The True Greate Jorney

Chapter 5 - The Glorious Ploy

How long she slumbered, she could not tell, nor could she say how often she had woken. All Agarwaenloth knew was that her aching body was soothed, fierce pangs from fatigue and illness passing from her into a gentle weakness. As the pain subsided into numbness, she was slowly able to comprehend the blurred images that passed before her eyes.

The first thing she could recall after fainting was Draug's voice. He was speaking with someone whose voice she couldn't distinguish, whispering softly as if not to disturb her. She understood nothing he said, but the constant murmur of voices was soothing. Soon enough she grew to recognize the voice Draug spoke most often: a low baritone with a soft tremble when pronouncing Elvish words. It was a strong voice, but sounded as though its owner always spoke with a half-sneer.

One day, after many days of listening to voices, Agarwaenloth realized that she had opened her eyes. Although she was weak she forced herself up onto her elbows to look around. After a moment she recognized the room. A sad smile settled onto her features: she could see her father and Gimli having a hushed conversation at the table, Pippin standing by the very bed she now lay in and wishing her good night.

Having discovered her surroundings, she turned to study herself. Her clothing she recognized not, which troubled her greatly. Other than that she seemed to be intact. One shaking pale hand she raised to her face, gently touching her cheek and gladdened by its coolness after days of anguishing fever. Then she moved her hand out away from her face. She studied it, surprised by its very white color, deathlike almost in appearance. It hardly seemed to be her hand at all, but for the ring she wore. Her mother's ring. There was no mistaking it.

She heard a noise at the door but couldn't move to look. By the soft but sure tread of feet she could tell who her visitor was. For the first time in days she managed to whisper, "I feel much better to-day."

"I'm glad." As she had expected, Draug entered her line of vision. At first she thought he would come sit by her on the bed, but at the last moment he pulled up a chair, keeping respectful distance from her.

"How long have I... been here? Been sick?" she asked as she attempted to push herself up into a seated position. Doing so made her head swim slightly, but when she blinked a few times the world stopped spinning a little.

"Waen," in a flash Draug was at her side, halting her progress and gently forcing her back down onto the bed, "don't push yourself."

"I want to sit up," she protested, trying to push him off. As yet she was far too weak to push even a Halfling babe off of herself, but she struggled meekly against the nearly full-grown Elf anyway. Agarwaenloth had never been one to accept defeat easily. Even as he held her firmly down, she tugged softly at his arms, trying to break his grasp. Now she realized that he was indeed very strong, and half-wondered if she could have pushed him off even in good health.

The feeling that he could crush her at will became overwhelming and her struggle ceased. Only then did Draug relax and slowly pull her up to sitting. As carefully as possible he leaned her back against the bed's headboard, then removed himself from her to go back to his chair. Her hand clasped his arm weakly and stayed him a moment. It was clear that she wasn't letting go, so he knelt down beside the bed before prying her hand off him. He seemed to remember her earlier question as he said, "You've been here a month now. We sent word home for you that you had arrived and were being cared for."

Agarwaenloth nodded slowly, studying his face as he studied his hands where they rested folded together on the bed near her own. Slowly she gathered her thoughts and put them to words, which fell from her lips hesitatingly. "You're probably wondering... why I'm here." Draug nodded slowly as she continued, "It's a very long story. I'm afraid... I'm afraid I don't quite know... where to start. You see..."

"Waen, don't push yourself. You're not fully-" he stopped short as she picked up her hand and pressed her index finger against his lips. Confused but silent, he watched her questioningly until she removed her finger and spoke again.

"Draug, I saw the ghost of Boromir."

"You're delirious. You probably were then, too."

"No, I saw him! His spirit, his specter, I know I did!"

"Don't get so worked up," he rested his hand a moment on hers, with satisfactory calming effects, "So, you think you saw Boromir's ghost? Why didn't you go straight to Faramir?"

"I had to see Pippin."

"That doesn't make any sense, you know."

"It makes worlds of sense!"

He chided softly, "Waen, Waen..." taking her hand again in his own and pressing it gently to soothe her, "Be still, Darkwind. You can explain it to me."

A baritone now rang through the room, asking, "Who're you talking to, Draug? Is she awake?"

As the young prince cringed, dropping her hand and looking away from her, Waen turned herself ever so slightly to face the door. Framed in it was the formidable figure she had once called the High Prince. Now, she could see, he was the High King. With a slightly twisted look in his eye, Aglareb entered the room.

(( Eww, not -him- again! Didn't I kill him? No? -- well, I should have! Yes, that's right, the annoyingest son of Aragorn and Arwen is still here, and that means life will now be miserable for Agarwaenloth, just like it is for Draug. Poor kiddies... Not really much else to say. R&R, SVP!! ))