Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Departure of Boromir
A/N: Just thought I'd title this chapter rightly, since this is how it's titled in the book, or something of the like. Maybe the "Departing of Boromir" instead, but I really don't feel like getting up and checking in the book that's so inconveniently out of arm's distance. That would involve moving. My gosh, people, what do you expect of me? Anyway, I'm listening to Green Day, so anything I write … I might be high on banana peels or something. ^_^ NO DRUGS FOR YOU!
…
Running haphazardly toward the horn-blow, fast as she ran, however, Aila could not run quickly enough and she came to find Aragorn already there, Boromir lay dying at his side. Pierced by many arrows, the sight of Boromir was horrifying to Aila, but she ran to his side anyway and held his face in her hands as she put her cheek to his forehead.
"Boromir," she cried, tears streaming once more down her face. "Oh, how I am sorry. I knew this would happen, but I did nothing to stop it, I couldn't stop it. Now I wish I had meddled with fate!" She stroked the cheek of Boromir gently as he took his last breaths. "I am so sorry," sobs shuddered through her body, "I am sorry, Boromir. You were a great friend and I should have done more to keep you alive, rather than watch you die. I watched while the Ring possessed you, I waited while you were battling the Uruk-hai. Oh, the evil of my indecision!" She took several shuddering breaths while Boromir struggled on his own. Then, his breaths were no more and his heart failed to beat. Boromir had departed.
Aila sat there for a few more minutes, tears shattering her fragile complexion, her cheek upon Boromir's lifeless forehead. "May angels lead you in, mellonim," she whispered, not loud enough for Aragorn to hear the actual words, though he was barely a foot from her face. There was a rustling in the trees near them, but Aila did not look up, knowing that Legolas and Gimli had found them. Pulling herself away from her fallen friend, Aila sat next to the lifeless form, her face in her hands, her back against the tree. She clutched her knees tightly to her chest as Legolas, Gimli, and Aragorn spoke of their fallen friend and the comrades who were taken.
"They have taken Pippin and Merry. Frodo, Sam with him, has run from us and will enter Mordor alone. You will gather the weapons of the orcs he has slain and set Boromir in one of the elven boats to send him down the Anduin." She didn't care anymore about disclosing the future to them. Telling them what had occurred and what would happen outright was much quicker than letting them figure it out on their own.
Standing silently, Aila began to collect the weapons of the orcs Boromir had killed, who lay many across the ground. They carried Boromir's body back to their campsite and the men were surprised to find only two boats.
"There is a strange tale to tell," said Legolas. "There are only two boats upon the bank. We could find no trace of the other."
"Have orcs been there?" asked Aragorn.
"No," intervened Aila, and the three were relieved to find her speaking again. "Frodo and Sam have taken the third boat across the water to begin their trek to Mordor as I have said." They pulled the arrows from his body and set Boromir in the center of the boat that was the bear him down the river. It had taken them hours to send Boromir down the Anduin.
"Now we must decide," said Aragorn, "whether to follow Frodo into the Shadow, or save Merry and Pippin from the orcs."
"I will make it easy for you," said Aila, her back against a tree and she sank to the ground, hugging her knees close against her chest once more. "It's the only thing I can do now. You three shall follow the young hobbits and attempt to rescue them from the orcs of Saruman."
"Us three?" asked Gimli. "I count four, unless you are not coming with us, but it would be folly for you to stay, with orcs abroad in the woods."
"I can fend for myself," she replied. Tears no longer streamed down her face, but her expression was empty and helpless, as if she had lost her identity and all points of view.
"Aila," interjected Legolas. "You can hardly walk without tripping, how are you going to defend yourself against hundreds of orcs?" Aila laughed slightly at the unintentional joke. However, it wasn't her usual laugh, so full of warmth, joy, and vibrant with life. The chuckle that sprang forth from her throat was cold, heartless, and dead within her. As if she held no more feeling within her, not even in the depths of her soul. Legolas shivered at the sound.
