Reminder:: Using Tolkien's things again~!

Thank you for the three people who voted on my poll! n_n I love to hear reader's opinions because after all, this story is written for you. Good to know what you want out of it.

This is very strange writing this chapter considering it's somewhat Christmas-like. It's nearly June and Christmas is the last thing on my mind. xD Hope I got down what I wanted to at least and it's entertaining enough to read. Well, at least it was May when I started this. Now it's July! Dx This actually became so long that I decided to split it into six parts. One for each day of Yule. Yay!

And just to make a note: Yes, I know that Yuletide is a Shire holiday and in Rohan they celebrate midwinter as well but in a different way, but I am not sure of the way Gondor celebrates midwinter if they do at all. Therefore, in the name of creative justice, I have taken it upon myself to give the Shire holiday to Gondor. Hopefully I can make things work in a believable way. =)

EDIT:: I forgot my page dividers! Oh, how could I forsaken my dear, eye-saving lines? Well, it has been remedied. n_n Next chapter is in progress and should be up within the week if I keep it up. =3

Chapter Eighteen :: Merry Yuletide
The First Day of Yuletide

"Up, up, up! Get up, you lazy girl!"

"Grah…"

"Do I have to pull the covers from you? I'll open the window and you'll catch cold…"

"Go away, Stephanie…"

"What are you talking about, child? Get out of bed. Finwen!"

My eyes flew open and I groggily sat up. I looked about the room, thoroughly confused and sure that I had a dream but not sure what it was at all. I could not remember.

"What did you say, dear? Was it a name?" Ioreth sat on the edge of my bed, looking on with interest. "Did you remember something?"

I shook my head. "I… rosemary. Is there any rosemary?"

Ioreth sighed. "I wish there was, dear, I wish there was. Sadly, you're not the only one in need of rosemary. Believe me; I haven't given up the search for the herb (such a common one, it's proved to be frustrating) for not only you have a need for it in the city. Apparently its tea is in high demand… Well! Today's the day!"

"Day? What day?" I rubbed my eyes.

Ioreth flung the curtain open and placed her hands on her hips. "Why, it's Yule Tide tomorrow! It's the only thing that you've been able to talk about for the last week and a half… By Nienna's tears… Really, child, I don't think you are as sickly as naturally forgetful."

I rolled my eyes and stood. Time for a bath.

Yule Tide, I soon learned, was an event that lasted six days. Ioreth described all the days as being the same: food, speeches, music, story-telling, and dancing. The last day was the most important though. The feast would be the largest and it was traditional to give gifts. I had no idea what I would do about the latter though…

"Well, since the Steward invited you, you simply must get something for him—"

"But what do I have to give?" I asked, feeling crest fallen. "I can't go if I don't have anything to give…"

"Normally, those who attend give gifts that relate personally to them…" Ioreth added, not making me feel much better. "But that's rarely done anymore and people simply give others new or homemade things... Oh, I know! Why don't you arrange flowers?"

"Flowers?" I sighed. "…If I have no other option, I suppose it's the best idea."

"Either that, or you could embroider—"

"So, what flowers should I use?"

By noon, I had made a few lovely bouquets using seasonal flowers. Ioreth and I went out to pick them fresh and then went back to the Houses to arrange them as we liked. We used Poinsettias, Crocus in the Snow, Amaryllis, Kaffir Lilies, Squill, and my personal favorite: Witch Hazel. The Crocus in the Snow and Witch Hazel added much needed, bright yellow to the mostly red mix of flowers we had and the lovely Squill added a touch of baby blue. With some green leaves from the plants, the arrangements were very lovely and I would be proud to give them away.

Ioreth looked over the bouquets we made and smiled. "So, which is going to whom? I think that one looks the best, so we'll be giving that to the Lord Denethor…" She quickly sided one away from the rest. There were still three more.

"This one will go to the Warden of the Houses." I put a second one aside.

"Two more, dear. Why did we make so many…?"

I shrugged. I adjusted the petals of one of the Kaffir Lilies and suddenly smiled. Satisfied with it, I moved it towards Ioreth. "And this one is for my good friend, Ioreth!"

