-Dedicated to my best friend (once again!) Melissa!!
A/N: Oh MY! It's ME! Can you believe it? What was I up to for so long? See my Livejournal, (linked on profile) and never go frustrated again waiting for updates! On there will be secret revelations of upcoming chapters and responses to reviewers.
Chapter Fourteen: West Water
"Here lies one whose name was writ in water."-John Keats
"They never turn or pause to rest,
But onward to the shining West,
Like some swart serpent, fold on fold,
The long procession still is rolled.
But where they go, or what they seek,
Unguessed beyond the mountain lies…."
-Duncan J. Robertson
"Once more upon the waters! yet once more!And the waves bound beneath me as a steed
That knows his rider."
- Lord George Gordon Noel Byron
August 21
Disappointingly, their continued trek through the countryside was nearly identical, beautiful slopes and grass continuously passing by. Boromir did most of the talking to pass time, the twinging in Eva's back and neck kept her silent. The mare's gait was smooth and controlled, but it did nothing to help the aches from sleeping on the ground. They stopped riding as the sun began to fade, choosing the ground beside an outcropping of rocks for their camp. A wind whipped their hair and cloaks as they dismounted the mare, causing Boromir to glare in disdain at the sky.
"We had best spend the night on the east side of these stones, I fear this wind is not brief," he murmured while assisting Eva in unloading Hæstapa.
Since mid-afternoon, a western wind had assaulted them, blowing in their faces as they rode. Soon the sky passed into twilight, and they began to unroll their blankets for the night. The pang in Eva's muscles became pronounced, and she grimaced at the ground, detesting the forthcoming sleep. She could not help but notice Boromir's calm keenness as he spread out his things, as if looking forward to a good night's rest.
"How do you want to sleep on the ground?"
His head lifted somewhat loftily. "My life as a soldier of Gondor has accustomed me to living roughly at times."
Enviously she studied his handiwork, then decidedly dragged her things several yards, so that both of their "beds" were lying together.
"Perhaps your experience has something to do with it," she mumbled as they crawled beneath their respective blankets. She propped herself upon an elbow, a wide smirk on her face. "Or it could be that pillow you are hiding beneath your covers."
Hesitantly he pulled into view a lumpy sack that was tied off at the end with rope. "This is only my extra clothing."
"A laundry bag filled with clothes still counts as a pillow."
"I admit it," he said wearily. "That's the end of this business."
"No, it's only the beginning," she said slyly.
Unexpectedly she put her head on his shoulder, causing him to jolt. "What-"
"It's only fair if you serve as my head support and pillow."
"I find this a bit inane."
"Really, Lord Boromir?" she asked. "I seem to recall you crawling into my bed."
"Very well," he said amusedly, putting an arm around her shoulder. "You are a very steadfast woman."
"Sor-"
"But I admire you for it," he interrupted, before she could apologize. He closed his eyes and leaned back. "Good night."
"Good night," she sighed. "And thanks."
August 22
The plain grass appeared through the dim light, blurring for a second as the Man opened his eyes and blinked awake. It was the beginning of sunrise, but there was only silence in the air. He felt something warm and soft against his cheek, and glanced down with some confusion before realizing it was Eva. Gathering himself, he prepared to slip away from her, trying to nudge her gently off his shoulder. He couldn't move. She had him accidentally restrained, her arm across his chest and most of her weight leaned into him.
"Eva," he whispered urgently, wriggling his arm slightly. "Eva."
This movement rubbed his cheek stubble against her forehead, and she jerked at feeling it. Her blue eyes opened slowly and met his, before she closed them again, a content smile crossing her face.
"Good morning," she breathed.
"I have to get up," he said firmly. "Please."
"Sorry, I'm comfortable," she murmured. Keeping her grip on him, she slid her arm closer to her body. "My neck and back don't hurt anymore."
"Glad I was of service," he said sincerely. "But-"
Suddenly he freed himself, discreetly rolling her onto the blankets as he stood up. She gave him a dirty look and flopped back onto her side, shutting her eyes tightly. She heard his chain mail clink as he pulled it on, beginning to get dressed. For a few minutes, she ignored him, until she felt the blankets on top of and beneath her starting to slide away. Agitatedly she sat up, finding Boromir near her feet, the bedding being gathered in his hands.
"I got the message," she said weakly, getting to her knees. "Why are you in such a hurry?"
