Reminder:: Sorry to disappoint: I'm not the owner of The Lord of the Rings franchise. Would be very nice though… Alas, this is a fictional work for personal and public laughs and giggles.

Last day of Yuletide! I'm almost sad to see it end – not. xP Been writing about Christmas at all the wrong times of the year! Trying to embrace the warmth the weather is clinging to as it turns to autumn and I'm humming along to frosty air here. Icky! Can't wait to move on, so expect another speedy-ish update. =D Hey, life happens to us all, right? Been having one lately, so I've been a bit slower than I would have liked.

You'll notice that I mention a certain flower quite a bit in this chapter. I couldn't help it – it's one of my favorites. n_n'

Chapter Twenty-Three :: Merry Yuletide
The Sixth Day of Yuletide

Huan had nearly knocked me from the bed this morning, stretching out and taking half of the blankets as well. I crawled out of the bed onto the floor and just laid there against the cold for a few minutes, not ready to start the day.

Eventually, I pried myself up and got to work scrubbing myself down. Hot water seemed to be hard to come by as of late, so I was forced to bathe in ice water. At least it wasn't actually frozen solid – so it must've been lukewarm at some point.

Wrapping myself in a thick robe, I shooed Huan out of bed and let him out my door. From there, he would probably take care of his business in the garden – the door was left open now because the Warden was sick of finding 'Huan' everywhere. I pulled the blankets tight and fluffed the pillow. My room looking like no one lived there; I decided that I had made it as clean as possible. That's one thing I wish I had – possessions. It felt like I was always taking and borrowing. It drove me mad.

Slippered and warm, I stepped out onto the balcony and watched the people in the streets far below walking down side streets and carting goods down the cobblestone path. Children hugged stuffed toys and wooden swords clanged against everything in sight (with an audible crash of porcelain every now and again). This was the day gifts were distributed. Odd, how easily I had forgotten… or is it?

Sick of interrogating myself, I peered around to the small tower of the Citadel. Shielding the early sun poking through the clouds from my eyes with a hand, I leaned and was disappointed to see that I had missed my guard friends yet again. I was half-expecting Benold in the least, but it was good they were on holiday. I should be happy for them.

While peering around the side of the balcony, I noticed a fluttering petal in the harsh breeze. A small white flower was growing on a dirty ledge, probably an off-shoot of the nearby gardens.

I walked as far along the balcony as I could go and leaned to see further. A whole patch of the flowers were growing just within arm's reach… Remembering my bouquets, I thought they might make a lovely addition. I reached out with my right hand and could not get near enough. Trying with my left arm, it was still to no avail. Hm. No wonder. Arms are generally the same length, Finwen. Dolt.

Gently biting my lip, I took off my slippers and propped myself up on the railing. Straddling across, I attempted to reach the flowers again.

"Just… a bit…" Closer… I let out a huff in defeat as I drew away. Looking at the railing, I mentally positioned myself at a more precarious angle and determined it would work. Putting my plan into action, I threw my other leg across the rail. Holding on with my right hand behind me to the rail and standing just outside of it on the stone gingerbread, I reached out with my left hand again.

"FINWEN!"

Nearly falling to my death, I yelped and snagged a flower just before I let myself go. I whirled around and clung to the railing, petrified with my heart beating rapidly in my ears and stomach in my mouth.

"What are you doing?" Ioreth fumed, hurrying to my aide.

"Just… flowers!" I breathed, holding up the small white flower I had managed to steal away.

Rolling her eyes, Ioreth helped bring me back over the railing onto safer ground. "Nearly gave me an attack, you did!"

"Tell me about it…" I muttered, holding my heart and walking briskly to the wash basin.

"And in your night robe, too! Does it ever occur to you that you are dressed indecently? You can't be seen cavorting about your balcony with naught but a robe on!"

Washing the slight trauma from my face, I patted down with a small towel and turned to face the old woman. She was tapping her foot, hands on her hips, steaming like an old vegetable. I couldn't help but smile at her comedic position. Her frown remained, wiping the smirk from my face.

"Ioreth…"

"Don't give me that. Silly flower… Silly girl!"

Feeling only the slightest bit ashamed, I murmured my apology. The subject was forthwith dropped until I held up the flower to her. "What's its name?"

Abruptly taking it from me, she examined the petals and leaves. "Oh, it's just a Camellia Sasanqua! What a stupidly common flower to risk your life for."

What a fancy name for a common plant… Catching it before she dropped it to the floor, I defended my actions. "But does it grow only in high places? In certain soils?"

