Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has subscribed and reviewed Aeliniel thus far! I sincerely hope you're enjoying reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it so far! I absolutely love getting reviews and feedback, so I can't encourage you all enough to feel free to review and let me know what you think, what you care to guess might happen and any criticism you might care to throw my way! If you'd prefer to send a private message, I'd love to respond to anything. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and look forward to the next, which should be posted by Saturday evening.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOO
Boromir grumbled under his breath as he pulled his cloak tightly around his broad shoulders, shivering as he called out, "Amera?" Upon hearing nothing but silence, he sighed deeply and continued onwards with his search. Gandalf had tasked him with finding her before nightfall, which he noted glumly, was fast approaching.
Brushing the arm of a pine tree aside, he realized that today was surely the last day they would encounter any sort of wildlife, for the gleaming peak of Caradhras loomed ever closer above them, promising an abundance of snow and freezing wind. Greatly disheartened by the thought, he called out for Amera yet again, cursing quietly when there was no reply. Where had she gone? There was nothing up this high in the mountains except for pine trees, by the Valar, and a good many of those indeed, he decided as he continued to smack away the troublesome branches.
He suddenly stumbled, blinking as his foot caught on something. He glanced down at his feet, his eyes widening in horror, as Amera's vest was caught on the edge of his boot. He instantly drew his sword and crouched close to the ground, scanning the trees ahead for any sign of her and sure enough, he was able to spy her boots tilted beneath a tree. Doing his best to ignore the horrible situations that now flooded his mind, he bit his lip and continued onwards, quietly calling out for her as his fingers gripped the hilt of his longsword with greater determination.
Following the articles of clothing that had been scattered about hurriedly, he was stunned to come across a small clearing nestled against a tall cliff face, from which a beautiful waterfall, no doubt made from the melting snow, poured into a pool at its base. While the glade was a welcome change from the rocks and dry ground he had seen far too much of over the past month, Amera was still nowhere to be found. And, judging by the leggings he spied beside the rocky outcrop next to the pool, she was certainly wearing very little indeed. He hissed her name once again, still keeping low to the ground as he moved behind a tree, pausing to think of a plan as the glade remained silent.
There was not enough time to return to camp and fetch the others, he decided, as he kept his breath quiet and listened intently for any noise. No, he needed to find Amera now.
He froze as a strange noise filled the glade and after a moment, he recognized it as rippling water, the sound of that the Anduin had made when the wind stirred its water, creating small waves that lapped against the crumbling walls of Osgiliath. He slowly tilted his head, glancing around the trunk of the tree cautiously. And, upon discovering the source of the noise, his jaw dropped in utter surprise.
Amera slowly rose from the water, her luminous hair reflecting the sunset as it streamed over her shoulders and along the sharp arches of her shoulder blades. His mind wandered to when she had first revealed but a sliver of her wounds at the Council, what seemed like so very long ago, as his eyes traveled the length of each of her scars, red and rough against her skin. She slowly turned, her eyes closed in utter peace, and gently began to walk from the water, more and more of her body revealed with each step. Boromir watched, transfixed, as the Aeliniel rose once more from water, as once she had before Amlaith on the white shores of Evendim. Her body was pale as bone against her dark hair, now flowing straight over her shoulders as water slid down her slender figure. Her face glowed with a serene contentment as she rejoiced in her element, positively joyous in her silence as she rose from the pool. Once, the woman before him had vowed to ever aid the men of Gondor, his ancestors, and here she stood before him in her true form, as feral and untamed as she had been two thousand years ago. He stared at her not out of desire, but out of curiosity, mingled with both hope and caution.
His weight shifted and a resounding crack echoed throughout the clearing, shattering the silence. Amera froze, her eyes widening as she spotted the source of the noise and met Boromir's. Boromir suddenly realized just how exactly he looked, crouched down and partially hidden behind a tree and he instantly stood up in horror, but fell over as his head neatly collided with a thick branch. Amera nearly tripped as she stumbled backwards and did her best to cover the majority of her body with carefully placed limbs and hands, her eyes blazing with rage as she roared, "What do you think you're doing?"
Boromir groaned and sat up, rubbing his aching head as he blinked away the stars that danced on the edges of his vision and turned to answer her, but was greeted with shrieks and swiftly turned his back to her, his face burning as he stammered out repeated apologies. Practically in shock, he overheard distinctly inelegant splashing noises as Amera rushed forth, no doubt to hurriedly retrieve her clothes.
Still, her could not help but be impressed by the creative combinations of expletives that angrily sprung from her, her typically soft, lilting voice full of embarrassment and fury. He heard a small shriek and turned around instinctively to see Amera fall backwards, losing her balance as she struggled to quickly slip on her last boot. He cautiously walked towards her, wincing as his fingers traced over the large bruise forming on the top of his head, sheepishly offering a hand to a glowering Amera, her wet head plastered to the sides of her neck and thin shoulders.