"Oh! My… That's such a waste… I…" Flustered, she shifted her feet and fiddled with the petals of the flowers. "I… No, I couldn't… I'm not worth the time… I-"

"Please, Ioreth. I would like you to have one. Brighten up your room." I said. "You've been such a friend to me when I didn't deserve one – quite foreign to the city. I still am. I want you to know I am grateful for all the things you've done for me. You are like…" I thought for the particular word, hoping I was using it right. "Mother."

Gasping and clutching her heart, Ioreth teared up and gave me a tight hug. "What a dear! Oh, of course I'll accept it, lovely! Absolutely lovely!"

She let me go and still sniffled a bit, wiping at her eyes with her apron and fondly stroking her bouquet. "But what will you do with the last one? We can't exactly let it go to waste, now can we?"

I nodded in agreement and mulled it over. "What if… Ioreth, may I simply carry them around…? I could simply hand out flowers to those I speak to – until they run out. Is that improper?"

She seemed to think it odd at first and 'no' tempted her tongue for a few moments before she shook her head decisively. "I don't see the harm… Why not? Go ahead, dear. I think it's cute!"

'Cute' wasn't the word I was looking for, but I was glad all the same.

Nearing the time of the feast, Ioreth was busily finishing the touches on the dress she was making for me. It was a completely new dress but it was much more complex than usual. For every day of the festival, I would need a new dress. Every day. Good thing Ioreth started sewing early… But the task was too huge for even her to tackle, so I was doing quite a bit of work myself. I found the needle vexing and more than once, I pierced my thumb to bleed. In the end, Ioreth wrapped cloth around my war-wounded fingers and gave me the simplest of things to sew. I harnessed the main body together while she added details, decorations, did all the hemming, and fixed of all my mistakes. It was obvious she was much better at this.

A few herbalists and maid-servants local to the Houses of Healing snooped enough to find our task and purpose and found it more than intriguing. Women and girls crowded my little room and littered the hallways sewing my Yule Tide gowns under Ioreth's careful, inspecting eye. Everyone was ecstatic to have the chance to impress the Steward Denethor. It seemed to me that our quiet companionship was… Well, quiet. But apparently Ioreth had been doing some talking around. One young girl asked me if I was his illegitimate daughter! What has that woman been saying to provoke such foolish mockery? I hardly want to know.

But the extra help the girls afforded had my dresses ready or in the making. Not only were my dresses worked on, but girls showed up with their own supplies for their gowns to work with company. It was soon a party before the party. My first three dresses were soon finished - gorgeous creations leaning precariously in my wardrobe so as not to wrinkle. Eventually, Ioreth was so paranoid as to actually have girls hold them up until stands could be improvised about the room for them to keep them as fresh as possible. Yule Tide (and the Steward) seemed to be more important to these people than I thought.

My day four dress was just coming together under Ioreth's loud instruction when yet another interesting development took place. Upon the entrance of palace guards (who I was in no disappointment to discover were my good friends from my window sill) to my quarters, women all jumped and fussed that something was wrong and even insinuated that they were in need of protection. Trying not to laugh at the tomfoolery, Mordred did the honors of telling us personally from the Steward Denethor that he was recently informed of my 'living conditions' and he insisted that I be moved to a larger quarter but remain in the Houses until the return of my memory.

A rather kind gesture, but it caused more hassle than it was worth. Of course, there was the added excitement that I would get a larger room (happy happy joy joy) but the entire dress-making production had to be moved three floors up (Yay, I have more stairs to climb every day; I'm so privileged) and a bodice piece went missing in the process and it took another few, testy hours to find that it was brought up with everything else after all.

I was quite impressed with the room the longer I lingered. I had three windows now with billowing curtains and a terrace to step out to a small, railed balcony. My bed doubled in size and my wardrobe had plenty of safe room for the new dresses. I was given a looking-glass and even a new desk to write letters. Of course, I would have to find someone to write to first…

The women and girls who were so graciously helping me put on the finishing touches had no further need to litter the hallways and could all fit comfortably in my new room. After being fit and measured for the last time, I walked out on the balcony for a quick breath of air, taking my dreaded embroidery along with me that would soon decorate my fifth party dress.

