Hello dear readers!
I have been absent in the past years (years already?!) but I had to focus on my study. I thank all of you who have added this story to their favorites and alerts. I have not forsaken or forgotten you. Right now I have finished my study and have plenty time to write and finally finish this story. I present to you this chapter after all these years, hoping you will (still) enjoy it.
In the next couple of weeks I'll write for you and try to edit the previous chapters on spelling and grammar.
Thank you for sticking with the story and Mÿne. I am grateful to you.
Tell me what you think in the comments and I hope to present the next chapter to you soon.
Love,
Hopjesvla
I do not own the Lord of the Rings or its characters and places. I only own Mÿne.
The first beacon was placed on top of the highest tower of Minas Tirith. Lighting it by just walking up the stairs was out of question. The beacon was guarded night and day by two or three soldiers. No, someone had to climb the tower from the shadow-side and sneak onto the pile of wood.
"Pippin is the only one suitable for that task. He's small and, when wearing his elven cloak, almost unnoticeable." Mÿne said as she poured herself and Gandalf a drink. She bit on the end of her pipe as she looked outside, towards the mountains of Gondor. As Beregond had explained, the chain would follow those mountaintops towards Edoras, starting with Ered Nimrais. From the corner of her eye she could see Gandalf nod.
"I had the same idea..." hem muttered as he stood up and began pacing around in the stone room Beregond had left them in. "You must watch if the chain will not be broken, as far as you can see."
Mÿne nodded.
"That way I can give Pippin some help or distract some soldiers when questions are asked." Gandalf paused. "We need to move quickly, as soon as Pippin is relieved of his duties."
This would be due midday, so Mÿne had time to wander around the city. She dressed casually and brought her small purse with her. Outside her chambers she saw Faramir looking at the small cabinets on the sides of the hallway.
"Lord Faramir!" Mÿne said surprised as she crossed paths with him. "What are you doing here?" As the only son left of lord Denethor, Faramir's chambers were in the Stewards building. He had no business here in the guest building.
"Please, I am no lord. Just Faramir will suffice." he said as he smiled sadly. "I was hoping I could talk to Mithrandir but it seems he is attending to some other matters."
"Just so." Mÿne said nodding. Gandalf had told her that he wanted to be alone until it was time to light the beacons. He had some business to take care of and Mÿne had learned that she'd better let him do so without interference. She was unsure what to say next. "Do you know where I can get some pipe weed in this city?" she asked as she showed him her little pouch of pipe-weed. It had gone empty after all the traveling she had done the past couple of days… or had it been weeks?
"Of course, on the third level is a little shop. Let me take you there!" he offered as his smile broadened.
"Oh, I can find it myself I think... If you have matters to discuss with Gandalf-"
"It can wait." he said as he gestured to the courtyard. "I am certain whatever Mithrandir is doing, it's very important... My matters are not. I will speak to him later."
So she went with Faramir to the third level. On their way he told her everything about the city and his life in it. How he grew up in it, how he often pranked the stable master and how he got caught one time when he was up to no good.
When they came to the shop he greeted the owner and introduced her to him.
"Milady, this is Darrion. He's the best pipeweed seller in town." Faramir said to her. Mÿne smiled a little as she admired Darrion's collection of wooden pipes across the shelves of the shop.
"I'm no lady, Faramir." She said, still smiling. "Just Mÿne is fine."
She traced her fingers over some small barrels with dried leaves and read the descriptions. Somewhat disappointed she turned towards the shop owner, Darrion.
"Some friends of mine told me about… what was it called… Southquarter weed? Of the Shire?" she asked as her eyes scanned the barrels behind Darrion, hoping to find the barrel.
"Ah yes," Darrion exclaimed right away. "It's called Southfarthing Leaves, from the Shire itself. Precious product but it doesn't sell that well here. I'm surprised you're asking for it." Darrion said as he walked to a room behind the shop to fetch a small barrel. "You don't strike me as a Shire-type." He said as he put the barrel down and for a moment his eyes rested on her face.
"As I said," Mÿne repeated, "I heard about it from friends."
"Ah yes, apologies." Darrion muttered as he opened the barrel. He grabbed a weighing device and gave her a quizzical look. "How much will it be?"
Outside the shop, Faramir gave her an amused look.
"Let me guess." He said, "Pippin told you about it, didn't he?"
Mÿne gave a slight chuckle as she tossed her refilled weed pouch up and down. "That he did."
Faramir gave a firm nod while they walked up the road towards the upper level. They decided to take a rest on a bench in the courtyard on the upper level. Mÿne opened her pouch of weed and took out some leaves. She took a quick sniff and decided that yes, Pippin was right, these were fine leaves. She stuffed her pipe as she gazed upon the mountains on their side and smiled softly. A silence grew over them.