"Come, Aila," said Aragorn, grasping her arm and pulling her bodily up into a standing position. "You will come and aid us in following the orcs. Our friendship is not broken."
"You mean you do not hate me?" A small glimmer of hope flickered in her dead eyes, but it was gone quickly. "After what I have done?" A small pause, then, "or what I haven't done. I knew what was going to take place, but I did nothing about it. I watched Boromir die before me, I waited while he was attacked, I could have saved him, aided Frodo in his decision, and saved the Company time. I could have avoided the orcs capturing those poor hobbits, but I did nothing. How you all must hate me. I will not bother you anymore with my presence." Her legs failed in supporting her body and she began to sink back towards the ground, but Aragorn held her firm, wrapping his arm around her waist.
"No, Aila," he said, soothingly, taking her face in his free hand. "We do not hate you, nor do we blame you. Though we are all greatly saddened by the departure of Boromir, I understand that you were helpless against fate." Taking her hand firmly in his, Aragorn pulled Aila behind him and gestured for elf and dwarf to follow him as well.
…
Aila was pulled along at an alarming speed. The four companions ran along the trail of the orcs, which took very little skill to find. Aragorn never released her arm and she had to oblige by running alongside him as they continued on their trail. They kept a fairly good pace, that Aila could easily keep up, and she was able to go a considerable distance before her breath was so laborious in her chest and cramps riddled her sides. Her throat was dry and she began coughing the dust that she was swallowing.
Thankfully, it was dark and the sun did not beat down upon her neck, as she had pulled her hair up into a ponytail with a hair-tie she had brought through the mirror and always kept with her.
"Look," she heard Legolas cry and she wouldn't have actually gone over to see if Aragorn wasn't pulling upon her arm.
"Aragorn," she whispered. "Let go of my arm, I'll go willingly." Trusting her to keep her word, Aragorn released her from his grasp and Aila rubbed where white finger marks could be seen plainly in the darkening night. The three men found dead orcs littering the road before them, thanks to Legolas' keen eyes. They continued pursuing the orcs long into the night and through to the coming dawn.
The sun rose on the eastern horizon and Aila was refreshed by its light enough to keep herself running steadily near the rear of the Company. They were all eager to go forward, even Aila, knowing who they would meet once they reached the Fangorn forest.
…
They followed the orc trail for several days, and steadily they felt like they were coming closer and were soon rewarded.
"Look," said Gimli, pointing ahead of them. "Why does that cloud hover so close to the ground?"
"That's not cloud," said Aila, smiling to herself. They were soon coming to the end of this particular journey. She was quickly tiring of running. "That is a dust cloud, kicked up by the feet of orcs and two small prisoners."
"We have come to a hard choice," said Aragorn, stopping to a walk while the others joined him. "Shall we rest by night, or shall we go on while our will and strength hold?"
"My heart bids me go on," said Legolas, "but we must hold together or else all is lost. I will follow your counsel."
"Yet even I, Dwarf of many journey, and not the least hardy of my folk, cannot run all the way to Isengard without any pause," replied Gimli. "You are our guide, and you are skilled in the chase. You shall choose." Their eyes fell upon Aila to cast her vote.
"Truly I feel the drawbacks of being of mortal men, and I contrive with Gimli. I am not weak as most, but I have not the endurance of elves and my heart has been screaming for rest some time now, but you bid that we go on and I am willing to follow you, whichever you may choose: rest or further hardship."
"You give the choice to an ill chooser," said Aragorn. "Since we passed through the Argonath my choices have gone amiss." He fell silent and bowed his head, and Aila knew he was thinking of Boromir's death.
"His death wasn't your fault, Aragorn," she cried. "It was meant to happen, what would happen to the Company if he had lived? If Merry and Pippin hadn't been captured? Trust me, it is much better off this way, though I do blame myself for Boromir's death. He was a great man, but you should not be blamed for his death."
