Camille sighed, and picked up her bow again, shouldering it. Going back to the clearing where she and Eli had first fought, she picked up all the undamaged arrows she could find, cleaning them as best as she could and putting them into her quiver. When she saw that some of Eli's kunai were lying around, she picked those up too. No sense in leaving them lying around when she might need them.
While she worked, her thoughts continued to circle on Boromir and what he had told her. To think that all this time…and not once did I know… He was an awfully good actor. But she knew that she did not love him as more than a friend. He probably knew that Legolas loved me, and felt he couldn't compete. All the better that he didn't, but…he didn't have to DIE!!! I want to think that I helped him somehow!!! She straightened, and closed her eyes. "Why did it have to BE that way?!?!"
"Do not blame yourself, Camille."
Camille opened her eyes, and saw Aragorn leaning against a nearby tree trunk, looking at her with a sympathetic gaze. She sighed, and quickly wiped away the tears that beaded at the corners of her eyes. "Why do you say that?"
The Ranger smiled at her kindly. "Boromir knew that you would not return his love, that when the time came you would bind yourself to Legolas. He only wished for your happiness, Camille. He was content to watch you from a distance, to take pleasure in the banter you shared with him, to bask in the light of your smile whether it was meant for him or not. The thought of you kept him away from the Ring; whenever he felt the Ring luring him, he would turn to you, and all thoughts of it would vanish."
Camille felt her mouth fall open slightly. I…I kept him away from the Ring? "How did you know this? And if so, why didn't he stay away from the Ring this time around?"
"He told me before he passed away. And as for his being tempted at last this final time, I believe that the poison of the Ring had finally become too strong for him to resist. By then, not even the thought of you was sufficient," Aragorn answered. He approached her then, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Now think no more of these thoughts. Legolas awaits you at the riverside. Go to him now; I will remain here for a moment to plan our next course."
Camille paused, and looked for a long moment at Aragorn. After a while, she smiled, and kissed him on the cheek with sisterly affection. "You know what, Aragorn? It's a pity you don't have any siblings; you'd have been a great older brother. Thanks a lot."
* * *
Legolas waited patiently for either Aragorn or Camille to appear from the woods where Camille had gone to earlier to pick up whatever of her arrows remained undamaged. Fearing that something would happen to her, Legolas wanted to go and keep her company, but Aragorn stayed him, saying that it would not be a wise thing for him to go hither, not after that revelation Boromir revealed. Instead, the Man offered to go and speak with her himself, while he thought about which course they would now take.
He heard footsteps coming back towards them, and from the tread, he knew that it was Camille who was returning. She soon walked through towards the clearing, her face still sad, but it seemed as though a heavy burden had been lifted from her, for she now carried her head a little higher, and Legolas could see the faint glow of her old determination returning to her eyes. He smiled slightly to himself. Aragorn's words have done wonders. I must thank him later on.
Camille stood beside him now, looking at the boats. "So what're we going to do?"
Gimli shrugged from where he sat sharpening his axe. "Aragorn will decide. As you have perhaps noticed, one of the boats is missing, and Sam's pack is gone as well. We can only presume that Frodo and Sam have gone off together to Mordor."
"Oh," Camille muttered with a frown. "So that's it for the Fellowship, huh? Frodo and Sam have gone off to Mordor, Merry and Pippin have been taken…what are we supposed to do now? Follow Frodo and Sam? Or go after Merry and Pip?"
"We shall follow the Orcs."
Legolas turned round, and saw Aragorn coming towards them. There was a light in his eyes that seemed to say he had come to a decision, and that it would be one he would abide by. "Then we shall go after the two Halflings?"
The Dunadan nodded, face grave. "We shall. I would have guided Frodo to Mordor and gone with him to the end; but if I seek him now in the wilderness, I must abandon the captives to torment and death. My heart speaks clearly at last: the fate of the Bearer is in my hands no longer. The Company has played its part. Yet we that remain cannot forsake our companions while we have strength left. Come! We will go now. Leave all that can be spared behind! We will press on by day and dark!"
That said, they began to make their preparations. They drew one of the boats up onto the shore, and beneath it hid the things they would not need for the journey. Then they left Parth Galen, heading for the clearing where the cherry tree now stood, and searched for the trail of the Orcs.
