If you asked anyone what the Battle of the Black Gates was like, they wouldn't be able to tell you.

The air of darkness and malice, unearthly and all-encompassing… it was indescribably to anyone who hadn't experienced it. Rowan was going to have nightmares for months about what could have happened if Frodo and Sam hadn't managed to destroy the Ring in time.

But, they had. Gandalf and the Eagles had got to the two hobbits before the were consumed by the eruption of Mount Doom (Volcanos were another thing that Rowan was going to take a while to look at like he used to) and flown back to Gondor and the Houses of Healing. The combined armies had marched back, and the White City was less than half an hour's distance away.

Riders had met them, apparently to ensure that they were actually themselves, and not Sauron's forces in disguise. They were swiftly followed by all the healers that could be spared to be sent out to meet them, along with carts to transport the worst of the wounded. Sam was included in that number, with Suzi-Maria fretting over him and doing everything in her non-inconsiderable power to assist the Healers.

It was perhaps the closest any of them had come to actually dying, so Rowan didn't blame her for being upset.

Boromir was doing a terrible job of concealing his pleasure at the idea of seeing Mairi again. Rowan had no doubt that she was either pacing on the walls, or distracting herself by organising everything that could be organised to ensure a smooth homecoming. He hoped that non-army-ration food was among those things.

Mairi wasn't waiting for them, but appeared at the doors to the Citadel shortly after the main party of important people arrived. Boromir beat Rowan to sweeping her up in a relieved hug, and promptly winced as the action pulled at the stitches holding a wound on his side together. He didn't hide his reaction quickly enough, because Mairi's eyes narrowed. "Do you need a healer?"

Boromir shook his head, not actually removing his arms from around her. "They've done all that they can. There's only time and rest to do the rest."

Mairi gestured, smiling in a way that Rowan absolutely did not trust. "Good."

A gaggle of servants swept out, gathering everyone up and bundling them off to prepared rooms and hot baths. "Celebrating can wait until you're not likely to fall asleep or pass out in the main course."

Rowan groaned; surprise, ruthless efficiency and deceptive meekness… he would have been tempted to make a Spanish Inquisition joke, if it hadn't been guaranteed to fly over the head of nearly everyone present. Besides, Mairi had a better recollection than he did for things she enjoyed, and jokes were ruined when someone had to correct your phrasing.

Aragorn's Coronation went smoothly, though the actual Wedding to Arwen would take longer to organise. Denethor's sons hadn't made any official statements, but no-one doubted that the King and future Queen were only the first of many ceremonies to come. Part of the issue was that both brothers had expressed a desire to continue in their previous roles, Faramir in Ithilian and Boromir with the Army. While Gondor had been ruled by a Steward for centuries, with the return of the King no-one had a solid answer of whether or not the office was still necessary.

The Citadel already had servants and a Seneschal that oversaw the running of things not related to State Affairs, and a council that advised in regards to everything else. A steward was largely un-needed. On the other hand, Faramir and Boromir were both very well respected, and no-one wanted the trouble of the general populace grumbling about them being 'forced out'.

Boromir dealt with that issue by loudly and frequently saying how nice it would be to return to his old position as Captain-General, for all the good that did. Apparently, some kind of visible reward for his actions was in order, and apparently 'Not Being The New Steward' didn't qualify. The injury gained at the Black Gate was nearly healed, and another issue was weighing on his mind.

Unfortunately, getting Mairi alone to talk was far more difficult than it should have been.

If it wasn't her three companions needing her advice on something, it was someone from the relief efforts or the Houses of Healing, or one of a dozen administrative branches that had taken a surprisingly short time to get used to reporting to her. (That was another reason to get the new government sorted out; Mairi had made it very clear that she would like to stop being the person everyone looked to for answers, please)

Even now, when they weren't busy with various matters and had some leisure time, he couldn't get her alone. Mairi laughed as she half-led, half dragged him through a lively reel. With Rowan and the hobbits scattered through the line, it wasn't a complete disaster, though the co-ordination was somewhat lacking. Court dances tended to be quite different.

Boromir couldn't help smiling as Mairi went into a huddle with the younger two, trying to figure what dances they all knew under different names. That half of the dancers were injured to some degree and could only dance for a limited time before needing to rest was unfortunate, but led to a greater variety of partners.

Boromir was also very sure that at least half of his men were only taking part to annoy him, by stealing Mairi away from him, if only temporarily.

Finally, they dispersed, and Boromir stopped Mairi before she left the room to help Suzi-Maria 'convince' Sam into resting until his injuries had finished healing. "Walk with me a while."

Mairi happily accepted his arm, slowing to a more leisurely pace than her usual brisk walk. He led them toward a private garden, pretending not to see the knowing looks exchanged by literally everyone they passed. "Do you remember the conversation we had, before we marched on the Black Gate?"

She smiled up at him, moving a little closer. "I recall many, but I assume you mean the one when I was helping you with your armour?"

He nodded, trying not to let nerves get the better of him. "Yes, that one. Are you still of the same mind?"

Mairi raised an eyebrow, "That you would ask me properly and I would give you an answer? Of course."

Oh, right. That. Curse it, fancy words were hard! "Mairi, Lady of Kilravock, Quest Companion and my much-admired friend," That should cover the flowery greetings, "I have admired you for a long time, for your strength, your courage and your wisdom as much as your beauty. I have loved you for nearly as long. Will you do me the great honour of being my wife?"

He hadn't actually expected the spectacle most Gondorian Ladies would have thrown if they had been the recipiant of such a question, but somehow the way she smiled and slid into his arms, rising up to kiss him before resting her head under his chin, was even better. "Freely and gladly, my love."

Perhaps the Hobbits had the right of it: stories could have happy endings.

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A/N: Yeah, I'm terrible at updating on schedule...

There will be two epilogues; one where the four interlopers return to our world, and one where they stay in Middle Earth.

Those, at least, are mostly written, and shouldn't take another 8 months to complete.

For anyone interested, I've also posted a SCA/MCU crossover fic. It's a bit silly and mostly written for a laugh, but check it out if you want to. Clearly, hanging out with other nerds at Events is good for my creativity...