My lovely reviewers! It is always good to hear both the kind compliments
and the questions regarding the story. It gives me a very good idea as to
how much I write is coming across the way I want it to. I realized that the
last part regarding the setting in Fever was confusing for some. This, I'm
afraid is mainly due to the fact that the story is in chapters and that
explanations regarding such a situation can only be introduced in later
chapters. So here is some help about that:
Irulan survived this Fever. Or rather, she stood at the threshold of it, but did not take the last step that would begin an irreversible process - which, in my opinion, would be to give in to that hate and fight the vision of herself. Her mind bent, but it did not break - a few more Uruk-hais and she probably would have, actually. She stood at the edge and peered down, though. She now knows what madness is. There will be further detail about Fever in the upcoming chapters. And if she barely survived this one, we all know when she will be MOST CERTAINLY in trouble, don't we?
This chapter was written to "All Love Can Be" by Charlotte Church from the Original Soundtrack of A Beautiful Mind. Lovely piece, check it out some time.
The first thing that Irulan felt was the pain in her arm, accompanied with another pain in her head. She had no idea if she was standing, sitting or lying, for her eyes were closed and she could not locate her body with the other senses. She decided to wait. Slowly warmth enveloped her and the feeling of suspension settled. She felt something rough underneath her right hand and her right knee and decided to open her eyes. The world was dark first, but soon lightened up and became an afternoon. Her head was bent down and she was looking towards the ground. The rough material was dried grass, gently biting into her right palm. She seemed to be awkwardly kneeling on her right knee and supported by her right arm that was resting on the ground. Her left arm was to her side, holding the staff. She could see her hair flowing down, touching the ground. Very slowly she raised her right hand and guided it towards her chest. A small sigh of relief escaped her lips when she found the familiar feeling of the metal medallion there.
Irulan slowly raised her head and looked around. She saw oddly shaped bodies around her and a moment later, remembered them to be Uruk-hai. They were lying around her, sprawled and hacked to pieces. She then realized that she was still in command of her body and decided to move. Very slowly she began to stand upright and after than, balanced herself with her legs slightly apart, leaning on her staff. She turned around and realized that she was in a clearing which was covered with countless bodies. There was nobody else.
Bits and pieces of images floated back to her and her mind tried to put them in a chronological order. She remembered the boats approaching the shore, then Frodo missing and Boromir gone, then Aragorn and her running, then some ruins, Frodo leaving and finally the Uruk-hai. She turned around again but had no sense of direction. The world seemed to be deserted. She began to walk, looking around her, looking for anyone from the Fellowship. It was so deserted that for a moment she felt like they had left her behind and were long gone - like centuries had passed since their leaving.
"Irulan!" shouted Legolas and she turned sideways to see him running up to her. Gimli was running behind him. They both slowed down and stopped at a distance though, their eyes widening and sweeping across the dead Uruk- hais, darting from right to left and finally falling back to her in the middle of it, and Irulan saw an uneasiness in their faces that had not been there before. 'They think you might have gone insane,' whispered a voice in her mind and for some reason that sounded very funny. 'Have you?' it whispered again and for some other odd reason, that sounded even funnier. 'Little, silly, mad Irulan,' it whispered and faded. Yet Irulan did not laugh. The pain in her head felt horrible now. She slowly raised her hand to massage her face. When she took it back, it was covered in warm blood and Irulan realized that her nose was bleeding. She slowly retracted her staff, the dull throbbing making it difficult for her to think.
Irulan began to walk towards them slowly and heard her own hoarse voice calling: "Where is Aragorn? Boromir? Where are the others?" Once again she massaged her forehead. Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder and she stopped short of running into Legolas. He stood right in front of her, looking down at her and honestly, he looked like the insane one. His face was a perfect expression of concern and worry and at such a degree, that it looked odd on an elf. "Irulan," he whispered and he reached out with his left hand and placing his palm on her cheek, very slowly wiped away the blood on her upper lip with his thumb, his eyes boring into hers. Irulan tried to look back, but her headache made it difficult. Instead she brought her hand back up again and closing her eyes, repeated her question, this time softer "Legolas......where is everyone?"
A moment of silence followed during which Legolas debated with himself whether he should tell her or not tell her and make sure she was okay first. He saw her nose bleeding which scared him more than anything, but the fact that she was covered with blood was also disquieting, since it meant that she might yet have fatal wounds he could not see. "We heard the Horn of Gondor," he said finally, knowing it was the better solution for now, "Aragorn ran ahead towards the shore."
