I woke late that night. Nightmare. Couldn't really recall what it had been about except that it'd been bad enough to wake up to. And Legolas wasn't around. This wasn't THAT surprising, he didn't sleep much, but I kind of wished he did.

I lay alone in the massive room, staring up, the darkness only slightly broken up by faint moonlight outside. This kind of dark night was what made me miss and long for the more simple rooms I'd had in Middle Earth before now. Sure, they were barely wider than the beds, but they were cosy. This was a massive cave with dark spots. Waking up mid-nightmare made those dark spots seem to grow in size.

Nausa rose up, fast, a wave of sickness that reminded me why I'd woken up from that nightmare to begin with. I slid out of bed and onto the cold stone floor, searching for that stupid little chamber pot thing, and only just managed to find it before I chucked up all over those works of art they called 'rugs'. Dinner came up in a spectacular and disgusting shower of ...well, I was glad I couldn't see it in the dim light. I coughed, spluttering as the acidic stuff got caught, and tried to get some of it free.

I heard the door open and a crack of soft light flooded into the room. Not Legolas but Aragorn, apparently awake, asking softly, "Are you all right? Are you dressed?"

"Uh huh." Oh right. Undressing. I hadn't even thought of that last night. "Yes, yes."

He wasn't waiting for me to answer. Aragorn was already heading for the jug of water and pouring it for me. I sat back, trying to tug the covering over the pot thing as he moved back over, hiding the vomit. Chamber pots were not something I was planning on sharing with him OR Legolas. I didn't care how close they lived to me.

Oh god, did Elves have chamber pots? Holes in the ground? Did they even poo or wee?

"Drink."

I drank the water, resisting the urge to ask Aragorn, and washed as much of the horrible taste down as I could. Now that I was starting to really wake up it occurred to me that A- Aragorn had come in pretty fast, and B- ...he was dressed.

"Is it still early?"

"Aye, the early hours of the morning." Aragorn knelt down beside me. "But I could not sleep. I have been reading long into the night. Legolas asked me to keep an ear on you."

On me, or on Boromir, should he come creeping around? This reminded me of earlier. I sighed quietly and drank another deep gulp of water. The only way Boromir would break his oath was if he got drunk again and even then I felt like it probably wouldn't happen. The disappointed from before returned and it was intensified now by how Legolas just ...wasn't here. Again.

"Where is the elf?" He'd missed out on my first 'morning sickness'. Okay. It may have been unrelated to the pregnancy but who could resist the first educational display of human pregnancy? This brought up another big question about Legolas. Did Elves vomit?

"He is ensuring that all the records of Elves be moved into a safe place within my own private library." Aragorn responded. "Gandalf assists him, between tending to Frodo."

Frodo. Oh bloody hell, I was the worst Fellowship member, I hadn't even THOUGHT about the poor hobbit. Had I missed him waking? "Frodo is awake?"

"Nearly."

I'd heard this before and hesitated. Okay. So what I remembered was the quick transitions, Frodo did his thing, Gandalf got the eagles, Frodo woke up and Aragorn was crowned. Three seconds between each moment at the most. Was this normal though? It'd been at least a week since Frodo had returned. A week!

A new fear started to rise in me. I'd changed things just by being here. Was it possible I'd influenced something? Changed something in Sam and Frodo's path, their choices, something that had cause Frodo's health to be worse than I had expected, or something like that? Aragorn was watching me thoughtfully and I diverted my eyes to the half empty cup of water. Another long drink until it was empty.

"Are you all right, Wenduin?"

"With one of my friends acting like he's going mad?" I muttered. "Plus the nightmares. What do you think?" This negative response bothered me so I added, quickly, trying to be a good Fellowship member once again, "It's just the pregnancy. Making me feel a bit emotional. I'm worried about Frodo." Not a lie either. I couldn't believe I'd been so selfish and short sighted as to forget him.

"I have little experience with this condition." Aragorn responded softly. "But I am aware it is not a easy time for any woman. If you would like a maid who has already mothered children, as to have a friendly motherly ear to speak to, you need but ask. Faramir has already suggested that I hire a midwife for your maid."

A midwife. For my maid. Oh yeah, so she could tell me all about how the baby would make something that small turn into something that big. More questions that hadn't mattered. How much did women know about childbirth around here? More anxiety. I stood up slowly, Aragorn quick to help, and headed for the water. "It's okay. Maybe later. I feel better now that the nightmares are fading." That was a lie. I felt worse. Urgh. "Frodo hasn't even shown some signs of waking?"

"As I have said, he is very close, and speaks often in his sleep. Several times he has opened his eyes for a minute as I heal his wounds. You need not worry for him. He is in good hands." Aragorn's words surprised me. He'd been going there to heal him too? He placed a hand on my shoulder gently. "Sam worries for all of us. Trust that Frodo wakes. Even the black breath can be healed."

Wait. The black breath? This was not something I remembered being apart of Frodo's end result. "What is that?"

"I will explain it in the morning." Aragorn responded as he frowned. He was hesitating, growing tense, and for a moment I wondered if it was worse than I'd thought. There was tenseness in his face that he tried to hide. "Do not worry over Frodo. He wakes soon."

Aragorn leaned forward to kiss my forehead. Even through my anxiety, guilt and confusion, this simple gesture kind of warmed my heart... as if he really was a brother to me. "You are tired, my friend, tired with the worry and strain of your condition. All seems worse at night. Come and lie down once more. I will sing until you are asleep. We are brother and sister now, in heart, and I will comfort you when you need it until the time comes when you leave us."

