Chapter Three: Challenging Memories

An indescribably fresh scent entered my nostrils and I inhaled deeply, enjoying it. I sunk further into the feather mattress and I could feel the warm sun on my face—wait…

My eyes flew open and met a stained oak, cabin-like ceiling. I sat up quickly, despite my aching stomach, back, and my horrible headache. I looked around me furiously, fighting the darkness which was consuming most of my vision. I gripped the sheets to sheady myself at the feeling I was falling. Two hands gripped my shoulders and I tried to coax my to lay back down on the bed. I couldn't do it. Confusion ripples through my head and spread through my muscles. Somehow, and I'll never manage to figure out how, but I wrenched away from the hands and stumbled out of bed only to find my legs were bandaged thoroughly and I couldn't bend my right leg or left ankle to stabilize myself. I must have been a sight to see—stick-leggedly trying to walk backwards fast enough to catch my upper body while my arms were waving rapidly in search of something to grab. My attempts were to no avail and I started crashing backward, only to have someone catch me.

The room stopped spinning and I blinked a few times to clear my eyes. An old man sat on the bed and a woman stood at its foot. The man who caught me picked me up, cradling me in his arms. Instinctively, I thrashed about.

"Get—Let go of me!" I almost screamed. His arms tightened in order to prevent my escape. Having had enough, I found my left arm and drew back and it connected with his face. The punch could have probably broken his nose if it had been my right arm and I wasn't half starved.

"There will be none of that!" the old man yelled, suddenly on his feet, standing over me as I was put down. I was about to get up when I realized the old man had a shining white beard and hair. My eyes traveled down his white garb and staff. 'Mithrandir,' I thought to myself. He studied me closely and I looked away, not recognizing the woman who was straightening the sheet which had been draped over my legs. I looked at the man who had his hand over his face, massaging his nose and preventing me from seeing his face.

"Aragorn, are you alright?" Gandalf asked him.

I gasped as the man removed his hand from his face and smiled slightly. It was then I realized how tall he was—nearly a foot over Viggo. His dress and appearance was much the same as I had remembered from the movie and the book, but his face appeared both youthful and wise. It was hard to say looking at him how old he was, but I could definitely say that he was Aragorn, even without Gandalf addressing him.

'Crap, I just punched the next king," I thought to myself, scolding for acting before thinking.

Gandalf interrupted my thought by sitting on the bed and glancing at the woman to leave. I scooted a little further over on the bed, gaining some space between us. He appeared to notice, but said nothing.

"We will not harm you. You do not need to be afraid—"

"Who are you and where am I?" I demanded.

The old man appeared unpleased at my outburst, but looked to Aragorn who stood a few feet beyond the foot of the bed with his arms crossed over his chest.

"If introductions are necessary…" He gestured to Aragorn. "This is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and I am—"

"Mithrandir?" I chocked.

A soft smile covered his face. "I see you recognize me."

I paused. "Not really," I croaked. "What other man would be shining white and…in Minas Tirith with the future king?" He studied me further and traded a look with Aragorn. I became very interesting in the hem of the sheet and began pulling on it in attempt to rip the cloth, the pain in my legs and right arm becoming quite a nuisance. However, my strength seemed to have been drained from my previous injures and I was unable to harm the sheet.

I suddenly thought about what I was doing, about where I was and tried to push the pain to the back of my mind and come to the matter at hand. "This is some kind of joke, right? I mean, this isn't really…" I cut myself off, thought, I wasn't sure why I didn't finish my sentence. I wanted them to admit it was the show 'Scare Tactics' or something so I could be over and through with this pain. At the same time I wanted this to be Middle-earth and not the cruel, unloving world I lived in.

"Yes, and you are in the Houses of Healing," Aragorn answered.

"Houses of—how did I … I was…" I tried to think. Where had I been?

"A guard apparently caught you on the sixth level. He brought you to Denethor who was…busy at the moment and I instructed you be taken here because of your injuries."

I grunted, "That's an understatement."

"How did you receive such torment? Certainly not one event caused the variety of mars on your body," Aragorn asked, the healer in him appearing.

I was tempted to hold up my hand and count off the various accidents I had found myself in, but I humbly stated instead, "Accidents, pure accidents that should have never happened."

Both occupants in the room seemed unsatisfied with my answer.

"Were you responsible for the dead fell beast below the citadel?" Gandalf asked.

"Uh…" I swallowed. "Yes?"