"And neither should you," he replied quietly. Aila held her tongue and watched imploringly at her friend as he pondered their situation further. She wrung her hands as she waited and cast her eyes downward, frowning in disgust at her hands. Her fingernails were short from biting them, a habit she had never lost, and because she was Polish, they were large and seemed unwieldy compared to her thin wrists.
"We will not walk in the dark," Aragorn sighed after a few moments. "The peril of missing the trail or signs of other coming and going seems to me the greater. If the moon gave enough light, we could use it, but alas! he sets early and is yet young and pale. Well, I have chose, So let us use the time as best we may!"
Gratefully, Aila cast herself upon the ground, heedless of bedroll and blanket and put her arms under her head as she stared up at the clouded sky, stars twinkling where the clouds broke and sky streamed through. The moon's shimmer could be seen surrounding the cloud which blocked its light from her.
From a few feet away, she heard Aragorn's breath slow and she knew he had fallen asleep immediately after he had laid down. She heard the familiar grunting of Gimli in his sleep and she saw Legolas, on her other side, staring at the sky as well. Whether he was awake or asleep, she had no idea, because elves can sleep with their eyes open. Exhausted, Aila fell asleep.
…
Gimli shook Aila roughly awake before the sun had risen up into the black sky. The four ate a hurried breakfast and set out once again, at a quick march this time. That morning, Aila wanted to just lay back on the ground. She felt pale. Yes, she FELT pale.
It was a feeling she didn't have very often. It was a feeling of the greatest sadness and exhaustion that she only felt "pale" a few times in her entire life. But today she began the day pale--sorely depressed.
"Let us go," said Legolas, as rested as ever and for a brief second Aila felt utmost hatred that he could be so cheery and willing to go forward while she was so depressed and tired. She mentally slapped herself, however, and tried desperately to feel better those first few hours that they marched, holding silence amongst them. They marched until the sun began to set in the sky.
"The orcs have run before us, as if the very whips of Sauron were behind them. I fear they have already reached the forest and the dark hills," said Legolas.
"This is a bitter end to our hope and to all our toil!" Gimli said as he ground his teeth.
"To hope, maybe, but not to toil," replied Aragorn and Aila looked at the road ahead of them bitterly. "There is some will that lends speed to our foes and sets an unseen barrier before us: a weariness that is in the heart more than in the limb."
"Truly," cried Legolas after Aragorn said this. "I have known since first we came down from the Emyn Muil. For the will is not behind us but before us."
"Halt we must once more," said Aragorn and he seated himself upon the ground. Aila allowed her body to collapse to the ground.
"Hope is not yet lost. Take heart," was all Aila would say.
…
Again, Legolas was the first one awake, as if he had never slept and vaguely Aila wondered if he did. This morning she felt much better, not pale at all, but her usual tan self. They marched that day and Aila felt herself becoming even more jealous of Legolas, who stepped as lightly as ever, as she pleaded with her legs every step of the way to continue going.
"Look," said Gimli when she thought she could go no further. "Have we gone so far that we have caught up with them again? I see a dust cloud on the horizon." Aragorn lifted his head to look in the direction that Gimli was pointing and Legolas brought up a slender hand to shade his bright blue eyes from the searing sun.
But the dust cloud was growing larger, rather than diminishing, as if it was coming towards the small company.
"That is not right," replied Legolas as he stood tall, staring at the blur. Aragorn cast himself upon the ground and set an ear against the earth. "There are horseman coming towards us, Aragorn," he said calmly to their leader. Jumping up from the earth, having heard the vibrations, confirming Legolas, if Aragorn had ever doubted him.
"Riders!" he cried as he sprang to his feet. "Many riders on swift steeds--coming towards us!"
"Yes," said Legolas, "there are one hundred and five. Yellow is their hair and bright are their spears. Their leader is very tall."
"We know not what tidings they bring, but we shall await them to hear news, let us hide until we know their purpose, for good or evil."
