A/N omigod. I'm so sorry I forgot to do this. I got reviews! I'm so
happy. Do you guys actually like this story? I'm gonna put it all up cuz
I finished it (!!!!!), but please review anyway!
Thanks to:
Copper Hayden-Greenleaf – you're one of the few people who reviewed. I
never thought about her channeling Frodo, but I guess its because Frodo's a
really responsible person, cuz he's got the end of the world on a chain
around his neck, and Jané's really responsible as well cuz she's the future
queen of a rather large country that's had a bad history. It was
accidental, though, the thought had never occurred to me.
It was night, nearly a week later, when I raced across the plain of Rohan, heading for the lights of Meduseld. It seemed too late, even as I took the stairs two at a time, flashing the golden horse-ring at the guard as I ran past him, cloaked completely in black. The shadow of Sauron hung heavy over the Golden Hall. I ran into one of the sleeping rooms, shutting the door behind me. A palantír rolled across the floor towards me, its surface black and cloudy. I swept off my cloak and dumped it on the crystal in one swift movement. Gandalf was leaning over Pippin, and Legolas leant over Aragorn.
Aragorn.
I ran forward, falling to my knees beside him. I called his name, but he ignored me. Then I touched the Evenstar at his throat, and drew on my memories of Arwen. Then I touched Aragorn's cheek.
"Aragorn." I called. Legolas jerked, his blue eyes staring at me suspiciously. The woman who sat beside him was no longer Jané, but a curious mix of Arwen and Jané, with Arwen's voice, and Arwen's eyes, but Jané's face and hair. I could feel Aragorn returning to me, and I called again. His eyes flew open, and his hand went to my cheek. I dropped the illusion.
"Jané! I could have sworn..." Aragorn trailed off. I smiled gently at him, and held one of his hands in my own. "How is she? Did she leave?" I glanced at Legolas, who watched me like a hawk. Aragorn gave a sigh, and then Gandalf stood.
"Welcome, Jané. I wish I could ask what brought you here, but I think I already know." I nodded, and moved from Aragorn's side to Pippin's. I passed my hand over his forehead, and a peace came to his horrified eyes.
"Hush, Peregrin." I murmured, as he went to speak. He fell silent. Gandalf stood busily, then disappeared out the door.
*&*
A few minutes later, we all stood in the great hall. Pippin looked suitably ashamed with himself, and I stood behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder. He glanced up at me, and I smiled reassuringly. I tuned out of most of the talk regarding Rohan and Gondor, knowing that whatever happened, I was to go to Gondor.
"I will go with you." Aragorn and I said together, when Gandalf spoke of going to Gondor.
"No!" Legolas and Aragorn protested together. I smiled, and touched Legolas' cheek.
"I have to, my love." I murmured. Then I turned to Aragorn.
""I have seen many frightening things in my life, but none so terrifying as my brother and my love conspiring together." I murmured. Aragorn grinned, remembering when he had said that same thing almost sixty years ago. Legolas chuckled. I kissed them both on the cheek, then as I went to go, Aragorn grabbed my hand and scrutinized the Mirkwood ring on my finger. He glanced at me, then at Legolas, then back at me again.
"Why does no one tell me anything?" he asked with a pout.
"Because its none of your business. I'll see you soon." I turned and headed for the stables. When Enya saw me, she shook her head and snorted. I patted her neck.
"When we get to Gondor, lovely, then you can rest for longer than ten minutes. I promise." I said softly. She whinnied, and I grinned.
We galloped out of the stable, Enya keeping pace with Shadowfax much to Gandalf's astonishment. When I looked back I could just see my brother's figure at the battlement, and then I turned my focus ahead.
*&*
It was three days hard ride without rest to Gondor, and by the time we got there, even I was saddle-sore and weary. Gandalf and I galloped right up to the citadel, where we hurried to the main building.
Gandalf gave Pippin a lecture about not saying anything, and I patted his shoulder and smiled. Then we went in.
Unlike Théodan, who had aged rather gracefully for a man in his seventies, Denethor looked awful. He was hunched over something in his lap, and it was only once I got closer that I realised that it was the completely sundered horn of Gondor. I knew Boromir had died – I had seen it in the obsidian mirror at Rivendell, but this only solidified my knowledge, and a pang of grief pulled at my heart. I had raised Boromir as a son, and we had parted on harsh terms.
"Lady Jané." Denethor said, lifting his head to look at me out of a ravaged face. "You acted as mother to my children. How can you accompany such as those that engineered the death of my son?"
"He is not your only son." I said sternly. "Where is Faramir?"
Then Pippin came forward, out of my grasp, and knelt, explaining how Boromir had died. A sudden image appeared in my head of Boromir shouting and cutting down Uruk-Hai, even as arrows buried themselves in him. A touch on my arm brought me out of it, and Gandalf shook his head. Then he knocked Pippin about the knees with his staff.
"Get up." He ordered. Then we left the citadel, and while I was assigned my old rooms, I ensured Gandalf and Pippin had rooms next to mine. It seemed I still had authority here, no matter what Denethor might think.
That night, we stood on the balcony in the rooms Gandalf and Pippin shared. Pippin was looking at his new uniform pondering what the job description actually was. I rested my elbows on the balcony-ledge, and felt the sun pendant hanging at my throat being pulled towards Mordor. I clasped it in my hand and the force stopped.
Pippin asked about Frodo and Sam, and Gandalf told him what we had all known, (apart from Pip, it seemed) at the start: that it was a fool's errand, with a fool's hope. Pippin was quite disturbed by this unwelcome information.
Suddenly, a spiraling pillar of green witch-light rose out of Mordor and into the sky. Its eerie green light added to the red glow from Mount Doom.
Gandalf sent Pippin to bed.
*&*
The next day, I was leaning against the White Tree, staring towards Mordor and Osgiliath, when I saw riders from Osgiliath fleeing towards Minas Tirith.
"Gandalf!" I shouted. He ran out of the citadel, Pippin on his heels. He saw what I had seen and together we ran for the stables, and then galloped down and out of the city.
We sped straight towards the fleeing soldiers, and as we did so I began to weave song magic, though I doubted it would work, as it was difficult to keep my voice steady as we rode. But then I saw the winged monsters hesitate, and then Gandalf used his staff to send a blinding beam of light at the creatures, and they fled. Gandalf and I turned in great circles on our horses, headed back to the city, leading the contingent of soldiers into Minas Tirith.
Soon the lower courtyard was swarming with horses and Gandalf and I sat side by side, watching them. Faramir rode up to us.
"They've taken Osgiliath, an the river crossing." He said breathlessly. His gaze rested on Pippin, and a startled look, matched with regret, passed over his face.
"You have seen a halfling before." Gandalf noted.
"Yes. Two passed through Osgiliath recently."
