Lady of Wolves/Chapter 24

Arya jolted awake at Gimli's cry. Panicked, certain of the worst, she twisted sharply out of her bedroll and onto her feet, searching wildly for the cause of the commotion.

"You foolish Hobbit! What do you mean by this, eating something so poisonous?" Gimli's voice rang out, frustratingly helpless.

Squinting against the night's darkness, the firelight reaching only to the edges of the clearing, Arya almost tripped over Nymeria's tail as she stepped forward. The others were waking up now, hazed with sleep, hoisting themselves upright. Legolas, slightly disgruntled, only turned over to watch.

Gimli, who had taken the watch after her, was standing over Sam and Frodo, waving a clenched fist over their heads. Both Hobbits looked abashed, but not as frightened as they ought to be, if the mushrooms Gimli was holding were suitably deadly.

Merry and Pippin were both huddled in their bedrolls, pretending to sleep, bodies too tense to signify anything else.

Stifling a yawn, Arya hopped over Nymeria and trudged over to Gimli. A few minutes of lost sleep would not hurt her, and dawn was close anyway, judging by the soft glow to the eastern sky.

The direwolf snorted and rolled the other way, unamused by the interruption to her rest.

"What's going on, Gimli?" Arya asked, too concerned to consider indirectness. "Frodo, Sam?"

Gimli spun around to her, brandished the mushrooms like a weapon. "I caught them eating these! I know Hobbits have unending appetites, but surely even they draw the limit at poisonous food!"

"Those aren't posionous!" Frodo burst in, blue eyes wide. "We always ate them at the Shire!"

Boromir came over too, dragging his heels reluctantly. He had been livelier the past few days, free from the Ring's grasp, more warm and open. Now, shaken from his sleep, a semblance of his initial grumpiness returned.

"Those are poisonous," Boromir confirmed, taking a closer look. "I was travelling once with my brother when we were younger, and the poor fool decided that he knew plants better than I did. I got him to a healer in time, but he suffered a few unpleasant days and nights afterwards. A fitting punishment for thinking with his hunger instead of his mind."

"Faramir?" Arya checked, remembering Aragorn's stories after Bree. With a quick glance over, she confirmed that the man himself was sitting upright, rubbing at his eyes blearily as he listened.

Boromir nodded, eyeing the Hobbits speculatively. "Yes. I don't have any other siblings."

"The mushrooms have never caused us problems," Sam intervened, though he looked slightly guilty. "Are you sure you're remembering them correctly?"

"More than anything. How can it be that you are unaffected when eating them? Even livestock die."

Arya frowned. Nymeria was still relaxed on the ground, Morry curled up beside her. Had there truly been any danger, the two would have sensed it.

"All elves know that Hobbits are immune to most poisons," Legolas broke in, managing to sound smugly superior even when laying huddled in several blankets. "Of course, knowing the… somewhat doubtful learnings of Dwarves, I am not surprised that you do not know this."

Gimli scowled. "Not all of us have the luxury of unnaturally long lifespans, Legolas. We have better things to do than reading dusty old books."

Arya rolled her eyes. "That's enough, both of you. I'm more curious about how the effects of poison differ between us all. If something kills humans and dwarves, but not Hobbits, what does it do to elves?"

Legolas shrugged elegantly. "That would depend on the poison, though in most cases the effects would be delayed or reduced, possibly both. These mushrooms would cause us to be sick in stomach for some days, but nothing beyond that."

Arya tapped her foot against the ground thoughtfully. "Aragorn? Was it you who told me that the land of Mordor is a place of death?"

"It was I who said so," Boromir interrupted. "The land itself is tainted by Sauron's evil. Any food or water brought in becomes corrupted likewise, to the detriment of whatever poor fool chooses to venture there. Mordor is barren but for posioned waters and inedible foods –" He stopped then, turned to give the Hobbits a speculative look. "Ah. I understand now."

Aragorn nodded. "The Hobbits can do what mere humans cannot. Legolas, what are your views? Would you know what grows in Mordor?"

"Withered and rotten things, such which only orcs and other monsters may eat." Legolas hummed thoughtfully. "More that that I cannot say for sure."

They all fell into silence, broken only by the sounds of Frodo and Sam finishing off the mushrooms, with Pippin and Merry whispering in the background.

"I believe it may be best to start planning a separation," Arya said at last. "Gimli, Boromir and Aragorn, as humans and a dwarf, you will not survive Mordor. It would do harm to us all if we were to be delayed by any damage or injury to you."

"Where are we to go then?" Gimli asked disgruntedly. "Our purpose is to ensure the destruction of the Ring."

"Our ultimate purpose is the destruction of Sauron and his evil," Boromir corrected. "That can be done in many ways." He looked at Aragorn and his face took on a determined look. "It is far past time for the wrongs of the past to be corrected." Boromir stood.

In the pale golden light of early morning, Aragorn did the same.

"Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Heir of Gondor," Boromir announced. "I recognise you as the rightful king and pledge my allegiance. May you guide Gondor and its people to victory in this war." He knelt in front of Aragorn and bowed his head.

Aragorn took a deep breath, shoulders tense with resolve, laying a hand on Boromir's shoulder. "Boromir, son of Denethor, I accept your fealty, though I have not yet ruled over anyone. I will need a Steward of sound honour, honesty and courage. Will you advise and guide me, so that Gondor prospers and its people live long?"

"My father is the Steward," Boromir said, surprised.

"True, but I have not heard good things of him of late. Difficult as it may be for you to know, but I fear he has been corrupted by Sauron's power." Aragorn looked at Boromir intensely. "I need you, Boromir, not your father. You have proven yourself on this quest and I can think of no better man to stand by my side."

