I'm back, I've been gone ridiculously long, you could say I've been sidetracked. :P

ok, no more oneshots, I am fully committed to this story, I will not write anything else until I finish it, and that's a promise. :)

Alright, this is super long, your welcome. :D

The fight had already begun when he took the message, judging by the arrow in his leg.

I dropped the book and slid a longsword into my belt.

Esgalnoron stopped mid-braid and rushed for his quiver.

"You boys! Get with Amathron!" Rainor called as he hurried out of the clearing with his Rangers behind him.

Amathron trained us 'boys' the most, and was our unofficial keeper.

"Boys! Hurry! After me!" He called in his loud, deep voice, slipping through the trees signaling for us to follow.

We ran, breathless, through the woods, hoping we wouldn't come too late.

Every time I put weight on my knee, a terrible pain raced up through my leg.

That wasn't new, certainly not.

My unfinished braid flapped behind me as we ran at a break-neck pace.

It was so fast that Medlithor ran into a tree.

Please don't laugh, he is still sensitive about it.

::::::::::::::::::::::::

After running for nearly a whole hour, we broke through the trees.

The battle was over.

We were too late.

The Rangers had lost.

Bodies littered the ground.

Thankfully, it had only been a small detachment of men that had been there, but it was still very unfortunate.

"Search for survivors!" The Captain called out hoarsely, crouching beside a fallen man, checking for a pulse.

I ran across the field, lifting up bloodied faces, hoping for life where there was none.

Esgalnoron just stood there, frozen.

He tried to make himself move, but he could not.

There was blood on his boots.

There was blood on his hands as he knelt down to see if a man was really dead.

His head began to spin, he felt himself heating up, his legs shaking.

Then he saw a head.

A man's head, staring at him, without a body.

His stomach flipped.

He stumbled, but managed to pick himself up.

And then he saw the remains of an Orc.

The insides, and the outsides.

::::::::::::::::::::

They had found one survivor so far.

I ran wildly from body to body, checking for pulse, anything.

I found nothing.

Then a raven mop of bloodied hair caught my attention.

I rushed over and knelt down, feeling the blood of a dead Orc seep through my pant leg as I did so.

I grabbed the hair, turned over the face.

It was smudged with blood, badly bruised, but I could tell that he was young, he couldn't be a fully grown man yet, though he looked nearly there. But then the eyes cracked open for a second.

My heart skipped a beat.

"Amathron!" I called, my voice weighted with joy, "A survivor!"

Amathron and Cullastor rushed over and lifted the man up and began to carry him.

And then I remembered.

Esgalnoron. Oh no.

I had completely forgotten about him!

I rushed back to where I had last seen him.

He wasn't there.

After much searching I finally drew back a bush to find him: his knees drawn up to him, his head resting pathetically on them.

I could see that he had been sick, but I was glad, considering that last time he had been rendered unconscious.

"Esgalnoron!" I cried as I dropped to my knees, wrapping my arms tightly around him.

He shook uncontrollably for a moment before he could lift his head.

"I'm so sorry I forgot about you!" I felt so guilty as I helped him to his feet, helped him to lean on me.

"I'm sorry, I tried so hard." He croaked, putting a hand to his head.

I placed an arm steadily about his waist.

"Cover your eyes. We're going back out."

He groaned but obeyed, and we broke through the bushes and made our way back to the rest.

Everyone stumbled slowly back to camp.

The three survivors were carried, and Esgalnoron leaned on me though he insisted he did not need it.

I convinced him that he did.

It took about three hours to get back, and when we finally did everyone was exhausted.

"Esgalnoron," I said as I lay him down back in camp, "you need to rest, in an hour you'll probably feel back to normal."

He didn't protest and was soon fast asleep.

"Thurin, you should rest a bit too. I can easily tell that you've hurt yourself someplace or other." Amathron chuckled as he pushed me down, despite my best efforts against him.

"In your spear-throwing classes."