"When?" I demanded. He looked at me for the first time and amazement crossed his face.
"Jané!"
"When did they pass through Osgiliath?" Gandalf pressed impatiently.
"Not two days ago." Faramir answered, still looking at me.
"Good. Which way did they go?"
"They said they planned to travel past Minas Morgul." Faramir said uncertainly, his gaze resting once again on Gandalf.
"Minas Morgul?" Gandalf repeated, frowning. "Indeed." Then he nudged Shadowfax, who galloped back up the hill.
"My lady, how came you..." Faramir began.
"There will be time for that later, Faramir." I said, reaching out and touching his shoulder. "Care for your men. I will go and see if I can encourage the kitchens to prepare something for you and your men."
"We deserted." Faramir said glumly. I nudged Enya with my knee.
"It's called a tactical retreat, Faramir dearest." I said, "And you'd be dead without it."
"At least father might care if I was." Faramir said. I reigned Enya in, so the horses stood side by side and I faced Faramir.
"Don't ever say that!" I hissed angrily. "He is not the only one who cares for you!"
"You would love a bow-legged chicken." Faramir retorted.
"And you are neither bow-legged, nor chicken-like, and I love you all the more for it. Take care, Faramir." I said, and cantered up the hill.
As Enya climbed the hill I looked up, and saw a small shape clambering up the side of the beacon tower. It seemed, then, that Denethor had refused to light the beacon himself.
I walked into the great hall, and saw Denethor pacing. He looked up as I walked in.
"That storm-crow wants to light the beacon!" He snarled.
"It would be to your aid." I said neutrally, unwilling to get myself in an argument.
"Pah!" He spat, and I frowned. "Why should Rohan come to our aid, and bring with it the false king, this Lord Aragorn?"
"Has it never occurred to you that perhaps Lord Aragorn is the true king?" I asked carefully.
"And you're what? The Queen of Mordor?" Denethor gave a derisive bark of laughter. I smiled to myself at his accuracy.
"Rohan will come to your aid, my lord." I said. "And you will need their help."
"I need no-one's help!" Denethor snapped.
"Your duty is to the city and the people who dwell here!" I said sternly. "Do not let your pride come between you and salvation." I warned. Denethor opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by cried of 'The beacon!'
"No!" Denethor cried, rushing to the window. I joined him, and I saw the next beacon, far along the mountains, spring to light.
"This is your doing!" He accused me.
"I had no part in it." I said levelly, standing my ground.
"Begone!" He ordered. "And send for Faramir, and Pippin."
*&*
I met both in the halls on my way back to my room. Pip was dressed in the uniform of a Gondorian guard, and Faramir stood next to him.
"Lord Denethor would see you both." I said softly. Faramir's face fell, and I drew him into a hug, then kissed his forehead. "Have courage, Faramir." I said. "Not everyone wishes-"
"That I was Boromir?" Faramir finished harshly. "I think you and Boromir are the only ones!"
"Finduilas-"
"Died before I had a chance to remember any mother but you." Faramir said. "Excuse me." He brushed past me, and Pippin followed, surprise etched on our face at our exchange. I sighed and continued to my rooms, where I had a long awaited bath and sleep.
*&*
I awoke only just in time to see Faramir off, as he rode on a fool's journey to take back Osgiliath.
I was too late to go down and say goodbye in person, and instead hurried out to the point of the High Court and starting singing, loud and clear, Faramir's favourite song from when he and Boromir were little, and life was a lot less cruel.
I could not truly make anyone out, as far down as they were, but I fancied I saw Faramir turn and salute me, before he left the city. I started to run back towards the citadel, but slowed before I had barely gotten two steps, deciding that as pretty as this dress was, it was simply not designed for running. It was pale gold, almost pastel yellow, silk, with a very tight bodice that emphasised my cleavage more than was strictly necessary. It had a long floor length skirt in the same pale gold silk, although it was fairly tight, and didn't allow for running, or even for big steps.
The whole thing was sleeveless, making it necessary for me to wear a flared- sleeved sky blue long cardigan, which fastened up the front with delicate gold chain. The sun pendant, as always, hung at my throat. My hair was piled high on my head, to keep it out of my face.
Denethor sat in his chair eating, and Pippin stood beside him singing. Just as I went in the door, I glanced over my shoulder at Osgiliath and saw the great shadow of horsemen attacking. Then the door shut behind me.
I stood in the shadows of the hall, watching as Denethor ate with appalling manners, as usual. I had done my best to school both his sons out of that, and for the most part I believed I had succeeded.
Pippin's song ended, and I saw him bow his head and blink away tears.
"My lord Denethor." I said, coming forward. Pippin started, but relaxed when he saw me.
"What?" Denethor asked moodily.
"You have sent your remaining son on a fool's errand." I said bluntly.
Denethor rose. "How dare you question me?" He roared. I stood my ground.
"He is as like to my own son!" I shot back. "Why do you do this?"
"I wish it was he who had gone to Rivendell, that Boromir would now still live." I stalked up to him, livid with fury.
"How dare you say that?" I cried. "How dare you-" Denethor swung out at me, and caught me on the cheekbone, narrowly missing my eye with his great ring. I was thrown to the floor and I slid a few feet on the marble stone before I stopped. I rose to my feet.
"Very well." I said, and left.
*&*
Hours later, I stared in horror at the great armies spewing from Mordor and filling Pelennor Fields, the plain that surrounded Minas Tirith. I had known the army of Mordor would be great, but this was unexpected. And terrifying. My hand went to the ring on my finger.
"Stay safe, my love." I sent the thought out across Middle Earth, then went to the citadel.
Denethor was doing his level best to ignore the presence of the armies on his doorstep. His trust that Minas Tirith would hold went beyond blind faith until it became deadly idiocy. He would hear none of my protests, however, telling me to return to my chambers, since as I was a mere woman, I would know nothing of warfare.
I didn't tell him that this woman was older than he was and had a good deal more experience when it came to warfare than he did, but I was sorely tempted. Pippin, who stood at his lord's side, looked terrified. Anger burned in my heart that Denethor would keep him, almost as a toy, his little mini-guard. Then cries brought us running out of the citadel, the others in front of me, since the dress stopped me from running. I made a note to change and soon as possible.
All thought of changing left my mind when I saw the body on the stretcher beneath the White Tree. "Faramir!" I screamed, running and kneeling at his side. He was flushed with fever, and the arrow still protruded from the chink in his armour. But I knew better than to pull it out.
Denethor stood at the edge of the High Court, lamenting the loss of his son. I went to him and grabbed his arm.
"My lord, Faramir yet lives!" I cried, trying to get through to him. Denethor threw me off, and I landed, yet again, sprawled on the ground. When I stood I saw Gandalf hitting Denethor with his staff, and got great satisfaction from it. That was the second time he had hit me. I knew already that one of my eyes was swollen and bruised, and I was going to hit back if he tried it again.