"Already they approach," said Legolas as the men fell behind several bushes into hiding. Aila remained where she was and stared determinedly at the riders that came at her with at a furious pace. She cast the hood of the elven cloak over her face and stood still, against the charging riders who were still a league away.
"Aila," Aragorn cried, but Legolas had already jumped from the bushes and was wrapping his arms around her waist, bodily pulling her towards the bushes.
"You must have a death wish," whispered Legolas harshly into her ear as he pulled her behind the bushes with the others. Just in time, as well, because the riders began to pass them by.
…
The noise was tumultuous and Aila put her hands to her ears from under her cloak's hood. They had almost passed and several times Aila wanted to shout aloud for them to stop, but she waited for Aragorn, who obliged to do just that when the company had almost passed.
"What news from the north, Riders of Rohan?"
"Who are you and what are you doing in this land?" asked the leader of the men, calling the riders into a tight circle around the strangers, their spears pointed for their chests.
"I am called Strider," answered Aragorn. "I came out of the north. I am hunting orcs." Leaping from his horse and drawing his blade, he stood face to face with Aragorn, surveying him with partial wonder. Legolas and Gimli sat besides Aila, wondering what was going to happen to them.
"There is something strange about you, Strider. That is no name for a man that you give. And strange too is your raiment. Have you sprung out of the grass? How did you escape our sight? Are you elven folk?"
"No," replied Aragorn calmly, the blade tickling his chest. "One only of us is an elf, Legolas from the Woodland Realm in distant Mirkwood. But we have passed through Lothlorien, and the gifts and favor of the Lady go with us."
"I have heard of the evil that rules over the Wood of Lorien. Why do you not speak, silent ones?" he asked, gesturing towards the three still seated upon the ground. Aila reached up a nervous hand to ensure that her hood was enveloping her face in shadow.
"Give me your name, horse-master, and I will give you mine, and more besides," said Gimli as he stood from his seated position.
"I am Eomer, son of Eomund, Third Marshal of Riddermark."
"Then let Gimli the Dwarf warn you against foolish words. You speak evil of that which is fair beyond your thought, and only little wit can excuse you."
"I would cut off you head, beard and all, Master Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground." Aila tired of the insults they exchanged, but from Gimli's side she saw a slight rustling.
"He stands not alone," said Legolas and she saw that he was bending his bow, fitting an arrow to the string with hands that moved faster than sight. "You would die before your stroke fell." Eomer did not raise his sword, but cast his eyes upon Aila, who remained seated upon the ground, her hood over her face. He strode over to her, past Gimli and Legolas and put his sword tip under her hood, as if to lift it from her face.
"Who are you and why do you hide your face from us."
"I am Aaron of the men," she lied, deepening her voice. She prayed that the rest would not contradict anything that she said about herself. "I come from Bree and as a child had a terrible accident that crippled my face. I cast this hood about my face so that others do not need look upon my handicap and ugliness." She stood up as she said this and tilted her head downwards so that the cloak stayed in place, thankful for the manly traveling clothes she wore and for her large, masculine hands.
…
A/N: Oh the joys of author hood. I just thought that I would post two chapters a day for a while. Since this is only pg. 47 on my comp. And I've got about 90 pages written now, and I know everybody's starving for it to be done. And then I have the beginning of the ending done already, since like the beginning of the BEGINNING of this story. In fact, I wrote the end before I wrote the beginning. That's how I work, I guess. I've got to write a whole bunch of filler, though, so hang tight. School's starting to pick up so I MAY have to take a break. Oh, and on Friday, the 13th, I won't be able to post because I'm doing a color guard for a football game and I'm doing Titan practice, so I MAY be able to post between color guard practice, which is after titan practice, and before I go to the game. So there you go, and then I might just stay to watch the game. But I'm not the biggest High School football fan, so yeah. I'm going to go watch when we play this one team, because I have a friend on that football team, so I'm going to go make fun of him. Because we work like that. Right-o, don't expect anything on Friday!
