Chapter 2: Topaz Eyes

"Are we almost there, Uncle?"

"Nearly."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely." Faramir sighed and sank backwards against Boromir's chest as they slowed their mounts to a comfortable pace. A similar exchange of words would take place every few hours, Faramir, always hoping to receive a different response. Though, his Uncle's reply was always the same.

Nearly.

Boromir tightened his arms around Faramir in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. They had been traveling for weeks now, and Boromir no longer kept track of the date, constantly having to ask his Uncle for confirmation. But they were very close to their destination; closer than any of them may've thought.

It was early August, he deemed, and the sky high above their heads was shining brightly upon their weary faces. Boromir liked the feeling of the warm sun on his back, his hair whipping around his head as he urged his grey mount into a full gallop across the long stretches of plains. He liked the freedom of sleeping beneath the stars that were scattered across the black-velvet sky, his bedroll acting as the only thing that stood between him and the raw earth. He enjoyed the silence they traveled, for he could really hear now. He loved how the owls called to each other in the night, and the soft wind that rustled the leaves.

And he was almost positive Faramir enjoyed it as well, despite his restlessness to finally arrive in the Valley of Imladris. They were now traveling through a densely wooded area and the leaves of the trees had a slight golden tint to them. Light filtered through the canopies above their heads and they continued for a while in companionable silence.

As the sun began to descend from its peak in the sky, Faramir glanced hopefully towards his Uncle who rode close by their side.

"Are we there yet?" The young boy sat back against his brother's broad chest, crossed his arms, and raised his eyebrows. Boromir elbowed him lightly in the ribs but Faramir simply ignored him, eyeing his uncle expectantly. Prince Imrahil did not answer, and Faramir became inpatient. Boromir raised his eyebrows, loosening his grip on Talagor's reigns as Faramir leaned over and prodded his Uncle in the side. The Prince started, supposedly having been lost in his thoughts, and blinked as he attempted to compose himself. He turned towards Faramir and raised an eyebrow. Faramir repeated his question.

The Prince sighed, and nodded glumly. "I believe so." He glanced skywards towards the tree canopies that loomed above. "I'm sorry. My thoughts have been straying…elsewhere." Imrahil cast Faramir a cursory glance and grinned meekly. "But do not worry yourself over my silent musings. And besides, the sun is setting. We shall set up camp in that clearing ahead." He nodded towards the place indicated and urged his horse forward.

Boromir tilted his head to the side, narrowing his eyes as his Uncle came to a halt within the said clearing, and hastily followed.

"Ho', Talagor." Boromir pulled awkwardly on the steed's reigns, glancing to his right where his Uncle had swiftly dismounted his own mare. Faramir patted the horse's neck before swinging his left leg over its back and hopping to the ground. Boromir quickly followed suit, just in time to catch his Uncle by his shoulder before he moved away to tend to his mount.

The Prince turned swiftly on his heel to face the young man, a grim look in his eyes. Boromir opened his mouth to speak, glancing towards Faramir who had began to lay out his bedroll and remove his outer tunic in the summer heat.

He had been waiting for the right moment to ask his Uncle this question; however, that moment had never come. It had been more than a month and he had been too cowardly to ask a simple question.

It's because I don't want to know the answer. He thought shamefully. His shoulders slumped as he lifted his gaze to meet that of his Uncle's. Even right wasn't the right time, but it was as good a time as any, and Boromir had become impatient. He swallowed thickly before speaking, noting that Faramir had gone suspiciously still. He is listening.

"Why are we going to Rivendell?" Boromir hissed, his voice low enough to make sure his younger brother couldn't overhear. Boromir saw his Uncle's jaw clench tightly before he spoke.

"I figured you both needed a holiday." He breathed with a shrug as he turned on his heel, but Boromir spun him around again, his hand gripping the older man's shoulder.

"I had my duties to attend to! I had to help my father with the court and the meetings! I had military training to complete, I—" but Imrahil cut him off.

"And despite your duties, you still came along willingly, did you not?" At this, Boromir clamped his mouth tightly shut as his eyes bore into those of his Uncle's. He tightened his grip on the Prince's shoulder as he continued.

"I only came because of Faramir." He spoke in a low voice.

"And had I only taken you up on this journey, you would've insisted Faramir come along also, correct me if I'm wrong."

"You are wrong! I would've refused your offer. I would have never allowed Faramir to come on such a perilous journey!"

"Boromir, that doesn't make any sense…"

Boromir blinked once, realizing his mistake, and glared.

