A/N: I just want it on record that I literally cried writing Kaia's death last chapter ok

I love you Kaia and I'm sorryyyyyyyy 3

Hopefully this chapter makes up for it (somehow)

To Whatever End: Chapter Seventeen

-Faramir-

I gave a gentle knock on the old wooden door, opening it only after hearing a single voice call for me to enter from within. Slowly, I pushed the door ajar in an attempt to muffle its creaking hinges, closing it at my back as I adjusted to the darkness. The drapes had been drawn shut across the balcony to block out the afternoon sun, with scattered candles lit about the room to serve as the sole light source inside. It was dim and quiet, and nearly empty - Peregrin and Gandalf had been housed here, I knew, though both had been kept busy in the wake of the battle and were nowhere to be seen. The elven prince, Legolas, was one of the room's only occupants now, seated in a large armchair by one of the beds, shadows cast across his face by flickering candlelight. I stepped further into the room, briefly wondering how long he had been there. "Prince Legolas."

He lifted his head to meet my gaze immediately, straightening in his seat. "Captain Faramir," he replied with a short nod. "What news?"

"Kathryn has returned," I reported. "She was brought into the Houses of Healing not long ago by Lord Éomer. I was sent to inform you and Erin of this." The heir of Mirkwood nodded again, his gaze falling to the bed, and I moved closer to peer down at the woman who lie there in peaceful sleep. She had been cleaned and tended to by the healers, far less frightful looking now than when I had first seen her hours ago. I glanced to her stomach, having heard of her near-fatal blood loss from reopening her healing wounds. "She fought hard," I stated quietly. "Perhaps too hard."

Legolas sighed. "She always does."

My gaze flicked briefly to the elf, unsure how much he knew of Erin's previous injuries and hesitant to speak more of them. "She has not yet woken?"

"No. The healers tell me her body may need a few days to recover."

"But she will live?" I asked.

He nodded, eyes lingering on her form. "Yes. She will live."

I did not miss the relief in his words, yet still, he seemed troubled by something deeper than Erin's physical wounds. "Ensure that you take rest for yourself as well," I encouraged. "We are all wearied in the wake of such war." The elf nodded again, but I doubted very much that he'd taken my words to heart. It seemed he had no intent of resting until Erin had woken. It fell silent for awhile, and my thoughts returned to Kathryn, who was in even worse condition than Erin at the present moment. According to witnesses, she had fallen to the Black Breath after engaging the Witch-King of Angmar, an account that was as horrifying as it was unbelievable. She'd gone cold, pale, and entirely unresponsive, and Aragorn had been devoting his attention to her ever since she'd been brought to him, desperate to at least slow the poisonous curse before it claimed her life. Fear settled on my heart as I thought of other men I'd seen carrying the Black Breath. It was almost always fatal, with only extremely skilled healers ever known to successfully combat it. My heart sank as I looked back to Erin's sleeping form. The loss of one will surely be hard enough... I would never be able to tell her she lost them both.

Just then, Legolas shifted in his seat, the small movement drawing me out of my thoughts as I realized I had been standing there in silence for several minutes. I let out a breath, stepping back and clearing my throat. "Well, I shall take my leave. There's much work that needs to be done in the city. I will return if further news of Kathryn develops." I paused to look back at the elf, his gaze still fixed intently on her as if he might will her awake. "Get some rest, Legolas." He said nothing, giving no indication he'd even heard me as I turned to exit the room, returning to the chaos outside and leaving Erin under the prince's watchful eye.