"The Horn of Gondor?" said Irulan baffled. And then she added "Boromir," with a whisper. She grabbed the elf's arm, "Legolas, in which direction is the shore?" Legolas pursed his lips and waited another moment before he pointed towards their left, "That way," he said softly, his eyes never leaving her face. She wiped the blood from her nose with the back of her arm and said "Let's go then," and began to run slowly. Legolas was keeping perfect pace with her and Gimli joined them a few steps later.
"Irulan you are bleeding," said Legolas very softly, unable to keep from saying it and yet unsure of her reaction at this moment.
"You don't say!" she replied with a tinge of sarcasm and ran faster.
***
She did not know what exactly to expect and she did not want to think about it too much either. That accursed image of a fractured vase, still standing, came back to her and Irulan felt something dark gripping her heart. The throbbing in her head was unbearable and she felt like the whole world is pulsing along with the blood in her skull. 'Little running Irulan,' whispered the voice again, 'Run Irulan, run! Run AWAY if you have sense.' She ruthlessly cut it off.
She felt her sense of time returning very slowly. The eerie feeling that she had fallen asleep and awoken centuries later slowly left her and the present came back to her with every step. Only a little time had passed since she had last seen Frodo, Aragorn and the rest of the company - not years. It had been merely minutes she had fought up there - not days. 'I am alright,' she said silently, trying to sound doubtless. 'I am fine. It is over now.'
They only had to follow the dead Uruk-hais lying around to reach Aragorn and shortly afterwards stumbled upon him. Irulan saw him ahead, kneeling by a tree and slowed down. He seemed to be bent over something, his back to them, surrounded by dead bodies. No....not something....somebody. She unconsciously swallowed and her mind went blank. She halted suddenly, the rest of the company stopping as well. The figure on the ground was whispering, but in the unbelievable silence she heard the words: "My brother..my captain....my king."
"Boromir," she whispered and could not move for a moment. Gimli remained further back, leaning on his axe, his head bent in sorrow. Legolas too, stood at a comfortable distance, his face a mask of sorrow and confusion, mixed with disbelief. "Boromir," she whispered again and moved ahead again, to join the two men. Three thick black arrows were sticking out of his chest. The blood in his face had drained and he looked so pale. His white skin was a deep contrast to the trace of blood trickling down his mouth. She knelt by him and looked up at Aragorn who looked back with tears in his eyes.
Boromir clasped her hand then and she looked down to meet his eyes. "Irulan," he stammered, his eyes already glazing. She grasped his hand softly and smiled down to him. "Yes, I'm here," she whispered back.
"I.." he began and she softly touched his chest, not wishing him to continue to torture himself, but he slightly shook his head and tried again. "I..am so..sorry," he said. Irulan felt herself slipping away, but stubbornly forced herself to remain here, in this moment. "Why?" she said softly, her hand moving up to his face, softly stroking his cheek.
He smiled back at her and then another wave of pain hit him, distorting his face and Irulan winced as if the arrow was in her own heart. She felt her nose bleeding warmly again and wiped it away again with the back of her arm, her eyes not leaving his. "Because," he coughed finally, looking at her again, "because...I did not...tell you...before." Irulan had no idea what he was talking about and did not care either. She swallowed hard but was not aware that it did not help to prevent the tears that were unconsciously sliding down her cheeks now.
When Gandalf fell in Moria, she had believed that there could never be a greater pain and loss for her. It had been so unexpected and so swift. Thousands of things had echoed in her head that she wished she had told him before. She had wished for one last moment of farewell at least and often dreamt about being granted that moment on the bridge of Khazad-dûm, which she used to embrace Gandalf one last time. But now, sitting here with Boromir's life slowly draining from him, she understood that although she had not known it back then, the Heavens had spared her a much greater pain in the death of Gandalf. For now she had a chance to say farewell, but it was so much more agonizing to watch a man die, unable to do a single thing, that she could not bring herself to say a single word.
"I always loved you Irulan," uttered Boromir in one swift outburst finally. "....should have....told...you," he added wheezing. Irulan stopped caressing him then. "I always knew Boromir," she said and bent down to place a kiss on his cheek. His skin felt so cold and inanimate. "I love you too," she whispered softly to his ear, desperate to grant him one last wish. She slowly drew back, realizing that she had left a trace of her own blood on his face and that Boromir never heard her last sentence after all. For the son of Gondor was gone. Irulan closed her eyes and sat back, sighing softly. Both her tears and her blood were flowing out from her, but she felt neither.
