I dreamed of Legolas. Aragorn. Gimli. The smell of someone's pipe.

Ow. Ow. Ow.

"Morphine. Lots of it." I waved my arm around, hitting something soft in the face, and prodded a nose. "Come on, doc."

"Wenduin?"

The name seemed really weird for a while. Wenduin? Wasn't I Kim?

Or was I?

I prodded the nose again, felt soft long hair, and tugged at it, ignoring the hand trying to detach my hand. "Pain killers. Now. Water. Something!" I added water, my throat so dry it hurt, bringing tears to my eyes. Or was that the effort put into speaking? The ache in my head?

"Wenduin." I tasted water, opening my mouth automatically, aware of ...herbs? Tickling my throat?

I opened my eyes and a pale face hovered over mine, my hand half over his mouth. Brian? No, not Brian. Legolas. But wait. That couldn't be right. Legolas wasn't real. Was he? No, wait, he was real. Wasn't he?

I blinked slowly, confused, and when I opened them again my hand was down and Legolas was standing against a window just a few inches beside me, his arms crossed, all his attention focused on me. Sunlight lit him, setting his hair aglow, his skin, everything.

When I blinked again, the light had changed, and yet he hadn't moved. There was more light in the room.

"Leggy?" All these memories were crowding into my head. I felt weird, my head span, I struggled to breathe as I stared at Legolas. How could this be real? It didn't seem real. But it was. The linen under me, the … was that a bandage over my head? I didn't know- I felt stiff all over, the sheets covered me to my waist, and I couldn't really see anything.

Was that something sticking out of my chest? An arrow? I grasped it, suddenly, panicking, and Legolas' hand slammed down on mine, grasping it.

"It must remain." He gently detached my hand from it. "There is air in your chest. Aragorn drains it. Drink and sleep."

More water, water that I gratefully drank, his hand trembling as he tipped it for me. I slid back into sleep, away from the pain of the room, only really aware of Legolas' hand over mine.

When I woke again, the thing in my chest was gone, and Legolas was still sitting beside me. Waiting. His grey eyes fixed in mine.

"You're not supposed to be real."

"You're not supposed to be here yet. Nor were you supposed to survive. Your wounds were ..." Legolas trailed off, dropping his head onto the bed, hiding the real fear and grief I'd seen earlier. "I saw you. Walking to the gate. I could not reach you quickly so I sent you an arrow. But I thought you had died. You seem to survive much... We will always surprise each other, it seems." There was this mixture of anger and anxiety in his face as he looked back up, shifting close to press his forehead against mine, inhaling slowly. "Did you not read the note?"

I shook my head. Oh yeah. I was supposed to be angry at him! "You drugged me. You jerk."

"I did no such thing." Legolas frowned.

"You gave me dinner. Next thing I know, I'm waking up, you've all run away, and-" The effort of saying all this nearly knocked me back out again, nearly, but I had started to draw on the anger I'd carried for the past three days. Four? Five? How long had I been asleep?

"I bade Boromir write a letter to you for me, for I cannot write in common script, and he promised to give it to you. I did not ask him to drug you. I believed it would be wiser for you to remain safe. I do not know how you were drugged, my love, I thought you had read the letter." Legolas was bent over me, kissing my forehead, stroking my face. "I thought you were upset. I left you to sleep."

I went to argue, I wanted to be angry with him, but I was exhausted. I wanted to sleep. I didn't answer. Couldn't be bothered to argue.

"Do not sleep yet. Wenduin, I must leave soon. Before the hour is up. Please." He was pleading, shifting to sit on the bed beside me, the mattress sagging gently. "Let us talk a minute." Something in his tone cut through my desire to sleep and I opened my eyes, trying to stay awake, Legolas smiling sadly as he ran his fingers through my hair. Why was he so sad? "Thank you."

"I wanted you to read the note. To me. Your excuse for ...drugging me."

"I did not. Love, I would never. But I will read my letter, for I remember it." He sat back, slowly, the sadness still in his face as he stared at me. Legolas stood up and reached for his tunic, his armour, slowly pulling it on as he spoke. "Boromir must have took it upon himself to protect you when he heard my message."

"Whatever excuse you had, it was no excuse for what he and you did." I muttered. What was with the delay? Some part of me did actually believe Legolas, that he hadn't done it, because hadn't he always made it clear that he would trust me? Sort of? Now that I was alive, sore as hell but alive, I wanted to hear this. Whatever fucking excuse, it wasn't going to be nearly good enough. "Out with it. The letter was in my pants."

"I know. I found it." Legolas responded. He was sliding the letter out of his tunic, flattening it slowly, gently, and unfolded it. "The letter should read- You are with child. Please stay safe." He held it out. It said, 'Woman- don't you dare leave camp. You are carrying the Elf's child. Stay put and I'll bring the Elf back to you in one piece in time for a fast marriage in Gondor's customs before the nine months is up. With love, and a lot of laughter, Boromir.'

I stared at Legolas. At the letter. All my anger just popped.

Ah.

Okay.

That excuse may have been one I'd listened to.

Suddenly, Boromir's actions made a lot of sense. I'd seen it at the camp- when he'd been in such a good mood, slapping my ass with his sword, teasing Legolas, all happy with some secret I hadn't known. And his behaviour when I'd lost the armour that was apparently good, how nothing had been good enough, nothing. He'd been more out of control than usual. It'd been totally baffling at the time. Now it made sense. If Boromir had known this before me, he'd have gone out of his head with worry over it, and … I could see him resorting to drugs. Sadly, I could. The big fucking idiot.

