The Protector in the Shadow
‡
Well here's the next chapter update of "TPITS" I hope you all enjoy it! It was extremely fun to write, and I think it turned out so much better now that I have a proof-reader to help me through my rather horrible grammar. I would like to personally thank my proof-reader for putting up with my obnoxious personality and come out and simply say "I'm extremely pumped to work with you on the next chapter as well"! Hopefully you've all enjoyed the chapters so far, but I feel none have done complete justice with my errors. I'm very pleased with Serrah-Angel's work, and look forward to our future dealings! -Ze
‡
Disclaimer: Must you remind me?
†Past†
‡Present‡
Chapter Twenty One: A Dwarf Rider
Lyavain trudged after the two creatures before her grudgingly. Three days of no food nor rest was not the problem for her, but for their Dwarf friend it seemed extremely hard. By the end of the first day he was completely spent. No longer able to muster the strength to run, and so under the decision of the small part of the Fellowship, they decided he should ride. But without a docile pony in sight and no wild steed could be seen, it was Fëa who he was to ride. Normally Fëa wouldn't have cared of the extra weight, but if the fellowship was still together it would have been a much lighter weight she carried. Her back wasn't like the back of a horse that could easily be used and that the creature would get used to. Its Elven quality seemed to make it almost frail and easy to injure; though she hid that from Aragorn, who would have her walk if he could.
Aragorn seemed to spoil Fëa, if they stopped for food at any given time she would eat her fill before anyone else. She couldn't tell if it was the fact that she was carrying the most weight, in a literal sense and a metaphorical sense. Though he had not heard the confession to her by their late companion, he knew it weighed heavy on her chest and rarely did they even speak his name.
Fëa figured it was the fact of their relationship, or what he thought their relationship was, was so rocky and rough. She figured the heir thought that Boromir had said something hateful instead of professing his love to her. Fëa had to admit, it was unexpected. She had misread everything about Boromir from the beginning. If only she would have had her dream before the man had died, the dream where he denied his father and almost sent Faramir in his stead. The whole dynamic would have changed; everything in the fellowship would have been different. Perhaps the fellowship would not have fallen, but it was Boromir's death that changed Faramir into the creature he was, or will be when Frodo meets him.
In her heart she had known from the beginning that Boromir wasn't all evil, but there was a moment she was convinced that he had been. Though now as her heart was in horrible distress, she had been so blind all those long days. Now the thoughts of the Steward's son plagued her mind, though she hadn't slept she knew she wouldn't. His face would haunt her dreams; his last words would ring in her ears. She found herself dreading sleep, even worried and frightened of what would come from it.
"Fëa?" Gimli mused from on top of her, her head swiveled to look back at her rider. She could tell Gimli was most grateful for being allowed to grace her wild form, and escape the seemingly endless running they were doing. She had held back so Aragorn could listen for the Uruk-hai's pace. She offered a wolfish grin, her body barely panted, though her distinct clue of exhaustion was starting to overtake her, "I must be a most cumbersome load, shall I walk a few leagues?" he questioned about to slip off before Fëa's snout stopped him. She watched him with a wild expression, the grin on her face growing.
She thought for a moment before she heard Aragorn warn of the pace quickening that sent her leaping forward past Legolas, and even the king himself. "Could you keep this pace, Dwarf?" she questioned with a devious smirk as she heard the Dwarf start to grumble. She chuffed and laughed as she could, the longer hairs in her mane rustled in the wind. She soon fell back behind the king, feeling it not right to steal the right of the chase from the man. There was such rough passion that he was giving to the chase and she felt horrible that she would be rude enough to take that chase from him. There was a moment where her mind had numbed from the world; the only thing she focused on was staying just a few paces away from the man. Moving along almost the same path he did, no matter how difficult. No matter how steep the slope or rocky the land, never did she slow more than six strides behind the king. The Elf passed her every now and again, running ahead, hardly slowing not even to conserve energy.
Even with her Dwarf rider she seemed too smooth and graceful to be true. She took notice to the fact that Aragorn slowed gently and came up beside him looking up slightly. She was tall, the size of a small horse; yet she still found herself looking up into the eyes of most of the men around her, excluding Gimli whom she almost had to look down to see into his eyes. She watched Aragorn crouch down looking deeply into one of the foot prints of the Uruk-hai. He reached down to pick something up off it and Fëa padded over quickly to sniff the thing. Long had she known the two hobbits' scents. "This is from Peregrin." She said knowingly into Aragorn's mind her eyes locking with his for a moment.
"Not idly do the leaves of Lórien fall." He mumbled aloud, gently ruffling the hair atop Ava's skull as he was happy with their success. She was also pleased to be one step closer to find the two lively hobbits.
"They may yet be alive." Legolas said with a small smile, hope filled the eyes of the creatures around her. She could feel the mood had brightened greatly.