"Then I am honoured to accept." Boromir rose. "Let us prepare for the new day's journey. We have distance to cover still and can discuss our plans once we are on our way."

The others, who had observed quietly, leapt into a flurry of packing. In no time at all, the silver boats and their passengers were heading onwards once more.

"Boromir, Gimli, it will be best for us to head to Gondor through Rohan," Aragorn stated, oar held steadily in hand. "We will need our allies and it is best to have the knowledge of my kingship conveyed to them personally, rather than risking the message being lost or misconstrued."

"That is a lot of walking, is it not?" Gimli asked.

"The Rohirrim have plenty of horses," Boromir returned. "I am sure they will not mind lending us some."

"Will it be only us Hobbits in Mordor?" Frodo piped up, expression uncertain. "I do not like our chances if we are alone there."

"Our plan to draw away the Ringwraiths and Sauron's attention must still stand." Arya pushed the oar through the water easily. "Legolas, as an elf, is also relatively safe from Mordor, though how much only time will tell. He can escort you as far as he can."

"I will do so gladly," Legolas acknowledged. "I will try to identify the plants and what may be edible for either elves or Hobbits, though I still believe we should take the Lembas and elven wine with us. Mordor's poison should be slower to act on these, which buys us more valuable time."

"Rauros Falls is as good a place as any to separate," Aragorn confirmed. "Let us continue until there, only then shall we attempt to draw out the Ringwraiths, We shall all be closer to our respective goals if we do so, in distance at least."

Morry gave a short howl from the riverbank, where he and Nymeria were keeping pace. Some birds startled out of the nearby trees.

"I will of course take you with me, Morry," Aragorn called out, both exasperated and fond.

Boromir and Gimli huffed, but wisely did not disagree.

"Then it is all sorted," Arya said. She pulled her oar out of the water and laid it into the boat, while Merry and Pippin seamlessly adjusted their positions. "I will fly ahead and will be back in some time."

The others assented, turning to focus on their route ahead.

Laying back, thankfully onto blankets this time, Arya focused on one of the startled birds, and flew.

~o0o~

The river glitters, but the heat has become too much in the midday sun. The kite shrieks out a call and veers west, away from the faint traces of evil in the eastern sky, searching for a suitable tree to rest.

She alights with grace, talons gripping the tree branch tightly, turning to preen her feathers back into shape. For several moments now, she has been plagued with a feeling of unease, some sense of uncertainty which the body of the kite senses beyond her rational thoughts.

With a squawk of unease, she turns to the other wing. The forest has become more quiet, silent almost, in only the brief time she has been resting.

Something is not right.

Deciding to forgo the rest and return to the sky, she stills suddenly.

There are sounds of metal, the thudding of earth, growling noises approaching. The instinct to flee becomes almost overpowering, but she is stronger than a mere bird.

Instead, she hops closer to the tree trunk, almost pressing herself against the bark and huddling down. Her red-brown plumage helps to hide her as the sounds approach.

Large, dark-coloured creatures burst through the undergrowth, snarling and growling as they heave weapons on their shoulders and shove each other aside. They look vaguely human-shaped, but are far larger and more deadly looking, with claws and fangs and burning eyes.

With a jolt, she recognises them as the monsters that were being created in Isengard. Thoughts racing, she knows she must return to the others.

Waiting barely until the creatures are gone, she spreads her wings and takes to the sky. The kite is tired though, wings heavy. For the first time, she tries to return to herself while out of sight of her body. It is difficult, but eventually she twists and slips free.

~o0o~

Arya bolts upright and gasps.

Sam, drawn by the sound even though he is further down the river, immediately sits up when he sees her face. "Miss Arya, are you alright? Did you see something?"

"Yes, Sam," she answers tightly. "Everyone! Keep the boats together!"

Aragorn and Legolas, hearing her warning, steer closer.

"What happened?" Aragorn queried first.

"The monsters created at Isengard are heading in our direction," she informs them bluntly. "They are not travelling as fast as we are, but it is still quick enough. If we are lucky, we will be able to reach Rauros Falls before them and split our paths. If we are unlucky, which unfortunately is more likely, we will have to face them before we can set our plan in motion."

Everyone turns grim.

"How many are there? Which side of the river?" Gimli asks.

"At least twenty, coming from the west. Mordor lies east so the Hobbits and Legolas should be safe enough on their travels, but I remain concerned for the rest of us. We have no advantage other than knowledge and the river. It will not be a fair fight."

"We must remain hopeful," Boromir said. "How certain are we that it is us they are coming for?"

"There are no villages or towns this close to Mordor," Aragorn reminded him. "No doubt Saruman has used his magic to find us, or rather the Ring."

"We can still fight, surely, if we have to." Gimli knocked his oar against the side of the boat in frustration. "I do not like the odds, but we can prepare."

"They were heavily armed," Arya warned. "We must plan this cautiously. It will take some time for the Ringwraiths to come to us, perhaps in the middle of it all I can use my skinwalking to aid us."

Aragorn nodded, determined. "We must continue on to Rauros Falls. No matter what happens, no such creatures or the Ringwraiths may set their hands upon the Ring. We will die if we have to – let us ensure it does not come to that."

All chorused their agreement.

"I will continue scouting ahead," Arya added. "That way we will be able to plan better and track their movements." She laughed darkly. "If it comes to it, we destroy as many of them as we can. Hobbits and Legolas, no matter what happens to the rest of us, when the time comes you must head to Mordor."

"We will," Frodo promised solemnly.