"Oh." I said. Sounded dumb? Sure. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I did." Legolas slid the paper back down. "I tried."

"When?"

"Edoras. I told you that no child for Boromir grew within you. I assumed you … could sense the life. As I could. I thought you were worried it was his. It was not. It was mine."

"Oh." I added. Maybe this was obvious. I didn't have the energy to think about it. Quieter I asked, "So he drugged me. You wouldn't have?" But it somehow didn't matter so much now. I'd still have to kick him for Eowyn, dob him into her, all of that... Boromir always seemed to be trying to do the right thing.

"My love, I learnt my lesson in Helm's Deep. If I tell you to not fight, you will find a way to fight, and I would not risk that." He laughed, softly, shifting to sit closer still. But he still was pale, reaching out to brush his fingers through my hair, hesitating across the space where the bandage was. "I would have you fight beside me any other time. Do you doubt that?"

I didn't. I seriously didn't. Why hadn't I thought of this? I hadn't bled once since coming here, not once, and I hadn't thought about it more than once. I leaned into his hand and breathed out slowly, sighing, grasping his hand. Oh my god. I was pregnant. Now that I thought about it, it was obvious, maybe always had been. And I'd risked his baby. I wouldn't have done that. "Sorry. But drugging me..."

"I believed you chose to remain behind." Legolas shook his head slightly. "I would not lie to you. We were gifted a child. It is not just you that I fight to protect now."

Gifted a child. Emotion welled in me at that. I remembered it. That boy. That little boy I'd seen twice now. Big green eyes, golden blonde hair, and that beauty that he could only have gotten from Legolas.

His father.

"I can't come with you guys to the black gate."

"Do you want to?" He didn't even ask how I knew that. Legolas stood up once more, sliding his belt on, and held out his wrist so I could do up his wrist guards.

"Now? Not really." It was the truth too. I was done being a warrior for now. I could barely move as it was. Legolas slumped with relief and was suddenly bent over me, kissing me hard, hand sliding down to rest across my lower stomach. His child. This news was overwhelming. I hoped I'd have at least six, seven, ten months to deal with this news. I grasped his face, stroking it, overwhelmed by the amount of love and emotion in his face. "I think I've seen him."

"Our son? As have I." Legolas laughed, suddenly, leaning forward to press his ear against my stomach. "In many a dream now." He hesitated, suddenly, twisting his head towards the door.

Eowyn stood there, arms crossed, face pale. "They are ready to leave."

"I think I can't move to say goodbye..."

"Do not move. Your body will heal, but slowly, and I would not risk you or our child." He still looked sad, even with his obvious joy at the baby, this sadness that dragged at him. Why? I didn't understand. "Aragorn has tended to you. He has asked you to stay in bed for several days, to be safe."

"What's wrong then?" And where was Boromir? I wanted to kick his ass. "Where is Boromir? He nearly screwed up Eowyn's fate."

"Boromir did not leave the City of the Dead. There was … a fall of skulls. He could not escape fast enough. He fell. I'm sorry." He was sorry. Grief was across his face, Legolas moving to sit beside me once more, leaning against me.

His words hit me like a ton of bricks. Suddenly, I felt like I was back on the battle field, struggling to breathe again, my chest hurting. Boromir. Fell. I wheezed, heart pounding, struggling to breathe suddenly.

"I am sorry. Wenduin." Legolas was saying. I could barely hear him. I tried to sit up, to stand, ignoring the pain, or the way my head spun. It couldn't be. He'd almost made it home. "He was happy for you."

He would have made it home if I hadn't forced him to go back to Edoras.

"It's impossible." Dead? The man was immortal. Hadn't I saved his life? Hadn't we given him a long happy life?

"My Lady Eowyn." Legolas was calling. Someone appeared, very sudden, a flash of white, hands shoving me back down with incredible strength. Or... more likely... I was incredibly weak. Eowyn bent over me, nodding to Legolas, who stood. "I must go, Wenduin."

"No!" The word was gone before I could stop it, devastation, this sudden real genuine fear that ...this was it. I wouldn't see him again. I grasped for him, Legolas backing up, sliding both knives onto his back. "Legolas, not you too. You know … it's impossible." So what if I had seen it go okay? I'd changed things here, in this world, and …

Legolas left with a sad smile, glancing back over his shoulder at me, before he vanished outside. Eowyn literally forced me to remain in bed as he did with just her weight, though it was hard for her, she was breathing hard as I struggled against her. She remained for twenty minutes, shoving me down every time I tried to stand, and only when I gave up did she finally stand up. She looked exhausted too.

She flopped into the bed beside mine, breathing out slowly, face pale. "Do not think you are the only one … letting go of things. Wenduin. Trust that he will return."

I didn't want to trust. I also didn't apparently have the energy to stand up. After twenty minutes of trying to stand, of trying to not cry or feel anything, I couldn't move. I lay there, my heart squeezing hard, trying to breathe, feeling strangely hot.

Boromir. He'd died.

How could he die? It made no sense. I'd saved him.

"Do you wish to talk?"

