Reminder:: For Eru's sake, I still don't own any of this stuff if you recognize it. Curse this disclaimer! Dx

Well, it's a week later and here's the next chapter. I hope things are piecing together for you, if you can figure this out that is. My mind made this plotline pretty twisted up, so sorry if you're still confused. Faramir will lead you out of the dark soon. =3

Chapter Nineteen :: Merry Yuletide
The Second Day of Yuletide

Cheaply painted walls. Colorful posters. Hard, plastic seats. Sticky tables. Low quality food. I reached out, watching my own hand grab another fry, and suddenly turned to look around me.

There was a boy with spiked brown hair directly in front of me, facing my direction and sloppily eating a burger. Mustard dribbled down his chin and the girl next to him rolled her eyes and handed him a small white paper napkin. Her light hair screamed of inexpensive dye and her mascara told me she was never taught the proper way to apply it. Her cell phone was tightly clutched in her left hand, always open and receiving messages. She idly tapped the keyboard, barely watching as she threw her head back laughing at what the girl next to me said. This girl had a deep color of brown fashioned into a sloppy mop atop her head. Freckles were scattered on her nose along with a generous amount of eye make-up, much like the fake blonde's. She was shaking with laughter and her nose was crinkled and her eyes half-moons. She took a sip from the straw in front of her and looked in my direction. She smiled without braces and gave me a playful nudge.

All at once, I could hear sound at the once mute scene. Screeching, scratching, and cracking like I had never heard before. The sound only agonized metal and tree branches could make. A scream from a break pedal erupted as the teens at the table in the McDonald's restaurant carried on without noticing. Piercing cries rang; I could match each of the screams to the happy, laughing faces in front of me.

Warm tears spilled from my eyes, realizing these young people were all going to die. Die in fire and metal. Ashes to ashes; dust to dust. Dead and gone. So young… So young… They're so young… We're all so young…

I reached out to them, trying to touch their heated flesh. I needed to know they were alive. My hands passed through them as shadow. First the boy, then the blonde, then the brunette all went up in smoke before my eyes, laughing silently and enjoying each other's company. Petrified, I touched my own face. My blood was cold.

The strange dream I had haunted my memory. The second day of Yuletide, I was pacing around my room. The hot rocks Ioreth had warmed for me had grown cool in the night, but still had a bit of smolder left in them. It was too early in the morning for sunrise and my slippered feet paced back and forth like a caged lioness.

What could the dream mean? I honestly, did not remember these people, but I did at the same time. Like they were imaginary friends of mine when I was young… But their clothes! They were atrocious and the scenery didn't make any sense to me. They were eating food I did not know the names of and they were in a place far past my level of reasoning to be in. What had my mind imagined?

Perturbed, I strode out to the balcony and leaned out against the railing. The same, dark, dampening chill of the eastern clouds could be felt and even seen in the stillness of time before sunrise. Flames and curls of smoke rose from behind the foreboding mountains, beckoning me. Calling to me…

From the very depths of my consciousness, I listened in disbelief. The cold marble beneath my hands told me I was awake and the dreaming sleepiness had ceased quite some time ago. My heart stilled. The voice was real.

Sarah… Sarah… Sarah…

The deep whisper wracked my bones and sent a nasty chill up my spine, claiming whatever courage I ever had. With a cry that sounded more like a soft wail of despair, I quickly turned away from the outside world and hid within my room until light when Ioreth entered.

"Dear, child! You look ghastly." She commented upon her expected arrival, carrying a breakfast tray for the both of us.

I stopped stroking Huan for comfort hours ago, but he was still resting close by my side as I sat straight up in bed, my knees tucked close to my body. My eyes bored into the wardrobe in front of the bed, memorizing the woodwork and carving patterns, hearing the strange voice in my mind over and over again, trying to understand what all of this meant.

Ioreth's voice brought me somewhat to my senses and as I tried to remember the voice, I could no longer recall what it sounded like lest what it said to me. I was warmed by her presence as she stood before me and held my ice cold hand. She was saying words to me, but I could not hear her. I was too busy trying to recall what I had heard. Suddenly my fear of the voice became an obsessive need. I wanted to hear it again. I suddenly knew it said something important, but upon said realization, I could not remember what it was.