"Are you alright- what happened?" Gandalf demanded. I rolled my eyes.
"He got me." I said, nodding my head in Denethor's direction.
"He struck you?" Gandalf exclaimed.
"Twice. Just now, and earlier."
"He got you with his ring." Gandalf observed. I shrugged. Gandalf nodded, then started snapping instructions. Then he disappeared to the battlements.
*&*
The battle began, and soon the sounds of screams and crashes filled the air. I was organising medicines in the Halls of Healing, (bemoaning the lack of athelas), when Alina, Faramir's old nurse, ran in.
"Lady Jané! Denethor's gone mad! He's to burn Faramir and himself in the crypt!" I shoved what I was holding at a nearby woman and ran. Failing that, I hiked up my skirts. The women all gasped. I'm not sure what offended them most, the fact that I was immodestly showing my legs, or the fact that I wore boots, rather than lady-like slippers.
I reached the crypt, and heard yelling from inside. I pushed past the guards, heedless of their attempts to stop me, and ran in. It was dark, but by the central table, Denethor was ordering wood to piled around the base if the stone platform. He stood atop the table, and poured clear oil over his head.
"What are you doing?" I shouted, running forward.
"Hold her!" Denethor ordered, and the guards grabbed me, ripping the blue cardigan I wore. I struggled, tearing my skirt, and wrecking my hair. Not that I cared particularly at that point. Then the doors crashed open. The guards let go of me in their surprise, but before I reached the table Denethor grabbed the torch from one of the guards.
"Stop!" I screamed, but he took no notice, his gaze fixed on Shadowfax, Gandalf and Pippin, who galloped up the aisle. I flung myself to one side to prevent myself being trampled, and Denethor dropped the torch. The oil caught fire immediately, and soon the sound of roaring flames echoed in the chamber. The Denethor saw something, and looked relieved. The sound of the flames filled my ears, and blocked any noise. Then Pippin flung himself from Shadowfax and landed on the table. He grabbed Faramir, and rolled, falling off the table and rolling away from the flames. I hurried to his side, wiping the oil from his face using the sleeve of my cardigan. He looked up at me.
"You're falling out of that dress." He observed. I rolled my eyes and pulled up the bodice. Then Faramir looked up at his father. He was dazed, as was expected, but he still recognised him. Denethor gave a sudden shriek, and I looked up to see Denethor flee the crypt, a burning figure in the dark room.
*&*
I took Faramir to the Halls of Healing, and left him there. I went to the High Court to see if I could tell how it was faring, and saw that it was both better and worse. Better, as the Rohirrim had arrived, worse, in that I could see the pirate boats floating up the river.
I ducked as one of the winged monsters flew over my head, and it missed me by a fraction, its claws snatching at my blue cardigan and ripping a sleeve totally off. My clothes were not faring well, today. I already had Faramir's blood on the skirt, from when I had gotten the arrow out of him, and there was soot, and oil, and mud, and general mess all over my outfit. I'm sure, although I hadn't seen a mirror to check, that by now I looked like a whore who had fallen in a gutter. This wasn't exactly the most modest of dresses, and it had been ripped quite a few times in inconvenient places. Nothing too bad on my torso, but the incredibly low bodice meant that that wasn't necessary. And pale yellow just wasn't the right colour for a battle.
I started singing once I realised how the Nazgûl and their flying mounts decimated our armies. They faltered, and screamed their protest at the magic. Then all of a sudden the beasts flew out of control, fighting their masters, and refusing to follow orders. The I went to the sick rooms, ready to get my hands dirty trying to help the unwell..
*&*
I was dismayed to see Éowyn and Merry in the sick rooms, but relieved to find it was not any other of my friends. I had word that Théodan had died on the field, but forced myself to grieve for my friend later. I made myself show a business like air, and soon myself and my companions worked quickly and efficiently, tending to the wounds of the unwell.
After about three hours, I hurried to the throne room. I wanted to talk with Gandalf about Éowyn and Merry, who were in comas, allegedly from killing the Witch King.
Gandalf caught my attention immediately as I walked into the room.
"Gandalf!" I called. He turned to face me. His eyebrows raised at my appearance. My hair had come completely out now, and tumbled down my back and over my shoulders. My left eye was swollen, and my cheekbone had a cut from Denethor's ring. I had disposed of my cardigan completely, leaving me bare armed and bare shouldered. The bodice was inching its way down again, but I had given up trying to pull it up. Both skirt and bodice were soiled with blood, soot, mud and other things that I didn't know and weren't interested in. the skirt was ripped to my knee on one side, and my hands and arms were scraped and grazed.
"Can you believe this? This dress will have to be burnt!" I complained. Gandalf chuckled. "Anyway. We're running out of bandages, and beds. Éowyn and Merry are in comas, allegedly from killing the Witch King. Faramir's sleeping. And would you believe this place has no athelas?" I ranted. "When Aragorn is king I am going to have regular inspections to make sure he always has some. And if he doesn't, I am going to...oh." My words faded as I suddenly realised the company. Standing behind Gandalf was Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli. "And I now feel really stupid." I finished. Legolas and Gimli chuckled, and Aragorn cracked a tired smile.
"Hello Jané." Aragorn said. He looked me up and down. "Why exactly do you look like a bed-tumbled trollop?" he asked. I looked down at myself, and pulled up the bodice.
"I'd hate to discover what kind of bed-tumbled trollops you know, that are covered in blood and gore!" I shot back. "This dress was originally quite nice. Very pretty. Now it's just a mess."
"You can say that again." Gimli said, from where he was sat in Denethor's chair, smoking.
"What happened?" Legolas asked concernedly, coming forward. He touched my cheek lightly, and I flinched.
"Ow. Hands off, love, it hurts."
"Who dared..." Legolas began. "I'll kill him!"
"No, you wont." I corrected. "Because he's already dead. Don't worry about it, I'm not. How is everyone? And how did you finish the battle that quick?" that really confused me.
"Ghost army." Gimli said proudly. I raised an eyebrow at Aragorn.
"The men of the hills who betrayed Isildur years ago." He said, I nodded in understanding.
"Ah. Them. Lovely people."
"Deadly." Legolas added. I turned to him.
"My love, you are a deadly person. But you are also a lovely person." I kissed him lightly, then turned to the others.
"I have to get back. Someone find me some athelas." And then I returned to the Halls of Healing.
Next I heard, they had all ridden out to the gates of Mordor, and they hadn't even told me! I amused the others in the Halls of Healing with my ranting and complaining, I'm sure. I wasn't too amused, that was for sure.
I procured the athelas out of somewhere, and it was dried and definitely years old. I really wouldn't have been surprised if it had been from Finduilas' time. But it was still potent, which was what was important.