I shook my head, twisting my head away from Eowyn, shutting my eyes. I didn't want to talk. All I could see, all I could think, was that moment I'd made Boromir come back with me to Edoras. He'd never wanted to go. But he always did what I asked. He'd always wanted to make me happy, even protect me, even apparently if it meant drugging me so I wouldn't ride to war.

"What happened to me?"

"I believe you were stabbed through your side." Eowyn said softly. She lay there, I could feel her eyes on the side of my head. "Your leg had been rode over. Your head had struck something. It was a miracle you walked to the Gate- perhaps you may not have been found if you had not. Many saw you. Legolas was the last to reach you- the guards had already rushed to you as you collapsed."

"I don't remember."

"Nor did I remember what happened to me. At first. It has slowly come back."

We went quiet. I wanted her to tell me, even though I knew, wanted a distraction. I asked, "What?" and lay there quietly as she told me everything. Her and Merry, killing a Mumakil together, the Witchking, everything. She hadn't mentioned Faramir yet though and I didn't ask.

"I only woke three hours before you. Lord Aragorn's healing is ..." She trailed off. Eowyn was still very hurt. I reached out across the gap between the beds, finding her hand, my own gesture surprising even me. She grasped it. "I should comfort you. Boromir has died and your husband rides to the Black Gate."

Gee. Thanks for summonsing the problem. I felt my face twist involuntary, I wanted to cry, and to my horror she'd actually slid up to sit beside me, to hold me, leaning against me. It was the most beautiful, warm, caring thing anyone had done, and I couldn't stop it. I bawled my eyes out. I was just too exhausted, too sore, too weary with guilt to do anything else, and Eowyn held onto me, leaning against me.

This entire world was weird. It made no sense.

"When I was sad, as a little one, my mother would tell me that being clean always made you feel better. That all the sorrow of the world could be released so that we may sleep." Eowyn said softly. "I do not have many memories of her anymore. Would you mind... if we helped each other?"

I didn't. I really didn't care. When I nodded, it seemed to please her, and she stood up to slowly head outside, leaning against the wall, clearly as spent with energy as I was.

Warm water and cloths were brought to us, a woman coming into help us both, and both Eowyn and I finally managed to strip off our dirty clothing we'd pinched from Aragorn. The hot water did sooth me, a little, Eowyn helping me as my body struggled to move through the thickly wound bandages. I helped her- she struggled to use her left arm, struggled to move her body, helped her clean dirt and grime from her shoulders and upper back, her face, her neck. The woman helped us both with the rest of our bodies- neither of us could stand anymore.

Our hair was washed, and I combed hers, before she combed mine, simple white dresses offered to both of us. For once I didn't care that it was feminine. I sat there, numb, staring at my bandage covered side, my legs, the terrible bruising where someone's horse had trampled me, the bandange re-wrapped around my head. There it was. A baby. I stared at it under the dress. It wasn't obvious to me even now but …

Well, in so many ways, it was suddenly so obvious.

"Have you felt nothing?" Eowyn was staring at my stomach too, through the dress, her eyes fluttering. She was about ready to pass out all over again.

"No. No sickness. Nothing." I admitted. "I didn't think about it."

"You are lucky. My friend struggled in the early months of hers." Eowyn lay down, or rather, she flopped down on the pillow, and almost straight away she was asleep. I stood up, nearly tipping over with the effort, sliding a sheet over her.

I lay back, flopping myself, ignoring the flood of pain this action caused, suddenly so tired and devastated. Clean was nice. I felt better. But I didn't know if I'd ever feel okay again. Boromir had tried to protect me. Like everything he'd cared about. I was so angry with him, so really pissed off, and so guilty.

Sleep was terrible, I kept seeing Boromir's face, kept waking up expecting to see him. To be angry at him. I kept seeing that moment, when those skulls had exploded, kept seeing Boromir fall... and I was too exhausted to stay awake, to stay out of dreams, to stay away from the nightmares. Nothing anymore about the future. I didn't dream about the future. Only about Boromir. Only about his death, about his life, and how angry I was with him.

Eowyn was still asleep when I woke. I sat there, dazed, so tired and yet so awake, unwilling to go back to sleep. It had to be night- it was dark-but it was faintly light outside. So was it sunset or sunrise? I didn't know.

I stood up slowly, almost tipping over, a woman rising from the corner hurriedly.

"My lady, please rest."

"What time is it?" I could barely talk- once again I was really thirsty. I stared around for water.

"Not yet sunrise." The women spoke very softly, casting a look to Eowyn, who still slept soundly in the same posture she'd fallen asleep in. "You and the Lady Eowyn have slept soundly."

"I think I need to stop sleeping." I couldn't take anymore dreams about Boromir. When she nodded, she held something out, some kind of walking stick. Pride wanted me to ignore it. I changed my mind though when I tried to step on my bad leg and found it nearly giving way. "Thanks."

"For your child, my lady, be kind to yourself."

Everyone apparently knew now. Somehow I didn't care. I walked slowly, the woman beside me, her arm around my shoulders as we headed outside. It was very cold and she vanished, only to reappear with a thick fur lined cloak and a mug of warm water.

"Where's my elvish cloak?"

"It is in the chest beside your bed. Would you like me to get it?"

I shook my head, stroking the fur, deciding there wasn't much poimt. This thing was beautiful. "It's okay. Just leave it. I'll get it later."

"Then I will leave you to your thoughts."

