A/N: I know I'm the worst! It's been forever! I've been soooooo swamped with work and college apps and just exhausted, but I haven't forgotten about this! I finally wrote this chapter so please enjoy and review so I know if you did or not.
Chapter 7
"You left rather abruptly." Boromir took a seat beside her noting that she didn't take her eyes off the horizon.
"Yes well, I needed some air. I apologize if I was rude." Her tone indicated she was not the least bit sorry. She was clearly on edge. He would have to tread carefully. He certainly did not want to unleash that fiery temper of hers. He decided to follow her lead and simply stare out at the horizon.
"I am sure Godwine was not offended. The rules of etiquette are not foremost in his mind at the moment." She did not reply. He allowed the silence to stretch out for a moment before breaking it. "We will depart for Helm's Deep in the morning." She acknowledged him with the smallest nod. "Daphnaie, are you alright?" He shifted on the steps to face her. They were so close their knees touched. She tilted her head and peered over at him. Her eyes shown, reflecting the stars. Her words came out tired.
"Yes, I just—Bormir do you have any siblings." This question surprised him. He wondered where she might be going with this. Surely Saruman knew well of his brother. Perhaps she was just curious…
"Yes, I have a younger brother—Faramir."
"And do you love him?"
"Of course, he is family," he answered automatically.
"If he wasn't family, would you still love him?" He considered that carefully for a moment.
"Yes I'm sure I would." He paused, and when she did not interject continued. "Faramir is everything I'm not. He's patient and strategic, compassionate, sympathetic." He smiled thinking of the time before they were men with responsibilities and had plenty of time to make mischief all day. " Faramir would tell you that I am always looking after him, but Faramir looks out for me too. He always kept me from getting into too much trouble." He would have kept babbling on but he noticed now that she was staring at him and the look in her eyes troubled him. "What is it Daphnaie? Why do ask about my family." She seemed reluctant to answer.
"I just…I was curious about what it's like to have someone to love. I don't have family—I mean, I imagine I did before my time in the forest but I cannot remember so it's as if I never had one at all, and there weren't too many strapping young men to steal my fancy in those woods." He saw nothing but sincerity in her eyes. He didn't know what to say. He couldn't imagine a loveless life. He considered maybe that was what led her to Saruman. Perhaps she did not comprehend his evil because she had never known the opposite.
"Very few lads came through the woods at all," She interrupted his thought. " In fact the only one I ever spoke to was Gan..." Suddenly her expression changed, as if she was remembering something. "Boromir, why did you never mention Gandalf had traveled with you? And at dinner you also mentioned some Fellowship. Fellowship of what? Why have you been keeping this from me?" Something like a wall slammed down over Boromir, a mask to hide his emotions. So this was it then? She planned to guilt him into sharing with her all the details of his quest? Well, he would not give up his friends so easily.
"I am the keeper of many men's secrets. Am I to relinquish them all to you?" He said scooting back from her.
"Only the ones that are relevant. Gandalf is traveling with the very men we were tracking. It would have been very nice indeed to know of his connection to you!"
"You didn't need to know!"
" I know now! Who would it have hurt if you had told me a week ago? I'm trying to help you!"
"Are you?" She stood, clearly offended.
"What does that mean?" She said, looking down at him.
"Do you think me a fool?" He said, rising also.
"Right now Boromir? Yes I certainly do." And with that, she stormed away, striding back into the Hall.
Well…he hadn't expected that. He thought she'd defend herself. That she would try harder to convince him that she was his ally, or at the very least shout at him a little more. Why would she walk away? He could only assume it was to throw him off his guard, but it wouldn't work. He would be more careful than ever now. He walked back into the Hall. Hesitating just inside the grand doors, he scanned the room for her, but she was nowhere in sight. She must have retired, as should he. Regardless of their argument, he would still have to travel to Helm's Deep tomorrow, and with a companion as treacherous as his, he would need to be as alert as possible.