A loud crash brought me running to the window. A quick glance told me it hadn't come from the city itself, meaning that it must have come from Osgiliath or from Mordor, where my friends were. I cursed them aloud for leaving me here without a word, and shocked the ladies in the Halls of Healing into quiet. Which had its advantages, I suppose.
"That was rude, Jané." Faramir said, opening his eyes and rolling over. I ran to his side, smiling with relief.
"If it woke you up, I'll forgive myself. How do you feel?"
"Shocked that my appearance-sensitive aunt is still wearing the same trollop-like gown she was when I was brought in. only now it looks a lot worse." Faramir smiled. I hiked up the bodice.
"Yes, well. There wasn't an awful lot of time to change. What with you getting dragged in, and then the whole bloody battle, and your father and all the rest of it." I shrugged. Faramir rose onto one elbow.
"My father...he?"
"Realised how much he loved you." I said with a small smile, brushing a lock of hair out of Faramir's eyes. "A little late, though, I think."
"Where is he?" I frowned. How in all hells was I meant to answer that? Faramir nodded, and collapsed back onto the bed. "I understand. To be perfectly honest, I didn't think he would last much longer. The palantír always took so much out of him." I could have fallen over from shock had I not already been kneeling on the floor. "Didn't you know?" Faramir asked innocently. I swallowed all the things I wanted to say and shook my head.
"No. no, I didn't." Faramir stretched out a hand to touch my cheek and I flinched away.
"What happened? Who struck you?" Faramir asked concernedly.
"Your father." I said dryly. "He still doesn't like it when I argue with him, and I never seem to get the hint to stop."
"You never have." Faramir rebuked me. I shrugged.
There were a few moments of silent, while I sorted through my thoughts and rejoiced at Faramir's recovery. Then his tentative voice broke into my thoughts.
"Am I steward now, then?" he asked softly. I looked down at him and smiled.
"You are, little love." I said, using the nickname I had used for him when he was a child. He went red.
"I told you a million times to stop it." He complained. I laughed.
"And I told you the day I stop would be the day I joined your mother." I shot back. Faramir cracked a smile. "You are steward, Faramir, although you will be steward to the king, not to yourself, as your father was."
"So the king is among us." Faramir said with wonder. "I always hoped...but never thought it would happen."
"No. The sheer chance of it, doubled with the fact you were second for the thrown." I reasoned. Faramir relaxed onto the bed, and I passed a hand over his forehead. "Sleep Faramir. You're not healed yet." He slept, and I rose. It was definitely time for me to have a bath and sleep.
*&*
I slept for near on three hours, then had one of the servants draw up a bath. After soaking off all the horrible grime and gunk from the last two and a half days, I twisted my wet hair up, and was in the process of getting the back of my red taffeta dress laced up by the servant when Aragorn walked in. I barely heard him, my attention focused elsewhere. He took the place of the servant and was lacing me up before I knew he was even in the room. It was only when he pulled a bit hard that I noticed.
"Hey!" I complained. "I still need to breathe."
"I thought that was what the open back was for." Aragorn said. I started the turn but he held me tightly by the waist. "Stop moving so I can finish this."
He had a point. The dress had a low back, and left my spine bare to my lower back. It had a wide skirt (thank goodness!) and a tight bodice. The bodice had a low back, and off-shoulder sleeves that were tight to my elbow and then flared out. It was dark red, the colour of the old dark-red roses. When Aragorn finished tying the back, I turned and hugged him tight, reluctant to let him go. I again noticed just how much taller than me he was, as I only just reached past his shoulder. He kissed my forehead and stepped back, scrutinising me.
"You look well. The swelling's gone down." He noted, nodding at my eye.
"I pressed athelas on it while working." I said with a shrug. "I'm alright, apart from the eye, which is going down. You look awful." Aragorn sank into a chair by the window, stretching his legs before him and leaning his head back on the chair.
"I'm very tired. We just...somehow, escaped getting massacred by orcs, and now all I want to do is sleep."
"You should." I said, unpinning my hair so my wet black hair fell down my back. I started brushing it, and there was a knock on the door. I saw Aragorn sink farther into his chair, so I went to answer it myself.
"Legolas!" I smiled a greeting.
"Jané. Is your errant brother here?" Legolas, too, looked tired.
"He's asleep. What is it?" I asked.
"I'm not." Aragorn walked up behind me. He quickly twisted my hair up and pinned it, almost absently, like he wasn't thinking about it. "Have they arrived yet?"
"Just now. Legolas answered. "They're both unconscious though." I grabbed Legolas' arm.
"Frodo! He's here?" I demanded. Legolas smiled down at me.
"Frodo and Sam both. They did it, and not a second too late."
"Well, what are we standing here for?" I asked, gathering my skirts and running down the corridors to the Halls of Healing.
Frodo and Sam lay in separate rooms. Sam looked like he was only suffering from exhaustion, both mental and physical, and malnutrition. Lembas only takes you so far, which I found out when I travelled to Mordor myself.
Frodo, however, was suffering from much worse than malnutrition and exhaustion. He had carried a burden of the soul, and his fight against the darkness of the ring showed appearance, etched onto his features like carvings in stone.
I sat alone in his room, gently washing the grime of Mordor away. Tears were running unhindered down my face, but I ignored them, all my attention focused on Frodo. On the bedside table sat the ring I had given him at the start of the quest, which seemed so long ago, that I had received from Galadriel. He started in his deep sleep, and I touched his cheek in comfort, and he turned his face into my hand, and I smiled slightly through my tears.
I looked again at his right hand, where Gollum had bitten his finger off, the finger that had held the ring at the end, and claimed it for his own. I knew this had happened, but I spoke of it to no one. I had neither seen it, nor dreamed it, but it was soul-knowledge, information that you know to the depths of your soul, without question.
"Jané. Are you alright?" I turned my head to see Legolas at the door, and in an instant he was at my side, wiping my tears away. "My love. My poor love." He murmured, pulling my from Frodo's side into an enveloping hug. I clung to him and sobbed. My hands clutched at his jerkin, and I buried my face in his chest, the sun pendant I had given him for a wedding gift pressing into my forehead, he never took it off. I had no idea why I cried – I only knew I was ecstatic to have everyone back and well, and if they were not well, they were healing. But still my tears fell. Legolas guided me from the room, and soon my tears dried.
"I'm sorry." I said, wiping my tears away. "I don't know why I'm crying. I'm happy really." I smiled weakly through my tears.
"You've had a hard time of it, love. Gandalf said you practically ran the city when Denethor fell."
"Then Gandalf lies." I said with a grin. "I did no such thing. But I shan't correct him. Not when it's such a nice thing to say." If Legolas was surprised by my mood swing, he didn't say anything.
"It's time for dinner, that's why I came to fetch you." He said, taking my arm. I leaned my head on his shoulder as we walked down the corridor.