He handed her the other side of the blankets and she clumsily helped him with it. "I wish to be on the road soon."
Suspicious, she ran her eyes over him. "Alright."
.-.-.-.
The sun was high above them when they passed into the Westfold Vale. Their travel was much slower, Boromir often took a break off the horse and walked beside it as Eva rode. The mare seemed to appreciate the lightening of the load, her long flat stride transforming into the normal jaunt of a riding horse. Her passenger occasionally might ease back into the saddle and talk with the Man, or direct her into a canter on and off the trail in playfulness. After she circled back with the horse once more, Boromir finally urged her to stop the horse, wanting her to tag along. Curious, she dismounted, using the reins to lead the mare behind her, the leather strap wrapped tightly around her arm. They crested a low hill and Boromir halted her, pointing south as awe spread on his face. Off in the distance of the Vale, the green grass swept into a coomb below the mountains. In its midst stood an impressive fortress with high walls and a tower of great but ancient stone.
"Helm's Deep," he said quietly. "The famous hold of Rohan."
He glanced at Eva, to find that she was giving him an odd look. "What is it?"
"Held by Helm of Rohan in the winter of 2738 in the siege against Wulf and the Dunlendings."
"Yes," he said slowly, somewhat amazed, yet irked by her continued observance.
"It's just a coincidence we happened to get up early and turn slightly from our path and come across the great military hold-"
"Fine," he declared. "Perhaps that was my intent. Now will we approach the fortress?"
Eagerly he took a step in its direction, but Eva snatched him by the arm.
"We really can't," she said regretfully.
In astonishment, he turned to her, locking eyes in a searching gaze. "You must know how much this means to me," he said softly.
Unwillingly, she felt her resolve drop away, and she sighed, "Okay, Mr. Suave. You owe me one. Let's go."
August 23
The recent change in travel had changed their tempers about going so far, each found it exhausting when they varied the course of the day. The next morning they found the sun hidden behind a bank of clouds. It was much faster for them to pack up, their bed from the night needed less blankets when they shared it. With good humor, Boromir accepted that he was earmarked as Eva's permanent pillow, especially when they rode Hæstapa. The wind was still blowing as they set out, Eva grudgingly tucking her hair beneath her cloak so it would not hit Boromir in the face. A chill picked up as the wind shifted from the north, forcing both to pull their cloaks in and sit closer in the saddle.
Soon, after what they presumed to be noon, (the sun hidden) the landscape became obscure as a fog started rolling in around them. Both thought about stopping until it cleared, but the line of sight was clear for several yards and Hæstapa was attentive, using her senses and ability to keep on the road. Unexpectedly, the mare altered her pace, her ears pricked at the path before them. Right away Eva felt the small change, and faced ahead, Boromir doing the same as he saw Hæstapa's ears. He'd had enough experience with Nénar to know that it meant a horse was on alert.
Neither of them slowed her down, but instinctively Boromir slipped his hand off her hip and under his cloak, so his hand rested on his sword hilt. Distracted, Eva did it too, though it might not do any good, if the time came to use it. Her forearm rested against the scabbard belt around her waist, Théodred's politely accepted but unwanted gift to her companion. The left hand on her hip moved detectably, half-clenched and the thumb restless, a habit of his whenever he was troubled or thinking. It'd been the same way during the day they had left Edoras.
He had uncovered the belt curled up at the top of his pack…
"Oh Valar," Boromir muttered, standing up from his bag.
His companion looked up from her place near the fire, where she had been adding more wood into the small flame.
"What's wrong?" She saw his left fist clenched and a cloth wrapped item in his right hand, which he was regarding disdainfully.
"This belt, I thought it gone," he said, unwrapping it.
"I found it in a chair at the inn while packing last night. I was really surprised to find it in such a place."
"Very unusual," he said, not bothering to play innocent.
"Théodred meant well," she said helpfully.
"I'm sure," he responded flatly.
Purposeful, he picked up the sheathed blade that lay beside her on the ground, and slid the belt into the scabbard properly. She watched him confusedly.
"What-"
"Stand up," he ordered.
As she did so, he looped it around her waist, tightly knotting it off.
"I thought you were-"
Boromir shook his head.
"When-"
"Remember-"
"But-"
He still shook his head, smirking and his hand no longer clenched….