She was gone before I asked her to stay. Being with my thoughts was the last thing I really wanted. I gazed up at the stars, tugging the cloak over my shoulders, trembling slightly. After some time I had to sleep, so I stood up slowly, leaning on the stick, and went to crawl back into my bed.

It took several days before I could stay out of bed for more than half an hour. Like after Helm's Deep, I was physically way past my limit, and my wounds did not heal quickly. Sleep was terrible- I had nightmares about what I'd seen and sometimes, about what I hadn't seen, like my horse getting crushed by the Mumakil, Boromir dying featured quite a lot, all kinds of terrible things.

This wasn't helped by the sight of Faramir hovering around. But...

Eowyn had started to vanish.

It was the first thing I had to smile about since the end of the battle, seeing as the baby only reminded me of Boromir's behaviour.

"Been out for a walk?" I asked, lightly, as I caught Eowyn sliding back into the House of Healing long after the sun had fallen. She flushed, jumping as if she'd been caught stealing, shrugging. "Faramir?"

Eowyn nodded. She sat down slowly, resting on the bed in front of me, a small smile appearing. "Sometimes I have spoken with him. Mostly I just walk. He has shown me his city."

She still seemed down. Still sad. I didn't see a trace of love or anything so I didn't push it, didn't ask, deciding to not try and change anything. What was the point?

"Are you still sad?" It wasn't really a question though. Eowyn was already standing, coming to sit beside me, reaching out to grasp my hand. "They will be at the Black Gate in two days."

"So long?" How long had I been asleep? It felt like days.

"It is a five day ride, four when fast, Lord Faramir tells me. But he believes that no soldier is strong enough to ride fast and Lord Aragorn will move slower to allow the soldiers of Rohan andGondor to rest some."

Clearly they'd spoken quite a lot. I nodded, staring blankly at the ground, still numb.

"The Prince Legolas will be very strong."

"Pippin and Merry have gone too." I gazed out to the window. I wished I could see them right now. The depression was dragging at me. God. Why couldn't I be happy?

Eowyn wasn't much happier. She and I sat there, quiet, both of us staring numbly ahead.

"The Lord Faramir knows of his brother's death."

"Which one?"

"He know you saved Boromir's life, only for him to die. He does not blame you."

"I blame me. If I'd only let Boromir return-" I trailed off. Stared away. "Nevermind. I know. Of course I know."

The problem was, knowing wasn't feeling, and when Eowyn wasn't around to distract me, I'd find things pop into my head. Stupid memories- Both good and bad. The way he seemed to have less control over his emotions, sometimes leading to him to blurt things out, half the time good things, half the time not. How he loved to constantly call me out for cursing, call me woman, but he always tried. The stupidity with the birds- I sometimes wished I'd eaten them just to make him happy, even though they'd been a bad idea.

Mostly though, it was that moment beside the river, where I'd made him come back with me to Edoras.

I didn't remember my mum. But right now I really craved her. I really wanted her here. I was afraid of this pregnancy, I honestly was, afraid that I wouldn't see Legolas again, that I'd be alone if Aragorn didn't return either. I was afraid that if Legolas did return and we went to Mirkwood, that I'd always be shunned, ignored, left out. That wasn't just my worst fear, it was the most likely outcome, and now that I had to sit in this House of Healing all the time in bed … I couldn't escape it.

It wasn't that I'd made the wrong choice. I knew it now- that I'd always choose Legolas. But Boromir was something special. A friend I didn't know I could ever replace. And I'd never told him that.

The last thing I wanted was to be shunned. Alone. Bullied. All my life this had been my usual life. But since coming here, I'd made friends, found strength, and had mostly felt as if I belonged. I didn't miss TV or my phone.

My strength, the 'warrior side' of me, was just shutting down. I was soft. I was weak. I could barely walk. Only when it reached the fifth day, when Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli, Gandalf, Pippin and Merry would reach the Black Gate, could I really get my body to walk for half an hour.

So that was what I did. Twice a day.

Late that afternoon, wondering if they had reached the Black Gate yet or not, I wandered slowly across the paths. Lost and wallowing in self-pity, I walked quietly along the edges of the city, avoiding the slopes that I couldn't yet handle, and … there, in a garden ahead, I saw a familiar woman with a familiar man.

Eowyn and Faramir.

Leaning against each other. His face this beautiful tender mask, similar to Boromir in so many ways, right down to the affection that sometimes I'd catch in Boromir's face when he looked at me. That affection he'd showed when he'd known I was pregnant and I hadn't.

It hurt and at the same time, it was beautiful. So beautiful. Because for the first time, Eowyn looked at peace.

I backed off, slowly, but Faramir had seen me. He looked surprised, opening his mouth, only for Eowyn to cut him off.

"This is the Lady Wenduin." She said softly. "I will walk her back."

They must have talked about me. I knew he'd have questions, I knew he'd want to speak to me about Boromir, it was just the obvious reaction. But with Eowyn between us, he nodded, his tender smile returning as he met her eyes.

"Of course."

She watched him go, her fingers grasping this beautiful glittering blue cloak thing, before she turned to me.

"He does not know." Eowyn told me, moving closer. "That you told me I would marry him. But you were right."

"It was just one possibility. I'm sorry if I overstepped ...whatever this is."

It did surprise me though- that she hadn't told him. I almost expected her to out me for ...well, I didn't know, telling her. But instead, she smiled this secretive smile at me, this 'you and I are in the club and know the secret handshake' smile between women that until now, I'd never had.