"I don't want to be rude but… Pippin told my father he and you knew my brother, Boromir." Faramir suddenly said, breaking the comfortable silence. Mÿne sighed as she put her now filled pipe down.
"Yes..." She said, a little apprehensively. "Yes, we did."
Sudden images of Boromir crossed her mind. Not only how they had shared campfires, stories and laugher but also how she and Boromir had gazed upon each other while the Uruk bowmen was about to end them both. So much regret and sadness had lingered in Boromir's eyes. Mÿne felt her heart wince internally, like something was crushing it from the inside.
"Frodo told me he knew him…" Faramir started, again. "But he was as surprised as me to learn from his passing… Could you… Would you know how he… died?"
Mÿne tried to avert his gaze. The pain and sadness would be too much, she feared. She stayed silent, fiddling with the wooden pipe in her hands.
"I beg of you, Mÿne. I can see that you know more of this." Faramir said as he placed a hand on her shoulder.
She looked up to him, but instead of sadness she could only read only genuine concern and an anxious gaze in his eyes. She sighed, gripping her pipe tighter and chewing on her bottom lip.
"Boromir was a great and honorable man… He died by an Uruk bowman." She said as she tried to remain calm. She took a quick glance at Faramir, whose eyes seemed to ask for more information.
"We were at Amon Hen. Frodo and Boromir had wandered from the group. Afterwards it seemed that Boromir had tried to take the Ring from Frodo while they were alone. We didn't know. I was left at the encampment while the rest went searching for them. Suddenly I had heard his horn, it sounded all through the forest…" Mÿne halted, afraid for what came next. Not only were her dreams still haunted by Boromir and his death but she was talking to his younger brother… What if his opinion of his brother (and maybe her) changed? Mÿne sighed and take a quick glance at Faramir again. There were tears on the brim of his eyes, but it didn't seem like he wanted her to stop.
"Are you sure you want to hear this? How he passed, I mean?" Mÿne asked, just to be sure.
"Yes." Faramir said, nodding as he placed his hand on her shoulder again. "Please. This has been gnawing at me for weeks now. I need to know how he died, or else I can't put my worries and dreams to rest."
Mÿne gave him an understanding nod. "… I was there when he died… I had rushed into the forest, trying to find him… I knew that horn was bad news. I ran through the forest, trying to find him. In the end… It seemed I was too late already. Two arrows had already pierced him. And yet he still was trying to protect Pippin and Merry, our fourth Hobbit companion. I tried to hold off the Uruk from firing the third one. He threw me against a tree and fired the third one anyway. In the end Ar-… Strider had to save us…" Mÿne thought it was best not to mention Aragorn right away. Denethor had reacted awfully on him (or his name) and even Boromir had seemed dismissive at first. She wasn't sure how Faramir would react to Aragorn. "Strider and I were with him when he died…" Mÿne concluded, and she felt tears on the brim of her eyes. "It was… We send him from the waterfalls of Rauros with a boat from our fellowship, hoping he'd reach Gondor."
"He did." Faramir said, somewhat choked. "I found him in the river, on a scouting mission. His horn was cleft in two and he looked so pale…" he said as he averted his gaze towards the mountains in the distance. "But now I know he died as honorable as he was. It may seem silly but that was all I needed to hear." he said as he turned his gaze back to Mÿne, "Thank you, Mÿne. I understand that this is difficult for you too, for that I'm sorry. But this meant a lot to me."
Mÿne smiled softly. "I cannot imagine what it must've been like to find him like that... I understand your need to know how he passed." She said as she fiddled with her pipe again. "Wondering what happened to the ones we love is a terrible thing, especially when they have already entered the next world." In her mind an imaged formed of her parents. Was it just her or did she had difficulties remembering their faces? It had been so long and she had met so many people…
"Ah I see. You must've lost someone dear to you already, apologies." Faramir said, pulling her out of her thoughts.
"No matter." Mÿne said while her eyes gazed into the great distance before her. "It has been so long ago. I've gotten used to it."
She refused to talk about the subject after that. Faramir was eager to discover whom she had lost but Mÿne refused to answer. The subject made her anxious, especially since there was a battle coming and she wasn't sure if they'd survived it. It gave her a feeling of dread and despair, and even though Mÿne refused to give up on hope, she wondered if there was any left at all. They started to chat about the green forests of Middle Earth instead. Faramir was extremely fond of the forests in Ithiliën, one that Mÿne hadn't seen before.
"But not is all well." Faramir said as he sighed, "Not three days ago, we encountered some Mumakîls and easterlings."
