Thank you to everyone for the reviews
I tried my hardest not to leave on a cliff-hanger again, so this time it's just a small one.
I hope you enjoy. (giggle, giggle)
Chapter Four: Back from the Dark
It was dark. He could hear voices somewhere nearby, but when he tried to move close to them, they would disappear and fade away. He remembered pain and nausea. It was a pain like he'd never felt before, deep and aching, reaching down to the very core of his soul.
There had been a blinding light, filled with peace. It had beckoned him like a siren, intoxicating, mesmerizing. But there was something in him that held him back, something inside of him that screamed out against it. It wasn't time yet. He wasn't supposed to be here. Moving away from the light, he found himself in darkness again.
The dreams came in spurts of pictures and moving images, disjointed sounds, and emotions. The images were so out of order that he didn't know if he could trust them. Were they his, or a product of imagination? There were faces he recognized, some stern, some kind, some accusing, some forgiving.
There were voices too: laughter, shouting. Like the faces, some of the voices were happy, some proud, others demanding, but there was one voice that stood out. It seemed closer than the rest. It was as if he could almost reach out and take hold of it.
"Please," the voice repeated over and over. "Please, please, please." Then, in the darkness, he saw it: a tiny glimmer of light, just a speck. It wasn't full of the blinding grace of the first light, but it held promise. Moving towards it, he walked slowly, unsure of himself, holding onto that voice, hoping it would guide him.
"Mama! Mama!" she shouted. "The man! He squeezed my hand!"
Turning in disbelief, Mara ran towards the house, certain that the child was mistaken. The room was warm and Meris' new pet sat on the floor, wide eyes staring up at her as it nibbled on a leaf of lettuce. Mara kneeled next to the man's pallet, his hand dislodged from where it had been laying peacefully.
Taking his large, rough hand in hers, Mara held it up against her cheek to see if was any warmer than earlier in the day. She was shocked to find that it was. Quickly placing a hand on the man's forehead, she found it warmer as well. Leaning over him, his face in her hands, she watched for any flicker of movement. Grabbing his hand again, she held it together in hers, next to her heart.
"Please," she begged. "Please live. Show me something, please." Suddenly, his hand squeezed back. "Meris, come, quickly. Terin, some broth," she said excitedly. Pulling one of his arms out of the warm cocoon of wool blankets, she motioned Meris to take the other. "Rub them," she ordered. "Quickly."
Rubbing his arms, she tried her best to fill him with life, to urge him back into the world. It seemed as if his color was indeed returning. Out of curiosity, Mara pulled back the blankets and the muslin wrapping to look at the wounds on his chest again. The purple of the poison had nearly faded. Looking back at his face, she held a roughly-stubbled cheek in her hand. "Wake up," she ordered. "Come back…please."
At first it was just a flicker, if she had blinked she wouldn't have seen it. A quick movement behind the eyelids that was barely perceptible, then a movement of the head slightly to one side, then fitfully to the other. Meris stood back in shock, Terin watching with his mouth gaping open. Taking a warm cloth, Mara pressed it against the man's cheeks and forehead.
The light in front of him grew and brighter and brighter until a warmth began to gather in the center of his chest. The warmth began to deepen, surrounding him, filling him. His arms and legs began to tingle as if they had been asleep for years without moving. The tingling began to verge on pain, but was quickly replaced by warmth again as his muscles began to fill with life. Trusting the warmth, he moved his hand, still expecting to find it stiff and dead and himself back in the darkness.
But there was no darkness this time. His hand moved, and in that small movement, he felt himself back inside his body. Stiff, sore, and aching, he moved his hand again, feeling the slightest of pressures back. Everything was coming too fast and loud now. There was the voice again, calling to him, ordering him back. His arms were being moved, something warm and wet was placed against his face. He fought against it, the sensations too much, but the voice kept calling him, refusing to let him fall back.
He tried to open his eyes. The light was too bright and he needed to see, but his lids felt like they were weighed down by pounds upon pounds of sand. Slowly they opened, the light even brighter now, almost blinding. Images blurred in front of him, without focus, without definition.
Suddenly the blotches of color became more defined and a face loomed above him, sweet and powerful. It filled him with something he couldn't describe or name, but it gave him longing, a longing to see more of it.
"Meris, go get some pillows, please," Mara ordered gently, trying to keep her excited voice calm as she tried to coax the man back into the world of the living.
The little girl quickly ran to her and Terin's room, returning with an armful of flat, feather pillows.
Reaching behind the man's head and shoulders, Mara pulled him up so that the children could put the pillows behind him. Laying him back, he was now able to sit up part way, still weak, and unable to move on his own. The man's eyes, still unfocused found hers. She smiled, hoping to make him comfortable, knowing this had to be a shock. "I'm glad you've joined us," she said, cheerfully, gently. "You must be hungry."
The man tried to say something, but Mara stopped him. "Don't try to speak yet. We need to get some food and drink into you first." Taking the bowl of broth that Terin had set next to her, she picked it up and carefully spooned some into his mouth. The man accepted it gratefully, closing his eyes, savoring the taste. Mara gave him more until half the bowl was empty. Then, picking up a small glass, helped him drink. The liquid was strong with herbs and alcohol. He winced at the taste.
"I know," Mara answered, knowing how vile the concoction was, "but it will help you heal and rest."
The man nodded and then laid his head back on the pillows, allowing himself to fall under the spell of the drink. The darkness began to envelope him again, but this time it wasn't lonely. This time it was comforting, promising that the world would be different when he woke.