"You may not be my sister, Wenduin, but you are my sister in my heart. I always will hear your thoughts, your dreams, and hope that you will always hear mine." She slid her arm over my shoulder. "I have long wished for a woman as a friend. A sister. I grieved for Aragorn's love, yes, but also for the loss of a sister I had long hoped to find."

For the first time since I'd woken in the House of Healing, I felt the first real rush of warmth, the first real rush of some emotion other than depression, guilt, fear or despair, and it left me wanting to burst into tears all over again. A friend. I had a friend. A sister.

"Thankyou." My voice was all choaked up now. I leaned against her and didn't feel the least bit embarrassed about it.

Eowyn leaned against me in return. Quietly she walked beside me, the beautiful blue starry cloak over her shoulders once again, half of it over my body where she still held me close, her face flushed with this beautiful kind of joy. Aragorn hadn't come close to creating that face.

"You said I would be happy with him." She said softly, reaching out to grasp my hand in hers. "I did not understand what you meant."

"I really wasn't trying to arrange anything."

"I know. You saw my heart. When I saw him, although I did not know his name, my heart already loved him. I knew it was Faramir, Lord of Gondor, the man I would choose to marry." She reached up to touch the mantle. "You did not arrange this. You only told me his name. When I saw him, it was done. I feared it, I feared what I felt, but … yes. He and I were always married. I feel as if we were seeking one another in life. I believe I would have known this, even without your vision, would have known who he would be the moment I saw him."

"I'm glad you're happy."

"I am. Those looks, those looks you gave Legolas, I envied so much." She laughed, suddenly, this rare sound that echoed around the courtyard. Eowyn actually grasped me, hugging me, ignoring the walking stick I still held close.

"Trust me, whatever looks I give him, you were giving Faramir."

"I have seen my own reflection. I know!" She laughed again, releasing me, shaking her head. The sound of joy from Eowyn was stunning, amazing, and once again I felt the black fog of misary lift from my head. She was so happy! "I look as if I was a love struck calf. It makes me want to laugh and cry with joy. Eomer will think I am mad. I feel terrible, for I grieve for Boromir, a man I long respected but … I cannot be all sad. It will not happen. I would easier move that mountain!"

The mention of Eomer's name brought Eowyn back down to earth now, she grasped my arms, squeezing them, saying in a strong voice, "They will return, Wenduin. Eomer, Aragorn, Gimli, and your Legolas. I will come walking with you every day. When they return, your strength will be so great that you will ride to meet them, back straight, leg steady. You are not alone until they return."

"They're going to do a pretty crazy thing." I smiled weakly. "And you need to spend itme with Faramir."

"I trust Lord Aragorn with all my heart. He will not lead the last of Gondor's army to their ends." Eowyn was amazing. Even now, after he'd broke her heart so badly, she still trsuted the man. She grasped my hand once more. "I will spend my lifetime beside the Lord Faramir. Come. Let us return to the House of Healing. Tis nearly dark."

"And cold." More so as the sun sank behind the mountain.

"Just the damp of the first spring rain." She was repeating Faramir, the words bringing back that soft dreamy smile on her face, her eyes going distant. Yeah. The woman was in love. Repeating her man word for word? Eowyn was caught hook line and sinker. As if she'd caught me staring, Eowyn reached up to touch her cheeks, exclaiming, "To think not an hour past I was unhappy! What love does!"

Yeah, no kidding. A gust of wind blew past, nearly knocking me over, answering Eowyn and blowing our hair around. She had to hold onto me to keep me upright.

"It might be hard to get strong that quickly."

"I have not yet seen you shield from anything hard, Wenduin. Come. We will eat a good meal and rest. Tomorrow, I will begin your training."

I slept better that night. I still had nightmares, I still woke over and over, but compared to the past few days, it seemed to improve slightly. I wasn't sure why. Was it Eowyn's joy? Was it knowing that I had a friend? Maybe both. The wind also helped, somehow, the sound of it filled my head. It brought in the smell of rain, the smell of flowers, and every time I woke I could see Eowyn asleep beside me in her bed, in her simple white linen dress, so peaceful.

It wasn't just of Boromir that I started to have nightmares of.

The first time I'd woken in here, my mind had been so close to remembering everything about myself, that I'd at first believed that was where I was. Expected to see IV lines and stuff. It was so funny- that I was so familiar with a hospital.

But now I'd started to have nightmares about hospitals. All the time. I'd hear my dad say stuff like 'She fell' or 'Silly thing elbowed herself in her eye'. I'd dream of being in hospital more frequently than not, sometimes really sick, sometimes with a broken bone, and lie there being sedated and stay there.

I found myself, in my dream, lying there. Hospital. The horrible over-warm bed underneath me, the scrunch of plastic as I tried to scratch a leg and failed, the horrible sight of my own arm being punctured by the great big needle in my arm. It always scared me. I liked needles but these things always scared me. I'd heard that bubbles could kill you and I kept seeing her injecting things into the IV bag with bubbles in them.

"Are you sure that's the real story?"

My attention returned to where a kind looking policewoman was saying softly to me, her hand on my hand, bent over me so that she could whisper. "Kimberly. It's okay." She was really pretty. Like an Elf. Sweet smile.

I could only nod. I was afraid. I knew he was sorry again. She wanted me to tell her all these things and if I did I'd never see him again. Never. He hadn't meant to do it. Dad was just very sad.

