Disclaimer: the ONLY thing I own is Jacqueline, anything you don't
recognize from the books and a little of the plot but not all. Majority of
the plotline, most lines(which are usually adaptations from the original
book) and all LOTR characters belong to Tolkien. Some character lines are
switched(i.e. one thing Aragorn says in the books Legolas might say here) -
still belongs to Tolkien.
A/N: Damn, you guys are really getting to me. Some of you want Legolas romance, and some want Boromir romance, and in all honesty it's harder to make up my mind!!! I'm still unclear as to who she should go with, so I'm proposing this: how about I do two different endings, one as a Legolas romance and one as a Boromir romance? Would that settle everything(plz say yes!)? BTW, you find out who kissed Jacqueline here. Be WARNED: THE KISS SCENE IS NOT A PREMONITION AS TO WHO SHE'LL END UP WITH!
Chapter 15 - Riders
Jacqueline woke up from a dreamless sleep. Legolas was rousing up Gimli and Aragorn; Boromir was already up. The morning was red, foreboding of strange things ahead. She thought back to last night and the last words he had said to her: "Now it is your turn to trust me." She wondered its meaning. It probably would have been easier to decipher had he not kissed her before that. It was hard enough trying to figure out what she was and where her roots lay, nevermind this.
On one hand she cared for Legolas, the ethereal one she had trusted and confided in when her darkest memories proved to be too much, and the first one to approach her when she had gone from a lost mortal woman to a half- elven warrior seeking to find herself while on a perlious journey. He had been there watching her every move, catching her when she fell and always being the first(and until the Amon Hen the only) one to watch out for her. Besides aiding in the destruction of the One Ring, he had also made it subtly clear that he was also there for her.
On the other hand she cared for Boromir, the brave mortal warrior she couldn't leave to Fate. Since Amon Hen he began letting his pride go, revealing a compassion towards her and authentic love and concern for his friends. He had been the one who supported her after she was struck by the arrow, and had been the last to leave her when they had heard the splashing on the beach. She looked down at her right arm; the cloth he had ripped from his own clothing was still there. It reminded her how he would keep up with her the best he could, because when she got any sort of sleep or nourishment only Legolas could easily keep up with her.
They were off as soon as everyone was awakened, and reached the green downs close to noon, with its ridges lined up towards the north. The ground was dry, but it led into reeds and rushes about ten miles in width, standing between them and the nearest river. West there lay a ring scarred into the ground from violent feet, and a north trail leading from it. Aragorn looked it over with a heavy heart.
"They did rest, but Legolas spoke true; this trail is old," he said examining it. Boromir came up behind him.
"How far is it from here to Fangorn?" he asked.
Aragorn thought a moment. "Eight leagues, maybe more. What are you guessing?"
"I am guessing that if they kept to their speed, most likely they have reached its borders," he answered.
"Then let us continue," Gimli stepped in. "I must forget the distances."
They moved on again, slowing as the day drew to its close. Weariness and loss of hope showed on them except for the elf and the half-elf, who were able to benefit most fromthe elvish waybread. Legolas could rest his mind while travelling as was the way of his people, and Jacqueline found that she could effortlessly shrug off the need for sleep when she had to.
Legolas urged them up a bare hill, and all but Jacqueline gazed on mournfully. The forest was still a good day or two away, and they were alone in the land.
"There is nothing we can see that will help us; we must stop yet again." Gimli stated shivering.
"Then rest of you must, but do not lose hope. Tomorrow is a new day." replied Legolas.
"Three days have come and gone, yet have brought us nothing new to use," Gimli snorted.
"The fourth will," Jacqueline answered drowsily from the ground.