I found that I would not be alone in the winter chill as a girl my junior rested in a wire chair, hemming away at some skirts. I casually walked out and looked down at the familiar alley, at this angle quite obscure to me. I could see the same stand and doorway where the man and his dog lingered and the alley where the children always played over to the left. I couldn't see their faces as clearly anymore and so I was a little disappointed my people watching wasn't going to be as interesting, but to my delight, I could clearly see the guard tower and it was much closer than it had been before now that I was slightly higher than it.

My short reveling over, I turned and drew another chair from close inside next to the fair haired girl. "May I sit beside you?"

"Lady Finwen? Why, of course!" She smiled sweetly and gave me the desired spot. I sat next to her and brought out my needle. I was still a little flustered that she had termed me as 'lady'.

I cleared my throat and voiced my trouble. "Why is it that you call me lady? I am no nobler than you, if not your inferior…"

"Oh, no." She shook her head. "It's true that my father is of the court, but he's no real power. My name is Taurwen, named after the forest which my mother so loves."

"See, you've said it now yourself!"

"On the contrary, my lady, I wouldn't dare. Anyone in the Steward's high regard is a queen among the courts!"

I posed the question I had been hesitating to ask to the girl. "Is there any reason he is called a steward? Is he not your king?"

Taurwen looked up sharply at me and shook her head. "Oh, no, he is not our king. Not at all."

"Then… doesn't Gondor have a king?"

"Yes… and no." She sighed. "It's rather complicated. I suppose you're lucky you asked me because many people are very… sensitive to the subject in the city… but I'm not the best informant you can find. Everyone knows that the king has long been lost and the steward holds the throne in his absence, but I honestly don't know much more than that. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize; I should. I'm sorry I brought up the subject… But thank you in any case. I would like to learn more about this city—"

"Taurwen? Where have you gone, child? I need those skirts!" Ioreth's shrill voice trilled out to us from my room.

"That's my cue." Taurwen smiled and rose. "Nice meeting you… formally that is."

"Likewise!" I smiled back and watched her leave. A few moments later, Ioreth came out to collect me. She grumbled how my work was slow so she took over and walked as she did so, leading me to try on the recently finished fifth dress.

The next morning, I woke up bright and early in my new room under my heavy blankets. Warm and unwilling to move, I laid in bed staring at the ceiling. When I thought Ioreth would come in and scold me, I swung my legs out of bed, nudging Huan in the process. He was enjoying the new found space and ignored me, grunting and rolling over as I left him behind to sleep. My bare feet touched the stone floor and I instantly recoiled from the icy touch. Slowly, I descended and hurried across the short distance to my slippers that I had left across the room. I threw a heavy shawl over my shoulders and carefully stepped out on the balcony.

Winter, as expected, was cold, but there was a chill in the air I could not place. I leaned against the cold railing and turned my head about so I could face the east. Dark clouds, darker than any thunderstorm I had ever seen, loomed high above the jagged mountain ranged. I could see my breath in the air and felt the same, very chill in my bones I had felt crossing the Brown Lands. So many eyes… staring… What were they looking for? Will they ever close?

I hugged my shoulders and rubbed, trying to ebb the cold away. A harsh wind blew, echoing throughout the city and I turned away.

Ioreth bade me farewell half a dozen times that morning and another two while walking down the stairs. She was still arranging the flowers in my hair when we were at the entrance to the houses. The girls who had helped me with my dresses the previous day were preparing themselves this morning for the celebrations beginning soon.

Waiting at the door felt like forever. I couldn't honestly remember if I told Ioreth that Mordred would be my escort or not, but I wasn't planning on spilling the beans now. What if she didn't approve? Besides, it wasn't a big deal, right? What could possibly go wrong? Oh, wait… Bad things always happen to people who think that! Stop thinking that, Finwen, stop it! Think of something else! Yes! Um… Like… The curtains! No, that's silly… Oh, I wish Mordred would just get here soon so I can think about something else. What was I thinking about again? Why am I so ridiculously nervous?