Aragorn slowly bent over and kissed Boromir's forehead. He sat back again, squeezed her shoulder and then softly grasping her arm, stood up, pulling her up with him. They looked at one another again, both blind to the other's terrible sight and momentary weakness. Aragorn looked down at Boromir and said "Farewell, son of Gondor," and Irulan repeated the same sentence silently in her mind. She then walked away, freeing her arm, not really looking where she was going. She leaned on the bark of a tree and slowly allowed her body to slide down until she sat on the soft earth, her hands covering her face, her mind trying to think desperately through the pain of the headache.
Irulan sat like that for a long time, as the world began to move around her again. She could hear the mourning of the three men and afterwards heard them carrying Boromir away, towards the sound of the river. But Irulan felt too weak to get up and help them. 'I'll just sit here until this whole thing makes sense again,' she thought and continued massaging her forehead. 'Maybe I'll lie down a little and sleep. And everything might be much better once I wake up,' she added. Another long time passed, and the pain seemed to subside ever so slowly. She felt other pains slowly speaking up. Her right arm was definitely complaining very loudly now and her left ankle was begging for attention as well. She felt the bitter feeling of a shallow cut on her right side and she knew that she would begin to feel the pain growing once the dulling effects of Shifting left her body completely. At least her nose had stopped bleeding.
"Irulan," said Legolas from nearby, so slowly that she barely heard it. Irulan looked up then, and he was crouching on one knee across her at a comfortable distance. Legolas was resisting the unbearable temptation of moving closer and touching her, which had become an irresistible pull ever since she had embraced him the day before. But he remained waiting because he did not want to invade her space if she felt like remaining alone. He was also afraid of startling her and the woman never seemed to hear him approach.
But when Irulan heard him and looked up, he decided -disturbing or not- he would move closer because he just could not take it any longer. Irulan was sitting with her back to a tree, her legs drawn up and her elbows resting on her knees. He slowly came over and crouched next to her, softly holding her arm. Legolas looked into her eyes, not knowing what it was he was looking for, but found comfort in what he saw (or in what he did not see). She looked tired and astonishingly calmer than he expected her to be. After having seen her reaction to Gandalf, he had been quite anxious as to what she might do, but thankfully she surprised him now by not running off at least.
He scooted closer until they sat next to each other, their bodies touching, the warmth emanating from each merging and flowing from one to the other. Legolas slowly embraced her shoulders with one arm while he placed his other hand on her cheek and lifted her face up. "I was so afraid," he whispered and softly kissed her forehead. A part of Irulan felt very uncomfortable and insisted that Irulan should push Legolas away and walk off. That feisty Irulan was more than disturbed by the idea that the damn elf felt comfortable enough with her to kiss her now. But another part of Irulan which had been dormant for a very long time had finally woken up. She gracefully took the Ruling Scepter in her hand and kicked the former one out of sight. Irulan gave in to her and felt herself leaning towards Legolas and the tension in her body flowing out of her like blood flowing from a wound. She closed her eyes and let him embrace her stronger, place another kiss on her hair and put his cheek on her head, sighing with relief.
'I should probably get up,' she thought. 'I should get up, push myself off and go to wherever the rest of them are.' But her weakness became a whirlpool that sucked her in, stronger and stronger as she drifted closer to it. She had not felt this tired in her entire life. As a matter of fact, she felt like she could sleep for a whole week. That would help to make everything more bearable. It would dull the pain of Boromir, it would make Frodo's leaving easier....how would the company look like without those two now? 'Why, Sam will be furious and heart-broken. And the...wait a minute...where is Sam?' she thought suddenly and lifted her head. Legolas slightly pulled back to look down at her.
"Legolas.." she said softly, "where are the hobbits?"
When she saw the sad look on his face, she almost did push him off. She hastily scrambled to her feet and another wave of pain, this time much more intense, hit her head.
"Careful Irulan," said Legolas, trying to understand what the matter was, "what is it? Does your head hurt?"
"Where are the hobbits?" she said again, her voice rising against her best wishes.
Legolas looked away for a moment and then back at her. "Sam and Frodo have left for the other shore," he said. Irulan was confused for a moment but then she relaxed. "So Sam has joined him anyway," she mumbled, smiling now. Those two would probably go to their very graves together! And a good thing too, for even though Frodo might be an extraordinary hobbit, she had serious doubts about him fulfilling this journey alone.
"And the others?" she asked a little merrier now.
