It was still dark when I felt a sudden rush of cold, smelt very familiar sweat, and tipped backwards as the bed sagged towards something on the edge of my bed. A body slid in behind me over the blankets and a rough scratchy cheek pressing up against the side of my face.
"What are you doing?" I mumbled, sleepy, feeling Bormoir settle down behind me. He stank of sweat. It wasn't bad, exactly, but it was pretty damn obvious who'd just decided to crawl into my bed. "Get off my bed. Find a different hot water bottle."
A flash of light, from his lantern I had to assume, crossed the room as Boromir's body tensed and relaxed. "Not a chance, woman." When I went to shove him off, he tightened his grip, muttering, "I won't do anything. Still clothed."
"If I scream, Eowyn will cut your balls off. No. I will." I elbowed him, my arms pinned tighter as he held on, his face hidden in the back of my head now. There was a rumble, sudden, rolling around the vast plains that surrounded Minas Tirith and the city itself. This horrible, terrible rumble, and the burst of rain, two sounds that made me almost wet myself then and there. My body tensed as I realised it was a thunderstorm, not a lantern, that was flashing. Oh crap.
Boromir had also tensed though. He muttered, "Let me stay a while, foul mouthed lady, hide here with you. The soldiers can't see their Captain quivering like a boy."
"Are you afra-" I yelped, tugging the blanket over my head as a sudden flash came to terrorise me all over again, and I felt Boromir pull it over his head as well. "You too?!"
"I don't like the dark. Or thunderstorms. Don't tell anyone." Boromir's voice came from behind, his arms still clutching onto me hard, squeezing me against his chest. He added softly against my ear, "I wanted to tell you the truth."
"The truth about you being afraid? About your fears?" I knew I should be kicking the man out. But this would involve me suddenly being alone in a crazy storm. The electricity from the storm was incredible, I could literally feel it, and wondered how Eowyn slept right through it.
"No. About what happened in the caves." CRASH. We both cringed.
"You were saved and you escaped." I remembered it. Boromir had been laughing as he said it, as if it was the best thing that'd happened to him the entire time he'd been in the Fellowship, Faramir laughing along with him. "You just told me that."
Another loud rumble and the CRACK of something being struck. The city? I could picture this city as being way too good of a lightning conductor. Or didn't stone attract lightening? What about that tree up there?
"Was not all the truth." Boromir leaned against the side of my face, pressed against my back, his body tensing every time we heard the crack, and the man was even trembling somewhat. I'd never seen him afraid before. Maybe it made sense though. He had to be afraid of something. "I could not admit it to Faramir."
"So what did happen?" I twisted around, facing Boromir, his arms loosening and then returning to their tighter grasp.
"There was a fall of skulls, I did not lie about that. And I did fall. But no friendly ally of the dead came to help me. There was only a rock, sharp, cruel, and I held on until my fingers bled." Boromir inhaled sharply as lightning struck very close to us, the sound echoing around, deafening us both. "I knew not how far I had fallen. How far a drop was under me. I could not see."
I shut my eyes, letting him hang on, aware of how nice it was to be held. It really was. It wasn't sexual... but it was comforting.
"When it stopped it went very silent, as if in a tomb, and it was dark." He shivered suddenly, this shudder going down his back, his arms tightening around me. "There was no light. Our torches were gone. I had dropped mine. Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli had vanished. I did not know if they had escaped." Boromir's voice lost energy now, it faded away, and he was actually trembling. The big warrior oaf was trembling. "I could see nothing. Not my own hand. Not my own nose. I could still not see how far I had fallen. I climbed, my fingers slippery with sweat and blood, boots slipping. I slipped many times. I did not know if I had fallen lower. If I was close. Sometimes I would … I would feel a surface that felt flat and would hope it was the end, but it was not."
He shuddered, going quiet, I felt his fingers slide up my back to run through my hair, his lungs drawing in breath, Boromir's big powerful fearless warrior thing gone.
"When I did find it, I feared to believe it, and could not relax until I could lie flat. But it was still dark. There were skulls still, all over the ground, and I was more afraid than I have ever been. Nothing to sink a sword into. No battle, familiar battle in which I know how to be, only the dark that could never be defeated without fire or the sun. It was you that I held in my mind, as I lay there trying to will myself onto my feet, trying to convince myself to stand up and find my way out." He grasped me, lips against my forehead, fingers now tangled in my hair, holding me closer than I could ever remember him doing. "My brother. To see the two of you together. I wanted him to meet you."
He didn't speak for a long time. The storm kept happening, though now it suddenly was only in the back of my mind, I barely felt myself cringe. I was almost in that horrible place with him.
"I stood. I shuffled slowly. Always afraid that I would fall once more, afraid that I would find that pit, sliding skulls out of my way, hands out, expecting to fall or for something to strike my head. I had to imagine you were there, your hand on my shoulder."
Somehow his constant references to me during this made me uncomfortable. I felt guilty, I shouldn't have, I should have been grateful, but Boromir was … I didn't know.
"For a lifetime, I walked through the dark of that cave. Never knowing if it was the right way. Not knowing if I was lost. Afraid that I would die there, die of thirst, or fall down a hole just one step from my walk. Feeling the bones of dead soldiers under my feet. Afraid that a cave troll, or some other monster, would see me stumbling helpless and alone. I had no sword. I felt myself age faster out of sheer fear."
