Chapter 23

The grey trees on the banks had thinned and disappeared, and now only desolation surrounded them; the Brown Lands were a blasted waste, empty of anything, stretching out to the east. To the west there were patches of grassy plain, and forests of great reeds, but no trees. They saw no living thing except the birds. Rhian was slowly learning to row- the boat wobbled back and forth, and zigzagged across the water as much as the current would allow, but at least it did not overturn. But most of the time Erin guided them, claiming that Rhian's 'bobbing about' made her sick- really she simply enjoyed it. Rhian, instead, lay back in the prow, staring sky-ward, and played the harp of Lorien. The sound of it helped to lift away the darkness that seemed to hover over them, following them since they left the Golden Queen's domain. Once, as she was drifting in her thoughts, Rhian heard a great rush of wings above them and sat up with a cry- "Look!" It was a great phalanx of swans rushing across the sky; and they were black. "'I looked in my heart while the wild swans went over,'" Rhian whispered. "'And what did I see I had not seen before? Only a question less or a question more; Nothing to match the flight of wild birds flying.'"* She leaned back against prow again. "This country goes on forever," she side. "On forever, and all empty."

"Not empty," Erin said. "It's got us in it, after all."

Rhian smiled.

It did have them in it, and any who wished might see them there. This knowledge, that they were exposed and shelterless in their small boats, surrounded by this empty land, grew on the minds of the company. Even the hobbits were uncomfortably aware of their insecurity, and the men- and Rhian and Erin- were on edge. They spoke in whispers and made little noise, hastening forward. Soon the river became wider and more shallow, and there were often long, stony beaches on either side. The land about them was still bare, brown and empty. The members of the company now spoke not at all, and were occupied by their own thoughts. Rhian, looking from one face to the next, saw Boromir muttering under his breath. She stared at him in surprise, for she had never seen him look so restless and agitated, even when he balked at entering Lothlorien. Merry and Pippin, in the boat before him, looked nervous as his paddling drove them near Aragorn's boat, then fell back only to go forward swiftly again. Boromir looked up suddenly and met her eyes, and she shifted uncomfortably at the strange gleam in his piercing gaze. He seemed to decide something, and looked away.

Erin had given up, and let her mind wander to Legolas. Because of the arrangement of the boats, she did not see him at all except for when they were camped, and then she was too tired to be tortured by watching him watch Aria. When she rose she was usually still tired, and did not remember her dreams, although she knew he was in them. But during the day she could not stop the scene Galadriel had shown her from replaying constantly in her mind, and her heart ached with it. You are being pathetic, she told herself. You're acting like a character from one of those soppy romance novels. But she couldn't stop her thoughts from spiraling down into self-pity and despair. So she focused herself on the oars instead, throwing her concentration into the smooth, steady motion. Sometimes she took her eyes from the water to study her sister, who sat lost inside herself. The shadow that covered them somehow seemed to rest harder on Rhian than on Erin, and it puzzled her; during one of their nights in Lorien, when they had slept out on the grass, Rhian has said that she felt as though there was something pulling at her, something she was supposed to do, or remember, but she didn't know what. The peace of the Golden Wood had calmed the restlessness, and before that her wound had limited her, but now, trapped beneath the endless sky, her sister seemed almost unable to bear it.

As dusk drew down on the fourth day, Rhian found herself looking impatiently from one bank to the next, her eyes flickering over the boats behind them, turning to look at Aragorn's boat before them, as though it might have disappeared. Some presence nagged at her apart from the plaguing restlessness, but she could not find its source. As she looked back once more to the way they had come, her glance met Boromir's, and she shied away from his gaze, looking out over the water. Something caught her sight, and she tensed, her brows drawing together and she tried harder to see whatever it was, but even as she looked it seemed to disappear. Rhian sat back with a frown, puzzled, her mind gnawing at that half-seen...whatever it was.

That night they camped on a tiny island near the bank. As the long day had dragged on, Rhian let the sound of the water and the gentle movement of the boat lull her to sleep- she had taken the last watch the night before, and weariness at last overcame the tense itching in her shoulders. But she had slept with her legs bent up beneath her, and when Rhian tried to get out of the boat after Erin, she fell back with a wince. Her stiff legs would not hold her weight, and when she tried to straighten them pain shot up her thighs. She bit back a harsh moan and gripped the sides of the boat, muttering curses directed at her traitorous legs, and began trying to leverage herself up, hoping she wouldn't pitch herself into the water. She had only managed a few inches off the wooden seat when strong arms scooped her up into the air. Rhian, twisting her head around in alarm, found herself nose to nose with Boromir. He didn't meet her eyes, but took his foot out of the water and carried her to Erin.

Her sister had gone to the aid of little Samwise- who insisted on carrying both his pack and Frodo's as he climbed from the boat, and nearly drowned himself as a result- but she turned back with a cry of dismay when she saw Rhian in Boromir's arms. The warrior of Gondor said nothing, only set Rhian down upon the sparse turf and began unlacing her boots while Rhian was distracted with calming her sister. "I'm fine. I just made the mistake of sitting on my legs all day and I'm sti- ow!" she yelped as Boromir rubbed at her stocking foot. "That hurts."

"It's your own fault," Pippin quipped, "if we can't trust you to sit properly I don't know what we're- eep!" He dodged Rhian's hand as she swiped at him.

"You hush, Mr. Took, or I shall sit on you- ow!"

Erin, where she sat at Rhian's shoulder, was not distracted by the hobbit's play. She was watching Boromir, thinking it passing strange that a man of this place and time should make free with her sister's boots.

