Little world-building towards the end in a bid to show just where
Albion lays compared to Middle Earth

Sparrow's Lament
Chapter 13: A Less Certain Fate

The sound of movement woke Boromir, and he opened his eyes to find Sparrow reaching for the door to the room she had been given by the Rohirrim.

"Shouldn't I be the one sneaking out?" He asked somewhat dryly, "This is your room, after all."

"This is a conversation that I was hoping that we could avoid." Sparrow stopped with her hand on the door, but kept her back turned, "Last night was a mistake, one I think we should both do our best to forget about."

"Forget about..." Boromir sat up, the sheet slipping down but maintaining his modesty, "Is that how you truly feel?"

"Last night was..." Sparrow took a deep breath and turned around, "The only other man I've ever... been with, was my husband." She lent back against the door, "I was always faithful to him, and I know he was faithful to me, even when my work took me away for years at a time."

"And now you feel that you've betrayed that trust." Boromir nodded, understanding what was being left unsaid, "I know I never met him, but surly he wouldn't have begrudged you any happiness after his death?"

"No, no he wouldn't." Sparrow closed her eyes, "I just, don't want to cause you any pain."

"What do you mean?" Boromir stood, wrapping the sheet around his waist, "Why would you cause me pain?"

"I had a vision, after I was thrown from the wall." Sparrow tried to find the words to explain her experience, "I saw myself, as I could be if I give in to the darkness that lies in my blood, the same darkness that brought down the Old Kingdom. But I also had a glimpse of what awaits us beyond this world; a place where this is no pain or sorrow. And I could feel it calling to me, beckoning me to stop fighting and give in." She turned her face away, "I do not believe I would have the strength to resist its call a second time."

"You forget, you are not the only one who has seen the beyond grey veil." Boromir smiled as he walked over to her and ran a hand down the side of her face, wiping away her tears, "I saw the world that lies beyond death, before you pulled me back; an act I am very much grateful for. I know the allure if offers those of us who have seen and done so much in our lives, but we still have much to live for."

"But not now." Sparrow looked him in the eye, her resolve set, "I do not fully understand my feelings for you, and at another time, in another place, I might be willing to explore them further..."

"...but now is neither the time nor the place for such inquiries." Boromir accepted the truth to her words, either is he would rather it had been otherwise, "I should dress; the other's will be waking soon, and I would not want to give them cause to call your honour into question."

"I've survived worse." Sparrow kissed him tenderly, "But you're right, it's dawn, and there are still battles to face."

If anyone in the Golden Hall noticed the fact that they arrived late, and together, none mentioned it. As it was, Gandalf stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by the rest of the Fellowship, Théoden and his top advisers.

"There was no lie in Pippin's eyes. A fool... but an honest fool, he remains." The wizard looked down at the young Hobbit, who his his face in shame, "He told Sauron nothing of the Ring. We've been strangely fortunate. Pippin saw in the Palantir a glimpse of the enemy's plan. Sauron moves to strike Minas Tirith."

"No!" Boromir almost wailed, clutching at his chest as he felt an icy fist grab his heart.

"We will not allow that to happen." Aragorn assured him, "I will not allow it."

"If Gondor is to have any chance of holding Minas Tirith, they'll need help." Gimli grunted, "Haldir and the survivors of his company have returned to Lothlórien to tend their wounds and morn their dead." He glanced up at the slightly pained way Legolas was looking at him, "As is right and proper. My people have no armies this far south, not with the fall of Moria."

"That leaves only Rohan." Aragorn turned to face Théoden, "If Gondor calls, Rohan must be ready to come to her aid."

"And where was Gondor when the Westfold burned?" The king asked, his voice bitter, the smell of death and the sound of battle still fresh in his mind, "Where was Gondor, tell me, when my men bled and died to defeat Saruman?"

"Bleeding and dying to hold Osgiliath, to stop Sauron from pouring his armies west." Sparrow spoke up, "I know I am more of a stranger to these lands than any here, and as such my voice probably counts for little, but surely I can not be the only one who sees that this squabbling is playing into our mutual enemies hands? Sauron doesn't have the power to crush the Kingdoms of Man, or he would have done so already. Instead he uses pawns like Saruman to cut you off from one another so he can take you one at a time. Gondor must be warned of what is to come if there is any hope of stopping it," She glanced at Théoden, "regardless of what Rohan decides."

"I will go." Aragorn nodded.

"No." Gandalf shook his head.

"They must be warned." The ranger insisted.

"And they will be. I ride for Minas Tirith," the wizard looked over to Pippin, "and I won't be going alone."

"I will go as well." Boromir insisted, his tone offering no ground for argument, "I am captain of her guard, my father is the Steward; my word will count for more than any here." He glanced at Aragorn, "For now, at least."

Sparrow waited until the stable was almost empty before stepping out of the shadows, a slightly pained expression on her face.

"Running home after spending the night in my bed?" She asked dryly, kicking a few lose bits of straw almost absent-mindedly, "A woman could take that the wrong way."