His words freaked me out too. How long had he been stuck in there? I didn't think Boromir was pretending to be afraid, he wasn't even really paying attention to me now, his head was somewhere else. "You got out though."
"Yes. I did. I came out in the night, alone, and I wept with relief as I saw the stars above. There was no beauty greater, no relief stronger, and I could not walk for many hours. Only when the sun rose could I will my legs to bear me again. If I had not believed you were at the camp, my angry lady, I may not have had the energy to walk at all. I stumbled back, slowly, picturing you. Waiting for your anger. Counting the hours until you would hit me."
It was the sweetest thing anyone had ever said to me. Sort of. Except that I was really uncomfortable about all this now. "I wasn't there."
"No." Boromir chuckled. "I was devastated. I was tired, I collapsed, and when I was left alone, I could not stop the tears. As if I was only a boy once more. I have felt more like a child around you than I have with any other, uncertain, awkward, and afraid again."
Oh man. I felt really bad now. Maybe I should have written a note or something. "Sorry."
"Twas only exhaustion, Wenduin, when I had slept I was my old self once more. Your actions worried me and amused me all at once. It is what I love about you."
Love.
The word hung there, as Boromir went quiet, and while he continued to flinch and react to the storm outside, I couldn't. I knew he felt like that. But he hadn't really said it like this before. Not since... that thing.
Then he slid out of bed. Feet heading for door.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to say something like 'HEY DON'T LEAVE THAT HANGING AND RUN OFF'. I didn't.
"Do not fear. Your elf will return. Sleep. Thank you for hearing it. I did not want … you to know the lie."
I nodded, shutting my eyes only now, and tried to ignore the feeling of shock. Hurt. Sadness. And how nice it was to be held. How much I wanted to scream at the man for just running off. Instead I went to sleep. Just shut off to shut these feelings away.
When I woke, Boromir was still gone, and some of my sanity returned. I stood up, dressed, raring to get up and give Boromir a real earful about the whole drug thing and also the whole 'stay out of my bed' thing. About the 'using me for comfort' thing? That baffled me. I didn't know how I felt about it. Warm, happy, chest full, but at the same time, so damn guilty, and kind of worried. I wished Legolas was around. I needed to talk to him.
No, it wasn't good that he'd been so afraid, but drugging me still wasn't a good move. I intended on using some scary phrases like 'Drugs could have harmed baby' and other such things that I knew would bother him. Let him sweat. Let him worry. It would make me feel better. It would make Boromir behave normally again. No more scared little Boromir. That side of him … I didn't know how to explain it, to see that part of him, but it unsettled me big time. I wasn't used to seeing him so vulnerable.
I shoved this out of my head as I tried to stride purposefully, or as much as possible with my weakened body, out of my home.
I felt guilty about Faramir too. Poor Faramir. I'd more or less whacked him over the head with my daddy issues. He was a near stranger and I'd blurted that stuff out at him. That stuff, however messed up it was, was not his problem.
It took some time to find him though When I found him, he was sitting in the sunshine, book in hand, in his leather armour as if waiting for something. He looked tired and pretty content so I assumed he hadn't slept since Boromir had come home. There was this little warm smile on his face, this peaceful expression, and as he looked up, the warmth seemed to increase.
He gazed up as I came into the little garden, lowering his book, and I decided to go with the easier question first. "Where is he?"
Faramir didn't seem to care that I didn't say good morning or something. If anything he seemed to be expecting the 'charge of the Wenduin' and had braced himself for me. "He has decided to enter Gondor in a manner that better suits his pride." Faramir chuckled softly as he carefully marked the page of the book he'd been on with a feather. "My brother has already gone."
"Gone, where?"'
"To meet Lord Aragorn."
"But the ride's five days! I mean, they'd be there, they'd be fighting..." This realisation made my stomach twist over, knot itself up and strange my lungs. Oh yeah. It was time. They would be there right now. Black Gate. "He wouldn't reach them." Should... I go fetch him? Again? I was tired. I wanted to sleep in some more. I supposed, at least, Boromir was back to his usual behaviour. Charging around following the whim of his pride.
"Boromir would not hear any word of possible defeat. He said that he would only return to Gondor, riding beside his King, only entering to the sound of the horns." Faramir reached out to touch my shoulder. "He said you would understand. In Lothlorien, he spoke of this to you and Aragorn, and asks that you do not chase him down."
Oh yeah. Lords of Gondor have returned.
"And he asks for us to keep his life secret. He wishes to-" Faramir hesitated.
"Enter Gondor in such a way that he'll never be forgotten?" Oh man, I sounded almost like a Middle Earth person there, and was tempted to add 'Make one hell of an entrance.' I held it back though.
"Yes, that is exactly it. He told me to tell you, he promised to bring your Elf back alive, and he is gone to make sure it is done."
I breathed out, tired once more, finding a seat and sitting in it. Okay. Fine. Whatever. Boromir's ego needed a boost. I was sure he'd love it. It was probably about a lot more than that- about Legolas, about Aragorn, about re-joining the other members of the Fellowship one last time. I wished I could have gone too now, sort of, but at the same time was very relieved I didn't have to.