"Has Aragorn slept any?" I asked. Legolas snorted.
"No. that would be like asking if snow fell in high summer. There isn't a chance." I smiled.
"Well then." I said softly. "Then I'll be needing to stop by my room for a moment."
It was night, nearly a week later, when I raced across the plain of Rohan, heading for the lights of Meduseld. It seemed too late, even as I took the stairs two at a time, flashing the golden horse-ring at the guard as I ran past him, cloaked completely in black. The shadow of Sauron hung heavy over the Golden Hall. I ran into one of the sleeping rooms, shutting the door behind me. A palantír rolled across the floor towards me, its surface black and cloudy. I swept off my cloak and dumped it on the crystal in one swift movement. Gandalf was leaning over Pippin, and Legolas leant over Aragorn.
Aragorn.
I ran forward, falling to my knees beside him. I called his name, but he ignored me. Then I touched the Evenstar at his throat, and drew on my memories of Arwen. Then I touched Aragorn's cheek.
"Aragorn." I called. Legolas jerked, his blue eyes staring at me suspiciously. The woman who sat beside him was no longer Jané, but a curious mix of Arwen and Jané, with Arwen's voice, and Arwen's eyes, but Jané's face and hair. I could feel Aragorn returning to me, and I called again. His eyes flew open, and his hand went to my cheek. I dropped the illusion.
"Jané! I could have sworn..." Aragorn trailed off. I smiled gently at him, and held one of his hands in my own. "How is she? Did she leave?" I glanced at Legolas, who watched me like a hawk. Aragorn gave a sigh, and then Gandalf stood.
"Welcome, Jané. I wish I could ask what brought you here, but I think I already know." I nodded, and moved from Aragorn's side to Pippin's. I passed my hand over his forehead, and a peace came to his horrified eyes.
"Hush, Peregrin." I murmured, as he went to speak. He fell silent. Gandalf stood busily, then disappeared out the door.
*&*
A few minutes later, we all stood in the great hall. Pippin looked suitably ashamed with himself, and I stood behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder. He glanced up at me, and I smiled reassuringly. I tuned out of most of the talk regarding Rohan and Gondor, knowing that whatever happened, I was to go to Gondor.
"I will go with you." Aragorn and I said together, when Gandalf spoke of going to Gondor.
"No!" Legolas and Aragorn protested together. I smiled, and touched Legolas' cheek.
"I have to, my love." I murmured. Then I turned to Aragorn.
""I have seen many frightening things in my life, but none so terrifying as my brother and my love conspiring together." I murmured. Aragorn grinned, remembering when he had said that same thing almost sixty years ago. Legolas chuckled. I kissed them both on the cheek, then as I went to go, Aragorn grabbed my hand and scrutinized the Mirkwood ring on my finger. He glanced at me, then at Legolas, then back at me again.
"Why does no one tell me anything?" he asked with a pout.
"Because its none of your business. I'll see you soon." I turned and headed for the stables. When Enya saw me, she shook her head and snorted. I patted her neck.
"When we get to Gondor, lovely, then you can rest for longer than ten minutes. I promise." I said softly. She whinnied, and I grinned.
We galloped out of the stable, Enya keeping pace with Shadowfax much to Gandalf's astonishment. When I looked back I could just see my brother's figure at the battlement, and then I turned my focus ahead.
*&*
It was three days hard ride without rest to Gondor, and by the time we got there, even I was saddle-sore and weary. Gandalf and I galloped right up to the citadel, where we hurried to the main building.
Gandalf gave Pippin a lecture about not saying anything, and I patted his shoulder and smiled. Then we went in.
Unlike Théodan, who had aged rather gracefully for a man in his seventies, Denethor looked awful. He was hunched over something in his lap, and it was only once I got closer that I realised that it was the completely sundered horn of Gondor. I knew Boromir had died – I had seen it in the obsidian mirror at Rivendell, but this only solidified my knowledge, and a pang of grief pulled at my heart. I had raised Boromir as a son, and we had parted on harsh terms.
"Lady Jané." Denethor said, lifting his head to look at me out of a ravaged face. "You acted as mother to my children. How can you accompany such as those that engineered the death of my son?"
"He is not your only son." I said sternly. "Where is Faramir?"
Then Pippin came forward, out of my grasp, and knelt, explaining how Boromir had died. A sudden image appeared in my head of Boromir shouting and cutting down Uruk-Hai, even as arrows buried themselves in him. A touch on my arm brought me out of it, and Gandalf shook his head. Then he knocked Pippin about the knees with his staff.
"Get up." He ordered. Then we left the citadel, and while I was assigned my old rooms, I ensured Gandalf and Pippin had rooms next to mine. It seemed I still had authority here, no matter what Denethor might think.
That night, we stood on the balcony in the rooms Gandalf and Pippin shared. Pippin was looking at his new uniform pondering what the job description actually was. I rested my elbows on the balcony-ledge, and felt the sun pendant hanging at my throat being pulled towards Mordor. I clasped it in my hand and the force stopped.
Pippin asked about Frodo and Sam, and Gandalf told him what we had all known, (apart from Pip, it seemed) at the start: that it was a fool's errand, with a fool's hope. Pippin was quite disturbed by this unwelcome information.
Suddenly, a spiraling pillar of green witch-light rose out of Mordor and into the sky. Its eerie green light added to the red glow from Mount Doom.
Gandalf sent Pippin to bed.
*&*
The next day, I was leaning against the White Tree, staring towards Mordor and Osgiliath, when I saw riders from Osgiliath fleeing towards Minas Tirith.
"Gandalf!" I shouted. He ran out of the citadel, Pippin on his heels. He saw what I had seen and together we ran for the stables, and then galloped down and out of the city.
We sped straight towards the fleeing soldiers, and as we did so I began to weave song magic, though I doubted it would work, as it was difficult to keep my voice steady as we rode. But then I saw the winged monsters hesitate, and then Gandalf used his staff to send a blinding beam of light at the creatures, and they fled. Gandalf and I turned in great circles on our horses, headed back to the city, leading the contingent of soldiers into Minas Tirith.
Soon the lower courtyard was swarming with horses and Gandalf and I sat side by side, watching them. Faramir rode up to us.
"They've taken Osgiliath, an the river crossing." He said breathlessly. His gaze rested on Pippin, and a startled look, matched with regret, passed over his face.
"You have seen a halfling before." Gandalf noted.
"Yes. Two passed through Osgiliath recently."
"When?" I demanded. He looked at me for the first time and amazement crossed his face.
"Jané!"
"When did they pass through Osgiliath?" Gandalf pressed impatiently.
"Not two days ago." Faramir answered, still looking at me.
"Good. Which way did they go?"