"The Uruk-hai took them," said Legolas very slowly, carefully looking into her eyes.
His words hit her like a slap in the face. "The Uruk-hai?" she whispered, her eyes widening and her lungs unable to breathe suddenly. "They're..they're...dead?" she said and the last word came out so soft that even Legolas' elven ears had a hard time picking it up.
"No," he said, softly touching her arm, "no...they were not killed, only taken." Irulan looked down in relief. So there was still hope. A part of her just wanted to laugh out at that remark.
A silence passed between them. Legolas felt so torn, he had no clue as to what to do. He felt like grabbing Irulan and shaking her until she relented to him, promising that she would never ever Shift again - or even fight again. He wanted to tell her how his concern for her was driving him insane, breaking his concentration, threatening his mind and spirit. He wanted to make her understand that he had begun to feel more worried for her than this whole quest, more than Middle Earth itself. She had to understand how the thought of losing her was like a spell, taking hold of him every passing day, denying him food and sleep. She should know how in his dreams he was always strolling restless in a foreign, hostile wilderness, because he had lost his inner peace. He wanted to tell her so much how the world seemed diminished and insignificant when she looked at him. How he was ready to offer his soul the instant she touched him. How he would carelessly throw away all eternity to share one day with her, if he but only had the choice.
Legolas looked away and swallowed it all down. Irulan...the perfect beast roaming the forest, carefree and bold. Unaware of her own beauty and might; unaware of all admiring eyes. Free of the need of anything anyone could offer. Galloping by, not thinking how the sight of her had changed the heart of many; how the smell of her had driven countless insane; how the thought of her has ruined so many souls; how the wish to glimpse her one more time has become one common agony. Irulan: a blessing, a curse. The sum of all reasons, the question to all answers. Legolas sighed in despair. 'How can I endure this pain?' he thought in utter desperation. 'How can I live through this and not falter? Who will have mercy on my soul?'
Irulan, though, neither saw nor felt any of this. She was in her own little world, fighting her own inner battle. Finally she looked up to him and said "Let us join the others, then," slowly. She looked so tired, so exhausted. She turned away and walked towards the shore. Legolas followed her a moment later. Both did not talk again. They arrived there in time to see Aragorn putting on Boromir's leather armbands. Boromir was placed into one of the boats and looked more peaceful than he had looked for a long time now. He was holding his sword, in the fashion the kings of Gondor did before the funeral. They all participated in pushing the boat into the water. The current did the rest.
Irulan watched another part of her past drifting away from her. 'First Gandalf, now Boromir,' she thought bitterly. 'Everyone I know, everyone I value is taken from me. Everyone who remembers and values me is leaving me.' The thought startled her suddenly. 'Soon there will be no one left who knows my true heart. I am fading slowly from mind and heart. These men died for something greater. They died in valor and honor. I am dying this very moment, my being floating away with these so few who really know me. I will become a ghost..I will diminish and be forgotten...as if I never existed.' She felt another warm trickle of blood flowing down her nose again.
"Frodo and Sam have reached the eastern shore," said Legolas suddenly and began to push another boat into the water. Irulan and Aragorn looked at each other, then at the two hobbits, who had begun to disappear in the forest.
Legolas halted and looked from one to the other. "You mean not to follow them," he said, and it sounded more like an insight than a question.
"Frodo's destiny is not in our hands any longer," Aragorn said. Irulan slowly walked up to him with the rest of them.
"Then it has all been in vain," said Gimli. "The Fellowship has failed."
"Not if we hold true to each other," said Aragorn and lay a hand on both Legolas' and Gimli's shoulder. Both Irulan and the other two looked up at him in admiration. "We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death," he said, looking each in the eye. "Not while we have strength left."
"Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light. Let's hunt some orc," he said and a surge of hope flowed into Irulan. 'Maybe I will get my chance at honor after all,' she thought suddenly and wiped away the blood from her nose again. They swiftly ran into the forest and disappeared in the thick foliage.
Irulan would later look back at that moment and realize that the vase had indeed turned into a heap of shards, but that it had revealed another and yet untouched vase that had been waiting in that old vessel. Though no one in the world was even slightly aware of it and they themselves did not suspect it, a new Fellowship was formed that day on the shore of Parth Galen under the shadow of loss and desperation, between a man, a woman, a dwarf and an elf - each battling their inner wars and at the same time united to battle another war so save the nameless masses, and each bonded to one another in a unique and unbreakable fashion. Unknown to the rest of the world, a day had set but a new dawn was silently breaking at the shore of Anduin. And it would change the fate of Middle Earth.
