Paths of Peril -- A Dynasty Broken Book II
By Adara
Don't you hate when an author leaves you hanging? Like I did with poor Eledwhen? Sorry, but I do love cliff-hangers. Boromir receives a letter from Galadriel and the Fellowship finally hits the road. I have used Elrond's parting words almost verbatim. Boromir and Aragorn continue to spar.
Song Sung Blue
Thrust, parry, feint. Thrust, parry, feint. Damn, I am totally off balance and I have lost my place. Is this where I thrust, or parry or feint, or just run as though Sauron himself is chasing me? The Dunadan must wonder how I ever earned a reputation as a formidable warrior.
Boromir and Aragorn were sparring. It was early in the morning, only three days before the Fellowship was set to depart from Imladris. The Man of Gondor had asked the Ranger of the North to help him regain his stamina. Boromir was afraid that after two months of inactivity he would be unable to defend himself, much less the poor hobbits. Now he was engaged in practice combat with one of the premier swordsmen in Middle-earth and he felt like a rank beginner. It was embarrassing to say the least.
The two men were practicing a simple straight offense, something even a child should have been able to handle. But Boromir was having trouble with his recently healed left leg, which refused to respond quickly to his demands. He had started well in the defensive stance. He did alright with his footwork when he had moved to make the full chop cut, but when he'd slid his right foot forward and to the left to drop his sword down upon his opponent's arm, he'd lost his balance and nearly fallen into Aragorn's blade. At that point the Dunadan had called for practice swords and Boromir had been mortified.
"Come now, Boromir. No one expects you to be in top form. It takes time and much work to recover from a broken leg." Boromir scowled belligerently at the Ranger. Aragorn was always so annoyingly understanding. He wanted the Ranger to show some sign that he was, well, HUMAN! Why doesn't the man at least swear once in awhile? His constant politeness is more annoying than any politician in Gondor. Maybe he will make a good King. He certainly has the patience for it.
The two men rested a minute before starting the drill again. Boromir was determined to stay focused and show that he was just as capable a swordsman as Isildur's heir. As the two thrust their practice swords and feinted, seeking to gauge the other's strengths and weaknesses, a shout came from the balcony off Elrond's study. Aragorn immediately halted his attack and looked to see who was motioning to them. Boromir was concentrating so fiercely he did not notice the other drop his sword to his side and look up. He came in swiftly for the killing stroke, moving forward under what should have been his opponent's guard, and thrust his sword toward Aragorn's heart. Boromir's momentum caused him to crash against the other man, and they both went down in a tangle of legs and arms.
"What the blazes are you doing standing like one of these elvish statues? If we weren't using these fake things, you'd be dead right now. I thought by now you would know to NEVER lower your guard against an armed opponent!" Boromir was embarrassed that he had not noticed the Ranger stop the practice.
"My apologizes, Boromir, but I believe the Lord Elrond requires our presence." Boromir followed Aragorn's gaze to the balcony, where the Lord of Imladris waited expectantly.
"Just when I was finally getting the hang of this again," the man from Gondor grumbled. Aragorn laughed good-naturedly and placed his practice sword upon a stone bench beside the court.
"I am fortunate we were no longer using our own swords or that last thrust would have skewered me. I was rather lax in my guard, but I thought you would cease your attack when you saw I was no longer fighting." Aragorn looked at Denethor's son speculatively. Valar, I hope he was truly not paying attention. I would hate to believe that the killing stroke was wishful thinking on his part.
* * * * * * * * *
Boromir and Aragorn were standing uncomfortably in Elrond's study. To the Ranger's experienced eye, the Lord of Imladris looked upset. "What has happened?" he asked.
The Peredhil smiled slightly; only his three children and his foster son could read him so readily. "I have news from Lothlorien. I am afraid it is not good." Elrond's gaze strayed to Boromir and remained there. Aragorn noted that Denethor's heir had become pale.
"What news, my Lord?" Boromir felt light-headed. There was no doubt in his mind that the news concerned Eledwhen. The Elven lord handed him a letter, and Boromir took it with trembling fingers. Aragorn looked at his foster father questioningly, but Elrond did not respond.
As Boromir read the letter, his pallor grayed. He backed instinctively into a nearby chair, sat down heavily and continued to read. Finally he looked up at Elrond. "Have you read this?" the man demanded.
"No, but the accompanying letter from the Lady Galadriel explained the need for your return. I shall release you from your promise to be part of the Fellowship if you wish it. One man on horseback can travel much more swiftly than nine on foot."