"Heavens, no! That weed grows anywhere dirt is." She quipped. "Now! Since you've managed to ruin the morning's atmosphere of surprise with your little balcony stunt, I shall now bestow upon you my Yuletide gift…"

"Oh, Ioreth, you shouldn't—"

Stepping out into the hall, she quickly re-entered with the most beautiful dress I had ever seen that shut me up quick. Blacker than night, the dress flowed long with a short train. The sleeves were long and narrow, ending at the wrist with a small triangle that hooked to the middle finger of each hand to keep it in place. The neck was heart-shaped with a tight corset (oh, my favorite), but the most glorious contrast to the black was the white and silver stitching throughout the piece. The White Tree of Gondor was elaborately embroidered to the bodice with a crown of seven stars. There was a star on each triangle at the wrist and white-silver thread bordered every edge.

I had no arguments putting on the dress today, even the corset was enough to handle if it meant I would fit into the dress. In fact, I did more thanking and hugging with an excess of happy, inane babble than any real talking all morning.

There was no room for flowers in my hair this day – instead, I would just wear my hair plain and down. I didn't think it did the dress justice, but Ioreth insisted there was nothing to be done with my hair. Together we left for the storage room where we kept the flower arrangements we had made on the first day to preserve them. We had to keep Huan away as he followed us down the steps because we soon found his fur clung to my dress like glue.

Looking over the arrangements, I stopped short. "Ioreth? I know I gave you one to keep as for the Warden as well, but there is only the one here. I remember two."

"Oh, the one for the Lord Denethor was sent off this morning. You're welcome." Ioreth waved it off, picking up the bouquet from its vase and drying the dripping stems.

"Oh…" Slightly disappointed, I kind of wanted to see his face when he received it. To know he liked it and was pleased. Oh, well; too late for that.

"Here you are! Ready, dear?" Ioreth looked me over.

"Oh! In a moment!" I nodded. Flowers in hand, cradled like a baby, I ran up the flights of stairs to my room. I had left the small Camellia Sasanqua on the dressing table. Tucking it safely into the rest of the buds and stems, I hurried back down the stairs, trying not to get the dress all sweaty and still be prompt. It's a rare combination.

Ioreth and the ever watchful Warden of the Houses were waiting by the front door as usual. Since it was still closed, I smiled. "Am I early for once since the first day?"

"It appears to be so." The old man smiled. The Warden cleared his throat and opened the door. "But alas, the Lord Faramir seems to have beaten you to the quick."

"Have you been waiting out there long?" I asked sadly.

"Not but a moment. The weather is excellent today, Lady Finwen. Come – and a Merry Yuletide to you and all those in the Houses." He addressed the Warden.

"Thank you, my lord. To you and yours as well."

"Oh! And Merry Yuletide, Lord Faramir." I found the Camellia Sasanqua in the mixture and stepped up to him. I quickly curtsied and held out the flower.

Slightly taken aback, Faramir accepted the flower. He examined it for a moment, looked as if he did not know what to do with it, and decided to simply hold it. Downcast, I realized that that would be the reaction I would see all day.

I could see at a glance that Ioreth was furious I gave the Steward's son her proclaimed weed. I liked it though, so I didn't really care. Actually, seeing her just the slightest bit irritable always seemed to cheer me up.

Faramir smiled at the gift and we soon left. Walking up the street, I realized he was still staring at it. Carefully, I said: "Does it mean something?"

'Snapping out of it' (as it were) Faramir gave me a questioning look. "What was that, my lady?"

"The flower – the Camellia Sasanqua, correct? Does it mean something in Gondor? Did I offer you my condolences or, or propose or something?"

Laughing, the Lord Faramir shook his head. "No, you misunderstand, fair Finwen. It is a lovely gift… Though I cannot think what to offer in return. I had completely misplaced this tradition of the holiday."

"Oh, is that all? Heavens; don't mind me. I'm just worried about following the rules. Besides, I've asked enough of you as of late – consider this minor gesture a sort of 'thank you' instead, if you must."

We arrived in the feasting hall to a terribly loud uproar. Trying to see through the crowd, I realized that this last day indeed was the most significant day of Yuletide. If I had thought the third day was rowdy, this was wild in comparison. People laughed hard and pints of alcohol were passed around out of doors. People danced to no music and ran into each other, eating food as they walked. Faramir carefully led me through the bustle to the inner feasting hall. Here the atmosphere was toned down a good notch. It was obvious this was the 'nobility' of the city. Sitting proper in their chairs being served their drinks and entrées in courses. The noise from outside was still apparent in here, but everything was much calmer. I couldn't help but notice the garland I had seen on the first day was browning with age and needles from the pines dropped every now and again on an unsuspecting party guest.

Looking around now, I felt rather disgusted. Were these people 'above' the celebration? I would much have rather been left outside with the commoners who knew how to have a good time.

Faramir seemed to read my thoughts by my face, a slightly annoying attribute of his: people reading, and said: "Sometimes I find it's more enjoyable to be at peace."