"You look lovely, dear." Ioreth stood back and observed me like an artist over a completed canvas. She dived forward one last time and adjusted a lock of my blonde hair and stepped back again. "Ah! There. Now give me a twirl."

I circled about, my long green dress wrapping about my ankles. There were brown embroidered vines winding throughout the dress' design on the forest green background and white and gold flowers sprung from the tips like cherry blossom. I had a red flower in my hair that was styled very little but for a braid that wrapped around like a headband. My hair was trimmed, but Ioreth said that although she thought I looked wild with my hair at my waist, she grew to like it in its own Rohirrim way. Pointedly, I reminded her that I was of Eorlingas to which she replied: "Yes, you certainly are. Stubborn as one in the very least. You must be."

I smirked and a rap on the door had me rushing like a child to open it. I hurried forward, touched my hair once more and unintentionally set my flower askew, and pulled the door open.

"Oh! Here as the escort to Lord Denethor?" Ioreth smiled at Mordred. He was dressed in his usual guard attire which was dashing, yes, but it confused me none the less. He saw my confusion in my obvious stare.

"Yes." Mordred nodded and bowed. He held out his arm to me and I slipped mine through. I waved to Ioreth who waved back to me and smiled. The door to the Houses of Healing closed and I briskly walked beside Mordred's strong pace.

"Are you on duty?"

"Yes, as sorry as I am to say it. If you haven't noticed, I've been promoted as a palace guard these recent months and I'm still adjusting to the new position."

"So you're not longer a guard to the tower?"

"Oh, yes, and it's the Citadel." He reminded politely.

"Well, a palace guard doesn't sound like much of a promotion to me… It sounds like longer hours, more work, and more hassle."

"But it is!" He insisted. "I mean a promotion. Not only am I an esteemed guard of the Citadel, but now I am also in care of the Steward's life. It is a very honorable position I am quite proud of."

I didn't quite know what to say after that, so we walked quietly for awhile as he led me through the city to the hall where the first day of Yule began. The first day would basically be a lot of noise, and the real celebrations would begin tomorrow. This was meeting and greeting and listening. That was alright though. I could do with some calm after the days of sewing I had to endure.

As we neared the great hall where villagers of all kinds were pouring in, Mordred gave my hand a pat and grinned. "I'm afraid this is as far as I can go with you."

"What? But where are Tristed and Benold? Surely you won't leave me alone?" I asked, feeling my stomach drop. If it was traditional to go to the celebrations with someone, the last thing I wanted to do was insult the tradition by entering alone.

"Of course not. But Tristed and Benold have escorts of their own. No, I must leave you with a very worthy escort, crazy lady." Mordred laughed though he looked disappointed.

"Why… who are you-?"

Mordred clicked his heels and formally bowed before us. To my astonishment, the man I had met in Ithilien: Faramir, stood before me at the entrance to the hall.

Taken off my guard, I hastily made a sloppy bow, too. The flower I had never fixed in my hair slipped out and landed at my feet. It was a deep red Amaryllis flower.

Faramir stooped, picked it up, and stared at it a moment. "You resemble my mother… But I can tell you are very different." Instead of being so bold as placing it back in my hair, he gently handed the flower back to me.

I smiled nervously and hastily wove the flower back in my braid. I bowed as Mordred had done (who was still at my side). "Thank you, Captain Faramir. I wish I knew her."

He nodded and Mordred bowed once more before silently leaving. So much for a goodbye.

"If you have not been informed, I have been given the honor of escorting you to the Yuletide celebrations throughout the week."

Knowingly, I pieced it together as much as I could. I was no fool. Faramir was a busy man and had no time for trifles like myself. He was not here willingly. "By order of your father. You have been recalled from Ithilien?"

Raising an amused eyebrow, Faramir gave his assent. "Yes. I normally do not participate in Yule, but I hope I prove to be not too dry of a companion. The music and lore that is told is the same, but it is comforting, bringing back memories of childhood and should be entertaining enough. I promise not to tether you – if you wish, I will not speak at all."