Boromir stood up unsteadily. "I need time to think. Please excuse me." Elrond and Aragorn watched the man walk heavily from the room.
"I would like to know what the Lady of the Golden Wood has to say. I would not ask, but it obviously concerns the Fellowship. If we lose Boromir's strength and skills, I fear our journey will be much more perilous." Elrond stood silent some minutes before addressing his foster son's request.
"Find Gandalf and bring him to my study. You both need to know what has happened."
* * * * * * * * *
Boromir sat in the chair on his balcony, staring sightlessly at the beauty surrounding him. His mind was still trying to come to terms with the letter's contents. The Lady Galadriel says Eledwhen may lose our child. How can this be? She seemed so healthy when I left. Boromir read the letter a third time.
"I believe your presence will greatly help my granddaughter's state of mind. Though she has been ordered to bed rest, she continues to fret constantly and I worry for her health and the life of the unborn child. My Lord Celeborn is accounted one of the greatest healers in Middle-earth, yet he is unsure that his skills will save my future great-grandson. Therefore, I ask that you return to us as quickly as you are able. Eledwhen needs you desperately."
Each time Boromir read the last paragraph, he prayed it would say something different. Anything but that he may lose his son. I thought that leaving her behind would ensure her health. Now it seems my sacrifice was for naught.
Aragorn came upon the Man of Gondor quietly, uncertain that he wanted to intrude upon the other's privacy. Boromir was plainly upset. Softly clearing his throat, the future King of Gondor moved to stand beside the Steward's heir.
Boromir was hunched forward in the chair, face resting in the palms of his large hands. Aragorn waited patiently for some sign that he should speak. Boromir finally lifted his head and gazed with red-rimmed eyes at the man before him. "Elrond has told you," he said flatly.
"He reported what the Lady Galadriel wrote in her letter to him. I am deeply sorry that your lady is so ill."
Boromir narrowed his eyes and snapped, "My wife is ill. She is my wife." Aragorn blinked rapidly in surprise at the man's angry tone, but kept his features frozen into a mask of concern. Boromir stood up suddenly and walked back into the adjacent room. He was packing furiously when Aragorn finally joined him.
"So you have decided to leave immediately." Boromir stood upright so swiftly he almost lost his balance, as his recently healed leg nearly buckled beneath him.
"And what concern is that to you? You are not yet my King, and so I do not have to ask 'by your leave' for anything that I do."
Aragorn took a step backward and raised his arms in front of him, palms up. "I am concerned that you may not be strong enough to travel alone. I would counsel that you join the Fellowship. Our road will lead to Lothlorien, and you may find there is safety in numbers."
Boromir drew himself up to his full height of nearly 6 feet. He bristled with indignation. "Are you suggesting that I am incapable of protecting myself? I am not some inexperienced rookie soldier. I am the Captain-General of Gondor's army! I warn you, it is not a title bestowed upon me in name only. I earned that position in combat."
The Ranger's eyes narrowed slightly. "You earned that honor, in part, by the nature of being the Steward's first-born."
Boromir reached for the scabbard on the bed. "Are you spoiling for a fight, Ranger?"
Before the other man could draw his sword, Aragorn quickly moved to block his action. The two stood frozen, each refusing to back down.
"Must Men always settle their differences with violence?" Arwen's presence caused the two men to immediately separate. Aragorn looked somewhat sheepish; Boromir looked angry. "Aragorn, my love, please be so kind as to leave the Lord Boromir in my care. I fear you are only making things worse for our guest."
Aragorn started to defend himself, thought better of it, and instead bowed slightly to the two standing before him. He left the room soundlessly. Arwen turned her lovely countenance upon the Lord of Gondor. The smile she bestowed upon him was disarming, and his anger melted like snow on a bright spring morning. "I believe it is time for our conversation about your lady love."
Boromir sighed and placed his weapon back upon the bed. He motioned toward the balcony and together they walked into the brilliant sunshine. The man said nothing, so Arwen spoke first. "Do not be angry with Aragorn. He has spent much of his life alone in the wilderness and sometimes forgets his manners. I am sorry to hear about your wife's ill health. Is there something I can do?"
The man shook his head despondently, then moved to stand by the railing. His gaze looked southward and to the east. "I must go to her. It is not right that she bear this alone."
Arwen's tone was soothing as she replied, "She is not alone, Man of Gondor. She is with her grandparents. If the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood cannot help her, there is none who can."
Boromir shook his head stubbornly. "Do you counsel me to hold to my pledge that I accompany the Fellowship, thereby delaying my arrival in Caras Galadhon and leaving my wife with only Elves to comfort her?"
