Disclaimer:The Lord of the Rings and all its characters, races, and creatures, as well as our beloved Middle Earth, belongs to JRR Tolkien.

I awoke in the wee hours of the morning, still dressed in the same clothes I had collapsed in earlier in the evening. I unpinned my hair, letting it fall around my shoulders and brushed it vigorously. I did not have a tub in my room, so I took a bath every other day, in the tub in one of the private rooms in the wards. Yesterday morning, before going to work, I had availed myself of the tub, washing my hair as well as myself. So this morning, I just did a small tidy-up and dressed.

I dressed myself in my riding clothes, which consisted of leggings and a plain shirt, with a tunic on top of that. I had a feeling I would be shedding the tunic before too long in the day. The weather had warmed with the change of the season. I decided to go give tidings of my departure to whoever was on duty in the wards. Since it was practically the middle of the night, my dear, sweet Ioreth would be absent, thanks be.

I went into the Wards and walked down the aisle, searching for any sign of an aide. There were not many soldiers left in the wards recuperating from wounds of the war. Most of the patients were victims of mishaps or illness. The lamps were few, so the light was dim, allowing the men to sleep in relative darkness. No one was about, which was not unusual. When the wards were short on wounded or sick, and there was no one in serious condition, there was no point in an aid on the night watch staying awake. I surmised the one on duty would be in the closest empty room, asleep. Should a patient call out, or make noise in some manner, the open door would allow any sounds to alert the aid that their assistance was needed.

I took the time to check on the patients. There were only ten in the wards. I thanked Eru for keeping them safe and allowing them to live to see their lives completed, barring some other mishap. I did not go to them individually, I simply observed them from the main aisle as they slept. No one was overly restless, so I steadily moved down the aisle. I finally came to Darren. He had, as Elrond had predicted, started to rapidly improve after the Elven lord's visit. The infection was gone and now the wound was well into healing. I thanked Eru again, this time for frustrating Elven healers. It surprised me when Darren appeared to be observing me, as I was observing him.

"Mistress Maeren," Darren said quietly. "What are you doing about at this time of the night?"

Drawing myself up to look stern, I answered with my own question, "And what do you think you are doing awake, young man? You should be sleeping."

"How can I sleep, with you trudging up and down the aisles, waking me up?" he asked.

I smiled and sat on Darren's cot. "You got me, sir. I am defeated in this little war of words."

He smiled back at me. "You still did not answer my question," he said.

"I wanted to come and bid you goodbye, Darren," I replied. "I am going to study the healing arts with Lord Elrond. You remember him, do you not?"

"How could I forget an Elf lord?" he asked. "And the Queen's own father?"

"How indeed?" I answered. "I am going to miss you," I said sincerely. "With any luck, you will be gone from here next week. I know you are anxious to be at home."

"I surely am," he replied. "My wife comes to visit me every day, and everyone here is very nice, but there is still no place I would rather be than at home."

"My sentiments exactly." As I rose, I continued, "I am sorry I woke you. Go back to sleep, heal well, and have a wonderful life from now on."

Darren rose up on one elbow and said, "Mistress Maeren, could you lean down here for a minute, there is something I have been wanting to tell you that I would rather no one else hear, even if most of the others seem to be asleep."

I leaned down, and Darren gave me a sweet kiss on the cheek. "I want to thank you for all you have done for me. Do not think I am unaware that most healers would have done away with my leg, instead of trying to heal it. You took extra time—much extra time—to tend only to me. I will always be grateful to you. You know not how grateful."

I could feel my eyes mist up, but I told them to be still. No more crying unless I was under great duress. This almost counted, but not as duress. I was extremely touched by Darren's thanks. What he said was true. Most healers would have amputated Darren's limb. It was so badly hurt. As it was, he would have a limp for the rest of his life, but he would have his leg, and that was everything to a man who is a soldier of the guard in Minis Tirith.

"You are very sweet for saying that, Darren," I said. "Now, go back to sleep. I will always remember you, sir. Such a handsome rascal!" Darren was probably my same age, but he was pleased when I called him sir, or young man. And he had needed things to bolster his spirits during his long stay in the Houses of Healing.

He laughed quietly and lay back down. I gave him a slight wave as I walked back down the aisle the way I had come. I went into my office and got ink and paper, to leave a note. I was not going to wake up the aid on duty to do a lot of explaining.

