A/N: And so I'm back . . . from outer space - no, just kidding. I'm glad
all thirteen of you enjoyed the past two chapters and evidence of more
appreciative fellow fic-cers would make me and Shaitan even more gladder. I
take this moment to point out that spelling and grammar in the Author's
Note are to go unheeded as most of you will probably just skim over this
anyway. Ack, almost forgot:
Disclaimer: My legions of evil penguins glare at me as I renounce all claim to J.R.R. Tolkien's great works in Lord Of The Rings. They share their resentments with me in the fact that Legolas is not my personal *coughs* . . . I'll stop there.
Let's Begin:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Title: A Place Of Her Own
Chapter: Encounters
Rating: Repeating myself is not one of my most favoured hobbies, you know.
Summary: Natalie wants to get away from it all. She hates the city life. She hates the way people look at her and her brother. She wants a place of her own.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She was feeling wet, clammy and extremely groggy from lack of sleep. Her arms ached from where her brother had used them as a pillow the previous night.
They had foraged for food on their way west and had drunk thirstily at any streams they had crossed. Nat had deliberated on following the streams earlier on but deemed it too difficult and dangerous. They did not know what dangers the plains held for them but surely these dangers would gather at the streams to drink at some point? Anyway, there was better shelter along the wide path which seemed clear and well-marked enough.
Nat now hated herself for making that decision but pride forced her on. They had been travelling for a week and no sign of a road or any other type of civilization had presented itself. The path was getting rougher too, and Nat wasn't sure that her brother could keep going.
Her jacket was ripped and hung loosely on her slight frame. Her jeans were muddy and the old runners she wore were beginning to lose their soles. Her brother's bag had held up well but signs of strain from the continuous weight had begun to show.
Her feet trudged along. She had no strength or energy to continue, but days of putting one foot in front of another, ignoring the pain that coursed up through her legs and the fierce sun beating down, had taken its toll. All she knew was to keep going, to hold her brother high on her back and move forwards to whatever lay ahead.
She looked up and ahead she saw a break in the road. A stone bridge spanned a mighty river that promised fresh water and a chance to rest. She stumbled into a run of sorts which jolted her brother awake.
"Nat?" he asked blearily.
"Shh, don't worry, I've found some water for us up ahead."
Her throat was parched and dry so her reply was rasped lightly. Her throat ached with each breath now that she was aware of the state of her body.
Staggering to the banks of the river she knelt and lifted Thomas out of his bag.
"Drink," she told him and he plunged his hands into the cool water, bringing it to his lips and sighing in relief.
After they had both quenched their thirst, Nat looked out across the river.
"Thom! What do you say to pitching camp over there?" she said, pointing. The sun was still high in the sky but she doubted she would find a better spot which would hide them from any passers-by.
Thom nodded amiably and wriggled back into his bag.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A few hours later the sun was setting and Nat had gotten a fire going. Her struggle for survival had taught her many things over the years. Fire had been the hardest over the last few days and the blisters on her hands from the last time she had tried to light a fire were bleeding heavily from rubbing the wood together. But she watched her work come to its fruition and stood proud by it.
She grinned ecstatically about her accomplishment - hot food tonight! She couldn't remember the last time they'd had something to warm themselves with except for each other.
Nodding to herself she looked around for Thom. But he was gone.
"Tom?" she called tentatively and then again, much more loudly "Tom?"
"Nat! Nat! There's fish in the river!" Thom yelled excitedly from the bank.
Nat sighed with relief.
"Come here, or you'll get a cold, I've got the fire ready," answered Nat gruffly, embarrassed that she'd not kept a proper eye on him. Still, she walked over to where her brother lay happily, dragging his hand in the water's currents which swirled around dragging debris downstream.
She watched for a bit, silently, as her brother tickled the underbellies of the fish in the water. She smiled contentedly; this was what life with her brother should be - free, blissful and without worry.
"How about some nice fish for dinner tonight, Thom?" she asked him jokingly.
Thom nodded and stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth, concentrating on the fish.
Nat giggled as she watched him try to provide their dinner, she opened her mouth to tell him to get a move on.
Nat stared as her brother flipped the fish expertly onto the ground beside him and grinned.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
His belly full, Thom had curled up to sleep beside Nat. He snored softly and snuggled closer every now and then.