I let him lead me back to the bed, I didn't correct him on the 'your condition' thing, I was too surprised by this side of Aragorn that I hadn't seen during his 'hardened warrior' time out in the wild. Not that I didn't like it... it was just different. Laying back down I tucked a soft pillow under my head and watched as Aragorn pulled one of the wooden chairs over to sit beside me. Aragorn actually did start to sing- it was a deep soothing song that I had to assume was in Elvish.

"You'll make a good father." I muttered, sighing, the words somehow easing my tense body back down into sleep. I could see it.

This simple statement made something in Aragorn's face warm and he smiled, gazing into the dark, continuing to sing in that soft deep voice of his. He paused, "I will wake you when the Lady Eowyn leaves," before he continued.

He kept his word. Early that morning, after another couple of nightmares, I was woken and followed Aragorn outside, half asleep as Eowyn hugged me hard. She was already ready to leave, Eomer with Aragorn, the others already mounted and waiting.

"I will see you soon." She promised softly. "Stay strong. When I return your baby may be starting to show."

"I hope so." I really did. "Have a safe ride."

Once Eowyn was gone I sighed, crossing my arms, slightly alone. Aragorn stood beside me as we watched the Rohirrims make their quick progress down Minas Tirith's levels and out across the plains, the pre-dawn light strong enough to watch them until they were just a blur.

"Go rest once more." Aragorn said softly. "You are tired."

No argument from me. I crawled back into bed, still dressed, and flopped.

When I next woke, it was late in the morning, and ...I felt better. I wasn't sure why. Just that I woke in that slow warm state of pleasure that I hadn't had for some time, the sounds of that song still echoing in my head as if it had come with me into the dreams, every muscle tingling with relaxation.

I noticed the curtains of my bed, the heavy velvet ones, had been drawn around me and created a much cosier atmosphere. One remained tied back, the gauzy curtain underneath it swaying backwards and forwards in a light breeze from the open window, and I sighed with contentment.

Now, all I needed was the elf with the grapes and …

Magically Legolas appeared. Beautiful. Wearing just the pants, held onto his hips by the drawstring, hair once again loose and braidless. He didn't have grapes, to my disappointment, but he had that warm smile and an apple in a bowl. He sank down onto the bed beside me with a soft, "Morning, a'maelamin. You are still dressed."

"Morning..." I was about to try and return this word but decided last minute to practice it a bit first with Aragorn. Surprise Legolas with my awesome Elvish. "Leggy. I know I am. Come here." I slid closer, resting my head against his thigh, one of Legolas' hands automatically finding my shoulder. "I missed you last night."

"I know." He slid the knife into the apple with one hand, the other tracing up and down my arm slowly, brushing my hair back. "I had a task to complete. Aragorn told me that you did not sleep well."

"Just an upset stomach." I yawned again, throat heavy with sleep, and shut my eyes. "No big deal."

"And dreams?"

"I don't really remember. They weren't good but … I don't really remember anything. Can't have been that bad." Given how I'd felt last night it was probably pretty understanding that I'd had bad dreams. Something sweet was placed against my lips and I opened my mouth to accept a piece of the apple, nipping at Legolas' thumb as I did, which made him make a soft sound of amusement above me. "How is Frodo?"

"Frodo wakes today." Argh, how many times had I heard them suggest this? Legolas was changing the topic quickly. "Today, soon, you and I will be alone. All day."

"All day?" Sex all day? I felt myself cheer up slightly. Not about the sex, though I wasn't going to complain, but ...Legolas. Beside me all day. Maybe that had been why I'd felt so bothered... he kept vanishing off to do things and half the time he didn't tell me what those things were. During my action mode time this was fine by me- I didn't have to know what Legolas was doing as I had my own shit to do- but when I was in 'peace' mode it got a little more frustrating. I needed to do something as well so I didn't feel so left out of his stuff.

"I have arranged it. I will remain by your side today, as I search through the records, and as I repair my clothing." Legolas nodded up towards the table against the wall. There were several large piles of books there, scrolls, and the pile of his clothing.

"Besides that?" I asked, reaching up to trace a finger over his face, and when he twisted his head to kiss my palm I felt warmth flood my heart. Oh fuck. I was in love with him. A smile finally breaking through my own turmoil of emotions, I reached down with my free hand to unhook the laces over my chest. Just a few. Just to ...let some cleavage show. Pretending to scratch the skin there I added an innocent, "We should eat something too," as if what I'd done hadn't even really crossed my mind. "Not just read and sew."

The affect on Legolas amazed me, the way his face went from 'relaxed' to 'focus' with a quick snap. Oh, he didn't openly gawk down my dress, he could be more subtle than that, but it didn't change that he was now doing his magic Elf eyeball thing. I was sure of it.

Course, I wasn't much better, because those pants he wore? They were thin. I felt his muscles under the side of my head. He was shirtless too. I had this mad urge to ...just write my name somewhere. Kind of a 'mine' urge. This must have been why people tattooed their lovers names somewhere.

"There will be some visitors soon."

"Visitors?" I slid up slowly. Legolas drew me into his lap and, rather than just sit there, I pushed him down onto his back and slid one leg either side of his legs. Mine. I kissed his collarbone, tiny feathery kisses that made him openly shiver, one of his legs rising to run against that space between my legs. "When?"

He gazed up at me, fingers running down my arms, his hands clutching onto my thighs as I teased him with gentle kisses. "In two minutes. Let me dress myself."

