Thank you Valinor for reviewing, and my lovely Beta Gaslight, i love you both.
Almost a month more passed since the ending of the council and the decision of Elrond - a month of nothing but waiting. As day followed day, Vivienne began to wonder if he had changed his mind, or perhaps forgotten his decision. Of course that was a ridiculous notion. However, even ridiculous notions are easy to believe when spending the days wandering in the peaceful house, secluded and as harmonious with nature as anything Vivienne had ever experienced. She was no stranger to beautiful forests - she'd certainly spent enough time in them - but none of the many camping trips she had been forced to endure since childhood could compare with the serenity of Elrond's Last Homely House, and the woods that surrounded it.
She had initially not understood the meaning behind this name, the Last Homely House. The shelter and security it provided seemed explanation enough, but as she prepared for the daunting prospect of leaving the confines of its safety and seclusion, she understood all too well the logic behind it, and for the first time, was strongly reluctant to depart. She fought this fear, this childish impulse to hide, and had found an intense, renewed focus on tasks like packing for the journey.
"Oh, sorry!" she exclaimed in surprise. In her effort to finish filling her bag, she had bumped back rather hard into a large, rigid body behind her.
She turned around quickly, an apologetic look on her face, to find Boromir to be the owner of said body.
"Perhaps you should watch your step in future," was the only reply she received. It would have been an innocuous enough response – if it were not for the callous tone he used, or the look of annoyance written plain across his face.
"I said I was sorry!" she called after him in earnest, but already he was walking away, his haughty attitude once again in full force.
"Oh why even bloody bother," she muttered to herself, turning back to continue packing her knapsack and rolling her eyes in frustration.
Honestly, what had she done to offend him so?
Not that she could claim to be an entirely innocent party in the matter. Sly remarks had been passed back and forth between the two since their initial introduction several weeks ago, and they were not exactly on the best of terms.
She could very clearly remember one such instance as little as yesterday, in which he had made yet another snidely rude remark. What annoyed her the most about it was how inconspicuous they always seemed. Were it not for the cold, arrogant tone that always seemed to accompany it, she doubted anyone would have noticed it at all.
She was also ashamed to say that she had indeed risen to the occasion, and remarked very rudely back, despite her determination to not stoop to his level. Sometimes he just made it so difficult.
'Just shrug it off, Viv,' she thought ruefully. 'Don't let him get to you, he's not worth it.'
Her mind finally turned back to the daunting task in front of her.
"Ugh!!" she groaned loudly, realizing she would have to once again empty and re-organize her satchel. Luckily, it had come with her when she was accidentally dropped here, and it had lain unused in a corner of her room until now. Elrond had provided them all with quite sufficient gear, however, she would much rather take along this one small reminder of home. Unfortunately, one thing that she had underestimated was the amount of things she would be forced to bring along, and the noticeable size difference between her bag, and the one from Rivendell.
As she continued to pack, the doubt she was feeling began weighing heavier and heavier upon her mind. With so many much more experienced and well travelled people accompanying her, how was she ever going to keep up? She had spent enough time in the woods to not be a complete nuisance on them; however, when matched to their skill, she doubted her own small understanding would carry her very far. The last thing that she wanted to be was yet another burden to them on their already difficult task. She just hoped that she could last.
She gazed longingly at the bag provided by Elrond, agonizing over whether she should put her pride aside and just take that one instead, when she was interrupted once more. This time, though, it was a more than welcome distraction.
"Golly, is that all the stuff you're taking with you?" Sam exclaimed, staring in shock at the jumbled assortment that lay cluttered about her. "And here I was, wondering about how I was going to fit all of this stuff into my bag, and it's near twice the size as yours! I don't envy you, I'll tell you that much!"
Of course that was quite a bit of an overstatement on Sam's part. The hobbit's bags were all about the same size as hers, the only discernible difference being contents. Sam had apparently decided they would need every single type of cooking gear known to hobbits, elves, and men, and had somehow managed to slap it all onto his back in one great go.
"Oy, master Pippin, come and get a good look at this!" he called over to the nearby hobbit, who dutifully bounced over, his packing finished, and was now munching gamely on an apple.
"Well, what do we have here, eh?" he answered in amusement, looking over all the strange and unknown trinkets that lay before his eyes.
"What's this?" he questioned, his voice full of curiosity as he reached down and grabbed an electronic pathfinder.
"It's a GPS," Vivienne replied offhandedly. Her mind was currently preoccupied with the sorting of necessary and unnecessary items. It occurred to her that they would have no idea what it was.
"A what?" Sam asked, pulling it out of his friend's hand and gazing curiously at it.
"A GPS - Global Positioning System," she replied, surprised at their ignorance of the device. "It's used to track wherever you are on the planet so that if you ever get los- Oh shit."
