Reminder:: I've said it forty-three times now. This is not mine!

Finally getting to stuff I want to write about. xD I feel like I could write all night like this, but I'm afraid of ruining things with speed.

Chapter Forty-Three :: Breathe

The shadow was gone.

When I awoke, the sun was streaming through a stone portal. The light rays landed on my blanket covered feet. I sat up groggily, hoping for a cold bath and some warm bread.

My eyes adjusted to the room well enough. I was alone.

I swung my legs over the side of the cot and saw my robes had not been taken from me. No wonder I felt I was being cooked…

Shedding the winter overcoat and left with a slight white dress, I did my hair up over my head and poked my neck into the hallway. The stone was expertly carved and vaguely familiar. I couldn't quite put my finger on it until I reached the end of the cold stair.

I stepped into a fairly large room full of tables and chattering men about without their armor. Drinks were going around as well as songs in an uproarious atmosphere. I blinked my eyes a few times in confusion before I caught the dazzling colors. I was entranced. The waterfall ran in thousands of colors as the sun glittered through the water. Then, all at once, the sun set and the colors disappeared.

I was in Ithilien.

It didn't take me long to recognize I was the only woman in the room and it made me uncomfortable. I shimmied along the wall, avoiding the crowd as much as I could before I found someone I recognized.

"Mithrandir! Mithrandir!" I ran to him, rudely pushing through people and nearly tripping on my skirts. To make more of a scene, I didn't stop when I reached him and wrapped my arms around his tall, white-cloaked frame without hesitation. "I did it! I told you, Mithrandir! The eagles! I found them and brought them for you!"

Shocking me, Mithrandir laughed and gave my back a fatherly pat. I pulled away from him and he rested his hand on my head – I've never felt so short. "Congratulations, Finwen. You have done well – worthy of all the Easterlings' good words."

I smiled wider than I had in months. "And you doubted me…"

"Mind, I barely heard your position before you galloped off." The bearded old man defended himself, leaning on his great staff. "Still you should be proud. It is good to see you about."

I let out a great, un-lady-like yawn and stretched my arms. "Did I sleep all through the day?"

"Quite a bit more than that, I'm afraid." Mithrandir shook his head. "You slept the journey you were gone – today is the second of April by Shire reckoning."

I nearly stumbled backwards. "I slept for… eight days?-!"

"Well deserved." He nodded.

"Was I ill?" I clutched my throat.

"Of course. One loaf of bread and a single canteen of water is hardly enough for the rigorous exercise you chose." He mildly scolded me. "Though you have been in and out of consciousness long enough to take food and water, you have been bedridden."

"I took food and drink?" I asked. I didn't even remember. "Where is Alatar? Is he—?"

"Shockingly, he's quite well. Only Shadowfax, Lord of the Horses, could compare." He said cheerily.

A great weight was lifted from my shoulders to hear the news. Alatar was more than kin – we were connected now. He had been there for me for everything I asked of him. If he had perished on the last great favor I would ask of him, I would have easily cast myself from one of these windows. I could not bear the death of another friend.

"What of Gwaihir and Landroval and the others? Are they well?" I asked.

"Returned home."

"Already?"

Mithrandir's smiling eyes threatened a roll. I've never seen him so… happy. "They would not linger. The eagles keep to themselves. It's a miracle they came at all with the wars in their own lands…"

"The real miracle is the Lady Finwen and her stallion." A strong voice behind me said. I twirled on my heel and came face to face with the Lord Aragorn. "Most horses would have been run to the ground in a night, but yours lasted the journey tenfold."

"Not to mention the cave troll – we thought you were dead!" Little Peregrin ran out from behind him.

"Peregrin! You're here, too?" I asked, smiling down at him. "Oh, come to me, you silly coward – I want a hug from you! I'm so glad you're alive and well!"

The hobbit obliged my request and tugged on my hand. "Come, Lady Finwen! There's a friend or two 'o mine you have to meet."

I hadn't meant to, but I had completely ignored the new king. Whoops. Mithrandir took notice and shushed him. "Patience, Peregrin Took! There is time for introductions."