The rest of them joined her. Gimli and Aragorn slept uneasily in the cold night, Boromir not so much as his two friends. Jacqueline slept without stirring while it did not appear that Legolas slept at all, for whenever anyone(except Jacqueline) woke in the middle of the night they either saw him pacing about or standing sentinal. Soon dawn set on them, and they all watched the sun come up. The land was bleak and bare; eastward lay the Wold of Rohan, and northwest lay Fangorn where the Entwash came out to greet them. The orc-trail ran alongside it. Something else caught Aragorn's eye, and he dropped back to the ground to listen. Both Jacqueline and Legolas, however, could see what it was and Jacqueline could also see who exactly it was.
Many horsemen they saw, riding with the wind. Dark curling smoke rose into the sky far behind them.
"Riders are coming towards us, with great speed!" Aragorn exclaimed leaping up.
"One hundred and five riders," Legolas said, improving on his statement. "Golden hair, bright spears, their leader is tall."
"Elven eyes are sharp indeed," Aragorn smiled.
"They are only five leagues away," Legolas replied.
"Regardless there is nowhere to hide," Gimli said. "Do we go on or wait?"
"Wait," Aragorn answered. "They head back up the orc-trail; we may learn something."
"There are three spare horses but no hobbits," Legolas pointed out.
"I didn't say it would be good news that they would bring," Aragorn countered. "Regardless we will hear it."
They walked down the hill slowly, stopping at the foot and huddling together against the cold.
"Boromir? Aragorn?" Gimli asked unnervedly. "What do you know of the approaching company?"
"I've been with them before, very willing and proud men," Aragorn answered.
"And they are also true-hearted, generous and bold, wise though being unlearned," Boromir added. "Singing songs about what they know rather than writing about them."
"But where they now stand in these dark times is uncertain, whether they are aware of Saruman's traitorous ways and what mindframe they may be in about Sauron's threat. They have been close but not kin to Gondor, for their kinship lies with the tall and fair men of the Beornings of the Wood and the Bardings of Dale." Aragorn explained.
"What about the rumour Gandalf spoke of, that they served Mordor?" Gimli questioned.
"Lies," Boromir said flatly. "Nothing more than that."
"We shall soon learn either way," Legolas remarked. "They come now."
They came in pairs following the trail. Proud grey horses they rode, their manes braided and tails flying wildly in the wind. The riders also were proud like their steeds, their golden hair braided as well. Their mailshirts shone in the morning sun, their ash grey spears ready in their hands, shields strapped to their backs, swords slung on their hips. Every now and again one of them would look around the group but did not see the five huddled at the bottom of the hill. Just as the Riders had nearly gone, Aragorn spoke up.
"Riders of Rohan, what news do you bring?"
Without word or command they turned, and within seconds encircled the companions with spears and bows, which none of them had spotted before, aimed and ready. None of the companions flinched, not even when the tallest rode forward, stopping only when his spear came inches to Aragorn's heart.
"Who are you and what business brings you here?" he asked.
"My name is Strider," Aragorn replied. "We have come out of the North hunting Orcs."
The man got off his horse, tossing his spear to another rider and drawing his sword. He walked to Aragorn and stood face to face with him, assessing him.
"At first I deemed you to be orcs, but clearly you are not," the man said. "However you know little of the foul creatures if you hunt them in such a manner. They would quickly overtake you when you found them. Yet your name is a strange one even for a man, and even stranger is how you travel. Are you all elvish folk, or of some other magic that enabled you to be shielded from our eyesight?"
"Only two of us are elves," Aragorn answered. "Legolas, from the Woodland Realm of Mirkwood and Jacqueline, a half-elven child of Lothlorien from where we have just come from. The Lady's blessing goes with us."
"So there is a Lady in the Golden Wood after all," the Rider exclaimed with hard eyes. "Few escape her, and you must be mages of sorts if you not only have passed through her realm but go with her favours," he looked over at Jacqueline. "Or else just seduced the half-bred daughter of the Lady who could only be the product of a helpless victim."
Fire blazed in her eyes, but Jacqueline kept her calm and slowly got up, walking over to where Aragorn and the Rider stood. She held the Rider's gaze as she spoke.