What I did have to do was find some food. Not go crazy waiting. This was it then. Either Frodo would get the ring into that volcano in time or …
Would I know from here?
"You and Lady Eowyn are moving to better chambers." Faramir's voice cut into my thoughts. "I have asked for it to be the best found."
"Oh... thanks."
"Anything you need, just ask."
"A coconut?" My answer surprised me. Yes. Right now I really was hungry for a coconut. Not just the flesh but the milk too. Yum yum. Dig hole in coconut eyes with knife, drink milk, then consume flesh. At his blank look I tried again. "An orange?"
"Oranges are rare and costly. That would not stop me. But they are not growing this time of the year." Faramir seemed amused. "Would you care for fruit?"
"Yeah." I wondered if this was the pregnancy thing. I somehow felt devastated that I wasn't going to get my orange or my coconut. Maybe this was just a 'need more fruit' thing. "What about baths? I know they're not easy but-"
"Baths!" Faramir stood up, suddenly, his sudden examination surprising me. "Of course! My Lady Eowyn has not been offered one. She would lov..." He trailed off, catching me staring, his face reddening somewhat. "I mean, yes. I would gladly arrange a bath."
"Oh, was this about what to offer her?" When his face continued to go bright red, like some teenager in love for the the first time, I grinned. Disappointment about the coconuts and oranges vanished. "Oh. I see. Yeah, I am sure she would love a bath and fruit."
"It was about both you and her." Faramir sat back down, slowly, trying to distract me from his red face by drinking from his mug. For a long time. "I have … I had thought... she is like no other woman I have met. Nor are you. That what you like, she might like, and-" He trailed off.
"She likes to ride horses. So go riding with her and give her a really good one. Not a tame one, not a sweet one for a kid or a woman, but one with strength and spirit, the kind of one for wars." I wasn't honestly sure she would like this. But hadn't we agreed we liked the more practical things? "Eowyn's an amazing rider. Treat her like she's your equal. What would you want to be given?"
"What would I like to be given? Is it that simple?" Clearly he thought it couldn't be that simple. Because, apparently, us women were difficult and fussy creatures that Faramir needed expert opinion with.
"I don't know. It's just what I think. She's still a woman. And anyway," I added quickly, "It's not like you'll know her inside and out straight away, is it? It'll take time to figure out what she likes." Not literally, not yet, and I was tempted to tease him about that. See if he got it. It was probably EXTREMELY unladylike to crack jokes about sex. Probably. I wasn't sure why I had this urge to just blurt it out and watch his face.
"Time, yes. I just wish to make her smile." Faramir gazed away for a long time. The tension faded from his face, a tenderness replacing it, as he said softer, "Her smile rights all wrongs within the world."
"So write that."
"What?"
"You know. Love letters. Write her love letters." I wanted love letters from Legolas! That would be great. I could learn to read Elvish and read a letter from Legolas all at the same time.
"Can the Lady Eowyn read or write? Not many women do."
His answer was kind of shocking to me. I was so used to the idea of everyone being able to read or write that I hadn't even thought about that. Oh, yeah. That was right. Middle Earth. "So... if she doesn't know, teach her to read and write. That way she can write to her brother."
"Her brother?"
"He'll be going back to Rohan. I'm sure she'll miss him. You would."
Faramir stared at me with that 'Oh yeah, that's so obvious' expression. Okay. It wasn't quite that. But clearly he hadn't realised this was even a thing for her. "Her brother. Of course. I ...how could I have not thought of that!" He seemed to realise we were off track because he cleared his throat. "But you, my lady. Boromir tells me you are the sister of Aragorn."
"Oh, did he?" Boromir? Now suddenly a dead man. Again. The man should have kept his mouth shut until Aragorn and I at least talked about this ...dilemma. The last thing I wanted people to think around here that I was the sister of some king. Married to some prince was a complicated enough reputation.
"I have not told anyone yet. But what you need, whatever you wish, I will ensure it is brought to you. You are a Lady of Gondor."
"Oh." Yeah, Boromir was dead. He knew it wasn't true. "It's okay. Fruit's perfect. I don't need fancy things. Just a comfortable place to sleep, some fruit, and to be one of the first to know if you see them coming back."
"Because Eowyn wishes to ride with you to meet them." It was the first time he'd forgotten the 'lady' part around me with Eowyn and I grinned. Faramir apparently hadn't realised he'd done it. He was standing up. "When I know, I will send word to both you and her, you have my word."
Somehow, although I suspected he did like me, it was probably more for Eowyn than for me. Or maybe not.
"Um." I said, as he made a movement to leave, and now it was my turn to go red. Okay. Yeah. If I didn't say it now, I wouldn't ever say it, and I really had to. "About what I said to you last night..."
"Do not apologise."
"No, I was half asleep, and upset, and ...I guess I'd wanted to say it for years, but … I kept hoping..."
"But only last night could it finally come out?" Faramir sat down slowly as he cut me off mid-ramble. His smile had faded now. He gazed at me with a steady look. "I am older than you and I … had not admitted it out loud. Not to anyone. I never gave up hope that my father would …" He stared sideways, suddenly. The mood of the room had dropped now. It was sad again. Faramir breathed out a long ragged breath. "I know the conflict, that you love your own father, constantly striving to win his pride, and yet to constantly be betrayed by that battle. For your father to betray your trust too many times. And yet you keep trying."