"Believe me, I wish I was running away with you to your bed." Boromir smiled warmly. He looked around to make sure no one could see them, then kissed her deeply on the lips, "Come with us; I can show you the true glory that is Minas Tirith."

"Were it so easy." Sparrow sighed, pressing her body up against his, "I have more than a few fences to mend here before we can count on Théoden helping us. I fear I may have spoken out of place, and said too much."

"The Rohirrim favour plain speaking over platitudes and flattery." her lover assured her, "These lands, the people here, are ruled as much by the past as they are the present. People feud over insulted and slights that happened generations ago, war over grievances, the origins of which have been lost to living memory." He brushed a few stray hairs out of her face, "But you are from Albion, and bare no such burden: your actions and words are your own, and you will be judged on your own merits."

"Even so, it's best I stay." Sparrow nodded towards the saddled horse, "They've given you what they claim is the fastest horse in all of Rohan, and even then, Gandalf doesn't seem convinced you'll be able to keep up."

"Then I had better convince my father to call for aid so you can come ridding to the rescue." Boromir joked, "Although, I'm not sure my ego could take that."

"I'm sure you'll find a way." Sparrow laughed, "Now go; the other's are waiting for you."

"As my lady commands." Boromir pulled himself up into the saddle of his house, "Know this; no matter what the distance, or what enemies may stand in the way, I will find you."

"I'll hold you to that." Sparrow smiled, then slapped the rump of the horse as hard as she dared, "HYAH!"

The horse galloped out to where Gandalf and Pippin waited on Shadowfax. The wizard pulled the reigns around, and they set off as fast as their mounts could carry them, soon becoming little more than spots in the distance.

"Speak you piece." Sparrow stood, looking out across the valley long after the riders had vanished from sight. "You've been hiding there long enough as it is."

"I did not know if it was my place." Aragorn appeared at her side, almost as if out of thin air, "It looked like the two of you wanted to be alone..."

"I don't know what I want, not any more." Sparrow shook her head and closed her eyes, "At first I came here to clear my debt with Theresa, but now I find myself drawn into something more complex and dangerous then I had ever imagined. At first I thought that maybe I would find my death on this quest, that I maybe at last allowed to rest." She turned to face her companion, "But now, now the path before me is nowhere near as clear as it once was. I have feeling for Boromir, feeling I never expected to know again, least not in this life. I am... at a loss for what to do next."

"Half of everything in life is luck; the other half is fate." The ranger shrugged, "Decide which you want this to be."

The next few days passed slowly: everyone knew that it would take time for the three riders to reach Gondor. Sparrow spent as much time as she could away from the Golden Hall, and Théoden, as she could manage. Thankfully there was much work for two strong arms and a strong back, allowing her to go from dawn to dusk without risking encountering him. There was no indication that he had taken offence at her words the morning after the feast, perhaps indicating that Boromir had been right, but she did not want to risk angering him further.

It was a little after dawn on the forth day when she came across Éowyn, sword in hand, slowly and carefully putting herself through a series of exercises that, sped up, would have been an effective combat strategy. She stood and observed the shield-maiden for a while, gauging her technique, her strengths and weaknesses.

"You leave yourself open when you strike to the left." She warned, pointing to Éowyn's exposed right flank, "Either keep your other arm up, or take a different stance."

"What stance would you suggest?" The younger woman asked, eager to learn from one who had lived by the sword and did not see her as a foolish girl playing at things better left to a man, "I can find few willing to train me."

"Hold your sword like this." Sparrow held her arms over her head, hands clasped together as if holding a sword, "In the Eastern Kingdom they call it la posta del falcone: the Guard of the Hawk." She mimicked striking down to the left and right, "You let the blades weight work for you, not against you."

"I have never heard of the Eastern Kingdom." Éowyn mirrored the stance, slashing down with her blade, "Is it far from here?"

Sparrow picked up an apple from a nearby table and made a mark on it with her knife

"Well, you have to travel east, past Mordor, until you come to what your people call the Outer Ocean. If you can find your way across that, you would come to the desolate shores of Aurora. While once home to a great civilization, it has long been overrun with endless sand and under the searing heat of the sun that hide long forgotten cities that rivalled anything the Old Kingdom had to offer. Then, to the north-east, across the Azure Sea, Albion." A wistful look came over Sparrows face as she thought of her distant homelands, "It's...I suppose it's not that unlike these lands. We have our town, cities and villages, separated by mountains and valleys and forests and lakes and rivers. It can be a clangours place to the unwary, but it is home. Beyond that, past the Mistpeak Mountains lays the Eastern Kingdom, then beyond that, Samarkand. Once, they were connected to Albion by the Great Road, but that has long since fallen into ruin and banditry. Then comes the Ocean of Storms, beyond which, or so I have been told, is the land of Valinor. Then its just a little hop across the Great Sea to these lands." She tossed the apple over to her companion, "The world. Or at least, the world as it was told to me by Theresa."

To Be Continued...