"Don't they live in the far south?" Mÿne asked as she bit on the mouth piece of her pipe, thinking.
"Normally they do. But these are not normal times. They were on their way to Mordor…" Faramir said, "Mithrandir was right, Sauron is plotting something big and dark. Whatever it is, it will not be good."
Mÿne nodded in agreement. Gazing on the mountains before them she suddenly squinted her eyes. Was it just her imagination or did it… No, she was sure she wasn't imagining it.
"Is that-"she started as she lifted herself from the bench. She walked over to the edge of the courtyard to get a better view. A very small orange light was visible from it, hardly recognisable.
"Amon Dîn." Faramir breathed next to her, his eyes locked on the mountaintop. "The beacons are lit."
"Well done, Pippin." Mÿne grinned softly as she watched for the next beacon to light up. It didn't take long before she spotted an even smaller orange light, further away.
"Eilenach." Faramir said as he pointed to it, "The next beacon would be Nardol if all goes well. It lies just over the mountains but we can't see it from here. We must have hope now."
Mÿne felt her fists clench. Hope, she had decided, was still present.
"Meanwhile we cannot just sit and wait." She muttered as she glanced around them.
"No, we cannot. The people must be instructed, gates barred, enough stones for the catapults." Faramir said as he crossed his arms. Mÿne could see from his expression that a plan was taking shape in his mind. "We must find Mithrandir." He concluded and he jerked his head towards the tower with a burning haystack behind them. The first beacon. "Something tells me we could find him there."
"We might." Mÿne said as she grinned. She put away her pipe and followed Faramir over the courtyard towards the tower.
When they arrived, Pippin was almost done descending the tower.
"Job well done, young Hobbit." Mÿne said to him as she grinned. Pippin stepped down to the ground and gave her a tired expression.
"Honestly, that was the most terrifying thing I had to do in my life. And I'm counting 'relieving' farmer Bolger of his precious crops and corn." He quickly added.
"Something tells me faith has a lot more terrifying things planned for us, if our call for aid goes unanswered." Gandalf said darkly. That shut Pippin up and after a scared look at Mÿne and Faramir he remained silent.
Soon again however, he was smiling while Mÿne showed him her new purchase of leaves. Behind them Faramir and Gandalf talked to each other in soft whispers and Mÿne was unable to hear what they were saying. They walked back to the guest building but before Mÿne could enter, Faramir placed a hand on her shoulder. He led her away from Gandalf and Pippin, who gave her some quirky looks before entering the building and disappearing out of sight.
"Mÿne, I'd like to show you my gratitude for what you told me today." He said as he removed his hand from her shoulder. Mÿne watched as Faramir seemed to have difficulties with what he was trying to say. An amused smile formed on her lips as she watched his expression go from certain to insecure and… maybe even a little embarrassment?
"Well, what I'm trying to say is… I'd like to invite you to share dinner with me tonight, to thank you." He said. Mÿne couldn't resist the urge to grin at him.
"Well, that wasn't hard, was it?" she said, still grinning. "But fine, I'll accept."
Faramir smiled softly at her, "I'll send someone over tonight to collect you. And don't be afraid, my father won't be with us, if your mind was asking that question." He quickly added. Mÿne nodded to him and said a quick 'until tonight' before returning to her chambers.
At nightfall she heard a knock on her door. When she opened she was staring at a tall young girl with blue ribbons tied in her dark hair. "Lord Faramir is waiting for you milady." She said solemnly as she gestured outside.
Mÿne followed her and as she did, it struck her how out of place she felt inside the white stone walls of Minas Tirith. Especially when they came to the Steward's building. Mÿne could hear her own footsteps echo against the walls of the hallway. The walls looked so angelic white with white marble floors, covered by dark blue carpets embodied with silver linings and silver trees. Even the servants seemed spotless. Mÿne glanced at the mirror-like glass panels at the walls to see a tired, scruffy looking girl with mismatched clothes that seemed too big for her. With a stern expression on her face she asked herself when she had eaten well for the last time. She didn't had much time to ponder though. Soon enough the servant girl stopped at a big wooden door and knocked a few times before opening it.
"My lord Faramir? Milady Mÿne is here, at your request." She said softly before stepping aside to let Mÿne inside the room.
With an astonished look on her face Mÿne entered a hall-like place. The ceiling was high and wood covered the floor. At the end of the room a fire burned in a hearth. Faramir was standing near one of the open windows, gazing outside. He turned around when she entered and smiled. Mÿne noticed the formal clothes he wore and felt even more out of place, if that was possible.
"Apologies, had I known I would've tried to wear something more elegant." She said as the servant girl left while closing the door.
