Chapter 10
It was a dim pre-dawn when the Fellowship assembled their things for travel. For Sierra, everything was neatly packed and tightly strapped down or packed away. She attached her bedroll to its place on the outside of her pack and then hefted the bag onto her back and moved to join her companions. They all were wearing their traveling garb, some pieces new to replace old, damaged parts of armor and much undamaged clothing had been thoroughly washed during their stay. Sierra had to stop some ladies from perfuming their garb the day before; the flowery scents could give them away and have the added affect of embarrassing the mostly male Fellowship.
"Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people." spoke Celeborn. As the group of nine stood together as they were granted some gifts of the elves to safeguard their journey: fine, olive-colored cloaks. The clasps that held the cloaks together were so fine and delicate, Sierra at first feared they might snap and then reassured herself that these were of Elvish craft. These clasps would hold the cloaks tight even if a cave troll tore at them. "May these cloaks help shield you from unfriendly eyes." Along with the cloaks, they had all received other gifts, all fine and lovely things both practical and beautiful.
With the final gift granted, everyone nodded and bowed thanks as they were escorted to three boats along a riverbank. Everyone started arranging their things evenly in the boats, mindful to keep the boats even-keeled when bearing the weight of passengers and their respective belongings. Legolas pulled out a small triangular piece of bread from a small pack of food.
"Lembas." Legolas remarked with a smile, "Elvish way bread." he explained when Merry and Pippin looked up at him curiously. The elf took a tiny bite, chewed, and swallowed before returning the piece to the food pack. "One small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man." Both hobbits nodded as Legolas put the pack into the boat and then proceeded to talk amongst themselves, though loud enough to be heard by Sierra who stood nearby.
"How many did you eat?" Merry asked Pippin.
"Four." the hobbit answered as Merry proceeded to pick his teeth. He belched softly and Sierra gave him a firm look.
"You realize that bread has to last us a long while." She said as both hobbits looked away sheepishly. After a moment, Sierra leaned in and whispered, "I had two pieces myself." The hobbits stifled a laugh as she sneakily grinned beside them. Truthfully, Sierra had a weakness for bread of any sort; it was her favorite food. So when she'd found one pack of Lembas and recognized it as bread, she crammed two pieces into her mouth before realizing how the bread made someone. She was half tempted to curl up and sleep off the amazing full feeling in her stomach. As everyone prepared to board, Gimli made a short exclamation and hurried over to Sierra with a small pack in hand.
"I almost forgot to get this to ya, lass." when the dwarf opened the pack, Sierra saw a long, elegantly pointed knife blade with a leather bound grip. Along the middle of the blade was a smooth and delicate fuller of dark, almost black, metal and the hilt had twin flared quillions in the same dark metal to guard her hand. The knife was accompanied by a simple leather sheath with metal caps both at the point and at the hilt seat and two thick horizontal loops of leather at the top and bottom so she could attach it sideways on her her belt. Sierra was stunned.
"Gimli! It's beautiful!" She couldn't say much else and thanked the dwarf with a firm hug. It was when Gimli began to protest and commanded that she let go of him.
"There wasn't time to craft a match, but I believe it will do just fine for what you'll be needin' it for." Gimli said as Sierra gingerly wheeled the blade around, testing its weight in her hand. She was so busy removing and adjusting her belt to attach the new knife, she missed the sight of the others clambering into the boats. When she'd finished, the only boat that had room was the boat bearing Legolas and Gimli. She was quickly assisted into the boat, seating herself behind Gimli and in front of Legolas. It was a fair arrangement: Gimli did not block her view of what was ahead and she did not block Legolas' sight.
Soon enough, the largest members of the Fellowship, Legolas, Aragorn, and Boromir, had begun quietly rowing out onto the still river. Quietly, they all thought on the gifts they had received: to Legolas went a fine elven bow, so intricately carved, Sierra believed it more apt to a display piece than a weapon. Merry and Pippin had received the Daggers of Noldorin, twin blades which had seen battle and would surely serve their new masters faithfully. Sam received elven rope, very fine but also immensely strong; he was somewhat disappointed to have not received a gift of a blade as were granted to Merry and Pippin. Sierra smiled softly as Gimli asked for little more than to be allowed another glimpse at Galadriel and them stammered and bashfully shuffled before the Lady, asking for but one hair from her head; the dwarf was granted with three. A significant and lovely gift.
