Happy holidays friends.

Chapter Forty-Three

She sat alone against a tree absentmindedly rubbing where the shackles bruised her skin through the leather of her boots. The light of the fire flickered across the camp, a spot of golden light against the coldness of the night. She hated the sluggish pace with which they trudged across the plains but there was nothing to be done for it. The wagons and pallets made progress slow. Éowyn pushed them as hard as they could be pushed, and although many of the sick and wounded had been left at the keep, many had still desired to return to their homes. However, to Serafina's resounding relief, Aragorn along with the dwarf, wizard, elf and every man she had met had gone on some errand away from the rest of those returning to Edoras.

The sound of grass crunching under foot made her look up. She saw a halo of silver walking towards her in the moonlight. Éowyn's face was cast down as she picked her way towards her, she had something slung over her shoulder. For reasons beyond Serafina, Éowyn had not assigned her a guard, nor had she cuffed her wrists, but she did keep her feet in shackles. Serafina watched her as she made her way towards the tree. They had barely spoken except for Éowyn instructing her to take care of the waste, or the washing of the dinner pots or to bring water from the stream. Surprisingly she hadn't minded the menial work. It numbed her, and she welcomed the feeling.

"So no escape attempt?" Éowyn asked as she drew closer.

Serafina's spine stiffened. "No you see, there are these chains that bind my feet together. It make fast and quiet movement rather impossible,"

Éowyn laughed, but it was a bitter sound, "The great Serafina caged by a single pair of shackles. If only we'd thought of it before."

"Give me the key Lady Éowyn and I will certainly leave,"

"Don't insult me!" she snapped harshly, "I know very well you can pick that lock with a mere hairpin."

Serafina raised an eyebrow and wondered if she was guessing or if someone had told her.

"Is there something in particular you're staying for? Or someone perhaps?" the blonde asked leadingly.

Serafina scoffed, "You are as insightful as you are tactful my lady."

Éowyn huffed and folded her arms across her chest as she looked down at her. There was a strong likeness between her and her brother, Serafina thought. But it lay in their mannerisms more than their appearance. And the piercing glance, that they shared.

"And what of your mother?" she asked testing a different course of provocation.

"What of her?" Serafina asked darkly.

"Well you do not seek her company. I would have thought you'd want to speak with her at least,"

"Then perhaps you thought wrong,"

Serafina watched Éowyn as she huffed again. Shrugging her shoulders she swung the bag to the ground, it clinked with an unmistakable sound on impact. Serafina closed her eyes and lowered her head, she had been wondering at Éowyn's motives for seeking her out. At least this answered that question.

Serafina stared straight ahead as Éowyn cuffed her hands together behind her back and secured Serafina to the tree.

Once she was finished Éowyn crouched in front of Serafina and looked at her. Serafina wrinkled her nose, "I would not have fled," she spat.

"I know."

"These chains could not stop me."

"I believe you," she said, her cold blue eyes earnest in the moonlight.

"Then this is what?" she hissed desperately. "A ploy to degrade me further? I assure you that is barely possible."

"This is orders, Serafina of Gondor," Éowyn answered steadily.

Serafina snorted dismissively but held the other woman's gaze. Éowyn's eyes were firm, her countenance unbreakable. With a start Serafina realised that she envied the shield maiden. It did not improve her mood.

"And you always follow orders do you my lady?" she snapped, lashing out the only way she knew how. Éowyn blinked but said nothing. "I suppose the king knows best," she added bitterly.

She saw it coming but it didn't make it hurt any less. Éowyn slapped her hard across the cheek.

"You cannot seriously think that one night of compassion can erase your past?" Éowyn asked angrily. "How could it? You are nothing but an annoying and rude disturbance in a dark time. You distract those who would do good from their duties and lure fine men into traps! How like your mother you are."

She stood abruptly and left, swinging the empty bag onto her shoulder. Serafina let out a controlled breath, unsure which stung more her cheek or Éowyn's words.

#

Serafina's dreams were filled with blue eyes. Asteard's bright blue gaze glinted with fear as he approached death. Aragorn's stormy eyes looked at her accusingly. Legolas's eyes smiled at her. Hama the King's doorward starred blankly at nothing and yet seemed to watch her from beyond the gates of death. And her nameless patient, he looked at her in hope, in friendship, he looked at her as though he knew all of her secrets. And he took them to his grave.

A pulling at her wrists woke her with a start. Cold blue eyes were mere inches away from her own green ones and she wondered for a second if she was to be haunted by waking dreams too. Something made the eyes in front of her soften and Serafina was able to recognise the face they belonged to, Éowyn.