-Legolas-

"Get some rest, Legolas." I said nothing as Faramir turned to leave the room, resisting the urge to scoff at the trivial suggestion. I must have heard that at least a dozen times today. Truthfully, I knew he had meant it in all sincerity, but the idea of simply 'resting' with any amount of ease whatsoever seemed impossible at the moment. There was too much happening, too many things racing through my mind for me to find any true rest now. We were all shaken. I could feel a heavy grief falling over the citadel as the news of Kaia's death spread, which even now I still struggled to accept. It was the last thing any of us had been expecting, so sudden... it almost felt like some kind of illusion, although I knew it was not. I had not seen Aragorn since carrying Erin from the battlefield some hours ago, but I had no doubt this loss was weighing on him greatly. He had been closer with Kaia than almost anyone. My gaze shifted slightly. Almost.

A dull ache resurfaced in my chest as I looked at Erin. It pained me beyond measure to know there was nothing I could do, no remedy in all Arda for such tragedy. There would be no comfort to ease the pain of Kaia's passing. This was a sorrow Erin would carry with her for the rest of her life. I did not know if there were plans for a burial, or anything beyond, but for their sake, I hoped Erin and Kathryn would both be healed in time to be present for it. They deserved at least that in the face of such brutality. And the longer I sat there in silence watching her, the more it hurt. I was so desperate for her to wake, to look at me and smile with the promise that she was alive and well, and yet I dreaded it all the same. It stirred a conflict in me I did not understand... or perhaps I did understand, and was just loathe to admit it.

I sighed, my gaze falling away as my thoughts shifted to that particular conflict. It was inevitable now that the battle was over. I had nothing more to distract myself with, as I had so easily done these past months. I remembered Kaia's words from when we had spoken of it back in Meduseld; the promise I had made to her then. 'When you see her again, the first words out of your mouth had better be whatever decision you end up making.' And she was right, I knew she was. The longer I delayed, the more I risked losing the opportunity to speak with Erin in this brief time of solace. So there was nothing more for me to do now than come to a decision: what did I want, for... for us? I stared at the stone floor, thinking back over everything that had transpired since Helm's Deep. It had been such a short time ago, and yet somehow felt as though half an age had passed since our conversation then. And for all that time, a strange hollowness had taken hold deep within which I could not entirely comprehend. At first I had assumed it was only a natural discomfort from the abrupt change, but it had lingered. Not faded, only grown deeper. An entirely unfamiliar, but persistent ache which seemed to permeate every part of me, flesh and bone. I felt... wrong.

But why? That was what I could not understand - what frustrated me most beyond anything else. Why does this feeling linger? Why do I still care? It did not make sense. All this time, and yet still I felt drawn to her side, terrified she may never wake despite every healer's reassurance she would. My gaze shifted back to her still form, glancing briefly to hands laid gently atop her stomach. Seeing the horrific wounds had been enough of a shock, but hearing how she had obtained them was almost unbelievable. In truth, I had not known what to think when Gandalf first told me of the palantír's destruction - how Erin had very nearly lost her life because of it - but knowing her, it in fact hardly seemed beyond reason at all. Destroys a palantír with the most powerful force known to man, nearly gets herself killed as a result, and within a week runs right back into battle, only to nearly get herself killed again. I sighed, shaking my head as I looked at her. Of course she would. But then I paused, thinking on it further. ...And all for the sake of a city that will likely never even know her name. For a world that is not her own. My eyes traced the familiar angry patterns of scarred flesh still visible along her neck and jawline. ...She would. And she had. Ever since the battle at Helm's Deep, I had seen change in her, the desire to help others rising above all else, no matter what it demanded from her in return. Not the woman I had turned my back on amidst the plains of Rohan... the woman I had met in the forests of Eriador, foreign to this world yet devoted to it with her whole heart. The woman I had fallen for years ago.