Boromir grasped her shoulder and squeezed it gently with his sword hand. "Eva?" he asked.
Suddenly she turned to him, smiling over her shoulder. "Hm? Sorry."
His head frontward, he nodded at the road. "There is the source of panic," he said amusedly.
The horse had traveled enough for them to discover five deer in the distance, two of them smaller than the others and all grazing on the roadside. Each raised their head as Hæstapa's hoof struck a stone, the metallic ringing causing the animals to flee. A small chuckle escaped her at remembering something her Aunt Maggie used to say every time they saw a deer in the crops. Before she had died, the fields were filled with plants and wild animals that sought the food. They could spend a whole afternoon watching their charades. "'My grandmother told me that Celts used to take deer as a symbol of change. I suppose they were right, every time they're deer around, the fields change because somebody takes a bite out of the corn, and there's a change in the change coming into our pockets.'"
"What is so amusing?" Boromir asked, having felt her laugh.
Realizing for a moment who she was actually talking to, she said, "Nothing."
Maybe her Aunt and Great-grandmother were on to something.
August 24
The fog continued on, occasionally lifting or lessening, though it was a constant nuisance. By late afternoon, the fog had mostly disappeared, but it was very dark for the daytime, grey clouds clogging the sky. Finally, the peaks of the Ered Nimrais were fully behind them, curving away south towards Gondor. The travelers were talking about their parents and relatives when Eva happened to feel a drop of water hit her shoulder.
Thinking in amazement it might be a tear, she interrupted him, "What was that? Are you okay?"
"What? Yes I am, why?" he asked, having not noticed.
Simultaneously they peered up at the sky, allowing raindrops to splash onto their noses and cheeks. They groaned loudly, and almost at once, it began to drizzle. She gripped the reins and her knees tighter, urging the horse increase the pace.
"We must seek shelter," he said.
The rain coincidentally thickened and rolled onto them in a torrent, thunder rumbling off in the distance. The clouds lit up blue with lightning, causing the horse to spontaneously speed up and her riders to anxiously search for shelter. It was very dangerous for them to remain out in the grassland, as they were, exposed to the elements and barely able to see anything. Frantically they galloped down the road, appraising piles of boulders and embankments, until they spotted two close growing trees. They hurried to reach them, their clothing drenched and hoods pulled high over their heads as they went beneath. Unfortunately, they noticed water still sufficiently dripped down onto their heads, and that lightning could strike the tall target. Boromir turned to her, pressed the reins into her palm, and met her in the eyes.
"Stay here," he said firmly. "I must find somewhere completely protective."
"You can't-"
"I mean it, stay right here, you shall be safe with the horse," he said in an authoritative manner.
Concernedly she watched his back disappear beyond the tree branches and impenetrable dark.
She yelled after him, "I'm more worried about you!"
The mare stamped her foot as lightning streaked across the sky, and she heard no answer.
.-.-.-.
Her head lifted as she heard snapping wood, but realized it was one of the branches breaking in the storm. The minutes seemed like hours, she had no idea how long ago Boromir had left. She huddled closer against Hæstapa, having urged the horse recently to lie down. The cold air tore at them, carrying a bad amount of rain right through the greenery, even hitting them with the damp leaves. Trancelike, she stared at the darkness over the boughs and the horse's side, watching where her companion had tramped away. Her head rested on Hæstapa's side, the mare smelling wet and horse-ish, but it was more of a comfort than a hindrance. Unexpectedly she heard an obscure sound from behind her. Whipping around, she saw next to the trunk, a hulking figure wrapped in the gloom, and she promptly screamed.
Horse and human leapt up in panic, and broke from the trees; Eva's blade unsheathed and held in the air as the figure came hurtling in their direction through the downpour. Lightning split the sky, blue light flashing upon them and gleaming in her sword and the intruder's, revealing a tall dark haired man.
"Boromir?" she gasped, her heart thudding madly.
Instinctively, she picked up Hæstapa's lead, (not that the horse had moved) and blindly grasped the arm that the Man held out to her. He drew her underneath the "shelter," his eyes wide and wild as he scrutinized her.
"What's wrong? Are you hurt?" he breathed.
He glanced at her exposed sword and she tucked it away sheepishly, inspiring him to do the same.
"I'm fine," she whispered. "I just thought you were- something."