Taking the opportunity, I quickly curtsied to the Lord Aragorn as I used to for the Steward Denethor. "My apologies, Lord Aragorn. We were never properly introduced. My name is Lady Finwen of Rohan. Named by the Steward and born of the sky. It is a pleasure to be in your presence."

Lord Aragorn nodded to me and I stood up straight. "You are too kind, young Finwen. My thanks to you for your courage and hardship. The honor is mine."

Whatever grievances I held against him that Denethor may have influenced melted. I was still drowsy, ravenously hungry, and he was insanely handsome despite his obvious maturity. Besides, if he fought that battle before the breaking of the world, he deserved every jewel of that long forgotten crown. "I hope to see you crowned before the Citadel soon, my lord. It is an honor to Gondor."

The Lord Aragorn smiled at me, but was soon called away and Pippin was already leading me by the hand again. Before we reached a staircase, a familiar face came up with a cup of mead in hand. "I see they've taught you a thing or two, crazy lady."

"Tristed!" I broke free of Peregrin for a moment and threw my arms about the lanky soldier. I pushed away from him after our quick embrace and looked him over. "You barely look the same without all that heavy armor."

"And you hardly look familiar lying on the ground next to a cave troll loaded with Harad arrows." He countered, but I did not understand. He had to explain to me that the arrows I salvaged off the battle fields of Pelennor belonged to the Haradrim, Southrons, and were poisoned at the tips. Probably why so little arrows were needed to kill the fearsome beast.

"It is so good to see you!" I said. The smile I wore so suddenly seemed to be stuck on my face. "Are you treating Taurwen well?"

"She waits in the Houses." He answered lightly. "Unless she was taken in by some invalid soldier, we're still engaged to be married before summer's end."

"That's wonderful!" I congratulated him, for some reason thinking 'Shakespeare ending' – whatever that was. "Oh, I'm so happy for you—"

"Lady Finwen?" Pippin looked up at me hopefully, saddened to be forgotten.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! Tristed, I'm afraid I've somewhere important to be." I apologized.

"Have you heard about Ben—?"

"Yes. I saw him." I nodded grimly, already remembering the decapitated head of our friend.

Tristed laid a hand on my shoulder and sighed. "He was a good man."

"Very good." I agreed and turned to leave with Pippin.

Again, Tristed detained me. He took my hand and kissed it. I stared at him, bewildered. Tristed grinned behind his dark eyes. "I almost forgot - from Mordred. After your errand, you should search for him. He's anxious to see you."

I smiled in what I hoped to be a convincing way and left him to follow Peregrin. The hobbit gave me mocking sideways glances and laughed merrily at me until I slapped him in the back of the head. "It's not like that!"

"Of course not, Lady Finwen." Obviously a jeer.

When I was thinking about tripping him up, Mithrandir's voice scolded us from behind. "If you two would do more walking than bickering the people behind you would be able to get somewhere!"

That sounded more like the Mithrandir I had become acquainted with. I laughed, not bothering to apologize and quickened my pace. The stair ended and we passed down a long hall that was opened to the world on the left. Tree branches moved noisily in the hazy twilight and more cliffs could be seen across the glen. Paths and windows seemed to be in reaching distance, decorating the canyon walls and creating a lovely view that we were forced to simply pass by.

Peregrin was talking animatedly to me while I stared out at the world and hadn't noticed I didn't catch a word. "—really not too bad. Expecting something awful we were! All mess and skin and bones. Once they get some ale down and a good pipe though, they should be right as rain."

Mithrandir filled in the blanks for me. I swear he could read me like a children's book. "The Ring-bearer owes his life to you, Finwen. Had it not been for your eagles, Frodo and Samwise would not be with us."

Not quite sure what to expect and still confused (what was this ring-bearer business?) I decided to ask questions later and learn what I could with open ears.

We were soon upon an open doorway where the stone was smoother and the floor less ruptured. It was a kingly room. Peregrin dashed inside, already jabbering away to introduce me. As usual for Mithrandir, he lingered back and let me go first. He was either the first or the last to enter a room. Silly girl, wizards don't stand in lines.