In the midst of this world
We stroll along the roof of hell
Gawking at flowers
Issa
Irulan survived this Fever. Or rather, she stood at the threshold of it, but did not take the last step that would begin an irreversible process - which, in my opinion, would be to give in to that hate and fight the vision of herself. Her mind bent, but it did not break - a few more Uruk-hais and she probably would have, actually. She stood at the edge and peered down, though. She now knows what madness is. There will be further detail about Fever in the upcoming chapters. And if she barely survived this one, we all know when she will be MOST CERTAINLY in trouble, don't we?
This chapter was written to "All Love Can Be" by Charlotte Church from the Original Soundtrack of A Beautiful Mind. Lovely piece, check it out some time.
The first thing that Irulan felt was the pain in her arm, accompanied with another pain in her head. She had no idea if she was standing, sitting or lying, for her eyes were closed and she could not locate her body with the other senses. She decided to wait. Slowly warmth enveloped her and the feeling of suspension settled. She felt something rough underneath her right hand and her right knee and decided to open her eyes. The world was dark first, but soon lightened up and became an afternoon. Her head was bent down and she was looking towards the ground. The rough material was dried grass, gently biting into her right palm. She seemed to be awkwardly kneeling on her right knee and supported by her right arm that was resting on the ground. Her left arm was to her side, holding the staff. She could see her hair flowing down, touching the ground. Very slowly she raised her right hand and guided it towards her chest. A small sigh of relief escaped her lips when she found the familiar feeling of the metal medallion there.
Irulan slowly raised her head and looked around. She saw oddly shaped bodies around her and a moment later, remembered them to be Uruk-hai. They were lying around her, sprawled and hacked to pieces. She then realized that she was still in command of her body and decided to move. Very slowly she began to stand upright and after than, balanced herself with her legs slightly apart, leaning on her staff. She turned around and realized that she was in a clearing which was covered with countless bodies. There was nobody else.
Bits and pieces of images floated back to her and her mind tried to put them in a chronological order. She remembered the boats approaching the shore, then Frodo missing and Boromir gone, then Aragorn and her running, then some ruins, Frodo leaving and finally the Uruk-hai. She turned around again but had no sense of direction. The world seemed to be deserted. She began to walk, looking around her, looking for anyone from the Fellowship. It was so deserted that for a moment she felt like they had left her behind and were long gone - like centuries had passed since their leaving.
"Irulan!" shouted Legolas and she turned sideways to see him running up to her. Gimli was running behind him. They both slowed down and stopped at a distance though, their eyes widening and sweeping across the dead Uruk- hais, darting from right to left and finally falling back to her in the middle of it, and Irulan saw an uneasiness in their faces that had not been there before. 'They think you might have gone insane,' whispered a voice in her mind and for some reason that sounded very funny. 'Have you?' it whispered again and for some other odd reason, that sounded even funnier. 'Little, silly, mad Irulan,' it whispered and faded. Yet Irulan did not laugh. The pain in her head felt horrible now. She slowly raised her hand to massage her face. When she took it back, it was covered in warm blood and Irulan realized that her nose was bleeding. She slowly retracted her staff, the dull throbbing making it difficult for her to think.
Irulan began to walk towards them slowly and heard her own hoarse voice calling: "Where is Aragorn? Boromir? Where are the others?" Once again she massaged her forehead. Suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder and she stopped short of running into Legolas. He stood right in front of her, looking down at her and honestly, he looked like the insane one. His face was a perfect expression of concern and worry and at such a degree, that it looked odd on an elf. "Irulan," he whispered and he reached out with his left hand and placing his palm on her cheek, very slowly wiped away the blood on her upper lip with his thumb, his eyes boring into hers. Irulan tried to look back, but her headache made it difficult. Instead she brought her hand back up again and closing her eyes, repeated her question, this time softer "Legolas......where is everyone?"
A moment of silence followed during which Legolas debated with himself whether he should tell her or not tell her and make sure she was okay first. He saw her nose bleeding which scared him more than anything, but the fact that she was covered with blood was also disquieting, since it meant that she might yet have fatal wounds he could not see. "We heard the Horn of Gondor," he said finally, knowing it was the better solution for now, "Aragorn ran ahead towards the shore."