"Good," he croaked with relief, half patting her on the back. "Come, follow me."
August 25
Thunder rumbled in the sky, resonating across the terrain, close to where the travelers were nestled. For the night, they had found shelter beneath a natural overhanging cleft in a high pile of boulders, just able to fit both of them and their belongings. It faced south away from the brunt of the storm, but the air around them was chilled, the wind carrying a far-reaching draft. The mare's head and left side was partially protected too, and inadvertently acted as a barrier to weather possibly assaulting from the west. A compromise had Boromir lying against her hindquarter; Eva curled atop him, secured by his arm, Hæstapa's lead wrapped around her free hand.
At dawn, routine and the storm woke him, and he opened his eyes slowly, still exhausted. It was comfortable and warm under the blanket, their body heat mutual and kept close, but nonetheless Boromir shivered. Their clothes were very damp from yesterday's encounter, their boots so waterlogged and cumbersome in the mud; they had removed them and gone barefoot. The dimmed early light allowed him to see his companion was asleep, and that water pooled on the hill slope below them. Rain and thunder continued to pound above them, a threat to any further traveling. It seemed to have lightened up, but he sighed perturbedly, pulling the coverlet higher on Eva's shoulder. Accidentally, his movement roused her, and she lifted her head, assessing him tiredly.
"Time to get up?" she asked halfheartedly.
"No, we have more than enough time," he said, stroking her head reassuringly. "Sleep."
.-.-.-.
Late in the morning, they crawled out from their shelter of stone, the storm over and on its way elsewhere. Sunlight streamed through the thinning banks of clouds, water only dripping from the trees or lying in deep puddles. Their clothing was streaked with dirt from the night and sloppy trail, and clumped on their boots as they walked. Hæstapa was in worse condition, her coat scruffy and stuck with mud, several pebbles lodged in her hooves. Wearily Eva worked her over with hoof pick and comb, until she could do no more. Boromir began to facetiously comment that he could no longer see a difference between her and the mare in smell or sight. She retorted by playing keep away with his precious sword, darting and yelping whenever he came close to her.
"Eva!" he shouted after her, as she ran away once more.
.-.-.-.
Their liveliness prevailed through the day, a result of endured extremities through the days before. With every step, they went deeper into the Gap of Rohan. Through miles of puddles and bunged mud their path led, until short of sun fall the Great West Road crossed with the sheer Isen. The Misty Mountains rose high and formidable in the north, its peaks piercing the sky were greater than most of the Ered Nimrais. The riders dismounted and stood on the Isen's shore, gazing at the land that opened like a shadowed green haze in the distance. This was a marker for how far they had come to the day, and hope rose in their hearts at surveying the vista, but Eva's was eclipsed by doubt.
The mountains seemed foreboding as they ran away to their right, and the wide emptiness held the true wild, which seemed ready to clasp some uncertain Doom tighter about them. Suddenly, she shook her head to rid these daunting thoughts from her mind, there was nothing to fear with her valiant friend at her side. The thing she was truly uneasy about was the crucial crossing of the Isen. Its water flowed at no extraordinary pace over rocks and ground, but was whole and strong in movement, looking very deep overall.
"We traverse here," Boromir said musingly. He pointed at two marker poles that stood parallel with each other, two yards from the edge of the water. "I do not fancy becoming wet; all I can achieve is keeping most of everything dry."
"Wonderful," she said bitterly. "Another river- and more water."
"Worrying will not help you," he said, bending over to remove his boots. Trying to urge her, he motioned with his hand to her dress. "You shall have to undress too; you cannot cross in all of that."
She gawked at his suggestion. "Um, no thanks. I'd rather be soaked and scratched than sitting naked on a horse in a rushing river with a Man in the middle of nowhere. In these circumstances."
Painfully, he restrained his laughter, and struggled to correct her. "I meant- as many layers possible."
She made a face at and fidgeted with her sleeve, but he stared her down until she relented. "Fine, no looking though until I'm ready to go."
After five-minute toil, they were down to one layer each, most of their clothes and boots removed while avoiding the dirt. Without turning an eye in his direction, she immediately packed her things away and began to strap their bags higher on the horse, so they would not be damaged or lost. A bare arm brushed hers as Boromir joined in, affectionately securing his armory above the other gear and the mare's croup. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him studying her.
"Why are you doing that?"