The man and wizard traded looks again, but said nothing. "Where do you come from, lady? When you cam here you were clothed in strange garb."

I opened my mouth and shut it. Truth or fiction? Half-truth? "Um…I…" I started. I scolded myself for not being prepared for the question. "I come from…" my voice faded and I closed my eyes tightly, trying to think of a realm that wouldn't get me in trouble.

"Do you remember your name?"

The voice interrupted my thoughts and I opened my eyes. Another question I had no idea how to answer. "Jo—no…A—no!…Ry—" I shut my mouth, knowing I probably looked like a fool, not knowing my name or where I came from.

"What is the furthest thing you remember?" Aragorn asked, stepping toward the bed.

"Faramir. I was in Osgilith. The orcs were coming. I somehow recognized Faramir and knew we had to ride to safety…to Mina Tirith."

"Have you ever been in Gondor?"

"Not before today—or yesterday or whatever. Why all the questions? What's going on? Are you going to put me in prison again?"

Gandalf chuckled at my sudden paranoia and anxiety. "No. You will be cared for here. Though I must ask you this: how did you know me? of the Steward?"

"I…I…I don't know…I've heard of you…and him."

Gandalf nodded and sat looking at me before standing and going to the small window across the room. Aragorn followed.

"Memory loss," he murmured and Gandalf nodded in agreement. "But I've never heard of such a thing: remembering the recent, but not the past. And knowing of you and Denethor! Killing a fell beast! Who knows what she does and does not understand!"

"Patience. Time and healing may answer your question," the wizard answered before turning and exiting the room.

Memory loss? I was at loss for words. When they walked to the window I was sure they were going to say how likely it was I was hiding something. My unprepardness had actually aided me somehow.

I realized Aragorn was still in the room and watch him turn and meet my eyes.

"Are you in pain?"

"No," I lied, wondering what he would do if I said yes. It wasn't like he could pop me an aspirin.

"You are lucky you did not injure yourself further by getting out of bed so soon."

'Lucky?' I thought, thinking his word choice was ironic. I did not see myself as lucky at all.

"Is the war over?" I asked, fairly sure it was since he was here.

"The battle is, but Mordor has more in store for us. We will ride once more to battle in a few days' time." He took a few steps toward the door. "I will have food brought to you. Pleasure meeting you, my lady."

"And….I you."

He exited the room and I heard an excited voice outside the closed door.

"Gandalf said she was awake."

"Yes, she is."

May I see her?"

There was a pause and I strained to hear. Who would want to see me?

I was startled when the door opened and a small man peeked his head in. "Hello, miss. May I enter?"

"Uh…sure."

He came in, shutting the door. He was clad in war clothes: mail and a black vest with the tree on Gondor embroidered with silver. A sword hung from the belt on his hip.

He stood there for a minute, staring at me. "I wanted to see how you were. You weren't in good shape when the guard brought you up. Denethor was furious at seeing you again and told Gandalf you would betray us."

I raised my eyebrows, interested in his tail.

"Gandalf didn't know you, but he became very interested and sent me off to help you and Captain Faramir as the Steward…" he trailed off.

"Died?" I asked, trying to help him.

"Yes." He bowed his head in sadness, but I could tell he wasn't sure what to think of what happened to him.

"Is Faramir alright?"

He looked back up at me. "He is alive. He is just down the hall, healing from the arrow wounds he suffered."

I nodded, relieved.

"I'm Peregrin Took, but you can call me Pippin," he stated confirming my thoughts.

"Hi, nice to meet you."

He looked at me for a moment, waiting for me to introduce myself, but when I didn't answer he seemed not to mind. He pulled up a chair from beside the door and sat beside the bed.

"The men say you brought Faramir from Osgilith after the battle."

I smiled slightly at his excitement. "Yes, that is true."

"Were you in the battle? I do not remember meeting any women in the army. How were you uninjured when you arrived? How did you escape the orcs?"

"Well, I am sorry to say that I cannot answer all of your questions," I said, trying to stick with the memory loss story, "because I don't really remember myself. The first thing I remember is waking up in the Stone City by Faramir and somehow knowing who he was." I proceeded to summarize the chain of events that followed my arriving at Minas Tirith. When his questioning continued, I told him the rest of what had happened.

"…and as I was sitting there, something hit my head and the next thing I knew I was here," I concluded.

Pippin opened his mouth to say or ask something when someone knocked on the door. The woman appeared with a tray of food.