A/N: Just thought I'd title this chapter rightly, since this is how it's titled in the book, or something of the like. Maybe the "Departing of Boromir" instead, but I really don't feel like getting up and checking in the book that's so inconveniently out of arm's distance. That would involve moving. My gosh, people, what do you expect of me? Anyway, I'm listening to Green Day, so anything I write … I might be high on banana peels or something. ^_^ NO DRUGS FOR YOU!
…
Running haphazardly toward the horn-blow, fast as she ran, however, Aila could not run quickly enough and she came to find Aragorn already there, Boromir lay dying at his side. Pierced by many arrows, the sight of Boromir was horrifying to Aila, but she ran to his side anyway and held his face in her hands as she put her cheek to his forehead.
"Boromir," she cried, tears streaming once more down her face. "Oh, how I am sorry. I knew this would happen, but I did nothing to stop it, I couldn't stop it. Now I wish I had meddled with fate!" She stroked the cheek of Boromir gently as he took his last breaths. "I am so sorry," sobs shuddered through her body, "I am sorry, Boromir. You were a great friend and I should have done more to keep you alive, rather than watch you die. I watched while the Ring possessed you, I waited while you were battling the Uruk-hai. Oh, the evil of my indecision!" She took several shuddering breaths while Boromir struggled on his own. Then, his breaths were no more and his heart failed to beat. Boromir had departed.
Aila sat there for a few more minutes, tears shattering her fragile complexion, her cheek upon Boromir's lifeless forehead. "May angels lead you in, mellonim," she whispered, not loud enough for Aragorn to hear the actual words, though he was barely a foot from her face. There was a rustling in the trees near them, but Aila did not look up, knowing that Legolas and Gimli had found them. Pulling herself away from her fallen friend, Aila sat next to the lifeless form, her face in her hands, her back against the tree. She clutched her knees tightly to her chest as Legolas, Gimli, and Aragorn spoke of their fallen friend and the comrades who were taken.
"They have taken Pippin and Merry. Frodo, Sam with him, has run from us and will enter Mordor alone. You will gather the weapons of the orcs he has slain and set Boromir in one of the elven boats to send him down the Anduin." She didn't care anymore about disclosing the future to them. Telling them what had occurred and what would happen outright was much quicker than letting them figure it out on their own.
Standing silently, Aila began to collect the weapons of the orcs Boromir had killed, who lay many across the ground. They carried Boromir's body back to their campsite and the men were surprised to find only two boats.
"There is a strange tale to tell," said Legolas. "There are only two boats upon the bank. We could find no trace of the other."
"Have orcs been there?" asked Aragorn.
"No," intervened Aila, and the three were relieved to find her speaking again. "Frodo and Sam have taken the third boat across the water to begin their trek to Mordor as I have said." They pulled the arrows from his body and set Boromir in the center of the boat that was the bear him down the river. It had taken them hours to send Boromir down the Anduin.
"Now we must decide," said Aragorn, "whether to follow Frodo into the Shadow, or save Merry and Pippin from the orcs."
"I will make it easy for you," said Aila, her back against a tree and she sank to the ground, hugging her knees close against her chest once more. "It's the only thing I can do now. You three shall follow the young hobbits and attempt to rescue them from the orcs of Saruman."
"Us three?" asked Gimli. "I count four, unless you are not coming with us, but it would be folly for you to stay, with orcs abroad in the woods."
"I can fend for myself," she replied. Tears no longer streamed down her face, but her expression was empty and helpless, as if she had lost her identity and all points of view.
"Aila," interjected Legolas. "You can hardly walk without tripping, how are you going to defend yourself against hundreds of orcs?" Aila laughed slightly at the unintentional joke. However, it wasn't her usual laugh, so full of warmth, joy, and vibrant with life. The chuckle that sprang forth from her throat was cold, heartless, and dead within her. As if she held no more feeling within her, not even in the depths of her soul. Legolas shivered at the sound.