"Good morning Serafina," she said in a stiff but not unfriendly voice.

Serafina only managed to grunt in return.

"The sun is rising, I will need some help getting breakfast ready. Can you manage?" It was every bit a challenge as it was an olive branch. However Serafina found neither as motivating as the memory of Éowyn's horse manure soup.

She rubbed her wrists and hands together in the cold air, "Lead the way".

It was only the second day of their journey back to Edoras, and judging by the pace they had at least one more to go. Serafina found the day tolerable, she kept herself busy by helping with the food preparation and clean up. She had even managed to strike up a conversation with a rider asking if he knew Asteard, and if he had any family. He didn't know him.

After she had eaten that evening, Serafina sat close by the fire with her gifts from Galadriel and laboured silently. When Éowyn called for her to fetch some water for the cleaning she was surprised to see her hands stained with ink.

As the camp began to settle Serafina immersed herself in the task before her - scouring every last pot, pan and bowl until there was nothing left to clean. She tried to keep her face impassive as Éowyn settled in beside her sharing the work.

Serafina let the rhythm of the chore wash over her. Her conversation with Éowyn the night before played on her mind and she wondered at what was motivating the niece of the King to pay her so much attention. The comment about her mother made her cheeks burn and she remembered the slap that had crossed her face. It appeared the cold woman beside her did have some fire in her after all. For the first time since she'd left that room with her mother Serafina dared to think about what she had said. It was very true that she had more questions, but she was not sure she wanted to know the answers. It wasn't even guaranteed Serrah could give a truthful answer.

If Garth really was her father - she dropped the dish in her hand and it slopped filthy water into her face. Wiping at it with her sleeve she tried to not follow that thought but it couldn't be helped. Had he deliberately made a murderer out of his daughter? Could he love her underneath all of his apparent hatred of her? She dropped the dish again.

The King's niece took that moment to break her silence. "There is a rumour that you had a," Éowyn paused looking at Serafina as she wiped water from her face again. Éowyn seemed to sit on her next word before voicing it, "quarrel… with Lord Aragorn".

Shocked from her thoughts she thrust the dish back through the water. Serafina supposed that was as tactful as Éowyn got. Even so, her voice was prickly when she replied "Yes, I heard that rumour too."

"Is it true?"

Serafina didn't answer.

"I have heard that the two of you are very close," she prompted again.

"I wouldn't say so anymore" she corrected bitterly. "You seem to hear a lot of things, Lady Éowyn," Serafina answered sloshing her dish rather violently through the water. "Who did you hear it from?" she asked, though she knew the most likely source.

Éowyn answered evasively, "When it concerns the future King of Gondor, people will talk,"

"King…" Serafina said, not trying to hide her distaste.

"Yes, he will be a mighty King," Éowyn answered, her voice filled with awe, "I guess he will break a good many more hearts than-" she stopped herself before continuing, "Well, handsome Kings have a reputation for it," she added dryly.

Serafina swallowed. "I hadn't actually thought about it that much," she admitted truthfully.

"About what? All of the hearts to be broken?" she asked.

"No," Serafina said, waving her hand in the air to dismiss the notion, droplets of wash water rained down on them both. "No, I meant about Aragorn being King."

"But he will be the King of Gondor! How could you not think about that?"

"My mind was elsewhere," she answered vaguely looking at the pot she was scrubbing with distain. "As should yours be," she ventured. "He is not," she paused and recommenced scrubbing the pot with renewed vigour, "available," she finished spitefully.

A long silence ensued as Serafina worked with fervour powered by an aching heart and embarrassment at the topic of conversation. She hoped that the brisk no nonsense Éowyn would return quickly. She could feel Éowyn's eyes on her and felt very uncomfortable. Her gaze was uncannily like her brother's and Serafina liked being the object of neither of their notice.

"I can't work out if you're warning me so that I won't get hurt or so that I will back away and leave the path clear for you,"

Serafina cringed, but had enough grace to laugh at the irony, "Normally it's safe to bet on selfish motivations with me,"

"I don't doubt it."

Serafina lifted her eyes to the other girls and saw a real question waiting for her. A sad smile was all Serafina could offer before turning back to her chore.

Éowyn sighed, "I feared as much."

#

Serafina sat across from Éowyn by the fire once more. Few words had passed between them but much of the animosity was gone. She watched Éowyn as she mended some piece of clothing, completely absorbed by her task. Looking back at the page before her she sighed. Her hand was cramping painfully but she was determined to push through. Despite her exhaustion she felt a burning desire to record these things on paper, if only for herself.