Two minutes? I sighed as he slowly lifted me up. I decided to not argue and sat willingly to one side and watched as he tugged on a basic shirt over his pants. "Maid?"

"For you, yes. For myself, I must offer some assistance with the envoy to the Elves, so that all is done correctly." Legolas hesitated mid-lace. "And I think you may need to bathe within the room beside this one. So we will not spend the day alone until I am done. But come join us when you have bathed."

So not quite 'together' all day. This was fine. When I ravished him later I'd smell like a flower of some kind. I slid up to help him, fingers tracing across the front of the tunic and against his bare skin as I did it up. It was one of those looser once, a v-neck down the front with laces to close it, a matching thicker fabric tunic close by. Felt soft so I assumed it was silk. When I was done he lifted the heavier one, maybe wool or something, and dropped it over his head.

"Are you all right?" Legolas said softly, lowering his head to kiss my neck, I felt him tugging the laces of my own dress tight once more.

"Yeah." I muttered. But I didn't want to lie to him either. "The whole thing is a bit stressful. It's okay. I feel better when you're around." Worse when Boromir was around. Just bringing up his name in my head made me feel sicker. I tied a bow in the thin laces and was kissed gently, our foreheads bumping together, Legolas sliding his hands around my arms and to my back so he could hold me.

"I am never far from you."

"I know. I'll find things to do." The lack of action was probably what got to me most. I itched for it. I was bored without it. Problems seemed intensified and … to be perfectly honest, being pregnant was probably not helping. "I will. You do what you need to do and I will too."

"What have you-" Legolas was cut off by a tentative knock at the door. He and I both stared sideways as a woman entered, Aragorn with her, Faramir drifting around in the background on the edge of the balcony. A new woman. Older, lines of grey through white hair, hair tied back in the same way most women in Minas Tirith seemed to do their hair. Legolas hugged me against him, just a moment, before he released me.

"My Lady, this is Irati. Your new maid." Aragorn smiled somewhat. "Legolas, we'll be-"

"It's all right. I am coming now. I will return soon." Legolas stood up straighter and moved towards the door. He glanced back at me, just a moment, before he followed Aragorn out.

Irati turned out to be a midwife as well as my new maid. She might have been in her late sixties, maybe even older, it was difficult to tell. Already had a grown up granddaughter who was my age and pregnant herself.

She told me all about this as she scrubbed me in the flower-scented bath, located within a tiny side room that I hadn't noticed behind one of the tapestries, fussing and actually telling me off when I tried to tell her to let me do it myself. She wasn't just done there though- Irati continued on to scold me for sleeping in my clothing. In some ways she bothered me... and in some ways it was a comfort to meet a mothering kind of person.

"Have you not cut this hair?" She was saying, lifting my hair as I sat half hunched over in the bath, Irati's brown eyes examining the curled wet hair critically. "The ends are dry and are damaged."

"Well, I thought ..." I hadn't really thought anything to be honest. It was hair. But it was short hair, compared to most women, still just barely getting to my armpits so I offered, "It is a bit short to cut."

"Hair grows faster when cut every now and then." To my surprise she was actually pulling out something sharp and metallic out of a bag at her side. "Hold still as I cut it."

She didn't stop there. To my shock and horror, she actually made me stand up, and shaved my legs. Again I tried to say I'd do it- and again, Irati more or less out-powered me about that issue. She was my maid. I wouldn't do a thing.

"Besides, you will likely cut yourself." She added. "Cutting the hair on your leg is not the same as gutting an orc." The words were very un-ladylike and to the point. Her hands were rough, used to work, and nothing about her dress was fine. I liked her. Even if she was kneeling in front of my naked body. "Stay still!"

I froze and stayed still, as she ran the very sharp blade of a knife up and down my legs, nearly leaping back when she went for the bikini area. A sharp pain in my thigh made her throw her hands up, a good trickle of blood run down my leg, and Irati just about grabbed me by the ass to hold me still with another, "Stay still, this is no bread knife! Trimming this hair decreases the smell and need for bathing. Now relax. How much of your body will I see if I am birthing this child? Hold your hand on the cut and I will bind it soon."

Oh bloody hell, I hadn't thought of that, that someone... probably a poor Elf who had no body hair under her chin... would have to be at the receiving end. I slid my palm onto the bleeding cut with a hiss of pain and tried to not run screaming. Naked. For Legolas. What if I called for him? He'd come running if I yelled.

Numbly, face burning with embarrassment, I did what I was told. She carefully dragged the knife where she desired and I really didn't know what else to do but obey. Raise leg. Raise other leg. Bend over. Oh fucking hell. Raise arms. Okay, the arms were less embarrassing, but it got bad again when the woman actually removed more hair from lower down. In the behind. She only let me back off and grab for a sheet when she'd more or less cleaned all hair off me. My dignity was long gone. Irati, this new 'maid', had just about seen every inch of my body.

And Legolas was going to laugh his head off...well, mentally... when he saw what she'd done to the hair down there. Everywhere. I was bald.

"Here. Let me clean the wound." Irati slid the knife to one side when she'd wiped it and pressed a wad of fabric against it, wrapping it slowly, adding, "You act as if you have not been assisted before."

"No. I mean, I shaved my legs sometimes of hair-" I assumed, still wasn't totally clear about my own history, "-but on my own."

"Did your mother not do it for you or a sister? You for them?" Irati ran her fingers along the bandage to smoothen it once more.

