Reminder:: Nope. I refuse.

So I'm still working! Almost there…? Ah, in my dreams. xD

I guess I forgot to mention a little experience I've had with sleep-walking (thank you iheartanime07 for inadvertently reminding me!) that is somewhat vital to what I have written. I'm a big sleep-walker. I've played video games when I'm asleep. xD But more importantly, I have woken up in places I'd never imagine; more specifically: my basement in the dark, inside a cardboard box, and outside on my porch. So I decided to give Finwen this slightly creepy/interesting trait. Hope that explains her feat a little more with the realistic angle I've given. Now! Without further ado—

Chapter Twenty-Six :: Rosemary and Time

I did not remember my walk. Let alone my rescue… The only vivid memory I had was my nightmare. The war happening around me, being thoroughly alone, and Faramir seemingly dead. But it was not my last.

For the next few days, I was in and out of consciousness. When I went to sleep, I had many nightmares. They were all the same. There would be a white room, a field, a battle, death, fire – repeat. Ioreth was worried I would sleep-walk again, so she had me temporarily moved to my old room. Or at least it looked very much like it. I was exhausted from what little restless sleep I got, so I slept as much as I could.

Huan was by my side during this dark time that stretched the course of weeks into the beginnings of a chilly February. He snuggled up right against me and would lay his head on my stomach while I tried to sleep. When I would wake up crying, I could pat his head and know I was awake and everything was alright… Huan was my best friend.

I had watched him sink during my time in Minas Tirith. He missed roaming about. The grass, the trees, the horses – he was a farmer's dog. The city was boring and regular and nothing like what he was used to or what he deserved. But I was the only company he knew, and he was willing to follow me wherever I might go. Until the end.

I awoke from a vicious nightmare again as Ioreth was coming in with a cup of tea. I could smell it from where I lay and wrinkled my nose with displeasure.

"Up, up, up!" She said, carrying the tray. She placed it across my legs, shooing Huan aside. "Sit up dear; I have a treat for you. Smell this tea."

"I can smell it from here, thank you." I covered my nose.

"Do you know what this is?" She prompted.

"Not particularly. I've never smelt this before. What is it?"

Smiling, Ioreth bounced up and down a little on the bed. "We've found it! Well, actually my sister found it."

"You have a sister?"

"She lives elsewhere in Imloth Melui – we barely keep in touch. The point is, she was in Lebennin travelling where she found this. It's rosemary."

I sat up straighter, more willing to drink the foul tea. "Rosemary? You mean—"

"It's not a miracle-worker, dear." Ioreth warned. "But it's the best I can come up with to improve your memory. At any rate, it should improve your recent condition. Now drink up! I'll bring the whole pot in and you can work on it throughout the day."

She left the room and Huan crawled back into position after I had moved the tray. The liquid was near completely clear with a hint of greenish yellow along the outside of the cup. Leaves that looked like thick pine needles rested on the surface of the water. Although I felt I wouldn't like the taste, it at least smelled… very clean.

I took a wary sip and my tongue tingled. I took a larger gulp and felt my throat react with an unpleasant burn. I coughed and downed the rest of the hot cup, slightly scalding the insides of my mouth.

Ioreth didn't return immediately, so I got up from bed. Huan didn't bother leaving the bed, so I didn't bother him and covered him with my blanket. I went to the writing table and spread out a new parchment. At least I had something to tell the Lord Faramir now.

Lord Faramir,

I have learned quite a good bit about myself this week. For instance, did you know that I sleepwalk? Apparently, I do so quite well. Ioreth fears I may put myself in danger, so I have been moved to a different room. She is wary of my balcony.

There have been sleepless nights and nightmares and all else in between, but I cannot imagine what you must be going through. I hope Ioreth may teach me to knit. Then I could sew blankets for you and your men. At least I would feel like I was doing something with my time that way…

I have not been permitted to see the Steward. He has not called for me and at the moment, Ioreth feels that I am in no condition to see him. She worries though; all is well. I am not ill.

Still, I feel even what I have written is not much to write about anyways. Perhaps I'll make up some ludicrous story about thieves and orcs and mischief. It would be entirely fictitious of course, but it would at least put a smile to your face and spark some interest. These letters of mine are awfully dry.

Until something interesting happens,

Finwen

The letter wasn't very satisfying, so I planned on storing it away like my other letter. I opened the drawer where my last letter was and found it was missing. The drawer was empty.