"What else can you do?" I had kept trying. I wanted my dad's love. I kept pretending nothing had happened. If I'd told someone, they would have taken me away, and I was afraid of that. Afraid of loosing my dad, of loosing my mum, and loosing their love. I felt so guilty. Even now, I felt guilty. "I thought it was my fault."
"As did I. No. As do I. But we must stop looking at it as children. Now, you are to be a mother, and I-" He hesitated. "-I move onto the next stage of my life."
"I didn't mean to throw it at you last night. I hit my head months ago and forgot everything. Everyone. I still don't remember it all but-"
"That must have been a gift." Faramir was serious. He smiled sadly. "It must have hurt you very badly to remember it in one moment. I am honoured to be the one awake when you had to bear it. Perhaps fate had planned that. I see my own wounds in you. Your father did love you, as did mine, but ..." He trailed off. Sighed. "Who can understand the heart of a broken man?"
Was that my dad? Somehow it fit. I stared at my hands. Yeah. Sometimes he cried, sometimes he was really angry, sometimes he laughed. Sometimes he was the best dad in the world. That was what the trip to Bali had been- a birthday present for me. Two months in Bali to celebrate how good I was getting at archery. He spent thousands of dollars to make me happy sometimes. To try and make up for what he struggled to give me. What if he had been sick? Mentally ill? "Broken men."
The most radical thought crossed my head as I stared at Faramir. That it hadn't been my fault. Okay, yes, this might have been obvious to most people. But I'd thought it was my fault since I was a little kid, as long as I could remember, and to think this... to feel this...
"It wasn't our fault, was it?" I had an air of wonder, disbelief, I couldn't believe I was even saying it.
"It was never our fault." Faramir seemed to be as surprised by his own words as I was. He took a while to speak after that, staring out across the city, like he needed to really let that statement sink in. "I... will use all my strength to not treat my children as I was treated." Faramir said quietly. "My father gave me a gift- I saw the need for all children to feel loved. To never raise a hand in anger to any child. To see each child's strength separately. I hope that when it is my turn, I am a good father, a loving one."
"And Uncle Boromir can be the one they do their sword practice with?"
My question, half-serious, broke the sombre mood. Faramir laughed softly and stood up. "Yes. They can bruise him. I am due on the walls now. Thank you. Do not feel guilt for last night. It was one of the happiest nights of my life. My brother came home and I heard that I would marry the woman I wished to. It was a night I will remember for the rest of my life."
Eowyn was waiting for me when I returned to the House of Healing. She held out my cloak.
"We are getting somewhere to stay. F... Lord Faramir has-"
"You may as well call him Faramir, seeing as he just called you Eowyn."
She went pink but laughed, reaching out to loop her arm through mine, shaking her head. "Faramir has given us a place to live for now, until the coronation."
"The coronation?"
"Lord Aragorn."
Oh, of course. She and I followed a soldier, arm in arm, slowly up the sloping street. I had healed quite a bit in the five and a half days since the battle but couldn't walk quickly, I still leaned on the walking stick, and the slope exhausted me badly. Eowyn too, struggled, and the soldier had to wait patiently.
This did give us a chance to really look around though. To really see the city. Until now, we'd stuck close to the House of Healing, and hadn't wanted to walk far. There were some shops open once again. Not much stuff was there, not surprisingly, but the survivors of the battle still needed food, clothing and other things. Children were playing again- all of them still shell shocked, some of them injured, but playing in the dust of the road. Women gathered in little groups and gossiped.
If it wasn't for the bandages, the ruined shops, the dark shadows under eyes, or the faint smell of decay from the battleground that was still not cleared of bodies, it might have been any other normal day here.
Eowyn and I were watched closely, with open curiosity, as if we were celebrities. Maybe we were. I felt self-concious and stuck close to her side, avoiding eye contact, not really confidant enough right now to deal with the stares.
"Eowyn?" I asked, as we made our way slowly, sometimes having to make little or big detours around the ruins of parts of the city. I was thinking of Faramir, saying Eowyn couldn't read, and gazed around. Did that mean almost no women could read in this city? In this world? "Can you read?"
"Read? I can a little. Can you?" She gazed at me with curiosity, carefully sidestepping a stone that was as high as her calf, and nearly crashed into a girl. The girl didn't seem at all upset, in fact, she'd been staring at Eowyn intently.
"Yeah. Everyone can. Do girls learn?"
"No. Not usually." Eowyn looked a bit surprised by my question. Our progress was slow, kids were laughing and chasing behind us, or attempting to. Their mothers were pulling them back. I noticed that here no one, except us, had their hair loose. Some of the women wore beautiful hairpieces, their hair pinned back or braided, with only the little girls with free hair. Most of them were busy, brooms, or were carrying rocks to wagons, faces drawn and eyes tired.
"Couldn't they learn?"
"Many do not need to. They learn what they must from their parents."
This still made me uncomfortable somehow. Kind of exhausted- we'd walked up the slope for ten minutes- I sat down against the edge of the wall on a crate and Eowyn sat beside me. "What about the boys?"