It was not that difficult to find. Camille smirked, and pointed to a path that ran clear through the trees, without a single bush or shrub in it. "If all Orcs leave a trail like that, I think we'd be able to follow them by day OR night. They're not exactly discreet about where they're going, are they?"
"But they go with a great speed for all that," said Aragorn, "and they do not tire. And later we may have to search for our path in hard bare lands."
"That shouldn't be a problem," Camille said thoughtfully. "Didn't Boromir say that Eli was on their trail? If that's the case, then she'll most likely leave signs for us to follow if she thinks they're necessary."
Gimli snorted. "But would the Orcs not find her signs?"
There was a glint in Camille's eye. "Oh, they won't. You'll see later on why I can talk like this." She started on the path the Orcs had made, her step sure and light. She turned back to look at them, and for a while, Legolas saw that she was back to her old self, and what was more, she was eager to take part in the race that was laid out before them. "Well what are you guys standing there for?! I want to get to those Orcs as soon as I can, and when I get my hands on them, I'll blow them sky-high!"
Legolas laughed, and Gimli and Aragorn laughed with him. They raced after Camille, watching as she ran like a graceful doe over earth and grass, over rock and dust. The hunt was up, and they would not stop until they had succeeded.
* * *
"Wait!"
Camille ground to a halt when she heard Aragorn's voice, and nearly ran right over Gimli. "What is it, Aragorn?"
The Ranger turned to her then, his gray eyes glinting darkly in the dim moonlight. "Let us rest for a moment while I decide which course we must take next. The Orc-trail goes down in the valley, but there it is lost. Let us pause here a moment while I think."
"Which way would they turn, do you think?" asked Legolas. "Northward to take a straighter road to Isengard, or Fangorn, if that is their aim as you guess? Or southward to strike the Entwash?"
While the males thus occupied themselves, Camille drifted over to the nearby ridge that overlooked the valley, and closed her eyes, concentrating. In a soft whisper, she said, "Oh great winds that see and know all, who are the devoted servants of the Summoner of Byakko, the maiden Elisabeth Carnahan, tell me, what message does she send to me? I am her friend, Camille Selvitar, Summoner of Genbu and Suzako."
For a while, all was silent, and then the wind came whispering by, gentle and soothing, and carrying with it a message, a message that few would understand…
Aragorn and Legolas looked up the moment the wind came by. "This is a strange breeze," muttered the Elf. "It seems to be carrying words, though I cannot understand them much…"
"That's because they're only meant for me," Camille said with a grin as she walked back to them. "Like I said, Eli will leave signs, but not the kind of signs you're used to. Remember, she's got the wind and water at her beck and call. She'll be using those to send the messages to me." She looked at Aragorn. "The Orcs are going north. That's where we should go right now."
Aragorn nodded, and stood up. "Very well then. Let us search northwards!"
Soon they were on the run again, and didn't stop for quite a while. Along the way they encountered five dead Orcs lying on the side of the path. This assured them that they were on the right path, but it disheartened them, for it meant that there was strife going on amongst the Orcs, and who knew what might happen to Pippin and Merry if they got caught in the middle of it. But after searching and reassuring themselves that there were no Hobbit bodies nearby, they resumed the chase.
It was only then that Camille noticed she could run farther than she ever could before. She wasn't sure how much distance they had covered already, but she was certain it was pretty long. Maybe the Spirits are giving me extra strength, so I won't have to be a burden to the others. She smiled at the thought, and was grateful for that.
They ran ever onwards, not stopping for long, as Aragorn wanted to catch up to the Orcs as soon as he could, for they had delayed in Parth Galen for a long while, and the longer they rested, the larger the gap between them and the Orcs grew.
They paused upon a high ridge, and looked back. They saw across the River the far hills kindled. Day leaped into the sky. The red rim of the sun rose over the shoulders of the dark land. Before them in the West the world lay still, formless and gray; but even as they looked, the shadows of night melted, the colors of the waking earth returned: green flowed over the wide meads of Rohan; the white mists shimmered in the water-vales; and far off to the left, thirty leagues or more, blue and purple stood the White Mountains, rising into peaks of jet, tipped with glimmering snows, flushed with the rose of morning.
