How I Ended Up In Middle Earth. (LOTR Fan Fic)

Chapter 42

I dragged off to Faramir's house, worrying about Faramir's intentions. What would he do? Gandalf and Zachariah greeted me with smiling faces. But it changed when I told them what Denethor had said.

"He said WHAT to Faramir?!" Zachariah asked.

"He said that he wished Faramir had died instead of Boromir. Now Faramir seems slightly depressed and I think he is riding out to Osgililiath tomorrow with a crew, but it is overrun! They will never make it out alive!" I told them in a panic

"I think that is why Faramir is going out to do it. A suicide mission." Gandalf explained. I gasped in shock. 

"No! That...that can't happen!" I ran for the door, but Gandalf stopped me.

"This time, you can't save him. Let him do what he needs to do. If I can, I will try to talk to him tomorrow. Go and get rest." Gandalf ushered me to my room. I couldn't help but feel completely helpless. I sat on the soft bed, stroking the cool sheets. My face was hot. 

"I don't want to let another son of Denethor's die." I told Gandalf, keeping my eye on the window, to see if Faramir would come back in.

"It won't be your fault. It's his choice, let him make it." Gandalf told me. "Now get rest. You look worse than ever." He told me. I nodded nad climbed under the cool sheets. My face resting on the cold pillow.

"I feel worse than ever. But that won't keep me from fighting." I told him. 

"Oh no you're not! I will not let you go out to fight in Osgiliath. You need to stay here and rest." He told me.  I sighed and stared out the window. 

"FIne,, but only this time. Because when Theoden and his army arrive and the battle begins on Minas Tirith, I will fight. I will find a sword and enemies. If not, then I shall kill an enemy with my abre hands and take up a sword from them and slay the rest with their own weapon." I told myself. 

"Let's not get too far advanced. We still need Theoden to arrive." Gandalf chuckled at my bravery and foolheartedness. "Well, goodnight young one. Hopefully you will forgive Peregrin so you can raise the child together." he sighed and walked out the door. I bit my lip and thought for a moment.

"Gandalf, come back!!!" I called for him. I watched as his shadowy figure loomed across the hallway and back into  my room.

"Yes? you called?" He asked. 

"Umm...I need to tell you something." I thought about the reaction to him when I told him...

"Yes?"

"Today in the uhh cellar..I kind of...hmm how do I put this...I went into...false labor. I thought I was giving birth but I wasn't." I told him. I made sure to spit it out very quickly, so most of it would be uncomprehensive.

"Ah. I see. Well maybe you should take rest within the next couple days. And if you are better, I might allow you to fight with us. He told me. 

"I am fighting no matter what." I told him, crossing my arms. He sighed, shook his head, and left. I laid my head back down on the pillow and turned on my side, to look out the window. A single light from a latern swung back and forth, pacing. I guessed it to be Faramir, making his desicion. I hoped that he would make the right desicion. I shut my eyes and tried to get a good night's sleep. 

Without any Frodo or Sam to fill my head, I slept dreamless. I think I would be better of that way. Because I had been getting strange and odd dreams. More odd than my usual. I choose not to talk about them with other people though. I keep those to myself.

I woke mid morning, Gandalf was gone and Zachariah was missing. I was going to have to check for him later and seee where he was. Gandalf was more of worry to me at the moment. I knew Faramir had not returned home and Gandalf did say he was going to try to talk Faramir out of wasting his life. I knew that something might be happening at Denethor's and maybe I can see what happened. I walked around the house, not knowng where to go first or what to do. I wandered back into my room and shut the door. A dresser stared me in the, it was calling my name. It had been set up at the end of my bed, against the wall in a corner, next to it was a mirror, nailed into the back of the door. I sat up and looked into the mirror. What did I look like? I got off the bed and looked at the mirror. I had changed. I was torn and rugged. My hair was in massive tangles, hanging low over my shoulders. My face was as pale as the full moon. Dirt residue stayed and lingered on my cheeks. Tear streaks ran down my face from when I was crying. I looked at the rest of me. My arms were smaller and more fragile, as were my legs. Everything about me seemd more weak and fragile. Except for my stomach. There was a small bulge that stood out. The Rohannian dress coveered some of it. The dress itself had lost all its color and beauty. It was torn at the bottom and the long sleeves had been ripped. I needed better clothes. I stepped over to the dresser to see what would be in there. I expected nothing when I went to open it, but alas, I was surprised about what I found. There was a small stack of clothes in the first drawer. I took it out carefully and set it on the bed.