Here's chapter 14 ! So sorry again for the small delay and thank you so much for reading/favouring/following/commenting this story, this is awesome !

Only at dawn, after a long night rest, were the five companions able to leave for the lands of Rohan.

Aragorn had eventually collapsed after having bound and treated the nasty looking wound on Boromir's upper arm. Hopefully, the red haired man had caught the Ranger before he could fall backwards.

"Take it easy. You need to rest too." said Boromir.

"Mmh... N-Nay... G'mli... I need to... treat... Can't rest..." the man mumbled in a weak voice.

Legolas immediately got up from the stone he had been sitting on, wincing as it awoke the pain in his side and leg, and went to the Ranger, followed closely by Gimli. The Elf put a hand on Aragorn's shoulder :

"Yes, you can, mellon-nîn. We will take care of Gimli's wounds by ourselves and your own injuries need to be tended to soon."

"N-Nay..." the dark haired man tried again, but the Elf threw him his kingly look before ordering :

"Your injuries cannot be denied any longer, Aragorn. Lie back, we can take care of this."

"Don't worry about me, lad," Gimli added, "I have been through much worse."

The man could do nothing but comply and so, he allowed Legolas to gently lay his tired body down. The Elf sighed. He had stopped counting the times he had had to do this long ago. Though, he, himself, wasn't bad at it either.

And now here they were. Only fields laid before them, seemingly endless. That was both good news and bad news.

Good because, now, their enemies weren't hidden to them anymore.

Bad because they weren't hidden either.

And Isengard was close... They would have to move quickly, but in their current state, that was nearing the impossible. With a heavily limping Elf and Man, a multiply-wounded dwarf, a half-drowned man and one that bore a previously poisoned wound on his upper arm, even being able to manage walking was a miracle. Yet this was their only way. And so they took it.

The Sun was hitting them painfully, ordering them to stop, weakening them even more. Their breaks were rare, short and restless, and they took it only when they sensed that one of them was about to collapse from pain or exhaustion.

They were pale. All of them. Looking almost like ghosts or living-deads.

Faramir had had another foresight. From Lord Denethor and the Palantír, again. But this time, he managed it. Barely, but he still managed, which was surprising seeing how weakened he was. Maybe that meant that Sauron was now definitely out ? He hoped so. Yet, he was worrying. Every time the Steward touched that evil stone, it made Gondor more vulnerable, and the young Ranger still wondered if he had made the right choice by joining the Fellowship. He had saved Boromir's life, yes, but there was nothing he could do now to help his City and the Steward. No, his Father. His Father... The word felt odd in his mind... The kind of man capable of making his child to suffer like this to possibly avoid himself an hypothetical pain could not be called a father. The only thing his youngest had ever wanted was to hear him say 'I love you', and he had not said it just once. Why ? Because his father was a pure egoist. At least, Faramir now knew that the Ste-... His Father's disrespect and lack of consideration was only because of his own fear and selfishness. Faramir could do nothing against it.

Boromir was supporting his brother, hardly. He didn't feel so good. His brow kept abundantly sweating, yet he felt so cold... But Aragorn had assured him the poison in his wound was gone...

'I just need some rest. It'll surely pass once we get in Rohan and I could sleep properly.'

Alas, they were still so far away from Édoras...

Boromir sighed, but this was quickly followed by a small coughing fit which left him pretty out of breath.

"Are you alright, Boromir ?" he heard his brother's raspy and concerned voice rose beside him.

"I'll survive." he answered, placing a grin on his face. His brother gave him a worried and unconvinced look, but Boromir quickly dismissed it with a small lie :

"Don't worry about me, little one, I just swallowed wrong."

There was no point in telling the truth, it would be only worry his brother even more for nothing.

In his normal state, maybe Faramir would have noticed the unsteadiness in his brother's voice or the slight tremor of his lips. But this time, he did not and turned his head away.

"Do you think King Théoden will welcome us ?"

The sudden change of subject caught Boromir by surprise. He did not expect his brother to just give up on him like that.

"I... I don't know," was his confused reply, "Why wouldn't he ?"

"It is said that the man would have become different, that he wouldn't be the fair, sensible, caring King we are used to anymore." Faramir explained in his still hoarse voice, concern easily detectable in it.

Boromir's brow furrowed at the words. He, too, had heard the rumour, but Gondor and Rohan hadn't been in very good terms lately, so he hadn't paid much mind to it. Yet, now, the man realised that, if the rumor proved to be right, this could cause a problem. What would become of them if they weren't granted hospitality in Édoras ?

The man quickly dismissed the thought with a shake of his head. Now was not the time. They had enough issues to face already.

"What kind of man would be silly enough to refuse the Heir of Isildur as his host ?" he answered, trying to soothe the younger man's trouble.

"Our Father ?" came the acerbic reply. Boromir winced. Unfortunately, Faramir had a point.

'Do not worry about that.' he wanted to tell him, but was interrupted by a sudden and powerful headache that forced him to stop and made him groan in pain. All the faces turned to him and Faramir released himself from his brother's support, face filled with concern.

"Brother, what is it ?" he asked hurriedly. Boromir didn't answer, for he was too occupied to somehow regain his breath. Aragorn limped to him and grabbed his shoulder, observing the pained man's face intently.