He just chuckled some more.

I sighed as I leant back against the tree.

:::::::::::::::::::

Esgalnoron woke up about an hour and a half later, feeling wonderful.

"I don't know what comes over me." He sighed, embarrassed, as I asked how he was doing.

"Esgalnoron," I said after I was sure he was alright, "I am going to go check on the survivors-"

"And I'm coming too." He grinned in an 'I'm stronger than you and you know it so don't try to stop me' kind of way as we headed over towards the tent.

Those grey eyes had been in my mind ever since I had a glance of them a few hours ago.

I needed to see him, though I knew not why.

When we entered the tent I walked right past the other beds.

I had seen him, lying unconscious in the far corner.

As I looked at him I gasped.

"What is this man's name?" I asked our healer, my breath coming in ragged gulps.

"He looks to be Faramir, son of Denethor. He has had a concussion, but I think he will be fine.

I choked.

"What's the matter Thurin?" Esgalnoron asked worriedly as I fell to my knees beside Faramir.

I tried to speak but I found that I couldn't.

"Thurin!" Esgalnoron said again, his voice had slightly risen.

"Faramir." I managed to whisper, tears streaming down my face as I brushed the hair from his face.

"Faramir!" I finally sobbed, laying my shaking head down on his chest.

::::::::::::::::::::::

Faramir didn't quite know where he was.

His head hurt terribly, his body felt as if it was weighted down with rocks.

He couldn't remember why he felt this way.

Had he suddenly fallen ill? Had he fallen?

And then he felt a hand.

He felt a hand carefully stroking his head.

Pushing the hair from his face.

What hand was this?

It felt like Finduilas' hand.

It was soft, gentle, yet worn. Not worn from age, but from work, weakness. Maybe even sickness.

He must be ill.

Finduilas was taking care of him.

He wondered if Boromir was sick too, no, probably not.

He wanted to see his mother, he tried to open his eyes.

There she was.

Her long raven hair was pulled back in an unfinished braid.

Strange.

Mother never wore her hair that way.

Faramir brushed the thought away.

There were her eyes. Grey, deep eyes.

There were tears on her cheeks.

"Faramir," she whispered hoarsely as he opened his eyes.

Something wasn't right.

Finduilas' voice was older, more light. Airier.

"wake up. It's me." She choked on her own words.

Suddenly memories flashed before his eyes.

Finduilas was dead.

Fimil was dead.

He had been knocked out in the fight, he was imagining things.

"Mother?" He managed to ask weakly.

She shook her head, a tear escaped her eyes and slid down her cheek.

"Fimil?" Faramir whispered, afraid of the answer.

She smiled, and nodded.

"I thought you were dead. Does this mean I'm dead?" He croaked unbelievingly, trying to rise.

She pushed him back down.

"No. But I thought you were dead too." She sobbed, wrapping her arms around him.

::::::::::::::::::::::

Esgalnoron didn't know what to think.

He had always thought he knew, but now it was a certainty.

Thurin was the youngest child of the Steward of Gondor.

Everything was going to change now.

Her brother was going to take her back, she would become a lady.

And he would be alone.

He had always known this would happen.

She had always talked about them in her sleep, it was just a matter of time before she found them.

He had left them alone in the healing tent, it was the polite thing to do.

He hadn't told Amathron, or Rainor, or anyone about it. Thurin could do that when she was ready.

She was no longer his any more.

Before, he had always taken care of her.

He had kept her warm at night by sleeping back to back with her, he had done her braid, he had bandaged her legs, he had caught her when she tripped.

Ever since he had first met her, he had felt a certain responsibility for her.

After all, he was four years older than she.

They had been the small ones who took care of each other.

He realized with anxiety that Thurin would have a much larger chance of tripping herself up in a dress than in her simple Ranger garb.

She'd probably catch cold sleeping all alone in Minas Tirith.

He couldn't stand it any longer. Courtesy or not, he had to know what was going to happen.