"The Horn of Gondor?" said Irulan baffled. And then she added "Boromir," with a whisper. She grabbed the elf's arm, "Legolas, in which direction is the shore?" Legolas pursed his lips and waited another moment before he pointed towards their left, "That way," he said softly, his eyes never leaving her face. She wiped the blood from her nose with the back of her arm and said "Let's go then," and began to run slowly. Legolas was keeping perfect pace with her and Gimli joined them a few steps later.
"Irulan you are bleeding," said Legolas very softly, unable to keep from saying it and yet unsure of her reaction at this moment.
"You don't say!" she replied with a tinge of sarcasm and ran faster.
***
She did not know what exactly to expect and she did not want to think about it too much either. That accursed image of a fractured vase, still standing, came back to her and Irulan felt something dark gripping her heart. The throbbing in her head was unbearable and she felt like the whole world is pulsing along with the blood in her skull. 'Little running Irulan,' whispered the voice again, 'Run Irulan, run! Run AWAY if you have sense.' She ruthlessly cut it off.
She felt her sense of time returning very slowly. The eerie feeling that she had fallen asleep and awoken centuries later slowly left her and the present came back to her with every step. Only a little time had passed since she had last seen Frodo, Aragorn and the rest of the company - not years. It had been merely minutes she had fought up there - not days. 'I am alright,' she said silently, trying to sound doubtless. 'I am fine. It is over now.'
They only had to follow the dead Uruk-hais lying around to reach Aragorn and shortly afterwards stumbled upon him. Irulan saw him ahead, kneeling by a tree and slowed down. He seemed to be bent over something, his back to them, surrounded by dead bodies. No....not something....somebody. She unconsciously swallowed and her mind went blank. She halted suddenly, the rest of the company stopping as well. The figure on the ground was whispering, but in the unbelievable silence she heard the words: "My brother..my captain....my king."
"Boromir," she whispered and could not move for a moment. Gimli remained further back, leaning on his axe, his head bent in sorrow. Legolas too, stood at a comfortable distance, his face a mask of sorrow and confusion, mixed with disbelief. "Boromir," she whispered again and moved ahead again, to join the two men. Three thick black arrows were sticking out of his chest. The blood in his face had drained and he looked so pale. His white skin was a deep contrast to the trace of blood trickling down his mouth. She knelt by him and looked up at Aragorn who looked back with tears in his eyes.
Boromir clasped her hand then and she looked down to meet his eyes. "Irulan," he stammered, his eyes already glazing. She grasped his hand softly and smiled down to him. "Yes, I'm here," she whispered back.
"I.." he began and she softly touched his chest, not wishing him to continue to torture himself, but he slightly shook his head and tried again. "I..am so..sorry," he said. Irulan felt herself slipping away, but stubbornly forced herself to remain here, in this moment. "Why?" she said softly, her hand moving up to his face, softly stroking his cheek.
He smiled back at her and then another wave of pain hit him, distorting his face and Irulan winced as if the arrow was in her own heart. She felt her nose bleeding warmly again and wiped it away again with the back of her arm, her eyes not leaving his. "Because," he coughed finally, looking at her again, "because...I did not...tell you...before." Irulan had no idea what he was talking about and did not care either. She swallowed hard but was not aware that it did not help to prevent the tears that were unconsciously sliding down her cheeks now.
When Gandalf fell in Moria, she had believed that there could never be a greater pain and loss for her. It had been so unexpected and so swift. Thousands of things had echoed in her head that she wished she had told him before. She had wished for one last moment of farewell at least and often dreamt about being granted that moment on the bridge of Khazad-dûm, which she used to embrace Gandalf one last time. But now, sitting here with Boromir's life slowly draining from him, she understood that although she had not known it back then, the Heavens had spared her a much greater pain in the death of Gandalf. For now she had a chance to say farewell, but it was so much more agonizing to watch a man die, unable to do a single thing, that she could not bring herself to say a single word.
"I always loved you Irulan," uttered Boromir in one swift outburst finally. "....should have....told...you," he added wheezing. Irulan stopped caressing him then. "I always knew Boromir," she said and bent down to place a kiss on his cheek. His skin felt so cold and inanimate. "I love you too," she whispered softly to his ear, desperate to grant him one last wish. She slowly drew back, realizing that she had left a trace of her own blood on his face and that Boromir never heard her last sentence after all. For the son of Gondor was gone. Irulan closed her eyes and sat back, sighing softly. Both her tears and her blood were flowing out from her, but she felt neither.