Again, I looked to the peaceful expression on her face as she slept, remembering the wide-eyed, vivacious girl who had once joined our company of rangers. She had grown so much since the time I first met her. Growing cramped from my place in the chair, I stood to stretch stiff muscles, turning to cross the room towards the balcony. As I reached it, I hesitated, reluctant to leave her side even for a moment as I glanced back to the bed, but pushed aside the velvet drapes nonetheless and stepped out for a breath of fresh air. The sun's warmth was a welcome feeling, as was the gentle breeze, and I looked out to the sprawling Pelennor far below still ravaged from battle, soldiers moving about to begin their work of clearing the field. My thoughts, however, were still fixed on Erin. Even if she had changed, the rest of the world had not, and the obstacles we faced before still remained. The war was not over, and demanded much from both of us as it were. I did not know whether our paths were to remain the same for a time, or if we would be parted by distance again. And even if we both survived to see Sauron's defeat, what then? My sights fell on the northern horizon, feeling the forest's call in my heart. I meant to return home, once this was over, and Erin would surely not be welcomed warmly into the Woodland Realm at my side. They would brand her a traitor and a murderer. The elves would never accept her. And Father... I hardly even wanted to imagine his reaction to her return. If she ever set foot in his realm again, he may have her thrown into the dungeons and left to rot. And he would never approve of our courtship. I could practically hear his cold, biting words in my head. 'She is not elven, she does not know our people, and she would not be fit to rule. And of all things, Legolas - she is mortal!'

Mortal. I closed my eyes against the sting of it, vividly reminded of that fact now more than ever. For even if she did fully heal from this; even if she emerged from the rest of this war entirely unscathed and was kept from harm the rest of her life... time would take her from me someday. No matter how much I fought to protect her, I could do nothing in the face of her own mortality. The thought of it alone stirred a deep pain in my chest, the familiar ache now mingled with a cold, gripping fear which felt as though it might swallow me whole. My fists clenched in frustration as I leaned against the rail, wanting to be rid of it, but... I couldn't, I couldn't understand it - what it was, why it... why it hurt so much, it... It was the same panic I had felt when she had been poisoned by the assassin, the same paralyzing terror that had overcome me when she had fallen unconscious on the Pelennor... when I thought I had lost her. But why? Why is this something that pains me so greatly? I have faced death a thousand times before, I have seen it take my kin and dearest friends, and it has never felt like this. Not this much. It haunted me in an entirely new way, to think of Erin wounded too deeply in battle or succumbing to disease she could not heal from. But worst was knowing the inevitable... knowing the one thing I could not save her from was time; that she would eventually grow old, weak and frail. That she would die, and I would live on, forever bound to her until the end of my days in grief, never to find peace, because -

In that moment, I froze, the thought striking me so quickly I barely registered it. My eyes opened, brow immediately drawn over them in confusion and shock, but now the thought lingered, as if it were hanging in the air before me, and I frowned. ...No... No, I... I can't be... But even as I resisted the idea, it pierced me deeper than the strongest arrow, deeper than anything, and... I felt it. The realization swept over me slowly, but I felt it. I felt it, and I knew it. And suddenly everything I had ever failed to understand made perfect sense.

I blinked, eyes returning to the battlefield once more as I refocused. The world was still the same, and yet... everything had changed in the same breath. I stared blankly downward, keenly aware of my own heartbeat, and remembering where I was. But as much as there was clarity within me now, there was still conflict, and I felt rooted to the stone of the balcony as I remained utterly still. ...What am I to do, then? If this is true, then... then I should tell her, but... can I? I knew nothing of what she felt. If I told her, it could ruin everything. Too much time has passed by now, surely she would not... It was an impossible risk. A foolish one, one any sane man would know not to take. And yet... there was a part of me that wanted to. But can I? I asked myself again, doubt gnawing at the back of my mind. If I tell her, I cannot take it back. My gaze swept the blood-stained land far beneath. Ever.

