A.N. Still feeling horrible about putting you all through all of this. _ This is why I should write most of the story out first before I put it up. Sigh. However, I'm liking the direction of this a whole lot more than the two drafts I had going before, and can actually see how this would continue to the end. There's hope. Ha. Thank you, eternally, from the bottom of my heart, for sticking with me! On another note, I hope you are all doing well. The current situation with the pandemic can be frightening, and divisive to the point of violence. It can also be difficult in isolation with our lives upended. My love and prayers go out to all of you. Stay safe.
Disclaimer: I own nothing except my original characters and plot points.

They rode as hard, and as long as their horses would allow. When they reached Rohan, they stopped long enough to buy some new horses, and then were on their way again. Gandalf seemed to get more and more anxious as they got closer to Minas Tirith. Danica, also, felt as though they were riding toward the answers they sought. However, her mind kept returning to the dream where she had jumped from the top of the city. She could still feel the way her body had shattered, and had no wish to stand at that spot again. Unfortunately, the moment they reached the city, they were met by a guard, and informed that the Steward wished to speak with them. Gandalf and Danica shared an ominous look. They had purposefully used her false name to avoid detection. The last thing they needed was word getting out that she was alive and in Minas Tirith. Perhaps this Steward just wished to speak with Gandalf.

Cold sweat slid down Danica's brow and spine as they climbed ever higher. Once they reached the top, she could still appreciate how magnificent the view was, even as she resolved to remain a safe distance from the edge. The hall they were brought into was grander than any human dwelling she'd ever seen. Nothing could compare to Erebor, but this place was truly spectacular. White marble made up the floor and walls, and made even the softest footstep sound like the shoe was made of wood. Large, carved, marble statues in the likeness of the past kings stared with stern, noble countenances. Three men waited at the end of the hall. One of them was sitting, with the other two standing tall on either side. The resemblance was enough that Danica knew they must be related.

"Welcome, Gandalf, to my hall," the sitting man declared, spreading his hands. "And to the Dreamwalker, Danica, Queen Under the Mountain; it is an honor to have you here. We are pleased to see you alive, considering the tales of your demise. I am Lord Denethor, Steward of Gondor. This is my son and heir, Boromir,"

The man to Denethor's left gave a bow, as well as a bright, infections grin. He was handsome, and held all the nobility of his father, as well as the kindness which Denethor lacked.

"This is Captain Faramir," the last introduction was cold, and left Danica floundering. The second man, Faramir, was also clearly Denethor's son, and he was spoken of like a nuisance. Boromir's grin had faded. Faramir smiled gently, and bowed. Danica gave him the warmest smile she could.

"Thank you, my lord, for your warm welcome," she replied, addressing Denethor. "It is an honor to meet all of you, and behold your beautiful city. If I may; how did you know of my identity?" she was sure Gandalf was wondering the same thing.

Denethor gave what she was sure he thought was a charming smile. "A lord has to know what is happening within his own walls, has he not? Now, what brings the pair of you to my door?"

Gandalf explained at least a little of the dark forces hunting Danica, and said that he wished to do some research of his own. Denethor granted them access to any part of the library they may require, so long as they lodged in his home for the duration of their stay. Though it made her uneasy, Danica agreed. Clapping his hands, Denethor proclaimed that he would have a marvelous dinner prepared for them all, and that they could visit the library the following morning. Then, he dismissed Faramir to his duties, and had Boromir lead Gandalf and Danica to their rooms.

"Is Faramir your brother?" Danica asked once they were out of the hall.

Boromir sighed. "I suppose I should not be surprised that you would ascertain as much. Yes, he is my younger brother. He and my father have a…difficult relationship. Faramir does his best to please our father, and I do mine to love him enough for both my father, and myself,"

Something began tapping on the back of her mind. She knew it was her memory, but she couldn't take the time to focus on it now.

"Your brother is lucky to have you," she commented, taking Boromir by surprise.

"Thank you," he replied. "You are very kind,"

It was clear that he did not fully agree with her assessment, which broke her heart. What tragedy had befallen this family to tear them apart like this? Judging by the absence of a lady in the hall, and then the home, when they entered it, she assumed the tear began with Lord Denethor's wife. Turning her focus to the home, she saw that it, too, was grand, and no expense had been spared in the furnishings, even if they were lacking in color. It not only spoke of status, but of the desire, or delusion of greater status that that which existed. Danica felt uncomfortable in the place, as if she was walking into her own prison cell. Cold shivers ran down her spine, but she pushed them away. So long as Gandalf was with her, she would be safe. Thankfully, their rooms ended up being right next to one another, which helped ease her anxiety.

Boromir left them to clean up from the road before dinner. Danica had barely managed to wash her face and change into different clothes before Gandalf came knocking. She quickly opened the door, eager to hear what Gandalf had thought about what transpired in the hall.