Aragorn asked for nothing, but Galadriel assured him she could not grant anything more than what he already had. Frodo was given an ornate glass vial, named the light of Eärendil, and kissed him chastely on his crown; what purpose the vial would serve in the future, Sierra had no idea. Boromir was granted anything he wished, but chose nothing in the end, jokingly he commented that he had enough belongings on his person. Sierra was the last Galadriel had approached and was given a necklace of woven silvery chains with three pearl pendants along its front; the pearls were to grant her safe passage, or so Galadriel had said, and would thrice save her in her adventure. The Lady gave Sierra a serious and thoughtful look before she parted and the human ran her thumb over one of the delicate off-white pearls.
As the party rowed onward, Sierra glanced into the forest to her right, feeling eyes on her and spotted Faroth standing just beyond the bank. She could swear he was smiling when he bowed a farewell and disappeared into the wood. Sierra's eyes drifted forward again and stared quietly over the glassy water, pondering the outcome of the adventure into Mordor.
The river carried the nine travelers through a thick, seemingly endless forest and along rocky cliff faces. While the water itself was surprisingly calm and sped their journey to make up for the days spent in Lothlórien, Boromir was wary of the edges of the river as he paddled, Aragorn and Legolas shared his wariness and watched the riverbanks carefully. Every distant twig snap or rustle in the leaves had the men glancing this way and that. They felt something was chasing them. Sierra, the hobbits, and Gimli did not have their vigilance.
Sam was minding a quiet and worrying Frodo, Merry and Pippin were listless in their boat and begging for a change in scenery, and Sierra did her best to keep Gimli from being sick to his stomach. Early into their boat ride, Gimli confessed his susceptibility to seasickness and and that he couldn't swim. Mindful of this, Legolas purposefully made his oar strokes more gentle, putting less sway in the boat and also slowing their progress more than the others. As night fell, the Fellowship pulled their boats up onto a wide, pebbled riverbank and Gimli all but kissed the ground when he'd set foot on their camping place. Aragorn and Boromir went to scope out the area, to ferret out any undesirables and secure the place for the night.
The first thing the passengers did on arriving was stretch their legs and recover from sitting for an exorbitant amount of time. Sierra, Merry, and Pippin all wobbled as they disembarked, almost tripping over themselves for their underused limbs. Sierra made a note to request more frequent stops if they came along and take time to stretch out her legs before they fell asleep for lack of use. She walked around stiff-legged at first but then eased up as the jelly-like feeling started going away and everyone started to gather near a small fire. Boromir approached the fire with a small package of preserved meat in one hand while the other had a package of lembas and Pippin dug around in another bag for handfuls of fruit. The party ate and slept well that first night on the river, albeit with some trepidation for any strangers that could come along.
Sierra was seated in the only tree overlooking the camp and the nearby area while Aragorn stood watch at the riverbank. She had an excellent view of the space for being in the only high point in the immediate area: the grass in the area swayed gently in the night breeze and whatever unusual movement she saw in the waving green blades belonged to small creatures. Sam took over her watch after a few hours and slept until the sun shining on her closed eyes brought her back to the waking world. The next day began like the last, everyone gathering their belongings and filling the boats, everyone in the same boats as before as well.
It was a quiet ride as the Fellowship made their way through a mountainous area. No one wanted to speak, focusing on keeping their stomachs steady or keeping an eye out for anything strange. With cliffs soaring high above them on either side of the river, Sierra had an ache in her neck in trying to see where the rocky walls ended. Aragorn excitedly patted Frodo's shoulder as they came around another bend and indicated the largest statues Sierra had ever seen: two massive sculptures of men guarding either side of the river, both wearing hemlets and robes and with their left arms extended, the hand situated in a 'stop' sign. The sculpture on the right had a beard and a sword held close to his body where as the one on the left was clean-shaven and rested his hand on a stony shelf beside him.