"Come, Aila," said Aragorn, grasping her arm and pulling her bodily up into a standing position. "You will come and aid us in following the orcs. Our friendship is not broken."
"You mean you do not hate me?" A small glimmer of hope flickered in her dead eyes, but it was gone quickly. "After what I have done?" A small pause, then, "or what I haven't done. I knew what was going to take place, but I did nothing about it. I watched Boromir die before me, I waited while he was attacked, I could have saved him, aided Frodo in his decision, and saved the Company time. I could have avoided the orcs capturing those poor hobbits, but I did nothing. How you all must hate me. I will not bother you anymore with my presence." Her legs failed in supporting her body and she began to sink back towards the ground, but Aragorn held her firm, wrapping his arm around her waist.
"No, Aila," he said, soothingly, taking her face in his free hand. "We do not hate you, nor do we blame you. Though we are all greatly saddened by the departure of Boromir, I understand that you were helpless against fate." Taking her hand firmly in his, Aragorn pulled Aila behind him and gestured for elf and dwarf to follow him as well.
…
Aila was pulled along at an alarming speed. The four companions ran along the trail of the orcs, which took very little skill to find. Aragorn never released her arm and she had to oblige by running alongside him as they continued on their trail. They kept a fairly good pace, that Aila could easily keep up, and she was able to go a considerable distance before her breath was so laborious in her chest and cramps riddled her sides. Her throat was dry and she began coughing the dust that she was swallowing.
Thankfully, it was dark and the sun did not beat down upon her neck, as she had pulled her hair up into a ponytail with a hair-tie she had brought through the mirror and always kept with her.
"Look," she heard Legolas cry and she wouldn't have actually gone over to see if Aragorn wasn't pulling upon her arm.
"Aragorn," she whispered. "Let go of my arm, I'll go willingly." Trusting her to keep her word, Aragorn released her from his grasp and Aila rubbed where white finger marks could be seen plainly in the darkening night. The three men found dead orcs littering the road before them, thanks to Legolas' keen eyes. They continued pursuing the orcs long into the night and through to the coming dawn.
The sun rose on the eastern horizon and Aila was refreshed by its light enough to keep herself running steadily near the rear of the Company. They were all eager to go forward, even Aila, knowing who they would meet once they reached the Fangorn forest.
…
They followed the orc trail for several days, and steadily they felt like they were coming closer and were soon rewarded.
"Look," said Gimli, pointing ahead of them. "Why does that cloud hover so close to the ground?"
"That's not cloud," said Aila, smiling to herself. They were soon coming to the end of this particular journey. She was quickly tiring of running. "That is a dust cloud, kicked up by the feet of orcs and two small prisoners."
"We have come to a hard choice," said Aragorn, stopping to a walk while the others joined him. "Shall we rest by night, or shall we go on while our will and strength hold?"
"My heart bids me go on," said Legolas, "but we must hold together or else all is lost. I will follow your counsel."
"Yet even I, Dwarf of many journey, and not the least hardy of my folk, cannot run all the way to Isengard without any pause," replied Gimli. "You are our guide, and you are skilled in the chase. You shall choose." Their eyes fell upon Aila to cast her vote.
"Truly I feel the drawbacks of being of mortal men, and I contrive with Gimli. I am not weak as most, but I have not the endurance of elves and my heart has been screaming for rest some time now, but you bid that we go on and I am willing to follow you, whichever you may choose: rest or further hardship."
"You give the choice to an ill chooser," said Aragorn. "Since we passed through the Argonath my choices have gone amiss." He fell silent and bowed his head, and Aila knew he was thinking of Boromir's death.
"His death wasn't your fault, Aragorn," she cried. "It was meant to happen, what would happen to the Company if he had lived? If Merry and Pippin hadn't been captured? Trust me, it is much better off this way, though I do blame myself for Boromir's death. He was a great man, but you should not be blamed for his death."