"Gondor, Gondor!" cried Aragorn. "Would that I looked on you again in happier hour! Not yet does my road lie southward to your bright streams!" And here he chanted in a deep but melodious voice, a song that echoed the grandeur of the White City in days passed, days that many feared would never come again.
Camille listened to his song, and felt a deep sadness take hold in her heart. She had heard many stories about Gondor and its gradual fall into the ruinous state it was now. She had heard much of its former glory from tales Elrond had told them while they were still in Rivendell, and she felt she understood why Aragorn felt the way he did.
But they had to continue on with the chase. Ever west and north they went, following the trail as best as they could, and whenever they were in doubt as to the direction, Camille would consult the wind or the water, sometimes even both if they were available, and they would be on their way once more. Soon, they were running over the green grass-covered plains of Rohan, the scent of spring heavy in the air and filling them with new strength. The trail of the Orcs was easy to find; where they had tramped over the fields the grass was beaten back and blackened, cutting a long slot through the plains. This they followed without much difficulty.
Suddenly Aragorn called another halt. Camille stood with Legolas and Gimli as the Ranger investigated the ground that lay before them, moving abruptly to the right away from the path. At the furthest point of the side-path he bent down, as if looking at something that lay on the ground. After a moment, he straightened up, and ran towards them.
"Yes," he said, "they are quite plain: a Hobbit's footprints. Pippin's, I think. He is smaller than the other. And look at this!" He held up a thing that glittered in the sunlight. It looked like the new-opened leaf of a beech tree, fair and strange in that treeless plain.
Camille gasped, and reached out to touch it. "Either I'm starting to go blind or I'm seeing things, but this is Pippin's brooch, the same one the Elves of Lorien gave him to keep his cloak together!" Her smile became wider. "That means they're still alive!"
"And he had the use of his wits, and of his legs too. That is heartening. We do not pursue in vain," said Gimli.
"Let us hope that he did not pay too dearly for his boldness," said Legolas. "Come! Let us go on! The thought of those merry young folk driven like cattle burns my heart."
* * *
Legolas continued running, even as the moon rose high above him. The discovery of the Elven-brooch and the messages from both wind and water were more than enough encouragement for him, and he was willing to press on as far as was necessary. Though it had been three days and there was still no sign of the Orcs or the Hobbits, he tried to keep his spirits up. They are near now; it is only a matter of time before we overtake them.
But then, Aragorn called a halt. Legolas turned to the Man, wondering what had caused him to call for such. It was only then that he remembered that Aragorn was of the race of Men. Naturally his endurance would not be same as the stamina of Elves and Dwarves.
"Let us rest here a while," Aragorn said. "We are at least certain of their path now, and if ever we falter, Camille can always ask the aid of the wind and the water."
Gimli did not like the halt. "Why must we halt when the path is so clear to us?"
Aragorn turned his gray eyes to Gimli. "Let me remind you, Master Dwarf, that we have a lady in our company, and I fear she has pushed her endurance to the limits. Or have you not noticed?"
Gimli snorted. "You underestimate Camille's strength, Aragorn. She has not complained at all since we began this race! And she has not asked for a halt yet. I will take her silence as a sign that we must go on."
Slightly amused by this exchange, Legolas turned to Camille, and was alarmed by what his eyes beheld. She was leaning slightly forward, as if one gust of wind could fell her easily. Her legs were trembling, and her chest was heaving as she tried to recuperate. She had not complained, true, but it did not take a healer to know that she was exhausted.
Immediately he flew to her side, steadying her when she nearly toppled over, the weariness taking over completely. When he checked, he realized, somewhat to his amusement, that Camille had fallen asleep. He looked up at Gimli with a wry grin. "I believe that Aragorn is right, friend Gimli. If we had gone any further, she might have caused herself more harm. And as for saying that she would ask for a halt to rest, I believe she would not say that. She would rather go on than be thought of as a burden to our Company."
"Then we shall pause here for rest," Aragorn said, and then he cast himself on the ground and fell immediately to sleep. Gimli lay down as well, and was soon lost in the land of dreams. Legolas sighed, and sat down, Camille cradled in his embrace. He did not sleep, for he did not need as much rest as his companions did, and so he appointed himself as the watch for the night. The only things that gave him comfort were the dim glimmering of the stars overhead, and the soft heartbeat and hushed breathing of his beloved, who slept now in his arms, drowning her weariness in the land of dreams.