"You would be wise to hold your tongue, Third Marshall of the Riddermark, when you are confronted by matters which you have no knowledge of. One tends to look the part of a fool when they speak based on assumptions."
"You dare call me a fool, Lady?" the Rider hissed, moving his blade to her throat.
She smiled, impishly. "No, for I know you are anything but a fool. But if you were to retain that type of conversation you could easily become one." The other riders stirred in anger, but she did not take notice. "My mother is not the Lady Galadriel as you so inaccurately guessed, but rather her daughter Celebrian, her only daughter; my father was an istari though not Gandalf or Saruman as you are probably guessing. Whether that means my father's powers flow in me is still unclear, but regardless I am not you enemy nor will I be treated as one; me or my companions."
The Rider drew back, his sword moving down slowly from her throat. He and the rest of his company were astounded by the wisdom and authority in her voice. The strangers certainly were telling truth, for no kindred except elvish kindred spoke with such mannerism. Boromir and Gimli, who were still seated, were in shock of Jacqueline's boldness; they still could not wrap their minds around the fact that she was of Middle-earth, though she came(and believed until Lothlorien that she descended) from another time. Legolas and Aragorn looked on with pride and relief, knowing that she was finally beginning to piece herself together and find her place here.
However the astoundment didn't last long, and soon the Rider's nature had returned. He sought to win the game she was playing with him.
"Tell me, do your other friends allow you to speak for them as well?"
The comment rolled off Jacqueline, but brought her dwarf friend quickly to anger. Gimli stood up to join her. "Only when necessary. But you have eliminated that necessity, and forced me to speak up. Merely let me hear your name Third Marshall, and you shall hear mine."
The Rider looked down at him with slight disproval. "Very well dwarf. I am Eomer son of Eomund."
"Well then, Eomer son of Eomund, I Gimli son of the Dwarf Gloin should warn you against speaking evilly to and about my companions who you do not know."
His words angered the horsemen and they closed the circle even more.
"I could cut your bearded head off if it were not so low to the ground," Eomer said, throwing an age-old insult at the dwarf.
"Neither he or my other companions stand alone, and what the dwarf lacks in height I make up," Legolas warned, arrow fitted to his bowstring. "You would fall before your sword did."
This pushed Eomer's anger further, and was about to test Legolas' words when Aragorn and Jacqueline came between the two.
"Pardon, Eomer. First hear our tales so that you may understand why my companions greet you with anger," Aragorn said. "We mean no harm to you or your people."
"What need have I for tales when this lady has insulted me in my own land and this elf threatens my life?" Eomer demanded, staring into Aragorn's neutral eyes.
"Because I have insulted no one, nor have I played any games with you Eomer," Jacqueline answered. "I know much about your people and your desire for knowledge and tales, and I know things that are coming your way in the days ahead. Correcting you on my history was merely my way of getting acquainted, since I was already quite familiar with you. I can assure you that things will become all the more clear when our tale is heard."
Eomer gazed at her a moment, taken by this wave of council that came from her. He sighed, deciding after a few moments to take their advice.
"Very well," Eomer agreed, lowering his sword completely. "But you and your companions would benefit to know that such behaviours in wanderers who come through the Riddermark is not lightly looked upon in these times. Tell me your right name, Strider."
"Tell me who you serve," Aragorn countered.
Eomer slightly hesitated. "I serve only King Theoden, Lord of the Mark and son of Thengel. We do not serve Sauron nor are we at war with him, so you had best leave if he chases you. There is trouble all around us threatening our way of life when all we desire is to remain free. Once we welcomed guests, but in such times we are wary of all who pass through. Now tell me, who do you serve Strider?"