"They said they planned to travel past Minas Morgul." Faramir said uncertainly, his gaze resting once again on Gandalf.
"Minas Morgul?" Gandalf repeated, frowning. "Indeed." Then he nudged Shadowfax, who galloped back up the hill.
"My lady, how came you..." Faramir began.
"There will be time for that later, Faramir." I said, reaching out and touching his shoulder. "Care for your men. I will go and see if I can encourage the kitchens to prepare something for you and your men."
"We deserted." Faramir said glumly. I nudged Enya with my knee.
"It's called a tactical retreat, Faramir dearest." I said, "And you'd be dead without it."
"At least father might care if I was." Faramir said. I reigned Enya in, so the horses stood side by side and I faced Faramir.
"Don't ever say that!" I hissed angrily. "He is not the only one who cares for you!"
"You would love a bow-legged chicken." Faramir retorted.
"And you are neither bow-legged, nor chicken-like, and I love you all the more for it. Take care, Faramir." I said, and cantered up the hill.
As Enya climbed the hill I looked up, and saw a small shape clambering up the side of the beacon tower. It seemed, then, that Denethor had refused to light the beacon himself.
I walked into the great hall, and saw Denethor pacing. He looked up as I walked in.
"That storm-crow wants to light the beacon!" He snarled.
"It would be to your aid." I said neutrally, unwilling to get myself in an argument.
"Pah!" He spat, and I frowned. "Why should Rohan come to our aid, and bring with it the false king, this Lord Aragorn?"
"Has it never occurred to you that perhaps Lord Aragorn is the true king?" I asked carefully.
"And you're what? The Queen of Mordor?" Denethor gave a derisive bark of laughter. I smiled to myself at his accuracy.
"Rohan will come to your aid, my lord." I said. "And you will need their help."
"I need no-one's help!" Denethor snapped.
"Your duty is to the city and the people who dwell here!" I said sternly. "Do not let your pride come between you and salvation." I warned. Denethor opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by cried of 'The beacon!'
"No!" Denethor cried, rushing to the window. I joined him, and I saw the next beacon, far along the mountains, spring to light.
"This is your doing!" He accused me.
"I had no part in it." I said levelly, standing my ground.
"Begone!" He ordered. "And send for Faramir, and Pippin."
*&*
I met both in the halls on my way back to my room. Pip was dressed in the uniform of a Gondorian guard, and Faramir stood next to him.
"Lord Denethor would see you both." I said softly. Faramir's face fell, and I drew him into a hug, then kissed his forehead. "Have courage, Faramir." I said. "Not everyone wishes-"
"That I was Boromir?" Faramir finished harshly. "I think you and Boromir are the only ones!"
"Finduilas-"
"Died before I had a chance to remember any mother but you." Faramir said. "Excuse me." He brushed past me, and Pippin followed, surprise etched on our face at our exchange. I sighed and continued to my rooms, where I had a long awaited bath and sleep.
*&*
I awoke only just in time to see Faramir off, as he rode on a fool's journey to take back Osgiliath.
I was too late to go down and say goodbye in person, and instead hurried out to the point of the High Court and starting singing, loud and clear, Faramir's favourite song from when he and Boromir were little, and life was a lot less cruel.
I could not truly make anyone out, as far down as they were, but I fancied I saw Faramir turn and salute me, before he left the city. I started to run back towards the citadel, but slowed before I had barely gotten two steps, deciding that as pretty as this dress was, it was simply not designed for running. It was pale gold, almost pastel yellow, silk, with a very tight bodice that emphasised my cleavage more than was strictly necessary. It had a long floor length skirt in the same pale gold silk, although it was fairly tight, and didn't allow for running, or even for big steps.
The whole thing was sleeveless, making it necessary for me to wear a flared- sleeved sky blue long cardigan, which fastened up the front with delicate gold chain. The sun pendant, as always, hung at my throat. My hair was piled high on my head, to keep it out of my face.
Denethor sat in his chair eating, and Pippin stood beside him singing. Just as I went in the door, I glanced over my shoulder at Osgiliath and saw the great shadow of horsemen attacking. Then the door shut behind me.
I stood in the shadows of the hall, watching as Denethor ate with appalling manners, as usual. I had done my best to school both his sons out of that, and for the most part I believed I had succeeded.
Pippin's song ended, and I saw him bow his head and blink away tears.
"My lord Denethor." I said, coming forward. Pippin started, but relaxed when he saw me.
"What?" Denethor asked moodily.
"You have sent your remaining son on a fool's errand." I said bluntly.
Denethor rose. "How dare you question me?" He roared. I stood my ground.
"He is as like to my own son!" I shot back. "Why do you do this?"
"I wish it was he who had gone to Rivendell, that Boromir would now still live." I stalked up to him, livid with fury.
"How dare you say that?" I cried. "How dare you-" Denethor swung out at me, and caught me on the cheekbone, narrowly missing my eye with his great ring. I was thrown to the floor and I slid a few feet on the marble stone before I stopped. I rose to my feet.
"Very well." I said, and left.
*&*
Hours later, I stared in horror at the great armies spewing from Mordor and filling Pelennor Fields, the plain that surrounded Minas Tirith. I had known the army of Mordor would be great, but this was unexpected. And terrifying. My hand went to the ring on my finger.
"Stay safe, my love." I sent the thought out across Middle Earth, then went to the citadel.
Denethor was doing his level best to ignore the presence of the armies on his doorstep. His trust that Minas Tirith would hold went beyond blind faith until it became deadly idiocy. He would hear none of my protests, however, telling me to return to my chambers, since as I was a mere woman, I would know nothing of warfare.
I didn't tell him that this woman was older than he was and had a good deal more experience when it came to warfare than he did, but I was sorely tempted. Pippin, who stood at his lord's side, looked terrified. Anger burned in my heart that Denethor would keep him, almost as a toy, his little mini-guard. Then cries brought us running out of the citadel, the others in front of me, since the dress stopped me from running. I made a note to change and soon as possible.
All thought of changing left my mind when I saw the body on the stretcher beneath the White Tree. "Faramir!" I screamed, running and kneeling at his side. He was flushed with fever, and the arrow still protruded from the chink in his armour. But I knew better than to pull it out.
Denethor stood at the edge of the High Court, lamenting the loss of his son. I went to him and grabbed his arm.
"My lord, Faramir yet lives!" I cried, trying to get through to him. Denethor threw me off, and I landed, yet again, sprawled on the ground. When I stood I saw Gandalf hitting Denethor with his staff, and got great satisfaction from it. That was the second time he had hit me. I knew already that one of my eyes was swollen and bruised, and I was going to hit back if he tried it again.
"Are you alright- what happened?" Gandalf demanded. I rolled my eyes.
"He got me." I said, nodding my head in Denethor's direction.
"He struck you?" Gandalf exclaimed.