A yell broke into the night. Her head snapped up to see one of the watchmen shouting something into the night. An answer came from the darkness. Suddenly Éowyn was standing and making her way towards the watchman. Serafina stayed seated.

Soon enough she recognised a tall figure with long tawny hair pointing towards her. She frowned at him, clearly the men had returned. She wondered what the horse lord had planned for her this time. Suddenly something short and warm with a mop of curly hair had attached itself to her waist. Her heart began to ache. Crouching down she came face to face with a very sombre looking Merry.

"It is so good to see you alive Fia" Merry said.

Serafina was surprised to find her voice only came out as a raspy whisper, "Likewise, Merry."

Merry only grinned at her for a moment before she felt a sense of jubilation overcome her and she laughed out loud and cried, "But where have you been? How did you possibly escape?"

But before Merry could answer a shriek of excitement sounded and suddenly Pippin was hugging her tightly. "Serafina! I thought I'd never see you again - you wouldn't believe what happened to us!" And that was all Pippin needed to launch into a full scale account of their adventures since her escape. Serafina couldn't help but marvel at their luck, and she felt a sudden surge of gratitude for Éomer's men for killing the Uruk-Hai. The remainder of their story sounded like a fantastical dream. Only the fact that a large group of people had joined them at the fire and that Gandalf did not contradict the hobbits made her believe it. Even so she had trouble.

"Talking trees?" she asked dubiously as the story came to an end.

"Yes," Pippin said nodding earnestly, "They are called Ents," he restated.

Serafina glanced at Gandalf but he just smiled at her as if he knew a secret she didn't. She glowered at him in response.

"And you let Saruman live? You just let him stay alone in his tower surrounded by the flooded grounds of Isengard?"

"I thought you said there had been enough killing" Éomer said darkly. She ignored him.

"And he's not alone," said Merry, "That slimy character Wormtongue is with him".

"Well I'm sure that fill us all with confidence," Serafina said glaring at into the fire.

Silence ensued and Serafina took a moment to look at those gathered around the fire. All of the remaining members of the fellowship besides Frodo and Sam were there, along with Éomer and his sister by his side. In addition to these familiar faces was one yet unknown to Serafina, he looked astoundingly like Aragorn. Serafina pretended she hadn't seen him.

"What about your story?" asked Pippin with a frown.

"I'm afraid it's not very interesting. I've spend most of my time with these on," she said stretching her legs out before her to show them the chains.

Merry frowned. Pippin looked at her legs then her wrists and saw the tell-tale cuts from the chains. Embarrassed at being the centre of attention she pulled her sleeves down over her hands to hid the ugly raw and scabby skin. It seemed she was doomed to have two scarred wrists after all.

"Who did that?" Merry asked nodding to her wrists.

Serafina shrugged, "I did" she admitted with as much nonchalance as she could muster. "I didn't like being locked up".

She dared to sneak a glance at Aragorn but he was looking down at something in his fingers. She fought the urge to raise an eyebrow at his apparent disinterest as she didn't want to ignite any more questions.

"Come on Serafina, tell us what happened." Pippin asked in a pleading voice.

But Serafina shook her head, she couldn't. She didn't want to relive the horror of the last week.

A deep voice spoke up from across the fire. "We found her as we were piling the bodies of the dead orc, she was looking for you two among the dead," said Éomer addressing the hobbits, his customary frown upon his brow. "You've heard how we met Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli on the plains, it was then that we learn of the connection between Serafina and your friends. As she was too weak to travel with them she came with us to Edoras. Because of Grima's treachery the two of us were put into cells upon arrival where we waited until Aragorn arrived. Serafina was being and is still held as a prisoner of Rohan for her crimes committed in Minas Tirith. Edoras was evacuated, as you know. We travelled to Helm's Deep, Serafina was escorted personally by one of my riders -"

An undignified snort of laugher came from Pippin, "I'll bet he enjoyed that!" he said winking at Serafina. "Our Fia being the polite demure lady that she is" he giggled.

Serafina kept her head down, Éomer charged on. "During the battle she was of great assistance to our healers and I hear many men passed from this world at peace for her company."

Every head around the fire snapped up at this last piece of information. Some looked directly at Serafina, others at Éomer. Serafina ground her teeth as she locked eyes with the Éomer, unsure what to make of his comment or of the deliberate and gaping omissions from his version of events. He had not mentioned his terrible treatment of her, not mentioned the manure on her face. He had left out the threat of sending her to Minas Tirith. But he had also left out some things to her benefit; Serrah, her horrible fight with Aragorn, the fact that she had escaped her cage.