"Wow..." Sierra whispered in awe. Aragorn quietly explained that these two sculptures represented the kings of old, his ancestors, and were dubbed the Argonath. Each and every one of the members of the Fellowship stared in reverence as they passed between the guardian statues, massive enough to take five boat lengths to cover the length of their carved feet. Beyond the statues, the river opened to a naturally dammed lake, the end of which was marked by a spire of stone with a fog of mist around it. "There's a waterfall over there?" Sierra asked openly.
"Yes, and a tall one too. They're known as the Falls of Rauros. Best to be careful not to drift too close or they'll take us all over." Boromir supplied from his boat.
"There's a good bank ahead," Legolas added, halting his paddling to point ahead and to the right, "it's far enough from the falls to be a safe resting place." Everyone agreed to disembark there and make camp. Again, Sierra performed her stiff leg ritual and proceeded to meander the borders of the camp, making a cursory check with Gimli before Aragorn, Legolas, and Boromir made a more thorough search.
"If I never set foot in a boat again, it'll be too soon." Gimli grumbled, recovering from his nausea. Sierra laughed softly and patted the dwarf reassuringly.
"Easy Gimli, I'm sure we won't be boating for too much longer." She said, "At least it's far quicker than traveling on foot and safer than swimming where we need to go." Gimli blanched a little at the swimming comment and reluctantly nodded in acceptance. Traveling the river had taken the party very swiftly closer to where they needed to go, saving them the better part of a week of foot travel.
"I'd be glad to sit put for a day or so." Sam commented from the small warm fire, "Catch some rest and heal our blisters." Sierra choked back a snort of a laugh at that. She knew Sam had sat one way too long during yesterday's boat ride and had laughed loudly when he'd all but shouted he'd discovered a blister on his rump when he'd gone to use the facilities behind some thick brush.
After the cursory search and a further securing search, everyone deemed the bank a fine place to camp and gathered closer to the flames. Aragorn decided to share his thoughts on what they would do next as he hauled up a bag from his boat.
"We cross the lake at nightfall," everyone glanced up to regard him, "Hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north."
"Oh yes?" Sierra glanced at Gimli, "Just a simple matter of finding our way through Emen Muil? An impassible labyrinth of razor sharp rocks? And after that, it get's even better!" Pippin stared at the dwarf, half focused on chewing, half focused on processing what he'd just heard. Sierra didn't like the sound of things either, gulped down what dried meat she'd been chewing on, and put the rest down, waiting for further input from the dwarf. "Festering, stinking marshlands as far as the eye can see."
"That is our road." Aragorn confirmed calmly. Sierra looked at the man like he was crazy. Sure, the troupe had faced getting lost and being literally bogged down, but from what Gimli said, Mordor sounded to be almost too much trouble to bother with. "I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, master dwarf." Aragorn seemed so calm and collected, Sierra wondered if he'd secretly found an herbal drug.
"Recover my-!" Gimli interrupted himself with a half sputtering, half rumbling growl. Meanwhile Legolas, who had been watching the wood, quickly approached Aragorn. While Sierra couldn't hear his whispered words, she sensed he'd seen trouble and moved to shuffle her food back into its wrapping when she'd heard Aragorn's decisive 'No.' It was murmured and the rest of his sentence fell to whisper, but she and anyone paying close attention to the exchange were wary. With a dismissing nod, Aragorn returned to minding his bag and its contents and Legolas stared warily into the forest again, whispering too quiet to be heard, and turned a warning gaze on the man. Everyone was unsettled by this and moved to rest more comfortably. As Gimli grumbled, Merry worriedly asked the question no one wanted to hear.
"Where's Frodo?" Sierra and every hobbit's head snapped up and she glanced to where Frodo had sat not ten minutes before: it was empty. With further looking around, everyone realized Boromir was missing too, his shield resting innocently beside the man's belongings.
They had scattered into teams to find the two missing members of the Fellowship. Gimli and Legolas had gone one way to the right while Aragorn and Sierra scrambled to the left. The hobbits had scattered themselves in between the two main teams, though they remained in earshot. Sierra had trouble keeping with Aragorn as he nimbly scaled the hillside and shooed him ahead as she continued looking around her for her friend.