Ioreth entered with her pot of tea and I immediately got to questioning her. She had to remind me that I was not in my old room, and so my things were not here. I felt very stupid and apologized. She sent me to bed again, feeling that I was a lunatic who was going to hurt herself. In all the hustle to get me back to bed, I didn't realize that she had taken my recent letter to be sent out. I didn't blame her.

I sat on the bed with a huff. The jerky movement didn't bother Huan. I reached over and stroked his ear and still he didn't bother to react. Normally, he would twitch his ear and try to listen for footsteps. He was not moving.

Suspicious and slightly worried, I crawled onto the bed and scratched at Huan around his neck where he liked it most. His unresponsiveness rattled me and I immediately started to think the worst. I shook him and repeated his name, but still Huan did not move. I removed the blanket.

Huan was asleep. Facing my pillow, his eyes were shut and his mouth was slightly parted. He looked relaxed and at ease. I pet his head knowingly, letting the choking sobs release and the tears pour out.

"I… I'm so sorry…" I whispered, not able to stop petting him. "I wish I never brought you here… You never belonged in stone walls… I'm so sorry, Huan."

I snuggled into the bed and fit myself against Huan. He must have died when I was taking my tea – I never noticed… he was just lying there like always… why would I suspect…?

I pet his soft ears and wiped away some of the blur in my eyes. It was easy to recall the stories Linius had told me about Huan and where he got his name. Like yesterday, the words came clearly to mind. "You were named after the faithful hound of Beren… He gave his life defending his master. You defended me from myself, Huan. You remained true to your name… The most loyal friend I could ever ask for… I remember you liked chasing the chickens, too… And you would run after our arrows. And eat the snow that fell from the sky in the winter time… I'm sorry, Huan… I'm so so s-sorry…"

New tears falling, I clung to his dead body next to me. Wild ideas came to mind as I thought how long I could get away with keeping him here beside me when I thought what the people of the Houses would do to him. Probably burn him or throw him away.

No! I need to bury him. Properly. In a place he would like.

Without warning, Ioreth came into the room with the pot of tea. She saw me crying and came to comfort me. "Another nightmare?"

Not having the heart yet to talk about it, I simply nodded. "I just want to get back to sleep… please."

Kind enough to leave me be, Ioreth kissed my forehead and gave Huan an unsuspecting pat on the head and left, reminding me that the tea was sitting on the small writing table if I wanted it.

The moment she was gone, I got out of the bed and dressed myself in one of the House frocks that was hanging limp in the armoire. It was thick enough that I could wear it outdoors and be warm enough, but I wasn't worried about my comfort at the moment.

I went back to the bed and wrapped the blanket around Huan very carefully. I treated him like a glass figurine, worried I might break him. I started to pathetically cry again the minute his face disappeared in the blanket and so I had to wait a moment before I tried to lift him. He may have been old, but he was still a good-sized dog. He would be heavy.

True to my prediction, I struggled to lift Huan off the bed. When I finally had him in my arms, it took all the muscles in my arms, back, and legs to strain to hold him. I had to set him on the ground before I opened the door and found it was harder to lift him straight from the floor rather than the bed.

I discovered a new strength as I descended the stairs as I tried to hold onto him and remain undetected at the same time. A small broom closet at the bottom of the stair contained a shovel that was used to get the larger plants we needed, so I snatched it and balanced it atop my heavy bundle in the blanket.

The Warden was distracted in the pantry at the moment, checking to see if herbs were correctly identified and spelled. I snuck by the door and struggled to quietly open the front. When I finally made it to the street, I realized I had quite a journey ahead of me to get to Pelennor…

My first task was actually to hide Huan and the shovel in a tiny alley by the Houses. I hated leaving him, but I had to think as practically as I could. And so I ran to get Alatar.

The stables were practically empty – nearly every horse had been sent with Faramir's company. It was easy to find Alatar and he was excited to see me. Still, being such a good horse, he could sense my tense nature and the plain fact something was wrong. He nuzzled his nose on my neck and I hugged him in response. "We have to help an old friend, Alatar… Come, my friend. Huan needs us."

I led him from his stall and escorted him down the aisle. Just as I was about to leave, thinking I was safe, the stable master came around and saw me leaving with one of the horses. I had to explain that Alatar was mine and that I was indeed the Lady Finwen. It was a little hard for the man to believe considering he had never met me before, I had not visited Alatar in awhile, and I was wearing a poor frock from the Houses. Just as I contemplated jumping on Alatar and simply running off, I remembered the seven-star pendant around my neck.