Shocked, I shook my head. "Oh, no! Heavens, I should be offering such a suggestion to you. I am but a simple country girl – nothing more. Your father has simply taken a liking to me because of reasons you pointed out upon our meeting here a moment ago. No, I have heard the stories. How could I escape them in such a city? I do not know the fate of his late wife, but know my grief is yours. I am quite honored that the Lord Denethor has thought me worthy to accompany his son let alone worthy of the generous comparison to his wife."

Faramir's bright eyes looked sad, but he bowed slightly and offered me his arm. I bowed in response and took his arm as I had Mordred's. Together we entered the hall that was decorated in brambles of all sorts. Well, at least they looked like weeds to me, but it was probably traditional to put such plants with berries and needles about the walls and ceilings. They hung like streamers and merry torches were lit to brighten the atmosphere and ward off the cold outside. Tables and rows of chairs were lined symmetrically across the floor where food had already been laid out for the first feast. The midday sun was slowly leaving as afternoon approached; pouring what little sun there was in the topmost windows casting dusty patches on the walls. Not a corner was shrouded with shadow and at the head of the procession stood a table that was faced horizontal to the rest at the end of the room. The table had chairs for the highest members of Minas Tirith and an empty throne stood in the center, never to be filled. To the right sat Denethor.

Faramir's pace was much slower than Mordred's so I was given the leisure to stare about me as we made our way to the front. With a sinking feeling that was soon followed by a wave of nausea, I realized that the two empty chairs next to Denethor subsequently would seat Faramir and then me. I would have to sit in front of all these people… A nobody without a name… Why did I have to come to this city? All this horrible attention. I'm beginning to hate it.

We reached the front and Faramir and I both bowed respectfully to Denethor. The Lord Denethor looked up at us and smiled pleasantly. He stood and said: "Simply lovely, Finwen. The flower is a nice touch."

I smiled up at him and rose with Faramir. I expected him to greet his son, but instead, he blissfully went on: ignoring him. "Take a seat next to me, Finwen. Yes, right up here."

I did as I was told, but I hesitated to take the seat immediately next to Denethor. I waited for Faramir to take the chair, but Denethor pulled the chair back for me to sit. A little perturbed, I sat and looked to Faramir who was now sitting down next to me. I strangely felt like a wall between them. Keeping peace.

Striking up conversation, Denethor enthusiastically tapped the arm of my chair. "This is where my son usually sits when he is home."

I was about to say something when he cut me off and continued. "But as Boromir is away from home, I give his seat to you, Finwen. When my son returns, I would like very much if you would meet him."

"I… would be honored, Lord Denethor." I nodded. "I'm sure that if the Lord Boromir is anything like his good brother Captain Faramir, I would be delighted to have his company."

Denethor frowned but it disappeared as quickly as it came. "Faramir? Hm… No, he's not like Faramir at all. But yes… Delighted. Very well then. Yes."

Taking a sip of wine, he suddenly turned and greeted another noble to arrive. I am sorry to say I paid little attention to the Prince of Dol Amroth, Imrahil, but at the moment I was less concerned with the now arriving guest than with the obscure way in which Denethor treated his son Faramir. I was obviously missing something but as an outsider looking in, I thought it was rather rude, even deceitful of Denethor to seem to care so little for his youngest.

I glanced at Faramir who was speaking with the man next to him at the table. He seemed to not notice that his father snubbed him. Looking harder though, I could tell he cared. Who wouldn't?

Soon Denethor rose, said a few words of greeting to the entire room, and bade us to feast. Throughout the meal, I couldn't help but look for Mordred among the guards stationed around the room. There were very few and the ones that I could see were immediately behind Denethor. Among the guests, there were too many to place Tristed or Benold either.

I chose my dishes carefully, favoring the sausages that were available, until Denethor laughingly scolded me. "Eat, Finwen, eat! This is a feast. You best hurry before the best dishes are gone." He laughed again and broke off another vine of grapes.