"Up the hill!" Aragorn called. Sierra turned and scrambled up, tripping over herself and sliding on loose leaf litter as she went. Eventually she had caught up with Aragorn, who had just crested the hill and found a weary Frodo lying on the ground. She saw Frodo hurry to his feet and move away as Aragorn approached him
"Frodo!" Sierra called. The hobbit whirled and looked at her, scared like a deer.
"Frodo!" Aragorn barked, making the hobbit turn to him and stagger backward through the stone ruin. Sierra hurried after them, certain something bad had happened in the time Frodo had been missing. "I swore to protect you." the man continued, trying to reassure the scared hobbit.
"Can you protect me from yourself?" the dark-hared hobbit asked. Sierra then rounded the corner and hurried ahead of Aragorn, slowing herself to walk slowly towards Frodo. He was still shaken, but she murmured reassurances and stopped her approach as soon as he took one step away. "You too, Sierra. Can you?" She'd heard his question to Aragorn and had reasoned what had happened to startle him.
"I can Frodo." She reassured him, "You are my friend as Aragorn is our friend. We would never do anything to harm you." Frodo's tightly clasped right hand told her the ring was encased within. After a beat, Frodo's hand loosened and he held the dark thing for both humans to see. He continued:
"Would you destroy it?" Sierra took a step back from the Ring, its dark whispers scaring her as it beckoned for her to reach out and take it. She anchored her feet, refusing to take the trinket. Aragorn, however, crept closer and moved to grab the ring. Sierra sucked in a breath and quietly let it go as she saw the man kneel before the hobbit, wrapping the tiny hand around the cursed thing. Sierra was relieved and awed at Aragorn's impressive control.
"I would have gone with you to the end. Into the very fires of Mordor." Sierra paused at Aragorn's words, watching as he pressed Frodo's hands to him and let go. Softly, Frodo whispered 'I know' to the man, and turned to Sierra, gaining a confirming nod that she too would go so far.
"Look after the others." He said to both humans, "Especially Sam. He will not understand." It then clicked with Sierra what he meant to do and she choked back a protest, knowing it was Frodo's choice in the end. Quietly, she approached and hugged the hobbit firmly, taking deep breaths to hold back tears.
"You will tell this story." Sierra said firmly, "You will tell this story to every hobbit back home. Because I won't. And I'll make sure no one else does. You need to tell it, Frodo." She searched the hobbit's blue eyes and he nodded a confirmation, silently promising to come back from Mount Doom. Sierra's pursed lips quivered and she nodded decisively as she released the hobbit. Then Aragorn was on his feet, his sword in hand, quietly bidding Frodo to leave. Sierra and Frodo both noticed the direction of his gaze and they glanced at Sting as it was pulled from its scabbard.
Sting glowed an almost white.
"Run...run!" Aragorn prompted and went to intercept the oncoming orc force. Sierra drew her knives and looked one last time at Frodo.
"Be safe." And she turned away to help the man, leaving her dear friend to flee behind her. She refused to think he would never come back, refused to accept what was most likely to come to pass. Sierra took comfort in that she'd gotten to say goodbye as she stared blankly at the horde of orcs before her and Aragorn, her knives twirling serenely in her hands. "You take right, I'll take left?" Aragorn glanced at the woman and smiled despite himself. At his nod, both humans charged into the fray, soon needing to back up into the stone ruin.
It was not long before Legolas and Gimli came upon the battle, assisting as best they could to reduce the number of orcs. Legolas had bid Aragorn to go after the leading edge of orcs and Sierra leaped from above onto an orc who had moved to chase the man. Her knives bit deep into the orc flesh, though her landing onto the orc's head was the more likely cause of his quick death. One knife had gotten stuck in a collar bone and so she pulled out her new knife from Gimli and skewered an enemy square in the throat. She silently praised the dwarf's thoughtfulness and craftsmanship. She had then yanked her knives free and hurried down the hill to assure Frodo would not get caught when she spotted Merry and Pippin causing a diversion.