"Yes, the boys do go to school." She smiled at a child who had come closer, sliding across the wall. "Hello."
"Hello, my lady." The boy gazed at her, maybe about five or six, staring with an open stare. I noticed he had a big gash across his face and neck. But he seemed pretty active and happy. It was amazing that he knew to call Eowyn that. I wondered if I should. His mother wasn't slow in calling him back over to where she was sweeping rubble into a pile with a fairly big broom.
"But not the girls."
"No. They become mothers. I suppose it is not seen as important." Eowyn didn't look comfortable about it either though, I realised, as I watched her. In fact she seemed to dislike it. Her voice had gotten tense and strained. "I only learnt because I would not let my brother learn alone."
"If I have a girl, she's learning. Learning everything I learnt." I muttered. The words kind of reminded me that I was pregnant. Right now. In a society that didn't have women's rights. What about Legolas's people though? Did Elves have better rights? I suspected they might have but I didn't really know anything about them. "Everything. Right down to the end of high school."
"High school?"
"We have three parts of school." I explained. I shifted on the crate. "There's preschool for little ones, three to five years old. Then there's primary school. It's for kids from five to twelve. Then there's high school, for kids twelve to eighteen."
"So much ..." Eowyn breathed out slowly. "Both boys and girls do this? From all kinds of families?"
"Yeah. It's the law. We can only leave school at sixteen if we want to. Most people go to learn after too. We have schools for adults to learn things."
"Like what?"
"Like... everything. Doctors, architects, engineers, all these things that need a lot of training." I explained softly. Eowyn was standing and I stood up, my body protesting at the movement, but she clearly wanted to walk again. "There's other things too. Some people learn as they work. Apprenticeships. They work with someone who knows the job and learn from them."
"That is what is common here." Eowyn reached up to pull her hair out of her face as we came up higher, the wind suddenly cutting onto the road as the wall vanished where it had been destroyed during the battle, and we paused to gaze out into the valley. Great fires burnt down there. Bodies being burnt. There were tents down there now, probably collecting the armour and weapons, or maybe to protect the bodies of men from Gondor and Rohan. "We learn from those who are masters. Healers, builders, riders, warriors. Your world seems ...complicated."
"It is, really." But still. I didn't want my kids growing up to not know that they were equal. I breathed out slowly, turning to walk back up the slope, kind of conflicted now. How could I expect it? Here? In Mirkwood? They would be in a different world to mine.
Neither of us spoke as we started to really walk back up the sloping road that twisted around Minas Tirith. Our slow progress led us around the curving road, up one level, and to where a tall elegant building had been carved right into the edge of the inside wall. It wasn't far from the very top. I gazed up at it, leaning against Eowyn's side a little, panting. Stone arches. Balconies. Three levels.
"Very beautiful."
"Yes." Eowyn agreed, staring up. "He has found a beautiful home for us."
For us, huh? I grinned a little as I followed her inside, through a door that had a little hole in it, gazing around.
There was a hole patched up with fresh white stone- I could tell, most of the wall had faded to a duller white over time, but one part of the building was this shiny white. There was rubble on the floor, a little bit here and there, and it looked like furniture had hastily been put back. One half of the main room's furniture was dusty and messy. The other half of the room had clean furniture but the floors were dusty.
"There must have been damage." I muttered. "It needs cleaning."
"We can do that easily enough."
"Yes, my Lady, twas struck. It was lucky to have not fallen." The soldier had followed us in. He was gazing around too. He caught us staring and blinked, sheepish, a bit pink under his metal helm. He wasn't very old compared to a lot of the others. "Sorry. I grew up in the lower area. I always wondered what these ones looked like inside."
"Is it much different?"
"The furniture is nicer. Mama would love a table like that. Um. I have escorted you. If there is anything you need, Lord Faramir bids me to tell you that he will personally get anything you need. There will be a maid to come help." The soldier straightened, grasped his spear a bit tighter, and bowed as much as the plate-mail armour let him.
"Maybe we should give him the table." I said quietly when he was gone. Eowyn had moved to look around, slowly, touching everything.
"It is a lot for a city that has survived war. Maybe some of it can be given to those who have lost their homes." She was saying this mostly to herself.
We had a room to ourselves upstairs. It was a pretty narrow building – it really only had a kitchen, the main downstairs area, and two rooms upstairs, but I suspected it was still pretty fancy for this city. I let Eowyn have the larger one. Once I found a bed, I flopped into it, and lay there staring out the window over the plains to Mordor.
Now that I thought about it, a door with glass couldn't be that common either, so Faramir really had found us a fancy place. The sheets were soft green velvet, complete with the white tree, the room a good two and a half metres wide and long with arched stone ceilings, the balcony extending from my room all the way to Eowyn's larger room. We were above other buildings- I could see the buildings below- and I even had a little fireplace. Probably for when it got really cold.
The room was nice. That wasn't what had my attention though.
Mordor.
I thought I could see it- a faint red glow- the volcano. I wasn't sure- the bright sunlight made it harder to spot over the mountains- but that red glow did give me the creeps. It was probably it then.
Was it going to be today? Or did they fight for some days before they-
Mount Doom exploded. Right on time. Like it was waiting for us. It was amazing, beautiful, and I stared at it, knowing where Legolas was right now. Where the entire Fellowship was. Again, I felt the quiet nagging sense of being left out, but I couldn't even walk for half an hour without a rest.