"And neither should you," he replied quietly. Aila held her tongue and watched imploringly at her friend as he pondered their situation further. She wrung her hands as she waited and cast her eyes downward, frowning in disgust at her hands. Her fingernails were short from biting them, a habit she had never lost, and because she was Polish, they were large and seemed unwieldy compared to her thin wrists.
"We will not walk in the dark," Aragorn sighed after a few moments. "The peril of missing the trail or signs of other coming and going seems to me the greater. If the moon gave enough light, we could use it, but alas! he sets early and is yet young and pale. Well, I have chose, So let us use the time as best we may!"
Gratefully, Aila cast herself upon the ground, heedless of bedroll and blanket and put her arms under her head as she stared up at the clouded sky, stars twinkling where the clouds broke and sky streamed through. The moon's shimmer could be seen surrounding the cloud which blocked its light from her.
From a few feet away, she heard Aragorn's breath slow and she knew he had fallen asleep immediately after he had laid down. She heard the familiar grunting of Gimli in his sleep and she saw Legolas, on her other side, staring at the sky as well. Whether he was awake or asleep, she had no idea, because elves can sleep with their eyes open. Exhausted, Aila fell asleep.
…
Gimli shook Aila roughly awake before the sun had risen up into the black sky. The four ate a hurried breakfast and set out once again, at a quick march this time. That morning, Aila wanted to just lay back on the ground. She felt pale. Yes, she FELT pale.
It was a feeling she didn't have very often. It was a feeling of the greatest sadness and exhaustion that she only felt "pale" a few times in her entire life. But today she began the day pale--sorely depressed.
"Let us go," said Legolas, as rested as ever and for a brief second Aila felt utmost hatred that he could be so cheery and willing to go forward while she was so depressed and tired. She mentally slapped herself, however, and tried desperately to feel better those first few hours that they marched, holding silence amongst them. They marched until the sun began to set in the sky.
"The orcs have run before us, as if the very whips of Sauron were behind them. I fear they have already reached the forest and the dark hills," said Legolas.
"This is a bitter end to our hope and to all our toil!" Gimli said as he ground his teeth.
"To hope, maybe, but not to toil," replied Aragorn and Aila looked at the road ahead of them bitterly. "There is some will that lends speed to our foes and sets an unseen barrier before us: a weariness that is in the heart more than in the limb."
"Truly," cried Legolas after Aragorn said this. "I have known since first we came down from the Emyn Muil. For the will is not behind us but before us."
"Halt we must once more," said Aragorn and he seated himself upon the ground. Aila allowed her body to collapse to the ground.
"Hope is not yet lost. Take heart," was all Aila would say.
…
Again, Legolas was the first one awake, as if he had never slept and vaguely Aila wondered if he did. This morning she felt much better, not pale at all, but her usual tan self. They marched that day and Aila felt herself becoming even more jealous of Legolas, who stepped as lightly as ever, as she pleaded with her legs every step of the way to continue going.
"Look," said Gimli when she thought she could go no further. "Have we gone so far that we have caught up with them again? I see a dust cloud on the horizon." Aragorn lifted his head to look in the direction that Gimli was pointing and Legolas brought up a slender hand to shade his bright blue eyes from the searing sun.
But the dust cloud was growing larger, rather than diminishing, as if it was coming towards the small company.
"That is not right," replied Legolas as he stood tall, staring at the blur. Aragorn cast himself upon the ground and set an ear against the earth. "There are horseman coming towards us, Aragorn," he said calmly to their leader. Jumping up from the earth, having heard the vibrations, confirming Legolas, if Aragorn had ever doubted him.
"Riders!" he cried as he sprang to his feet. "Many riders on swift steeds--coming towards us!"
"Yes," said Legolas, "there are one hundred and five. Yellow is their hair and bright are their spears. Their leader is very tall."
"We know not what tidings they bring, but we shall await them to hear news, let us hide until we know their purpose, for good or evil."
