A/N: Dear me. Illness, birthdays, work, you name it. It's stopped me from
getting new chapters up. But I'm better, the birthdays are over and we're
back on track. A little note for Mawgy, read on to find out why Aragorn
didn't know who Haldir was. Remember this is a little AU (what with the A/L
thing) so it's not all the same. Read on. Go!
Just Outside
It is only when I look back I realise how little I remember of that last dash to the safety of the trees. Aragorn tells me somewhat over dramatically of near deaths sheer drops and untrustworthy elves. I always scowl at him as he recounts the tale and marvel at how it changes every time. He must enjoy the power over me, whatever he says I must believe. I have no power to say otherwise. I cannot now ask Boromir what occurred.
I so remember the near fall. My knowledge of what was going on around was hazy, as if I had just woken up from a deep sleep. I felt a sharp jolt, a down wards motion and hands grabbing at me. From the muffled sounds and cries I was able to make out the roughness and the marks left on my delicate skin were necessary. There was alarm in the air. Then sudden security. Hands once more grasped me. But these were rougher, larger than Aragorn's. I suspected Boromir, though I did not pick up his scent, no other would be able or allowed to carry me. Despite the fact I had just been rescued from some hideous unseen fate, I still did not feel happy where I was and concern for Aragorn waded through my mind, which I now imagined to be like treacle. No senses to rely on, where emotions flashed through my mind before, now they lazily wandered, lost and alien. Could I be really losing the power of coherent thought? Nay, nothing is that powerful, nothing boasts that ability. I was jerked yet again by sudden movement. It was hasty, always not thought out. Boromir, moved tentatively, pulsing forward, I did understand until I was shifted against the Son of Gondor's chest. He was trying to keep me horizontal. Preventing from lurching forwards, or more importantly downwards. Abruptly Boromir hit the bottom, bending his knees to take the impact of sudden ground beneath his feet, I would have crashed to the ground if he had not thought and moved fast.
This was anxious, loud conversation above me, I was now unable to make it out. I was stopped from trying by Boromir surging forward, away from the others. This frightened me no end. Where was he taking me? Why away from the others? I quickly remembered how close we were to Lothlorien, in fact Boromir should entering the woods any second. No harm would come to me here. There was more conversing, only through the silence around could I make out the sound. To my horror, Boromir's grip was loosening, what was he doing? I was moving forward away from his body. More hands were felt under my body. At least I could feel that sensation I told myself. My ability to feel the touch of another was one of the few things I had left. That too was fading fast, but I still possessed it. The new hands were soft and gentle, and I was pulled against I new smaller chest, the owner had to been elven. A man that size would not be able to support my weight. Someone whispered in my ear, I had to strain to hear even that. The speaker had to do so twice before he was sure I had heard. I could not react outwardly, but he spoke in elvish, soft and fluent. I was even able to place the voice; I willed my slow mind to think. Haldir. The elf I had spoken to during our first visit to the woods. I remember pleading with him to allow a dwarf to enter the woods and see the Lady. A glance to my left had shown my lover fighting the same battle with another, equally incredulous, stone faced dwarf. It was Haldir that had relented in the end.
If I were able to I would have complained about how I was being passed around like a rag doll when again more hands reached for me. By then I was losing what I had left of my unconsciousness, the darkness in which I lived was becoming that little thicker, just slightly less light if possible. My last thought is that it had better have been Aragorn who was lumbered with me, as the figure bent down and kissed my hair lightly.
I woke up lying on a soft flat bed, my clothes changed I could not feel the constraint of my leggings tight around my waist. My head seemed less groggy, like somebody had opened a window, letting in the fresh air. I have not yet opened my eyes, due to my blindness; it was no longer my instinct to open them as I woke. If I were truly well, I would sleep with them open, I thought bitterly. I bit the bullet and opened them.
I still lived in darkness. But wait, tiny dots of light swam through my vision. They had certainly not been there before. I almost cried out with joy. I strained to see if I could hear anything. Anything at all, footsteps, voices, birdsong. Nothing. Patience is a virtue I reminded myself, still not knowing if my senses would return. My next thought was of Aragorn. How I longed for him to be here. If I had any idea where exactly I was, or indeed where he was, I would have considered getting up and finding him. I knew he would not leave me for long, especially if he believed me to me awake.
As it happened I was left for quite some time.
I questioned Aragorn about this later; he assured me he really did have his hands full, just outside the door. . . . . .