"You'll be here for three weeks, maybe longer." The nurse was telling me and the policewoman together. "Her father's gone overseas. He left a few hours ago. I called the police-"

"He booked that holiday for us six months ago." I could hear my own voice saying. "I wish I could go."

They exchanged looks, as if there was something wrong with this, but I turned away to stare at the IV line. They were moving away, the nurse and this sweet faced policewoman, trying to keep me from overhearing. It was impossible not to.

"We got your message. The airport's still trying to delay the flight for us. Unless she tells us what we already know, we can't hold him any longer, or make him stay."

So I didn't tell them. I couldn't betray my dad. It wasn't his fault. He was so sad. I forgave him. I just had to heal and get back to school. He hadn't injured my arm this time- I could go straight back to archery.

Dad wasn't home when I came back three weeks later. Mum wasn't either. Someone else was though. I'd only seen photos of him and for a moment I thought I was having a concussive hallucination once more. Because Brian, ElfLord2000, wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to be in England.

"You stopped coming online. I was worried." He said quietly, as I moved closer, staring at me. Big haunted eyes. Heartbreaking stare. Brian held up something. "It was in the news."

'Local girl found beaten- no leads'.

They knew. Oh god. We'd have to move. Would I have to give up my archery?

"I told you, baby, I love you." Brian's words out here, right in front of me, instead over a mic... it made me want to cry. "I love you. I looked you up. I hacked into your past. I know it isn't the first time someone's been beating you. Baby, I ain't leaving Australia, not until you come with me."

"I have ...school." He'd read all my files? Had he figured out who did it? I was so afraid all over again.

"I know." He was reaching out to touch me, so quiet, so hesitant, like I was made of glass. "I want you to finish it. I want you to graduate and go to university with me. Mum and Dad have come to. I've got a job- an apprentice builder- and I have a room rented.. Why aren't they here to welcome you home?"

My legs did give way then. I was so weak, so tired, and Mum wasn't here. Dad was on holiday.

"I don't know."

"You don't need to depend on them anymore, baby. I'm staying here. I'll protect you." The words, when he said them, changed my life forever. " I'm staying to be your boyfriend for real. For good. The second you're old enough, you're leaving your dad and staying close to me."

When I opened my eyes again, I was crying, I was clutching the pillow silently, almost half convinced it was Brian. How had I forgotten such an important detail about him? He'd come for me. He'd saved me. Dad had found out about Brian- he'd walked into the room while I was on webcam chat with him, caught me showing Brian a boob while I was mid-giggle. I was fourteen. It was hilarious to me.

Dad had beaten me up so badly that I'd been in hospital for three weeks. But he'd been so sorry. He said he was just afraid of me getting pregnant. Or that I'd get murdered or killed. He'd been afraid I'd stop being his little girl. His team. His best friend. Brian had seen the whole thing. He hadn't told me at first- he'd only told me later- and his parents had seen it too. He had been so frightened for me that he'd grabbed them. Then he'd come to Australia with his parents. Moved out. Found me as fast as he could. He'd waited at my house, all day every day, hoping to find me before I re-united with my dad, unaware that my dad had gone off to Bali on holiday.

I hadn't known that he was also beating mum up. I'd already been out of home for two years when he accidentally killed her. When he'd gone to prison for good. Brian had wanted me to tell them what had happened to me. I couldn't do it.

I slid out of bed slowly, the tears still running down my face, as heartbroken an as hurt as I had been when it had happened. As if it'd happened all over again. Elvish cloak? Check.

It was freezing in the House of Healing. A cold wind blew. I shut my eyes, cold rain blowing against my face, leaning against the edge of the doorframe, tugging the cloak tight around my front. What had I remembered? Why couldn't these memories have just stayed away?

I was still struggling with it. With this Kimberly person I had been. Here, as Wenduin, I lived and I kicked butt. Kimberly seemed so weak.

It scared me. Scared me, because I was afraid this all wasn't real, that this was my way to escape reality. Maybe I was still in hospital. Maybe I'd been hurt. Brian hit me sometimes as well. He didn't mean to but...

"Lady Wenduin?" Faramir was just a foot away, reaching out, some kind of cloth in his hand. I stared at him. "Are you-"

"Sorry. Bad dream." I took the scrap of cloth. Stared at it. It felt real. How could both realities exist though? Was I Wenduin, or Kimberly, or was I both? Wasn't that razer thing always saying 'the simplest answer is the most likely?' Had I gone mad as Kimberly? "I don't feel real. Are you real?"

He stood up straighter now, dropping a pipe he'd been smoking, reaching out to grasp my hand. Faramir had calloused hands. One finger had a really nasty cut- a really old scar of where it must have almost been cut off once. It was so nasty I'd seen it through the dark night and the faint lantern light from inside.

"I am real, my lady." He'd released my hand again quickly. "Do I not feel real?"

"Yeah, you do."

"You may keep the cloth to wipe your eyes." Faramir leaned against the wall again. "I too am haunted. Feel the world around you. It is real."

He looked it. I stared at him, and at the finger that had that terrible scar, shutting my eyes. The cold rain, the wind, the freezing stones under my bare feet, the smooth warm fabric of the cloak, it all felt so real. Legolas' necklace between my breasts.