I shoved that nagging thing back into my head, slid to my feet quickly, shouting "Eowyn!", and rushed outside to the balcony. The volcano was erupting. Eowyn rushed out to stand beside me, her hands on the balcony rail, staring out.
"What is that?"
"The volcano's exploding. Mount Doom is doomed. Frodo did it! He actually destroyed the ring!" I laughed, relief flooding me, my legs going weak as I leaned against the balcony. I should have known this was how it'd happen. But I had doubted it, doubted that he'd even manage it, because I'd proven that nothing about this world was set in stone. Everything could be changed.
This hadn't been changed.
"Are you sure?" Eowyn couldn't seem to believe it. When I nodded, she laughed, grasping me hard, holding onto me as we stared out at the distant exploding volcano. "It is done! It is over."
"It's over."
I breathed out slowly, shutting my eyes, leaning against her. "They'll come home now."
"Once the battle is done. When every last orc is dead." Eowyn was staring down at my old faded dress, suddenly, muttering, "You need a new dress." Her words were somewhat half-hearted, as if the dress was really the last thing on her mind, and when she said, "And you will need to be strong enough to ride to meet them," it seemed much more like her usual self.
I didn't bother correcting her about the length of time. I remembered the land collapsing under everything that'd supported the big fire eyeball jerk. So they'd be home. Five days, maybe even faster, because if they were happy then... well, happy soldiers usually forgot how tired they were.
"We do not have much time to get strong then." Eowyn was saying, standing straighter, back to action woman mode all of a sudden. "Yes. We will ready ourselves." From the look on her face though, the focused action woman look she suddenly glued onto me, apparently this mostly applied to me. Eowyn was going to get me ready. She had that determined look as she eyed me up and down, even reaching out to pluck hair down where it had sat apparently in the wrong order.
I was doomed.
Eowyn went from being my nice warrior sister to something else. Three walks a day, up and down that street, and one ride on a horse a day. It was exhausting and painful. Between that, suddenly, she had me eating as much as she could get me to eat. Or we'd get measured for dresses. She knew I was pregnant, she wouldn't let me forget it, and although I could have happily eaten just fruit right now, Eowyn would come in every morning with eggs, or some kind of cheese, or all these heavy foods.
Maybe it was because she felt so weakened herself. It wasn't just me, I'd noticed, Eowyn was also pushing herself as much as she pushed me. And like me, her body was still weak, maybe even more so. It was hard to tell. I complained and grumbled. She gritted her teeth and stayed quiet.
"I've gained weight!" I said, slightly in despair, as one day later she'd had me stop to be measured for dresses. I had. It was so frustrating. I was barely able to walk up a slope and I had started to gain weight again.
"You are supposed to. You carry a child." Eowyn was moving across fabric arranged across the kitchen table, the woman beside her, fingering each piece. "These are beautiful."
"Made right here." The lady seemed to be pretty happy with this news. "My family have woven for those of noble blood for many generations now. These were still safe from the battle."
"For the Lady Wenduin, this colour with this, it will suit her. Do you think?" She was lifting and putting to one side dark green fabric with a lighter creamy thread which seemed to be more noticeable on one side.
I moved across slowly, fingered the fabric, guilty, knowing that most people wouldn't get this. "Shouldn't we... donate this?" It was so beautiful when I looked at it close up. Really soft. I'd seen people in such terrible states that I couldn't imagine myself wandering around in this kind of thing.
"This cloth has no practical uses." Eowyn responded. Maybe she was reading my mind. Or maybe she'd already wondered about it. She reached out to stroke her fingers over the soft fabric of the dress. "Women need their cloth right now to be sturdy to handle the work they do. The people of Minas Tirith will not suffer if we use it. But-" She turned to the woman, who was marking the fabric, "-could we have old practical dresses? Something we can dirty. I intend on assisting with the clean up when I am strong enough, and I believe Wenduin would do the same."
"Yeah. I can help." I smiled a little.
"Thank you, my lady. I am sure I could find something. Yes." The woman, an older woman with some kind of hair ordainment across her greying hair, was nodding, this relieved look on her face. "We can spare some of our older cloth."
"Also, can you make it into pants?"
My question may have asked 'can you make these into short shorts? The dress maker looked kind of scandalised by the thought. I hurriedly tried to laugh it off. "I mean, like a skirt, but split up the middle."
"A riding dress." Eowyn explained, hurriedly, eyes going from me to the scandalised woman. "For we both must do much riding to regain our strength."
"Of course." The woman actually looked relieved that I didn't mean real pants. "Of course. Yes. If that's what you need I can easily have it done. But I will use darker fabric- to hide the mud. This dark brown is of fine quality but is tough and hides mud well."
Of course. Because I couldn't look muddy.
Some part of me wanted to say I wanted Legolas to see me muddy. I wanted to get completely covered in it and hug the pretty Elf. She was still probably recovering from my 'she wears pants like a man!' thing so I kept my mouth shut.
But only for a minute.
"What about when women wear nice things?"
"Many have dresses for those special occasions stored away. Passed from mother to daughter." The woman responded, as she used something to mark me, her sharp grey eyes boring into me as she dragged an arm up.