"No one," Aragorn answered. "But I follow those who obey Sauron to whatever lands they go to. Hunting Orcs on foot was not my choice; but where one has no horse one goes on foot. Two of my friends were taken by these Orcs and I will not leave the trail which we follow, nor will I count their numbers with anything save my sword." Back went his cloak, revealing the glittering sheath that held Anduril. "My name is Aragorn son of Arathorn, called Elessar, the Elfstone, heir of Elendil's son Isildur of Gondor, Dunadan. This Sword was Broken and is now reforged so I may use it in my times of need. Will you help or hinder me?"
Boromir and Gimli continued to stand by in awe; neither had anticipated Jacqueline and Aragorn to become what they were now. Aragorn was beginning to accept his fate and duty as future king, and Jacqueline was much like her grandmother; one who harboured great power and knowledge, yet great wisdom and humility. Even Legolas, who had been held back by Jacqueline when he challenged Eomer, was shocked by their actions. The previous night revealed Aragorn to be beaten down yet hopeful, and Jacqueline was in slight fear that the whole story may change as she intervened to the point where she could prove powerless. He had hoped that his words and kiss would settle her, and from her present state it must have helped somewhat. He looked around at the riders and Eomer, who had stepped back as if repelled.
"Certainly these are strange times when images of the mind and tales of legend come alive up out of the grass. But tell me what news follows you here. Many long days have passed since Boromir of Gondor borrowed a horse from us and the steed came back without him. What tragic tales do you carry with you?"
"That destruction comes," Boromir answered, standing up and into the conversation. Even after so many things had been revealed, Eomer still managed to be surprised.
"So you are alive," he marvelled. "When your horse came back we feared you dead. Your father has been distressed ever since."
"I would have been dead, had it not been for the wisdom and care of a friend," Boromir replied, glancing over at Jacqueline. Her eyes smiled back at him. "Though that is all the good news we bear. When you go back to Thengel's son Theoden, tell him that war comes be it with or against Sauron. Few will be able tp keep what is theirs, and many ways of life shall be changed as a result. Let us speak of such things later, and if it be permissible we will go to the King himself with our tidings. But right now we are in need of help or news. What do you know of the Orcs we chase?"
"That you may end your chase friends," replied Eomer. "The Orcs are dead."
A/N: Damn, you guys are really getting to me. Some of you want Legolas romance, and some want Boromir romance, and in all honesty it's harder to make up my mind!!! I'm still unclear as to who she should go with, so I'm proposing this: how about I do two different endings, one as a Legolas romance and one as a Boromir romance? Would that settle everything(plz say yes!)? BTW, you find out who kissed Jacqueline here. Be WARNED: THE KISS SCENE IS NOT A PREMONITION AS TO WHO SHE'LL END UP WITH!
Chapter 15 - Riders
Jacqueline woke up from a dreamless sleep. Legolas was rousing up Gimli and Aragorn; Boromir was already up. The morning was red, foreboding of strange things ahead. She thought back to last night and the last words he had said to her: "Now it is your turn to trust me." She wondered its meaning. It probably would have been easier to decipher had he not kissed her before that. It was hard enough trying to figure out what she was and where her roots lay, nevermind this.
On one hand she cared for Legolas, the ethereal one she had trusted and confided in when her darkest memories proved to be too much, and the first one to approach her when she had gone from a lost mortal woman to a half- elven warrior seeking to find herself while on a perlious journey. He had been there watching her every move, catching her when she fell and always being the first(and until the Amon Hen the only) one to watch out for her. Besides aiding in the destruction of the One Ring, he had also made it subtly clear that he was also there for her.
On the other hand she cared for Boromir, the brave mortal warrior she couldn't leave to Fate. Since Amon Hen he began letting his pride go, revealing a compassion towards her and authentic love and concern for his friends. He had been the one who supported her after she was struck by the arrow, and had been the last to leave her when they had heard the splashing on the beach. She looked down at her right arm; the cloth he had ripped from his own clothing was still there. It reminded her how he would keep up with her the best he could, because when she got any sort of sleep or nourishment only Legolas could easily keep up with her.
