Chapter 11: In Which Luna Gets Some Sleep

Luna slowly made her way to the kitchens, the thought of rich food high in her mind after months of dried meat and gathered berries. She was not disappointed. She could smell the cooking food as an appetizer for what lay behind the doors. The Elves inside fed her immediately. Venison, roasted potatoes, bread drizzled with honey, and thick slices of tomato filled her belly, readying her for the afternoon. When she finished, she could only think to find Boromir, who was no doubt wondering about her, as she wondered about him. How long that strange feeling would last, she could not say. It would take a while to get used to separation between the two companions, she did not doubt that.

She made for the path set out by the Elf that tended her room, towards Boromir's, but did not need to go far to find him, for he stood outside, pacing on the porch of the building.

"Even behind the tall walls of this city, you are restless," she said, causing him to jump slightly. "Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you."

He waved a hand. "I was deep in thought. Elrond had left not long before now."

"I spoke to him this morning."

"Aye, he mentioned."

"Did he have any answers that you seek? Could he explain your dream?"

Boromir shook his head. "He said only that we have come to the right place to find the answers. That they will come in due time as more visitors gather here in the coming month."

"You don't seem satisfied with that."

"We do not have the time to sit and wait for answers. Gondor needs our help now. To simply sit in this haven and wait is folly."

"I suppose it matters little when you live forever. To sit and wait for time to pass must not feel to them what it is like for us."

"All the more reason to accommodate."

"Perhaps he doesn't have the answers you seek, but he knows they are coming."

"It matters not, anyways. We have no choice but to wait for these other visitors he has mentioned." He ran a hand through his thick, brown hair with a sigh. "In the meantime, what do you suppose we do?"

Luna raised an eyebrow. "We?"

"Yes," he said. "You are the only one of my countrymen I have seen and will continue to see for some time. Not only are you my countryman, you are my companion. Perhaps, maybe even now, my friend?"

Luna found herself smiling. She hadn't realized it, but yes, against all odds, Boromir was her friend now. Her only friend for many leagues. "And what ideas do you have to pass our time, friend?"

Boromir smiled. "I can think of a few things."


Luna was hardly ever idle in Rivendell. Boromir saw to that. He seemed not the type to ever sit still and relax. He was always moving, always trying to find a way forward. And Luna followed him almost every day. Now safe in a haven, they were able to find a set of sparring swords so that Boromir could properly teach Luna how to wield one. They spared most mornings. They were occasionally granted leave of the city to the outside to hunt for game, though they were warned to stay on this side of the Bruinen.

When Luna wasn't with Boromir, she was often found at the side of Bilbo Baggins, who was becoming a fast friend. The two spent many evenings in the Hall of Fire, crafting songs or sharing tales. Bilbo was in the process of writing a grand book, bound in red cloth, and while he never lent it to Luna to read on her own, he would bookmark passages to read aloud to her, often asking for her opinion.

It was the nights that crept up on her and brought her despair, for there were little distractions in the night. She would stare at the canopy above her bed, urging sleep to take her, lest her mind wander back to Minas Tirith and Dol Amroth. To her parents, Lothloriel, and Faramir. A desk in the corner of her room was well stocked with parchment and ink, but she could not find it in her to write letters. There was no courier service to deliver it anyways.

She had often contemplated writing to Eomer, but everytime the idea popped into her head, she found she had no way to execute it. What would she even say? What could she say, for she knew that all outside letters in Rohan were banned and therefore, not safe for others eyes. Anything she sent in writing to Rohan would surely pass through the eyes of Grima Wormtongue.

On a particularly bad night, she found her homesick mind drawing her towards the Hall of Fire. It was the one place in Rivendell whose doors were open to her at all times, save her restless bed chamber. Bilbo would not be there now. He had already gone to bed not long after dinner. This was not her first late-night trek to the Hall and it was always empty this late at night, unless Bilbo was there.

Tonight, however, she found a surprise. "What are you doing here?" she asked Boromir, gently shutting the door behind her.

He was pacing in front of the large hearth, but he smiled when he saw her. "You and Master Bilbo speak so highly of your time spent in this Hall. I could not sleep and decided to find refuge here for my busy mind."

Luna sat down on a cushioned bench near a warm flame. "I too could not find sleep. To be honest, I can't find it easily most nights."

"You never told me that," he said, walking towards her. He gestured at the other end of her bench.

"Please," she said, offering him the seat. "I suppose I thought if I brought it up, that would be admitting it was a problem."

"You seem to have a hard time doing that," he said. "Opening up. Admitting your weaknesses."

"I have become so used to secrets, it seems. Sometimes it is hard for me to decide what to share in my life."

"Would you tell me a secret?" he asked. "I would share one in return, of course."

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "You wish to know about my time in Rohan."

"It is just so intriguing to me, is all. The reasons you would even keep it secret are a mystery to me. Are you ashamed of it?"

"In a way, I suppose I am. You know, I have not seen his face in six summers. Our time together was only mere days. Our letters were nothing more than friendly. Yet, I think about him constantly, as his letters were one of the few constants in my life for so long."

Boromir crossed his arms and reclined, relaxing in the warm glow of the fires. "I must admit, I didn't think you would speak to me of this."

"You already know more than I ever intended anyone to know. And you have been kind to me and did not pry further after I asked you to stop. We are each other's only kinsmen here. And I must admit, it weighs on my mind to keep it bottled up. Perhaps if I share it with you, I might find some damned rest at night."

So, she told him their short story. A few quiet moments in small private corners of Edoras, the one loud and exciting night, and the five years of letters. Polite letters where nothing was exchanged beyond simple, insignificant words of care. And then, out of nowhere, the borderman of Rohan's news from Eomer himself. Learning of the bounty on her head And her horselord defied these orders and protected her regardless.

