Fo.A 2, June 21, Mid-Year Celebration

The city of Minas Tirith was abuzz with excitement and expectations of the night's festivities. Merchants in the lower circles were peddling their wares, citizens buying last minute items for their parties.

There was something in the air that everyone could feel, and they knew it would be a night to remember.

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Aragorn was in his study going over the last few details, mumbling to himself as he went line by line down the list for the third time.

He was so engrossed in his work that he failed to notice the servant standing beside him, hands trembling. Nor did he see what he was holding.

"M'lord?"

Aragorn jumped and looked at the servant, a boy not yet in his eighteenth year. "What is it?" he asked, a little more gruffly than he'd meant too.

The young man held out a hand, an envelope between his fingers. "It's for you, M'lord," replied the young man nervously. "It arrived three days ago but had gott'n missed and wasn't delivered."

Aragorn relaxed and took the envelope from the boy, scrutinizing it before thanking him and excusing him to his other duties. Aragorn turned it over in his hands, recognizing the handwriting. It can't be, he thought to himself.

Leaning back in his chair, Aragorn opened the envelope with a small knife and unfolded the letter.

My dearest friend,

It has been too long since we've last seen each other, and it is my hope that this letter finds you well. I found a reason to stay in the Shire, and that is the purpose of this letter, in fact.

In two month's time, I will make Arabella Bracegirdle my wife and I would be forever grateful if you were able to attend.

I have sent out letters to Legolas and Gimli in the hopes that they shall be able to attend, too. I know that everyone is very busy and I imagine it is not so easy to leave for another adventure as it once was.

I miss our conversations, and I hope to have a good smoke with you if you are able to come while we talk.

I eagerly look forward to your reply.

Your friend,

Frodo Baggins.

Aragorn reread the letter, and again. It was Frodo's handwriting, he knew it was, but he could hardly believe what he was seeing. He had suspected that Frodo had planned to leave with Gandalf to sail West when the time was right.

Aragorn smiled, his heart full; Frodo had found someone and was getting married.

Leaning forward, Aragorn wrote down a quick reply, placed it into a new envelope, and sealed it. He left the study and gave it to a passing servant, then headed off to find Arwen and share with her the good news.

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Údar sat cross-legged on a large boulder, staring at the White City gleaming in the afternoon light. Tonight, at sunset, he and Boromir would reveal themselves, but what came after that only Eru knew. He'd led them this far, he would not abandon them now.

Údar looked over to where Boromir stood, forearm leaning against a tree, his eyes fixed on the city. His city.

"I never thought I would see this city again," Boromir said presently. He turned his head, his grey-blue eyes filled with a somber sadness. "It is both the way I remember it and yet so foreign at the same time. I do not understand it."

Údar gazed at him knowingly. "You are not the same man you were when you left," he said, "and many things have changed."

Boromir looked back out towards the city, his right-hand running along the smooth, silver horn that hung at his waist. He was different; he'd been brought back for a purpose, or so Údar had told him over the years.

He heard Údar get up and walk over, hardly making a sound, which had always unnerved him. He stopped beside Boromir, following his gaze to the White City.

Údar placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled. "You are ready for this, my friend. Trust in Eru, and he shall make your paths straight."

Boromir nodded firmly, then went to get ready. They would be leaving soon.

Údar stared out towards setting sun. The quest the Fellowship had started was not yet over, he thought, sensing Their presence. It had been merely the first step towards the End.

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Faramir sat on the steps of the Citadel, in deep contemplation. To say that Eowyn's proposal had surprised him was putting it lightly; it had left him speechless.

When he'd regained his wits, they had talked long into the night about what that would mean for them. They were taking in the sister of a man executed for treason.

They ended in a stalemate, and Faramir asked for a few days to think about it. Eowyn agreed, and he told her that he would make his decision before the Mid-Year celebration.

As he looked out, watching the passing of the day, he knew that time was running out; yet Faramir was no closer to a decision than he was three days ago.

