Elessar looked over at Sal who rode silently beside him. The dark shadows
under his eyes suggested that this wasn't the first night his sleep had
been disturbed by nightmares. It wasn't that Sal had had nightmares that
worried him, since everyone had a bad night occasionally, it was the
expression on his face when he awoke. Elessar hadn't seen Sal that scared
since he was a sixteen-year-old boy, wielding a sword he didn't know how to
use properly in battle against orcs. Elessar couldn't imagine what could
frighten a trained soldier and Ranger so badly.
"What was in your dream?" Elessar asked.
"It doesn't matter," Sal said, "it was only a dream after all." But Elessar saw the quickly suppressed shudder as he reminded Sal of his nightmare.
They rode on all day, Sal and Elessar side by side, with Parlond riding a short distance behind them. Sal was lost in his own thoughts throughout the journey, and Elessar had no doubt they were of his dream.
The stopped to make camp beside a small spring on top of a rise. They were in Rohan now, and their position gave a good view of the land around them. A small circle of stones surrounding a pile of ash suggested that others had used this place before them, but the ashes were cold and no one had stopped here for some time.
Parlond seemed surprised when Elessar did much of the work himself, finding wood and laying the fire, while the others rubbed down the horses. Elessar then heated some of their supplies over the small fire. He did this himself as he wasn't sure how good a cook Parlond would be, rarely having left Minas Tirith, and Sal was too distracted at the moment to be sure he wouldn't burn everything.
"I'll take first watch," Sal said, once their meal was finished.
"Are you sure?" Elessar asked, concerned. Sal nodded, and Elessar guessed he was trying to put off sleep for as long as possible.
It felt like only minutes had gone by when Sal shook Elessar awake for his watch. He yawned widely, hardly refreshed by his sleep, and hoped he would be able to stay awake. It had been too long since he had been forced to keep watch and he was out of the habit. He'd better not tell Sal, or he'd be teased mercilessly about going soft. He glanced across at where Sal was dying down reluctantly to sleep, and wondered if Sal was in any condition to tease anyone.
He might dismiss his nightmare as nothing, but Elessar knew how disturbed he was by it. He just wished Sal would tell him what was wrong. Until now he had thought Sal would trust him with anything.
When Elessar's eyes began to close of their own accord, he got to his feet, and walked slowly around their small camp, hoping that the exercise would help keep him awake. He was passing close to Sal, when he sat up, a scream coming from his lips. Elessar dropped to Sal's side, his hands on Sal's shoulders. Sal cried out and tried to pull away from him, his eyes staring blindly in front of him.
"Sal, it's me. It's Elessar." Suddenly Sal became aware of his surroundings. He looked into Elessar's face, and then collapsed into his arms. Elessar held the trembling body of his friend, giving him the comfort of his presence. What could frighten Sal into this state? Sal trembled and clung to Elessar, almost childlike in his fear.
It wasn't long before Sal pulled away, regaining his normal composure. Parlond was awake as well now, watching them curiously.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"Why?" Elessar said, "You haven't done anything wrong."
"I'm afraid," Sal admitted quietly.
"Of what?"
"I don't know. I can remember the dream, and I can remember being terrified, but what it is that frightens me so much about the dream vanishes once I wake up."
"How long have you been having these dreams?"
"Every night for almost ten nights now."
"And what do you see? Are they all the same?" Elessar hoped that by getting Sal to speak about his dreams and share his fear it would have less of a hold over him.
"I see myself killing Boromir again. I see his blood on my hands and then I wake up. Sometimes he looks at me, and I see his eyes burning red."
"You're afraid of killing a good man," Elessar said, "I can think of far worse fears to have."
"It's not that I'm afraid of. It's. . . something else." Sal shook his head, as though trying to dislodge some thought, and looked out into the darkness that surrounded their small camp.
"Why don't you go back to sleep," Sal suggested after a while, "I'll keep watch. I doubt I'll be able to sleep any more tonight."
"Neither will I," Elessar said, "I'm not used to sleeping on hard ground."
"Going soft?" Sal said, with a small smile forming.
"It's not my softness that's the problem," he replied, "it's the fact that the earth's got harder since I last slept outdoors." His words had the desired affect, and Sal was able to relax slightly. Parlond returned to sleep, but Elessar and Sal sat awake, Sal unable to sleep and Elessar not wanting his friend to suffer alone.
Unfortunately, neither of them was paying enough attention to their surroundings. When the orcs leapt out of the darkness, both Sal and Elessar were on their feet instantly, drawing their swords.
"Parlond!" Elessar shouted, and Parlond was awake at once, reaching for his weapon. Elessar brought Anduril up to block a blow from one of the leading orcs, trusting the others to defend themselves. Then an agonising scream tore the air beside him. He looked round to see Sal lying on the ground, motionless, his face filled with pain and fear.
