Hello everyone! Thank you so much to those of you who reviewed the last chapter, I really appreciate it! I am finally here on time, so long may it continue! As ever, please forgive any typos in this chapter, and enjoy!
Chapter One Hundred and Fourteen: The Return to Minas Tirith
In the months leading up to Nelly's twentieth birthday, Nori had commissioned Lord Jari to craft her necklace. He was very specific in what he asked for – Nelly was never particularly fond of jewellery, so it had to be special, and it had to be strong, and robust. It had to be able to last through rough and tumble, and through journeys that spanned the length of the world. He had never been a craftsman, or an artist, but he was specific, very specific.
Jari had delivered.
The pendant was beautiful, and so intricate that it looked like a real flower, a waterlily the size of a daisy – a waterlily painted in gold. Flecks of diamond lined the petals – nothing too big, or obvious, nothing too gaudy – just enough to make it twinkle when it caught the light. Just enough to be perfect. Across the back, Nelly's name was carved in dwarven runes, runes laced with white gold. It was a flower as hard as iron, strong as steel – and it was perfect.
So, two nights before her birthday, Nori had given it to her parents.
"I made sure it was special," he had said gruffly. "More than a little trinket, it's – something she could wear for the rest of her life. But I don't want to overstep, and I reckon that something like that should come from her parents."
Paladin and Ellie had exchanged a silent glance, and then, with a smile, Paladin had passed the necklace right back.
"We appreciate the gesture," Ellie had murmured, "but we know you are not trying to upstage us, or replace us. The friendship you two have – I am so grateful for it, Nori. I know that you will always keep her safe, and I know how much you adore her. I love Nelly more than anything – she is my daughter, and she always will be. But that doesn't mean we don't see that she is, in a way, your daughter, too. You deserve to give it to her, Nori."
"Besides," Paladin had added with a grin, "if it comes from you she might actually wear the thing."
And Nori had given it to her. When she opened it, her eyes had lit up, and she'd smiled from ear to ear, and he hadn't seen her without it since.
And then he had seen it in a grubby little box, strewn amongst Bróin's rings, and their beads. There were strands of her hair still caught in the chain.
But she was gone.
Nori had failed her. He should have known she would try something in Rivendell – he should have been faster. He should have caught her on the road, he should never have let Bilbo talk him out of tracking her down after Mirkwood.
Even when he did have the chance to rescue her, Nori had turned around, and he had let himself get wounded. Rendered himself useless.
His last, desperate attempt to send her help had been useless, too. He had drawn up a plan, as detailed as he could make it, and he had sent Bofur, Dori, and Dwalin in his place – but within days the news had come from the South.
Nelly had escaped herself, and she had made it to Mordor.
But she had not made it back.
And there was nothing more that Nori could do.
There were things for others to do – Bragi went out to bring back Dori and the others, and Thorin sent folk to begin cleaning the ruins of Dale, and scouts to discover what had happened in Esgaroth. The rest of the company were running around like madmen, helping those who had been displaced by the fighting, or those still in the Healing Halls.
And Nori lay in bed, alone in the dark.
It had been over two weeks, now, and he knew what that meant. He knew that if they were lucky enough to receive news at all it would be the discovery of bodies. Of corpses that they could bury.
He closed his fist around the flower.
Someone shrieked, and Nori's heart lurched. He sat up in bed, reaching for a nearby knife as the cry grew nearer, and someone began to pound on his front door.
"Nori!" the voice shrieked. "Nori, Nori, Nori!"
"Good grief, just get in here!" he yelled back, dragging himself to the side of the bed and reaching for the crutches propped up against the dresser.
Before he could reach them Pervinca Took swept into his room like a whirlwind, squealing at the top of her lungs. "They're alive!"
"Wha-"
She threw herself at him, knocking him back up onto the bed and squeezing so tightly that she almost seemed as strong as her sister, and Nori struggled to breathe.
"What-" he wheezed, "you talking-"
"Nelly!" Vinca cried, tumbling back and seizing Nori's hands, heedless of the necklace and the knife. A huge smile reached across her face, and her eyes were full of tears. "She's alive, Nori, they found them, they found them, they're alright! They're alright, Nori, they're alive! Nelly and Bróin and Frodo and Sam, they're all alive!"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down!" Nori dropped the knife and seized Vinca's wrist. His heart was pounding a mile a minute, and if this was some mistake – "Who told you that? When? How?"
"The eagles," she breathed, her eyes shining. "I was at the gate, by the gate, and Thorin – Gwaihir arrived, the Windlord, you know, and he, he had word from Gandalf and – he said they were all alive, all four of them, that he's seen them with their own eyes, that – oh!" With that, she squealed again, tumbling once more into Nori's arms. This time he was slightly more prepared, catching her before she could knock him down.