"My father nearly killed me. He beat me up all my life." These words had waited to come out for years. Years. I couldn't even stop them from coming out now, even though I didn't know Faramir, even though I wasn't anywhere near my father. I'd wanted to say the words ever since I was a little girl. But I was always so afraid. Afraid for him- that he'd to go prison. For me- that he'd hurt me again for saying it. For mum- that she would have a broken heart if she knew what was happening.

Faramir flinched. He stepped closer, slowly, reaching out to grasp my hand once more, with that careful 'move slowly' behaviour usually used for a wild animal. "Was that your dream?"

"It was … it was what I forgot. I only just remembered. I don't understand. I didn't tell Mum. She didn't know. But... if I had, he might not have …" She'd fallen. My mum had 'fallen down the stairs'. The police had seen right through his story. A fresh wave of pain, grief, and tears, and I tried to squash it down. It wasn't Faramir's fault. "Sorry. Sorry, I just woke up and-"

"You feel betrayed. Hurt. Confused. Loyal to him, and yet, so hurt that you feel your heart would break and never heal." Faramir's voice was quiet, soft, almost not there at all. He was staring at me with those haunted eyes once more. Haunted eyes that were damp- the moisture was catching the light of the lanturn.

"Yeah." I stared at him through my own blurry vision.

"I did not tell my brother of it either."

I opened my mouth several times, closed it, and shut my eyes. More grief, more pain, because Boromir was dead, and my mum was dead, and Faramir's mum was dead. Was this why I'd felt so close to him straight away? "Boromir probably knew."

Faramir didn't let go of me this time though. "He was close to you. My brother."

"We were friends. Really good friends."

"I know you saved his life." Faramir moved closer. Like me, his voice was broken now, his eyes on the sky. "I grieved and came to peace. Perhaps our mother missed him too much."

I didn't know what to say. I was just so cold and heartbroken all over again. Boromir. Legolas. My dad, my mum, and Brian. One world which might not even be real, one world that was just too awful to even re-connect to.

"Tell me what you think. Do not let it fester in your heart." Faramir said quietly. "Speak to me as if I was Boromir."

"What if you're not real? What if I just made you all up, my warrior side, everything, just to ...escape that life?"

"You fear your mind has broken."

I nodded. Wasn't that more likely? That I'd made it all up? I felt so weak right now. I could barely believe that I'd done any of it, the Orcs, the Uruk Hai, Moria, anything.

Something very sharp suddenly stabbed into my arm, and I yelped, jumping back from it. Faramir had stabbed me. He held a knife, apologetic as he held out a hand, saying softly, "You did feel it. I cannot tell you I am real- but your pain tells you."

I stared at the litle cut through the dress, the bleeding, the physical pain of this action somehow cutting through my emotional pain and the confusion. I could feel it. I'd felt everything here. Every wound, every injury, I'd felt the sword go right through my body in the last battle. Could the mind make up those kinds of pain? Pain I'd never felt before? There was no way I could have known how it felt to have a sword in me- how it didn't even go in and out cleanly, how I'd felt it snag on my own skin, grate against my own ribs, this weird vibration that I only now could remember. Faramir's eyes on me, I touched the part of my body where I'd felt it go in, trembling, the skin still very tender and only half-healed.

"I don't think you're my mind."

"I hope not." Faramir smiled sadly. "Come. Let us go find something to eat. You do not need to talk of what you feel, but perhaps some company will help you dream better dreams tonight."

"Boromir was so proud of you. I see why now." I said quietly. This made him almost cry, almost, but he managed to hide it from me. I pretended to not have seen the tears

Faramir led me to a very small hall, one for the soldiers, and side by side we ate small fire-roasted sandwiches that he'd made for me as I waited. Now he was warming milk in a tiny pot over the fire.

"My brother would do this for me when I woke with a bad dream. He believed that it eased the soul to share a meal. Feeling alone was what could start the dreams."

"I dream of so much though."

"You have been in many battles. No soldier escapes those dreams." Faramir sat the warm mug of milk down beside me. "None. Here. Drink it slowly and tell me what fears you have."

"You might not understand." The 'two world' thing blew my mind.

"Maybe not." Faramir agreed, sitting down, leaning against the table as he blew against the top of his hot milk. "But speak."

So I did. I told him about where I'd come from, how I'd come here, and how I kept being afraid that this place was made up because I'd already heard about it in a story. That I escaped to it to escape a terrible life.

"I mean, what I don't understand, if this is a real world and I really changed worlds, is why I can be here at all. Wouldn't disease and illness, new to everyone here, just wipe you all out? From the second I was here?"

"Are our trees different? Our animals?" When I shook my head, Faramir leaned back, staring up at the low wooden arch. "My thought is that you are not the first to cross worlds. Animals, illness, disease, perhaps our worlds exchange much more than we notice." Faramir offered. "You may not be the first to have come here."

"Not the first?"

"If our story has already been shared in your world, perhaps someone else came and did as you did. Walked with the Fellowship. Saw all that had been seen. Heard each story. Perhaps they came after the War of the Ring, documented the story, and told it in your world."

Woah. It was a thought that blew my mind.

"Perhaps many of our stories in return come from your world."

"But I'm special here. I'm not there." I said quietly. Was I?

"A fallen house cannot be repaired without the materials already there. You were always this." Faramir suddenly smiled, this sad smile, shutting his eyes. "I say words I should pay heed to. These are words I may have heard from Boromir."