Amera snarled, glaring at his outstretched hand, "What were you doing?"
"Gandalf sent me to find you." Boromir awkwardly replied, slowly returning his hand to his side.
Narrowing her eyes, she rose to her feet and brushed herself off, flicking her hair away from her face as she glared, "So you decided it would be best to announce your presence after I was clothed?"
Boromir, profoundly humiliated at this point, replied, "I saw your clothes strewn about and assumed something had happened, so I decided stealth would be the best option."
Amera snorted at this. "And your stealth happened to lead you behind a tree, conveniently placed directly in front of the water in which I bathed?"
His face burned as he shook his head, "No, I…I simply was surprised, I had not expected you to be bathing." Amera appeared unconvinced and he sighed, his shoulders falling. "I swear to you, Amera, I am no scoundrel. It was never my intention to interrupt you in such an…" He faltered, "Intimate situation."
Amera crossed her arms over her chest, glancing him up and down slowly for a long moment skeptically, before finally sighing deeply. He shifted his weight as he waited for a response, which came in the form of Amera narrowing her eyes at him and suddenly jutting a figure towards his chest, "We are going to pretend that this never happened, do I make myself clear?"
"Absolutely."
Amera gave a curt nod and smoothed out her tunic, adjusting the laces of her vest before swiftly turning on her heels in the direction of the camp. Boromir followed silently behind her, not daring to mutter a word as he reached once more to cautiously feel the growing bruise on his scalp. They trekked onwards through the seemingly random placed pine trees scattered throughout the hilltops, slowly swaying in the breeze as Amera angrily smacked aside anything that stood in her way. Finally, just as the dying sun set behind the white, shining peaks of the mountains and the camp came into view, Amera turned around swiftly and suddenly enough that Boromir nearly bumped into her, holding up a hand and stated once more, as if a warning, "And this little encounter is to never be mentioned of again, yes?"
He gave a small nod and, looking contented, they continued forwards and once more rejoined the curious members of the Fellowship.
OOOOOOOOOOOOOO
"How could you fail me, my son?"
"Father, I swear to you, I-"
"How could you fail your brother? How could you fail your city?"
"I did all in my power, Father, I-"
"How could you fail your people, Boromir?"
Boromir sat up with a start, his chest heaving as he desperately breathed in the cool night air, his hands trembling with the intensity of his nightmare as he quickly wiped the sweat from his brow. Taking one calm, slow breath, he glanced at the sleeping figures strewn about him, their faces flickering by the dying embers of the once-roaring fire. It was cold now, especially at night when the wind swept down from the mountains to chill those who dared traverse their cliffs and paths, the occasional snow shower dusting their cloaks with a fine, gentle powder. Now, fully awake from the chill, refreshing air that calmed his spirits, he glanced over the rest of the Company, giving a gentle sigh of relief as all four hobbits slumbered peacefully.
He could not help but smile softly as he noticed how close the halflings huddled together, grouped in a small semi-circle as if to protect Frodo, even in their dreams. And draped upon Frodo, he noticed after a moment, was Amera's cloak, which he clutched tightly as he shifted in his sleep, pulling it closer around his body for the extra warmth against the chill of Caradhras. He slowly rose, running a hand through his hair as he examined the small group, sighing when he noticed a distinct lack of a resting Amera.
He stifled a yawn and stretched slightly, stopping when he noticed the small figure sitting on the outskirts of the camp on a small ledge nestled against the mountainside, staring out into the night and the rocky valleys below. He remained still as he watched her, taking note of her tired shoulders, normally tall and proud, and the weariness that covered her ageless features. She turned to him and met his gaze, beckoning him closer with a hand after a moment.
He quietly strode forward, careful not to wake the rest of the slumbering party as he murmured, "Forgive me, I meant not to intrude."
Amera smiled faintly at this, motioning for him to join her before wrapping her arms around her slender shoulders as she drew her knees to her chest, whispering in reply, "You've already intruded upon me naked, Boromir, for this you need not apologize."
He was silent as he sat, lowering his eyes in shame. Amera took notice of this and gently rested her hand on his shoulder after a moment, her voice as soft as the moonlight that fell upon them. "I jest, friend, and I am sorry for my reaction earlier. I was…well, I was surprised to say the least. You meant no harm and as such none is taken."
"You should be resting, Amera, the road before us is not easy."
She shrugged and removed her hand, turning her gaze once more to the valley below, "I am alright, I am just enjoying the view."
He glanced at her skeptically, unconvinced. "You value stars and snow over sleep after weeks of travel."
She paused, then lamely replied, "I doubt I would be graced with any slumber," She nodded over her shoulder, "By the volume that Gimli makes with each snore."
"You rarely sleep, Amera," Boromir continued after a moment, taking notice of the occasional shiver she tried to suppress, "You need not use such excuses. I've often seen you lie awake after the rest are dreaming." He lowered his voice, "What is it that plagues you of such comfort?"
