Chapter 18
For a while Boromir and Mel traveled in companionable silence. Brytta was very well-behaved, keeping perfect pace with almost no effort from Mel at all, but it was easy to see that Deor was not happy with their brisk, steady walk. The black sidestepped and snorted, tossing his head in clear protest. Despite Boromir's efforts to conceal it, Mel knew it was all he could do to keep the stallion under control. Finally, Mel decided to take matters into her own hands. They were just cresting a hill and she could see a large rock formation in the distance right in their path.
"So, are we staying on this road all the way to Gondor?" she asked, casually.
"The Old South Road is the most direct route to the outpost at Halifirien," Boromir answered, his eyes firmly on the reins pulled taut in his hands, "We'll leave Deor and Brytta there, spend the night with the Wardens, and mount up with fresh horses in the morning."
"Well, we're not gonna make it if we keep this up, are we?" Mel asked, as Deor danced to the side and almost bumped into Brytta, who snorted in disapproval and delicately stepped out of the way, "Tell you what, see those rocks out there?" Boromir glanced where she was pointing, "I'll race you."
Boromir shook his head as he reined in Deor again.
"I don't think that would be a wise decision."
"Aw, you afraid of losing?" Mel said, winking.
"I don't think it would be wise for us to split up. This country is dangerous."
"Come on, I'm not saying we should race all the way to the mountains! It's not that far."
"Melody…"
"Too late!"
Mel let Brytta go and the mare shot forward, leaving Boromir's shouts of protest behind them. Mel laughed as the wind whipped her hair and her clothes. She leaned over Brytta's neck, driving her faster. The mare's gait was so smooth it felt more like gliding. Mel finally heard the echoes of a second set of hooves and glanced over her shoulder. Boromir was on her heels, Deor obviously enjoying his sprint. They were gaining on them. Mel leaned down and whispered in Brytta's ear.
"Come on, baby, we can't let them win now!"
As if she had understood, Brytta put on a second burst of speed. They flew up the hill and reached the cluster of stone, managing to make a full canter around the formation before Deor and Boromir reached them. Mel grinned.
"I win," she said smugly, "Better luck next time!"
Boromir pulled up next to her and grabbed her by the elbow, his face a mask of stone, his eyes glinting like chips of crystal. Mel swallowed, all trace of the smile gone from her face.
"Don't do that again." He snapped.
He was scaring her. She felt a flash of the fear she had felt in Lothlorien, when he had screamed terrible accusations at her, and she hated herself for it. She jerked her arm out of his grip.
"It was just a stupid race, Boromir. Don't be such a sore loser."
But instead of sounding flippant or even angry, the words made her feel small and timid.
Boromir pulled Deor around and continued on the road, Mel falling into step beside him. They rode in stubborn, awkward silence for several minutes. Mel kept her head down, tangling her fingers through bits of Brytta's mane. Finally, a frustrated sigh made her glance up. Boromir ran a hand over his face, and he seemed less like stone and more like a human being again.
"Forgive me, Melody," He said, "I did not mean to be so cross with you. But this is not a safe place anymore. If anything were to…"
He trailed off for a moment, and then changed his sentence.
"We shouldn't be separated, not even for a moment. It's dangerous."
Mel nodded, her fingers still playing in Brytta's mane, "Got it. Won't happen again."
There were just a few more seconds of silence.
"And besides, I did not lose."
Mel jerked her head up and stared at him, mouth agape. Boromir was grinning mischievously into the distance. Mel laughed.
"Oh whatever!" she exclaimed, "I totally beat you! You may not be used to the concept, but you definitely lost, buddy!"
"You cheated," Boromir replied, in a calm, rational tone, "You had a head start."
"It's not my fault you're slow out of the gate!"
"The oddities of your language continue to fascinate me, Melody. I simply cannot wait to introduce you to Faramir."
"And now you're going to make fun of how I talk?" Mel asked, "Some friend you are!"
Boromir started and then stared at her for a moment. Then his head quirked to the side and he smiled.
"We are friends, aren't we?" he said, as if the thought were novel to him, like it was something new.
It was Mel's turn to stare.
"Well… I mean, yeah. Of course we're friends."