"No." It occurred to me, as she carefully tied a knot in the bandage, that maybe this wasn't so unusual here. Women being naked around each other. Helping each other. Mirrors couldn't be that easy to come by and the knife she'd used looked pretty sharp. It would have been so easy to cut myself with that thing even with a mirror. "I guess women do it for each other here."

"Aye, they do, once a girl starts to bleed. The hair can hold onto odour and it is more pleasant to remove it, so that we do not have to bathe as much, for it is difficult and tiring to have to bathe often. When the hair is removed we may last longer with a quicker wash." Irati nodded past me to a basin and a large heavy jug. "With just the water in there. This room is for your washing and needs. Now. The oil-"

And without a bat of an eyelash she actually started to rub oil into me. Lavender, I thought, maybe something else. Hands all over me. So I tried to focus on other things.

The tiny room had a narrow window from ceiling to floor, just a slit, that let in enough light to see but not too much to let people stare inside. The floor was bare stone, carved in a slight slope towards a draining hole at the edge of the window, which meant that all the water I dripped off was slowly making its way towards the edge of the window and would drain out there. Wooden trunks rested against one side of the room, in a kind of 'cupboard' with an iron door, which must have stored something. I'd seen a few brought in yesterday and hadn't thought about it.

I noticed now that there was a box. To sit on. Pieces of cloth beside it. Woah- was that a medieval toilet? Wow, that would make chamberpots easier, and I hadn't even thought to ask about that. And come to think about it, I did need it right now.

"I need to ...relieve myself. Before I dress." It would be easier that way. Those fucking dresses were like doing sit ups holding onto weights. Box or not. I added, slowly, "I need to dress in pants and a tunic today." Why not? I was going to be inside with Legolas all the time.

"I was warned that you preferred this style of dress." Irati raised an eyebrow as she got to her feet, slowly, accepting my hand. With a soft groan she rubbed her knees. "These floors are cold."

"I can do the oil part at least."

"The day I cannot work, kneel or stand is the day I am in my deathbed, child, so you will not. I did this for Faramir's mother and I can do it for you."

"You were-"

"Their nurse, the Lady's maid and midwife, and ever loyal to the Steward's family. Now I am to you as well. You are surprised Faramir asked me?" When I didn't answer, just started at her in surprise, Irati added with a soft chuckle, "Faramir told me the troubles with Boromir and asked for assistance. He often comes for a meal and to talk. You think he can handle his brother? It was me, not Faramir, who would have to drag Boromir back as a near-babe from the moment he could walk. He does not know when to stop when he desires something for himself. This has clearly not changed as a grown man. If he comes to visit you, he will find me, and grown man or no I will not be gentle with him. I have not forgotten what it is I will do with a naughty child, even if he has." She withdrew something from that bag of hers- a long coiled whip.

Oh man. I laughed, shutting my eyes, half amused and half ...well, sad again. Faramir had gotten Boromir's nurse onto the case. She clearly hadn't abused them, exactly, if Faramir had asked her. I couldn't see him letting anyone near his brother like that after ...well, after what he'd experienced from his own father. "So you raised him?"

"His mother raised him. I was her maid and the nurse. Her health could not always allow for her to be strong when she had to be. When she died I could not say I was surprised. I had warned their father to be gentler with her and allow her time to rest but-" Irati grunted and pushed the thin whip back into the bag. "He was too far from her age to understand. Too old to be her husband."

Gentler with her? Did that mean...

At the look on my face Irati added quickly, "Don't let your mind make up silly stories, girl, nothing so terrible. He could not bear to travel Gondor without her by his side. Day or night, she would be there, riding, travelling, sleeping in all kinds of conditions, and her body grew ill. When she was pregnant the second time I warned his father to let her remain within Minas Tirith but he could not bear to be parted with her. The pregnancy was difficult, as they travelled the land, and by the time she returned her body suffered. Faramir came too early."

"Is that how she died?" I was distracted by my bladder by this and stood there, the sheet around me once more, watching Irati as she sunk heavily into a wooden chair.

"The birth did kill her, yes, but not fast as you might think." Irati's eyes flashed to my stomach. "You have started your pregnancy with a healthy body, thick of limb and strong of muscle, and will have no trouble birthing that child if you listen to me. But his mother... Finduilas was already weak and sick. Spent much time within her bed. When she was with-child with Boromir, twas very different, she was very strong and alive. Then, it was known that none could match her for a bow or as a rider. Much of her I see in you, including what you prefer to wear in private." Irati chuckled. "Boromir was already coming out by the time I made it to her side. They were eager to meet one another."

I slid down to sit beside her, interested now, as the old women reached into her bag once more to draw something out. A sandwich. She broke it with her hands and offered me half.

"Eat."

"When did she get sick?"

"Slowly as the years continued. She lost children in pregnancy. Always a son. Finduilas never told Denethor, out of love for him, as she believed that her son was trying over and over to be born. But she was sad. She missed her home, and as Denethor grew into an older man, he was less able to see how alone she felt. Faramir's pregnancy was not an easy one and Denethor was tasked to travel once more on behalf of his father, the steward of Gondor, and once again he took her with him." Irati sighed quietly. "When she returned she could barely walk. But she had held onto this child. Faramir came too early, her body was too weak, and her heart too sad. She feared he would be dead, feared his death, and her sadness grew worse when he appeared to be weak and sickly as she was. There was no more smiling. She remained in bed and rarely left it. Denethor could not look at Faramir, only see his wife, and see her broken heart. I raised Faramir and Boromir spent most of his time with us. She held onto life long enough for him to have a memory of her but when she died, I was told to leave. But Faramir would continue to come to me. I would have to bring him back, time and time again, even when he begged to stay."