Amera's face revealed no emotion as she stared straight ahead into the night, her voice now a whisper. "I dream."
"Of what?"
She closed her eyes for a moment, gathering herself before replying, "Of my past, of Annuminas and of faces long lost to history and lore."
He was quiet for a long moment as he watched her, then removed his cloak awkwardly and placed it over her shoulders. She flinched at the touch of his hands, as if unused to contact, but the gentle gratitude in her eyes revealed her thanks. After another pause, he murmured, "And that troubles you?"
She smiled faintly, her eyes distant as she no doubt recalled some memory. "It brings back pain I am hesitant to embrace." Amera then turned to face him, her eyes flickering as the moonlight fell upon them. "You remind me of him, you know."
"Who?"
"Mardil Voronwe."
Boromir blinked at this, slowly replying in disbelief and curiosity, "You met my ancestor?"
She nodded as if it was obvious, a genuine smile dancing around her lips. "Indeed and you do bare some resemblance to him, but your eyes are different." She paused, choosing her words carefully as she met his gaze. "His eyes were so very pale, filled with wisdom and age, while your own shine bright with the flames of pride and strength."
Boromir was silent at this and Amera looked down at her lap after a moment, drawing his cloak tightly around her shoulders as she whispered. "Tell me of Minas Tirith."
He closed his eyes, drawing a deep breath of contentment as his beloved city was built before him in his mind's eye, "It is so very fair, but as tall and proud as the mount from which it was carved, gleaming across the plains of Pelennor as a symbol of the strength of the men of Gondor, of the pride of the West. In the morning, when the sun first rises, the marble courtyards are filled with the gentle flames that appear on the horizon, welcoming each new day and upon its setting, the gardens gleam under the moonlight." He sighed deeply, a gentle smile appearing across his rugged features as he whispered, "And in the summer, the rain gently falls against the stone roofs and leaves all in its path so fresh, as if renewed, and the distant roar of thunder over the mountains can only be heard when one strains to listen, a quiet greeting as the raindrops dance against the stone."
He paused, opening his eyes in embarrassment as Amera was silent, realizing the emotion that had helpless poured into his words had no doubt made her uncomfortable as he had prattled on. Opening his mouth to apologize, he stopped as he took notice of her, a single tear rolling down her pale cheek from her closed eyes, the moonlight illuminating it with a soft glow as her eyelids trembled ever so slightly, like the wings of a butterfly.
A moment passed as he watched her, then finally murmured. "I am sorry, Amera."
She turned to him, opening her flickering eyes as she slowly whispered, "For what?"
"For treating you with such distance since the Council."
She was quiet, a small, bittersweet smile appearing in the corners of her mouth as she softly replied, "You need not apologize, friend. I am used to such."
Another pause. "Were some unkind to you, Amera?"
She closed her eyes once more, drawing a breath before turning once more to meet his eyes, her voice filled with gentle, pained honesty. "Men fear what they do not understand."
She was so different from the creature he had seen earlier, so profoundly feral, so ancient and all at once inhuman in her perfection as she had risen from the element of her birth. Now, as he watched her deep eyes fill with repressed pain, her tear clinging to the angle of her cheekbone before gently tracing a path down her features, she seemed fragile, so young but filled with the weary of a hundred lifetimes.
Finally, he spoke, "My mother used to tell stories of you to my brother and I." She smiled gently at this and he continued, lowering his head as he laughed quietly, continuing with obvious fondness, "He used to be so frightened by the thunderstorms that gathered on the plains that he would cower beside me and refuse to leave. My mother would lull him to sleep with tales of the Aeliniel," He brushed his hair from his hands carelessly, looking out into the night as he continued, "Of her bravery at Fornost, of her promise to Amlaith so many years ago. And," he laughed softly once more, "Once he slumbered, I would carry him back to his own room, only to be greeted by him the very next morning."
"You must miss them both greatly."
He shrugged, his smile fading as he murmured, his eyes distant. "My mother died when I was young, but Faramir, Faramir is a good man," Pride slowly crept its way into his voice, his chin lifting as he claimed, "He's quieter than myself, certainly, but a strong captain of Gondor. Every time I look at him, "I see a glimpse of the younger brother who idolized all that I did, who so looked to me after the death of my mother," His voice grew very soft, almost lost as a gentle breeze stirred his auburn hair. "I find myself filled with such pride as I look upon the man he's become."
Amera smiled softly and he suddenly turned to her, recognizing the veiled envy in her eyes, mixed with deep sadness. He watched her for a long moment and she tilted her head slightly, her dark hair falling against his cloak as he simply asked, "Why did you choose this life, Amera?"
A moment passed and a faint smile appeared upon her lips, bittersweet, and he found himself staring into her flickering eyes as she gently replied. "I did not choose it, Boromir, it was given unto me."