I took a brave step forward and peered around the corner. Already, I was wringing my hands with nerves to meet such great, accomplished heroes, but what I saw no words could have prepared me for. Propped up by pillows in adjacent beds lay two skeletal hobbits.

My jaw visibly dropped and I could not recover before Mithrandir noticed. Peregrin was still talking as always. "—dy Finwen! She rode for weeks without stop to bring the eagles to battle!"

"That's… an exaggeration." Were my first words I could find. I was not expecting Pippin's friends to be hobbits. Though I suppose it should have been obvious, I had not foreseen this. That the great heroes – the ones who as far as I knew who were responsible for our victory, for the destruction of the Dark Lord Sauron, the slayers of my nightmares – were two Halflings. Two… hobbits… No heroes of legend. No great warriors waving their swords high. But two hobbits. Hobbits. The same folk Pippin spoke so much about. The calm peoples who lived in meadows under trees. The most excitement coming from a fresh mushroom crop. Hobbits.

I smiled politely though my feet rocked me back and forth anxiously. "A few days is all…"

"Now who's being modest?" Pippin scolded me, hands on his hips. He pointed at me furtively and whispered audibly to his friends. "Like Merry this one is. Always with the 'thees' and 'thous' and 'yes, sirs.' Real lady."

I blushed and laughed, but their still faces unnerved me. Only now did I realize that they were sleeping.

Stepping forward for a closer look, I quickly turned back and whispered to the White Wizard: "They're not…?"

He shook his head and spoke quietly as Pippin conversed easily to them. "Sleeping longer than you have only they have not taken the food or drink you were conscious for. They haven't moved since we found them at the foot of the mountain. Peregrin is up here most hours, keeping their company."

Tears were already brimming my eyes at the sight. There was something so familiar about the situation, something that really hit home for me. Someone speaking to a motionless figure not quite dead strewn icily in a neat bed…

I wanted to break down and cry but for Pippin sitting at the foot of the dark haired one's bed. He waved me over as I stepped carefully in front of them.

"Well, say hello, Lady Finwen! Can't keep them waiting all day." He smiled through the silence.

I gave the two a curtsey and decided to act the part. "Pleasure to meet you – it's a genuine honor. I'm afraid I don't know your names to your faces so I cannot address you properly."

He took up the cue. "Oh, that's Sam – Samwise – for you over there." Pippin pointed to the fair-haired hobbit resting quietly. "Shy and stutters faster than a puff 'o smoke travels! Braver than bits he is though. Followed Frodo here all the way. Isn't that right, Frodo? Quite the hero now, aren't we? Bet my Longbottom leaf your head will swell on that one, eh? Ha, ha!"

The one called Frodo had dark brown curly hair like all hobbits, but he seemed slighter than his friend Samwise. As if he was small to begin with. A thick bandage was wrapped tightly around his right hand. There was a space where the third finger should have been.

Pippin gave the coverlet a pat, so I sat down where indicated. "See, Frodo, Lady Finwen doesn't know about all your adventures – neither do I! But she's a bit in the dark, see, so would you mind if I filled her in a bit? I hope you didn't want this story yourself, but we're a bit impatient here for you to open your eyes."

Suddenly I was swept up by Peregrin's voice. I was back in the White Hall listening to the tale of their quest from Rivendell only now the story was for me and the details weren't hidden. I knew now that the mysterious ranger they travelled with was the Lord Aragorn. Frodo, Samwise, Peregrin, and the hobbit Meriadoc travelled with Gandalf the Grey, Aragorn the King, Legolas the Elf, Gimli the Dwarf, and the Boromir I would never know to deliver the object that determined the fate of us all. And Frodo carried it. This Ring. The nine companions climbed mountains, hid from Saruman, delved into the mines (Mithrandir died?-!), scaled through forests, traversed rivers, and finally had to go their separate ways. But I heard more of Pippin's tale. Of great beings called Ents that were walking trees and a great flood washing over the wizard Saruman's poison, and long rides on Shadowfax.

It was a thrilling story, but I had a hard time comprehending half of it. I would much rather have read it or seen it acted out – perhaps then it would make sense to me. Still, I listened and tried to grasp what I could. Mithrandir waited at the door as if he was ready to throw in his two cents when the hobbit didn't give the tale justice.