His older sister seemed to be having a bit of trouble lying down and going to sleep though; she worried about the dangers of the woods behind her and if she and Thomas would ever find a suitable place to stop, rest and make themselves a home.
The adventure had been fun so far . . . a bit more difficult then she had expected but she had adapted, right? She could pull through, like she'd always done. Nothing could hold her back. And nothing would harm her brother. No danger would . . .
But it wasn't the dangers that kept her from sleep.
Those dreams haunted her. Every waking moment was plagued with her memories of them. Every time she laid her head down to rest the nightmares would consume her. Colours and symbols screamed at her as people of her past moaned in agony, their bodies twisted and maimed.
Natalie shuddered and closed her mind to it all.
They hammered at her, throbbing against her temples. She had to get away.
Softly, she pushed Thom off her lap and stood to greet the moon.
Its soft light played on her face as she took a step forward out of their sheltered cavelet.
Downstream, she heard whistling. Startled, she turned her head and saw a pinprick of light in the distance. She made to go towards it but turned back to the sleeping form of her brother.
'It won't take long, just a quick look,' she thought but she quickly pulled a few heavy branches over the entrance to the cave for safety and stamped out the remaining embers among the charcoal remnants of their fire.
Slowly, she crept towards the fire and counted only one man sitting hunched over what seemed to be his dinner. She moved towards the undergrowth to come closer.
Something under her foot cracked.
The man stood without a sound, a slither of metal betrayed his unsheathing of his sword.
He stood alert and on the balls of his feet, ready to attack anything that moved. His eyes glinted with the firelight and hardened as he tried to make out the gloom that surrounded him.
Turning his head, he checked all directions but, certain the sound had come from upstream, he remained facing towards Nat's direction.
She wanted to run, to hide and get away but she knew the slightest movement would have him attacking her without a second thought. She saw a hardened man, not unlike her father and for a minute she was afraid it was, but she assured herself that her father would never have bothered following her for a week.
She hoped he wasn't some sort of sex-maniac or mass-murderer, hiding out in the woods alone.
Grimacing, she called out.
"Sir?"
He held his sword a little higher.
"Come out where I can see you," he whispered into the air softly.
She walked out tentatively - keeping her eyes on the sword, waiting for it to lash out.
"A woman?" he asked incredulously, lowering his sword slightly but then drawing it up again and glancing anxiously about him.
Nat stood uncertainly before him and nodded slowly.
"What do you be doing then, out in the wilderness?" he asked cautiously. She noted that he hadn't put down his sword.
"I ran away," Nat replied stubbornly, but sensing his authority she added, "and I'm not going back."
"From where?" he asked her. The flickers of his campfire illuminated his face and glimmered on his sword but the rest was in shadow. His eyes were everywhere except on her, waiting for an attack from a different front.
"Why do you have a sword?" she asked him back, curious about his weapon, rather than avoiding his previous question.
He looked back and raised his eyebrows at her, putting his sword back into his sheath slowly.
"I doubt that you are a threat. Especially if you are so stubborn, naive and impolite," he chuckled to himself.
Nat glared at the man but he merely turned away from her sitting to pick up his bowl which had some evidence of a half-eaten stew.
"Sit down," he said.
She looked back to where her brother lay sleeping and sensed no disturbance. She gingerly took a seat next to the bearded man.
"Who are you?" she asked impatiently.
He finished chewing and swallowed slowly, taking his time to answer her.
"My name is Boromir, son of Denethor," he stopped suddenly and looked down at his plate. She tried to get a better look of his face but his lengthy, dark brown hair obscured his eyes. He had a neatly trimmed beard and a fairly prominent nose. He seemed to waiting for something from her.
Nat nodded to herself, he should be alright since he hasn't attacked her yet.
"I'm Natalie. But call me Nat, everyone else does."
Boromir seemed surprised by something but bent back down over his meal.
They sat in companionable silence as Boromir finished his stew off.
"You have not heard of me? Nor of my father?" Boromir asked finally, wiping his beard of any excess dinner.
"No . . . should I?"
He waved his hand at her, dismissing the topic.
"How long since you ran away?"
"A week, or so. The pigs wanted to take . . ." she trailed off, aware of the man's intent stare.
"Pigs?" he questioned her, eyes wide and surprised, "No, please continue."