"Less than a day ahead of us! Come!" he called loudly with a bold smile, leaping into action and running with all his might. Fëa followed in his footsteps as she had been before. Her large pillars made it hard for her to keep up a slower pace; she wanted to go faster, to keep ahead of them and to find the creatures quickly. Normally she would have followed the scent, but it was so heavily covered by the scent of Uruk she found herself gagging every time she even inhaled a breath of the seemingly poisoned fumes.
The day had started off well, but soon the heat beating down on her made her mind a little less than pleasant. The complaining of Gimli being sore was making her go insane. He was sore? Why? What had he done other then sit atop her back like one of the hobbits? She found herself growling to keep from going off on the man, and the need to simply smack him from her back and teach him a lesson wouldn't fall from her mind. Soon enough the complaining became constant, though it was only mumbles meant for her it was starting to drive her in a way that was most definitely not safe for Gimli. Soon enough she was glad to find herself slowed atop a ridge overlooking the rolling land of Rohan.
"Rohan, home of the horse-lords. There is something strange at work here. Some evil gives speed to these creatures, sets its will against us." Aragorn said with a confused expression. Looking ahead to see Legolas perched upon a rock with a serious expression. There was a moment of silence before the king spoke to the prince again, "Legolas, what do your Elf eyes see?" the man questioned with a strange gleam in his eyes. Again the obsessing mumblings of Gimli started. But this time Fëa couldn't help but snarl, ignoring the continued conversation between Aragorn and the prince.
"Gimli, if you do not silence this incessant whining, I will silence it for you," Her voice rang through all the minds around her. "And if I silence you, never again will you speak. Three days I have carried your heavy load without so much as a whimper. Yet you complain of being sore?"
Aragorn and Legolas quieted, turning to look at the wolf beside the king. At first, the pair were confused; then Legolas chuckled slightly, so she had been getting irritated just as he had been. The Dwarf did not dare speak, knowing he was treading deep water with Lyavain as his only escape. There was a moment of silence before she started moving forward again.
"I have not eaten since our second to last camp. That makes five days for me, Dwarf. Complain again, and I'll have your tongue." She warned with a slight growl, only to the mind of Gimli. Though he seldom accepted defeat, he knew there would be no chance at victory against a hungry wolf. It was better to simply shut his mouth and keep going.
They did keep going, in fact their speed quickened with the anticipation of seeing lost friends. Though finally Fëa kicked Gimli off to run on his own; which at first he was happy about, but soon the complaints started again. She lived for the silent evening runs, the times where she ran next to her king. The soft fleeting conversations they shared in their minds brought both comfort and closure between the two. It kept them on the same page, and it kept them both safe from any mental harm that might ensue. Their conversations were short, but it soon became clear that both looked forward to every word that was exchanged.
The rolling hills soon gave way to flat land, and it seemed that soon most rocks vanished as well. Few ridges gave way to the dry plains of Rohan. It was most clearly a peasant state; though they hadn't come across any towns or people she could tell this was the case. From reading stories it always came off like one. There were few cities, though many small villages. Honestly if she were part of the world of men she wouldn't be caught dead in a place like this. She would live in a world with trees and vegetation, in a secluded place away from humans of all kind. That was her dream land, a land that a wolf of her stature would likely never meet. Though perhaps if they succeeded in their task, once all was said and done and she was released from her duty she might make the journey to the Grey Havens on her own. Perhaps to Valinor, or maybe she would stay. Maybe she would watch Aragorn and Gondor grow wealthy and old, or perhaps she would travel to the worlds she had not experienced?. Maybe even travel to Mirkwood with its prince.
A shrill horse call caught her attention; she picked up Gimli like a wolf pup by the scruff of his hood and carried him to hide behind a rock. Legolas found this picture quite entertaining, but Gimli was clearly indignant until she dropped him behind the rock. When the riders were seen (removed the word "flying" from here) from over the ridge, flags of the Rohirrim could be seen flying above the horses in such a way that it shook Fëa's mind. She knew them, that flag and the rider at the head of the column. Long had it been since she laid eyes on the boy, but she knew him. She was about to go after the Rohirrim but Aragorn had other ideas. "Lyavain, stay back, don't come out until after they leave." Aragorn commanded, she obeyed though not without groaning out a snarl first.
"Riders of Rohan, what news from the mark?" He called loudly, striding out from behind the rock and showing himself to the creatures. Legolas and Gimli stood by his sides as they were swarmed. Lyavain didn't like not being able to see the creatures, her body moved up behind some of the riders, in attempt to hear.
She heard threats and snarls of anger erupt from both parties and at one point the spears were raised at her fellowship. There was a moment of silence before Aragorn spoke, though she could tell Éomer was unconvinced. Fëa's chest started to rumble, her hackles rose as she spoke in the language of beasts to move the horses from her path. They moved like the Red Sea split for Moses. Her eyes locked with Éomer, who seemed to look shocked at first before a wide smile spread across his tense face.