What confused me the most was the two hobbits before me lying motionless. How could two such quiet, small creatures manage such a thing? What did they owe the world? They were so selfless to go on, to fight for something bigger than themselves. To be willing to die… for people they didn't even know.

A few tears spilled out, but Pippin was too busy storytelling to notice them. He cavorted about the room now, pointing as if the orc was right before him and jabbing with his sword – saving Mithrandir's life. The wizard came up behind me soon enough and placed a hand on my shoulder. I took his hand and let myself finally cry for these two.

Pippin saw me practically sobbing and stopped his story. "Lady Finwen?"

I couldn't answer him, but Mithrandir spoke for me. "You're a better storyteller than you thought, young Peregrin. About time we find the Lady Finwen something to eat, no? We can visit again after she is contented."

Pippin nodded with understanding and left the room, waving behind him in farewell. We began to follow him out, but I lingered. "Mithrandir? They will wake, won't they?"

Looking pained, he let out a great sigh. "None can see the ends of all means. Come – we cannot dwell on such thoughts. They have made it thus far. They will see another day."

The wizard led me out and I finally left the room. I had to admit – some food would be nice.

After taking some real food and a good glass of ale with Pippin, I decided to make myself useful. There were many wounded and ailing soldiers left in their rooms who were not fit to celebrate with the others. I was a woman of the Houses of Healing after all. I could help.

Though their supply room was nothing short of mediocre, I found some bandages and a few dried herbs that could numb wounds for a time. I carted these things from room to room, knocking the wall first and asking if anyone needed assistance before I offered what little service I could. After I had bandaged three legs, a head, and two arms, I felt fairly confident and more than radiant. I could never be idle – I needed to use my hands to be happy.

I boldly rapped my hands against the stone wall and peered inside a dim room. What I saw was another surprise to me – the Lord Aragorn sat beside a man with bloodied bandages wrapped about his head and sweat on his neck from fever. He had a damp cloth he would wring out and reapply to the man's brow.

I was quiet as a mouse, but the Lord Aragorn looked up anyways. His eyes surveyed my arms full of bandages and herbs. "A healer, too, I see? It's a good thought – he could use the fresh linen."

Though I felt awkward seeing someone who was supposed to be high royalty in but a tunic acting as a healer to a nobody soldier, I went forward and set my things on the cot. The man moaned in his sleep, his delirium and fever a direct result of infection from a large gash along his skull.

I carefully lifted the dark bandages away. The Lord Aragorn acted faster than me and before I could reach for the herbs, he had one crunched in his hand and was already carefully lining the cut. I took a small leaf and did the same, crushing it between my fingers. Soon we had clean bandages wrapped about his head and I held the stranger's hand for awhile to soothe his fears.

"No one mentioned you were a healer." I said softly, staring at the sick man.

"Strange – no one mentioned you were a rider."

I smiled. "You're a good man, if you don't mind my saying so. Though I was made hesitant at first, I am truly proud to call you King."

"Quite a compliment coming from the lady of three countries." He decided with a quiet tone, wringing the cloth out and soaking fresh water into it. "The stories I have heard seem to correlate, however fantastic they may be. You proved them when you brought the eagles, lords of the sky from which I hear tell you hail."

"They are strange stories." I agreed with a nod. "And I cannot tell you which of them are true for I have not heard them retold myself. But… I am too small for such things. Too small for kingdoms and wars. For Captain-Heirs…"

I couldn't explain why I was pouring my heart out to him as freely as I was, but Aragorn took it for what it was worth and he listened. "It seems your heart is loyal to Rohan, but it lies in Gondor. I wish you both well."

The embarrassed smile was imminent. I looked down and collected the bandages and herbs, clearing things away.

The Lord Aragorn left the cloth on the soldier's head and stood, coming around to help me stand as well. "If you're willing, I would like the company of a healer."

I nodded to him and took his hand as he brought me to my feet. Together we went to the next room of wounded.

I hope there are always good people in the world. This world of Middle-Earth.