When she didn't, Boromir tried again.
"Take . . . ?" he asked softly, urging her on and trying to capture her eyes in his to gain an answer.
She met his stare.
"I must get back to my own camp, I have stayed here too long," she got up abruptly and made her way out into the darkness.
Boromir shrugged and stamped out his fire. He picked up his cloak and untied his horse and led it up to where he guessed Nat had made her camp.
"I shall join you," he announced softly, "A woman should not stay out in the wilderness alone. These are troubled parts in troubled times; I would not want you to get hurt."
"I am not alone," whispered Nat furiously.
Nonetheless, Boromir tied his horse to a nearby tree and sat down next to the sleeping form of her brother.
Noticing Thom, he glanced up surprised.
"Your son?" he asked.
Nat gave him a withering frown.
"Your brother then . . . " he concluded.
She did not take her eyes off him.
"You can sleep," he gestured to a patch of grass, "I will keep watch tonight, you are weary."
"I will be fine," she sneered, sitting down where he had indicated.
"You are exhausted!" he hissed, "You mustn't push on like this!"
"Who are you tell me what to do?"
Boromir sighed and gazed at the stars above.
"I am simply concerned, lady," he said quietly.
Nat watched him for a while and sniffed loudly.
She yawned and her eyes drooped.
She struggled hard to keep them open but slid slowly to the ground next to Thomas. Her joints were getting stiff so she tried to stretch out her muscles slowly. Nat put her hands up to frame the stars above her and yawned slowly as the stars flickered at her. The moonlight bathed her face and she smiled as her brother next to her turned into her embrace.
"You can sleep, Boromir," she said generously, "I'll keep watch, it's ok."
Boromir continued to watch the woods.
"I'm . . . not sleepy. I can," she yawned again, "stay up . . . all . . ."
Boromir turned and smiled as Nat turned over and promptly fell asleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Whoa, that was long. I could have posted yesterday but I had a concert to swelter in. How can something be so prominent and not have air conditioning? Ah wells, hot spell's nearly over so there'll be storm soon. :D Yay!
Oh yes, and Shaitan told me to pass on to you that he wants more reviews, yeah, 13 is his number of the millennia but he prefers more for my sake. *smiles happily at Shaitan who scowls*
WHATEVER *CROSSES ARMS (?)*
He's soooo cute, sometimes!
Disclaimer: My legions of evil penguins glare at me as I renounce all claim to J.R.R. Tolkien's great works in Lord Of The Rings. They share their resentments with me in the fact that Legolas is not my personal *coughs* . . . I'll stop there.
Let's Begin:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Title: A Place Of Her Own
Chapter: Encounters
Rating: Repeating myself is not one of my most favoured hobbies, you know.
Summary: Natalie wants to get away from it all. She hates the city life. She hates the way people look at her and her brother. She wants a place of her own.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She was feeling wet, clammy and extremely groggy from lack of sleep. Her arms ached from where her brother had used them as a pillow the previous night.
They had foraged for food on their way west and had drunk thirstily at any streams they had crossed. Nat had deliberated on following the streams earlier on but deemed it too difficult and dangerous. They did not know what dangers the plains held for them but surely these dangers would gather at the streams to drink at some point? Anyway, there was better shelter along the wide path which seemed clear and well-marked enough.
Nat now hated herself for making that decision but pride forced her on. They had been travelling for a week and no sign of a road or any other type of civilization had presented itself. The path was getting rougher too, and Nat wasn't sure that her brother could keep going.
Her jacket was ripped and hung loosely on her slight frame. Her jeans were muddy and the old runners she wore were beginning to lose their soles. Her brother's bag had held up well but signs of strain from the continuous weight had begun to show.
Her feet trudged along. She had no strength or energy to continue, but days of putting one foot in front of another, ignoring the pain that coursed up through her legs and the fierce sun beating down, had taken its toll. All she knew was to keep going, to hold her brother high on her back and move forwards to whatever lay ahead.
She looked up and ahead she saw a break in the road. A stone bridge spanned a mighty river that promised fresh water and a chance to rest. She stumbled into a run of sorts which jolted her brother awake.
"Nat?" he asked blearily.
"Shh, don't worry, I've found some water for us up ahead."
Her throat was parched and dry so her reply was rasped lightly. Her throat ached with each breath now that she was aware of the state of her body.
