I am so so so so so so sorry that it has been so long. Shoutout to YAVANNA for giving me the push I needed to get back on the horse. I keep getting caught up in college and not giving myself any time to do what I enjoy. So here's what I enjoy doing. I hope you enjoy it as well. So sorry again. Your forgiveness would be much obliged.

Chapter Eleven

Following my brutally honest encounter with Boromir I begged Eldacar to change my shifts from the day time when Boromir would be in the Houses to the night when no one was there, but the sleeping patients. It had been a very long time since I had felt so low or since I had dwelled on my awful past in Bree in so much. It was all I could think of. That and Boromir's shocked face when I told him the terrible truth.

Months passed and I didn't see him. There had been a glimmer of hope that I carried with me for a while that he would overcome my past and seek me out, but I was foolish to think so. The Steward-Prince of Gondor deserved someone whole and pure and I just simply wasn't.

For a while I considered relocating once more. I wasn't sure I could live in Minas Tirith and watch Boromir rule the White City and marry another woman. However, I couldn't leave. The war was finally about to reach its climax and, hopefully, soon be over. I had been informed that the dark armies were marching towards Gondor. From what I understood if no one came to Gondor's aid the prospects were not good.

I continued to work at night and stayed to myself during the day, sleeping and doing things around my house. I waited, for what I didn't know. It could be that I was waiting for the war to reach us in Gondor or that I was waiting foolishly for Boromir. Whatever I was waiting for though I could feel that I was about to fall over the cliff.

I was right. The armies reached Gondor shortly after the news spread that they were moving towards the White City. Early one morning as I was walking to my house from the Houses I could hear the sound of marching and clanging of metal beating on metal. I ran up to the top wall so I could see out onto the field. What I saw made my heart stop. Thousands upon thousands of men and orcs were moving toward us. The magnitude of the enemy was much too strong for the small Gondoran defense.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry but you need to get down into the city," someone behind me said gently. It was the leader of the archers. He stood in front of a small company of men all holding their bows. I needed and went back down to my level of the city.

Those poor brave men. They knew it was not a fight they could win yet they still stood resolutely to defend their city and their people until their dying breaths. My heart went out to them and to all of the people of the White City. What would they do when the enemy flooded the city as everyone knew they would happen? What would they do to protect themselves and their loved ones?

I could not think about it and so I busied myself in my house, performing mind numbing tasks until I could think of nothing else but sweeping the floor and wiping the surfaces with the cool rag in my hand.

-ooooOoooo-

A couple of weeks passed and I was spending all of my time at the Houses as was every other healer. The battles had begun and soldiers were being brought into us in a constant stream. I was faced with some of the most gruesome injuries I had ever faced. Up until then the worst injury I had ever dealt with had been Boromir's. The rest of my experience came from common injuries, ailments, and childbirth.

There were soldiers who had limbs missing and wounds that went all the way through the trunks of their bodies. I had never been repulsed by my job, but to hear the screaming and anguished cries made my stomachs turn over. I wanted to die every time I had to turn someone's request for more pain medicine down. We were simply running out and if it was not in the case of someone dying then the medicine simply couldn't be spared.

One night when the battle of Pelennor Field was in the enemy's hands the Houses were broken into by the dark Easterling men. There was a rush to move the patients to the back rooms and out of the way. I wasn't sure what the point was seeing as we had no defense. The enemy could kill all of us whether we were in the front rooms or in the back.

I snatched a medicinal knife off one of the tables to attempt to defend myself. In that moment I didn't see the folly. What was I supposed to do to defend myself? I was a healer. I had never in my life wielded a weapon. My talents were for curing people not killing them. In that moment though I did not think of those things. I only thought of my urge to not die then.

I was pulled back into reality when I looked over to see Eldacar struggling with one of the dark men. The terrible, wicked man shoved his sword all the way through my teacher and friend. I yelled out and it was then that they took notice of me. I couldn't care. I tried to run to Eldacar as he fell to the ground gasping and clutching his abdomen, the blood spilling over his fingers.