Faramir sighed in frustration and rubbed his face. He wished his brother was here; he had always seemed to know just what to do.

Hearing footsteps behind him, Faramir turned and saw Arwen approaching him. He quickly stood and bowed. "My Lady."

"My lord," Arwen replied, nodding.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Faramir asked, doing his best to hide his conflicted emotions.

"Would you care for a walk around the courtyard?" Arwen asked, throwing off Faramir's guard.

"Um, of course," he stuttered, offering an arm.

Arwen took it, and they began to slowly make their way around the courtyard. They made it two times around before Arwen spoke up. "I know what troubles you, Faramir," she started, voice low so their conversation would remain private. "For it has been on my mind."

Faramir glanced at her but remained silent. Arwen had sought him out for a reason.

"Eowyn and I share a common wound," she continued, "in that, we may never bere children for the men we love. A precious thing has been taken from us." She drifted off for a moment before continuing once more. "You struggle is between your heart and your mind, is it not?"

Faramir nodded his confirmation. "My heart tells me that she would fit well with Eowyn and I now that things have settled," he said, "but my mind warns me against it because of her brothers."

"You fret needlessly," Arwen countered. "In a year no one will remember the events of these past months."

Faramir wasn't so sure, but conceded her point; it was possible that this would be mostly forgotten in a years time.

"Perhaps you could take Eowyn and the girl to Ithilien for a time," said Arwen thoughtfully, glancing at Faramir.

Faramir's brows drew together as he thought about what Arwen had suggested. It would allow that to get away from the courts for a time, and maybe Ninel would find some peace there. He had been missing it a lot as of late.

"I take it you have made your decision?" asked Arwen, a smile tugging at her lips.

"Yes," Faramir replied, looking at her with a smile of his own. "Yes, I think I have."

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Ninel was trying to decide what dress to wear to the celebration in the Citadel tonight, and she wanted to make a good impression; it would take a long time to dig herself out from under the mound of suspicion her brothers had left her under.

As she went back and forth between a dress of deep blue with silver waves and a gown of forest green with golden trees, she heard a voice call from down the hall.

"Ninel, could you come here please?" It was Eowyn.

What does she need? She wondered as she left the dress and made her way down the long hall.

Ninel entered the hearth room, finding Faramir standing before the hearth and Eowyn sitting on the plush couch. "You asked for me?" said Ninel, looking from Eowyn to Faramir.

"Would you have a seat, please?" Eowyn gestured to the chair across from her.

Ninel sat nervously, glancing back and forth between the two. What was going on?

Faramir smiled, relieving some of the tension. "I'll be forthright with you, Ninel," he said. "Eowyn and I have talked about this at length, and we would like to adopt you as our daughter."

Ninel gasped, eyes wide.

Eowyn spoke up. "You have been living with us for several months now, and we have grown very fond of you."

Ninel hardly knew what to say, she barely knew these people except by reputation. Even though things had been rocky at first, Eowyn had come to take her under her wing in a way Ninel remembered her own mother doing; and Faramir had treated her with such kindness during everything, even when he didn't have to.

She had no other family that she knew of anywhere in Gondor, it had just been her brothers to protect her. 'Brother,' she corrected herself. 'Tachion was the only one who protected me.'

But now though, she was alone.

Eowyn and Faramir waited patiently for her response, which she appreciated; they knew it was a big decision.

After a few more minutes passed in silence before Ninel breathed a quiet," Yes."

Faramir and Eowyn's eyes lighted up. "You will?" asked Eowyn, wanting to make sure she heard right.

Ninel nodded as tears welled in her eyes. "Yes," she repeated, a soft joy filling her voice.

Eowyn jumped up and rushed to her, wrapping her up in her arms, Faramir following close behind.

As they stood there, the last of the light fading outside, they heard the sound of a horn blowing; its call long and mournful.

And yet...hopeful.