Staggering to the banks of the river she knelt and lifted Thomas out of his bag.
"Drink," she told him and he plunged his hands into the cool water, bringing it to his lips and sighing in relief.
After they had both quenched their thirst, Nat looked out across the river.
"Thom! What do you say to pitching camp over there?" she said, pointing. The sun was still high in the sky but she doubted she would find a better spot which would hide them from any passers-by.
Thom nodded amiably and wriggled back into his bag.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A few hours later the sun was setting and Nat had gotten a fire going. Her struggle for survival had taught her many things over the years. Fire had been the hardest over the last few days and the blisters on her hands from the last time she had tried to light a fire were bleeding heavily from rubbing the wood together. But she watched her work come to its fruition and stood proud by it.
She grinned ecstatically about her accomplishment - hot food tonight! She couldn't remember the last time they'd had something to warm themselves with except for each other.
Nodding to herself she looked around for Thom. But he was gone.
"Tom?" she called tentatively and then again, much more loudly "Tom?"
"Nat! Nat! There's fish in the river!" Thom yelled excitedly from the bank.
Nat sighed with relief.
"Come here, or you'll get a cold, I've got the fire ready," answered Nat gruffly, embarrassed that she'd not kept a proper eye on him. Still, she walked over to where her brother lay happily, dragging his hand in the water's currents which swirled around dragging debris downstream.
She watched for a bit, silently, as her brother tickled the underbellies of the fish in the water. She smiled contentedly; this was what life with her brother should be - free, blissful and without worry.
"How about some nice fish for dinner tonight, Thom?" she asked him jokingly.
Thom nodded and stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth, concentrating on the fish.
Nat giggled as she watched him try to provide their dinner, she opened her mouth to tell him to get a move on.
Nat stared as her brother flipped the fish expertly onto the ground beside him and grinned.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
His belly full, Thom had curled up to sleep beside Nat. He snored softly and snuggled closer every now and then.
His older sister seemed to be having a bit of trouble lying down and going to sleep though; she worried about the dangers of the woods behind her and if she and Thomas would ever find a suitable place to stop, rest and make themselves a home.
The adventure had been fun so far . . . a bit more difficult then she had expected but she had adapted, right? She could pull through, like she'd always done. Nothing could hold her back. And nothing would harm her brother. No danger would . . .
But it wasn't the dangers that kept her from sleep.
Those dreams haunted her. Every waking moment was plagued with her memories of them. Every time she laid her head down to rest the nightmares would consume her. Colours and symbols screamed at her as people of her past moaned in agony, their bodies twisted and maimed.
Natalie shuddered and closed her mind to it all.
They hammered at her, throbbing against her temples. She had to get away.
Softly, she pushed Thom off her lap and stood to greet the moon.
Its soft light played on her face as she took a step forward out of their sheltered cavelet.
Downstream, she heard whistling. Startled, she turned her head and saw a pinprick of light in the distance. She made to go towards it but turned back to the sleeping form of her brother.
'It won't take long, just a quick look,' she thought but she quickly pulled a few heavy branches over the entrance to the cave for safety and stamped out the remaining embers among the charcoal remnants of their fire.
Slowly, she crept towards the fire and counted only one man sitting hunched over what seemed to be his dinner. She moved towards the undergrowth to come closer.
Something under her foot cracked.
The man stood without a sound, a slither of metal betrayed his unsheathing of his sword.
He stood alert and on the balls of his feet, ready to attack anything that moved. His eyes glinted with the firelight and hardened as he tried to make out the gloom that surrounded him.
Turning his head, he checked all directions but, certain the sound had come from upstream, he remained facing towards Nat's direction.
She wanted to run, to hide and get away but she knew the slightest movement would have him attacking her without a second thought. She saw a hardened man, not unlike her father and for a minute she was afraid it was, but she assured herself that her father would never have bothered following her for a week.
She hoped he wasn't some sort of sex-maniac or mass-murderer, hiding out in the woods alone.
Grimacing, she called out.
"Sir?"
He held his sword a little higher.
"Come out where I can see you," he whispered into the air softly.
She walked out tentatively - keeping her eyes on the sword, waiting for it to lash out.
"A woman?" he asked incredulously, lowering his sword slightly but then drawing it up again and glancing anxiously about him.
