A/N Day three of being snowed in. Still, way better than the last storm that went on for three whole weeks. Not even joking.

Anyway, HAVE SOME FEELZ

There's a lot of them in here.

ENJOY

Josephine burst into Aragorn's study and shut the door behind her, interrupting the work that was spread out all over his desk. He looked up at her, more amused at her entrance than anything.

"I'm going to lose my goddamn mind." She told him as she crossed the room to stare out the window. "Honestly, if I have to listen to one more dwarf try to explain counterweights to me-" She stopped herself and took a deep breath. "I know they've been building things at least as long as I've been alive but I'm not exactly a hobbyist either. I did go to school for this."

Josephine allowed herself one more huff of annoyance before putting her hands on her hips and turning back to Aragorn, who was still at his desk and just watching her with a bemused smile.

"What?"

He got up and joined her, slipping an arm around her waist and bringing them back to looking out the window, the fields of Pelennor rippling through the wavy glass. "I enjoy your passion for such things. I know with that and the expertise of our guests from Erebor we will have a fine gate for our city."

Josephine laid her head against his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. She knew the War was over, more definitively than anyone did, but not having a proper gate to the city made her nervous all the same. "Not soon enough for my taste."

Aragorn frowned and glanced down at her but she avoided it. "And not because of the dwarves it would seem." He pulled away and hooked his finger under her chin to draw her eye. "Why does the gate trouble you so?"

Things had been good, and getting better and better as time passed. They were falling into a routine and enjoying being newly wed, there was no reason to dwell on the War. But she did. She couldn't help herself. Pelennor would sometimes turn black in her mind, writhing like it was covered in insects while balls of flame fell from the sky. She could still feel the roads shake beneath her feet and smell black orc blood on her hands, but that made her no different than anyone who'd been in Minas Tirith during the siege.

"I know the Rammas is repaired, and the temporary door is secure enough in case of an emergency. I think I'll just feel better when we can close off the city with mithril instead of bare wood."

Aragorn looked at her sympathetically and brushed her cheek with his hand. "We are safe here, and you have said yourself that if battle does eventually come to our walls again, it will not be for a very long time.

"I know, I do. It's just…" Nothing that she could ever manage to hide from him so why was she trying? "The battles are still too fresh in my mind, I can't quite shut it off. It's been months, sometimes when I wake up I swear I can still hear the Nazgul circling the city." She confessed.

Worried but not necessarily surprised, Aragorn led her to his chair and knelt in front of her with his hands covering hers.

"I just want to move on. The War is over, it's been over."

"That matters not. Josephine, meleth nin, your heart will heal in its own time, you cannot force it."

She wanted to believe him, but it didn't feel like that was the case, if anything it seemed like it had gotten worse since things had calmed down. Of course that was how some people handled stuff like that, wasn't it? Sometimes it was during, sometimes after? Why couldn't it have been during so she could've gotten it all out of the way in one go?

"You fought three near hopeless battles in as many weeks." He rationalized for her and placed his hand flat against her chest, fingers brushing her collarbone. "A wound can also be borne here, and in that there is no shame."

Josephine squeezed her eyes shut and let her head drop, feeling like the warmth of his hand was spreading through her body. "I don't wanna be scared anymore." She whispered, the loudest tone she could manage.

"Josephine, vanimelda del caru." Aragorn got to his feet and pulled her towards him, arms wrapped around her tightly with his hand stroking her hair. "I will do all in my power to make that so.

"Oh come now Josephine, just a little?" Bilbo asked good naturedly, holding two bare branches in his hand while they stood in a small clearing. "It's not like you don't know what you're doing."

Josephine shook her head. "If you want sword lessons I'm sure Dwalin could teach you, and he'd do a much better job than me."

"I don't want lessons from Dwalin, I want lessons from you. If I go to those dwarves and ask them to show me they'll laugh in my face."

"No they won't!" She argued. "And even if they do, coming for training might be the thing that gets them to respect you more. Same thing happened to me once." Well, Boromir hadn't outright laughed in her face but he had definitely been less than enthusiastic about it.

"Or you could just show me a thing or two so I don't accidentally cut my nose off with my sword and we could avoid anyone laughing in anybody's face." He planted the longer of the two branches in the ground in front of him like a walking stick and stared her down.

Josephine couldn't say no to him, she'd begged Boromir to avoid asking the elves and Bilbo was asking her to avoid asking the dwarves. And he was right, she could at least teach him how not to cut his nose off with his sword.

"Okay fine!" She said in mock anger, making a show of flinging her hands in the air and taking the stick from him all while they shared a grin.

Channeling her inner Boromir minus the more annoying bits, Josephine got to work explaining to Bilbo the same things she'd been taught down on the training field. They were at it for over an hour when Bilbo's ears twitched and he looked over at some bushes just down the heavily wooded path from where they stood.

"Everything okay?" She asked him.

"Oh it's fine, we just have a bit of a spy at the moment." He said with a smile and cleared his throat. "Well come on out then, don't be shy."

From the bushes popped a dark head of hair and the small, round face of a ten year old boy and he ran up to them with a giant smile. "Hello Mr. Bilbo!"

"Hello!" Bilbo replied. "Not running from your lessons again, are you? I know your mother will be extremely cross if you are."