In the dark hours before dawn, she stirred, opening her eyes to look upon him, her brown eyes glimmering gently by the light of the stars. A small smile curved on her lips, and she whispered, "I fell asleep, didn't I?"
Legolas, realizing that she was awake, smiled down at her, and nodded. "You did, my love. But I can understand your weariness. You have not gotten the chance to rest much after our long hunt from Parth Galen. But now Aragorn has given us the chance to recuperate, and you must make the best of it."
"Aren't you going to sleep?"
He chuckled at her innocent question, and shook his head. "Nay, my love. Elves do not need sleep as much as mortals do. You should know that, should you not?"
She laughed quietly, the sound muffled as she snuggled closer to him. "Oh yeah, right. I must've forgotten. Jeez, that means I must be REALLY tired; my brains are starting to waste away." Then, in a softer voice, she said, "Am I really 'your love', Legolas?"
"Of course you are!" Legolas replied, his voice tinged with incredulity. "Must I prove this to you?" Without waiting for her answer, he leaned down, and kissed her. But for some reason, this was no longer the same chaste kiss they had shared on Cerin Amroth. Her closeness to him at that moment overwhelmed his senses and inflamed his desire, the desire he had held in check from the day he had bound himself to her. Slowly, he deepened the kiss, gently tasting and teasing her lips with his tongue, coaxing them to part.
Suddenly, a loud snort made the two lovers abruptly break the kiss and look to the camp. Legolas breathed a sigh of relief as he watched Gimli turn over in his sleep, muttering something about Galadriel's hair and a golden housing. He glanced back at Camille, and realized that she was laughing without sound, her shoulders shaking as she tried to stave off her laughter. He allowed himself to chuckle with her. It WAS a rather funny situation, after all.
Camille got up then from his embrace, and sat up, her shoulder against his. The dark sky was slowly lightening up, and they both knew that dawn would come soon. Twining her arm around Legolas', she said, "Legolas, could you do me a small favor?"
He smiled as he turned to her. "Anything, my love."
"Could you sing for me? Something about the stars, or the dawn…something that will bring my mind far, far away from this place and situation."
Legolas smiled, and kissed her cheek, savoring the softness of it beneath his lips. "Of course, my love." And the silence before the dawning of day was filled with his song, melting away their troubles and worries for the time being.
* * *
Aragorn watched as Camille stood a little apart from their group, listening. She was consulting the wind again, asking it for tidings that would make their hunt much easier. After a moment, she sighed, and turned to him. "The tracks are going the right way," she said. "The Orcs are heading into Fangorn."
Aragorn nodded, gesturing to the nearby river. "Then we shall follow the Entwash as it flows through that forest. Perhaps once we enter Fangorn, there will be more hope of finding them." Though I sorely doubt that. He was beginning to lose hope on their hunt, for if he reckoned correctly, the Orcs should be more than two days' journeying ahead of them. They could never hope to catch up now. Still, he did not want to bring such news to his companions. "Come then, let us resume our chase."
But Camille stood stock-still, as if she was still listening. Aragorn looked at her long and hard, but she no longer seemed to be listening to the wind. Instead, the grass waved around her feet, bending their blades towards her as if in homage. She knelt down, and ran her hand slowly through their stalks, eyes closed, brow knit in concentration. After a long moment, she stood up, eyes wide and wary as she looked towards Fangorn. "They're coming."
Gimli was irritated now. After all, he did not have Aragorn's training as a Ranger, nor Legolas' keen hearing and sight, nor Camille's talent to read the whispering wind and trilling water for signs. "What is it?"
"Horsemen," Camille answered. "Many of them. Horsemen are headed this way."
Legolas stepped forward, and looked towards the direction that Camille was staring, shading his bright Elven-eyes with a long slender hand. After a moment, he spoke. "She is right. There are riders coming this way. There are one hundred and five. Yellow is their hair, and bright are their spears. Their leader is very tall." He lowered his hand. "They are only five leagues distant."
"Five leagues or one," said Gimli, "we cannot escape them in this bare land. Shall we wait for them here or go on our way?"