In the letter, I simply told them where I was going. I decided to enhance the story Arwen had given me as my cover. It would not do for any of the aids to see the Elven lord out in the city, while I had supposedly gone to his home to study with him. I wrote that Lord Elrond would not be leaving Minas Tirith for a month or so. I and a friend—Gimli, I was referring to, though I did not name him—were going first to Rohan, for my friend had always wanted to visit the Glittering Caves. I also told them that the invitation to study—and my acceptance—was sudden, thus the short notice I was giving them. I wrote them a final goodbye. I would probably go back to Edoras after my schooling. I thanked them all for their service. This was hard to do, especially to Ioreth, for while they had come around somewhat in the end, they had made my life miserable for the most part. I told them that I hoped for them a grand future. Short and sweet and to the point. And done. I rose and took the note to the desk in the wards, knowing someone would see it first thing.

As I turned from placing the note on the desk, I heard a noise. Someone had opened the outer door to the Houses of Healing, coming in from the street. That had not ever bothered me before, but prior to now I had never received any death threats. It was still at least an hour before dawn. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise. The footfalls of the visitor were soft, but he was not trying to be stealthy. He would have taken greater care keeping his arrival quiet in that case. I stood transfixed, unable to move. I heard the footsteps continue past the door to the wards, and surmised that whoever it was, must be going to visit me. Thanks be, I am in here.

Remaining still, I listened and heard soft knocking upon my door down the hallway. A few moments later, the footsteps grew louder again, as the visitor came back up the hall and approached the door to the ward. I looked around for a weapon of some sort, but saw only a basin that lay upon the desk next to the note I had just placed there. I grabbed the basin, not knowing exactly what good it would do me, but needing something in my hands just the same. At the very least, I could throw it at an attacker, should it come to that. I watched the doorknob turn.

The door opened and I lifted the basin in my hand, ready to smash it into the head of whomever was invading the ward. I drew a deep breath, about to let out a blood-curdling scream, if someone should threaten me. Slowly, a head appeared around the door. It was Aragorn. I let my breath go in an audible gasp of relief and lowered the basin slowly. He raised an eyebrow and smiled. He crooked his finger at me, quietly signaling me to follow him out into the hallway.

As soon as I had the door to the ward closed quietly behind me, he said, "I wanted not to disturb those that are ill, but I need to speak with you. Could we go into your office, perhaps?"

I nodded and he followed as I led us into my office and closed the door. I was shaking, but I knew not if it was from the scare I just had, or my close proximity to the father of my child.

We both sat in our usual chairs, he across the desk from me and I in my old creaky one. I set the basin I had unintentionally kept in my hand upon the desk, then took a few deep breaths, trying to settle my nerves.

"I am sorry if I frightened you, Maeren," he said. "I should have thought of Glosten and your concerns about his threat, but I did not. I apologize again."

"That is all right," I replied, finding my voice at last. "What have you come here for, Aragorn?" I asked, getting right to the heart of the matter.

He sat back and slid down, until his head was resting on the back of the chair. He was obviously not dressed for his day as King. He was clad plainly, not in his velvets and brocades. He looked more as he did when I first met him, only cleaner and better smelling. His long legs were stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. He rested his elbows on the arms of the chair and steepled his hands, clasping his fingers together.

Make yourself at home, my King, and take all the time you wish.

He finally began to speak. "I wanted to make sure all was right with you before you left," he said. "Since you seem loath to be in my company, especially with others present, I decided to seek you out now."

I nodded and then said, "There was no need, as you can see. I am perfectly fine and am ready to leave."

"Yes I can see that," he said. "I wanted to make sure you are prepared for the journey you are about to undertake. I have had Gimli and Legolas stow a few things on a packhorse that may ease your trip somewhat. I knew not how much experience you have in traveling in the wild."

"I have no experience in it," I replied. "The only journey I have ever taken was the one from Edoras to here, so I am quite inexperienced. However, I know Gimli quite well by now, and I know he will help me should I need assistance. I am unworried about any problems I may encounter."

"That is exactly what I feared," Aragorn said with a frown. Sitting up in his chair, he continued, "I fear you are complacent. There are many dangers out there, and while it is true that you have two of the finest warriors traveling with you, you still need to be on your guard. All members of a traveling party must keep vigilance. Even now that Sauron has been defeated, there are still Orcs and other menaces about the countryside. You must be cautious."