"Oh this?" Faramir said casually while gesturing for her to sit down at one of the chairs around a big wooden table. "Don't mind it. As son of the steward, it's expected of me to look nice inside the city." He said as he took the seat at the head of the table. He bend over the table to add a whispered 'I hate it'. Mÿne chuckled softly and immediately felt more at ease. She picked up the silver chalice in front of her and stared at her own reflection. It was so clean and spotless, unlike herself.
Soon, servants started to come out and placed dishes on the table. There was grilled chicken with steamed vegetables around it, dark bread and salted butter, fruits including ones Mÿne had never seen before and roasted boar with mushrooms. Mÿne gazed upon the food before her and tried to decide what to have first. Her stomach hadn't growled yet in hunger, but she feared it would if she waited any longer. She decided to try the boar and a servant cut her a piece. It didn't take long before she and Faramir were caught in conversation about the battle of Helms Deep. Mÿne told him everything: how they fought on the Outer Wall, hid in the Keep and how they'd charged outside just in time to see Gandalfs arrival.
"It must've been some experience, I bet." Faramir said as he pushed away his plate. He took a sip of his ale. "You're lucky though to have friends like that. If it wasn't for this Legolas, I would've doubted your survival." He said. Mÿne crooked a small grin as she picked up her chalice of ale. She stopped short before taking a sip.
"Just so I fear. I was lucky he was there, looking out for me. He always does." She said, still smiling.
"It sounds like you care for him deeply." Faramir said, leaning back in his seat.
Mÿne nodded before her expression turned serious. Now that she talked about Legolas she felt even worse for leaving like she had. All she wanted right now was to see his face again, to kiss his soft elven lips and apologize. She missed his company, his stories and the way he secretly looked at her, like she was something extraordinary. It left her bitter, her own misbehavior. With the coming battle, the bitterniss turned into something sour even.
"You look sad, what's wrong?" Faramir asked as he put down his chalice. Mÿne snapped out of her gaze and swirled the ale in her own chalice.
"We got into a fight, back at Edoras. I left him there, without saying farewell. Now I doubt if I'll ever have the chance." She muttered as she took another swig of ale.
Faramir didn't say anything for a moment. Myne didn't think there really was anything to say. After all, this was none of his business. He picked up his own cup and took a swig before he put it down on the table again, before getting up. He walked over to a cabinet and grabbed something from it, wrapped in brown, wrinkly paper.
"I was meaning to give you this, as an extend of my gratitude." He said as he placed the parcel before her. "I thought you could put this to good use. Regard it as a safekeeping and a promise."
"A promise?" Mÿne asked as she looked from Faramir's amused expression to the parcel in front of her. "A promise of what?"
"To keep yourself alive during the upcoming inevitable battle." He said as he walked back to his seat. He picked up his chalice again and looked at her expectantly. "Well go on, unwrap it. It's rude to ignore a host's gift."
Mÿne put down her chalice and started to strip the parcel from its paper. Before she knew it, she was looking at ring mail and boiled leather.
"It's an armor." She said surprised. She stood up and lifted the chest piece out of its containments. The ring mail made soft noises as she lifted it and held in in front of her. She gazed at the steel breastplate with a silver tree pressed in the middle of it. Ring mail hung from its edges, covering the upper legs and backside. Inside the remains of the parcel Mÿne could see arm and leg pieces of boiled leather and a blue undershirt.
"Do you like it?" Faramir said, clearly amused. "It was my mother's. Before she passed away."
Mÿne turned around to look at him. She could almost feel the heavyness of the armor drip from her hands. It was a personal gift. Something that was not his to give away. How could she accept this?
"I can't." she said as she put the armor down. "It must be a precious artifact to remember your dear mother by." She added.
Faramir got up from his seat and placed his hand on her shoulder, again. It seemed that had become a signature move for him whenever he was near.
"I insist." He said, "My mother has no more use for it. Mithrandir told me you do not own an armor and you are going to need it. Trust me, Mÿne. Even if you wear it just this once, you're chances to survive will increase. Don't you want to see your dear friend Legolas again?" He gave a reassuring squeeze in her shoulder.
Mÿne smiled sadly while her hand caressed the chest piece with her hand.
"I do want to see him again." She muttered.
"Then wear it. Not only for him, but also for Boromir. He would be proud to see you wearing it from wherever he might be." Faramir muttered softly.
Mÿne started to smile a little at that thought, before she turned around and wrapped her arms around Faramirs neck, giving him a tight hug.
"Thank you." She mumbled in his shirt before releasing him. She turned her attention back to her new armor, unaware of the shade of red on Faramir's face.