The Lady of Imladris stiffened visibly, though she tried to hide it. "You forget to whom you speak. They are my grandparents as well. The Princess Eledwhen and I share the same blood. Her mother was my aunt and I knew her for more than two millennia. You wound me when you speak so disrespectfully about my kin." Arwen was pleased by the guilt that crossed the man's face.
"My lady, please forgive my unforgivable behavior. I am overwrought with grief. Never would I do anything purposefully to cause you pain or distress. I spend too much time in the company of soldiers and sometimes forget the rules of etiquette my mother tried to teach me. I beg you to accept my sincere apology for my words. They were thoughtless."
Arwen placed a hand delicately upon his upper arm. Her smile was kind. "I know what it is to love someone who is far away. I worry constantly that something will happen to him and that I shall never see him again."
Boromir looked at her closely. "You speak of Aragorn. Will you two wed some day?"
The Elf's face became sad and she turned from him. When she spoke, she sounded close to tears. "My father will not permit us to wed until Aragorn has proven himself and regained the throne of his forefathers. It is my greatest fear that he will not survive the ordeal to come." Slowly she turned back to Boromir and he could see she was crying. "I would feel much comforted if you would consent to travel with the Fellowship. Your presence may make a life or death difference."
The man laughed bitterly and banged his fist upon the railing. The violent outburst caused Arwen to move away from him. "You ask me to protect the one person in the world who can take away my life. Do you clearly understand what you ask of me?"
Arwen's reply was so soft that Boromir had to move closer to her to hear it. "Each Steward has sworn an oath to protect and preserve Gondor until such time as her King shall return. Will you be forsworn?"
"I am not the Steward of Gondor, and so have taken no such oath. You ask me to destroy my family in favor of a stranger." Arwen shook her head.
"Nay, my Lord. I ask that you keep the man I love safe. Aragorn is noble and above all else, fair and honest. He will not take what is yours and cast you aside. He is not like that. If you would but travel with him, by his side, you will see the truth in my words. Please." Arwen placed the palm of her right hand against one side of Boromir's face. Her luminous gray eyes were pleading.
"You are my wife's kin and so I cannot refuse such a heart-felt request. I will accompany the Fellowship and do my best to discover the qualities you believe make Aragorn deserving of my fealty. But I warn you, it will be no easy feat."
Arwen lowered her head and let her long hair fall forward to cover her face. She was smiling triumphantly. "All I ask is that you go forth with an open mind."
* * * * * * * * *
The nine members of the Fellowship assembled upon the lawn beneath Elrond's study. Gandalf studied each member closely, hoping to gauge his resolve. "I fear they are none too keen about this journey," the old wizard said quietly to the Lord of Imladris.
"Are you?" he countered.
Gandalf snorted disdainfully. "A wizard is always ready to undertake any task appointed. I am ready."
Elrond smiled affectionately at his old friend. His smiled turned into a frown as he watched Aragorn and his daughter say their farewells. For the sake of Middle-earth, Aragorn must complete this mission successfully. But for my own sake, I dread the outcome. I do not wish to lose my daughter.
Arwen kissed the man she one day would die for and placed her forehead against his. Their hands were clasped tightly together as though each was afraid to let go of the other. Finally Arwen lifted her head and attempted a smile. "Take care of the Gondorian. He has had nothing but bad luck since he became betrothed to my cousin."
Aragorn studied Boromir, who looked rather uncomfortable standing between the dwarf, Gimli, and the Elf, Legolas. "You should be cautioning me to watch for signs that he might murder me -- or take the Ring."
Arwen frowned. "If that is a jest, it is a poor one. Do not say such things. I feel he is drawn to the One, but that he is a good man and will do the right thing, in the end." Aragorn returned his gaze to the Man of Gondor.
"I wish I had your optimism," he said dourly. Aragorn's gaze shifted as the Lord Elrond approached the rest of the Fellowship. Gandalf was at his side. "It is time. If it is my fate, I will return to you. Until that day, pray to the Valar for me." The two lovers shared a lingering kiss before the man took his place beside Frodo.
"This is my last word," said Elrond in a low voice. "The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On him alone is any charge laid -- neither to cast away the Ring, nor to deliver it to any servant of the Enemy, nor indeed to let any handle it, save members of the Company and the Council, and only then in gravest need. Go now with good hearts, and may the stars shine upon your faces!"
With Elrond's words still ringing in their ears, the nine members of the Fellowship of the Ring left the Last Homely House.
To be continued