Something in my brain clicked… or was it more of a buzz? For a flash of a second, I saw a woman with blonde hair over… some sort of fire… no, that wasn't it… but there was heat and she was cooking something that smelled like the sausage on my fork. I couldn't hear what she was saying, but I just knew it was something like what Denethor had just said. Suddenly her smile turned into a confused frown and her eyebrows grew larger and furrowed. Her skin aged and her hair became gray with touches of white. The blurred background faded and became the hall and the woman was clearly Denethor now. He was staring at me in confusion. "Finwen? What is the matter?"

"I… I—just…" I touched my temple and looked away, down at my plate. "I think I remembered something… but I don't know what it is."

Interested, Denethor prodded me further. "What did you see? Was it a person? Was it—"

"It was a woman. I do not know her face." I shook my head.

His glare relaxed and his posture became less stiff. "Oh… Well, that's always good news. Perhaps you'll remember yourself soon. Faramir, take Finwen away. She needs some air."

Faramir nodded silently and stood. I backed out of my chair and took his outstretched hand. Side by side, I walked out of the hall with Faramir out into the air. A very large balcony was here but it was empty because everyone else was still enjoying the feast I so rudely cut Faramir from. I leaned against the rail and stared out over the city. Faramir waited politely with his arms relaxed in front of him by the lighted entrance. It was already quite dark outside.

"It's so dark…" I commented, staring at the gloomy sky. "The sun is gone and clouds have moved in, but it cannot be long past sunset."

"The sun has not set yet, my lady." Faramir corrected, walking up from behind and standing next to the rail next to me. "The dark is spreading."

I saw in the east the smoke rising from the scary mountain range I so detested. "It was my first image of this world, waking in a field where dead leaves scattered on the wind and the high mountain range loomed above me. They seemed to always be above me, pounding me down with despair."

I had not realized I had voiced my thoughts aloud until Faramir responded. "You awoke in a field? Curious. I was under the impression that you were born of the Rohirrim. Eorlingas?"

Glad he got the name right, (something I took note to remember since Beleg and Linius took such offense to any other name) I smiled but shook my head. "I have no memories of this world. I will search for them though… I wonder if they are searching for me."

"I am sure they are." Faramir nodded.

"You are kind." I said absent-mindedly. "When I said I would meet your brother, I meant when I said that I hope he is like you."

He wasn't sure what to say to that, and I was being vague and my mind was strange, so I didn't mind. I had bothered him long enough anyways. "Please, if you wish to return to the feast, by all means, leave me be. I can handle myself." I insisted. "Besides, I should return to the table in a few moments."

"Then I will wait."

"…Thank you."

It grew quiet again. Well, obviously with me around, it wasn't going to last for long. "Why does the east have such a dreadful feel? Whenever I look that way, I feel my very heart fail."

"Great evil lies in the east. My mother felt the shadow as you do." Faramir explained, his eyes far off in that direction. "Unspeakable shadow in the realm of the Dark Lord… But his lands have stirred as of late. He is active again. His reach is stretching."

Surprised by the sudden blackness of his tone, I shivered and hugged my shoulders. "I feel eyes… Like I'm being watched. The whole city is watched. Is there no shield from the eyes?"

Faramir shook his head. "Come, no more talk of such things. It is a holiday."

I could not argue, but I felt that something had gone unanswered. I wished to ask him about my suspicions that something was wrong with Denethor, but that was far out of my own business. That would be intruding and that was the last thing I wished to do.

"How do you know these things? Who has the answers? I know I am ignorant and less worldly, but how do you know so much about such dark things? It frightens me."

He looked troubled but not offended at what sounded like an accusation. I thought furiously but could not think of an answer. Really though, how does he know these things? And he alludes that he knows more. What's going on in the world? Something that very few people actually understand… And I believe that Faramir is one of those people. Alatar and Pallando understood. "How I wish I could see them again…"

"Who do you speak of?"

"I said that aloud?" I asked, with a sarcastic grin. "Strange. I feel as if I can't say anything inside my head anymore. I speak of… friends. I knew when I first arrived. They were…"

"You don't believe you can trust me with their identity." Faramir guessed.

It sounded silly really. What harm could come from it? "They appeared as old men cloaked in blue. I met them in Rhûn."