Boromir nodded, still smiling, seeming quite pleased with the notion.
"Isn't that a wonderful thing?" He said, "That we have gone through so much, you and I, and still come out as friends in the end?"
This conversation felt like it was all over the map, but Mel was willing to run with it if he was.
"I think when two people have been through as much crap as we have together, they can't help but be friends," she said, "Either that or mortal enemies. And I just don't see me fighting you to the death, so I guess we'll have to stick with friends."
Boromir's face darkened for a moment and Mel had another painful flash of memory, her back in the dirt, his sword at her throat, his eyes glowering down at her, and knowing, with absolute certainty, that she was going to die. She flinched.
"Sorry," she mumbled, "Bad choice of words. I keep tripping over myself today."
The darkness cleared from Boromir's eyes with a shake of his head.
"No, Melody, I think it is I who should ask forgiveness," he said, "I fear my temper is a bit erratic this morning."
He turned to meet her eyes and smiled, as if to prove to her that he was alright. She smiled back, but she still felt a little uneasy. Something was going on with him, something weird. She didn't know if she would ever know what it was, but she wasn't looking forward to walking on egg shells around him if it lasted.
Boromir turned back to the road and changed the subject so swiftly it made her head spin.
"I am pleased that your skill on horseback is even better than you described. You were being modest when you told us that you ride only a little."
Mel took a moment to get her bearings again, and then shrugged.
"It's not a big deal. My uncle raised horses on this ranch in Montana. My sisters and I went to rodeos with him all the time when I was a kid, I even won a couple of trophies and… " She glanced up and saw the perplexed look on Boromir's face, "…and you have not the foggiest clue what I'm talking about."
He smiled, "However I have a long ride in which to learn. You know so much about me, Melody, but I know so little of you. If only there were a book that I could read that would tell me all about you, your history, your family, the things you do for enjoyment in your world. Like… how did you say it? Ro-day-oh?"
A bark of laughter escaped Mel involuntarily.
"Sorry, I'm sorry, but god you have no idea how many people would say that you just pronounced that correctly where I come from."
"However, I am assuming I did not."
"Well, if you were talking about a street in L.A. then maybe, but since there is no L.A. here, I'm going to say no."
"Now I'm afraid I'm even more confused. Is this an activity or a road?"
"Well, Rodeo Drive is a road in this huge, famous city. But a rodeo is a competition. A bunch of people with horses all get together and try to beat each other at contests. I'll have to show you sometime, I used to mop the floor with barrel-racing!"
"But you said that you had not ridden in many years. Why?"
Mel shrugged, "Well, you know, my uncle died and my aunt had to sell the ranch so that was it."
"I am very sorry."
Mel flapped her hand at him, "Please, it was a long time ago. It's just what happens."
"May I ask how he died?"
"Heart attack," she said, realizing half a second too late that she would have to explain, "Sorry. His heart stopped. Sixty-seven years old and his heart just gave up on him."
"So he was quite young."
Mel stared at him for a moment like he was crazy. Then she shook her head and chuckled.
"Damn, I forget that you people live forever."
Now it was Boromir's turn to look at her like she was crazy.
"Not forever, Melody. Only the elves live forever."
Mel rolled her eyes, "I mean longer than I'm used to. Where I'm from sixty-seven is… well, it's older anyway, maybe not old enough to drop dead, but definitely not young."
"I see," Boromir said, turning his eyes back to the road, "And, how old are you, Melody?"
"Oh no, we are not playing this game," Mel said decidedly, "I'm not telling you that because I know how old you are and how long your people tend to live. I would probably be considered an infant around here. All you need to know is that I am old enough to be considered a grown woman and perfectly capable of taking care of myself. That is where we will leave it."
"But by your own admission, that leaves me at a disadvantage. You know how old I am."
"You were born in 2978 so you're forty or forty-one, depending on whether you've had a birthday yet or not."
There was a slight pause. Mel took the time to quietly gloat over feeling like she finally had the upper hand in the conversation.
"I will be forty-one on the twenty-fifth of March."