"The battle may have destroyed some."
"They may have, my lady. My own were safe."
That seemed a little narrow minded to me. Aragorn would have his ...crowning thing. "Well, couldn't we donate some fabric to those who lost their dresses? You know. Because Aragorn's going to be crowned."
"Lord Aragorn." Eowyn hissed softly, nudging me. "She is right though. It is not a priority of most women, not at this moment, but it will become one soon. We may call upon you after the Lord Aragorn returns."
"As you wish, my lady." Another bow, totally indifferent look, like a dress charity was the last thing the dressmaker had on her mind. "Please raise your arm higher."
She was gone after a good three hours of fussing. I was dressing upstairs when I saw a bizarre kind of cloud heading for us. Like crows. But bigger?
"Eowyn, what are they?" I called. She was dressing behind me. Eowyn turned to move beside me, tugging her dress up as she slid her arms into it, and I went to tie it up for her, brushing hair over one shoulder.
For a moment Eowyn didn't seem able to answer. She breathed out, softly, quietly, almost afraid, backing up into me. "Nasgal..."
"No, it couldn't be." I backed up too though, sudden, just in case. Heart hammered. Panic started to fill my chest and made it hard to breathe. No. Nope. Not possible. Right? Idiot eyeball dead. Why did I need to use the chamberpot right now of all times? I didn't have the leg energy to squat.
Eowyn had her sword out. She could barely hold it- her body hadn't come close to recovering that much- but she was doing her hardest, her eyes on the shapes coming closer, face once again pale and drawn.
I scrambled for my bow, fumbling, my room not exactly organised. By the time I had it grasped in my hand they were close enough for my panic to vanish.
Oh, duh. Gandalf. Eagles.
Frodo!
"It's okay!" I grasped Eowyn's arm. She was close to dropping her arm. "It's Gandalf."
"Gandalf?" Eowyn hesitated a second longer, her arm and shoulder shaking, and when she dropped her arm it was with obvious relief. She slid it back into the thing it lived in and breathed out slowly, face still drained of blood, clearly not ready yet to charge back into battle. I guessed she would have if she'd had to but...
"Come on. He's probably landing on the landing strip. Um. Up the top. " I felt so relieved to see Gandalf. I had to admit it. After spending the last time at nights, staring up, wondering if this was real or not, I kind of needed to speak to the old man. I didn't know what he could offer to prove it was real. Just that … I was glad he was back.
And Frodo?
I kind of known he'd always come back. Maybe that made it less anti-climatic for me.
Eowyn and I hurried, or we did our best to, making out way up the hill. She asked about him and we were pointed in the direction of up. Up. Of course up.
Panting, once again exhausted, my injured side and leg aching, we moved up and finally reached the massive open area that was the very top of Minas Tirith. It was the first time I'd seen it and I froze, staring around, the wind dancing around us in earnest now. This, I realised, was why all the women tied their hair back. The wind was crazy.
As exciting as this realisation was, which was to say it wasn't at all, what was really exciting was that I actually saw Gandalf. Hard to miss him. He was striding towards us, the wind blowing his silvery-white robes back and forward, heading straight for us.
"Frodo and Sam okay?" I asked, when he was within talking distance, which made Gandalf's mouth snap shut. Maybe he'd meant to give us BIG NEWS.
He smiled though, amused, almost breathless as he rested against his staff. When he opened his mouth again, there was a slow nod, and he said softly, "He is very tired. But I am told both will recover. Sam already is trying to wake."
"It is true then?" Eowyn said from beside me, breathless from rushing, eyes on Gandalf. "He is destroyed?"
"Yes. Sauron is destroyed and Aragorn returns now." Gandalf turned his attention onto me. "I am weary. But when I have rested, I will find you and we will talk." It was as if he knew I wanted to ask him questions. Maybe this was because I'd kept opening and shutting my mouth looking for an opening to blurt out something. He sighed, softly, and moved past us to move away. "When Frodo wakes, I will talk."
This news seemed to set Eowyn on fire as far as 'preparation went'. Not only did we try and help now, which truthfully was never much, but apparently it was appreciated, but Eowyn kept me going with two walks a day and the riding.
She would head off during the day in her worn dress, come back exhausted and happy, and Faramir did not fail in making sure we had a bath. Once a day.
Eowyn actually told him to reduce it to once a week. I heard her, while they were standing outside the little building late at night, well after everyone sane had gone to bed. She'd been staying out later and later.
It was like watching a teenage girl's first real love. Even though she was probably a little older than me, though I hadn't asked to find out, I sometimes did wonder if I should have 'the talk' with her. Or something. Her mum had died young. I had to guess she knew about how babies were made, right?
I saw Sam before I saw Gandalf. He was sitting outside our 'house', head down, looking exhausted and dejected.
"Sam?"
"Lady Wenduin." He stood up quickly. Sam looked awful. Tired, pale, bruised, bleeding, and even worse, depressed. He was holding a small pack, his pack, and a blanket. "They won't let me stay with Frodo. Gandalf said you were here. Can I... sleep here? It's just, see, I don't know anyone else. And you're Fellowship. I'd sleep in the kitchen. I wouldn't be here much. I need to be close when Frodo wakes. I could cook..."
