This took so long because I was struggling with a chapter about James and the rest of the gang getting the army of ghosties onto their side, but I didn't like it no matter how many times I wrote it, so I'm excluding it.

Sorry, this took a long time. I've been working a lot, traveling a lot, and I've even been writing a lot of original work. It's been hard to write this stuff with so many other worlds forming in my mind. This story just isn't my number one priority anymore, unfortunately. BUT. I've just got a new computer, since my old one broke, and so I will hopefully be posting more stuff on here.

Anyways.

I don't own J. R. R. Tolkien's work.

(Sophie)

I'm not particularly sure how I could find joy amid such pain and suffering, but I did. Nesta had proved to be my guardian angel.

There is always some joy, even the darkest of hours. I'd thought that I'd had about all the joy that I was getting. Boromir was alive and well, Collin was fine, too, and Rohan had finally arrived. There was a renewed hope sprouting throughout the city, and a more fervent fight to survive in the already strong and determined citizens of Minas Tirith. It was a fantastic thing to experience once I got past the absolute and consuming pain of witnessing such terrible warfare. I suppose that Collin had rubbed off on me. I'd become an optimist at heart, and little Nesta had given me a lot to hope for.

The girl had turned out to be older than I thought. She was eleven, and quite smart for her age. Almost immediately upon entering the room she suggested we go find some other children in need of care. I don't know why the thought never occurred to me before, but it seemed so obvious! We were at war, and if anything produces orphans or misplaced children it's a war.

Boromir and I set out immediately. I had planned to go alone, but someone needed to stay with Nesta and Boromir refused to be the one left behind. Nesta had advised us to start looking inside the Houses of Healing, where many children had run to hide. We searched the nooks and crannies, first. Broom closets, under the stairs, behind tapestries and such. We found ten in the immediate area, and several more outside. Each and every child was taken back to Boromir's room, where Collin was quick to cheer them all with stories; some made up, and others about the very people out fighting for them. The children didn't know that, of course. We did our best to avoid talking about what was happening outside, even though many of the kids were old enough to understand war. We simply felt that all the kids, big and small, were better off forgetting reality and enjoying a few moments of inner peace.

I was still adapting to the fact that war was such a normal and close to home thing in the world. Back in America, I'd been spoiled. We didn't have to face the facts of war unless we had family in the military, and even then it was so far away. You don't always realize how lucky you have it until you're trapped behind a wall with an unbelievable horde banging on your front door. With every tear shed by a child I was hit by a terrible reality. How many of these children would be orphans? How many of their parents were orphans, and so on? Bad things happen, of course, I'm not ignorant. Seeing things first hand, however, always has the tendency to wake you up, even if you didn't know you were asleep.

The children made me feel strong again, like I was doing something important. No matter how small a task it seemed, seeing their smiles in such a terrible time made me feel warm inside. I loved it.

"So you see, everything turned out alright!" Collin exclaimed, finishing off a strange story about a dragon who befriended a horse, which I was against telling since dragons really did exist in this world. In any case, the children enjoyed it, even if they were given the wrong idea about dragons. He told hist stories in a very loud and excited manner, doing his best to block out any sounds of war that may have leaked into the room.

I stood at the balcony door, trying to pretend that I didn't have my ear pressed up against the wood. I was trying to listen for a hint of what was going outside, but I felt blind. The wooden door was too thick to hear anything, especially with Collin's loud voice booming through the room. I felt like a man at a gathering he was forced to attend, who keeps stealing away with every other man to watch the big game in secret. Only this wasn't a tea party, I wasn't a man, and technically television didn't even exist. Yet.

Just as Collin began to relay a child-friendly version of Greek mythology, Boromir slipped into the room. He'd been going mad with worry, so to give him a sense of duty Collin and I had sent him off to raise the morale of the dying and wounded just rooms away. Even though he'd put on a fantastic poker face for the children, I could tell that something about him was off.

"I hope that you haven't been peeking." I said as he moved to stand at my side. Had he not peeked, he might have chuckled. Of course, he did peek.

"I couldn't help myself." He sighed. "How would you feel if your city were burning?"

I shook my head. He knew very well that he was only making matters worse for himself. "This became my city the moment I decided to marry you. What's yours is mine, and you know very well that I am hurting for our people."

Boromir frowned, his brow seemingly permanently wrinkled with stress. "Then why are we doing nothing?"

"We are doing something." I retorted in a whisper, my frustration growing. "You know just as well as I do that you're lucky to be up and moving, let alone alive. For now this is all we can do. When the battle is over and we have won, I will go to the lower levels and help with whatever I can, but you need to rest. You are doing more than enough- you shouldn't even be out of bed."

For a moment I wished that he would have stayed asleep so that I wouldn't have to fuss over him, and so that he wouldn't have to suffer. As soon as the thought came, however, it was gone, and shame took its place. How could I ever think of such a thing? It wasn't true, and I knew it. Just as I'd said, Boromir was lucky to be alive and I was beyond joyous that he was alright. I loved him dearly, and realized that perhaps my words had been too strong. No, there's no doubt that they were too much. What thoughts were running through his mind? Only a few men survived the rush to Osgiliath, and it was by God's grace that Collin was stubborn enough to go after them and strong enough to survive. What guilt Boromir would have... It did not matter that his father gave the order, Boromir would take full responsibility. He loved his people so much, he would take each death personally. No wonder he was so eager to do something. It was not his stubbornness that pushed him forward, it was his guilt. He needed to do something to make it right, to somehow ease the pain.

Unfortunately, such a pain could only be healed by time. Love, and time.

"I'm sorry..." I sighed, regretting what I thought to be a harsh tone in my earlier comments. "I know that this is hard for you, and I don't pretend to know what you're going through." I turned to him and gave him a small smile. "I'm proud of you, you know."

A flash of surprise crossed Boromir's face. "Even after my recent actions?" He asked. "Even after I left you with only a note to say goodbye?"

"Of course." I replied, and it was true. "You are a great man. You were very brave to take your brother's place. There is no greater love than that of a man willing to die to sacrifice himself for others." When Boromir smiled I felt the need to add something. "Just don't do it again."

He laughed, then, and gave a nod in Collin's direction. "You're criticizing me, when Collin's the man with a death wish?"

"I'll have to give him a talking to when this is all over." And believe me, I would. For a moment I focused on the room of children, and was a bit relieved when I realized that they hadn't heard our conversation. Instead, they were listening intently to Collin as he tried to explain why Zeus had so many kids with different mothers. The older, more knowledgeable children snickered while the younger, more innocent ones listened on in frustration. "I'm glad we had this talk with a bunch of kids in the room."

Boromir chuckled, but his smile quickly fell. "We're not doing well." He said quietly. "Not as well as I would hope. There's a new enemy on the field. Mumakil. They are great beasts, like the elephants from the zoo on Collin's camera. Only bigger. Much bigger."

My heart sank. Back in the ancient days elephants were dangerous enough. I could hardly imagine the damage that a giant elephant could make. "Do we still have a chance, at least?"

"Perhaps." He sighed.

Though the day would stretch on for what felt like years, things got better. Despite all of Boromir's anxiousness, and Collin's seemingly endless amount of stories for the handful of sleepy, hungry children, one of Collin's philosophies continued to prove true. The good guys would always win.

Sorry again this took so long.

For any of you Elder Scrolls fans, I'm writing a story for that and you should check it out.