:::::::::::::::::

"Fimil, how did you get here? What are you doing in a Ranger camp?" Faramir asked, now he was able to sit up and think clearly.

I laughed: "I am a Ranger, Faramir. And my name's Thurin."

Faramir's eyes widened.

"How? How is is that possible?"

"I'm stronger now. Esgalnoron and Da helped me."

"Da?" Faramir was confused.

"Thorongil. He is one of the Rangers here, he is like a father to me; but Esgalnoron sort of raised me too I guess. They mean the world to me."

Faramir looked troubled.

"I think you should stay here Fimil, I mean Thurin."

"What do you mean?"

He shook his head.

"You seem happy here. If you are really stronger, I think it would be best if you stayed here for the time being. Father is, well, terribly changed. In fact, I don't think we should tell him at all. But Boromir, he loves you so much. He will be home in a few weeks. You and I could journey to Minas Tirith to meet him. We could stay out of father's way, and then come back here."

"I can't hide forever, Faramir"

"I know, this will just be an arrangement for now. When does the healer think I will be well?"

"Within two weeks."

"Good. How are the others doing?"

"They are both going to be fine."

"That's a relief. Those Orcs came out of nowhere."

I nodded. I knew that feeling far too well. The shock when you feel safe, and then they are upon you.

I also knew the thrill(that Faramir most certainly did not have), when you grab an Orc and wrestle the dagger from its hands.

"You're so changed." Faramir sighed, running his hand over my cheek.

I smiled.

"So are you. I don't remember that stubble last time I saw you."

He laughed. "Just wait 'till you see Boromir! He's so big, and strong, well he always was, but even more so!"

It was easy to see that one thing sure hadn't changed: Faramir's adoration for Boromir.

The more I talked to him the more I remembered.

I remembered our chambers, my rag-doll; I remembered Boromir's blunted sword which he had overly treasured.

There was a brief pause.

"Have you told them?"

"No. But Esgalnoron knows. He was here when I recognized you."

"You have to tell them Fi-Thurin."

I sighed. I had been putting it off.

Of course everyone suspected something, I had been in this tent for nearly four days straight after all.

Faramir looked at me in that way he has. The way he always did when I did something naughty as I child.

"All right! I'll go. I'll tell them." I sighed.

He nodded in approval as I rose and headed for the tent flaps.

"Captain? Captain, where are you?" I called casually while I searched for something to eat.

I hadn't eaten anything yet all day, and it was just getting to me.

"Thurin?" Esgalnoron hurried up, appalled at the sight of me, and began fishing through our satchels for a comb as fast as he possibly could.

I noticed that he was avoiding my glance.

"What's the matter?"

At last I found an apple.

"Nothing's the matter." He smiled forcedly as he yanked me up by my hair, and began to comb it aggressively.

"There is something the matter." I winced as I tried to snatch the comb from his hands.

"No there isn't." He began to braid it to the side.

"Yes there is." I twisted around, trying to grab his hair, which went down far past his shoulders. I succeeded, and tried to yank the comb through it.

He laughed as he snatched the long lock from my grasp, finishing the fine braid with a flourish.

Then he assumed a more serious air.

"Thurin, we need to talk."

"I know."

He entwined his arms with mine and we sunk down against the tree.

"I'm the youngest child of the Steward of Gondor."

"I know. I've always known."

I looked up sharply, surprised.

"What do you mean?"

"You talked in your sleep about it. I put together the pieces."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked in a hurt air.

"I'm sorry. I wasn't sure, and, and...I just..." He sighed.

"I understand."

Esgalnoron turned his head away.

"I guess this means your going to Minas Tirith now? This is the end?" His words were more a statement than a question.

"No. I will travel with Faramir to see Boromir, but I won't stay."

Esgalnoron's eyes lit up.

"Wonderful!" He crowed in delight as he spun me around and around.

"Where is Captain?" I breathed once I had recovered myself.