"Already they approach," said Legolas as the men fell behind several bushes into hiding. Aila remained where she was and stared determinedly at the riders that came at her with at a furious pace. She cast the hood of the elven cloak over her face and stood still, against the charging riders who were still a league away.
"Aila," Aragorn cried, but Legolas had already jumped from the bushes and was wrapping his arms around her waist, bodily pulling her towards the bushes.
"You must have a death wish," whispered Legolas harshly into her ear as he pulled her behind the bushes with the others. Just in time, as well, because the riders began to pass them by.
…
The noise was tumultuous and Aila put her hands to her ears from under her cloak's hood. They had almost passed and several times Aila wanted to shout aloud for them to stop, but she waited for Aragorn, who obliged to do just that when the company had almost passed.
"What news from the north, Riders of Rohan?"
"Who are you and what are you doing in this land?" asked the leader of the men, calling the riders into a tight circle around the strangers, their spears pointed for their chests.
"I am called Strider," answered Aragorn. "I came out of the north. I am hunting orcs." Leaping from his horse and drawing his blade, he stood face to face with Aragorn, surveying him with partial wonder. Legolas and Gimli sat besides Aila, wondering what was going to happen to them.
"There is something strange about you, Strider. That is no name for a man that you give. And strange too is your raiment. Have you sprung out of the grass? How did you escape our sight? Are you elven folk?"
"No," replied Aragorn calmly, the blade tickling his chest. "One only of us is an elf, Legolas from the Woodland Realm in distant Mirkwood. But we have passed through Lothlorien, and the gifts and favor of the Lady go with us."
"I have heard of the evil that rules over the Wood of Lorien. Why do you not speak, silent ones?" he asked, gesturing towards the three still seated upon the ground. Aila reached up a nervous hand to ensure that her hood was enveloping her face in shadow.
"Give me your name, horse-master, and I will give you mine, and more besides," said Gimli as he stood from his seated position.
"I am Eomer, son of Eomund, Third Marshal of Riddermark."
"Then let Gimli the Dwarf warn you against foolish words. You speak evil of that which is fair beyond your thought, and only little wit can excuse you."
"I would cut off you head, beard and all, Master Dwarf, if it stood but a little higher from the ground." Aila tired of the insults they exchanged, but from Gimli's side she saw a slight rustling.
"He stands not alone," said Legolas and she saw that he was bending his bow, fitting an arrow to the string with hands that moved faster than sight. "You would die before your stroke fell." Eomer did not raise his sword, but cast his eyes upon Aila, who remained seated upon the ground, her hood over her face. He strode over to her, past Gimli and Legolas and put his sword tip under her hood, as if to lift it from her face.
"Who are you and why do you hide your face from us."
"I am Aaron of the men," she lied, deepening her voice. She prayed that the rest would not contradict anything that she said about herself. "I come from Bree and as a child had a terrible accident that crippled my face. I cast this hood about my face so that others do not need look upon my handicap and ugliness." She stood up as she said this and tilted her head downwards so that the cloak stayed in place, thankful for the manly traveling clothes she wore and for her large, masculine hands.
…
A/N: Oh the joys of author hood. I just thought that I would post two chapters a day for a while. Since this is only pg. 47 on my comp. And I've got about 90 pages written now, and I know everybody's starving for it to be done. And then I have the beginning of the ending done already, since like the beginning of the BEGINNING of this story. In fact, I wrote the end before I wrote the beginning. That's how I work, I guess. I've got to write a whole bunch of filler, though, so hang tight. School's starting to pick up so I MAY have to take a break. Oh, and on Friday, the 13th, I won't be able to post because I'm doing a color guard for a football game and I'm doing Titan practice, so I MAY be able to post between color guard practice, which is after titan practice, and before I go to the game. So there you go, and then I might just stay to watch the game. But I'm not the biggest High School football fan, so yeah. I'm going to go watch when we play this one team, because I have a friend on that football team, so I'm going to go make fun of him. Because we work like that. Right-o, don't expect anything on Friday!