Finally it clicked into her mind how useless all the electronic devices she had safely stashed away in her back for this trip would be.
"But of course that wouldn't actually work, because I'm not actually on my planet!" she replied sarcastically to herself. "God, I'm an idiot sometimes!"
She continued to mentally berate herself for her stupidity as she emptied out her bag of other such now useless hiking gear. At least on the plus side, she would no longer have so much stuff to carry – though a couple of electronic pieces of equipment really didn't take up that much room in the long run.
"Useless... useless... useless..." She counted off the items in her mind, then opened her compass. To her exasperation, she found it spinning wildly out of control. "USELESS!!"
'Because apparently there's no such thing as south, east and west in this place... that or everything of any use is no good here. God I hope they know where they're going,' she thought, as she chucked yet another worthless piece of apparatus aside.
In her frustration, she had yet to notice Merry had now joined their group, and was currently helping Sam and Pippin rifle expertly through her stuff.
Elrond had chosen the official company about a week ago, and getting along with the majority of them had been fairly easy. For the most part all of the participants were amicable and friendly, though some more than others.
She couldn't help but like the hobbits, and even for a brief time had entertained the idea of accepting their invitation to visit the Shire someday. They described it with such longing and nostalgia that she was constantly reminded of her own home.
They were all loud and talkative, but sweet, though Frodo seemed more quiet and withdrawn than the others. Neither had done much talking privately outside of the company of Bilbo, but a mutual camaraderie she hoped was fairly inevitable.
Along with the four hobbits, there was also the younger of the two dwarfs, Gimli. He was kind, if a little boastful at times. Often she had to bite back her laughter as he bragged about the hardiness of his race and their ferocity in battle. It eluded her how such a small race could claimed to have done all the great deeds Gimli so often proclaimed, but it was in her nature to trust, so she took the dwarf at his word.
She had also already received a sound warning from Aragorn about the lesser spoken temper of the Dwarves, and was in no mood to test their wrath. Especially not when her safe passage to Lothlorien was at stake.
Legolas was chosen to go as well – the elf that had brought news to Rivendell. Apparently there were more than one settlement of their race, but had long become estranged. There was no rivalry between the groups, but neither were they close-knit and of one nature.
Aside from Rivendell there was Mirkwood also - Legolas's homeland - as well as Lothlorien, their current destination. She had been told a large group of Elves also inhabited the lands surrounding the Shire, though they were unlike the Elves of Imladris - at least according to Merry, anyways.
Aragorn and Gandalf were part of the company as well, and she was grateful for it. From all the stories that Bilbo had told about both of them, she would feel a lot safer having them around. If those orcs were as bad as everyone claimed, she was in no hurry to meet one, especially defenceless.
Last of the company, and who was also apparently not going with Frodo to the end, was Boromir. She liked the idea of him coming a lot less.
The entire time they had been in Rivendell together, of the few brief times they had spoken, he had been nothing but rude and condescending towards her. She still was unaware of what she had done to incur his wrath so, but she was certain that she had not deserved it.
Maybe it wasn't her in particular, but just women in general. She had noticed that a good many of his snide remarks had been gender based, as was his original protest of her going with them.
"This mission is too dangerous. We may well be walking directly into the hands of the enemy. She's only a child – even if she were old enough to make a reasonable decision, it still matters not. War is no place for a woman!"
Fortunately, Elrond was quick to defend, telling him not only was she not going to Mount Doom, but there was no other choice. Her only chance of safety lay in Lorien; staying here would deliver her directly into the hands of the enemy.
Her train of thought was quickly interrupted by the sound of merry laughter from behind her.
She turned to find the offending hobbits rummaging through the remnants of her personal things, and apparently having a far more joyous time of it than she found rational.
Currently they were studying an article of clothing, trying to decipher what exactly it was.
"It's my lucky toque!" she announced loudly, causing three guilty faces to snap up at hers at once.
She couldn't help but smile at the near comedic expression on all of their faces, as they attempted to look apologetic.
Sam was the only one who managed to pull it off.
"Sorry, miss, we were just curious, that's all," was his quick attempt at a defence. "All this stuff's pretty new to us, you see. We were just trying to figure out what all of it is."
"Umm hmm," she replied, looking at him hard and sceptically. "Because in Middle Earth nobody's ever heard of a hat, huh?" She raised one eyebrow at him, and he quickly looked down, his cheeks turning a deep shade of red, as he tried desperately to stutter out a reply.
"Well... I... I... Umm... Uh... well... you see -"
"Well, you see, we were just trying to figure out exactly what type of cap it is. As we've never seen one quite so... interesting... before."
Her gaze now turned to Merry, who was looking rather proud at his quick response. Out of the corner of her eye, she just managed to catch a glimpse of Sam looking gratefully at him for his intervention. Her gaze flicked back to the item in question one last time, before she finally cracked a grin.