Irati didn't speak for a long time. The smile had long gone, she just looked sad and tired, leaning forward. Did she know what Faramir had suffered?

I didn't know what to say. I sat there, staring ahead, her words echoing in my head. My world had something about that- depression after pregnancy. But maybe she'd already been sick. Or maybe not.

"You will not suffer as she did, girl, so wipe that face away. How far are you?"

"I don't know." I admitted. How long had it been since Lothlorien? "Not that far."

"Perhaps not. I have heard you intend to ride to Mirkwood within a month. This is not a wise idea." Irati leaned forward, taking a bite of her sandwich as she did, waving her free hand at me as she ate through her chewing, "The path is dangerous and filled with danger. The forests of Mirkwood alone, I have heard, are not safe even for a warrior. It will weaken you. But if you intend on going anyway, eat that food and keep your body thick and strong, and keep walking."

Once Irati had made sure I'd eaten, relieved myself and had dressed, she left me alone to arrange the right 'meals' with the cook. Dressing me hadn't worried me so much- and anyway I need her help with that asmy leg still struggled to hold my weight when I bent it- but something else weighed on my mind.

I stood there in the soft grey pants, pulled over matching leggings, and the long knee-length dark blue tunic that had been studded with grey stars. She'd twisted my hair back in some complex knot braid thing behind my head in true Minas Tirith style and attached decorations to it. Clearly had to make some part of me feminine. I gazed out the window at the city once more. Then to a mirror to stare at myself. I stared at my stomach, lifting the soft dark blue fabric, trying to find the baby lump. Nothing. The hair looked kind of cool though and the tunic actually did seem pretty feminine. The pants were fairly baggy at the bottom. Could have passed for a skirt if I didn't move. Maybe it had been made for me.

"The look suits you."

Boromir's voice startled me and I jumped back from the window as he hoisted himself up. Into the window. Panting. Sweating. A big stupid grin on his face as if he'd just won the lottery.

Hang on, it was a sixty foot climb.

"Did you climb all the fucking way up? What the hell-" His hand clasped over mine as I went to shout at him.

"Your mouth, my lady, does not suit Gondor. Quieten down." Boromir released my mouth, glancing over his shoulder at the climb, and shook his head. "No, I came from a nearby building and climbed across."

Oh bloody hell.

"Boromir, you aren't even supposed to be here." Not that I minded, I realised, and in fact I was kind of glad he was back to his usual stupid self. "Didn't you swear?"

"Swear? Never. I suggested I may think on it." Boromir sat down heavily on the ground and added, "Are you bringing me water?"

I brought him water. I dumped the whole stupid jug on his big stupid head. He grinned at me and opened his mouth to drink part of it. The temptation to kick him was too great to ignore and I almost fell over, Boromir grasping my legs just in time, as my poor injured leg nearly buckled.

"You came into my room drunk and kissed me. What's the matter with you?" I slid backwards, careful of my leg and the now soaking floor, only a tiny bit guilty that I'd gotten part of their fancy rug wet. I'd gotten their fancy Boromir wet. That had been worth it.

"This how you treat a man who comes to apologise?"

"Apologise?"

"Aye, woman, I risked life, limb, Elf and Dwarf to come apologetic." Boromir slowly stood up and shook his wet tunic. He actually had the nerve to eye Legolas' tunic, grinning once more, and reached out.

"Not wearing it." I blocked him pretty fast.

"I was teasing. Wenduin. I am sorry for how I behaved." His smile faded. Okay. There was some kind of genuine apologetic thing there. "I get afraid."

"Yeah, and you've gotta stop letting it run your life. You're acting stupid." I snapped. I sighed as he flinched. First time I'd called him stupid to his face. I added, quieter, "And you're not stupid. So stop it."

Boromir sighed. He strode across the room to sit in a chair, quieter now, the amusement and teasing gone from his face. Now I saw that he was sweaty and pretty tired looking, slumping, and wondered if he'd really 'just climbed from a nearby building' or not.

I held out an apple and he grasped my wrist instead, his eyes sideways, so I yanked it back and crossed my arms. I didn't know what to say. I stood beside him, arms crossed as I stayed balanced, . The air grew silent, tense, even awkward. I didn't know what to say.

"So Legolas and Gimli talked with you?"

"If by talk, hang me over the edge of Minas Tirith and warn me to behave, yes."

Oh man. That was surprisingly dark for Legolas. But Boromir grinned suddenly, the light returning to his face, clearly not at all upset. If anything he seemed amused. He grasped me, suddenly, tugging me into his lap, lips capturing mine with a hard kiss as his arms wrapped around me. Heat flooded me, my face, my body, feeling his arms grab me hard and hold me there. He ignored my hand as I slammed the apple into his side repeatedly.

"Do not sleep beside Legolas. Do not ..." Boromir's voice was very soft, his head ducking to kiss my cheek, both sides, and once again I saw the traces of aging on his face. Lines, wrinkles, hair that was slightly greasy, I could still feel the beard tickling my face. Something hard under my thigh.

"Boromir, for fuc-"

He cut me off with another kiss, even as I struggled to stand, this one long and gentle, one of his hands behind my head. Only when I stopped trying to talk did Boromir speak. "I will not allow you to sleep beside him."