Still, it felt as though there was no air in Nori's lungs. "They're – alive?"
Vinca nodded into his shoulder, drawing back again. She was trembling, and beaming, and Nori thought his heart might burst. "Gandalf's letter said that they're going to go to Minas Tirith to re-group and recover, and then after Aragorn's coronation they'll come home, with an escort and that they're, they're going to be alright and they'll be home in a couple of months and they're alive!"
For a moment, Nori could not breathe, but then he choked, and then he laughed, and he laughed until he could not breathe again. Joy was exploding in his chest, so hot and fierce that it hurt, but he did not care, because they were alive. Nelly was alive.
And really, nothing else mattered.
It was so strange, now, for the pain to be tolerable.
Nelly had become so used to agony that the dull, distant ache in her ankle and shoulder were almost foreign. The lack of hunger was strange, too, something she had not felt in… well, she could hardly remember. They were travelling, but Nelly was not in pain, and she was not hungry, and she was not afraid…
It felt so strange.
It felt so safe.
She had almost forgotten what safe felt like. It made the journey back to Minas Tirith seem so fleeting, and almost serene. It should not have done – they were travelling with an army, spending hours upon hours on horseback, among loud, sweaty men, eating army rations and sleeping on rocky ground beneath flimsy tents, but it was.
It was wonderful.
At first, she spent the days riding side-saddle, tucked in Gimli's lap with his arms wrapped securely around her. It was easier, more comfortable, and she was able to doze off, if she wanted to. When she was settled so securely in her cousin's lap, she found that the nightmares left her alone.
But as the days fluttered by, she slept less in the day and more in the night, and she sat up straighter on the horse. It stopped being so tiring to tell stories, and by the time the white city of Minas Tirith glimmered on the horizon, she could take a few shaking steps with the make-shift crutches that Elladan had provided. When the boys would let her. More often Gimli or Boromir or Aragorn would carry both her and Frodo from a to b. She would have minded greatly if she was not so touched by the gesture – and if she had any inclination they did so out of pity.
In all, it took about twelve days to get back to Minas Tirith, and as they passed through the gates great crowds of people thronged around them, cheering and waving and singing in the streets. It warmed Nelly's heart, and Pippin waved like a true little hero, but when she glanced over her shoulder she saw the survivors of Mordor cringing, and shying away from the attention.
She threw them an encouraging smile over her shoulder, but only Red did not have his eyes trained on the ground, and he did not seem to have the strength to smile.
"Legolas," Aragorn murmured, just ahead of her. "Take our hobbits and the survivors of Mordor up to the Houses of Healing. Boromir and I must address the people, but we will be up before too long. Those who have less injuries may wait in the gardens until we find lodging for them. It will comfort them to know they can reach the hobbits, if they must."
Legolas nodded, taking the reins of the horse that Nelly and Gimli rode from Éomer, and heading up a side ally with a soft call. Though Éomer lingered with Boromir and Aragorn, the other Rohirrim who had leant their horses to the survivors continued to lead them through the winding streets of the city. Elladan and Elrohir walked among them, occasionally pointing at a statue or mural and telling Red and Rín who is showed. Nelly stared at the smooth, white stone, and the pale cobbles beneath them as they made their way ever upwards.
The city was so vast it took them almost an hour to reach the Houses of Healing right at the top. Healers in cream and grey robes came out to meet them, and after a quick word from Elrond's sons, they began to help the survivors of Mordor down from the horses, and into the gardens. The Rohirrim lingered behind, gathering the reins of the horses.
"Don't worry," Gimli said gruffly, cradling Nelly carefully in his arms, and somehow managing not to make her feel like a child. "We're going straight to Merry."
"But be careful," said Pippin, a sudden solemnity in his voice. Nelly glanced at him, her stomach curling slightly. Her little brother was staring at the entrance to the Houses of Healing with the same haunted look Nelly had seen Frodo throw back towards Mordor, his eyes a little glazed, and his shoulders tight. "He was badly hurt."
Gimli's grip grew tighter on Nelly, but his voice was calm as he spoke. "Aye, but it's been nigh on a month since we marched away, Pippin. I've no doubt he's a lot stronger now."
Pippin pursed his lips together and glanced away. He had not spoken much about the battle at Minas Tirith – in fact he had not spoken about it at all. Gimli had told her about Merry's injury, and then about Lord Denethor losing his mind and attacking both Merry and Pippin, but her brother had not spoken a single word on the subject, not once.
"Come," said Legolas softly, glancing over his shoulder and giving his arm to Frodo, taking most of the hobbit's weight. "Though I fear, Toothy, that you may have to wait outside. You might scare the other patients, and in any case I doubt you'll fit through Merry's door."