Mel almost fell out of her saddle. Boromir noticed her falter and glanced at her. All Mel could do was stare. The twenty-fifth? He couldn't be serious! The twenty-fifth?! The day that all hell would come crashing down was the same day Boromir was brought into the world. God… the irony! It took several seconds for her to pull herself together long enough to come up with some kind of lousy excuse for her silent awe.
"Wow… That's like… less than a month away."
Boromir did not look at all convinced by this, but he nodded anyway.
"It is," He said, "But somehow, we have returned to talking about me and I would very much like to hear more about you."
Mel shrugged, still struggling to regain her composure a little.
"I'm not sure there's much I can tell you. To be perfectly honest, the last few months have really been the most exciting of my life and you've been there for most of it. Everything else kind of pales in comparison."
"Tell me about your sisters."
Mel grinned, "You wanna hear about The Twin Terrors?"
"They're twins?"
Mel nodded, "Yep. Couple of fifteen year old hooligans that tried their very best to make my life a living hell."
Boromir seemed to consider this information of great interest.
"That explains why you took so readily to Lord Elrond's sons, and they to you."
Mel shrugged sheepishly, a fond smile somehow finding it's way onto her face.
"I don't know about that. But they did remind me of Terri and Mattie sometimes. Guess twins are twins, no matter what universe you're living in."
"All siblings can be quite a handful."
Mel rolled her eyes.
"Please, you have one. Multiply Faramir by at least four and you might have an approximation of how bad I had it growing up."
Boromir was grinning fondly into the distance.
"Clearly you don't know all of my history, or you would never say such a thing," Boromir said wistfully, "When Faramir was young, he and I got into a fair amount of trouble, you know."
"Now those are some stories I would love to hear," Mel said eagerly, hoping he might run with the hint and launch into some long story about his childhood. Boromir glanced over at her and smirked.
"We are not discussing me right now. We are discussing you."
Mel sighed. She should have known better, but it was worth a shot.
"You really don't get it, I'm so boring!"
"You are not in the least bit boring to me, Melody." Mel rolled her eyes, but Boromir ignored her, "Where do you and your family live?"
Apparently, there was no deterring him. She would just have to grit her teeth and bear it.
"My mom and my sisters live in this little house on the side of a mountain. Middle of nowhere. Mom likes it that way, closer to nature, serenity and all that. I live in a city now though. Apparently, I like being in the middle of things."
There an almost unnoticeable pause. When Boromir next spoke his voice had the barest hint of a chill.
"And how long have you been married?"
Mel jerked and nearly lost her seat again. Brytta turned her head and gave her a side-eye.
"What?" Mel squeaked, pulling herself back upright.
"You said you no longer live with your family. I assume then that you are married."
Mel opened and closed her mouth a few times, just staring at him. His face was completely impassive, no emotion evident, but his voice was definitely distant. Wasn't it? Was… Was he actually upset? No, no way, she was making things up, imagining things. Even if it were true, why would he…? No, she was definitely making it up.
"No Boromir, I'm not married," she said, "I just live by myself."
He stared at her, his emotionless expression replaced by shock.
"You live alone?" he asked, "What if something were to happen? What if you were attacked? Who would protect you?"
"I live in a…" Mel tried to think of a simple way to explain an apartment, "…in a building with a lot of other people. We have our own little rooms and kitchens and things, but we're all in the same place. I know a few of my neighbors and they're good people. I don't think anything would happen to me. Besides, lots of women live alone where I come from."
They rode in silence for a few minutes as Boromir carefully processed this information. Finally he just shook his head.
"You come from a very strange place, Melody. It seems so unusual to me that your family would not continue to take care of you until you were married. Why would they put you out into the world alone?"
"Boromir, they didn't put me out. I moved out. I chose to leave and live by myself."
"Why would you do such a thing?"
"Because I wanted to know that I could," She said, "I wanted to know that I could take care of myself and be okay."
Out of the corner of her eye she saw the hint of a smile tug once more on Boromir's lips.
"Yes, I suppose after all that I've seen of you, I should have expected something like that. You certainly don't adhere to traditional roles as I know them, Melody. And I expect that is precisely what you like to hear."
Mel grinned broadly, "See? You don't need to hear about my boring old life. You already know me!"
There was a moment of silence and Mel waited to hear what Boromir's next question would be. When nothing came, she looked up and caught him staring at her with a strange, sad look in his eyes.