"Finwen! You're not well!" Finally broke through my barrier and I sharply turned my head to her. She was rubbing my wrists and quickly trying to prepare some food to be brought to me. "You shouldn't go out today – I'm sure everyone will understand."

"No." I shook my head slowly. I suddenly felt the urge to hide my thoughts and I forced a steady smile. "No, no, I'm alright, Ioreth. Thank you – I was just dreaming."

"With your waking eyes? No, you need to rest—"

"Please, Ioreth. I just… had a nightmare." I think…

Sitting down on my bed, she kept hold of my hand and asked with concern, furrowing her already wrinkled forehead with interest. "What was it, dear? Would you like to talk about it?"

"I'm fine. I think it had something to do with my past." I answered, trying to sound excited.

"Oh? Well, then do tell. I find that the more one tries to forget things, the more one forgets unintentionally. So? Let's hear it!"

I felt uncomfortable and decided to lie. I told Ioreth I remembered a house with horses, thoroughly describing Beleg and Linius' house in the process. She continued to nod and ask for more details, astonished at how much I remembered from my 'dream'. When I had finished describing the house, she looked surprised.

"That's it? Nothing else?"

"Yes. That was all." I nodded. To cover my tracks, I tacked on: "I was just so shocked at how much I could remember. So suddenly… First my birthday yesterday and now my home?"

"This is a wonderful sign!" Ioreth decided, standing and fixing her grey lopsided bun. With her brilliant blue eyes, she turned back to me after inspecting my wardrobe and brought out today's dress. "You keep dwelling – it'll do you good. But for the rest of us, in the meantime, put this on. You have a Steward to impress."

Glad she trusted my health enough to go, I nodded, gave Huan a pat, and hurried up from bed.

This day was much like the last. The only thing that seemed to change was the clothing and general appearance of the people. Everything else was the same: the food, the atmosphere, even some of the songs and stories. My dress was a dark brown with white skirts underneath and cuffs and collar. It was a very plain dress that I thought made me look like a burnt cookie, but Ioreth said she didn't know what a 'cookie' was supposed to be and shoved me out the door where the Lord Faramir was waiting to escort me this day. Once again disturbed at knowing something that was out of the ordinary but as simple as a cookie, I walked alongside Faramir as he was called about to meet and greet at Denethor's request.

I could feel the Lord Denethor's eyes on me wherever I went with Faramir. I curtsied and answered questions like a good girl as Faramir performed his regular prince-like duties and spoke with people of higher standing. It really wasn't all that bad, and more than once, a wife or daughter would make my acquaintance and keep me entertained while their male companion chatted away with mine. Halfway through the day's party, I was surprised to see Taurwen out of the corner of my eye. I watched her, trying to grab her attention, but she was wrapped up talking avidly with the person next to her. My eyes bulging from my head, I watched as her escort requested a dance and she and Tristed took to the floor. Well! Good for him! The tall one found a pretty girl. I'll have to tease him the next time I see him…

Realizing what I was teasing him for, I uncomfortably looked at my own escort. Was I supposed to make goo-goo eyes like little Taurwen was? How preposterous! Is this what Denethor set me up for in the first place? What an escort really meant? I discreetly looked behind me where the Steward was sitting and saw he was laughing raucously about something. His frown quickly returned though and he barked out something and a guard fled to carry out the order. No… It sounds so silly. I could hardly picture the man in the chair over there tearing into a leg of mutton to be a matchmaker for his son. Although, that sounded pretty sneaky… Very Denethor-like, in a strange, twisted way. I looked back at Faramir and couldn't piece it together. My thoughtful, contemplative stare was interrupted when I realized that someone was talking to me.

"Finwen? What say you?" Faramir asked.

"I… I…" I began, looking frantically from Faramir to the man in front of us. Only now did I realize that this was the Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth. The man I had seen yesterday and so charmingly ignored with my own selfish thoughts. And here I was doing it again.