Bróin chuckled, and for a moment once again Nelly marvelled at how well he looked. Now, nearly two weeks out of Mordor, he coughed only a little, and only ever at night, and the sparkle was stronger than ever in his eyes. Though he was far from full strength, he was much better than he had been – he could walk without crutches now, and his laugh had returned – that laugh that stole his breath from him, and Nelly was more certain than ever it was her favourite sound in the world.
He dismounted, scratching Toothy's snout. "Wait here for a minute then, good boy."
One of the Rohirrim, a man who had previously introduced himself as Elfhelm, cleared his throat. "Forgive me, my lords, but perhaps leaving him unattended by the entrance to a healing halls will cause a disturbance among the wounded… If you wish I am happy to lead the beast to the stables and see him fed and watered."
"Oh, would you?" Bróin asked eagerly, his eyes shining.
Elfhelm inclined his head. "Though I month ago I would have called you mad for suggesting I take such a task, yes, I would. I'd like to think I've got to know the beast a little over the road, and that he might trust me for an hour or two. Until you are settled, at least."
Nelly grinned. "And there'd be no correlation between his trusting you and your constantly slipping him jerky on the road, now, would there?"
The rider grinned back. "I am a man of the Rohirrim, my lady. We believe that animals in our service should be treated with high honour. Now, again, I didn't think such a concept would ever extend to warg-kind, but I'd say the beast has proven himself. I should be honoured to take care of him."
"In that case, thank you very much," said Bróin, turning back to Toothy. "You're going to go with Elfhelm for a while," he said, as though the warg had as much understanding as Beorn's wolves. "I'll see you later."
The man approached, taking Toothy's reins from Bróin, and when the dwarf nodded Toothy gave a happy little huff, snuffling around Elfhelm's pockets. Laughing, the man led the warg away, and Gimli snorted, heading inside the Houses of Healing. The others followed, though Pippin quickly scurried to the front of the group. He was the first to reach the door to what Nelly assumed was Merry's room, failing to even attempt to knock and instead bursting inside.
As the door swung open, Nelly's heart soared. In the centre of the room was a bed, which was empty, and over to the side, by an open window, there was a small table with four chairs – three of them occupied. In one, facing the door, sat Faramir, and beside him was a tall, blonde lady in a cream dress, with a pale face and a small smile. In the third chair, there was a familiar curly head, with his back to the door. Curled up by his feet was a snoozing, three legged wolf.
At once, Faramir beamed, nodding his head, and then Merry peered over his shoulder.
And then Merry choked, and fell off his chair.
Nelly gasped, horror stabbing at her throat, but the woman laughed as she put out a hand to stop the hobbit hitting the floor, and Merry scrambled to his feet, launching across the room fast as Toothy on Mount Doom.
With a wild sob, Merry through his arms around Pippin and Frodo, and tried desperately to include as many of the others in the embrace as he could. After a moment, he clearly decided this was impossible, and fell between them instead, hugging Nelly and Gimli and then falling to Sam and Bróin, and then back to Pippin and to Frodo. Denahi woke with a whine, and then howled gleefully, tearing across the room after Merry to jump up on the new arrivals.
"You're – you're all alive," Merry choked, staring over each of their faces as though he thought one of them might disappear in a puff of smoke. "All – all of you?"
"Just about," Bróin said cheerfully, ruffling Merry's hair.
"You're on your feet!" Pippin said, looking anxiously at Merry and somehow ignoring Denahi, who was butting impatiently at his pocket. "How are you feeling? Should you be on your feet?"
Merry blinked, shaking his head as though the question was a ridiculous one. "Wha- me? I'm fine! I've been on my feet for two and a half weeks." He pulled up his tunic to reveal bright red scar above his hip. "There's one on the back to match, but it isn't so bad. It hurts a little, now and then, but not badly. It's more like an ache. I'm fine, Pippin, I promise."
"Well, you weren't when it happened," Pippin said stubbornly, and Merry's face softened a little.
"Honestly, Pippin, I'm just fine," he swore, squeezing Pippin's hand. "My arm took longer to heal, but that's better too. Just a little cold, now and then." He glanced over the others, and his face grew tight. "It looks like the same can't be said for you all."
Nelly scoffed. "What're you talking about? We're fine. I'd be on my feet just fine if it wasn't for a slight warhammering to the ankle."
"Not to mention the light stabbing of the shoulder and severe gravel-rash of being thrown halfway down an exploding volcano by a rampaging warg," said Bróin lightly. Merry grew paler, and the eyes of the menfolk at the table grew almost as wide as his. "I've taken much better care of myself, for the record."
"Oh yes, just a near drowning leading to a sickness that nearly killed you, much better." Nelly scowled, but Bróin just laughed.
"Oh, so we can poke fun of your injuries, but not mine?" he said, and Nelly nodded.
"Precisely. You nearly died."
"So did you!"
