Chapter 26

Mel saw the faintest hint of sunlight peeking through her cabin window. She sighed and swung out of bed, still feeling a little nauseous from her dream. Or vision. Because it had been real, she had never even considered that it wasn't. Yavanna had saved Boromir last night and Mandos was pissed. It was the one consequence Mel hadn't considered since saving Boromir's life at Amon Hen. It had never occurred to her that the Valar might not like what she had done, or that Yavanna might have acted without the consent of her siblings.

"Calenhiril?"

The tree's slight, trembling voice jerked Mel out of her thoughts.

"The Son of Gondor comes."

As if on cue, there was a faint knock on her door. If she hadn't already been awake, she probably wouldn't have heard it. She padded over to the door and opened it. Boromir stood there, dressed and ready as always, but he seemed quiet and reserved this morning, almost self-conscious.

"I hope I didn't wake you." he said softly.

She thought back to that unobtrusive knock and rolled her eyes

"With a knock like that I doubt you could have woke up anyone." she teased.

A relieved grin spread over his face, as if he had been waiting for her to speak. And for the briefest of moments, Mel thought she could kill for him. The thought was fleeting and she immediately felt guilty for it, but it was there.

"I thought if you were awake, we might continue your sword lessons," he said, "In private, of course."

Mel managed a smile and nodded.

"Sure, give me a few minutes."

She started to close the door, but Boromir put a hand out and stopped her.

"Melody?"

She looked up and his expression was serious.

"How did you sleep?"

For a moment she wasn't sure what to say.

Oh fine, except I found out that we've royally pissed off the Valar and now I may have to kill someone to save your life because I love you.

Somehow, that just didn't have the ring of something that she wanted to discuss with him right now. Or ever. Then she remembered the dream she'd had before the vision. And that wonderful feeling of not being alone. She smiled.

"Better," she answered truthfully, "Much better."

His face relaxed into a pleased smile. He nodded.

"I will wait for you outside."

Mel got ready as quickly as possible, pulling on her boots and straightening her clothes. She was starting to feel grimy and suddenly she couldn't wait to get to Minas Tirith, if only to take a bath and get some clean clothes. But at the same time, Minas Tirith made her shiver. Denethor came creeping into the corners of her mind. He had to know by now that his oldest son was coming home. Mel wondered what that had done to his demeanor. And did Faramir know? Would he be expecting his brother to come to Osgiliath? Now that Mel knew the Valar were gunning for him, Mel felt even more certain that Osgiliath was the last place they should be. But what could she say? If she told Boromir it was too dangerous, he would go anyway because that's just who he was. He laughed in the face of danger. On the other hand, if she convinced him that everything was fine, he would eventually find out she had lied to him and he might never forgive her. Still, was that such a large price to pay if it kept him alive a little longer?

She came outside thoroughly distracted. Boromir was waiting just outside the door, so she quickly tried to clear her mind and relax her face. He didn't seem to notice. They walked a few paces into the forest and emerged in a little clearing with short, cropped grass. It looked like a place the Wardens might allow the horses to graze.

"I thought we might work on your footwork today." Boromir said.

Mel nodded, still feeling a little distracted, "Sure, okay."

They drew swords, but instead of a full-blown fight, Boromir started slow, working her through basic exercises and watching her foot placement, correcting her when necessary. Which was often. Mel tried to focus, but her thoughts kept wandering. The slow pace made it difficult for her to keep her mind where she was. She kept thinking about the dream and Osgiliath. What was she going to do?

Suddenly she tripped and toppled backward onto her butt. Boromir was standing over her, looking concerned and possibly a trifle amused, but he managed to keep that mostly to himself.

"You see? You cannot put left over right like that or you'll get tangled up," He gave her his hand and pulled her to her feet, "Are you alright?"

She brushed off the seat of her pants, "Nothing hurt but my pride, I guess."

Her arms were killing her, but she wasn't going to say anything about that. It was all the slow motion with that heavy sword.

He nodded and raised his own blade, "Again, and mind your feet this time."

They went a little faster and Mel doubled her efforts to pay attention. When they were through, she actually felt like she might have learned something and it felt good. It had been a long time since she'd had a proper lesson, back in Rivendell with Elladan.

Something about Elladan wriggled in the back of her mind, something she was forgetting. It followed her back to the Wardens' campfire, whispering teasingly as someone handed her a bowl of hash. It was the seventh of March. The date loomed up out of the recesses of her mind and she tried to think. What happened on the seventh of…?