Josephine's hand clenched around her makeshift sword and she thought her heart might beat so fast she'd pass out, but she couldn't tear her eyes away. Wind was rushing in her ears and she could barely hear them speaking over it, but all she could do was stand there.

"Ah! Estel, this is my dear friend…" He trailed off like he was about to say her name but thought better of it since the council.

Estel bent stiffly in a bow and said formally. "My lady."

When Bilbo looked at her expecting a response, his face fell. "Are you-"

"Estel!" Gilraen's voice rang out and she came around the corner, pinning the boy with a stiff glare and her hands on her hips. "Lord Erestor has been looking for you for nearly an hour."

"But mother, Mr. Bilbo-"

"Has his own things to attend to, now run along." She held her arm out to the path towards the library and watched Estel shuffled off until he was out of sight. "My apologies Mr. Baggins, Lady Seer."

"Oh, that's quite all right." Bilbo smoothed over, glancing over and over at Josephine from the corner of his eye, drawing Gilraen's attention as well. "Josephine?"

"I have to go." She mumbled, dropping the branch and backing away from them. After several steps she wasn't moving fast enough and turned. She should've hidden it better, running would only make them more curious, but it was the only thing she could think to do. The adrenalin crashing over her like a wave pushed her faster over stone paths and around surprised elves. From one end of the valley to another she ran until she found herself along the grove by the river where she used to swim, hidden away by branches and bushes.

She bent over, hands on her knees, and tried to catch her breath and muffle the sob that bubbled up in her throat. That had been why she didn't want to see him, to know that he was so close but still miles and miles away and see it with her own eyes. To know she couldn't leave so much as a memory of herself that could come to him when they met, in case he followed his curiosity as to why she'd been there.

Footsteps followed her through the grass and she looked up to find herself face to face with Gilraen, who was breathless from running after her. "You looked upon my son with grief." She said with fear in her eyes and a determination for answers. "And you will tell me why!"

Josephine shook her head and straightened back up. "It's not what you think."

"If you know who we are then you know what danger he is in, I ask of no other fate except his own. I only wish to protect him!"

"So do I!" Josephine yelled, overwhelmed with the strain of seeing Estel and having to fight a battle against someone she had no desire to mislead.

Gilraen's voice rose to match her. "Then tell me! I was content to leave you in peace until I saw the way you looked at him. I have already lost my husband to this world, I will not lose my son!"

"You won't lose him!" Josephine gave up. She couldn't bear standing there and arguing with Gilraen, and she didn't want to. Gilraen would spend the rest of her days in Rivendell and so long as she didn't tell Aragorn then…Then maybe nothing would change.

Relief came over Gilraen's face and her shoulders relaxed as a tear made its way down her cheek. "He will not be killed?"

Josephine shook her head. "No." Because she would be there in the river to find him. "He'll live a long life."

Silence fell between them while Gilraen took it all in, finding solace in it just like Lord Elrond had.

Pressing her lips into a tight line, Josephine wiped a shaking hand under her eyes.

And then Gilraen looked at her in a way that made Josephine nervous. Too knowing, too sure of something. "Why then, do you weep for him?"

"Because I miss him." Josephine wanted to hold it together, but she wasn't sure she'd be able to, not after the past several weeks, not with what was ahead of her. "Because I love him." She answered, shrugging as if to say she gave up on hiding it. "We'll have been married for two years on Midsummer's day." A day only two weeks from then, one they'd spend departing from Rivendell to the Misty Mountains.

Gilraen's obvious suspicions were confirmed and she didn't seem entirely surprised. The corners of her mouth curled into a smile that lit up her face and she walked towards Josephine slowly.

Josephine wasn't prepared as Gilraen wrapped her arms around her and drew her tightly into her chest, both their hearts pounding.

"How lucky I am then, that fate has brought you to me." She whispered to Josephine. "And what hope it offers."

Josephine held onto her, too comforted by Gilraen knowing to worry if it was the right thing to tell her or not. It was like a part of her was given a place to rest that was her own, without any kind of reputation or grave silence to uphold.

When they finally pulled away, Gilraen wiped the tears from Josephine's face and then her own. "You must forgive me my joy, I know it's come at great cost to you."

Exhausted, Josephine sat down on the grass facing the river and waited for Gilraen to join her. "If the Valar don't send me back to him after this, I don't know what I'll do." She picked at the grass and looked up at the sky warily, like the Valar were up there judging every action she took.

"It has been eight years, and I still grieve for his father. If that does come to pass, so you will grieve, but you will carry on nonetheless."

Both of them had been taken from the one they loved. The difference was, Josephine still had the hope of seeing Aragorn again. After writing her letter to him, her hope had faded. With everything ahead of them she was afraid she wouldn't even survive, let alone manage to save the sons of Durin, and beyond that be granted a trip back to her Minas Tirith. It seemed like an almost impossible set of tasks.

Gilraen turned to face her and took Josephine's hand, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "The Valar have brought you here to do good things, of that I am certain. I do not believe they would be so cruel as to part you both once your task is complete."

Maybe Gilraen was right, the things that had brought them together during the War were oddly convenient. Their meeting, Arwen's departure, their walk up Cerin Amroth that left her feeling that there was something that tied them together that was beyond their understanding. He said at times that she was written in his story, in the very song of Eru itself to come to him.

"I hope you're right." Josephine said, with a strained, watery smile.