They were off as soon as everyone was awakened, and reached the green downs close to noon, with its ridges lined up towards the north. The ground was dry, but it led into reeds and rushes about ten miles in width, standing between them and the nearest river. West there lay a ring scarred into the ground from violent feet, and a north trail leading from it. Aragorn looked it over with a heavy heart.
"They did rest, but Legolas spoke true; this trail is old," he said examining it. Boromir came up behind him.
"How far is it from here to Fangorn?" he asked.
Aragorn thought a moment. "Eight leagues, maybe more. What are you guessing?"
"I am guessing that if they kept to their speed, most likely they have reached its borders," he answered.
"Then let us continue," Gimli stepped in. "I must forget the distances."
They moved on again, slowing as the day drew to its close. Weariness and loss of hope showed on them except for the elf and the half-elf, who were able to benefit most fromthe elvish waybread. Legolas could rest his mind while travelling as was the way of his people, and Jacqueline found that she could effortlessly shrug off the need for sleep when she had to.
Legolas urged them up a bare hill, and all but Jacqueline gazed on mournfully. The forest was still a good day or two away, and they were alone in the land.
"There is nothing we can see that will help us; we must stop yet again." Gimli stated shivering.
"Then rest of you must, but do not lose hope. Tomorrow is a new day." replied Legolas.
"Three days have come and gone, yet have brought us nothing new to use," Gimli snorted.
"The fourth will," Jacqueline answered drowsily from the ground.
The rest of them joined her. Gimli and Aragorn slept uneasily in the cold night, Boromir not so much as his two friends. Jacqueline slept without stirring while it did not appear that Legolas slept at all, for whenever anyone(except Jacqueline) woke in the middle of the night they either saw him pacing about or standing sentinal. Soon dawn set on them, and they all watched the sun come up. The land was bleak and bare; eastward lay the Wold of Rohan, and northwest lay Fangorn where the Entwash came out to greet them. The orc-trail ran alongside it. Something else caught Aragorn's eye, and he dropped back to the ground to listen. Both Jacqueline and Legolas, however, could see what it was and Jacqueline could also see who exactly it was.
Many horsemen they saw, riding with the wind. Dark curling smoke rose into the sky far behind them.
"Riders are coming towards us, with great speed!" Aragorn exclaimed leaping up.
"One hundred and five riders," Legolas said, improving on his statement. "Golden hair, bright spears, their leader is tall."
"Elven eyes are sharp indeed," Aragorn smiled.
"They are only five leagues away," Legolas replied.
"Regardless there is nowhere to hide," Gimli said. "Do we go on or wait?"
"Wait," Aragorn answered. "They head back up the orc-trail; we may learn something."
"There are three spare horses but no hobbits," Legolas pointed out.
"I didn't say it would be good news that they would bring," Aragorn countered. "Regardless we will hear it."
They walked down the hill slowly, stopping at the foot and huddling together against the cold.
"Boromir? Aragorn?" Gimli asked unnervedly. "What do you know of the approaching company?"
"I've been with them before, very willing and proud men," Aragorn answered.
"And they are also true-hearted, generous and bold, wise though being unlearned," Boromir added. "Singing songs about what they know rather than writing about them."
"But where they now stand in these dark times is uncertain, whether they are aware of Saruman's traitorous ways and what mindframe they may be in about Sauron's threat. They have been close but not kin to Gondor, for their kinship lies with the tall and fair men of the Beornings of the Wood and the Bardings of Dale." Aragorn explained.
"What about the rumour Gandalf spoke of, that they served Mordor?" Gimli questioned.
"Lies," Boromir said flatly. "Nothing more than that."
"We shall soon learn either way," Legolas remarked. "They come now."