"You say he made no declarations of love," Boromir said. "Yet, he defies the orders of his King to turn you over, 'ere his position in the eoreds be forfeit. That does not sound insignificant to me."

"But that's just it," Luna said, reaching for a lock of her hair, running it between her fingers. "He never implied anything further than friendship in his letters. Why would he risk his position just for a friend?"

"Why would his uncle place a warrant for your arrest? That is the biggest mystery to me."

"It was not the king," Luna said. "There is a darkness that has overtaken the Riddermark under the name Grima Wormtongue. A noble in the Horse-king's halls that used the king's ailing mind to take control of the country. King Theoden is but his proxy."

"This you kept a secret?" Boromir exclaimed. "This is priceless information! The King of the Horselords is being manipulated by one who is meant to serve his house!"

"Would you have believed me? Eomer has no proof, therefore, neither do I. It has taken you and I an entire journey and an additional fortnight to trust each other. To have told you back when we were denied entrance to the Mark…you would have deemed me mad. A conspiracy-spreading liar."

"There is little we could have done, regardless." He paused and Luna glanced in his direction. He was staring at his hands, grasped in front of him tightly on his lap. "You haven't told me how you felt towards him. Or, how you feel rather. Now, in this moment."

"It is hard to figure that out, so far away from him, serving the White City from dawn till dusk. Do I…love him? No, I think not. After all, I hardly know him. I think I love the idea of him. Of peace from this war and calm, pleasant moments like the ones we shared all those years ago."

She shook her head, trying yet again to clear these confusing thoughts. "Well, Lord Boromir, you have heard my secret tale. I believe I was promised a secret in return."

"What would you consider a secret? I am an open book."

"You must have had something in mind that you wished to share. You would not have made the offer otherwise."

He took a short pause, his thumbs twiddling in his grasped hands. "I miss Faramir."

"He is your brother. To miss him is hardly a secret."

"The secret is, I am terrified of the world without him by my side. I have never been apart from him for this long. Ever since our mother died, we have banded together. And he is so like her, when I am around him, I can feel her spirit inside him. It is why our father favors me, or so I must assume. Faramir makes him sad, for you cannot help but see my mother inside him."

"I remember when the news came to Dol Amroth of her passing," Luna said. "It was not long after I had arrived. Prince Imrahil and the royal family wore black for three months. Lothiriel hated it. She would sneak to my house and beg to wear my clothes."

"What do you mean, 'when you arrived'?"

Luna took a small inhale. Her conversation with Elrond a fortnight ago was still engraved in her mind. While the Elf Lord had not specifically told her to continue to keep her past a secret, he had said doing so was to her benefit. And while she was finally willing to open up to Boromir after all these months, this was a secret she felt she must continue to keep, for her own safety. After all, she was constantly warned of making her origins known to Denathor. He could hardly tell his son. She had never even told Faramir.

"I know not why I said that," she said and drew out a large yawn. "Perhaps sleep is finally finding me."

"I will say goodnight then," he said, beginning to stand.

"Oh, no," she said, grabbing his forearm gently. "That is, unless you are tired. If I go back to that wretched room by myself, I will lie awake for at least two more hours. You've no idea how much this distraction is helping me."

"Well, whether I am tired or not remains to be seen after that request," he said, sitting back down. "I will stay as long as you need me, Luna."


Bilbo Baggins loved his sleep very much. Even when his great book demanded the attention of his pen and ink, if he was tired, he would sleep. Ever since he had left Bag End, his days seemed to grow shorter and shorter with the amount of time he spent resting. He needed more rest every day. He was long past beginning to feel his one hundred and twenty-eight years. But every now and then, energy would find him and he had to get up and walk.

The sun had not quite risen, but morning was near. Perhaps his new friend was in the Hall waiting for something to do? She was an early riser, despite the dark circles that were always under her eyes. Bilbo sometimes wondered if she ever got a good night's sleep with her mind so full of worry and homesickness.

He grabbed his cane and strode out his bedchamber, breathing in the dewey morning air. A tune came to his mind and he began to whistle. Perhaps Miss Luna would help him craft some words for the melody.

But alas, she would not this morning. For he saw Luna, fast asleep in the arms of Captain Boromir, who was carrying her gently from the Hall of Fire to her quarters in the east wing. Her head was nestled in the crook of the Captian's neck and his head was tilted slightly, resting on the crown of her head.

Bilbo sighed, happy to see his new friend finally get some sleep.


Luna did not stir as Boromir placed her in her bed. He pulled the duvet over her slim form and, mindlessly, as if his hands had minds of their own, he tucked the lock of silver-blond hair that had fallen over her face behind her ear. Her face held a look of pure peace, a look he had never seen her hold before and he studied her calm features as he leaned against one of the four posters of her bed. Boromir realized he had never seen her with her hair down before. She had always kept it tied at the nape of her neck, bundled as if to keep it out of sight, which Boromir now thought was a shame. It flowed over her pillows like a silver river. No, not a river. Like waves in a winter ocean. He reached to touch it again, but stopped himself and shook his head.

Whether she loved this Eomer or not, the girl was still spoken for by the Marshall of Rohan. The acts of his loyal people at Rohan's border were unmistakable to Boromir, and he had no desire to risk earning an enemy of the Horse-kingdom. He had enough enemies as it was.

With a sigh, he made for the door, but a tiny sound made him stop.

"Please…stay." she said in a small voice. Boromir turned back. She looked as if she hadn't moved, but her serene face had contorted back to that constant uncomfortable look she held, though her eyes were still closed.

And he could not refuse her.