Disclaimer: standard

Author Note: One more chapter to go after this. Thankfully, my progress on The Ring's Keeper is actually going rather well. It's a bit on the slow side, but it's picking up. You'll find out more about that in the next update though. Sorry, this chapter is a bit angst-y. And dramatic. Ah well, what do you expect after a death? Happiness? Enjoy!

Jay: *evil laugh* Actually, it was quite hard for me to kill Calen. I didn't want to, but somehow, even when he first appeared in the story, I knew he was going to have to die. *sighs* I'm glad you like Thalion, however. And you know, he's not in The Hobbit at all. I made him up! Thalion means "dauntless". And I really love the name so I had to include him in the battle. And although not much is said of him right now, he will have a major role in the second story.

Chapter Nine: No Will to Live

When Verity awoke again, she was stiff with a deep aching pain throbbing through her. All was dark, her vision had left her. Fearful, she cried out into the darkness. A light hand brushed her own. "Still." soothed a light soprano voice. "All is well. Your vision will return in a few days."

"Arwen?" she whimpered, recognizing the voice.

"Yes, I am here."

"Oh Arwen!" Verity felt tears poring from her sightless eyes. "Did it all happen or was it a terrible nightmare?"

"It was both."

"So Ca--Lord Calen is...dead?"

There was silence for a moment and then Arwen whispered, "Yes."

Waves of grief washed over Verity as she pulled herself into a sitting position only to double over, jamming her face into her knees, trying to hold back the pain. There were footsteps. "She isn't well. I'm afraid--" Arwen was speaking to another.

They must have conversed. She heard voices in the back of her mind, but did not comprehend them. She clutched at the sheets around her knees and rocked slowly, hot tears squeezing from her eyes. A hand lightly brushed across her forehead. "She is feverish." someone said.

The hand--or was it a different hand? Perhaps it was different, it felt a bit cooler.--caressed the side of her face. Her jaw relaxed some as the hand slid past her cheek to come behind to run to the base of her neck. Something held her. Light it seemed. Healing and warmth as she was held in a ray of sunlight and starlight and moonlight together. She was falling slowly and her head hit the pillow gently. She fell in a deep and restful sleep that was devoid of dreams.

Arwen was correct. Verity's sight did return. Three days later found her sitting up in bed and looking around the familiar room. She realized it was the same room she had stayed in during her previous visit. After her second awakening she requested a mirror. Upon looking into it, she found that her face was thin and slightly hollowed. The side of her face sported a nasty bruise and there were cuts dotting various parts of her face. Her hair was dirty and tangled. She knew she would have to cut it. When the maid came with her dinner, Verity asked for a bath to be drawn. The maid nodded and curtsied hurried off to accomplish the task. After dinner, Verity was helped from the tall bed by another maid. Her legs were stiff and refused to cooperate, but with help, she managed to make it to the bath. She dismissed the maids and slowly undressed and half fell/half climbed into the water. It was boiling hot to her tender skin and she winced for a moment before forcing herself to sink down into it. Soon the hot water massaged her beaten body better than hands and a heal salve could ever do. She sighed and closed her eyes slightly. An hour later she washed her hair and body as best she could. She hair was a hopeless mess. She prayed that they wouldn't have to cut off too much of it. She pulled herself out of the tub and wrapped the towel around her body, she then half walked, half crawled over to the fresh nightgown that the maids left. It seemed to take ages to actually slip it over her head, but she finally did and limped back to bed. The maids came in, sometime later to comb her hair. They echoed her fears. It would have to be cut. She left and returned quickly with a small knife. Verity closed her eyes and heard the knife whisk easily through her thick tresses. She felt lighter somehow and her heart dropped when her hair silently flopped against her shoulders. She cried bitterly for some time, cursing change and time and everything that came with them.

A week later, Verity's solitary healing was done. Restless, she donned a plain green dress, combed out her hair--that she was starting to get used to--and limped out into the hall. She found people in the great hall. "Verity! You should not yet be out!" Arwen scolded when she saw her.

"I was restless."

Arwen sighed. "Then sit please. I will not have you standing."

Verity grinned for what seemed like the first time in years. The smile felt odd to her lips. Terribly foreign. She didn't quite like it. "So, what's been happening during my little hiatus?"