-Kathryn-

Everything was dark at first, my mind cloudy as consciousness slowly returned to me, and the first thing I recognized was pain. Pain everywhere, stronger in some spots than others, but everywhere, and I felt so... heavy. Like an iron weight was strapped to my chest. But instinct kicked in quickly, and I felt my lungs expand as I sucked in a breath, then another, then another. And despite feeling like I'd been run over multiple times by a train, the realization that I could breathe sparked a single thought in my mind as the darkness lessened. Holy shit, I'm alive! I'm not dead! Another breath, and the feeling crept back into my limbs as I slowly cracked my eyes open, squinting against the low light. A smooth stone ceiling stretched overhead, and I was laying on something soft - a bed, I'm in a bed - my fingers curling against several warm blankets piled onto me. Every inch of me felt sore as hell, and I was cold, but... I was alive, shockingly.

"Kathryn?"

A rugged voice cut through the silence from my left as my vision came into focus, and as I turned my head, my eyes went wide with relief. "...Éomer!" I croaked, coughing as I tried to push myself up. "Oh my God, what... you - you're here..." A sharp, burning pain shot up my right arm the second I went to lift it, and I gasped, falling back as it immediately went numb again after.

"And so are you, by some miracle." His gaze fell to my arm, and mine followed as he shook his head. "You were all but done for when I brought you back."

My face twisted into a frown as I stared down at it, fighting to clear the haze in my brain. Wait, what? What happened to me? My entire forearm and hand had been bandaged tightly, though I could still see hints of the flesh turned nasty shades of purple-grey here and there. It burned something fierce, like every nerve inside had been lit on fire, but also as if my entire arm was stuck full of icy needles at the same time. I blinked, slowly remembering it all, and my eyes went wide again. ...Oh shit, the Witch-King... I fought the Witch-King of Angmar. I... I stabbed him... My other hand absentmindedly drifted to my throat, fingers grazing the spot on my neck where his flaming sword had left a small scar. "...Did I kill him?"

"No," Éomer answered. "You wounded him, but not enough."

I kept staring at my arm, the details still coming back to me. Yeah, I stabbed him... and then everything hurt, and... and Erin - oh my God! "Erin!" I gasped, eyes immediately jumping back to Éomer's in a panic. "Is she-"

"She is alive," he reassured me. "Healing from her own wounds, but alive."

My shoulders sagged, and I let out a breath of relief as I sank back into my pillows. "Thank God." My eyes fell shut for a minute as I laid there in silence, still tracing back through the whole ordeal. I could see it all now in my head, remembering myself attacking the wraith, charging him over and over in a blind rage and -

...Oh no... Éowyn.

As soon as it hit me, my chest tightened, a deep grief settling on my heart as I remembered what had driven me to attack in the first place. The terror in her eyes, her scream of pain as the last of her life was wrung out of her... I opened my eyes, wanting to be rid of the haunting image, but now I was all too aware of the heavy silence that had settled across the room. Slowly, I turned my head to look at him, utterly at a loss for words. "Éomer, I... I'm sorry..."

His eyes were downcast, staring blankly at the floor amidst a sullen expression, and in that moment it seemed like he'd aged fifty years in the span of a day. Although I could tell he was fighting to maintain his composure, dark circles and bloodshot eyes betrayed him, telling of an exhaustion and brokenness that had shattered him. When he spoke, it was quiet, brow knotted in confusion and pain. "...Why was she there?" he whispered. "She was not meant to be there, she was to return to Edoras, where... where she would lead our people, where she would've been safe..." Now he lifted his gaze to look at me. "...Why was she there?"

At first I could say nothing, only stare helplessly back at him. "...She wanted to fight," I finally answered, my own voice heavy. "Alongside everyone else." I paused, glancing down to my lap. "I knew it was what she wanted, and when she asked me to ride with her, I said yes, but..." ...But it wasn't supposed to end like this. Guilt began to pool in my stomach as I thought about all the times I'd encouraged her to pursue her warrior's heart.

As I spoke, however, Éomer's frown deepened. "...You knew of this?" But then something in his eyes darkened, now fixed on me intently. "And you let her go?"

"What else was I to do?" I looked back at him, shaking my head. "You and I both know there's nothing I could've said that would've convinced her to stay behind."