"Excuse me, the lot of you, I'm the only one that didn't nearly die," said Sam, folding his arms over his chest. It was a good sign he was able to do so – the knife wound in his shoulder had healed marvellously since Elrohir had looked at it.
"Why, my wounds weren't so bad," protested Frodo. "I mean having an orc bite the meat off my leg wasn't pleasant, but-"
Sam barked a laugh. "Do you forget, Frodo, that you were dangling over a volcano of lava with one hand while that happened? If that's not nearly dying then I'm an elf."
Frodo opened his mouth, and then paused, bobbing his head from one side and then to the other. "I suppose. You did get stabbed though, Sam."
"In the shoulder. It missed anything important."
"That's enough," said Gimli. "I'm not sure I've known about all this long enough to joke yet, and Merry certainly hasn't. Sit down again before you pass out, lad."
"I'm not, not going to pass out," said Merry quietly, looking at Gimli. "Please tell me they're exaggerating?"
"Alas, no," Gimli sighed heavily. "But they're also not exaggerating when they say they're all out of the woods now, thanks be to Mahal. And to Gandalf and Aragorn, and those elven twins." He glanced over his shoulder at the menfolk at the table. "Hello, my Lady Éowyn, Lord Faramir – it's good to see you both up and about again."
"As it's good to see you in one piece, Master Gimli," said the blonde lady, smiling fondly. "I take it my brother is with Lord Aragorn?"
"Aye," said Gimli, and Merry gave a snort of annoyance.
"These two lucky beggars knew their brothers were alright from the first letter!" he said, gesturing towards Éowyn and Faramir. "But could anyone tell me if any of my kin were alright? No…"
"In the defence of Aragorn's messenger, we saw neither hide nor hair of any of these ruffians for nigh on two weeks after the battle," said Legolas, nodding down at Frodo. "We thought the worst for almost as long as you did, I am sure. Gandalf and the eagles spent days searching, but they did not realise how far away they were able to get from Mount Doom when it blew."
"That was down to Toothy," said Bróin proudly.
"He's a good boy," Nelly agreed. "But it would've been nice if he hadn't carted us straight to the ruins of Barad-dur and hidden us from Gandalf. That would've made things much easier."
Bróin frowned. "He didn't know where he was going."
Smiling, Faramir stood up. "Perhaps we should leave you in peace for a while. I'm sure there will be plenty of time to catch up soon."
The Lady Éowyn stood beside him, bowing her head, and then she smiled at Nelly. "Miss Took?" Nelly nodded, and Éowyn's smile grew softer. "I have heard much about you," she said, her eyes sparkling. "I – I should very much like to speak with you, if you don't mind? When you are settled?"
"That'd be lovely," Nelly said, and Éowyn beamed, bowing.
"Tomorrow perhaps? We could take tea?"
Nelly grinned back. "I'd love that."
"Then it is settled," Éowyn said happily. "I will take my leave of you now – I must see my brother."
"I will come with you," said Faramir, holding out an arm to escort her from the room. Nelly did not miss the fact that he blushed a little as Éowyn took it.
"Oh, uh, just so you're not surprised," Pippin said quickly. "Boromir might've, uh, lost an eye."
Faramir froze, his own eyes widening in horror. "He what?"
"Just the one!" Pippin said hastily. "And he's much less upset about it than I was. He's just fine otherwise."
With a small smile, Éowyn squeezed Faramir's hand. "Come, we shall see for ourselves."
As the menfolk bowed out, Gimli crossed the room and sat Nelly gently on the edge of the bed. Most of the others scrambled up beside her, though Frodo, Legolas and Gimli all took chairs instead. Merry snuggled in beside Pippin and Bróin, leaning against the dwarf slightly even as his arms wrapped tight around Nelly's little brother.
"I… I'd started to… to think it was hopeless," he said softly. Denahi gave a sad whine, crossing the room and sitting at Frodo's side, resting his head in the hobbit's lap.
"We did, too," Pippin replied, shivering slightly. "For two weeks we thought they were dead…"
But Merry made an odd, strangled sort of a sound, and closed his eyes. "But I thought you were dead, too, Pippin. I – I think I even believed it more. The others had a chance, but you and Gimli and Legolas – you knew what you were walking into and you didn't expect to walk out of it, and – and I was so scared that you wouldn't."
"It's alright now, lad," said Gimli calmly. "It's alright. It's over."
Merry nodded, his eyes still closed.
Swallowing, Nelly reached out, entwining her fingers with Bróin's. He glanced at her, and though it had been back for a while she could still cry with joy to see the life back in his eyes. She would never grow tired of seeing it. He smiled at her, and leant to the side, resting his head on hers, and holding her hand a little tighter.
Gimli was right. It was over.
They had made it.
I hope that you enjoyed that chapter! Next week we'll be back to the line of Durin! Please do let me know what you think – and look after yourselves!
Until next time, take care.