"…because Faramir is here now, and this journey has been far from perilous. But it was your choice to follow me on this journey, no one forced you." The Prince of Dol Amroth shrugged off Boromir's hand and turned swiftly once again as he led his mount away.

"Why can't you give me a bloody straight answer?!" Boromir cried, resisting the urge to lunge towards his relative. "What are you so afraid of?!" The Prince halted, his muscles tensing; however he did not turn to face the young man that stood fuming only a few yards away. He instead stooped at the feet of his mare and proceeded to tie her hobbles.

Boromir instead led his mount to the opposite end of the clearing and did the same, taking a short time to tend to the steed and brush the great beast down.

Sighing, Boromir moved beside Faramir and shrugged off his pack. He stripped off his leather jerkin and threw it to the ground and he began to spread out his bedroll. Faramir watched him silently, and Boromir was very aware of his eyes on him. Feeling slightly uncomfortable, the young warrior glanced in Faramir's direction awkwardly and straightened up.

"Firewood, Faramir." He prompted as he leaned over and began the task of creating a fire pit. Faramir silently nodded and hopped up, scampering towards the outskirts of their camp and began collecting dead branches and twigs. Boromir nodded in approval, and sat back to admire his handwork. Then reaching into his pack, he retrieved flint and a small hunting knife. He set them beside the fire pit and sat back on his haunches, glancing over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of Talagor who was quietly padding the soft ground with his hoof.

Boromir stood as Faramir arrived with a descent bundle of sticks in his arms. Boromir silently nodded his thanks and took the burden from Faramir's arms and he promptly began to sort them within the fire pit. He then took the flint into his hand and began to strike it with the hunting knife until he had conjured up a few bright sparks, at which point he began to nurse them carefully until they burst into flames.

The Prince of Dol Amroth joined the two brothers shortly afterwards, carrying with him two skinned rabbits hanging upon a spit. They hand hunted them earlier that day, and Boromir assumed that the man had prepared them when he had been tending to the fire.

Faramir remained quiet and watchful, probably sensing the tension between the two men, and decided to curl up in his bedroll. Boromir watched his brother affectionately; however, he started slightly as a hand lightly touched his shoulder. It was a comforting gesture, and the teenager twisted around as the Prince settled down upon his own bedroll beside him.

"I'm sorry, Uncle…" came his hoarse response to the subtle touch. The Prince squeezed his shoulder gently before releasing it, and he nodded sharply, averting his eyes towards the fire. Boromir nodded as well, turning again to glance at Faramir. They stayed like this for a few moments, and Boromir was sure Faramir had fallen asleep when he finally broke the silence.

"May I see the map, Uncle?" Imrahil raised his eyebrows in response to the sudden question, but hastily nodded.

"Yes, yes, of course…" he reached over into his pack, and after a few moments of digging, he pulled out a few battered scrolls. "Here you are, lad…" He passed them off to Boromir who took them into his arms and spread them across the ground. Imrahil stood, reckoning that the rabbits were well enough to eat, placed them on a cloth he had set on the ground and began to cut them.

Boromir, picking up one scroll, traced the path they had followed with his index finger. It gave him something to do.

"Supper, Boromir." Imrahil sat down beside him and passed Boromir a plate of rabbit. It hadn't been spiced or seasoned, or salted in any way, but it would have to do.

"Here." Boromir passed his Uncle the scrolls, swallowing a large mouthful of rabbit as he did so. His Uncle chuckled, and gratefully took them, shoving them hastily in his pack. "Should we wake Faramir?"

"No, no, let him sle—" the man was cut off as many shrill howls filled the air. They were very close. Boromir shivered and inhaled a sharply. He felt his Uncle shudder beside him and Faramir stir in his sleep. All was quiet for a few moments until another sharp howl broke the tense silence, and it sounded altogether inhumane and evil. It echoed in the dense forest. It sounded like there were hundreds of them. Their voices seemed to mock the three humans huddled around the small campfire, their heartless laughter freezing the men's hearts with dread.

Looking into the trees surrounding them, the two warriors met dozens gleaming eyes, silently hunting them from within the shadows. A set of glowing topaz eyes stepped out from the confines of the trees. It was a massive beast, now that it had made itself visible. Its fur was pitch black and its teeth bared. Its paws were nearly the size of Boromir's hand, and a low growl erupted from its throat. After a moment, the Prince of Dol Amroth was only able to choke out only a single word.

"Wolves."

To be continued…