"Here! See this? The Steward Denethor gave this to me on the last day of Yuletide." I held up the necklace for him to see. "Do you believe me to be Finwen now?"

The stable master accepted my proof and apologized. He mildly scolded me for not visiting Alatar more often, and I morosely agreed with him. I wasn't the best pet owner. Soon I was allowed to leave with Alatar trailing behind me.

Huan was still in the alley with the shovel when I returned. Without a saddle, it would be difficult, but I was determined enough. I slung Huan's stiffening body onto Alatar and quickly scrambled on top. I had to maneuver myself so that Huan was stuck between myself and Alatar's moving neck. It wasn't the easiest, but the shovel only made it harder. So this wasn't so bad…

I luckily remembered to give Alatar a set of reins, so I snapped them and had him turn down the street. People looked up at me in confusion – it almost looked like I was running away, I assume. But that was their standpoint and they did not know me or Huan.

Eventually, I made it out of the city. I left the outer gate with some persuasion (I actually showed the guards Huan's dead body). Not really knowing where to go, I had Alatar follow the old path where Ioreth and I collected herbs some months ago.

The fields were empty and dry. Not like I had remembered them. Patches of snow crippled the dead and breaking plants that were yellowed and brown from the cold.

Carrying Huan like this on Alatar reminded me of my escape from the burned home I knew in Rohan. The circumstances were rather similar really, if I looked into them. Only, I wasn't going to Ithilien, and I would not see Faramir, and Huan is dead. Seeing it clearly, I had killed Huan. I had taken him from his home and family and all that he knew. He had met his death sentence that day and he had died with all of that. Sure, he had survived with me, but he was not really alive. How could he be? How can someone lose everything and keep going and living and being? Time had killed him, too. How old was Huan? He was old when I met him, and that was well over a year ago… My eyes began to tear again, so I wiped them away. These thoughts will be the death of me! I must stop being such a cheerful person.

I had to leave Alatar behind. I had reached the path that cut through the corn stalks, and it was very muddy so I did not want to bring him in there. I got off of Alatar, took the shovel, and left Huan with my horse. I would dig the hole first and then come back for him. I hope no one needed that blanket…

The corn stalks were gone and foot high branches were in their place. I could clearly see the overhang from the cliff that sheltered the herbs Ioreth taught me to harvest. Everything was so bleak… At least there were pine trees. There would always be pine trees. They were the only hope of returning green. Today, they became my favorite tree as I approached the old grove where I found the Goldenseal and… what was that other thing? Sage! Yes, it was sage, wasn't it? Four or five of the trees lingered, harboring snow on their boughs and waiting for the light of spring.

The ground squished under my feet and my boots sunk in the deep. They were Linius' old boots. They were very good boots. Not some sissy pumps I had seen women of Minas Tirith wear. These were actually useful.

I scoffed at the idea of society while I started to dig my hole. The ground was very easy to scrape through, but I was dissatisfied with it. Once I hit clay, the earth became much harder to dig through, but I had not even gone a foot down. This would take much longer than I thought…

My hands blistered and were worn raw from the wooden handle of the shovel, but I kept digging. It was something to get my mind off of things – mundane work. It was just what I needed, really. Something to focus entirely on with only a few thoughts of pain in my hands to accompany me. It was good work.

I took a couple breaks, but I finished the decently sized hole under one of the pine trees. I reached a root and decided I wouldn't chop through it – I was a good three feet down. Huan should fit and feel comfortable inside.

I left the shovel behind and went to get my dog. When I carted him to the hole and put him in it, I couldn't find it in myself to actually cover him up. I had to though, so I bit through the guilt and tears and apologized with every new shovelful of dirt. When all was said and done, his funeral was short and painful and my hands were bleeding and I had buried the blanket with him. I wish I had some flowers… or a marker of some kind. The little lump in the ground wasn't enough for my good, loyal friend.

I regretfully turned away and dragged the shovel behind me. The cold air was nipping at my nose and the crying was making it run. I wiped my face on my sleeve like a big, messy child. My hands hurt badly enough that I did not want to carry the shovel anymore or touch anything for that matter, so I struggled to drag the shovel using my wrists. It must've been an interesting sight…

When I reached Alatar, I pet his face and climbed onto him. I picked up the shovel like a staff and took one last look towards Huan. I bid him farewell and snapped the reins to get back to the city. My disappearance was unlikely to go unnoticed.