"You know the blue wizards?" Faramir asked openly interested. "How did you come by them? They have been deemed long lost. Mithrandir must hear of this…"

The last sentence he said more to himself and I only barely caught it. "Alatar was the one to find me and bring me to a rebel camp. They were gathered to defy the powers of the East: or so I gathered. They were raided by orcs and I believed that I was the lone survivor." I glanced at Faramir who was mulling this over, chewing on the possibilities. "If you do not believe me, I have a piece of their cloaks. It is tied to my horse… I named him Alatar."

"And you have not seen the wizards since?"

"No."

Finally decided, Faramir nodded. "I was right in what I said when I had first met you. You have a very interesting tale to tell. I wish to hear it sometime, but I fear that today is not that day. It is growing quite late."

I agreed and we left the cold balcony. The feast was slowly winding down and groups were gathering to hear stories told. I was tired and quite ready to turn in. As the party closed for the evening for a few of the attendees, many stayed behind to watch the night rise. Faramir was kind enough to escort me back to the Houses where I said my farewell and thanks. He returned likewise and the first face I saw after I opened the door was Huan's, licking my hands and wagging his tail. He wasn't the only one happy to see me home.

"So how was it? Did you have fun, dear?" Ioreth bounced all around, following me up the stairs to my room.

"Yes, it was very nice." I lied. No, I didn't really have fun. I did a lot of talking about horribly dark things and only ate a few sausages. "But… I am glad I went."

"Of course you're glad you went!" She nearly laughed at me. "Now hop into bed, you've another day of impressing the Steward tomorrow."

I smiled and decided to confide in her. Gossip like this would keep her going for half the year. "Ioreth… May I tell you something?"

"Of course, dear. What is it?" She asked, hanging up my dress and pulling my night gown out. It was still my Houses of Healing garb, really bringing me back down to the reality of where I was.

"Well, I have a question first. What's an escort?"

"An escort? Well… What do you mean?"

"Literally, I mean." I repeated.

"Well, I don't know what you think it is, dear. I always thought it obvious. An escort is simply what it sounds like: someone who takes you to an event of some sort. Why? Did… Did the Steward Denethor set you up with an escort? Was he handsome?"

"Ioreth, calm yourself!" I laughed but was troubled all the same. "But yes…"

"He's handsome?"

"No, I mean yes he did set me up with an escort! Well, of course, he's handsome though. I would never call him otherwise."

"What's this? What aren't you telling me? Keep me in suspense much longer, dear, and I'm going to jump out of my skin!"

"Okay, okay!" I laughed again, harder this time. "It's curious… By order of the Lord Denethor, the Captain of Ithilien has been chosen as my Yuletide escort."

"Oh! Oh, dear, the Lord Faramir? Oh, how wonderful!" Ioreth clasped her hands. She quickly busied herself closing the windows and obtaining hot rocks for my cold bed while she cooed. "He really is handsome; I know I must've told you before. What a kind man! Oh, what a surprise! Dear me!"

"Ioreth, I thought an escort was just as it sounds! Why are you… scaring me?"

"Scaring? Pish posh, child, don't be so ignorant." Ioreth rolled her eyes. "Fine then, I might've not been very clear. An escort usually has romantic intentions. Oh, what a joy! I knew the Lord Denethor favored you. Now he's going to make a daughter of you!"

"What?" I nearly screamed and sat straight up in bed. "What? But I'm not twenty years old! I can't get married!"

Ioreth suddenly turned on me, serious as can be. "What did you say? What did you just say?"

I thought over the sentence and realized how easy it was. "I'm… I'm nineteen years old… Yes… I missed my birthday. Twice! I… I must've…"

"When is your birthday?"

"October the twenty-third." I easily answered. "My birthday is October the twenty-third! I remember, Ioreth, I remember!"

"Thank Vána and her stars!" Ioreth laughed, clapping again and giving me a hug. "With a revelation like this, I suspect it's only a short amount of time until you've remembered everything. Oh, how exciting! And how ridiculous! Nineteen and not married! You're mad if you think you need to be older to marry. You're of perfect age."

After a little more conversation and debate, Ioreth finally settled down (as did I) and finally turned in for the night. There was just one more thing weighing on my mind… who is Mithrandir?