"How did he know who I was?" she asked immediately.

"I do not know," Gandalf replied, brows drawn into a single, stern line. "There is your spear, but I cannot imagine people would automatically assume that a young woman with a spear is a legend who supposedly died more than half a century ago. No, someone who has information they shouldn't told Denethor. As of right now, I have no idea who may have told him, or how,"

"It feels dangerous here," Danica admitted. "I feel like a rabbit who's been lured into a fox den,"

Gandalf grumbled something unintelligible. "It would surprise me if you felt at ease," he then said. "Gondor has long lived in the shadow of Mordor's wrath, and has been the front line against it. You and your abilities could be considered a great weapon against the orcs. There is no doubt in my mind that Denethor wants to keep you here as such a weapon. It was for this reason that I wanted to keep your identity secret,"

The panicked need to run was strong in Danica's gut, but they still had work to do. So, she focused on something else.

"The brothers, Boromir and Faramir seemed familiar to me. They have something to do with whatever is coming,"

Gandalf's eyes were clear and shrewd. "That would make sense. Even if the two were not so duty-bound, Denethor would surely push them into such important events. Make sure he has a hand in it all. Do you remember what their role was?"

Danica shook her head. "I was going to try and look into it tonight,"

"Just be careful," Gandalf warned. "As you said; we are in the fox's den, and you can see the lion's from here,"

Dinner was delicious, and uncomfortable. Denethor's eyes were piercing, and greedy. They proved Gandalf's theory, and Danica's fears true. Denethor had no intention of letting her leave his city. The brothers must have known something, because even their conversation seemed stilted. When Denethor asked her to sing, it made her feel somehow dirty, but she obliged. For some reason, she chose "The Hanging Tree." As the meaning became clearer, their host's eyes hardened. He knew that she suspected him, and thus began the chess game. She could only hope that her dreams could help her stay a few moves ahead until she could escape.

With that in mind, she asked for a glass of spiced wine before bed to calm herself. She needed to get to sleep so she could get answers. If Thorin was there, it would mean another set of eyes, though he wouldn't be at all pleased with the situation. It pained her to keep secrets, but if he knew the entirety of her circumstances, he would try to come and rescue her. Denethor had yet to ask about Thorin, and Danica wished to hide his identity until he was safely in Erebor. A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

"Come in," she called, assuming it was someone with the wine. She had offered to get it herself, but Denethor wouldn't hear of it, and had commanded a maid to do it. When Danica opened the door, the maid was holding a steaming mug of tea instead.

"Forgive me, my lady, but I thought you may like some spiced tea. I hope you do not mind me taking the liberty," the apology was given meekly, with the maid's dark eyes remaining on the tray in her hands.

The scent wafting up from the tea was so divine, Danica forgot all about the wine. "It smells wonderful, thank you,"

After taking the tea, she thought the maid would have left, but she remained with the tray. She was a kind-looking young woman, probably in her early twenties. Her hair was auburn, and some of the curliest Danica had ever seen.

"I also brought a mixture of dried leaves with some peppermint. You can put it next to your bed. It will help you sleep,"

Curious, Danica wrapped a hand around the cloth bundle. Peppermint was not the only scent that came up, but it soothed her, and made her eyes grow heavy. It reminded her of when she would use essential oils at home.

"This was very kind of you, thank you," Danica said, smiling warmly. "My stomach has been unsettled recently,"

The maid bobbed her head, and scurried off. Danica couldn't help but notice how odd the encounter was. She made a mental note to seek the girl out the next day and speak with her. Closing the door, Danica took the mug and bundle, and slid under the sheets of the bed. After only a few sips of the tea, her body and mind felt completely relaxed. Closing her eyes, she tried to focus on Boromir and Faramir as she fell asleep.

The room was dimly lit, the air heavy with grief. Two young boys stood on either side of a large bed, upon which a woman lay. She was very still, with the shadow of death upon her thin, pale face. Each breath came further and further apart, and took a great deal of effort. Once, this woman would have been a great beauty, but now, that beauty could only be seen in her sons.

"Please, Mama. Please don't die," the smaller boy sobbed. His brother stood silent, face determinedly stoic. A few tears betrayed his efforts.

Very slowly, the woman opened her eyes, and lifted a hand to stroke her youngest son's face. "Be brave, Faramir. I love you with all that I am. Your father loves you as well. One day, he will remember it,"

Faramir collapsed, his head dropping to the bed. His mother's hand rested on his head, then she turned to Boromir, who watched his mother intently.

"Boromir, I am sorry to leave you with such a heavy burden. Watch over your brother, and love him as I would. I am so proud of both of you, and love you more than you will ever know," she went silent for a while longer, and when she spoke again, Danica couldn't make out every word, but heard something about the sea. A few minutes later, and she was gone.