I smashed the apple over his head when he came close for another kiss, the entire thing crashing into pieces and Boromir sighed. He stood up for us both, releasing me. The strength in his legs, I felt it as we rose together, his strong arms keeping me upright even as my leg threatened to buckle when I tried to back up too fast. But he was breathing hard, even as he stood there holding me, and that hardness I was sure I'd felt...

Leggings did not hide much. Even if he wasn't competely turned on, I had seen Legolas enough to know 'excited for more'. And no- although I'd hope it was it was not his sword. Argh.

The worst part was that I felt it too. I did. Okay, clearly not the same I also now wanted to throw up, the smell of the apple bothered me. But I felt that arousal. It made me feel so fucking ashamed like something was wrong with me. Was it because I'd already felt it earlier with Legolas? Had I pre-...teased my body into this? Was it hormonal?

It was mad. They were physically so different. It wasn't like I was mistaking them for each other.

Boromir either didn't notice or didn't get bothered so I kept my eyes above belt. Crossed my arms. Yes. It had to be the pregnancy. I'd been seducing Legolas before. Or trying to. It hadn't worked very well.

"Stop kissing me." I snapped. "You have to ruin the moment everytime with that."

"You are beautiful when you're angry." Boromir said softly, ducking closer, and when I shoved at him, he frowned. "Wenduin..."

"You think it's funny to climb up here and do that?" I went to kick him, Boromir backing up, his hands raising in defeat. "I should throw you out the window for that. Dangle you off Minas Tirith myself."

Boromir grabbed me hard, sudden, catching my hands as they tried to fly at his face. He bent over me, eyes fixed in mine, all trace of humour gone. "I could not resist your face. I will … try and restrain myself. Wenduin, stop being angry and listen to me. stay away from Legolas at night. During the day..." Jealousy flared across his face, hot angry jealousy that made his eyes shut a moment, and hurt that stabbed at my heart. "...do not torment me with that thought. But at night, sleep alone, remain alone in your bed. I will stay with you. You will be safe."

His hurt face burnt into my mind and heart, as he swallowed, his throat convulsing even as he tried to talk past this thought... this reality that so clearly hurt him. No masks, nothing, it was like he couldn't even begin to hide how much it hurt him to know that Legolas and I had that kind of relationship. Well... of course we did. We were married. He had to get used to it.

Wait, did he just say he'd stay with me overnight?

"Oh no, we are not-" Pity was swallowed by my anger. Did he just suggest HE'D sleep with me instead? What, was this a time share thing, Legolas during the day and Boromir at night? "I'm not sleeping with you."

I wished I hadn't said it so bluntly and with so much anger. Boromir flinched, hurt across his face, his body actually reacting as if I'd struck him. He didn't let go of me though. If I had thought the face before was bad... this one made me want to kiss him, or something, just to get the more familiar smile back. Kissing him was rejected fast. Maybe tweaking his nose.

"Not for that. Wenduin, but …" Boromir gritted his teeth, eyes to the door, voice soft all over again. The look on his face and the tone of his voice disarmed my anger a moment. Something was wrong. "If you were my wife and it were up to me, I could not lie to you, but I..."

"What?!" Lie to me? What the hell was he on about?

"Do not sleep with Legolas at night." He was right up against me all over again, grasping my arms, bent over me, face mere inches from mine. Boromir was pleading, face tense, eyes fixed in mine. "I will remain close. You are safer without him close. I beg you, my love, to listen to this. If you listen to nothing else I say to you, listen to this, and stay safe."

Nothing about this made any sense. Nothing. He was acting like I was still in danger when the whole 'ring' thing was over. Wasn't it? I was baffled and a little taken back by this. No one else had seemed that stressed. Not Legolas, not Aragorn, no one. Yet here Boromir was slapping me over the head with the same anxious warning he'd had pre-ring destruction. Was he going crazy? Even if there were Orc roaming around, which was probably very likely, there was no chance they'd reach me up here.

"Boromir, I'm not in danger." And Legolas was hardly going to endanger me anyway. If anything Boromir should have been glad about Legolas hanging around. "What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing. Just heed my warning." A lie. A flat out lie. He looked away as he'd said it. Boromir could never lie to my face. He hated it, I knew that, and I saw the self-loathing openly displayed even now. "I swear to protect you. Any way I must."

Okay. Yeah. I was kind of afraid that he was loosing his mind now. This feeling was kind of cemented when he glanced over his shoulder, as if he was expecting some kind of danger, hands clenching hard on my arms.

He yawned, such a sudden and unexpected thing for him to do that I blinked, and saw for a moment this incredible exhaustion in Boromir's face. Wait. Was this all because he was just … tired?

"Haven't you been sleeping?" I asked. I noticed my voice had gotten softer. "Boromir? Are you all right?"

Boromir shook his head. " I have not been able to sleep well. I am tired and nightmares wake me constantly."

Nightmares. Tired.

"How long have you been like this?" I tried to push him again, hard, but Boromir refused to let go of my arms. He just stood there and stared at me. "Boromir, don't lie to me."

"Since the path of the dead." His shoulders slumped as he admitted it. "I have slept badly since then. Not at all since my behaviour towards you last."

I sighed. All my lasting anger faded at Boromir. Before he'd left Minas Tirith he'd told me that it had been worse than he'd admitted to Faramir. I hadn't even given it a lasting thought since. But it must have scared him badly and … I hadn't even thought about that. Or how it was affecting him. I couldn't even begin to know how it'd feel to be lost in a pitch black cave like that, not to mention being lost in one filled with skulls and murderous sadistic ghosts that wanted to kill anything alive.