The men grabbed me and were jeering at me even as I yelled and tears blurred my vision. I watched my mentor take his last breath. His dedication was immense to give his life for his patients. I had never known such an immense feeling as that. However, I wasn't allowed to linger on said feeling as the men, three of them left in the Houses, began pulling at my dress and my hair. I was stuck there was nothing I could do. No one had heard my yells.

The top of my dress was shredded and my corset exposed. Rough hands grasped my breasts and pulled my skirt up. I was quickly and roughly forced to the ground. The men were speaking and laughing to each other in their coarse language as I was pinned. Just as I was about to close my eyes and let them get on with it I was almost impaled with a sword that had gone straight through the stomach of my main attacker. The man keeled over and the other two leapt to their feet leaving me to their own devices.

I scurried to a corner of the room and found my knife again. I was transfixed for a moment on the sight before me. It was Boromir who had saved me. As I stood and watched him fight I realized I had never seen anything quite like it. He was a warrior, born and bred. There was no emotion on his face even as he cut the first man down as though he were a blade of grass. He was stoic and intense. The only thing that wasn't statuesque was the flame that burned in his eyes. The pure rage that could only be seen in his eyes scorched over me for the briefest of seconds.

He was having a more difficult time with the second man, perhaps because they were both so enraged at that point. I gripped my knife in my hand and without thinking ran behind the man and plunged the knife into his neck. He stood for a moment in shock, crumpling a minute later.

Boromir and I just stared at each other for a moment. There was a lot of shouting outside the Houses. I could feel blood dripping down my arm and I wasn't sure when the injury had occurred. Neither of us said a word to each other. I don't think either of us knew what to see. There was too much chaos and I was still in shock from all that I had seen.

Boromir turned on his heel and ran back outside into the frays of the battle. I closed the heavy doors and tried to barricade them. Afterwards I crouched in a corner of the room. I had killed a man. Who was I? Would everyone take such drastic measures in such a situation? I was not a killer. I couldn't be a killer I was a healer.

My hands shook along with the rest of my body. The knife I still gripped tightly in my hand fell to the ground with a clatter that to me seemed louder than the battle outside. I looked at the tiny steel weapon and the dripping blood on the blade made my stomach churn. I desperately tried to find a bucket and retched and retched until there was nothing left in my body. I collapsed onto the ground and must have passed out.

Days later? Hours later? I knew not. I only heard the heavy door scraping open against everything I had set against it. I prepared myself to die. There was no one left to save me. I didn't move a muscle, not out of fear, but out of exhaustion and apathy towards my current situation.

"Lindy?" Someone called. There was a pause and then, "Lindy!" Heavy footfalls came toward me and I was hauled into someone's lap. I looked into Boromir's steel grey eyes. They were no longer hot with rage.

"It's over," he said gently. His large hand stroked my unbound hair as he cradled me to him. I would have never thought it possible to forget the things I had seen, but I did in his arms. He scooped me up and got to his feet. "We've won."

He walked into the street. Everything was chaotic that no one took any notice of the Steward-Prince holding an irrelevant woman and walking through the city. I must have dozed off again. The injured in the streets were too much for me to bear at that point on top of everything else.

The next think I knew I was being placed in my own bed in my own house. I opened my eyes to see Boromir reach for my skirt and instinctively, after what had passed with the Easterling men, struggled away from him.

"I mean you no harm, Lindy. I only mean to bind your wound." He tore the hem of my skirt away and then tore it in two halves. One he dipped in the basin of water and washed the dried blood from arm and the other he tied tightly around my bicep to staunch the bleeding.

"I'll be back later. I must assess the damage to the city and to the people." He straightened up and headed for the door. He stopped just short of it with his hand on the knob. "Lindy, I'm so glad you're alright. I was terrified that you wouldn't be." And with that he walked out and shut the door softly behind him.

There you have it. I hope it was at least somewhat worth the wait. If you're not holding a grudge about how long it took to post I would love your reviews. If you are holding a grudge I understand.

Happy reading,

Avonmora