Daphnaie woke the next morning completely unrested. Groggily, she stumbled out of bed and got dressed in some trousers and a tunic. How could she travel to Helms Deep with Boromir? He was infuriating and it was becoming clearer to her that whatever trust he had in her was limited, which was also maddening. Was saving his live not enough? Clearly not. She wondered if Leofric could be persuaded to accompany them. His company would be a welcome distraction from Boromir's surly mood. She would have to ask him at breakfast.
She left her room and walked towards the Hall. Most of the men were already seated and eating. She saw Boromir and Godwine talking over a map, taking small bites of sausage every now and then. They seemed to be going over the route again.
"Good morning Godwine, Boromir." She said with a nod to each, sitting down next to Godwine who greeted her with a smile.
"Morning." Boromir replied, not warmly, keeping his eyes decidedly on the map. Instead of getting angry as she expected, Daphnaie found his terse greeting amusing. Boromir was such a little boy sometimes. She began to scan the room for Leofric. Surely he was around somewhere.
A loud crash from the doors to the Hall swinging open snatched the attention of all present. A lone man, haggard and bloody, staggered inside. He seemed to struggle, summoning the strength to shout the words: "The devils of Saruman descend on Helms Deep." Before he had the chance to go on, he collapsed in a heap onto the hard floor.
For a moment everyone hesitated. No one was quite sure how to react. Then Daphnaie watched as Boromir rushed forward and knelt to help the man. Spurred to action, Godwine started shouting orders to his men, but Daphnaie did not pay attention to his words. She stood to focus better on what Boromir was doing. He seemed to be checking over the man's wounds. Suddenly Boromir's head jerked up, and his eyes began scanning the room for something. Eventually his gaze landed on Daphnaie.
"Daphnaie, Come!" He shouted at her. She stood stock still. In her shocked state her brain struggled to attach meaning to Boromir's words. He looked at her exasperated. "Are you deaf girl? Come and assist me!" Finally she remembered herself and rushed over in a flurry to kneel beside Boromir. "Can you help him?" He asked, all of the hurt and anger from the previous night gone from his eyes for now.
"Me?" She replied disbelieving.
"Yes you." He answered. "I am no healer, and none of these men will be able to do much for wounds this severe." He waved his hand in the direction of the soldiers scuttling about the Hall.
Her first instinct was to panic. What could she do for this poor man? He might be dead even as they spoke about him, he looked so pale. Then she transitioned into fury. How could Boromir place all of the responsibility on her as he was? A man's life was not something to be tossed around. How could he place this much pressure on her? She was just a girl for goodness' sake! And then it struck her. That was just it wasn't it? She wasn't just a girl, though she'd been acting like one. She was human now, but she still had centuries of memories and experience. A vital piece of herself seemed to slide back into alignment, consequently loosing a surge of confidence. She would save this man. She would save him because it was right, but also to prove to herself that she wasn't the weak, useless maiden she'd foolishly convinced herself she'd become. Boromir had remained silent for the duration of Daphnaie's inner argument, but he was clearly losing patience.
"Move over." She said abruptly. Boromir looked surprised but he shuffled over without comment. She set herself more comfortably beside the injured man, closely evaluating the damage. It looked…well she almost couldn't tell how it looked there was so much blood. He had an arrow—the shaft was broken—lodged beneath his ribcage on his left side and a deep gash about mid-thigh on his left leg. The torn fabric around his wounds was soaked with blood. She put her hand on his neck to feel for a pulse. It was weak but steady. She hoped he hadn't already suffered too much blood loss. There was nothing she could do for that. At least not anymore.
"Well?" Boromir asked worriedly.
"We can't move him yet. Get me some boiled water, some clean bandages and some sutures." Boromir nodded, and left quickly. She realized she needed some help. "And if you see Leofric, send him to me!" She called after him. After that her attention was solely and completely on the man in front of her.