'Those idiots!' Sierra inwardly cursed and praised the two hobbits as they drew away a considerable number of orcs. She chased after the two, taking out some orcs as she went. Soon, she'd caught up beside the hobbits. "Come on you stupid orcs!" She goaded the black-armored troops, "Can't catch a girl and two halflings? Pathetic!" Together, the three fled, winding around trees and luring the orcs further away from Frodo and the others. Fortune was not beside them as the three found themselves blocked in with a horde behind them and another growing before them.
"Now what?" Pippin squeaked as he searched for an exit. They didn't wonder long, for just as one orc was raising a war axe to strike, Boromir appeared out of nowhere, a rage in red garb with a biting blade. Together, the four faught off orc after orc, a blur of green robes, glinting knives, and black blood.
Not far off and not long after, Legolas, Gimli, and Aragorn were picking off a loosening string of orcs when they'd heard the sound of a horn. Boromir's Horn of Gondor. At the sound, everyone hurried to the site of battle, the blaring horn their only guide. Boromir blew the horn as he, Sierra, Merry, and Pippin all fled, taking orcs with them as they ran. Sierra gasped for air as she repeated fed black orc blood to her blades, deciding she would be very surprised if the sharp edges did not turn black after this fight. Unfortunately, none of them saw the archer high above, notching a cruelly-formed arrow in a matching bow and aiming square at Boromir.
Sierra heard the thud and Boromir's gasp of surprise as the arrow punched the air out of his chest. She whirled as she saw Boromir stagger, mouth agape and with an arrow deep in the high left side of his chest. It was a marvel and an inspiration to see him return to standing and fighting off yet more orcs. Sierra stood beside the man to assist him, their blades singing loudly from battle.
Another black arrow flew and scored another hit, this time in the man's gut.
"Boromir!" Sierra shouted, the arrow had screamed loudly in her ear as it passed. Boromir was not dead, but the arrow had brought him to his knees and robbed him of his breath. The man gasped a command for her and the hobbits to go as he struggled to hang on. Merry and Pippin here stunned in place and Sierra only barely kept her wits about her as she hurried to the two, ushering them away as Boromir once again rose to his feet and wielded his blade. Sierra suddenly shouted and fell face-first to the ground, a white hot burning pain in the lower left side of her back, just below the ribs. The archer had gotten her too.
Sierra had never been hurt this bad before. Everything seemed to swim around her as the pain took hold: noises muted, motion blurred, and the world seemed to go dark. The last thing she saw was a third arrow land in Boromir's gut and the two hobbits desperately drawing their blades to charge at the oncoming enemy. Then her world was nothing but black unconsciousness. It was still dark when she'd woken, but it was the dark of night. A campfire crackled not far off and she was covered in the thick cloak the elves had given her, her back against a rock and her feet outstretched. She could not speak much, but softly she called out for someone's attention. Legolas came to her then, hearing her cry and taking it as one of pain. She spoke quietly, for her side burned with pain.
"Frodo?" Sierra asked.
"Gone away from here. He and Sam both." The elf answered. She nodded, relieved the two were safe.
"Merry? And Pippin?" it came as a croak and Legolas held a skin of water to her lips.
"Taken by the orcs." He said bitterly as she drank. Sierra swallowed some water and asked one last name.
"Boromir?" Legolas did not answer but shook his head sadly. Sierra let out a sob then, the only one she gave as tears silently sprang forth. She gasped and took deep breaths, both to calm herself and ease the pain in her side. She was comforted when she opened her eyes and saw Aragorn by the fire, Gimli too, and then of course with Legolas beside her. What were they to do now? They were less than half the Fellowship they were when they left the elven cities. First Gandalf, now Boromir, and then who?
What would happen to them next?
We have reached ten chapters and the end of The Fellowship of the Ring. The next chapter will be the start of The Two Towers, probably another ten or so chapters. I speculate this story culminating in 30 chapters, maybe with an extra for an epilogue.
I must say, I am extremely happy with how this story is going. And I want to take it to an ending I've already begun planning.
I've also noticed I tend to have Sierra get conked out a lot. I'll try to lighten up on that.
Tune in next Wednesday for another chapter.