A man came into the room, and silently walked to the bed. He stared down at the woman's body, took a deep breath, and then pulled Boromir into his arms. While father and son took comfort in each other, Faramir clutched his mother's hand, sobbing silently. Danica had to work to keep her own tears silent. The scene faded, followed by numerous images of Boromir doing whatever he could to show his brother love, and convince their father to do the same. His pleas fell on deaf ears. Denethor saw no use for the "spare." Danica's heart ached painfully, even as she wished to slap Denethor into the next world. Though her parents had not been nearly so cruel, watching Faramir go through his life ignored reminded her of her own childhood.

Danica was the younger sister, and often in the shadow of the elder. Unlike Boromir, her sister basked in the attention of their parents, and exploited it with manipulative mastery. Without meaning to, she watched Boromir and Faramir's past turn into her own. She would cry to her mother when her sister bullied her, only to be pushed aside. "The whole world is not out to get you." While this was normal once or twice in a child's life, it made up most of Danica's. Becoming frustrated with herself, she changed the dream to show hers and Thorin's room in Erebor. It was bittersweet, but more of a comfort than her childhood.

"How many traumas are you going to hide from me?"

For the first time in a while, she was surprised to see Thorin. Relieved, she went straight into his arms.

"Maybe some of my ability is rubbing off on you," she joked.

"Or, perhaps my dreams have become so linked with yours, that it is impossible to be separated,"

"Not sure how I feel about that," she admitted, pulling back. "Just another way I have altered your life without your permission,"

"Dani," Thorin took her chin in his hand, and kissed her. "I have stated before that I would not change a thing. Besides, that comment was meant to be facetious,"

Danica sighed. "I'm sorry,"

Thorin led her to the chairs in front of the fireplace. He sat in one, and pulled her onto his lap. "Tell me, what has you looking into tragic childhoods?"

Caught, she explained how Boromir and Faramir had seemed familiar, and that she had wanted to use her dreams to find out why. As usual, he saw what she was trying to hide.

"How did the Steward know your identity?" he questions, clearly as troubled as she had been.

"We haven't figured that out yet. For the time being, I wanted to figure out why his sons were so familiar. I got distracted before I could get my answer,"

"So I saw," his hand began stroking lazily along her thigh. "You never mentioned the neglect in your childhood,"

Danica shrugged. "I honestly don't think about it much, anymore. My parents apologized a long time ago, and our relationship has been mended,"

"But it still hurts,"

"Every now and again, but I never had it as bad as Faramir. I can only imagine the pain he felt. Which reminds me; I should really get back to going through these memories. Care to join me?"

He smiled. "Seeing as how my only plan with my dreams was to see you, I cannot object,"

They stood, and Danica focused on the brothers. She saw Boromir in Rivendell, and Faramir trekking through some woods with other men, dressed to blend in. A loud horn blast echoed around her and Thorin. The woods changed slightly, and they saw Boromir blowing on a horn while a multitude of orcs lay dead around him. Except, they were too large to be orcs. Not too far away, hordes of them were running toward Boromir.

"What in Durin's name are these monsters?" Thorin breathed.

Danica knew, but couldn't answer. Her eyes had found two small figures behind Boromir. Merry and Pippin. Her heart lodged in her throat, making the desire to scream at them moot. Then, she remembered; the hobbits survived this. Boromir did not.

"No," she murmured. "No, I don't want to see this,"

Just like that, they were back in Erebor. She began pacing in front of the fire as some of the pieces fell into place.

"What happened?" Thorin asked softly. "Why were Merry and Pippin there?"

"The Fellowship of the Ring," some of the voices from her dream with Kili and Galadriel began to make sense. "A group that will come together to take the Ring back to Mordor to be destroyed. Boromir dies in that battle we saw. He takes many arrows to defend Merry and Pippin from the Uruk-hai. That's what those creatures were. Damnit," it was so much harder now that she had met him, and spoken with him. He was too good of a man for the death he was going to be given.

Thorin cursed on a sigh, and sat. Once Danica stopped pacing, they both just stared at the flames. "We don't have much time, do we?"

Again, Danica couldn't answer. She just shook her head. Thorin held out his hand to her, and they went to lay on the bed. Without even looking in the library, Danica had gotten her answers. At first, she felt like the trip to Gondor was a waste, but she never would have gotten here without seeing the brothers face-to-face.

"Come home," Thorin said, just as she was thinking it. "Come home to me. Whatever comes next, we will face it together,"

Though she wasn't exactly sure how she would accomplish that, she nodded. "I promise, first opportunity I have, I will come to you,"

It was the best she could do.