"You did well Fia," a quiet voice spoke through the darkness. It was Aragorn. Serafina looked at him trying to glean some indication of feeling from his words, voice or eyes. But she saw nothing. He was once again turning something over in his fingers.

"Is that why you don't have an escort now? Is Rohan happy with what you did?" Pippin asked.

Serafina opened her mouth to answer but she found no words.

"It is true, she requires no personal guard. But where is Asteard?" Éomer asked looking from Serafina to Éowyn. The latter shrugged, she had not seen him. Serafina tried to look as equally perplexed but unconcerned. She imagined her face looked like a naughty child trying to pretend not to know where she hid her fathers switch.

It wouldn't be enough. "I haven't seen him since he locked-, uh, since we got to Helm's Deep," she lied.

Éomer watched her for a moment and she tried not to squirm under his gaze. Eventually he looked away. Slowly the group began to leave the fire side in favour of bedrolls. Serafina stayed where she was. She watched Aragorn as he stood with the man that looked like his brother and the walked away conversing in hushed tones. Soon she sat by herself.

Taking out her two books again she recommenced her self appointed task. It was slow. These words that she knew so well looked so foreign to her as she painstakingly sounded them out in her head, double checked what she could then laboriously penned them. It was good to do, and although it didn't really take her mind off recent events it certainly kept her mind from wandering.

Without hearing him, suddenly Éomer was sitting at her side watching her.

"What are you writing? Aragorn told me you were illiterate,"

"What else did Aragorn tell you?" she asked spitefully, shocked at his presence and enraged at his gall.

"I know that you lied about Asteard," he said after a minute of silence. His voice was stern, and unsmiling. Serafina disliked him in that moment more than ever. Everything about him was rough and uncouth. Perhaps he had shown her moments of kindness but his presence she found repulsive. She began comparing his ways to Aragorn's. Where Aragorn always had patience and unending kindness, Éomer was abrupt and harsh. She was sure he only showed kindness when he needed something.

"So what if I did," she answered. The bitterness in her voice tasted like the acidic bite of a lemon, uncompromisingly sour.

Éomer didn't answer.

Serafina tried to ignore him again but she found the page in front of her become blurry and she wiped her eyes in frustration.

He thrust a handkerchief under her nose. She snatched it ungratefully and wiped her dirty, tear-stained face. She gave up trying to desperately grab for some kind of composure and sat there crying.

Éomer appeared to ignore her. Once she could again see through the tears her eyes widened.

"Give that here!" she hissed snatching her book that he had pulled from her lap. He let her take it but looked at her oddly.

"You should have told me," he said with equal fire.

"And when should I have told you? When you were admonishing me on the balcony before the entire keep, or perhaps in front of everyone an hour ago? What would you have had me say? 'Yes I saw Asteard, I watched him die. I held his hand crying about my failings as he drowned in his own blood'? He spent his dying breath trying to make me a better person,"

Éomer's gaze was piercing. "No, he spent his dying breath asking you to smile. It says so right here," he pointed at the book she held defensively to her chest, "A fine wish."

Serafina's eyes snapped up to search his face. He met her eyes with a guarded look of his own. She flushed and looked away. She let the cold night air take the heat out of her cheeks and let her anger wash away.

"Did he have any family?" she asked without looking at him.

"Yes, I believe his mother lives still. In Aldburg. Bronwyn. His sister Aerlwyn and he were named for their father Athold," he said. "Athold died some time ago."

Serafina sent him a fugitive glance before opening her book and attempted to scribble the names down.

"There is something else," he said, a note of discomfort in his voice.

She nodded, signalling for him to go on.

"Two elves traveled with the rangers from the north, you would have seen of the rangers sitting beside Aragorn at the fire this night, they met us on our way to Isengard. The elves and rangers alike greeted Aragorn like a brother. But it was the elves that gave him a jewel that he immediately hung around his neck. It shone like starlight. I took it for a lover's token," he stated matter-of-factly.

Serafina swallowed harshly. She opened her mouth to make some flippant comment but there were no words to be said.

"I thought you might want to know," he added standing to leave.

After a minute of staring at her hands, she glanced up to see if he'd left. He was standing looking down at her, once again his gaze was guarded but this time she could not mistake the look in his eyes. It was not pity, it was not even friendship - it was respect. He nodded to her in farewell and walked away into the darkness.

Serafina sat where he left her, grateful to be alone as she choked down her tears.

.