"So you did nothing?" Éomer bristled. "You let her ride out on a whim?"

"It's all she ever wanted, Éomer," I said. "To ride out with the rest of us; a chance to prove herself-"

"And look where that got her!" he suddenly snapped, eyes sparking with a dangerous anger. "Look what's become of that now! You let her follow you into battle, and now she's gone!"

The words stung, and I drew back, swallowing against the growing lump in my throat. "I didn't know what would happen!"

"But you did nothing!" Éomer's fists clenched, his words shaking. "You could've stopped her, Kathryn! You could've stopped her from riding out! But you didn't! And now she's gone!"

"You think I don't wish she'd made it?!" I cried. "I didn't want to lose her, either!"

"Do not speak to me of your loss in this!"

"She was my best friend, Éomer-"

"She was my SISTER!"

The roar stunned me into silence as it burst from him, and I froze, fearful for half a second he'd swing at me. His nostrils flared with harsh breaths, teeth bared like an animal in a nasty snarl, but his eyes told an entirely different story - one of anguish and confusion, and a sorrow deeper than anything I could understand as they grew glassy. Éomer blinked, trying to force it all back, but the anger in his face soon crumpled as he looked at me, grief sweeping over him in its place. "...She was my sister..." he said again, voice cracking. "...My sister, and I didn't... I never even knew until..."

I said nothing, holding back my own tears as Éomer finally broke and wept. All I could remember then was the moment I'd turned at her scream, when I'd seen her face and realized it was too late... I might have been able to save her, I realized, if I'd been quicker, but... I wasn't. And now Éowyn is dead. I closed my eyes, feeling tears slip down my face as I laid there, unmoving. "...I'm sorry," I whispered again. Neither of us said anything more for some time, both lost in our own hurt, and I felt my guilt deepen in a way that was all too familiar by now. Again, I had failed to protect someone I loved from the Enemy. Again and again and again. "...I should've saved her," I muttered, biting my lip. "I should've, but I - I didn't reach her in time."

But Éomer's voice tore me from my thoughts again. "...No." I opened my eyes to see him shaking his head, wiping halfheartedly at his face. "No, I... Kathryn, it was not your fault. I should never have accused you of - " He stopped short, looking up to meet my gaze. "...Forgive me."

"It's okay," I assured him. "This is a lot for you, I know, it's... it's hard." I paused, eyes falling to the blankets. "I still wish I would've saved her." Beside me, Éomer sighed, and I reached out with my good arm to wrap my hand around one of his own. I gave it a comforting squeeze, and together we sat there in silence for awhile longer, just to process it all. Everything felt so overwhelming, and I tilted my head back to look up at the ceiling again, trying to pull my thoughts elsewhere. The first thing that came to mind was Erin, and I briefly wondered if she was awake yet. If she knew I was here, or that I was even alive at all... the last thing I remembered seeing was her terrified face as she knelt over me, desperate to get help. God, she's going to kill me for this.

But then another face surfaced in my mind, and immediately I felt my stomach drop, all thoughts of Erin vanishing in the blink of an eye. My head snapped back to Éomer, who was still staring at the floor, and I hesitated, a horrible dread already building in my chest. "...Éomer?" He didn't move. "...Where is Kaia?" Silence, and I felt my heart crack, the lack of an answer enough on its own. I sat up a little straighter, feeling hollow, and it took all I had to force the words out. "Éomer." I stared him down, voice low and fragile. "Tell me what happened to her."

It seemed like a lifetime passed before he shifted in his seat, looking up at me again to solemnly confirm the horrific truth I'd already known, but never wanted to hear all the same. "...Kaia did not survive the battle."