I honestly couldn't disagree, so I nodded and smiled. Walking up the aisles of tables, we stopped in front of Lord Denethor as we had done every day. One of the bouquets Ioreth and I had prepared was placed next to his plates of food. "Finwen! I have received your gift." He smiled, nodding to the vase.

I bowed ceremoniously and he continued: "And a lovely gift it is at that. I gladly accept. Bring forth the Lady Finwen's gift."

"B-but my lord…" I began, taken off guard as one of the guards (most likely Mordred) hurried to retrieve something. "My new room…?"

"A well-deserved but dull gift." Lord Denethor waved it away. The man returned (Mordred after all) with a small box. Denethor motioned with his hand to give it to me.

I nervously looked at Faramir whose face could tell me nothing. He released me from his side by taking a pace backwards and I took a few steps forward to meet Mordred.

With the helm over his face, I could barely tell it was him at all, minus the strong chin. Opening the box for me, I peered inside and let a small gasp escape my mouth. A thin silver chain held a bright star-shaped pendant with seven points.

I stared at it for a moment like a dumbfounded fool before I realized I was supposed to take it. Lifting it carefully, it seemed to glitter from the surrounding day and torch-light. "It's beautiful…"

"Specially made." Denethor boasted. "Put it on; let's see it. Help her."

Without needing a formal address but still knowing the order was directed at him, Faramir strode up from behind me and took the necklace. Holding the flowers, I couldn't do much. Faramir put the chain over my head as steadily as he could and with my extra hand, I freed my hair from underneath.

"A picture of beauty!" Denethor complimented as Faramir stepped back again. "The star of the White Tower. Lady of Minas Tirith."

Blushing madly with embarrassment – he said the last few sentences rather loud – I smiled to him, curtsied, and took my place at the table.

Feasting was the main priority of this day. It being the last, any food that had not satisfied before was simply gorged on this day. There was a strange sense of urgency because once tomorrow would come; the glassy bliss we had all entertained for these past six days would melt away under the shadow. The real world with its real dangers would suddenly return with the sunrise. Minas Tirith would be trapped in regularity again as if nothing had ever happened that was merry or bright. We would forget the happiness come the morrow. So soon…

I felt sad, poking at my food, but I came to realize that this happiness was being wasted on such despairing thoughts. So I encouraged myself to smile and laugh and soak in as much of the positive attitude that I so craved while I could. But only too late did I realize what the end of Yuletide would mean and my heart dropped.

If I had learned anything over the course of the holiday, I had found a steadfast friend in the Lord Faramir. He knew my story practically inside and out… Why had I never heard his? Feeling selfish and stupid, I let my face fall for a few moments as I soaked in the reality of my foolishness. I had a sudden desire to learn everything about him – right now while I still could. It was his turn to talk, and I wanted to listen.

After a hearty speech of welcome from Denethor, and a few mediocre ballads, I was given my chance. I had patiently waited and eaten my food and answered when spoken to for what felt like the entirety of the day, but was really but a few passing hours of the sun. It was nearly midday.

The urgency of the atmosphere felt mimicked in my own actions as I quickly turned to the Lord Faramir in a pause and said: "Would you mind if I had a word with you?"

Without saying anything, Faramir left his seat and helped me from mine. Arm in arm, we walked casually from the hall (I have to admit, I was trying to pace us quicker). Our balcony was rather crowded today, but when I was at a loss for what to do, Faramir continued to walk and I simply followed. He led me through and around the crowd to a much calmer plateau where two staircases joined together to reach a different level of the seven-tiered city.

Turning to me in a nonchalant way, he inclined his head and asked: "A word?"

"Honestly, I feel rather silly about all of this, but… All week I've been talking non-stop about myself. Won't you tell me something about yourself? Who are you? How did you grow up? How did you come to where you stand? I am fully aware I am being far too bold and radically brash for a girl my age, but I feel I… know nothing of who I thought was my closest friend."

Seemingly unsurprised at my rapid outburst, Faramir faced the open air and I stepped up beside him at the rail. "Attempting to remedy a guilty conscience?"

I knew the accusation was skin deep, so I took it so and shrugged it off. "Perhaps. Or perhaps I've… grown quite fond of you. And if you refuse to tell me anything about yourself, I demand you tell me something of the Lord Boromir in the least – although you would disappoint me." If he wasn't surprised at my candor, I certainly was. What was coming out of my mouth? Where was this confidence coming from?

"He is a fine man." Faramir began with a sideways smirk. "Boromir… is more than you could ever ask for. You should consider yourself fortunate."

Trying to read his face, I judged him to be partially sincere. He could tell I was waiting for him to continue though, so he took a deep breath.

"I'm afraid there isn't much to the man before you, Lady Finwen. A spare, my mother passed when I was a boy and I grew to follow in Boromir's steps. There are no secrets – no wild tales to tell."