"Sleep here? Of course." I hesitated only when he'd gone in past me. Was this okay? If not, I supposed people would have to deal with it. "You don't have to cook either."
"I think I want to cook." Sam stared around at the large room. He nodded towards a corner, dropping his pack there. "I can keep your fire going down here. So it's warm. It gets cold at night here. There's plants outside. I can ...keep them weeded." It was like he was grasping for the familiar.
I hadn't minded the cold really. But I nodded anyway, Sam slowly undoing his bag, his eyes distant as he stared away. Maybe he wouldn't cheer up till Frodo woke up. He sat in a chair at the table, this tiny hobbit at a man sized table, and stared ahead.
"You can do whatever you need to. It'd be nice to have a garden that doesn't look messy. Sam, Frodo will be okay." I said quietly, moving closer across the kitchen to where he sat now.
"They say that. But he sleeps so deep. Not a sound disturbs him. He feels cold but does not shiver. Gandalf is with him night and day." Sam stared ahead.
"Ah." So that was where Gandalf was. I couldn't say I was that surprised. "I heard. Frodo desroyed the ring."
"He did." Sam glanced up now, meeting my eyes, and there was this fierce affection there suddenly. It blazed over his exhaustion, over his worry, filled with pride and love. Didn't I once wonder if they were lovers? "You should have seen it, my lady-"
"You can call me Wendy. See what?" I kind of knew the answer. I went to drop some small narrow logs into the wood stove, over the hot ashes we'd had from earlier, and put a kettle of the water onto the top.
"Wendy. See him. He was so brave. Carried that ring and fought Gollum. Gollum bit off his finger and Frodo charged at him. Knocked both of them off the edge. I thought Frodo was dead but he had hung on."
"You helped him out?"
Sam nodded. "I did only a little. It was Frodo who saved us."
"You were there. That probably made all the difference." I wondered if I should tell Sam what I knew. About everything. Maybe, right now, he just wanted to stay quiet. Frodo might tell us anyway.
"What of you, m... I mean, Wendy? What has happened here? Gandalf said you would tell me all that happened to the rest of the Fellowship."
I filled him in as best as possible, as we finally got hot water for tea, the two of us plating up food side by side. We'd already got food on the table as I finished, sausages, bread, potatoes fried with the sausages, real hobbit food. Sam listened intently, quiet, as I finished, "I might not have remembered it all. But I bet when the others get back we'll all be telling this over and over."
"I think so too." Sam smiled then, for the first time, a sausage halfway up to his mouth.
Eowyn didn't seem to mind that Sam was there. I wasn't even sure she noticed all that much, she was distracted now by Faramir, and Sam was pretty much trying to get into Frodo's chambers day or night. If she did notice she clearly didn't care that a hobbit was now spending a few hours a night in our kitchen. Sam left us breakfast, vanished, and returned late at night.
The news I was waiting for came on the fourth day. I knew it would, sort of, knew that they'd want to hurry back. I'd been riding the horse Eowyn had brought out, clutching to it with my good leg, doing my best to get my injured leg to hang on as well.
"If you keep using it, it will heal." She said quietly, frustrated, pressing her fingers into the muscle. When I flinched, Eowyn released my leg, putting her hands on her hips. "It is not easy to heal from this but I have seen men do it."
"I know it'll heal." I gazed down at my leg, sliding the dress up, touching where the brusing had still this ugly yellowness to it. Trampled by a horse. It had probably torn the muscle and done some nasty damage. "My other leg is getting stronger."
"You need to make sure this one stays strong as well. Or you will limp." Eowyn yanked my dress down, shaking her head, glancing around to make sure no one had seen it. My bare leg! Shocking. "Must I tie this dress to your boots?"
"I don't see the big deal. It's just a leg." I was tempted to tug my dress back up. It was already modified for me, this dark green velvet dress, I'd had them sew up the middle so it was more like a dress with two baggy pants. Overalls? Not quite but it kind of looked that way. It was better for everything, riding, walking, the usual stuff and only I could really tell that there was a difference. I'd made them put pockets in it too. How weird was it to not have pockets?
"My Lady Eowyn! Lady Wenduin!"
The shout came from a man, one of the soldiers we'd gotten used to following us around, his voice breathless. Oh crap. Had I been caught exposing naughty leg?
"Lord Faramir sends word. The army is not three hours away- Lord Faramir will await you both at the gate."
Three hour ride? Oh man. That meant a six hour ride round trip. Eowyn and I exchanged glances.
"Can you manage such a ride?" She was leaning closer.
"Sure." For Leggy? Anything for him. I hoped. "Can you?"
Eowyn was worried for me. I could see it in her face. I figured as long as I held on, I should be fine, as long as I didn't have to do anything more than point this horse and let it run. She hesitated then responded, "I can."
Maybe she was having the same hesitation. We had both had a pretty rough time. Both pretty weak still. But hey, maybe we could provoke each other.
"I will expect to sleep in tomorrow though." I added, shifting back, trying to get myself comfortable already.
"Of course." Eowyn moved towards her horse, flinging her skirt aside, her own style like mine. She'd started riding again as well. Mounting, she moved across to me, the horse hooves clattering across the flagstones. "I expect you to be with an Elf and will not even dare enter the house. Come."