"Master Took, Mister Brandybuck wishes to see you," she said, placing the tray on the table beside me and quickly leaving.

Pippin stood. "It was a pleasure, my lady, but I am afraid I have to go, but I hope we will meet again."

I nodded and he quickly excited, leaving me alone.

The days passed in loneliness and thought. Gandalf returned daily to quiz my memory. Aragorn, I rarely saw, but he stopped in a few times to see if my wounds were healing well, and they were; slower than he had ever seen, but healing. I wished they had air casts and crutches so I wouldn't be bed ridden. It was just my luck, and I think they were relieved so they wouldn't have to worry about me. I was a prisoner to the bed.

I contemplated during that time about how I would get back. Did I even want to go back home? There wasn't much there that wouldn't suffice here. Sure, I would suffer without my music and especially since the place had no toilets or running water. I found it amusing and fun, but how long would it take to get old?

Finally, I got fed up with my room and bandaged my leg to a plank of wood—to stabilize it—and borrowed an old walking stick they had laying around. Gandalf and Aragorn left with the army to Mordor, or so I thought because Gandalf no longer stopped by and I thought I heard the men gathering and leaving through the front gate.

I stood and stretched my unused and cramped muscles. Most of my problems were my arm and broken leg, although the twisted ankle was a nuisance. I stood outside in the garden and overlooked the plains. It really was an amazing country and I couldn't imagine living there. The sun was setting, causing the sky to mix into pinks, oranges, and purples. I took pleasure on having nothing to stress over and breathed in the fresh (non-polluted) air that none could rival.

Footsteps came toward me from the path to the house. I tried to ignore them, thinking it was going to be Gandalf mysteriously appearing and scolding me or the kind lady ushering me in to eat.

"Miss?" the masculine voice startled me and I whirled around, recognizing it.

I stared at him, not knowing how to react. I raised my eyebrows slightly and tried to mask an innocent look. Yes, my lord?"

"You…you are from that dream…" he said slowly nearing me. "They told me a stranger here, but I didn't think…"

"It wasn't a dream."

"Then what?"

I took a deep breath, "I don't know. I went for a walk, you came, I woke up and you were dead, so I buried you…and fell in." I trailed off, studying the grass. "Then I was here."

He studied my face. "Who are you, my lady? What do you hide?"

"I do not know anymore. I remember my past life, contrary to what others believe, but I don't know who I am now." I turned away and took another deep breath. "I don't know why I'm here."

He stepped next to me and I didn't answer for the longest time and I believed he wasn't going to say anything, until he did, just loud enough for me to hear. "I wouldn't have come to you if I didn't need you. You must play a role here."

I turned and stared at him, wide-eyed. "You came to me. You chose to?!" I said a bit louder than I should have.

"No, no." He shook his head. "I had no part in it, but it may have been out of desperation, subconsciously, to avoid death."

"Your saying your subconscious took you to me so I could save you?"

"Possibly."

"Then why did you drag me with you?"

"I was told you brought me to safety, so the attempt was successful. "He turned to look at me and a small smile spread across his lips.

The thoughts of fanfiction flooded my mind. I pictured Faramir sweeping me off my feet and kissing me. "My breath-takingly beautiful warrior," I muttered with a sigh, stealing a glance at him.

"Excuse me?"

I immediately snapped out of my daydreaming. "What?"

"You said something."

'I said that out loud!' I panicked.

"Oh, I was just thinking how what you said made sense, but then why am I still here?"

"We may have to wait and see." His smile reappeared.

I smiled weakly, my stomach dropping in what almost seemed like dread.

A/N: Thank you and I hope you enjoyed. Thanks to everyone who reviewed!

Stardust-creations: Now you know. I'm glad you are enjoying this and thank you.

Dimonah Tralon: Thank you. I am glad you enjoy it.

xAKGIRLx: Thank you for your enthusiasm. I hope you liked this chapter as much, although it sadly didn't have as much action.

Sweet A.K: Thank you. I like the main character too. I wanted a woman who would be somewhat courageous in facing her trials, but also very normal. Yes, I know there aren't many good Faramir fics, which is one of the reasons I wanted to write one. I am sorry that it took longer than usual to post this, but I hope it was worth the wait.

ArienKaleniel: Here's Faramir. He had been injured and taken to his father and while the main character was facing all her problems, he was being burned by his father. Well, he's well now, so you don't have to worry!