And then it hit her. At some point in the night, if Mel was remembering correctly, Elladan and Elrohir, along with Dunedain out of Rivendell, had met up with the Rohirrim and the Three Hunters, including Legolas. Together, they would soon face the Paths of the Dead. Mel shivered. That was one place she was glad she would never have to visit. She didn't envy her friends one bit, but at the same time she missed them. She missed the hobbits too. She knew they would be alright, but she missed their sweet innocent faces. That was something she would never get back. This was going to change them forever and it made her kind of sad.

A stray sentence from the Wardens' conversation cut into her thoughts.

"Did you hear that strange thunder last night?"

She jumped and looked up at the two men eating their breakfast close to her and to Boromir. The second man nodded and spoke around a mouthful of hash.

"Aye. Not a cloud in the sky, but I could've sworn I heard something. Strange and unnatural. But then, we live in strange and unnatural times now."

Mel glanced at Boromir. He was staring at the men, but he briefly met her eyes. Mel wondered if she was the only one who had heard Yavanna's voice. Had everyone else just heard thunder?

Mel leaned into Boromir's side and lowered her voice.

"Did you hear her?"

Boromir nodded as he stirred his hash absently.

"Not yet."

So Boromir had heard it too. But why? Why had Boromir heard the voice and not the other men? Mel figured she'd heard it simply because she was the Calenhiril. But what was Boromir's connection? Was it simply because he was alive when he should be dead? That seemed unlikely, but they couldn't talk about it now, with all these people around.

In what felt like no time at all, they were fully outfitted with horses and fresh provisions, and on their way again. In the bright sunlight of morning, the events of last night seemed distant, almost like one of her nightmares. But Mel still put the trees on alert until they left the safety of the woods, and when they passed the last of the trees she felt just a twinge of uneasiness. But Boromir seemed in no hurry today. They ambled along at a moderate pace.

"I thought we were in some kind of a rush." Mel said.

Boromir shook his head.

"No longer, Melody. We could not possibly cover the distance between the next two beacons in a single day. I see no reason to tire the horses or ourselves unnecessarily."

Since it looked like they were going to be keeping this pace for the rest of the day, Mel thought it was probably as good a time as any to talk about what they had overheard this morning.

"So you heard Yavanna last night?"

Boromir nodded solemnly.

"I did."

"Why is that, do you think?"

He shrugged, "I do not pretend to understand the minds of the Valar. Perhaps she simply deemed it necessary that I hear."

"But why?" Mel insisted, "Why now? I mean, I have the Yavannacor so I figure that's why I heard it. But why just you and no one else?"

There was a pause. Boromir seemed to be considering his answer very carefully, and in the meantime something else occurred to Mel. Something fishy. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"And for that matter, how did you even know it was her?"

Boromir jumped a little, then glanced at her almost nervously.

"What do you mean?"

The more Mel thought about it, the stranger it seemed.

"I said Yavanna, and you didn't even question it. Didn't surprise you at all. How would you know it was her unless…?"

The explanation practically fell into Mel's lap. She stared at Boromir with wide eyes, but he seemed reluctant to meet her gaze.

"She's talked to you before," Mel said softly, "Hasn't she?"

He sighed like a man defeated.

"Yes, she has spoken to me."

Mel stared at him for another long moment.

"When?"

"The first time was nearly two weeks ago, before I came to Isengard."

"Wait a minute, what do you mean 'the first time'? She's talked to you more than once?"

Boromir nodded.

"I've had… strange dreams. And she came to me in Halfirien as well."

"And you never told me?" Mel asked, completely stunned and a little hurt. Yavanna had been speaking to him all this time and she hadn't even known it?

"I didn't believe it myself at first. I don't put much stock in dreams."

"But a dream is the reason you went to Rivendell in the first place!"

"Were it not for my brother having the same dream before me, I might never have gone. He and my father put more faith in dreams than I. I believe in things that are tangible, things I can feel and see. It is difficult for me to accept anything else."

"But you believe now?"

Boromir gave her a wry smile.

"I have seen too much not to believe."

"Well, what did she say?" Mel asked, trying to sound casual, but really she was dying to know. Did Boromir know his life was in danger? Surely not or he wouldn't be running headlong to meet it, right?

"Mostly she has been worried about you," he said, and Mel relaxed marginally, "First, for obvious reasons, your rescue was her main concern. Afterward she spoke to me of your fear, how it hindered her from communicating with you."

He glanced at Mel.

"So I suppose she has spoken to you before as well."

Mel pointedly turned her head and concentrated on the road. She didn't like where this was going. He knew about her visions in Isengard, but she didn't want to tell him about her choice in Lothlorien, or about her most recent dream. If Yavanna hadn't seen fit to inform him of the dilemma then that's the way she would keep it. She didn't think she could bear to tell him.