"You were drunk and tired. And stupid. But you said sorry. So … apology accepted." At least from me. Legolas might have needed some more convincing. I wasn't sure- he had never made his feelings about Boromir that clear to me- but if he'd dangled Boromir off Minas Tirith then he clearly hadn't been impressed. "Now, let go of my arms."

This time when I tried to get his hands off my arms, he let me, and all it seemed to take was for me to be gentle. When I pushed or shoved the man, he pushed and shoved back, but … now, as I took his hand and gently led him towards the bed, he actually followed meekly like a tired child who'd had enough of resisting.

"Come on, Boromir." I muttered. His hand tightened around mine as I slowly pushed him towards the bed. "Lie down and have a sleep. When you've slept, then we'll talk, and I'll tell Legolas to let you spend time with me again."

Even as I said the words I regretted saying them, I knew this was going to screw with my mind and annoy Legolas, but the relief on Boromir's face was enough to push that other anxiety away for now. He actually smiled again, a tired worn smile, and lifted my hand to kiss the back of it.

"I do not know if I will sleep long but... thank you."

"Just give it a go. I'll be here." Legolas could do his meeting thing alone, I supposed. There were a bunch of books over on the table. Surely no one would mind if I read them carefully while Boromir had a nap.

Legolas may not have liked this but if Boromir was tired, no wonder why he was behaving weird, and ...well, I was his friend. I didn't even look at him when he tugged his leather tunic off. Out of the corner of my eye I saw he had another thing, some thin shirt, underneath. Phew. He wasn't stripping off everything.

"You will remain?"

"It might help you sleep." I responded. I knew that Aragorn had that effect on me last night. "I'll read."

"You can read?" He sounded faintly impressed as he rested down on his side in my bed. Boromir sighed as his body suddenly relaxed. "It smells of you here. There is no sweeter scent, not in flower or perfume, no smell that eases my heart as this does. Nay. There was one."

"Oh?" I kind of didn't want to know who it was. I already had a bad feeling that I knew who he was going to say. I moved to sit down at the table covered in books, avoiding his eyes, feeling them burn into the side of my face.

"My mother."

Damn. I knew he'd say that.

"You are fair, my lady, and light in heart. I did not know I was dead until I found you. Now..." His body was relaxing, and when I stole a look his eyes were shut, face relaxing, voice softer and sleepy. "...I feel as if I am awakening. As a man living content in eternal night who sees the sun rise for the first time. The warmth of your presence fills my heart."

My face heated, but he seemed happy, content, his eyes shutting. Damn him. Saying sweet things. "Oh... shut up and go to sleep."

"My foul mouthed sunrise." He laughed, a soft chuff of noise, and the genuine smile broke out across his face once more, lines everywhere, big smile lines that suited Boromir a hell of a lot more than the sadness or anxiety I'd seen on his face. This was the kind of face he needed to keep. I wished he'd smile like that for the rest of his life. "I will sleep."

Not his foul mouthed anything. Except friend. But I didn't open my mouth. He seemed too close to sleep to start another argument or something. Within minutes he seemed to be asleep, his breathing slowed, and I groaned softly.

Legolas was not going to like this.

He'd have to deal with it though. If the problem was that Boromir was struggling to sleep then ...well, maybe I could talk to everyone. The whole Fellowship. Maybe he needed company. This didn't just have to be me. What did people call it? Post traumatic stress syndrome? It was probably not that surprising. Hell- he'd probably seen enough battle to have it anyway, and the pitch black cave might have just brought it on worse.

I was still thinking about it when Legolas returned. I held my finger to my lips, shaking my head as he glanced at the knife in his belt, and he raised one eyebrow. I slid to my feet slowly and grasped Legolas' hand, drawing him into the balcony outside my room, closing the door a little.

"Did he hurt you?" Legolas bent low, kissing me carefully, his hands running up and down my arms. "Or did you find him there?

"No. I asked him to have a sleep. I think he's ..." God, how did I explain this. "I think all the things that have happened have put his mind in a bad ...strain. We call it post traumatic stress syndrome. It means he's struggling." I noticed I didn't mention the kiss. Guilt trickled in. I'd do it later when Boromir had rested. Better later. Legolas would probably make him leave now if I told him.

"But this is not your duty to heal, my love."

I felt relief as Legolas embraced me, leaning against him, relieved that he wasn't angry with me or storming in to wake Boromir. Okay. He may not have stormed in. Legolas didn't 'storm' anywhere, really, he was the usual picture of calm. He stroked my back slowly. "Should we find his brother?"

"Let the poor man sleep."

"I do not know if this is wise." Legolas said quietly. "His feelings for you will extend his suffering if you continue to show him warmth."

"I know." My heart sank. I wanted to make Boromir happy too. The very idea of having to break his heart, or having to separate from him completely, this thought suddenly broke my heart. I didn't want him to be hurt. "I was thinking he might need the help of everyone. The whole Fellowship."

"I agree with you."

We stood there a few minutes, his slow heartbeat against my ear, arms tight around me. When I released him, Legolas sighed softly, and leaned down to kiss me slowly, tender.

"I should go back. I promised to be there when he woke."

"I will read in the library beside your room." There was a library beside my room? Legolas released me reluctantly. "There I may hear if you call through the stone."

"Do you need any of the books?"