"I had planned to be, Aragorn," I said with obvious rancor. "Although I am not well-traveled, I am capable of sensing trouble. I admit I am not much for weapons, but I can use a dagger if need be."

"I am glad to hear you say that," he returned. "I feared you may only be schooled in the wielding of basins as a fighting technique." He smiled, pointing at the basin sitting on my desk and I smiled back at him. He then continued, "I have a gift for you." He leaned forward in his chair and reached toward the floor. He pulled a knife from his boot, and then pursed his lips, reaching back down again to retrieve the sheath the knife was supposed to be encased in. Placing the knife back into its leather sheath, he handed both to me.

I took the proffered weapon. It was warm from being next to his leg. I examined it, removing it partially from its case and then pushed it back in. "I have my own, you know," I said. "I really have no need of this."

"Nevertheless, I wish for you to have it," he replied. "As I said, it is a gift."

"All right," I said. I was wishing for this little audience with the King to be finished. "Was there anything else?"

He bent forward, putting his elbows on his knees. He was now in that parental pose that I loved so much. I am so sarcastic, am I not?

"I felt our parting in the Citadel last evening was a bit too abrupt for my liking," he said. "I wanted to give you that knife, and— " He paused, seeming to search for words. "I really know not why I am here. I just knew I had to come and see you before you left. Our relationship—or lack thereof—is strange, to say the least. I know not how I feel about you, Maeren." He paused for a few minutes; his eyes trained on my face, as if judging the effect his words may have on me. He finally began speaking again. "I hope not to tread on your feelings by saying this, but I do not wish to give you the impression that I am in love with you. There is a place in my heart in which I hold you dear. Perhaps it is only that you carry my child within you. I do not rightly know. But for whatever reason, I feel close to you. I care for you very much. I worry for you and for the child."

I was dazed. I needed not this 'confession' if it indeed was one. He was right when he said our relationship was strange. I felt the same. I did not love him, but I did have feelings for him. He was dear to me, also. But Arwen was becoming dear to me, and I had caused her enough hurt already. I had chosen, thus far, to push any feelings I may have harbored for Aragorn away. And that was where they were going to stay.

"Now it is I who know not what to say," I replied. "I hold you dear, as well. But as you have just told me, I am not in love with you. I think I will never be in love again. I loved my Dustin too well."

"I love Arwen in the same way," he said. "I will never love another as I love her, nor will I ever be unfaithful to her again. I wish I had not been before. It grieves me now." As Aragorn spoke, he had a look on his face that told me he spoke not only truly, but also with all his heart.

I did not know what else to say, and I wished not to engage in a staring contest with the King. I rose from my chair and went around my desk to stand beside him. He had risen when I had and we now stood facing one another. It seemed a staring contest was inevitable, no matter what I wished. He had an almost wistful look on his face. Even in the bedraggled and weary state he was in when I first met him, he did not look as old and tired as he did now. A part of me wished to give him comfort, for in my heart, I knew he was wishing his child was not traveling across the countryside. He was wishing that his child would not be born without him by its mother's side. He was wishing I was not the baby's mother and that Arwen was.

I know not how long we stood there, looking into each other's eyes, but he finally sighed and broke the trance. He gave me a half smile and bent and kissed my cheek.

"Please take care of yourself and the little bundle you carry," he said solemnly, letting his eyes flicker toward my belly.

"I will," I replied. "Have no fear, our little bundle is safe with me."

He dipped his head in farewell and left me standing there—little bundle and all.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

I stood there in shock for a few moments. I wanted to feel nothing for Aragorn. I wished, as he did, that none of this had ever taken place. Why had he not just stayed away from me this morning? Why?

I truly believed it was just as I claimed: I held Aragorn dear, for whatever reason, I knew not. We had shared ourselves with each other. We had been joined as one. We had created life. But it was not we. It was me, and it was him. There was no we.

I suppose on some level, I wish there was a we. That would certainly lessen the number of problems I now faced. I cannot imagine, however, being married to him. He irritates me in so many ways. His parental air when he speaks to me at times irks me greatly. Being around him makes me tense, like a shy, young maiden out with a man for the first time. Is it guilt over my betrayal of Arwen that makes me so tense? That has to be it. I know I am not in love with the man. I know it. Don't I?