***
Author's note: I'm very disappointed that nobody reviewed the last chapter. If you don't review I might decide to leave you with this cliffhanger.
"What was in your dream?" Elessar asked.
"It doesn't matter," Sal said, "it was only a dream after all." But Elessar saw the quickly suppressed shudder as he reminded Sal of his nightmare.
They rode on all day, Sal and Elessar side by side, with Parlond riding a short distance behind them. Sal was lost in his own thoughts throughout the journey, and Elessar had no doubt they were of his dream.
The stopped to make camp beside a small spring on top of a rise. They were in Rohan now, and their position gave a good view of the land around them. A small circle of stones surrounding a pile of ash suggested that others had used this place before them, but the ashes were cold and no one had stopped here for some time.
Parlond seemed surprised when Elessar did much of the work himself, finding wood and laying the fire, while the others rubbed down the horses. Elessar then heated some of their supplies over the small fire. He did this himself as he wasn't sure how good a cook Parlond would be, rarely having left Minas Tirith, and Sal was too distracted at the moment to be sure he wouldn't burn everything.
"I'll take first watch," Sal said, once their meal was finished.
"Are you sure?" Elessar asked, concerned. Sal nodded, and Elessar guessed he was trying to put off sleep for as long as possible.
It felt like only minutes had gone by when Sal shook Elessar awake for his watch. He yawned widely, hardly refreshed by his sleep, and hoped he would be able to stay awake. It had been too long since he had been forced to keep watch and he was out of the habit. He'd better not tell Sal, or he'd be teased mercilessly about going soft. He glanced across at where Sal was dying down reluctantly to sleep, and wondered if Sal was in any condition to tease anyone.
He might dismiss his nightmare as nothing, but Elessar knew how disturbed he was by it. He just wished Sal would tell him what was wrong. Until now he had thought Sal would trust him with anything.
When Elessar's eyes began to close of their own accord, he got to his feet, and walked slowly around their small camp, hoping that the exercise would help keep him awake. He was passing close to Sal, when he sat up, a scream coming from his lips. Elessar dropped to Sal's side, his hands on Sal's shoulders. Sal cried out and tried to pull away from him, his eyes staring blindly in front of him.
"Sal, it's me. It's Elessar." Suddenly Sal became aware of his surroundings. He looked into Elessar's face, and then collapsed into his arms. Elessar held the trembling body of his friend, giving him the comfort of his presence. What could frighten Sal into this state? Sal trembled and clung to Elessar, almost childlike in his fear.
It wasn't long before Sal pulled away, regaining his normal composure. Parlond was awake as well now, watching them curiously.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"Why?" Elessar said, "You haven't done anything wrong."
"I'm afraid," Sal admitted quietly.
"Of what?"
"I don't know. I can remember the dream, and I can remember being terrified, but what it is that frightens me so much about the dream vanishes once I wake up."
"How long have you been having these dreams?"
"Every night for almost ten nights now."
"And what do you see? Are they all the same?" Elessar hoped that by getting Sal to speak about his dreams and share his fear it would have less of a hold over him.
"I see myself killing Boromir again. I see his blood on my hands and then I wake up. Sometimes he looks at me, and I see his eyes burning red."
"You're afraid of killing a good man," Elessar said, "I can think of far worse fears to have."
"It's not that I'm afraid of. It's. . . something else." Sal shook his head, as though trying to dislodge some thought, and looked out into the darkness that surrounded their small camp.
"Why don't you go back to sleep," Sal suggested after a while, "I'll keep watch. I doubt I'll be able to sleep any more tonight."
"Neither will I," Elessar said, "I'm not used to sleeping on hard ground."
"Going soft?" Sal said, with a small smile forming.
"It's not my softness that's the problem," he replied, "it's the fact that the earth's got harder since I last slept outdoors." His words had the desired affect, and Sal was able to relax slightly. Parlond returned to sleep, but Elessar and Sal sat awake, Sal unable to sleep and Elessar not wanting his friend to suffer alone.
Unfortunately, neither of them was paying enough attention to their surroundings. When the orcs leapt out of the darkness, both Sal and Elessar were on their feet instantly, drawing their swords.
"Parlond!" Elessar shouted, and Parlond was awake at once, reaching for his weapon. Elessar brought Anduril up to block a blow from one of the leading orcs, trusting the others to defend themselves. Then an agonising scream tore the air beside him. He looked round to see Sal lying on the ground, motionless, his face filled with pain and fear.
***
Author's note: I'm very disappointed that nobody reviewed the last chapter. If you don't review I might decide to leave you with this cliffhanger.