Arwen frowned. "The burying of the dead has been the foremost in our minds."

"Ah." she said shortly.

She was silent for a moment before she asked the question that had been on her lips since she awoke. "How many did we lose?"

"Many." was Arwen's only answer.

"Names?"

Arwen sighed. "Out of those whose names you knew, Thorin, Filli, and Killi."

Verity told herself not to cry and was quite proud when she held the tears back. She was very thankful that Arwen did not mention Calen. "Lord Glorfindel," she asked suddenly, "how is he?"

Arwen frowned. "Saddened. Somehow. I do not know why. Other then that he fares well. He suffered no physical wounds."

"Where is he?"

"That I do not know. He comes and goes and never stays long either place."

Verity opened her mouth to ask another question, but a loud shout interrupted her. "Verity!"

Verity turned to see good, old Bilbo Baggins, hurrying as fast as a hobbit could hurry. She tackled her with a great hug. Verity found herself laughing aloud with the joy of seeing him. "Master Burglar! We meet again after the battle, warrior as well as adventurers!" she greeted him profoundly.

"We do indeed! And," he said a bit more softly, "we mourn the loss of those who cannot be with us anymore."

Verity nodded, tears trying to break free again. A suddenly urge overtook her. She grasped the ring in her pocket and tore it out. "This it yours. You're the burglar."

"I can't take it!"

"You can and you will." she favored him with a half smile and laid the ring in his hand. It immediately went into his pocket.

"Well, my dear friend, I guess you'll be going back to Bag End now?"

"Yes, yes. Back to my quiet hobbit hole for a nice normal day."

Quiet...normal..

"I'm feeling ill. I think I'll go back to my room for now." she muttered, pushing past Arwen and Bilbo.

Teleri was running up behind them, Arwen stopped the girl with a hand on her shoulder. Teleri bit her lip and said something to Arwen, but Verity couldn't hear. Nor did she really care anymore.

"And I fight for the tears that ain't coming,

Or the moment of truth in your lies.

When everything feels like the movies, yeah,

You bleed just to know you're alive."

She sighed. Odd how songs, even songs she hated, came up right when they were needed.

"When everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am."

Calen. With all that she loved him, she hadn't loved him. At least he'd died thinking she did. She grimaced. "I really am heartless."

She glanced at her hands. They were rough with worn blisters from her sword, cuts riddled the tanned skin. "Out damned spot." she whispered. "Hands that tried to hold in the blood that spilled. The least I could have done was told him. I lied. I...lied..."

She stood, hardly aware that she had been sitting.

"So what happens now? So what happens now?

Where am I going to? Where am I going to?

Call in three months time and I'll be fine, I know.

Well, maybe not fine, but I'll survive anyhow.

I won't recall names and places of each sad occasion,

But that's no consolation here and now."

Her ever present pack hanging over her shoulder, she wandered into the stables. Bane hit her hip with every step, reminding her. An ever present reminder.

"But anywhere I wander, anywhere I roam

Till I'm in the arms of my darling again

My heart will find no home."

She wrapped her thin arms around herself and shivered for no real reason. "If I don't stop now, I'll be bursting out into Somewhere Out There."

She paused and gazed back at the Last Homely House. "But my 'family'." she spat at the word. "I don't want them! I don't need them. I have a family. Somewhere..." she resisted the urge to slap herself, the sound might be heard. "Can I get any more dramatic." she smiled a crazed sort of smile and half-sung, half-chanted, "Someday we'll meet again, my love. Someday whenever spring breaks through. You'll come to me out of the long ago, warm as the wind, soft as the ki--" she broke off. "Heck, I never did like that song." she smiled up at the house. "Don't come looking for me. Legends weren't made to be alive. I'm dead to the past. And maybe...if I'm still alive and you're in need of a seer, I might be there, out of the long ago. To witness a new legend and mourn for an old one."

Colors blended in her eyes. And she shut out the memories.

"Tell us of your travels again, Bilbo!" someone shouted to the old hobbit.

Bilbo smiled and fingered the ring in his pocket. "Well, it all began with the unexpected visitor, to my unexpected party."