Yes, I do know it. My Dustin was the only man for me. I knew it when I married him and I know it now. He did not talk down to me as Aragorn does. He did not doubt my capabilities when I said I could do something. And if I failed, he never shamed me about it. He was my rock and with him in my life, I felt invincible. I missed him deep within myself, in depths I dared not explore, for fear I may finally lose myself in them. I wished for him to be here now. I would not be in this mess if he was, and my Tristin would be here with me, where he belonged.

I finally remembered myself and what I was about this morning. I knew it was probably approaching sunrise. As I hurriedly exited my office, I glanced down the hall before I turned to walk to my room. There came an Elf, walking toward me. I did not know him, of this I was sure. He smiled as he approached me. He was adorable, if you can call a grown male such. He was very tall, like most Elves seemed to be, and blond as Legolas was. But while I had called him adorable, it was his smile that made him so. He was in no way feminine; that was apparent from the first. Where Legolas was pretty, this Elf was handsome—very.

"I was sent to see if you were ready, and if not, when you might be," he said. As an afterthought, he added, "I am Kellen, of Lothlorien—the Golden Wood. Someone was supposed to inform you of your time of departure last night, but sometimes confusion reigns and it was not done. You have my deepest apology." His voice was light and musical—merry, if I were to put a name to it. If only I could use merry to describe Legolas, then this journey before me may not seem so dreadful.

"No apology necessary," I said. "My name is Maeren of Rohan. It is my pleasure to meet you. All I must do is get my things and then I will be as ready as I am ever apt to be."

We walked the rest of the way down the hall to my room. I turned the silent doorknob and entered. My valise, my bedroll, and my cousin were in the middle of my small table. My cousin needs a name. What shall I call him? Jonas. Yes, I dub thee Jonas the Skull. I had interred Jonas in a pillowslip, tied in a knot to prevent his escape. The skull made quite an interesting article, all rounded and shrouded in a pillowslip. I will have fun with this, Arwen. I promise you, I will.

Kellen insisted on carrying all of my gear—even Jonas. Taking a last wistful look around, I checked to make sure I had all the things I planned to take with me. Satisfied, I followed Kellen down the hall and out the door of the Houses of Healing for the last time. I did not look back. That part of my life was now over and there was no use pining about it. I would be able to learn methods of healing I had never even dreamed of from Elrond in Rivendell. This would be an experience of a lifetime, in more ways than one.

Kellen steered me toward the Citadel, in the seventh circle of Minas Tirith. A crowd of men, women and Elves was gathered at the Place of the Fountain, beneath the White Tree of Gondor. Faramir was there, as well as Eowyn, and they both hugged me in farewell. Faramir whispered in my ear well wishes and a safe trip. I thanked him. I wanted to throw myself into his arms. I felt safe there, but knew it would not be proper.

Elrond was in attendance, as well as both of his sons, Elladan and Elrohir. I was reintroduced to them, but still could not keep them straight. When I asked which was Elladan, they each pointed to the other. This was going to be a fun trip, of that I was sure.

The King and Queen were also there, standing together, each holding the other's hand. Arwen came forward, hugging me.

"Do you remember all the lessons I taught you?" she asked, whispering directly into my ear. I could tell she was taking no chances of being overheard with the Elven ears present here this morning. I nodded. She asked if I had my cousin with me, and I answered by pointing to Jonas, who was settled safely against my valise on the ground at my feet. Arwen snickered into her hand, gave me one last hug, and then it was time for me to get atop my horse and be gone, with Gimli—and Legolas. Now to find the horse I was to ride.

I was startled when someone touched my arm. It was Eomer. I said nothing, I merely walked into his arms and he held me close. He put his arm around my shoulders and led me a short distance away from the crowd. It was then that I noticed that walking beside him was a horse he had being leading quietly by the reins.

"Dorulas left a bequest to you, Maeren," Eomer said, as he held the reins of the horse out to me. There were tears in his eyes, but I knew they would not be shed in public. He was a King and a very proud man as well.

Dorulas was a woman who was a good friend to Eomer. He had known her for many years and thought a great deal of her. Several months ago, I had treated her in the Houses of Healing. She had received news that caused her such grief, she had needed sedation. The man in her life, Lord Boromir, Denethor's son and Faramir's brother, had been slain. She told me in confidence that she had been wife to him in all things but name, and she loved him with all her heart. Faramir had brought her to the Wards after she had collapsed when he gave her the dreadful news. She had been in the Houses of Healing for almost four days.