"We will wait," said Aragorn. Finally deciding to confide the truth, he continued, "I am weary, and our hunt has failed. Or at least others were before us; for these horsemen are riding back down the Orc-trail. We may get news from them."
"Or spears," muttered Gimli morosely.
Camille glared at him. "Oh enough with the gloomy attitude, Gimli. You're probably not going to believe me when I tell you this, but the grass has brought me news. These guys are good people; they won't hurt us if we don't do anything suspicious." She looked around, and added, "Standing here on the top of this hill won't do us any good. Let's move a little ways down, and then wait for them to come by. Hopefully they won't shish-kabob us when they come round." So saying, she drew the hood of her cloak up over her face, and started down the northward side of the hill. Aragorn followed her willingly, seeing the wisdom in her words and actions.
They sat down on the hill again just above the foot of it, and began their long wait. The time seemed to pass too slowly for Aragorn's liking, but pass it did, for eventually, as the horsemen drew nearer, even Gimli could hear the distant beat of galloping hooves. The horsemen, following the trail, had turned from the river, and were drawing near the downs. They were riding like the wind.
Now the cries of clear strong voices came ringing over the fields. Suddenly they swept up with a noise like thunder, and the foremost horseman swerved, passing by the foot of the hill, and leading the host back southward along the western skirt of the downs. After him they rode: a long line of mail-clad men, swift, shining, fell and fair to look upon. In pairs they galloped by, and though every now and then one rose in his stirrups and gazed ahead and to either side, they appeared not to perceive the four strangers sitting silently and watching them.
The host had almost passed when Aragorn stood up, and called in a loud voice: "What news from the North, Riders of Rohan?"
* * *
Camille blinked as the riders suddenly checked their steeds with impressive skill, and turned them around, charging back towards them. She barely blinked, and soon, their group was surrounded, the horses running in a circle around them. Without a word or a cry, the Riders halted. A thicket of spears was pointed at them; and some of the horsemen had bows in their hands, and their arrows were already fitted to the string. Then one rode forward, a tall man, taller than all the rest; from his helm as a crest a white horsetail flowed. He advanced until the point of his spear was within a foot of Aragorn's breast. Aragorn did not stir.
"Who are you, and what are you doing in this land?" asked the Rider, and Camille noticed that the way he pronounced his words in the Common Speech was more or less the same as Boromir's method of speaking. She felt her throat constrict when she remembered Boromir, but she shook her head imperceptibly. Enough thinking of him, Camille! There's nothing you can do about him now!
Aragorn answered on their behalf. "I am called Strider," he answered. "I came out of the North. I am hunting Orcs."
The Rider leaped from his horse. If there was one thing that Camille admired about these guys, it was their way with horses. She smirked from beneath her hood. They're almost as good as Eli and me when it comes to horses. Maybe even better. She cast her gaze over their mounts, and smiled, her expression hidden deep within her hood. Nice. What breed is that…palomino? Arabian? Mustang maybe? Though she realized that they probably hadn't heard of such breeds in this world, they looked a lot like the ones that existed in her world.
Suddenly she felt eyes on her, and when she turned her head she saw the Rider boring down at her with his gaze, his dark brown eyes flaring with suspicion. "Why do you not speak, silent ones?"
Gimli rose, and planted his feet firmly apart: his hand gripped the handle of his axe, and his dark eyes flashed. "Give me your name, horse-master, and I will give you mine, and more besides," he said.
"As for that," said the Rider, staring down at the Dwarf, "the stranger should declare himself first. Yet I am Eomer son of Eomund, and am called the Third Marshal of Riddermark."
"Then Eomer son of Eomund, Third Marshal of Riddermark, let Gimli the Dwarf Gloin's son warn you against foolish words. You speak evil of that which is fair beyond the reach of your thought, and only little wit can excuse you."
Eomer's eyes blazed, and the Men of Rohan murmured angrily, and closed in, advancing their spears. "I would cut off your head, beard and all, Master Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground," said Eomer.
Camille knew where this was going. Coming up between Eomer and Gimli, ignoring the fact that her hood came down and revealed who she was for all the world to see, she said, "Please, can we all be a little more CIVIL here?! Jeez, why is it that you MEN have to argue and bicker all the time?! Does it take a WOMAN to keep a level head around here?!"