-Legolas-

The night air was still and cool as I stood beneath the boughs of a young tree, leaning back against its trunk and relishing in the silence of the gardens. My eyes were shut against the rest of the world as I felt the tree's spirit against my own, drinking in its warm, soothing essence and allowing it to calm my heart. I had only just woken from an embarrassingly long slumber after finally being pried from Erin's room sometime past dawn, the healers insisting I return to my own chambers to rest. Reluctantly, I had done so, and upon waking immediately made to return to my post, but an elderly healer had planted herself in the doorway and refused to let me pass, rambling on about 'wearing myself thin' or some other nonsense. Not interested in arguing with a small, snappy old woman for hours on end, I had finally turned and left in search of a quiet place to clear my mind, eventually reaching the Gardens of Minas Tirith and settling there.

And here I had been now, for some stretch of time, the surrounding nature calming my nerves in ways no other force of man could. The trees here were young, and different than most others I had encountered in my lifetime, holding a certain naivete from a life surrounded by stone walls. But they were vibrant and full of energy nonetheless, and I felt more at ease among them than I had elsewhere in a very long time. There was no sound save for the soft chirping of crickets that reached even my ears, and for a moment it felt as if I had stepped out of Minas Tirith entirely. A welcome respite.

Just then, however, I sensed movement nearby, recognizing the sound of footsteps in the grass, and opened my eyes to see a familiar form appear from further off. I glanced only briefly at Aragorn as he approached without a word, knowing where he had come from without needing to ask. He had been tasked with many responsibilities since the battle's end, and it had worn on him, I could see it. He seemed trapped in a state of permanent exhaustion, even now as he came to stand beside me and quietly drew his pipe. I said nothing at first, unwilling to ruin the silence of the night as he lit it and drew a long breath, but as the first of the smoke was expelled into the air, the question finally came forth. "What has been decided for her?"

Aragorn sighed, staring ahead into the darkness with a wearied gaze. "...We will burn what remains, and bury the ashes here in the gardens." He paused, faltering slightly as he spoke. "I would have buried her whole, in the crypts with honor - I wanted to, but... the damage was too great, she..." Words failed, and he shook his head. "Kathryn said it was for the best."

"You are honoring her memory nonetheless," I assured him. "She would not ask anything beyond that."

"I know, but... she deserves so much more." He took another long drag on his pipe, and as smoke lazily drifted upwards, I felt a deep pity in my heart for Aragorn. In all our years of friendship, it had been rare to see such grief take hold of him, the burden of Kaia's death weighing on him more than most others I had seen. It had been so painfully abrupt, and I wondered if Aragorn had been granted any time to properly mourn her at all before being swept into the aftermath of battle. My gaze fell to the grass, a hollowness in my chest as I recalled the sight of the Fell Beast bearing down on her. It still did not feel entirely real.

"...I spoke with Kathryn today."

The statement drew me from my thoughts with some amount of shock, my sights immediately returning to the ranger. "She survived?"

Aragorn nodded. "She awoke earlier today." But his gaze was distant now, barely centered in the present moment as he swallowed, almost appearing entranced. "...I went to tend to her wounds, and told her of Kaia's death, but she... she said she had already known of it, before it had even come to pass." He paused. "...She said Kaia had been the one to tell her."

At that, I stilled. "What?"

"Kathryn said Kaia told her everything," he explained, "the night we rode from Dunharrow into the mountain. She said Kaia looked into the Mirror of Galadriel, and... and she saw glimpses of the future... of my future." Something within him shifted, and his words softened. "...She saw me crowned King... saw the realm of Men brought together in unity and peace... and my son..." Another pause. "And then saw me on the battlefield, the Witch-King of Angmar bearing down on me, set to destroy me - to destroy that future. And Kaia saw herself, standing between us... saw herself die so that I might live." Finally, he turned to look at me, pain, grief, and utter disbelief all coalescing into one. "...She knew, Legolas. She swore to protect me, and knew all this time..."

I could only stare at him, rendered speechless as he revealed the truth of it all. ...It was all predestined? "...How can that be possible? She..." My words trailed off into nothing, unfinished as my mind swam, reeling from the sudden news.