Aragorn slowly bent over and kissed Boromir's forehead. He sat back again, squeezed her shoulder and then softly grasping her arm, stood up, pulling her up with him. They looked at one another again, both blind to the other's terrible sight and momentary weakness. Aragorn looked down at Boromir and said "Farewell, son of Gondor," and Irulan repeated the same sentence silently in her mind. She then walked away, freeing her arm, not really looking where she was going. She leaned on the bark of a tree and slowly allowed her body to slide down until she sat on the soft earth, her hands covering her face, her mind trying to think desperately through the pain of the headache.
Irulan sat like that for a long time, as the world began to move around her again. She could hear the mourning of the three men and afterwards heard them carrying Boromir away, towards the sound of the river. But Irulan felt too weak to get up and help them. 'I'll just sit here until this whole thing makes sense again,' she thought and continued massaging her forehead. 'Maybe I'll lie down a little and sleep. And everything might be much better once I wake up,' she added. Another long time passed, and the pain seemed to subside ever so slowly. She felt other pains slowly speaking up. Her right arm was definitely complaining very loudly now and her left ankle was begging for attention as well. She felt the bitter feeling of a shallow cut on her right side and she knew that she would begin to feel the pain growing once the dulling effects of Shifting left her body completely. At least her nose had stopped bleeding.
"Irulan," said Legolas from nearby, so slowly that she barely heard it. Irulan looked up then, and he was crouching on one knee across her at a comfortable distance. Legolas was resisting the unbearable temptation of moving closer and touching her, which had become an irresistible pull ever since she had embraced him the day before. But he remained waiting because he did not want to invade her space if she felt like remaining alone. He was also afraid of startling her and the woman never seemed to hear him approach.
But when Irulan heard him and looked up, he decided -disturbing or not- he would move closer because he just could not take it any longer. Irulan was sitting with her back to a tree, her legs drawn up and her elbows resting on her knees. He slowly came over and crouched next to her, softly holding her arm. Legolas looked into her eyes, not knowing what it was he was looking for, but found comfort in what he saw (or in what he did not see). She looked tired and astonishingly calmer than he expected her to be. After having seen her reaction to Gandalf, he had been quite anxious as to what she might do, but thankfully she surprised him now by not running off at least.
He scooted closer until they sat next to each other, their bodies touching, the warmth emanating from each merging and flowing from one to the other. Legolas slowly embraced her shoulders with one arm while he placed his other hand on her cheek and lifted her face up. "I was so afraid," he whispered and softly kissed her forehead. A part of Irulan felt very uncomfortable and insisted that Irulan should push Legolas away and walk off. That feisty Irulan was more than disturbed by the idea that the damn elf felt comfortable enough with her to kiss her now. But another part of Irulan which had been dormant for a very long time had finally woken up. She gracefully took the Ruling Scepter in her hand and kicked the former one out of sight. Irulan gave in to her and felt herself leaning towards Legolas and the tension in her body flowing out of her like blood flowing from a wound. She closed her eyes and let him embrace her stronger, place another kiss on her hair and put his cheek on her head, sighing with relief.
'I should probably get up,' she thought. 'I should get up, push myself off and go to wherever the rest of them are.' But her weakness became a whirlpool that sucked her in, stronger and stronger as she drifted closer to it. She had not felt this tired in her entire life. As a matter of fact, she felt like she could sleep for a whole week. That would help to make everything more bearable. It would dull the pain of Boromir, it would make Frodo's leaving easier....how would the company look like without those two now? 'Why, Sam will be furious and heart-broken. And the...wait a minute...where is Sam?' she thought suddenly and lifted her head. Legolas slightly pulled back to look down at her.
"Legolas.." she said softly, "where are the hobbits?"
When she saw the sad look on his face, she almost did push him off. She hastily scrambled to her feet and another wave of pain, this time much more intense, hit her head.
"Careful Irulan," said Legolas, trying to understand what the matter was, "what is it? Does your head hurt?"
"Where are the hobbits?" she said again, her voice rising against her best wishes.
Legolas looked away for a moment and then back at her. "Sam and Frodo have left for the other shore," he said. Irulan was confused for a moment but then she relaxed. "So Sam has joined him anyway," she mumbled, smiling now. Those two would probably go to their very graves together! And a good thing too, for even though Frodo might be an extraordinary hobbit, she had serious doubts about him fulfilling this journey alone.
"And the others?" she asked a little merrier now.
"The Uruk-hai took them," said Legolas very slowly, carefully looking into her eyes.
