Reminder:: What is Tolkien's is still and ever shall be Tolkien's.

Wow, it has been quite some time since I was last here. Apologies like this are rather empty and excuses don't really matter. All that matters really is that this chapter is finished and up for you to read!

Thank you for sticking with me. This adventure is not over yet!

Chapter Twenty-Four :: Day of Parting

I stood patiently in the small crowd of horses and men. I held the cold silver about my neck somewhat too tightly. The points of the star dug into the chilled skin of my hands. Huan sniffed the ground at my feet.

Ioreth placed a hand on my shoulder in comfort. I did not turn to face her, but I used my spare hand to hold hers. For something that was rather a regular occurrence, I felt rather silly for treating this like such a big deal… I told myself last night I wouldn't cry.

The fourth of January and the Lord Faramir and his men were packing their things to leave. The holiday was over with what little happiness they could scrape together for their wives and families and now it was time to get back to work. Back to the rut and routine of deadly warfare.

Ioreth let me go and I stepped forward. A man with a large pack slung over his shoulder crossed my path and murmured an 'excuse me, Lady Finwen' and a horse nearby neighed as I passed. I paused a moment, taking in some extra cold breath, and approached Faramir.

Tightening the straps on his gauntlets, he caught sight of me and soothed his horse. It didn't really want to leave either.

I tried to speak, but my voice came out cracked. I cleared my throat and spoke over the wind whipping through the cobblestones. "May you have a safe journey… Lord Faramir."

There was a long pause as he continued to adjust random straps on his horse's saddle. A soldier wearing a bright silver helm came up to his captain and asked about supplies. Faramir directed his course and the man was off. All business.

"Osgiliath?" I ventured.

"First. Then I return to Ithilien." He explained shortly.

"I hope to see you before long… May I still write to you?"

The atmosphere becoming significantly warmer, Faramir smiled softly. "Of course, Finwen. I shall gladly accept your letters."

Happy to see a little of the old Faramir back (and secretly relieved that my suspicions seemed false) I nearly laughed with my smile. I wanted to say: 'I'm so glad you're not angry! I thought you somehow were blaming me for yesterday when your inebriated father said I would wed your brother.' Of course, I never dreamed of saying this out loud.

Faramir stared at me thoughtfully for a moment and said: "You find it so easy to smile. That is something to be admired, Finwen. Do not forget that… I hope my brother may make you so easily smile someday."

There was another awkward silence as I contemplated what Boromir looked like let alone his ability to make me smile. "I trust in your swift return." I stated to break the stillness, not wanting to pose it as a question of chance.

Faramir mounted his chestnut colored horse and nodded. "Look after Father. You are a fine sister, Finwen."

And without a promise to see me again or return safely, Faramir rounded his men together and the gate was opened for their departure.

Ioreth was on me in a moment, wanting to get me out of the way. She was muttering silly things like 'catch cold' and 'get trampled', but I barely heard her anyways. Huan had contented himself with sitting next to Ioreth's feet and it was quite a good show trying to get him to follow after me. He was being particularly lazy lately, but I figured that was a result of his mad run through town during Yule.

I was escorted away and Ioreth said waving was impolite so I did not. I looked back through the host of soldiers off to Osgiliath, but I could not possibly see Lord Faramir among them. Besides – he was probably at the front with his lieutenants anyways. I needn't worry about him. He's a fine leader. He will be alright.

Back in the Houses, everything felt very normal. Almost as if Yule had never happened at all. My room was completely vacated. Without the bustle and chatter that occurred during the holiday season, the vastness and clear emptiness of my abode stared me in the face. I walked around a few times, making little laps around the room, and tried to occupy myself with embroidery. That was a terrible idea. I thought about a nap, but I was much too restless. What could I do? How could I make myself useful?

I called for Ioreth, but she was much too busy at the moment to see me. I didn't mind so much – I realized she had plenty to do. The girl who came to answer my call was very young, so she was a little nervous. I volunteered my services in an attempt to aid Ioreth, but the girl insisted the old woman could handle herself. She wasn't a fan of others getting in her way either.

My second plan was to ask the girl if she knew how to write. She replied in the positive, and I confessed my need for a refresher course. She said she was not very good because she rarely had reason to write other than the labels on herbs and medicines and the rare prescription note, but she agreed to help me however she could. The girl never told me her name, but she sat with me for the next hour and taught me as much as she knew about proper writing etiquette and basic spelling.

When she left me alone, I had all the proper supplies to start writing. But… it had not even been a day. What was I supposed to write?

Still, I had the urge to write to Faramir as soon as possible – even if I would never send the letter and it was just to get some of my thoughts on paper… It would at least pass some of the time.

I dipped my quill in the foul smelling ink and flattened my parchment. I began to carefully scratch the letters, taking particular care to spell Faramir's name correctly. How embarrassing if I screwed up with that! Might as well put the quill down now…

Lord Faramir,

I'm terribly sorry if I did not address you correctly. Please send me the proper heading and I can—

What a way to start a letter! Well… it's true. Perhaps I'll just skip over that part and ask Ioreth later. Where's that other girl when I need her…?

Lord Faramir,

It's been barely a day and I cannot find it in myself not to write to you. I—

That was terribly worded! Again.

Lord Faramir,

Minis Tirith—

Spelled it wrong. Stupid! Good thing I have so much parchment…

Lord Faramir,

Perhaps I'm being over-sentimental, but I feel I must write to you immediately. There have been no new developments since you left this morning – what a surprise! but I can assure you that all is well and at peace. Perhaps too peaceful. I find myself bored already. Whatever am I going to do without you around to make me smile?

Minas Tirith is hardly cheerful without you. I thought it may be the lack of music and festivities that just recently bombarded the city during Yuletide, but I have decided that it is the lack of company. I never knew I was this needy. I would not blame you in the least if you sent me a letter in return asking me to stop writing before the next is sent. I promise all my letters will not be like this. That is, of course, if something exciting would happen. Shall I cause some mischief? I might succeed to excite some hysteria in poor Ioreth in the least.

The clouds are looming once again out my window and I cannot forget you are travelling in their direction. When you receive this (if I decide to actually send this trivial piece) you will already be in Osgiliath. Perhaps Ithilien! Tell me about the waterfalls there if you have the time. I barely saw them once, and I have heard that a certain fall sparkles in hues of all the gems in the earth. If only I could see it! Perhaps I could be of more help in Ithilien than I am here. Are you in need of a nurse? A maid? Ioreth may strangle me if she ever read this. I can hear her now telling me how un-ladylike I am. I have so much to learn.

Stay safe and kill many orcs. I love to hear tell of their destruction – in a completely acceptable lady-like fashion of course.

Finwen

I looked over the letter once, twice, re-wrote the entire thing in my neatest handwriting, and stuffed it in the drawer of my writing table. It would probably never see the light of day again.

I let out a sigh and looked out over the balcony. The wind picked up again and howled through the thick curtains, blowing them back and whipping them about the walls.

It felt… cold.