The silence was almost palpable. She looked at Gimli, and saw the fire of wrath still gleaming in his eye, then at Eomer, who looked back at her, stunned. "A woman?!" he asked, incredulous. "You have a WOMAN in your company?! Yours is an odd group, Strider, that you would take a woman with you on an Orc-hunt."
Legolas scowled, and said, "It would be wise to treat her with respect, Eomer. This is no ordinary woman that you see before you. As with us, the favor of the Lady of the Golden Wood goes with her, and she is held in high esteem among the Elven folk. She shall be treated as if she were a Lady of a high court."
Eomer kept his hard, steely gaze focused on Camille, and she returned it steadily. Suddenly, he smirked. "Fair she is indeed, perhaps fairer than the maidens in the Court of the Steward of Gondor. But tell me, My Lady, what is your name, and where do you hail from? Why do you come with these strangers? Surely you did not go on this hunt of your own free will?"
The scorn in his voice flared Camille's temper to new heights. She frowned, and answered, "If you'd like to know my name, it's Camille Selvitar, and where I'm from is a question better left unanswered. And I came on this hunt on my own free will. I came because they are my friends, and because of other things." Here, she narrowed her eyes at him. "And if you're going to look at me like I'm some cheap little rag doll, some…TOY…that these boys carry around for fun, then you're wrong. Dead wrong. If anything, I'M the one who led them on this wild goose chase, if I may call it that." She dropped her voice. "Don't you dare cross me, Eomer. The Summoner who controls the earth and the flames is NOT one to be trifled with."
Suddenly, the earth shook beneath them, rumbling with a deep frightful sound that spooked the horses and made the other Riders look nervously around them. Eomer suddenly backed off, and Camille grinned wickedly. "Do we have an understanding here, Eomer?"
The Rider nodded, and lowered his sword. "Indeed, My Lady." He shook his head, and added, "I do not doubt the identity of this Lady, but as for her other companions, they must tell me their right names."
"First tell me whom you serve," said Aragorn. "Are you friend or foe of Sauron, the Dark Lord of Mordor?"
"I serve only the Lord of the Mark, Theoden King son of Thengel," answered Eomer. "We do not serve the Power of the Black Land far away, but neither are we yet at open war with him; and if you are fleeing from him, then you had best leave this land. There is trouble now on all our borders, and we are threatened; but we desire to only be free, and live as we have lived, keeping our own, and serving no foreign lord, good or evil. We welcomed guests kindly in the better days, but in these times the unbidden stranger finds us swift and hard. Come! Who are you? Whom do YOU serve? At whose command do you hunt Orcs in our land?"
"I serve no man," said Aragorn, "but the servants of Sauron I pursue into whatever land they go. There are few among mortal Men who know more of Orcs; and I do not hunt them in this fashion out of choice. The Orcs whom we hunt took captive two of our friends. In such need a man that has no horse will go on foot, and he will not ask for leave to follow the trail. Nor will he count the heads of the enemy save with a sword. I am not weaponless."
Aragorn threw back his cloak. The Elven-sheath glittered as he grasped it, and
the bright blade of Anduril shone like a sudden flame as he swept it out. "I am
Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and am called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dunadan, the
heir of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor. Here is the Sword that was Broken and
is forged again! Will you aid me or thwart me? Choose swiftly!"
Camille grinned as she looked at Aragorn. You go Aragorn! About time you showed this guy something!
Eomer stepped back and a look of awe was on his face. He cast down his proud
eyes. "These are indeed strange days," he muttered. "Dreams and legends spring
to life from out of the grass."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Camille cut in, finally annoyed that this was taking so long. "Now that you know who we are, can I ask you a question? We've been chasing Orcs, like we said, and the way we see it, you're coming down from the opposite end of the trail we're following. By any chance, did you see two little guys? They're not Dwarves, being not as tall as Gimli here, and they've got curly hair and hairy feet."
Eomer quirked his eyebrow upwards in question. "I do not understand what you mean, My Lady."
"She has spoken of Halflings," Gimli explained.
"Halflings!" laughed the Rider that stood beside Eomer. "Halflings! But they are only a little people in old songs and children's tales out of the North. Do we walk in legends or on the green earth in the daylight?"
Camille scowled at him. "Shut your trap; no one asked for your opinion. Just stop beating around the bush and tell us if you found them!" The earth quaked beneath them again, and the Rider seemed to be sorry he had said anything at all.