"It is pretty ugly, isn't it?"
They all smiled brightly in return, obviously relieved to not get caught snooping.
"So a... toque... you say?" Merry questioned, giving it another humorous look. "Quite interesting, aren't they Pip?"
"Oh quite, Merry, my friend. A definitely bold choice of colour," he replied.
"And material-"
"And shape-"
"Pattern-"
"Decoration-"
"Ornamentation-"
"Yeah, yeah, I get the point. It's ugly. I get it. Now hand it back over-" she replied, snatching it from their hands as they bantered back and forth between each other. They did that quite a lot, she noticed. It was fairly endearing– as long as you weren't on the receiving end, that is.
Ok, so maybe ugly was a bit of an understatement she admitted, as she studied the old, worn, woolly hat carefully. But it had sentimental value. That had to count for something, right? Plus she had had it since she was ten. Her nana had knitted it for her herself (along with matching mittens which she put to rest years ago). The old pink hat with yellow duckies, and ear flaps with little strings hanging from each side was all she had left of her, and it seemed as of now, all she really had of her last life. At least all she that meant anything, that is.
So big deal, she looked like a dork by wearing it – who was she trying to impress anyways? Although the irony of the situation did make her laugh, even just a little. Even in a world where people wore cloaks and armour, and giant hairy feet for shoes, she was still a loser...
Boromir watched in disgust at the antics that were unfolding around him. The hobbits – Frodo excluded – were currently enthralled in some strange game with the girl. From what he could tell, it somehow involved trying on the most hideously ugly hat he had ever had the displeasure of seeing, and running around making ridiculously childish faces - laughing absurdly all the while.
A woollen cap, made of a sickly bright shade of pink he had never seen before was the object of their amusement. Decorated with odd yellow shapes, and flaps that partially covered her face, it only served to enhance the absurdity, and all over peasantry of her appearance.
To make it even worse, if he thought her appearance sore and uncouth before, he begged to have simply her apparent lack of manners and etiquette back. Instead, now he was forced to deal with a coarse, uncivilized abomination to her sex. A woman dressing like a man! Not even a proper man – but vulgar, loutish and unrefined.
Apparently she had insisted on travelling in the clothes she had arrived with. If this was the dress of a lady where she came from (though he doubted that in any world anyone could be called a lady with such an obvious lack good lineage), and these were the mannerisms of those who lived there, he most certainly had no inclination to visit that dreadful place.
A dark shirt, of an almost deep grey-blue colour adorned her torso, tightly accentuating her considerable bosom. And her lower body was even worse. A woman in trousers - what next? A shield maiden as well? At least she showed no propensity for any type of warfare thus far. He was sure that even if she attempted it, she would fail miserably. A pair of sturdy muddy boots unlike any he had ever seen completed her desired look of vagabond. He was sure the fact that said breeches were torn alarmingly bad at both knees, and had no signs of any attempt at repair didn't hurt, either.
Moreover, it seemed that she had no modesty whatsoever. Walking in the company of men, her legs bared as such! What kind of disturbing vulgar society did she come from, that would allow a lady to walk around adorned with such a lack of propriety! He was in complete and utter disbelief. He suspected that at least he was not the only one shocked by this manner, though the others did a better job of hiding it.
He turned his head at the sound of laughter beside him, and came face to face with Aragorn. He stood watching the scene unfolding before them with an amused expression.
"You find this humorous?" he queried, utterly stunned.
"Let them have their fun," was Aragorn's reply. "We'll be leaving in a few hours, and I doubt they will have much to smile of then," he finished, more grave, as he turned and walked away.
Boromir nodded solemnly, though he still did not completely agree with Aragorn's reaction.
"Still, there must be better things that they can do with their time then fool around like ignorant and simple-minded fools," he muttered out loud.
It was a trait he had unfortunately become all too familiar with as of late. Three months of travelling alone through unknown territory did little to ease one's heart, and the loneliness had grated upon him like a knife. All too often he had found himself his only source of companionship, and speaking out-loud without the fear of anyone hearing was a habit hard to break.
He was disheartened to see the despondent looks that greeted him, however, when he turned back towards the raucous group. Pippin and the girl were both looking him with identical expressions of hurt on their faces. He cursed sorely in his mind, that his lack of subtlety had caused this.
He felt almost instant remorse for his actions. He was not heartless, and the wounded look on both their faces touched his heart, causing him immense shame. He was a gentleman, and of great lineage, and yet he had caused two innocent – even if foolish – people harm.
But his pride, no matter how much his conscience prodded him, would not allow him to apologize. Instead he merely pointed out the dropped and forgotten hat to the girl – who immediately picked it up and held it close to her chest – turned, and walked away.
He was very much aware of the eyes that followed him, and the tears of doubt that stung in the youngest of them.