They came in pairs following the trail. Proud grey horses they rode, their manes braided and tails flying wildly in the wind. The riders also were proud like their steeds, their golden hair braided as well. Their mailshirts shone in the morning sun, their ash grey spears ready in their hands, shields strapped to their backs, swords slung on their hips. Every now and again one of them would look around the group but did not see the five huddled at the bottom of the hill. Just as the Riders had nearly gone, Aragorn spoke up.
"Riders of Rohan, what news do you bring?"
Without word or command they turned, and within seconds encircled the companions with spears and bows, which none of them had spotted before, aimed and ready. None of the companions flinched, not even when the tallest rode forward, stopping only when his spear came inches to Aragorn's heart.
"Who are you and what business brings you here?" he asked.
"My name is Strider," Aragorn replied. "We have come out of the North hunting Orcs."
The man got off his horse, tossing his spear to another rider and drawing his sword. He walked to Aragorn and stood face to face with him, assessing him.
"At first I deemed you to be orcs, but clearly you are not," the man said. "However you know little of the foul creatures if you hunt them in such a manner. They would quickly overtake you when you found them. Yet your name is a strange one even for a man, and even stranger is how you travel. Are you all elvish folk, or of some other magic that enabled you to be shielded from our eyesight?"
"Only two of us are elves," Aragorn answered. "Legolas, from the Woodland Realm of Mirkwood and Jacqueline, a half-elven child of Lothlorien from where we have just come from. The Lady's blessing goes with us."
"So there is a Lady in the Golden Wood after all," the Rider exclaimed with hard eyes. "Few escape her, and you must be mages of sorts if you not only have passed through her realm but go with her favours," he looked over at Jacqueline. "Or else just seduced the half-bred daughter of the Lady who could only be the product of a helpless victim."
Fire blazed in her eyes, but Jacqueline kept her calm and slowly got up, walking over to where Aragorn and the Rider stood. She held the Rider's gaze as she spoke.
"You would be wise to hold your tongue, Third Marshall of the Riddermark, when you are confronted by matters which you have no knowledge of. One tends to look the part of a fool when they speak based on assumptions."
"You dare call me a fool, Lady?" the Rider hissed, moving his blade to her throat.
She smiled, impishly. "No, for I know you are anything but a fool. But if you were to retain that type of conversation you could easily become one." The other riders stirred in anger, but she did not take notice. "My mother is not the Lady Galadriel as you so inaccurately guessed, but rather her daughter Celebrian, her only daughter; my father was an istari though not Gandalf or Saruman as you are probably guessing. Whether that means my father's powers flow in me is still unclear, but regardless I am not you enemy nor will I be treated as one; me or my companions."
The Rider drew back, his sword moving down slowly from her throat. He and the rest of his company were astounded by the wisdom and authority in her voice. The strangers certainly were telling truth, for no kindred except elvish kindred spoke with such mannerism. Boromir and Gimli, who were still seated, were in shock of Jacqueline's boldness; they still could not wrap their minds around the fact that she was of Middle-earth, though she came(and believed until Lothlorien that she descended) from another time. Legolas and Aragorn looked on with pride and relief, knowing that she was finally beginning to piece herself together and find her place here.
However the astoundment didn't last long, and soon the Rider's nature had returned. He sought to win the game she was playing with him.
"Tell me, do your other friends allow you to speak for them as well?"
The comment rolled off Jacqueline, but brought her dwarf friend quickly to anger. Gimli stood up to join her. "Only when necessary. But you have eliminated that necessity, and forced me to speak up. Merely let me hear your name Third Marshall, and you shall hear mine."
The Rider looked down at him with slight disproval. "Very well dwarf. I am Eomer son of Eomund."
"Well then, Eomer son of Eomund, I Gimli son of the Dwarf Gloin should warn you against speaking evilly to and about my companions who you do not know."
His words angered the horsemen and they closed the circle even more.
"I could cut your bearded head off if it were not so low to the ground," Eomer said, throwing an age-old insult at the dwarf.