"Mama, he's asleep again," Meris said. Frustrated, she picked up her rabbit, holding him tightly.
"He needs the rest, sweet," Mara answered, brushing back a lock of dark blond hair from the man's forehead, studying his features carefully. "If he's going to get better, he needs to rest. At least now we know that he will be alright, and when he wakes again, maybe he can tell us who he is and what happened to him."
She turned to the children, a smile on her face. "Now, how about we get have some dinner. Soup?" she asked. "It looks like that's our only option since our original dinner has found a new home." Leaning over and giving Meris a kiss on the top of her head, she gave Terin a wink.
Mara slept again that night on the floor by the man in case he woke during the night. Her dreams were dark and fearsome. Dreams that had haunted her for years returned suddenly with a vengeance.
It had been a tearful goodbye, even though she had promised herself that she wouldn't cry. She had tried so hard to be strong, but had failed miserably. Clinging to Derin's broad shoulders she had wept, begging him not to go.
"It won't be long, my darling," he had promised, his own anguished voice in a whisper. "We will find the raiders and be home before you know it." He held her face in his hands, kissing her gently. "I promise."
Leaning down he picked up Terin in his arms, giving his young son a strong hug. "You be strong," he ordered, setting him back down on the ground. "You're the man of the house until I return." The small boy nodded gravely as if the entire world was on his shoulders. Derin chuckled and took his baby girl from Mara's arms. Kissing her pink cheeks, he choked back his own tears as he handed her back, telling her how much he loved her.
The order was called by one of the elders and Derin looked back down at Mara. "I'll be back," he said, kissing her one last time. "I'll be back."
For days there was no word from the riders who had gone out to find the raiders responsible for slaughtering their animals and burning their fields. Then the days turned into weeks. The women would gather, waiting for word, but nothing came.
It was late one night. Thunder echoed in the distance, and lightening drew closer with each rumble. The sound of horses was covered by the hammering of the rain. Mara had been in bed, tired from a day of caring for Mara who had been sick. A pounding at the door woke her. Grabbing her cloak, she made her way to the door, opening it slightly to see who it was. What she saw would haunt her forever.
Riman, her husband's best friend stood there, drenched in rain, his eyes downcast, his face fallen. He didn't have to say anything, he couldn't, but Mara knew. Moving aside, she saw his horse, the body hanging limply across it.
"Bring him inside," she ordered.
They had indeed found the raiders, Riman told her. After confronting them, it appeared as if reparations would be made, but an argument broke out and the fighting started. Derin had died defending him, Riman said.
For hours they tried to bring him back. Mara tried every remedy she knew of, but nothing worked. He had lost too much blood and was past the point of saving. The gaping whole where the spear had pierced him evidence enough.
The next morning she had prepared his body for burial in the wet, damp ground. He looked as handsome as the day she had met him. His long brown hair was pulled back, his leather armor clean. One would have thought he was sleeping if they didn't know better.
A sound woke her, forcing her dreams aside. Sitting up, Mara looked next to her, the man on the bed, moved restlessly. Mara moved to sit next to him, pulling her hair back, trying to rid herself of fatigue and painful memories.
She watched as the man struggled in his dreams, fighting some unseen demon of his own. Without knowing it, he grabbed her hand, his deep, scratchy voice pleading for forgiveness.
"Shhh. You have nothing to be sorry for," Mara told him quietly, soothing him, brushing hair from his face. "You're alive, that's all that matters." She swallowed hard, tears threatening to fall.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean…" Suddenly his eyes opened, bright and blue and grey, surprise and shock registering in them.
Taken aback, Mara was silent for a moment. "You've been sick," she managed to say lamely. He looked back at her as if she spoke some foreign language. "Do you remember anything?" she asked, her voice unsure of itself.
The man shook his head, a hint of fear behind the strong mask of his face. "No," he finally managed to say. Handing him a cup of water, he drank it quickly and tried to sit himself up more, grimacing in pain.
"Don't," Mara said, moving quickly to help him, her arms around him. Suddenly aware that he was very much alive and very much a man, she felt herself pull back a bit at the intimacy. "There," she said, trying to sound casual. "Is that better?"
The man nodded. "What happened?" he asked, his voice husky.
Shaking her head, Mara pulled back the blanket revealing his bandaged chest. "You were injured. Orc arrows. We thought you were dead." Mara carefully removed the muslin bandages, trying her hardest not to hurt him as they pulled away from the skin. "You had poison running through your system. The children found you by the river." She placed some more of the poultice on his chest, now looking much better that it had previously, the wounds now looking much cleaner, pink and new.
Trying to avoid his eyes, she replaced some new muslin on the wounds, covering him up again with the wool blanket. "You still need rest," she told him. "That's the only way you're going to heal."
The man nodded, closing his eyes and taking in a deep breath. "Thank you," he said in a painful sigh.
"Are you hurting?" she asked. "I can give you something to help." She moved to get him more of the drink she had given him earlier.
His hand stopped her. "No," he said, concerned.
"Is there nothing you remember?" she asked, sitting down next to him, her eyes searching his face.
Shaking his head, he opened his eyes, focusing on hers. It was an odd sensation, causing Mara to look away self-consciously. When she looked back at him, he was still watching her. "Your voice," he answered. "I just remember your voice."
Embarrassed, Mara looked away. She shook her head. "Surely there is something," she handed him the cup of water again, trying her hardest to avoid those eyes. "Do you remember your name?'
The man paused, taking a careful sip, thinking. "Boromir," he said, looking at her as if it was a foreign word. "I think my name is Boromir."