Our second meeting took place after she was mortally wounded by a poisoned blade on the streets of Minas Tirith one morning. It was a slow acting poison, Blackroot Oil, and she lingered for a day before passing from life in her sleep. Evidently she thought me a friend, to give me such a gift as one of her mares. I felt like weeping myself. I had quickly grown attached to the independent woman who was Doralus, Daughter of Holdor.

I looked at the mare Dorulas had bequeathed to me. She was a beautiful deep black, her coat shining brightly with good health. She was saddled and ready for me to ride. I turned to Eomer and said, "Such a wonderful gift! Does she have a name?"

"If she does, I know it not," Eomer replied.

"Do you think Dorulas would mind were I to call her Dori?" I asked. "It seems almost an irreverent thing, to name a horse after a lady, but I would do it in tribute, not disdain."

Eomer smiled and chuckled. "I think she would be honored. She held her mares in more esteem than she did many people!"

Eomer put the reins in my hands. He looked at me solemnly and said, "Aragorn spoke to me of the reason you are leaving Gondor."

I gasped and closed my eyes, shame shooting through my heart. "I wish he could keep some things to himself," I said angrily. I was having trouble keeping my breathing even. I really did not want to weep.

Eomer pulled me to his chest once more, and it was all I could do to keep my tears at bay. Why did Aragorn insist in doing these things? Did he truly wish to hurt me?

Without releasing me, Eomer whispered into my ear, "I am glad that he told me, Maeren. I wish you would have trusted me enough to hear you and keep your secret."

"It wasn't that, Eomer— " I said.

"Hush now, healer. Your King is speaking to you," he said. I gave a little half laugh. He continued, "Why not come back to Edoras? We will think of something to tell people, even though it is no one's concern other than yours. I will help you. You know that I will."

I couldn't help the tears now. What a sweet man, was the King of Rohan. I gathered myself together and stood away from him a bit, looking down at my feet. Shame seemed to roll off of me in torrents and I could not look the King in the face. "Thank you, Eomer," I said, "but I cannot do that. I have never been good at telling falsehoods and I will not bring shame to my father."

Eomer placed his fingers under my chin and raised my face so he could look into my eyes. "You have made up your mind?" he asked. At my nod, he said, "You know you can always change it and come home with me to Edoras."

"Thank you, Eomer," I said sadly. "You know there is nowhere I would rather be than at home with my family, but I just cannot do it. It scares me to go so far away, to a foreign place, with people I know not. But I have done this thing and I must be responsible for it. This is the right thing to do, even if it is not what I wish."

Eomer gave me a small kiss on the forehead and turned me back toward the crowd still standing around the White Tree of Gondor. With his arm around my shoulders, he led me and my new mare back amidst the milling crowd. He held Dori's head while I mounted and then handed me the reins.

"May the Valar guard you and your precious cargo on your journey," Eomer said. He gave my leg a pat and walked away. I wanted so badly to follow him and go home where I truly belonged. But I must do what I had to do. As my father always told us, I had committed the sin, now I must mop up after myself.

It appeared that Legolas and Gimli would ride together on one horse. There was no saddle, but there were reins. Interesting. Legolas held the reins and Gimli sat behind him. Another mare was laden with provisions, as well as the bedrolls and baggage, what little there was of it. She was a tall, slender gray, and possessed a refined air, if such could describe a horse. Must be of Elvish breeding. The horse had no rein, nor any guide rope at all. A halter is all the tack that she wore. I wondered at this, but since there were Elves involved, I decided to keep my curiosity to myself. I would probably learn what I needed to know on this trip by keeping my ears open and my curiosity in check—and my mouth closed. That would be a challenge, to be sure.

It was nearing the time of our departure. We were all three upon our horses, and Legolas was conversing in Elvish with Elladan—or was it Elrohir? No matter, it was one of the twins. Legolas made what he thought was a covert glance in my direction, and laughed. I could feel my anger rising. Calm yourself. There are too many days between here and Rivendell to already be at odds with that blasted Elf! I gave a pat to Jonas. He would help me set that Elf straight.

I could not help but smile.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o

A/N: The woman, Dorulas, who bequeathed the horse to Maeren, could once be found in a great story entitled Misericorde, by Blue Iris. This story was about a spy working for Gondor, and her life from the beginning of her career to the end. It was a unique story, told from the perspective of a woman whose loyalty to her city and country knows no bounds. A very unique viewpoint, to say the least. But the author took it down, and unless it is now under a different name with a different author name, it is no longer on this site. Our loss, I assure you.