They trotted in silence for a few moments and Mel was just beginning to wonder if this would be a good time to broach the subject of Osgiliath, when Boromir spoke again.

"My brother has always believed in dreams."

Mel perked up, curious.

"His mind is more open to such things I suppose. I have always lived in the world I see. I've never seen the wisdom in dreaming up more trouble in a world beyond my own. You could say I see only a portrait where Faramir sees a mural. He has always been able to look beyond and see possibilities I could not. He is much like our father in that respect."

Mel suppressed a shiver. She didn't want to talk about Denethor. She was still hoping she wouldn't have to, that the point would be moot. After all, he knew Boromir was alive now. Maybe that would be all it took to keep him from falling apart, from becoming the maniac Mel knew that he could be. But Mel was having trouble finding comfort in that. A nut was a nut and all it took was a little bit of pressure to make it crack…

"Melody?"

She jumped and looked back at Boromir. He was staring at her curiously.

"What were you thinking about?" he asked.

Mel thought for a moment and then shrugged.

"Nuts."

He narrowed his eyes, as if he didn't quite believe her, but she just smiled at him until finally he shook his head and returned the smile.

"Your mind goes to such strange places."

"I know."

There was a pause and Mel decided that she couldn't avoid the subject any longer.

"Are you still planning to go to Osgiliath?"

Boromir nodded.

"I keep hearing strange reports. They say it is poorly guarded and the assaults are frequent. Many expect it to fall soon if something isn't done. I need to see for myself and do what I can, then take a report back to Father. Perhaps he is not aware that the situation is so dire."

"Or maybe everyone's just over exaggerating a little bit," Mel said, trying her best to sound ignorantly casual, "You know the more a story's told the worse it gets and these guys are pretty far from Osgiliath. Maybe it just grew out of proportion."

Boromir shook his head distractedly.

"All the more reason I should assess the situation myself. If the city is holding then that will be good news to take back to Minas Tirith."

Mel's idea to convince him that everything was fine clearly wasn't going to work. He was going, one way or the other. Her stomach clenched. She decided to drop all pretenses and move on to something more desperate.

"Don't go."

Well, she had been hoping for something a bit more subtle. Boromir pulled his horse up short and stared at her. She set her jaw and met his eyes steadily.

"Don't go to Osgiliath."

He examined her face for several seconds, his brow furrowed.

"Why, Melody?" He asked, "Why do you not want me to go?"

"Because there's nothing you can do," She blurted out, "Everybody's right, Osgiliath is practically defenseless and Sauron knows it. He's gonna hit you there first and there's no way for you to stop it and I realize that by telling you all this it just means that you're gonna go anyway, but I had to try and do something to stop you because I don't know what might happen."

Boromir's face grew more and more grave as the words came tumbling out of Mel's mouth. Finally, Mel took a shuddering breath and waited. She didn't know what else to do. After a moment, Boromir sighed and reached out to cover her hand with his own.

"Dear Melody, how difficult this will be for you to understand." he whispered.

"You're still going, aren't you?" she said, less a question, more an admission of defeat.

"My people will be there," he said, "Even if they fight a lost battle, I cannot abandon them to their fate."

As he started to turn his horse away and something inside Mel broke, some barrier in her mind, and out of it emerged a possibility, something that she never would have considered before. But now she was desperate.

"Faramir is there."

Once again Boromir pulled up short. Mel stared at his back, taking only a nanosecond to choose her next words.

"In the book he escapes the city unharmed. But if you go I don't know what will happen to him."

There was a long pause. Mel swallowed and waited. It was a dirty move and not one she would have thought she was capable of making. He would be angry at her, she was sure of it. She could see it in the way his shoulders tensed. But she was willing to endure his anger if it kept him safe. She'd endured his anger before. Her back ached at the memory.

When he finally turned back his face was made of stone, his mouth etched in a bitter smile.

"I did not think you had it in you to be cruel, Melody. It appears I have underestimated you yet again."

Mel flinched. His expression, or rather his lack of expression, hurt more than his words.

"I'm sorry," She stuttered, "I just… I just…"

I just can't lose you again.

But she couldn't say the words. She had lost him once. When she was in Isengard, he was dead to her and it had nearly killed her. She couldn't do it again. She wouldn't.

Boromir turned and started down the road again.

"You have given me much to consider," he said, his voice cold and empty, "Perhaps it would be best if we continued our journey for a while in silence."

Mel's horse followed his without any prompting. As she followed behind him, she allowed herself one single tear that she furiously wiped away. Damn it, why did she have to do this? She had to keep him safe. What else was she supposed to do?