Nat stood uncertainly before him and nodded slowly.
"What do you be doing then, out in the wilderness?" he asked cautiously. She noted that he hadn't put down his sword.
"I ran away," Nat replied stubbornly, but sensing his authority she added, "and I'm not going back."
"From where?" he asked her. The flickers of his campfire illuminated his face and glimmered on his sword but the rest was in shadow. His eyes were everywhere except on her, waiting for an attack from a different front.
"Why do you have a sword?" she asked him back, curious about his weapon, rather than avoiding his previous question.
He looked back and raised his eyebrows at her, putting his sword back into his sheath slowly.
"I doubt that you are a threat. Especially if you are so stubborn, naive and impolite," he chuckled to himself.
Nat glared at the man but he merely turned away from her sitting to pick up his bowl which had some evidence of a half-eaten stew.
"Sit down," he said.
She looked back to where her brother lay sleeping and sensed no disturbance. She gingerly took a seat next to the bearded man.
"Who are you?" she asked impatiently.
He finished chewing and swallowed slowly, taking his time to answer her.
"My name is Boromir, son of Denethor," he stopped suddenly and looked down at his plate. She tried to get a better look of his face but his lengthy, dark brown hair obscured his eyes. He had a neatly trimmed beard and a fairly prominent nose. He seemed to waiting for something from her.
Nat nodded to herself, he should be alright since he hasn't attacked her yet.
"I'm Natalie. But call me Nat, everyone else does."
Boromir seemed surprised by something but bent back down over his meal.
They sat in companionable silence as Boromir finished his stew off.
"You have not heard of me? Nor of my father?" Boromir asked finally, wiping his beard of any excess dinner.
"No . . . should I?"
He waved his hand at her, dismissing the topic.
"How long since you ran away?"
"A week, or so. The pigs wanted to take . . ." she trailed off, aware of the man's intent stare.
"Pigs?" he questioned her, eyes wide and surprised, "No, please continue."
When she didn't, Boromir tried again.
"Take . . . ?" he asked softly, urging her on and trying to capture her eyes in his to gain an answer.
She met his stare.
"I must get back to my own camp, I have stayed here too long," she got up abruptly and made her way out into the darkness.
Boromir shrugged and stamped out his fire. He picked up his cloak and untied his horse and led it up to where he guessed Nat had made her camp.
"I shall join you," he announced softly, "A woman should not stay out in the wilderness alone. These are troubled parts in troubled times; I would not want you to get hurt."
"I am not alone," whispered Nat furiously.
Nonetheless, Boromir tied his horse to a nearby tree and sat down next to the sleeping form of her brother.
Noticing Thom, he glanced up surprised.
"Your son?" he asked.
Nat gave him a withering frown.
"Your brother then . . . " he concluded.
She did not take her eyes off him.
"You can sleep," he gestured to a patch of grass, "I will keep watch tonight, you are weary."
"I will be fine," she sneered, sitting down where he had indicated.
"You are exhausted!" he hissed, "You mustn't push on like this!"
"Who are you tell me what to do?"
Boromir sighed and gazed at the stars above.
"I am simply concerned, lady," he said quietly.
Nat watched him for a while and sniffed loudly.
She yawned and her eyes drooped.
She struggled hard to keep them open but slid slowly to the ground next to Thomas. Her joints were getting stiff so she tried to stretch out her muscles slowly. Nat put her hands up to frame the stars above her and yawned slowly as the stars flickered at her. The moonlight bathed her face and she smiled as her brother next to her turned into her embrace.
"You can sleep, Boromir," she said generously, "I'll keep watch, it's ok."
Boromir continued to watch the woods.
"I'm . . . not sleepy. I can," she yawned again, "stay up . . . all . . ."
Boromir turned and smiled as Nat turned over and promptly fell asleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Whoa, that was long. I could have posted yesterday but I had a concert to swelter in. How can something be so prominent and not have air conditioning? Ah wells, hot spell's nearly over so there'll be storm soon. :D Yay!
Oh yes, and Shaitan told me to pass on to you that he wants more reviews, yeah, 13 is his number of the millennia but he prefers more for my sake. *smiles happily at Shaitan who scowls*
WHATEVER *CROSSES ARMS (?)*
He's soooo cute, sometimes!