Eomer spoke for a while in his own tongue, and the Rider backed off at last, taking the rest of the Riders with him. Camille smiled. Hmph, served him right. Any more of him and I could've lobbed a fireball in is general direction.
With the Riders gone, Aragorn went to Eomer, and the two of them began to discuss some things in private. In the meantime, Gimli turned to Camille, and gave her one of his rare smiles. "You have saved us much trouble, Camille. It seems that the very earth responds to your every mood! If it had done so during the Council, Rivendell would have certainly collapsed!"
Camille giggled, and shrugged. "I couldn't do that until now. I have to admit though; it's pretty helpful in dealing with other people. Particularly stubborn ones."
At that moment, Aragorn and Eomer came back to them then, and it seemed that Aragorn had finally agreed on something with the Rider. He smiled at them. "We have horses."
Camille let out a sigh of relief. Finally! We won't have to walk anymore! She watched as Eomer whispered a few words to another Rider, and waited. Soon, three horses were brought to them. One was dark gray, the other was a fiery auburn, and the last was black with a white star on the forehead. The black one caught her attention the most. It didn't seem to like the handling of the Riders, and constantly stamped the ground with its hooves.
She was drawn to the magnificent creature. She had never seen an animal as beautiful as it. She stepped forward slowly, reverently.
"Take care, My Lady!" Eomer warned. "This mare is spirited, and none can mount her. She is more restive than Arod." Here he indicated the auburn horse.
Camille laughed, and looked at Eomer. "You may be a Rider, but you can be pretty insensitive when it comes to animals. Ever wondered why no one could mount her? Plain and simple. She'd rather have a female rider than a male one. Trust me when I say that. I've lived with these animals for five years of my life, and I handle a lot of different breeds. You just need to know the right trick to pull off, especially when coming near one of the hot-blooded Arabians." She shrugged, and slowly approached the horse. "Easy, easy girl. I'm not going to hurt you."
The horse's ears suddenly pricked up, and she calmed down. Soon, all the Riders marveled as the mare trotted up to her, and nuzzled her cheek. Camille laughed, sliding her foot in the stirrup, and mounting the mare effortlessly. She sat up in the saddle, and wheeled the mare around expertly, amid gasps of surprise and awe from the Riders.
Eomer smiled, and bowed to her. "You have earned our respect, dear Lady. None have ever achieved mounting Blackwing before, and you shall be the first."
"Let's just call it a woman's touch," Camille replied with a teasing grin. She watched as Aragorn mounted Hasufel, the gray-colored horse, while Legolas got on Arod's back – but not before taking off the saddle and the bridle that were placed on the reddish-brown steed. She smiled. He always rode horses barebacked. It's amazing, how animals respond to Elves…makes me kind of jealous. With Legolas rode Gimli, though the Dwarf seemed pretty uncomfortable sitting on the back of a horse.
"Farewell, and may you find what you seek!" cried Eomer. "Return with what speed you may, and let our swords hereafter shine together!"
"I will come," said Aragorn.
"And I will come too," said Gimli. "The matter of the Lady Galadriel lies still between us. I have yet to teach you gentle speech."
"We shall see," said the Rider seriously. Turning then to Camille, Eomer smiled. "Farewell, Tamer of Blackwing! May she bear you swiftly to good fortune! A Lady as fair as yourself must certainly have a fair mount."
Camille grinned, and answered, "Goodbye for now, Eomer! May the flames never harm what you hold dear and may the earth be kind to you and your kin! I can give no better blessing." With that, she kicked her heels slightly into Blackwing's flanks, and they were off.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Wa-hey, done at last with this chapter! And…yes, I think that the scene with Camille and Legolas was a little out-of-place, but I haven't written a sweet scene between them for oh-so-long, and I think they deserve it. For those of you who are wondering when Eli will get the chance for a scene, JUST BE PATIENT! She WILL get a special chapter (or two, depending on whether I swing that way or not when I come to it ^_~) entirely to herself and the twins, but that will come much, much later. After all, her being forced to choose between Elladan and Elrohir will be enough cause for trouble later on grins. Speaking of Eli, looks like we're going to have to look in on what she's been up to! See you next chapter!