His words hit her like a slap in the face. "The Uruk-hai?" she whispered, her eyes widening and her lungs unable to breathe suddenly. "They're..they're...dead?" she said and the last word came out so soft that even Legolas' elven ears had a hard time picking it up.
"No," he said, softly touching her arm, "no...they were not killed, only taken." Irulan looked down in relief. So there was still hope. A part of her just wanted to laugh out at that remark.
A silence passed between them. Legolas felt so torn, he had no clue as to what to do. He felt like grabbing Irulan and shaking her until she relented to him, promising that she would never ever Shift again - or even fight again. He wanted to tell her how his concern for her was driving him insane, breaking his concentration, threatening his mind and spirit. He wanted to make her understand that he had begun to feel more worried for her than this whole quest, more than Middle Earth itself. She had to understand how the thought of losing her was like a spell, taking hold of him every passing day, denying him food and sleep. She should know how in his dreams he was always strolling restless in a foreign, hostile wilderness, because he had lost his inner peace. He wanted to tell her so much how the world seemed diminished and insignificant when she looked at him. How he was ready to offer his soul the instant she touched him. How he would carelessly throw away all eternity to share one day with her, if he but only had the choice.
Legolas looked away and swallowed it all down. Irulan...the perfect beast roaming the forest, carefree and bold. Unaware of her own beauty and might; unaware of all admiring eyes. Free of the need of anything anyone could offer. Galloping by, not thinking how the sight of her had changed the heart of many; how the smell of her had driven countless insane; how the thought of her has ruined so many souls; how the wish to glimpse her one more time has become one common agony. Irulan: a blessing, a curse. The sum of all reasons, the question to all answers. Legolas sighed in despair. 'How can I endure this pain?' he thought in utter desperation. 'How can I live through this and not falter? Who will have mercy on my soul?'
Irulan, though, neither saw nor felt any of this. She was in her own little world, fighting her own inner battle. Finally she looked up to him and said "Let us join the others, then," slowly. She looked so tired, so exhausted. She turned away and walked towards the shore. Legolas followed her a moment later. Both did not talk again. They arrived there in time to see Aragorn putting on Boromir's leather armbands. Boromir was placed into one of the boats and looked more peaceful than he had looked for a long time now. He was holding his sword, in the fashion the kings of Gondor did before the funeral. They all participated in pushing the boat into the water. The current did the rest.
Irulan watched another part of her past drifting away from her. 'First Gandalf, now Boromir,' she thought bitterly. 'Everyone I know, everyone I value is taken from me. Everyone who remembers and values me is leaving me.' The thought startled her suddenly. 'Soon there will be no one left who knows my true heart. I am fading slowly from mind and heart. These men died for something greater. They died in valor and honor. I am dying this very moment, my being floating away with these so few who really know me. I will become a ghost..I will diminish and be forgotten...as if I never existed.' She felt another warm trickle of blood flowing down her nose again.
"Frodo and Sam have reached the eastern shore," said Legolas suddenly and began to push another boat into the water. Irulan and Aragorn looked at each other, then at the two hobbits, who had begun to disappear in the forest.
Legolas halted and looked from one to the other. "You mean not to follow them," he said, and it sounded more like an insight than a question.
"Frodo's destiny is not in our hands any longer," Aragorn said. Irulan slowly walked up to him with the rest of them.
"Then it has all been in vain," said Gimli. "The Fellowship has failed."
"Not if we hold true to each other," said Aragorn and lay a hand on both Legolas' and Gimli's shoulder. Both Irulan and the other two looked up at him in admiration. "We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death," he said, looking each in the eye. "Not while we have strength left."
"Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light. Let's hunt some orc," he said and a surge of hope flowed into Irulan. 'Maybe I will get my chance at honor after all,' she thought suddenly and wiped away the blood from her nose again. They swiftly ran into the forest and disappeared in the thick foliage.
Irulan would later look back at that moment and realize that the vase had indeed turned into a heap of shards, but that it had revealed another and yet untouched vase that had been waiting in that old vessel. Though no one in the world was even slightly aware of it and they themselves did not suspect it, a new Fellowship was formed that day on the shore of Parth Galen under the shadow of loss and desperation, between a man, a woman, a dwarf and an elf - each battling their inner wars and at the same time united to battle another war so save the nameless masses, and each bonded to one another in a unique and unbreakable fashion. Unknown to the rest of the world, a day had set but a new dawn was silently breaking at the shore of Anduin. And it would change the fate of Middle Earth.
In the midst of this world
We stroll along the roof of hell
Gawking at flowers
Issa