"You don't do yourself justice. You cannot be as simple as that." I prompted. "Start here: 'One time in Ithilien when I was hunting orcs…'"

Chuckling, Faramir collected himself. "As you wish, Lady."

And to my amusement, he told me a story about a time when he found a rag-tag orc company marching through the ruined wood and how his men slew them all in a moment's time. For someone so 'simple', he really was quite a good storyteller. Faramir would throw himself back into the action as if he was there again, and he would experience the same emotions – of course nothing over done, but enough so I could feel it, too. He relayed to me the exciting details, but he kept in mind that I was a 'lady' and kept some things toned down. Even though I had seen war before, he disregarded the fact and treated me like an innocent who was only interested in adventure. He was such a gentleman.

I smiled and listened and asked questions and managed to wheedle out some of his own thoughts and circumstances amidst the action. For two or three hours (it felt at the most), he told me stories and I loved every minute of it. It was probably the most fun I had had from the entirety of Yuletide.

"—before, we could never have reached the vale before the Grey Wood without skirmish." Lord Faramir let out a sigh, allowing me to believe his tale was at an end.

I watched the setting sun for a moment before I too let out a sigh. "It saddens me to think I could have heard so much more all this time. I imagine you must return to Ithilien or Osgiliath soon?"

"At the closing ceremony." Faramir agreed. "Arrangements have been made to take a small company out to Osgiliath at sunrise."

"So soon?" I feigned surprise. I should have known he would leave immediately after Yuletide, but sunrise on the following morn seemed a bit ridiculous to me.

Before I could let him reply, a sudden thought struck me. Looking for a flaw, I quickly asked: "May I write to you? That is – when you leave? I'm going to miss not having anyone to talk to… You don't need to reply to me either if you don't want to. But may I? For the comfort?"

About to say yes, Faramir looked skeptical. "You would write frequently?"

"Of course! I could have your supplier carry my letters for you. It'll be great fun, I promise! Oh, please, Lord Faramir? I promise not to bother you too often."

Smiling softly, Faramir shook his head. "You cannot 'bother' me, Finwen."

Taking that as confirmation, I smiled wide and was about to give him a hug when I remembered that whole 'propriety' thing and controlled myself. Not knowing what to do, I bowed my head to him. I would have to learn from Ioreth how to write again (I was a bit rusty since Linius taught me) and I was sure she would tell me if I was using the proper etiquette when addressing someone like the Lord Faramir.

As if right on cue to cover my awkward excitement, a guard of the Citadel rounded the corner and saluted to Faramir. "My lord and lady. The Steward Denethor wishes to see you back in the hall immediately."

Short, sweet, and to the point; we did not argue and left the staircase. From standing around for so long without much movement, my legs felt wobbly and stiff as we walked briskly back. Nothing could bring me down though – I finally had something to look forward to.

The moment we entered the feast hall, I saw that Denethor was standing rather askew. From the distance, I could tell he was tipsy bordering on drunk. Frowning to Faramir, I released myself from his arm and hurried up the aisle.

Denethor caught sight of me, and I had to admit – he looked happier than I had seen him in quite awhile. I knew Mordred shouldn't have opened that keg…

"And there she is! The lady of the hour!" Denethor introduced me in a loud voice. It was the same voice he used in his speeches, so the people celebrating immediately thought he was about to say something important. I rather wished they would go back to their loud buzzing hum of conversation. The near dead silence was much worse.

"Star of the White Tower – Lady Finwen! Come here, child, up here." He motioned me forward. My shoes were the only sound in the hall at the moment as I climbed the steps and bowed in front of Denethor at his supper table.

Spreading his arms wide, Denethor smiled down at me. "I would like to congratulate this young woman as she has my blessing. I am proud to soon call her a daughter of mine – betrothed to my eldest son, Boromir! Huzzah!"

What a dreadful way to announce such a thing.

Stopping dead in my tracks, my mind spun as the nobility grudgingly cheered and politely clapped. They knew I was a peasant girl and that was enough. Now I was to marry their highest ranking young man. Honestly, I was surprised that I hadn't been assassinated yet.

Somehow, I had managed to walk around the table and stand at Denethor's side. He leaned on the table, catching himself with one hand, before I intervened and caught his left arm. I lowered him into his seat as things slowly returned to normal. Everything felt as if it was in slow motion and there was a loud ringing in my ears. My face felt hot with embarrassment, but at the same time, I felt so numb to everything that was going on. All the meager suspicions I had, all those petty jokes were actually real. For some reason, it had never actually clicked in my mind what it meant to be engaged to someone I had never met before. Now it was official and staring me in the face. And I had no idea what to do.

Looking up for a face of comfort and familiarity, Faramir was no longer where I had left him at the door. He was gone.