A/N: Yes, I'm a real whore with cliffhangers, you know you love it really. Should, fingers crossed get a new chapter up tomorrow evening.
Just Outside
It is only when I look back I realise how little I remember of that last dash to the safety of the trees. Aragorn tells me somewhat over dramatically of near deaths sheer drops and untrustworthy elves. I always scowl at him as he recounts the tale and marvel at how it changes every time. He must enjoy the power over me, whatever he says I must believe. I have no power to say otherwise. I cannot now ask Boromir what occurred.
I so remember the near fall. My knowledge of what was going on around was hazy, as if I had just woken up from a deep sleep. I felt a sharp jolt, a down wards motion and hands grabbing at me. From the muffled sounds and cries I was able to make out the roughness and the marks left on my delicate skin were necessary. There was alarm in the air. Then sudden security. Hands once more grasped me. But these were rougher, larger than Aragorn's. I suspected Boromir, though I did not pick up his scent, no other would be able or allowed to carry me. Despite the fact I had just been rescued from some hideous unseen fate, I still did not feel happy where I was and concern for Aragorn waded through my mind, which I now imagined to be like treacle. No senses to rely on, where emotions flashed through my mind before, now they lazily wandered, lost and alien. Could I be really losing the power of coherent thought? Nay, nothing is that powerful, nothing boasts that ability. I was jerked yet again by sudden movement. It was hasty, always not thought out. Boromir, moved tentatively, pulsing forward, I did understand until I was shifted against the Son of Gondor's chest. He was trying to keep me horizontal. Preventing from lurching forwards, or more importantly downwards. Abruptly Boromir hit the bottom, bending his knees to take the impact of sudden ground beneath his feet, I would have crashed to the ground if he had not thought and moved fast.
This was anxious, loud conversation above me, I was now unable to make it out. I was stopped from trying by Boromir surging forward, away from the others. This frightened me no end. Where was he taking me? Why away from the others? I quickly remembered how close we were to Lothlorien, in fact Boromir should entering the woods any second. No harm would come to me here. There was more conversing, only through the silence around could I make out the sound. To my horror, Boromir's grip was loosening, what was he doing? I was moving forward away from his body. More hands were felt under my body. At least I could feel that sensation I told myself. My ability to feel the touch of another was one of the few things I had left. That too was fading fast, but I still possessed it. The new hands were soft and gentle, and I was pulled against I new smaller chest, the owner had to been elven. A man that size would not be able to support my weight. Someone whispered in my ear, I had to strain to hear even that. The speaker had to do so twice before he was sure I had heard. I could not react outwardly, but he spoke in elvish, soft and fluent. I was even able to place the voice; I willed my slow mind to think. Haldir. The elf I had spoken to during our first visit to the woods. I remember pleading with him to allow a dwarf to enter the woods and see the Lady. A glance to my left had shown my lover fighting the same battle with another, equally incredulous, stone faced dwarf. It was Haldir that had relented in the end.
If I were able to I would have complained about how I was being passed around like a rag doll when again more hands reached for me. By then I was losing what I had left of my unconsciousness, the darkness in which I lived was becoming that little thicker, just slightly less light if possible. My last thought is that it had better have been Aragorn who was lumbered with me, as the figure bent down and kissed my hair lightly.
I woke up lying on a soft flat bed, my clothes changed I could not feel the constraint of my leggings tight around my waist. My head seemed less groggy, like somebody had opened a window, letting in the fresh air. I have not yet opened my eyes, due to my blindness; it was no longer my instinct to open them as I woke. If I were truly well, I would sleep with them open, I thought bitterly. I bit the bullet and opened them.
I still lived in darkness. But wait, tiny dots of light swam through my vision. They had certainly not been there before. I almost cried out with joy. I strained to see if I could hear anything. Anything at all, footsteps, voices, birdsong. Nothing. Patience is a virtue I reminded myself, still not knowing if my senses would return. My next thought was of Aragorn. How I longed for him to be here. If I had any idea where exactly I was, or indeed where he was, I would have considered getting up and finding him. I knew he would not leave me for long, especially if he believed me to me awake.
As it happened I was left for quite some time.
I questioned Aragorn about this later; he assured me he really did have his hands full, just outside the door. . . . . .
A/N: Yes, I'm a real whore with cliffhangers, you know you love it really. Should, fingers crossed get a new chapter up tomorrow evening.