Reiterating, Prince Imrahil took no offense and asked: "I was given the opportunity of meeting your mount. Alatar is a very interesting name for a horse, might I intrude. If you ride him often, I recommend the fields of South Rammas and Harlond where there is much room to explore. Of course, I also recommend an escort if you plan to travel – never should a lady ride alone."

Rattled by the reminder of 'escort' I genially nodded and answered. "Alatar must be growing quite restless. I'm afraid I haven't taken him out in quite some time. I haven't been the best horse-master, have I?"

"As I have heard, you have been in the Houses of Healing, so all is understood. Are you feeling any better since you arrived?" He asked politely.

I nodded, only half-lying really, and said: "Yes. The people in the Houses and the city alike are very hospitable and kind."

"What a generous compliment." Faramir chuckled, almost with sarcasm.

"Taken with all due respect." Imrahil out-shined him in charm and smiled at me. "I hope for your speedy release."

"Taken with all due respect." I smiled back, curtsying as he nodded to the both of us and went off to make rounds of his own. Once he was out of earshot, I looked to Faramir shiftily. "Did I detect a hint of biting sarcasm?"

"You read me too well, Lady Finwen." He commented without emotion. "But I am also quite literate in faces. Something very dark is bothering you. Come, this way, please."

The please was completely unnecessary since I was required to do whatever he asked, but I took it gladly. Arm in arm, Faramir led me from the hall and finally deposited me on the same balcony from the day before. I stood stock still and waited as he went up to the railing and looked out.

"Aren't you going to join me?" He asked after a few moments. Feeling a little silly, I gave him a pointless nod that he couldn't see with his back turned and stood beside him.

Almost absent-mindedly, Faramir looked out over his city and commented: "You seem so uneducated in such simple things…"

Rather insulted, I frowned, but he continued: "It makes one wonder exactly what it was that happened to you so that you don't recall elementary etiquette. I feel as though it is my fault somehow—"

"Well, that's silly." I interjected, proving my lack of etiquette and leaned my elbows on the stone. "I don't see how you have anything to do with my personal, ridiculous issues, so I wouldn't worry my head about it if I were you."

"Ridiculous? Curious word."

Quite forwardly, I spoke up again: "Why do you always speak in riddles?"

Grinning for one of the first times I had seen, Faramir replied: "Must be Mithrandir speaking for me. I admit that I've associated with him more of late."

"Who is Mithrandir?"

"He is also known as Gandalf. He is one of the wizards who journey this land."

"How many wizards are there?"

"Apparently there are five now that could still be alive. The rest, if any, are lost in the ages."

"Who are the other two?"

Giving me a sideways glance, I instantly knew I was asking too many questions. I meekly apologized for bothering him, but he took it lightly and continued to educate me about what he knew of the wizards.

Faramir told me what he knew of Mithrandir and from the little he told me, I gathered he was very wise and knowledgeable about the world. He was cloaked in cloth of grey, somehow his appointed color, and he travelled mostly in the northern regions and lingered with Halflings, elves, and men alike. By the time he was finished, I was most excited to meet this wizard if I ever got the chance. Apparently, he had not seen Faramir for quite some time though and so my chances were slim. Faramir knew little of the other two wizards, only the names Saruman and Radagast. He knew no other name for them and knew not what to say on their behalf. All he could say was that Saruman was the white wizard, the appointed leader of the Wizard Council. I explained to him equally what I knew about Alatar and Pallando that I had not said yesterday, but it was disappointing I did not know enough that it would make it exciting to tell. He reminded me that I knew more than apparently anyone else, so that was more than the rest of Middle-Earth. I reluctantly agreed and asked him to tell me a little more about the Wizard Council which he didn't know much about anyways. It all seemed a bit over my head, but now that he had me talking fluently and asking and answering questions, he took advantage of the moment to counter attack.

"Now for the purpose of this out of doors visit." He began nonchalantly. "I'm afraid I am not as slow of a people reader as you think, Lady Finwen. What is it that is troubling your mind? You are not dwelling on the East are you?"