"Lyavain," he said, recognizing the creature the second he laid eyes on her. The men around him seemed to be effected as well by the presence of this beast. A wild expression crossed her eyes; she recognized most of these creatures. She had known them when they were all young, when she shifted with ease between forms, not caring who saw her wild bare form. In those days she had no modesty; it was about being childish and fun. The year she took off from watching Frodo, was the year she spent in Rohan.
"What brings you here my friend?" He questioned looking between the group and his classic friend, "do you travel with these men? Such a fair beast with these unknown? What madness had lead to this?" He questioned almost mad at the situation.
A wild smile crossed her wolfish face. "Aye, Éom long have I been at their side. We track a pack of Uruk-hai, they have taken two of our friends' captive." She said quietly, her lush voice danced through the minds of both man and beast nearby. She watched the expression darken on his face. There was a moment of silence between the two before Éomer sighed darkly, shaking his head before locking eyes with Aragorn.
"The Uruks are dead; we slaughtered them in the night." He said with a lofty glance around the faces.
"There were hobbits! Did you see two hobbits with them?" Gimli squawked almost waving his arms around like a wild man.
"They would be small; only children in your eyes." Aragorn entered in, sending a hot glance to Fëa. He was clearly not pleased she was there, but was glad she was safe and in the company of friends.
"We left none alive." Éomer said in a hushed tone, his eyes darkened hiding something that not even Lyavain could read. There was an uncomfortable silence that passed across the faces of everyone. The cold air brushed around them on the overcast day. Éomer called two horses over, but Fëa was keen on keeping the ringing in her ears. There was a slight whisper in her ears as she heard Éomer speak of hope. She needed to keep hope. She looked up at him as he bid her farewell and she tried to smile that wolfish grin, but how could she accept such a fate of her beloved Halflings.
She suddenly felt strong as she stood by the tall horses that were given to them. "That is where Éomer is wrong. Hope is what pushes this land to live." She said out loud looking to Legolas, avoiding the angered glare from Aragorn, who was angrier than perhaps he should have been.
(Aragorn)
When he watched her approach he thought his heart would burst with worry. Why had she never simply stayed put when she was told to do so. It was nice that they did not have to convince the marshal, but what if he had forgotten the beautiful curve of Lyavain's body. The gleam of her silk like pelt that sat proudly on her skin, and those beautiful oceanic eyes, a wild unbridled blue so pure that one couldn't help but be lost in them. At least Aragorn couldn't help getting lost in them.
There was an anger and jealousy that over took the king, not liking how "Éom" looked at Lyavain. Perhaps the wolf couldn't read the expression that came across the face of the man before them. She clearly did not, Aragorn knew that if an expression of such lust and love crossed his face Ava would have noticed the second it crossed its limits. He felt the sudden hiss of pain cross him, even harsher then when he found that all their tracking, all their searching for their friends may have been for naught. The harsh reality that he had been trying to escape had come burning into his mind.
He accepted the reins of Hasufel into his hand and stood for a moment, eyes locking on the location where the disgusting smoke billowed into the air. He could smell the burning Uruk flesh from their location, and was not looking forward to the intensifying of the smell. He climbed upon the mount given to him, and listened to Fëa's words. She was right, indeed. Hope was something that kept their world and people alive. There were so few reasons to hope left, yet many people counted their blessings. At least they were alive, at least their lives hadn't been ripped from them.
When they reached the pile of burning flesh his heart sunk, as he leapt from the horse and searched through the pile, praying he would find something in the burning flesh.
(Fëa)
Yes, to the creatures it must have smelled horrid. But to such a sensitive creature she could honestly say it was hell. Never had she breathed such foul breath into her lungs, she could say that honestly as they searched through the rubble. Gimli found one of the hobbit's belts, and she felt all of her hope suddenly fade. Even though she knew in dreams she would see them later, fate was changed so easily, there was a chance they could be dead. How cruel is fate that they were a single day too late.
She found herself dreading the fact that they could be dead.
Aragorn kicking one of the helmets across the field, letting out a cry of shear agony. She looked at him with sorrow that she knew. He was a man; he had felt he had failed Merry and Pippin on top of the death of Boromir. But something caught her eyes, Fëa moved forward towards something near the Ranger. She sniffed the ground where his knee rested. "Aragorn." She snarled batting him with her nose and pointing at the ground again. "Look here!" though she knew the human was pretending to ignore her, but he could not ignore this feat to attract her attention. There was a sudden breath that he took in as he studied the ground with his hands and eyes for a moment.
Then he started the reliving again. They found, they knew. He followed the tracks, putting commentary as he went until he came face to face with Fangorn forest. Staring into the depths of the dark shadowy place. "Fangorn…What madness drove them in there?"
Yes…what madness drove them to such a place…
†
I hope you all enjoyed, I'm pleased with how this chapter turned out. Hopefully my lovely readers will enjoy it too. R&R if you like peanut butter M&Ms or if you're a fan of Ireland! Both work for me! Bless your face, and I'm looking forward to seeing many reviews! Thanks guys! And triple thanks to Serrah-Angel!-Ze
†