"This," he said pointing, pointing to her healing cuts. One was a long thin scab on her upper right arm; another on her leg was wider and not as mended. "I did not know they were like that, your clothes hid them."
Her hand tugged habitually at her linen shift, decorated at the edges with simple white embroidery, a neckline that dipped low from its wide straps for the shoulders, and ended three inches below the knees. She'd regretted wearing her shorter shift in the chillier air, but it was fine now that it was mysteriously warmer, the summer returning after foul weather had passed.
"It was worse before my bruises healed," she said dispassionately.
He lifted an eyebrow, but did not pursue the subject. Instead, he turned to the Isen and went in until his ankles were underwater. At his bid, Eva timidly trudged in after him, Hæstapa's line held tightly. When their shins were submerged, a puzzled Boromir leaned down, peering at the markers. A series of weathered but clear inscriptions were cut into the wood.
Flyd Pleoh:
-
Heah
-
Midd
-
Lyt
-
The river lapped beneath "midd," and Boromir stared at it, thoughtfully rubbing his chin.
"I guess it means: 'Flood something is at middle?'" Eva said helpfully.
"I was afraid of this," he said aloud, then mumbled. "Théodred…damn…was right…"
Inquisitively she regarded him. "Boromir?"
"Hmm?"
"What about Théodred?"
He froze and fell silent, facing her slowly. The cornered glint in his eyes told her there was something hidden from her.
"I thought we agreed to tell each other everything?"
"I may have heard from Théodred," he admitted resignedly. "That this is flood season, when much rain is expected."
"Great, we could've been past here long ago?"
"Not quite," he answered, standing up. "In fact, we shall leave at this moment. All right?"
"Okay."
Quietly, she mounted and made room for him, allowing him to grip the saddle and put his left foot into the stirrup. Abruptly his right foot slipped in the pebbled bank, jolting him backwards. Automatically he clutched at the horse, and Eva instantly grabbed his arm. The saddle jilted but held, and Hæstapa swung her head agitatedly, wondering what the Man was doing.
"Whoa," he huffed. Encouragingly he pat the horse's side.
"It'll take more than a Gondorian soldier to move a two ton horse," she said, while helping him get up behind her.
Purposely he pulled her tightly to him and growled good-naturedly, starting the horse off at a fast but safe pace. Hæstapa's hooves splashed as she moved on and watched her balance because of the added weight of humans and belongings. The female passenger clearly was on edge, a strong hold on her sides with the knees, and in her mane. As the water came up to their feet, the anxiety grew until Boromir was able to feel it also, perceptive because he wore no shirt. Her hand that grasped his wrist was quavering, and he felt it on the skin of her back.
"You're trembling," he whispered.
"Oh," she said feebly, gazing at him over her shoulder. "Just a little uneasy."
"Do not worry. Rivers are safe, particularly when I am near," he announced. "My brother and I swam across the Anduin's width during battle!"
Reassuringly he squeezed her waist with his arm, and lowered his head above her shoulder. His half cocoon relaxed her considerably, the extra warmth comforting though it was a nice day. They were up to their knees when Hæstapa's hoof abruptly slipped, severely jolting her riders and disconnecting them, her strained balance hurtling Boromir off her back. Eva cried out and spun in the saddle, in time to see her companion disappear beneath the waves several feet away. She nearly tumbled off the horse as she desperately plunged her hand into the river to help him. Her fingers closed on nothing, the Isen's surface hid everything from her eyes above, as she frantically sought him.
"Boromir! BOROMIR!"
Rohirric Meanings:
-"Flyd Pleoh," means: "flood danger:"
- "Heah," means: "high."
- "Midd," means: "middle."
- "Lyt," means: "light."
Other:
What in the world are those parts on a horse? I marked the horse anatomy that I was using in the story on a picture. Go to theofficial "Of Earth and Water" page where you can find it and the family tree of Eva.
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The boring stuff…
I'm my worst critic on paper, but I can't pick out errors too often on my own digitally displayed papers, please excuse any errors, they will always be fixed in the future.
I guess its time for a disclaimer; I haven't done one in a while. I own Eva, Hæstapa, and the claim to other original characters and places in this story, blablabla, Tolkien owns the Lord of the Rings Characters and Places and related, All Rights Reserved Two thousand Four, so and so forth, I'm only invading his imagination with my imagination.