"She laid down everything," Aragorn muttered. "...For me."

"And for the future of Men," I realized, slowly beginning to understand. "For peace and prosperity, under your rule." My gaze turned outwards to the gardens once more, a somberness settling over my heart now. And she told no one. She accepted her fate and bore her choice in silence, to the bitter end. As I thought on it further, a new question rose in my mind, and I hesitated, almost afraid to ask. "...Does Erin know of this?"

Aragorn shook his head. "I do not know," he answered. "I imagine we will find out once she wakes." It fell silent for a moment before he spoke again. "How is she?"

I sighed. "Not much had changed when last I saw her. The healers tell me she will be alright, but..." I could not help but chuckle dryly to myself. "I doubt my fears will be dissuaded until I see her rise as her normal self again."

I felt Aragorn glance towards me, though not in amusement. "You still care for her."

The faint judgement lacing his words was not lost on me, and I straightened. "Yes."

"How?" Now he turned to look at me with a bewildered expression. "How could you harbor any sentiment towards her, after all she's done?"

I refused to meet his gaze, looking instead to the stars cast above. "She is more than just one mistake, Aragorn."

Still, I could sense a faint anger lingering in him. "Perhaps. But it is not so easy to forgive a mistake that cost someone's life."

"No," I agreed. "It is not. But she has suffered for it more than you know, and regrets it more and more every day." Again, my thoughts fell to all she had done since then. And her heart has changed for it. But then I looked back to Aragorn, wondering how much truth he knew - or how much he did not. "Do you know why she despised him so much?"

To my great surprise, Aragorn nodded, shifting slightly and drawing more from his pipe. "She revealed everything to me at Helm's Deep," he said, "from the first moment they ever met in Rivendell." His eyes dimmed as more smoke disappeared into the air. "...Apparently I knew less of Elladan's character than I once thought."

"It does not justify what she did," I replied, my mind tracing back over the mess of it all. "But neither were his hands entirely clean."

Again, Aragorn shook his head. "Still... he was like a brother to me, Legolas. You cannot ask me to simply forget that."

"I do not," I said. "I know you never could." For a moment, my gaze fell away, words quieting to little more than a whisper. "...But you know how much she meant to me as well, Aragorn. Beyond any other..." I looked up, holding his gaze in utter sincerity. "You cannot ask me to simply forget that, either." A few seconds longer, and I turned away again, suddenly unable to tear my thoughts away from the woman who lie unconscious in the citadel far behind us. Again, I felt a pull on my heart to return to her, foolish though it was, and remembered my revelation on the balcony just a day prior. Barely a moment had passed since then where I had not thought of it, felt it pressing on my heart and swelling to fill my entire being. It had been circling my mind incessantly, desperate to be voiced, and yet somehow I could not bring myself to do it. Somehow, that would make it real. Yet I knew it as real already. Truer than anything. It felt... right, in every sense of the word.

From beside me, Aragorn watched me with a curious eye, the air between us falling deathly silent once again. Even the crickets had grown fainter now, with only the slightest breeze stirring the stillness of the night. And then Aragorn's voice broke it all, cutting through the silence like a razor sharp knife as the question fell from his lips. "...Do you love her?"

A/N: Ok so I know I already had one blurb before the beginning of this chapter, but I would be remiss if I didn't give a MASSIVE shout-out to an amazing reader by the name of Sarah who left a review on the last chapter that literally moved me so much and made my entire day. I am so beyond flattered, honored, and humbled that CD has impacted you in such a way - like, for real, I can't even tell you how happy reading your review made me, especially since you've been around since the old days when this series was chock full of outdated meme references and cringey dialogue. But in all sincerity: people like you are what motivate me to keep going with these chapters, so thank you. Even if you end up not liking these new versions as much, honestly, I'm still glad the original draft left such an impression on you all the same.

Next chapter will (hopefully) come soon! I'm determined to get this done before I move in August I swear to God