Eight days they had been upon the water, and Rhian felt each one keenly. She filled the long silences with fighting to remember all of the longest poetry she knew, monologues she had memorized; she remembered more than she would have expected, but even so it seemed to her that her memories of that former world were fading behind a misty veil, even as the pages of The Lord of the Rings were blank. Sometimes she played softly on the harp of Lorien, but she did not sing. It did not feel right, to break the heavy silence. The thin crescent of the moon had fallen early into the pale sunset, but the sky was clear above, and though far away in the South there were great ranges of cloud that still shone faintly, in the West stars glinted bright.

"Come!" said Aragorn. "We will venture one more journey by night. We are coming to the reaches of the River that I do not know well; for I have never journeyed by water in these parts before, not between here and the rapids of Sarn Gebir."

Sam was set as watchman in the foremost boat, and those not trusted with oars lay down and slept.

The night was dark, the stars bright and strangely sharp overhead as they drifted. Suddenly Sam's shout roused them all, as a dark shape loomed before him in the water, now white with froth and moving far to swiftly for comfort. The current swept them out and around, and they could see by the stars the river foaming against sharp, teeth-like rocks. Thud! Erin's boat collided with Aragorn's before them, even as Boromir was shoved into them from behind. The boats were now huddled close together, as they drove their paddles in and sought to hold the boats.

"Aragorn!" Boromir shouted over the roaring water. "This is madness! We cannot dare the rapids by night!" Erin missed Aragorn's reply as she fought with the river, shoving the small boat back from the rocks. They battled fiercely against the current, making for the shore. Boromir was shouting again, but Erin was distracted by the grating of the keel against stone. Rhian flinched, gripping the sides of the boat until her fingers were white. She looked out in to the darkness around them, feeling a cold fear. "Erin..." she said softly, "I think-" Aria screamed, and Rhian swung around in time to see Sam push her down between the packs- a black arrow was stuck in the links of Frodo's mithril coat.

"Yrch!" Legolas shouted, falling in to his own tongue.

The whistling shafts were all about them now, two of them striking the sisters' boat with a sickening cthunk and lodging fast in the pale wood.

"Erin, get down!" Rhian shouted, fumbling for her bow, but her sister shook her head.

"You can't row! We must get off the water!" More arrows hissed in to the water about them, but no more struck as they fought their way off the stone shoal and back up the river, turning to the western shore, thrusting forward with all their strength. As they struck the bank, sheltered beneath the overhanging brush, Legolas leapt from his boat, rapidly stringing his bow- Rhian moved at his heels, her bow already strung with an arrow at the ready.

Erin, beneath them, watched as the two archers searched the darkness for targets. The two figures were dark, crowned from behind by the stars. Only the stars were being blotted out by a rising darkness, and Erin shrank back in the boat as a terrible coldness spread over her. Foreboding filled her heart as a black cheer went up from their enemies. She heard a harsh gasp behind her and turned to see Frodo crouched in the bottom of his boat, one hand pressed hard against his shoulder.

"Elbereth Gilthoniel," Rhian heard Legolas whisper. The black shape grew larger and nearer, and seemed to Rhian like a great dark bird. She shuddered, but drew her bow as Legolas did, fighting to keep her hands steady. The bow of Lorien sang out, but Rhian held back, waiting- but there was no need. A hideous cry echoed from above, and the black shape swerved away, leaving the sky clear. "Oh, well met, son of Mirkwood," she whispered. Across the river they heard cries of dismay and fear, and there were no more arrows that night.

They pressed upstream along the bank until they came to a small bay, where they made ready to await the dawn- they would get no farther in the darkness, but they did not make camp or a light a fire, but stayed in the boats, moored close together. As they settled for sleep, Aria stepped into Erin's boat and leaned across the water to catch Legolas' hand. "That was a wonderful shot, Legolas," she whispered, and squeeze his hand gently in thanks. The elf prince started, but recovered quickly, giving the hobbit girl a warm smile before she turned back, stepping over Rhian's legs carefully, and taking Frodo's hands as he helped her into their boat. Legolas sighed faintly, but despair did not consume him as it once might have, and a second light touch on his arm distracted him. Erin said nothing, only pressed lightly before taking her hand away, but the elf was quick and caught it. He held her fingers tightly for a moment, looking at her eyes. Then he nodded, smiling at her as he let go, and Erin lay down in the boat, feeling suddenly warm and peaceful. She slept well and free of dreams that pained her.

A/N: Aw, wasn't that nice? Wasn't it? Oh yes, I thought so too. I'm very very sorry this took so long, Kaytlyn (you're the only person still reading this, of course, so I write it purely for you pleasure. Don't you feel special?). It got horribly stuck halfway through the chapter, and I had to kick my way through it. The Rhian/Boromir scene didn't convey half of what I wanted it to, but then the Legolas/Erin thing happened, and that was totally unexpected and I like it, so all it good and evens out in the cosmos and things. Hurrah. Now I want to hurry up and send everyone off on their seperate ways, because I have got Cool Stuff coming. And we need to get all caught up with Jonathan and everybody, don't we? Weee-heee!

*from Wild Swans, by Edna St. Vincent Millay- the full poem is;

I looked in my heart while the wild swans went over.

And what did I see I had not seen before?

Only a question less or a question more;

Nothing to match the flight of wild birds flying.

Tiresome heart, forever living and dying,

House without air, I leave you and lock your door.

Wild swans, come over the town, come over

The town again, trailing your legs and crying! (note: if there is currently a copyright on this poem, I don't know about it, so don't sue me because I have no money)