"Neither he or my other companions stand alone, and what the dwarf lacks in height I make up," Legolas warned, arrow fitted to his bowstring. "You would fall before your sword did."
This pushed Eomer's anger further, and was about to test Legolas' words when Aragorn and Jacqueline came between the two.
"Pardon, Eomer. First hear our tales so that you may understand why my companions greet you with anger," Aragorn said. "We mean no harm to you or your people."
"What need have I for tales when this lady has insulted me in my own land and this elf threatens my life?" Eomer demanded, staring into Aragorn's neutral eyes.
"Because I have insulted no one, nor have I played any games with you Eomer," Jacqueline answered. "I know much about your people and your desire for knowledge and tales, and I know things that are coming your way in the days ahead. Correcting you on my history was merely my way of getting acquainted, since I was already quite familiar with you. I can assure you that things will become all the more clear when our tale is heard."
Eomer gazed at her a moment, taken by this wave of council that came from her. He sighed, deciding after a few moments to take their advice.
"Very well," Eomer agreed, lowering his sword completely. "But you and your companions would benefit to know that such behaviours in wanderers who come through the Riddermark is not lightly looked upon in these times. Tell me your right name, Strider."
"Tell me who you serve," Aragorn countered.
Eomer slightly hesitated. "I serve only King Theoden, Lord of the Mark and son of Thengel. We do not serve Sauron nor are we at war with him, so you had best leave if he chases you. There is trouble all around us threatening our way of life when all we desire is to remain free. Once we welcomed guests, but in such times we are wary of all who pass through. Now tell me, who do you serve Strider?"
"No one," Aragorn answered. "But I follow those who obey Sauron to whatever lands they go to. Hunting Orcs on foot was not my choice; but where one has no horse one goes on foot. Two of my friends were taken by these Orcs and I will not leave the trail which we follow, nor will I count their numbers with anything save my sword." Back went his cloak, revealing the glittering sheath that held Anduril. "My name is Aragorn son of Arathorn, called Elessar, the Elfstone, heir of Elendil's son Isildur of Gondor, Dunadan. This Sword was Broken and is now reforged so I may use it in my times of need. Will you help or hinder me?"
Boromir and Gimli continued to stand by in awe; neither had anticipated Jacqueline and Aragorn to become what they were now. Aragorn was beginning to accept his fate and duty as future king, and Jacqueline was much like her grandmother; one who harboured great power and knowledge, yet great wisdom and humility. Even Legolas, who had been held back by Jacqueline when he challenged Eomer, was shocked by their actions. The previous night revealed Aragorn to be beaten down yet hopeful, and Jacqueline was in slight fear that the whole story may change as she intervened to the point where she could prove powerless. He had hoped that his words and kiss would settle her, and from her present state it must have helped somewhat. He looked around at the riders and Eomer, who had stepped back as if repelled.
"Certainly these are strange times when images of the mind and tales of legend come alive up out of the grass. But tell me what news follows you here. Many long days have passed since Boromir of Gondor borrowed a horse from us and the steed came back without him. What tragic tales do you carry with you?"
"That destruction comes," Boromir answered, standing up and into the conversation. Even after so many things had been revealed, Eomer still managed to be surprised.
"So you are alive," he marvelled. "When your horse came back we feared you dead. Your father has been distressed ever since."
"I would have been dead, had it not been for the wisdom and care of a friend," Boromir replied, glancing over at Jacqueline. Her eyes smiled back at him. "Though that is all the good news we bear. When you go back to Thengel's son Theoden, tell him that war comes be it with or against Sauron. Few will be able tp keep what is theirs, and many ways of life shall be changed as a result. Let us speak of such things later, and if it be permissible we will go to the King himself with our tidings. But right now we are in need of help or news. What do you know of the Orcs we chase?"
"That you may end your chase friends," replied Eomer. "The Orcs are dead."