"Twice. Just now, and earlier."
"He got you with his ring." Gandalf observed. I shrugged. Gandalf nodded, then started snapping instructions. Then he disappeared to the battlements.
*&*
The battle began, and soon the sounds of screams and crashes filled the air. I was organising medicines in the Halls of Healing, (bemoaning the lack of athelas), when Alina, Faramir's old nurse, ran in.
"Lady Jané! Denethor's gone mad! He's to burn Faramir and himself in the crypt!" I shoved what I was holding at a nearby woman and ran. Failing that, I hiked up my skirts. The women all gasped. I'm not sure what offended them most, the fact that I was immodestly showing my legs, or the fact that I wore boots, rather than lady-like slippers.
I reached the crypt, and heard yelling from inside. I pushed past the guards, heedless of their attempts to stop me, and ran in. It was dark, but by the central table, Denethor was ordering wood to piled around the base if the stone platform. He stood atop the table, and poured clear oil over his head.
"What are you doing?" I shouted, running forward.
"Hold her!" Denethor ordered, and the guards grabbed me, ripping the blue cardigan I wore. I struggled, tearing my skirt, and wrecking my hair. Not that I cared particularly at that point. Then the doors crashed open. The guards let go of me in their surprise, but before I reached the table Denethor grabbed the torch from one of the guards.
"Stop!" I screamed, but he took no notice, his gaze fixed on Shadowfax, Gandalf and Pippin, who galloped up the aisle. I flung myself to one side to prevent myself being trampled, and Denethor dropped the torch. The oil caught fire immediately, and soon the sound of roaring flames echoed in the chamber. The Denethor saw something, and looked relieved. The sound of the flames filled my ears, and blocked any noise. Then Pippin flung himself from Shadowfax and landed on the table. He grabbed Faramir, and rolled, falling off the table and rolling away from the flames. I hurried to his side, wiping the oil from his face using the sleeve of my cardigan. He looked up at me.
"You're falling out of that dress." He observed. I rolled my eyes and pulled up the bodice. Then Faramir looked up at his father. He was dazed, as was expected, but he still recognised him. Denethor gave a sudden shriek, and I looked up to see Denethor flee the crypt, a burning figure in the dark room.
*&*
I took Faramir to the Halls of Healing, and left him there. I went to the High Court to see if I could tell how it was faring, and saw that it was both better and worse. Better, as the Rohirrim had arrived, worse, in that I could see the pirate boats floating up the river.
I ducked as one of the winged monsters flew over my head, and it missed me by a fraction, its claws snatching at my blue cardigan and ripping a sleeve totally off. My clothes were not faring well, today. I already had Faramir's blood on the skirt, from when I had gotten the arrow out of him, and there was soot, and oil, and mud, and general mess all over my outfit. I'm sure, although I hadn't seen a mirror to check, that by now I looked like a whore who had fallen in a gutter. This wasn't exactly the most modest of dresses, and it had been ripped quite a few times in inconvenient places. Nothing too bad on my torso, but the incredibly low bodice meant that that wasn't necessary. And pale yellow just wasn't the right colour for a battle.
I started singing once I realised how the Nazgûl and their flying mounts decimated our armies. They faltered, and screamed their protest at the magic. Then all of a sudden the beasts flew out of control, fighting their masters, and refusing to follow orders. The I went to the sick rooms, ready to get my hands dirty trying to help the unwell..
*&*
I was dismayed to see Éowyn and Merry in the sick rooms, but relieved to find it was not any other of my friends. I had word that Théodan had died on the field, but forced myself to grieve for my friend later. I made myself show a business like air, and soon myself and my companions worked quickly and efficiently, tending to the wounds of the unwell.
After about three hours, I hurried to the throne room. I wanted to talk with Gandalf about Éowyn and Merry, who were in comas, allegedly from killing the Witch King.
Gandalf caught my attention immediately as I walked into the room.
"Gandalf!" I called. He turned to face me. His eyebrows raised at my appearance. My hair had come completely out now, and tumbled down my back and over my shoulders. My left eye was swollen, and my cheekbone had a cut from Denethor's ring. I had disposed of my cardigan completely, leaving me bare armed and bare shouldered. The bodice was inching its way down again, but I had given up trying to pull it up. Both skirt and bodice were soiled with blood, soot, mud and other things that I didn't know and weren't interested in. the skirt was ripped to my knee on one side, and my hands and arms were scraped and grazed.
"Can you believe this? This dress will have to be burnt!" I complained. Gandalf chuckled. "Anyway. We're running out of bandages, and beds. Éowyn and Merry are in comas, allegedly from killing the Witch King. Faramir's sleeping. And would you believe this place has no athelas?" I ranted. "When Aragorn is king I am going to have regular inspections to make sure he always has some. And if he doesn't, I am going to...oh." My words faded as I suddenly realised the company. Standing behind Gandalf was Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli. "And I now feel really stupid." I finished. Legolas and Gimli chuckled, and Aragorn cracked a tired smile.
"Hello Jané." Aragorn said. He looked me up and down. "Why exactly do you look like a bed-tumbled trollop?" he asked. I looked down at myself, and pulled up the bodice.
"I'd hate to discover what kind of bed-tumbled trollops you know, that are covered in blood and gore!" I shot back. "This dress was originally quite nice. Very pretty. Now it's just a mess."
"You can say that again." Gimli said, from where he was sat in Denethor's chair, smoking.
"What happened?" Legolas asked concernedly, coming forward. He touched my cheek lightly, and I flinched.
"Ow. Hands off, love, it hurts."
"Who dared..." Legolas began. "I'll kill him!"
"No, you wont." I corrected. "Because he's already dead. Don't worry about it, I'm not. How is everyone? And how did you finish the battle that quick?" that really confused me.
"Ghost army." Gimli said proudly. I raised an eyebrow at Aragorn.
"The men of the hills who betrayed Isildur years ago." He said, I nodded in understanding.
"Ah. Them. Lovely people."
"Deadly." Legolas added. I turned to him.
"My love, you are a deadly person. But you are also a lovely person." I kissed him lightly, then turned to the others.
"I have to get back. Someone find me some athelas." And then I returned to the Halls of Healing.
Next I heard, they had all ridden out to the gates of Mordor, and they hadn't even told me! I amused the others in the Halls of Healing with my ranting and complaining, I'm sure. I wasn't too amused, that was for sure.
I procured the athelas out of somewhere, and it was dried and definitely years old. I really wouldn't have been surprised if it had been from Finduilas' time. But it was still potent, which was what was important.
A loud crash brought me running to the window. A quick glance told me it hadn't come from the city itself, meaning that it must have come from Osgiliath or from Mordor, where my friends were. I cursed them aloud for leaving me here without a word, and shocked the ladies in the Halls of Healing into quiet. Which had its advantages, I suppose.