"You're a lot like him." It wasn't just his words. I saw things in Faramir's face, expressions, the way he frowned, the way he wore his hair like that, these mannerisms that mirrored Boromir so much.

"So I have heard from him. Had heard. I did not believe it." Faramir drank slowly from his mug.

"Do you now?"

"Yes."

"But there's a lot of you from our mother."

I thought I'd gone mad. So too did Faramir, because he'd almost spat the milk all over the place, eyes meeting mine, trying to confirm as I had that I'd heard that. Boromir's voice had just echoed all over the room. Ghost?

"I heard it too." I said quickly.

"Now I understand what you mean when you say you fear your mind has broken..." Faramir stood up quickly. "For I see the ghost of my brother."

I twisted around, suddenly, and gawked at Boromir. He was leaning against the door, breathing hard like he'd run, face pale and drawn, clearly exhausted but all of it overshadowed by the oh so damn cocky 'I'm awesome' grin plastered all over his face.

"I see it too." I muttered. Okay. I was going to kill him myself.

"It! Am I not a man!" Boromir strode forward, tossing his Lothlorien cloak aside, reaching out with his arms. "Who needs a hug from a beautiful woman!"

He got Faramir, who had grasped onto him, Boromir's warm smile at his brother as they clasped each other's arms.

"They said you had died, brother."

"I nearly did. The tale is thrilling. When I have rested, I will entertain you with it. But I could not die yet. Wenduin had ordered me to marry and have children with a woman, and I cannot deny my sister." Boromir grinned at me. I kicked him hard in the shin.

"What did he do?" Faramir had backed off.

"Drugs. Remember?"

"I had to be sure you would not come. You did!" He held onto his shin, laughing, reaching out to grasp onto me, ignoring my squirming. "Faramir, did you know this lady here-" He'd used the word almost scornfully, "-is pregnant? She rode three days, fought in the battle for the White City, all while carrying a child."

Faramir gawked at me. What, men around here thought the second a woman was pregnant she was supposed to crawl into bed and stay there?

Boromir knelt, pressing his ear against my lower stomach, so familiar and comfortable with me that it clearly shocked Faramir. "This child is going to be a warrior, I hear it say."

"Get back. She's still a lady." Faramir dragged Boromir to his feet, his eyes raising, but so much relief and joy flooding his face. He grasped onto Boromir. "I thought you dead."

"I know, little brother. I am sorry. I was destined to die." Boromir breathed out slowly. "Is that warm milk? Can we sit a while? It has been a long ride from Rohan."

The three of us sat down. Warmth was returning to me, just a little bit, as I watched Faramir and Boromir talking, joking, Boromir's eyes always going to me. He was so tired, so happy, and when I finally smiled, it seemed to only provoke him to be happier. Cheerfully, with a mug of ale in one hand, a mug of milk in the other, he informed us of what had really happened.

He'd fallen. The skulls had knocked him down. Boromir hadn't been able to grip onto the walls- not with so many falling objects. But it had been one of those dead soldiers. Serving Aragorn, they must have decided that Boromir was worth saving or something, because they'd grabbed him. The path Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli had taken had collapsed so Boromir had to walk alone through the path, back out the way he'd come, and take the long slow walk back to the Rohan war camp. Too slow. It'd taken him twice as long.

"When Tinkerbell found me, I could hurry, but it was too late."

"You took her!" I exclaimed, suddenly, getting it. "

"Of course, are you surprised? She carries you so well."

I wasn't really that surprised. Not really.

"When I returned to camp, I expected to see Wenduin and the Lady Eowyn. Instead, I heard that they had made a daring escape dressed as men, and were long gone." Boromir grinned. "I should have drugged you longer."

"Be lucky you didn't. Eowyn was supposed to be at the battle." I kicked him again, hard, nearly knocking the drink over him. "Idiot. She was destined to kill the Witchking."

"Really? This you did not tell me. You see-" He turned to Faramir, who was watching both of us as if we were some tennis match, "-I believed that I should keep your wife safe. Wenduin did not tell me she was going to become a hero as well. When are you marrying her? Am I too late?"

Oh boy. I kicked Boromir again. Faramir's face had gone scarlet.

"No..." He muttered, staring away, avoiding both of us. "I court her, slowly, and we have not ...spoken of marriage."

Boromir chuckled, ruffling his brother's hair, before he took another long drink of the ale. "Now, to find me a wife."

"I'm sure Faramir's got suggestions, if he's anything like you." I muttered.

"He has more tact than I." Boromir laughed, shaking his head, Faramir still red faced and quiet. "He is thinking, I believe, that we should rest."

"He's probably right. I think I should go back to bed." I met Faramir's eyes. He nodded slowly, as I stood, the warm smile returning slowly through his embarrassment.

"Dream better dreams." Faramir shut his eyes. "As will I. If my brother will stop tormenting me with his teasing." He met Boromir's eyes, who just laughed again, Faramir now quick to duck Boromir's outstretched hand.

"We all will." Boromir stood up as well to hug me, this bone crushing hug, kissing my ear. "I am sorry for the drugs."

"Sure." I slipped back and headed to bed, glancing back, making sure that I wasn't dreaming it. Nope. Boromir. Alive. Tired, sure, but alive. He was turning back to his brother to tease him. With a soft sigh of relief I went back to bed and collapsed into the cool sheets.