"Consulting Amathron or something about patrols."

"Thanks." I hurried off in the direction of the Captain's tent, just as Rainor emerged.

"Captain!"

"Thurin! What's going on?"

"Rainor, I've found my family. I'm the youngest child of the Steward of Gondor."

Captain's eyes widened with surprise.

"Faramir is my older brother. We are leaving for Gondor when he is well, but not for good, don't worry!" I cried, seeing his alarmed look.

"Won't the Steward want you back? You are his daughter, after all."

"Not really, I'm not exactly welcome there. You are my Captain. You always will be."

He enveloped me in an enormous bear hug.

I was rather surprised, the Captain usually tried to restrain himself from such shows of emotion

"Captain?"

"Yes?"

"Don't tell anyone, please? I don't want to be a lady of Gondor in their eyes. I want to be Thurin the Ranger."

"As you wish." He nodded curtly, releasing me from his grasp.

::::::::::::::::::::::

"Goodbye Thurin! See you soon! Promise to take extra care of your braids!" Esgalnoron waved madly as Faramir and I hurried off.

"I know, Esgalnoron! You've already reminded me! I'll be back very soon! Wait for me!" I called back, before making my way into the dense brush.

:::::::::::::::::::

"I can't believe I've found you! I can't believe it!" Faramir smiled as we forded a small river.

"I've missed you all terribly! It will be wonderful to see Boromir again!" I sighed as I slipped on a rock and went down.

Faramir looked alarmed for a moment, before helping me back up.

"Happens all the time." I assured, wringing out my sodden clothing, sadly glancing at the empty space beside me where Esgalnoron usually was.

He smiled.

"You always were one for tripping and falling."

And so our journey began. It wasn't particularly long, but it wasn't a skip in the woods either. We were ambushed by four Orcs along the way, who were quickly subdued by our swords and daggers. If there's one thing I have to my credit, it's fast reflexes. Lightening fast. Almost as fast as Esgalnoron's(Esgalnoron has unbelievable reflexes, I suppose I have trained him well).

It was rather awkward, though. I hadn't seen Faramir for ten years, and things can change drastically over ten years. There was many quiet night around the campfire, both of us hoping the other would speak. There were many long silences which we endured as best we could. It was like seeing an old friend you haven't seen for ages, for ten years is a long time to be apart.

:::::::::::::::::

"We're here! The lovely white city!(though I prefer the seaside myself)" Faramir proclaimed as we beheld its splendor.

My eyes widened. I had very, very vague memories of the city, but not even Faramir's exited explanations could prepare me for what I saw: It was massive, towering high over everything in sight.

"I don't think I can do this." I whispered nervously, cities always make me nervous.

"Nonsense, we cannot deny Boromir the pleasure. Come on."

:::::::::::::::::::

"Faramir!" Boromir cried in delight, practically attacking his little brother with excitement.

"We thought you were dead!"

The brothers just held each other for a moment in tender embrace, tears in their eyes.

Then Boromir noticed me, standing some distance away, waiting expectantly.

"And who's this lady you brought back with ya'?" He asked teasingly as he approached.

Suddenly he froze in shock, just staring. His mouth fell open.

"No. No!" He said after a moment, a look of confusion on his face. "No! This is some cruel joke! I will not have it!" He fumbled in a distressed way waving his hands wildly.

"Boromir, do you not recognize me?" I whispered, staring into his troubled eyes.

He softly grabbed my shoulders.

"It is you! It must be!"

"Boromir!" I cried with delight, as we embraced happily, finally reunited.

"We better not tell father." Boromir whispered worriedly as we released.

I nodded.

"Boromir, I can't stay here. I will go back home to the Rangers soon."

Boromir's jaw just about hit the the floor.

"What do you mean?! Ranger? What? You must be joking!"

"It is a long story, I could tell you it now-"

"Where can she stay, brother?" Faramir asked worriedly, peering anxiously down the corner as if afraid Denethor might appear at any moment.