First she ripped the remains of his shirt off, and tied the torn fabric tightly around his leg above the gash. Hopefully that would halt some of the bleeding. She scanned the arrow wound. Pierced lung? Unlikely. Other serious internal damage would be limited. The arrow did not appear to have pierced very deeply. It must have been fired from a good distance. It should be safe to remove.
"What can I do?" She jumped, and looked up. Leofric kneeled beside her. Good. Boromir had found him.
"Give me your shirt."
"What?"
"Your shirt! I need something to help staunch the bleeding." He looked at her questioningly.
"Would that not be more effective if the arrow was removed?"
"Quite right." With that she placed one hand firmly on the man's side, and with the other hand she grasped what was left of the arrow shaft and yanked. She freed the arrow in one fluid motion. She threw the gory weapon on the ground and held out her hand for Leofric's shirt. He stared at her for a moment. She couldn't discern the strange look in his eye. The next moment his shirt was in her hand, and she pressed it into the wound. Soon after Boromir arrived. She stitched up both wounds with clean precision, her hands always steady.
The work was long and gruesome, and it was horrible to see a man in such condition, but she could not help but feel a strange serenity. She was just so efficient. She looked at the damage and saw everything that was wrong and knew exactly what to do about it. It was invigorating. A few hours later, the man was lying in bed, clean and in a healing sleep. She was sitting beside his bed, ready to act if he caught fever or if one of his wounds began bleeding again. He was weak and his leg might never be as it was, but he was alive. She smiled to herself. He was alive, and she was responsible.
She was busy checking the bandages again when she heard a knock on the door. She turned and smiled as Leofric entered. He stood relaxed with his arms crossed leaning against the wall.
"How is he?" He asked, nodding at the man. She flashed him a smile.
"Quite well I think." He grinned at her.
"How are you?"
"Quite well, thank you."
"I just wanted to tell you, it was amazing to watch you work. I didn't realize you were a healer." She wasn't sure what to tell him. Certainly not the truth, but certainly not a lie either.
"Yes, I've been studying healing for a long time. But please, let's not talk of work right now. I'm exhausted."
"Very well," he said not in the least put off. "What would you like to talk about? I would very much like to know more about you. Tell me something." She laughed at him as she sat herself down in a chair by the bed.
"Now wait just one moment! You asked me what I wanted to talk about and then immediately chose the topic yourself. I demand to talk about something other than myself."
"Fine, fine. You make a fair point." He had a mischievous glint in his eye. "Just tell me one thing then, one tiny thing about yourself, and then we'll talk about whatever you want." She was examining Leofric's smile. She wondered how it was possible that he could always be so happy.
"As you wish. I have a particular love of morning glories."
Boromir stood in the hallway outside the room. He would have gone in but Leofric was in there sitting with Daphnaie. She had saved that man, that wounded soldier. That could have been him. It had been him, he realized, and she had saved him too. She seemed to be in the business of saving people. He just didn't understand! She had been incredible. He hadn't seen more impressive work from any healer. How could one trained to save lives be a traitor? Boromir was a logical man, but his theories simply weren't adding up. He wanted to talk to her. Maybe she would reveal something, some hidden thing that might afford him some clarity. He did not, however, wish to speak in front of Leofric. The man, or boy rather, was virtually glued to her side. Would he not give her a moment's peace? He sighed. Was he not a captain of Gondor? Was he not a grown man? He could have a little patience then. He would talk to her on the way to Helms Deep the next day, as she had demanded to postpone their departure until she could be sure her patient would remain stable. He found he could not refuse her after the work she had done.
That evening he headed off to bed immediately after dinner. He wanted to get an early start the next morning. On his way out of the Hall he saw Leofric and Daphnaie walk out the front doors presumably to go for a walk about the building. That shouldn't bother him. It was perfectly natural to want some fresh air after being indoors all day. But it did bother him.