I shook my head quickly, feeling the tight bun atop my head and surrounding braid waver, but then nodded slowly. I looked in that direction and felt that same chill from the early hours this same day. Without even realizing what I was saying, I spoke freely to the Lord Faramir. "I feel so drawn… but all the same, I feel so cold. I feel as if the land holds my answers, but it also holds my doom. I cannot explain the icy stab I feel whenever I look in that area of the compass… How can a landscape affect me so?"

"My mother was weakened and in that hour of weakness, the black shadow entered her heart. She never recovered. I deem it unwise for you to think too deeply into these things, Finwen. It is more dangerous and harmful than you think. It does not do you good. If you are to remember the past, you are not to linger. How can you ever expect a reasonable future if you spend your present dreaming back?"

"You are very wise… And I trust your words." I pried my eyes away from the reddened sky to rest on Faramir's face. I smiled. "I am glad you are in my confidence."

Faramir nodded respectfully and waited for me to continue. I didn't know that I was going to continue, but his silence persuaded me to tell him about my dream, not the one I told Ioreth, but the one that frightened me. I described to him the people in the best way I could and how I knew they were all dead and how my own flesh was frozen. The sounds were hard to describe, but he seemed to get the gist of what I was trying to relay, and when I was finished, he thought for quite a long time without saying anything in response.

Finally, Faramir murmured from his statue-like position watching the city and surrounding fields: "I would like very much to hear your story, Finwen. It grows late yet again, but perhaps tomorrow you can tell me everything you remember from the point you met the blue wizards until the moment you arrived in Ithilien. Besides enlightening me to a few things, I feel that recalling these things will also help your own memory. You seem reluctant to share these things and I completely understand if you do not wish to speak to me of them. If anything, speak to Ioreth. She is good. Talking should do you good. Now! I'm afraid we must return to the abyss known as Yuletide. Will you accompany me?"

Letting out a laugh, I hooked arms with him and allowed him to lead me back inside.

Denethor's steady gaze did not falter as Finwen and Faramir travelled about the hall. She was doing quite a good job for someone so inexperienced. She seemed so flawless to Denethor. Not only was she beautiful in his eyes, but she was quite clever and she knew when to hold her tongue. It was rather refreshing. Quite a difference from the other candidates he had mulled over for Boromir. No, no one but Finwen would satisfy him for his son now.

"Where is the wine? Should there be any reason that my cup is not filled to the brim?" He asked rather harshly. An empty wine goblet always put him in a bad mood like so many other things in this irritating world. A nearby palace guard, one he had recently promoted to his service as he recalled, replied in the affirmative and went to carry out the deed of searching for more of the brew. Good lad.

The two in the Steward's attention exited the hall and Denethor was forced to remember other things. He had resorted back to using the palantir and did not like what he saw at all. He had not seen anything about Finwen and was quite glad. He was ready to let her off the hook long ago. Hell, he was saving her for his eldest son to marry! No, Finwen was quite out of the palantir. Other dark shapes took form, ravaging his city and devouring the courage of his men. The people quaked in fear under the rising armies of Mordor. Every time he would visit the palantir, Denethor would see more scenes of this horrible bloodshed – the massacre of the last establishment of Men in the West. And where was Rohan? Theoden has been too quiet these days of late… It not only worried Denethor, but it also irritated him. Like so many other things in this world. Except Finwen of course. She seemed to be the only one with sanity left. Odd how the girl with memory problems is the only sane one… Perhaps it makes her mind clearer. In any case, he rather missed her company. After this Yuletide business, he'll have to reacquaint with her in the White Hall. Those were good, long days. She listened to whatever it was he had to say… Did she suspect what he intended for her with Boromir? Most likely. She would have to be rather daft not to recognize it by now with all the boasting Denethor had done in these recent weeks…

Ah, his son! Returning home any day now. That's a reason to celebrate!

Looking around, Denethor's blissful smile faded. "Where is that bloody wine?"