"There are others I can look through." He kissed my forehead before he moved away. "We will talk later. Bring me my tunic. I will repair it now, so that later we may spend time alone together with no distractions."

With that promise, he vanished, his clothing over one arm and attention ahead.

Lunch came, I went into the hall for it, and Boromir continued to sleep even as I sat there eating. It was so quiet, he barely moved, clearly dreaming as he made soft noises against the pillow he grasped tightly.

I kept finding myself staring at him, having to look away, and ended up reading some long book that kind of bored me. It was difficult to read it- the writing was special, curved, the words spelt strangely. I got the basic idea though. It was one of the older records of Middle Earth- something about species that had been found. Other 'men'. Someone had just recorded every last myth, story and rumour they'd been told and had sorted it into race specific groups. It couldn't have been fully accurate either- when I came to the part about Elves there were several references to them being cannibals or sleeping with their daughters. That to look upon a bathing elf maiden in a river would blind a man and curse his line to have blind children. Stupid things. The kinds of things that showed that some people had been pretty ignorant about Elves.

But then, I supposed most humans didn't actually get to meet an Elf, so rumours like these probably floated around all over the place.

A soft snort from the door made me jump. Irati stood there, arms crossed, a canvus bag in one hand.

"It's fine." I said, quietly, before she could open her mouth.

"Here." Irati held the bag out to me. "Food."

"I had some lunch..." I took it, arm sagging as the heavy bag was dropped into my hand, and opened it. Fresh fruit and vegetables A lot of it, actually.

"You eat two apples a day, two carrots, and six strawberries." Irati kept her voice soft, to my surprise, but she came in and shut the door. "So eat some now. Those are the first strawberries of spring. You are lucky- it is a good time of year to be pregnant."

If she said so.

"I will remain too." Irati added, sitting down in the chair across the room, and crossed her arms. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "You should not be alone with him."

"Legolas is within ear range."

"You should not be alone with the Prince Legolas either." Irati scolded. "Till you marry through the customs of Gondor. I will be an escort at all times."

Oh bloody hell. I needed that time. I made a mental note to talk to Aragorn about this as soon as possible.

Irati pulled out some fabric and started to sew, this presence in the room that I couldn't avoid noticing, and I found myself staring at Boromir a hell of a lot less now.

When he woke, I felt it, and our eyes met as he opened his. A slow lazy smile crossed his face, the expression of someone who had really slept, and he stretched slowly.

"My dreams were only of you and your foul mouth, my lady."

"Boromir, that is highly inappropriate. Apologise!"

The look on Boromir's face was priceless as he heard Irati. The lazy grin was wiped off his face replaced by something closer to 'Oh shit'. He sat up fast and slid out of my bed, this guilty look all over his face, though he crossed his arms and tried to hide it. "Tis not as bad as …"

"Sleeping in an unmarried woman's bed!"

"She offered and besides, she is marri-"

"Not in our customs and not to you!" Irati slammed her bag, the one with knives and all, across his head. Boromir yelped and backed off, hands up, the elderly woman approaching him. "As you know! The reputation of Gondor's Princess should be held intact!"

Yeah, apparently I was a virgin waiting to be wed, never mind the fact that I was already pregnant. I snorted softly, as Boromir met my eyes, and he grinned.

His grin got another painful sounding whack with her bag.

"She treated me with all the dignity of a lady. A drink, an apple, but..." Boromir glanced behind him at the day. "But the apple is not enough. I'm starving. What is for dinner?"

As he said this, the door opened, and three men strode in. Faramir, arms crossed, half amused and half exasperated. Aragorn and Legolas. Neither seemed that stressed though and as Irati honed in on Boromir for another whack, I swore I saw some kind of smug satisfaction on Faramir's face, like he was enjoying this. Maybe he'd been the one to send her in.

"Did you not agree to give Wenduin some time alone while she was here in her condition?" Faramir asked lightly.

"I may have suggested..."

"I believe those were your exact words." Aragorn cut in before Boromir could continue.

In her condition. This was how people tended to refer to my pregnancy, I noticed, and I wasn't even showing yet. It was like I had the flu. Faramir didn't come in though. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, and glanced over his shoulder.

But no one had the effect on Boromir that Irati did right now. Irati was incredible. She fixed him with this look, this indescribable look of power that had the big man squirm. She asked, "Did you lie?"

"No..." Boromir muttered sheepishly. He actually slumped down in a chair with that guilty child expression. "But-" He actually glanced over his shoulder at the window as if tempted to climb back out again. "I had to apologise."

"Then sleep in her bed."

"I did offer..."

No one seemed to listen to me. Apparently this wasn't relevant.

I crossed my arms now as Irati continued, "And sneak in here while her fiance was just two rooms away! Like a barbarian! Come. I have in mind exactly your punishment and will make sure that all your friends see it."

"I am a grown man of forty and one and the Captain of Gondor. I cannot be seen being punished..."

"And you may think of this as you are made to clean each and every chamberpot within the soldier barracks within Minas Tirith." Irati grasped him by the ear, even though she was a good foot smaller than him, and literally dragged the big man towards the door.

A guard rushed in, sudden, and froze a few feet in. Excitement was across his face, his voice ringing out as he called, "My Lord! Gandalf sends for the Fellowship! Frodo awakens!"

A/N Hey guys. :D NaNoWriMo is coming up and I may write slower during November. Maybe not! Maybe I'll write even MORE (as I struggle with writer's block with whatever I'm writing. lol)