"Fimil, you'd best assume Ranger garb once more and stay at a nearby tavern. That would be safest. I think you should return to your camp soon though."

"I'm Thurin now." I said, before nodding sadly.

"Come on! We'll give you a tour of the city!" Announced Faramir brightly, taking my arm and leading me out of our chambers.

Boromir hurried behind, claiming my other arm.

The servants were rather befuddled at the sight of Boromir and Faramir, compassionately leading a suspicious looking Ranger through the halls. They decided not to think on it.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

"I can do it on my own Faramir! I'm fourteen now for heavens sakes!"

"Barely fourteen. Are you sure you'll be alright? And it's snowing too, you'll catch cold."

"Positive! I know these woods like the back of my hand! I won't catch cold, how could I?"

This conversation lead to a long, painful, ridiculous, completely lost, very cold, and rather tiresome journey home.

Esgalnoron was going to murder my once he found out I'd done it along. Woe is me.

::::::::::::::::::::::::

"I can't believe you stayed so long!"

These were the welcoming words I received from my best friend as I stumbled into camp weeks later, cold, shaking, hungry, and tired.

"I'm excited to see you too, Esgalnoron."

He glared at me darkly.

"And you celebrated your birthday without me? Unbelievable."

"Humph. If you want to be that way, be that way. I am going to find something warm and go to sleep." I growled venomously, wrapping my cloak around myself more tightly before hurrying off towards Medlithor, maker of the best stew you've ever tasted.

Esgalnoron just bent over his work, ignoring me.

Sometimes I hate him.

But everything changed that night when I was curled up against a snow-free tree-root, full of stew and wrapped in a new cloak.

"Esgalnoron?" I whispered, tapping the sleeping Ranger's shoulder timidly.

His eyes cracked open, and he glanced up at me, eyes questioning.

"I'm sorry, about what I said to you. I was tired, and cold, and my ankles hurt like the halls of Mandos, and, just sorry."

Esgalnoron smiled to himself before replying, "I knew you'd come around, you always do. But I'm sorry for being stubborn on my end. Forgive and forget, right? And don't use such language, what would your Da think?"

"Has he returned yet?" I asked hopefully, running my hand through the snow-covered grass.

Esgalnoron shook his head.

"I just wish he would tell me. About everything. I feel like he keeps so much from me, though I know he can't tell. Esgalnoron, sometimes I get this weird feeling, that, oh, it's nothing."

"That what?"

"Sometimes, when I talk to him, I get this weird feeling, that he's the one, the King." I whispered, my voice barely audible as I shared the awesome thought my mind had been cultivating for some years now.

Esgalnoron's eyes widened.

"I've always made it my personal mission to find him. Yet, somehow, it feels like he's been under my nose this whole time. What do you think?"

"I don't know, but, now that I consider it, he does seem rather like you say at times." Esgalnoron felt it time to change the subject.

"How was it, seeing your brothers for the first time in, what, nine years?"

"Ten. It was strange. They don't really know me, I don't really know them, yet I do! Ah, it is so strange."

Esgalnoron nodded.

I yawned hugely.

"Thurin, you should sleep. There will be plenty to do tomorrow morning."

"Why is that?"

"Have you not heard? We must move camp tomorrow."

"Why is that? Has some new threat arisen?"

"I do not know, we must go near somewhere called 'Hobbiton'."

I sighed.

"See you tomorrow morning, assuming we are all alive by then."

"Same."

::::::::::::::::::::::

They're going to Hobbiton! *gasp* Will they even make it that far? Is Thorongil indeed the King? How will Thurin re-forge her lost relationship with her brothers? What of the quest to destroy the Ring, when will that happen? What about Thorongil, where has he snuck off to? Excitedly await the next chapter!

:D

Please review, It's the only reward I can get for my hard work, it's the only way I can know that anyone cares. ^.^

~Thurin