"That was rude, Jané." Faramir said, opening his eyes and rolling over. I ran to his side, smiling with relief.
"If it woke you up, I'll forgive myself. How do you feel?"
"Shocked that my appearance-sensitive aunt is still wearing the same trollop-like gown she was when I was brought in. only now it looks a lot worse." Faramir smiled. I hiked up the bodice.
"Yes, well. There wasn't an awful lot of time to change. What with you getting dragged in, and then the whole bloody battle, and your father and all the rest of it." I shrugged. Faramir rose onto one elbow.
"My father...he?"
"Realised how much he loved you." I said with a small smile, brushing a lock of hair out of Faramir's eyes. "A little late, though, I think."
"Where is he?" I frowned. How in all hells was I meant to answer that? Faramir nodded, and collapsed back onto the bed. "I understand. To be perfectly honest, I didn't think he would last much longer. The palantír always took so much out of him." I could have fallen over from shock had I not already been kneeling on the floor. "Didn't you know?" Faramir asked innocently. I swallowed all the things I wanted to say and shook my head.
"No. no, I didn't." Faramir stretched out a hand to touch my cheek and I flinched away.
"What happened? Who struck you?" Faramir asked concernedly.
"Your father." I said dryly. "He still doesn't like it when I argue with him, and I never seem to get the hint to stop."
"You never have." Faramir rebuked me. I shrugged.
There were a few moments of silent, while I sorted through my thoughts and rejoiced at Faramir's recovery. Then his tentative voice broke into my thoughts.
"Am I steward now, then?" he asked softly. I looked down at him and smiled.
"You are, little love." I said, using the nickname I had used for him when he was a child. He went red.
"I told you a million times to stop it." He complained. I laughed.
"And I told you the day I stop would be the day I joined your mother." I shot back. Faramir cracked a smile. "You are steward, Faramir, although you will be steward to the king, not to yourself, as your father was."
"So the king is among us." Faramir said with wonder. "I always hoped...but never thought it would happen."
"No. The sheer chance of it, doubled with the fact you were second for the thrown." I reasoned. Faramir relaxed onto the bed, and I passed a hand over his forehead. "Sleep Faramir. You're not healed yet." He slept, and I rose. It was definitely time for me to have a bath and sleep.
*&*
I slept for near on three hours, then had one of the servants draw up a bath. After soaking off all the horrible grime and gunk from the last two and a half days, I twisted my wet hair up, and was in the process of getting the back of my red taffeta dress laced up by the servant when Aragorn walked in. I barely heard him, my attention focused elsewhere. He took the place of the servant and was lacing me up before I knew he was even in the room. It was only when he pulled a bit hard that I noticed.
"Hey!" I complained. "I still need to breathe."
"I thought that was what the open back was for." Aragorn said. I started the turn but he held me tightly by the waist. "Stop moving so I can finish this."
He had a point. The dress had a low back, and left my spine bare to my lower back. It had a wide skirt (thank goodness!) and a tight bodice. The bodice had a low back, and off-shoulder sleeves that were tight to my elbow and then flared out. It was dark red, the colour of the old dark-red roses. When Aragorn finished tying the back, I turned and hugged him tight, reluctant to let him go. I again noticed just how much taller than me he was, as I only just reached past his shoulder. He kissed my forehead and stepped back, scrutinising me.
"You look well. The swelling's gone down." He noted, nodding at my eye.
"I pressed athelas on it while working." I said with a shrug. "I'm alright, apart from the eye, which is going down. You look awful." Aragorn sank into a chair by the window, stretching his legs before him and leaning his head back on the chair.
"I'm very tired. We just...somehow, escaped getting massacred by orcs, and now all I want to do is sleep."
"You should." I said, unpinning my hair so my wet black hair fell down my back. I started brushing it, and there was a knock on the door. I saw Aragorn sink farther into his chair, so I went to answer it myself.
"Legolas!" I smiled a greeting.
"Jané. Is your errant brother here?" Legolas, too, looked tired.
"He's asleep. What is it?" I asked.
"I'm not." Aragorn walked up behind me. He quickly twisted my hair up and pinned it, almost absently, like he wasn't thinking about it. "Have they arrived yet?"
"Just now. Legolas answered. "They're both unconscious though." I grabbed Legolas' arm.
"Frodo! He's here?" I demanded. Legolas smiled down at me.
"Frodo and Sam both. They did it, and not a second too late."
"Well, what are we standing here for?" I asked, gathering my skirts and running down the corridors to the Halls of Healing.
Frodo and Sam lay in separate rooms. Sam looked like he was only suffering from exhaustion, both mental and physical, and malnutrition. Lembas only takes you so far, which I found out when I travelled to Mordor myself.
Frodo, however, was suffering from much worse than malnutrition and exhaustion. He had carried a burden of the soul, and his fight against the darkness of the ring showed appearance, etched onto his features like carvings in stone.
I sat alone in his room, gently washing the grime of Mordor away. Tears were running unhindered down my face, but I ignored them, all my attention focused on Frodo. On the bedside table sat the ring I had given him at the start of the quest, which seemed so long ago, that I had received from Galadriel. He started in his deep sleep, and I touched his cheek in comfort, and he turned his face into my hand, and I smiled slightly through my tears.
I looked again at his right hand, where Gollum had bitten his finger off, the finger that had held the ring at the end, and claimed it for his own. I knew this had happened, but I spoke of it to no one. I had neither seen it, nor dreamed it, but it was soul-knowledge, information that you know to the depths of your soul, without question.
"Jané. Are you alright?" I turned my head to see Legolas at the door, and in an instant he was at my side, wiping my tears away. "My love. My poor love." He murmured, pulling my from Frodo's side into an enveloping hug. I clung to him and sobbed. My hands clutched at his jerkin, and I buried my face in his chest, the sun pendant I had given him for a wedding gift pressing into my forehead, he never took it off. I had no idea why I cried – I only knew I was ecstatic to have everyone back and well, and if they were not well, they were healing. But still my tears fell. Legolas guided me from the room, and soon my tears dried.
"I'm sorry." I said, wiping my tears away. "I don't know why I'm crying. I'm happy really." I smiled weakly through my tears.
"You've had a hard time of it, love. Gandalf said you practically ran the city when Denethor fell."
"Then Gandalf lies." I said with a grin. "I did no such thing. But I shan't correct him. Not when it's such a nice thing to say." If Legolas was surprised by my mood swing, he didn't say anything.
"It's time for dinner, that's why I came to fetch you." He said, taking my arm. I leaned my head on his shoulder as we walked down the corridor.
"Has Aragorn slept any?" I asked. Legolas snorted.
"No. that would be like asking if snow fell in high summer. There isn't a chance." I smiled.
"Well then." I said softly. "Then I'll be needing to stop by my room for a moment."