"I think we need to take another break." the new leader of the companions said, after a long study.

"N-Nay..." Boromir tried between two hard breaths, "We cannot... Be delayed..."

"Very well, then, you are ordered to take a break." Aragorn told him in a gentle yet firm tone. Boromir opened his mouth, ready to argue, but the dark haired man spoke first :

"Are you contesting your King's orders, Captain ?"

Oh ! No one knew how much it cost the Ranger to say those words... He hated having to use his title as a way to convince him... Yet this seemed to be the only way to avoid Boromir from passing out during their walk, taking his brother with him. Hopefully, the red haired man seemed to take this with a hint of humour, not the least offended :

"C-Certainly not... Sire," the pained man answered, placing a grin on his face as he uttered the last word. He knew how much Aragorn hated to be referred to with his official title. But his smile quickly left his face as he was overtook by another strong headache which forced him to sit down with a groan. Less than a second later, his brother was knelt beside him.

"Boromir ?" he asked worriedly. Boromir wished he could have answered, reassured him, but the pain in his head was too strong, he couldn't form any coherent words or thoughts. His only answer was a grunt.

"What's wrong with him ?" he heard a low voice, probably Gimli's, ask tiredly.

"A heatstroke, probably. We should carry him to those rocks." Aragorn's voice answered. The rest of the conversation was nothing more than a blur to Boromir. He wasn't able to identify the voices anymore.

"I can carry him, Aragorn. You take care of Faramir."

"I can walk by myself. You won't be able to carry him alone, Legolas. Let me help you."

"No, you need to rest. I'll help Legolas."

"You both bear leg wounds. I do not.'

He heard nothing more and had to close his eyes as the pain increased. He did not pass out, though, for he was still very aware of the strong ache in his head. The next thing he was aware of was his arms being passed over strong shoulders and he felt himself being lifted up and carried somewhere. He was trying his best to make his legs to walk, but it looked as if he had no control over them anymore, so he gave up, eventually, and let himself being carried. He didn't open his eyes until they laid him on the ground and he felt a cold breeze brushing his cheeks. The pale faces of Gimli and Faramir were staring at him silently, worriedly, while Aragorn and Legolas seemed deep in discussion. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but it did not seem were pleasant. Boromir winced. He felt so odd, like if his very mind was aching. He had suffered heatstrokes before, but none of them had left him so... weak... confused... so weird...

He closed his eyes again, rubbing his temples. The shadow made him feel a bit better, though. He felt less hot.

As he heard no more words being spoken by Aragorn and Legolas, he opened them. Legolas was standing tall and alert.

"Something is coming." he stated, staring at the horizon. Boromir forced himself to sit up, or at least, he tried, but had to be help by his brother and Gimli. His muscles felt so sore...

'I definitely need some sleep.'

"Horses. Quite a lot of them. Riding fast." the Elf continued. All the faces were turned to him.

"Are they friends or enemies ?" Aragorn asked him. The Elf furrowed his brow in concentration, still staring at the horizon. The sound of the incoming horses was now easily hearable by everyone.

"Lord Éomer's Éored !" Legolas finally let out in recognition. Every Fellow let out a breath of relief. They were certainly in no condition of facing a new enemy. And maybe the Éored could ride them to Édoras and end their suffering.

A few minutes later, they were surrounded by the Rohirrim. Every companion stood before them, except for Boromir, still sitting on the grass, and his brother, kneeled beside him. A blond horseman made his horse to take a step forward and dismounted, turning his face to the two gondorians on the ground and bowing slightly.

"Lord Boromir, Lord Faramir, it is a pleasure to see you again."

"Pleasure shared, Lord Éomer," was all Boromir could get out of his mouth before he was overtook by another wave of pain in his head and grunted. That made no sense...

"Boromir !" Faramir cried in alarm, grasping his brother's shoulder tightly. Éomer bore a look of complete confusion on his face.

"Lord Éomer," Aragorn spoke hurriedly, "I am afraid my companions and I are in dire need of assistance. We are all hurt and exhausted and have no place or means to rest or heal-"

"We will take you to Édoras." Éomer spoke before Aragorn could finish. A look of pure relief passed on the Ranger's face as he spoke.

"You have my deepest and most sincere thanks, my Lord."

"My Lord ?" one of the Rohirrim spoke, addressing Éomer, "We cannot go back to Édoras. King Théoden and Gríma will have our heads cut off after what we did."

Éomer sighed at the thought but quickly answered.

"Baldwig, these men are alone and wounded. It is our duty to provide them healing and shelter. Or maybe you would prefer to go and explain to Lord Denethor how we met his sons on the road but decided to leave them behind. And I can promise you that you will regret not to have your head already cut off when you will stand before him." Éomer replied sharply. Faramir and Boromir winced at the words. They both now that was the exact way their Father would have reacted.

"Everything is settled, then. Baldwig, Deorwine, Celmund, Ethelward and Torfrith, you will take one of these men with you."

Legolas sighed when he saw that every face was turned to him as he easily and lightly mounted behind Torfrith.

'Oh, please, not a saddle...'

There you are ! I think the next chapter will be centered around Frodo and the others, but I am not completely sure yet.Also, it might take me a bit longer to write the next chapter, because I managed to injure my hand while packing my stuff, so I can't write very fast...