"What?" she asked.
"You must miss them very much."
At that precise moment, a tsunami-like wave of homesickness washed over her, sucking the breath from her lungs. She did. She did miss them, all of them, her mother, her father, her sisters, even her crazy neighbor who played jazz at two in the morning. She missed every single one of them. Her vision blurred and she jerked her face away from him, scrubbing at her eyes furiously to clear away the tears. The horses had slowed to a stroll. A hand brushed her arm.
"I'm sorry, Melody," Boromir murmured, "I did not think…"
"No, it's okay," She said, sniffing and wiping at her nose, "I'll be alright. I just haven't really had a chance to think about it in awhile."
That wasn't entirely true, but she didn't want to remember the last time she'd thought about her family. A shiver crawled down her back, flashes of nightmares in the dark. She took a deep breath and composed herself before she turned and gave Boromir what she hoped was a radiant smile.
"We need to pick up the pace, don't we?"
Boromir didn't look entirely convinced, but he didn't argue either. They urged the horses into a steady canter and continued along the road, Mel being careful to concentrate intently on anything that they happened to pass. That included a lot of grass, a few shrubs, and the outline of the mountains in the distance. She worked to memorize the shape of the mountain range to keep her mind occupied.
The rest of the morning was quiet. They stopped for a quick lunch a little after noon to let the horses rest and graze. When Mel dismounted she could tell that she was going to be a little sore the next day. She sighed and stretched as she reached into her saddle bag and grabbed an apple and a few pieces of jerky. She eyed the food with a hint of discontent.
"I miss real food," She muttered as she settled into the grass, "Compared to this, that stew in Edoras was a banquet."
Boromir chuckled as he settled beside her, tearing apart a loaf of bread.
"It does get a bit tiresome, but we'll have a hot meal tonight at Halfirien."
"So what's there anyway, I mean, besides the beacon?"
"The beacons are atop the mountain peaks. But along the road directly below are outposts standing by with fresh horses for messengers. The men stationed there take turns climbing the mountain and watching for the signal fires. Duty is rotated, of course. Fresh men come from Minas Tirith regularly so no one need be too long away from their families."
"Have you ever done it?" Mel asked, "Worked at a beacon?"
"I was stationed at Erelas for three weeks, and stood with the beacon for five days," He said, his eyes growing hazy and his voice distant, "It is glorious up there. The clouds roll below you like a sea of billowing white cotton. The sun gleams in the blue, clear sky above you, reflecting off the snow-capped peaks, so bright you fear you might go blind, but you wish that you never had to turn away."
He blinked and returned to the present, smiling at Mel.
"You would like it, I think. Perhaps someday I will take you up there, watch you stand among the clouds..."
His eyes were soft and kind, and Mel had to turn away, forcing a grin and a chuckle.
"Is there anything you haven't done?" she asked, half-joking.
"I have never sailed the ocean."
The forced laughter died in Mel's throat, replaced with speechless bewilderment.
"But… How could you…? Your mother was from Dol Amroth!" She blurted out, "Her whole family lives by the ocean!"
"I was only able to visit once before she died," Boromir answered, picking at what was left of his bread, "I was barely five years old. I remember little except standing with my uncle on the docks, watching the ships weave and dip on the currents of the bay, and thinking that it was all so endless…"
He trailed off, his fingers pausing in their fidgeting for a moment. Then he roused himself and started tearing at the bread anew.
"I have not been back in over thirty years. My uncle and cousins come to Minas Tirith as ambassadors on occasion, but Father deemed it more prudent to keep my brother and I close to home, in case we were needed."
All Mel could say was, "Oh." It seemed so inadequate, but what could she say? She knew Denethor had been really torn up about Finduilas's death. And she remembered reading somewhere that she had always longed for the sea. Maybe Denethor blamed that longing for killing her and didn't want it to take his sons away. Irrational? Sure, but not impossible.
Boromir tossed the mangled crust of bread aside and brushed away the crumbs.
"Come, we must hurry if we are to be at Halfirien in time for that hot supper I spoke of."
"Is it much farther?" Mel asked, as Boromir pulled her to her feet. The mountains looked a little closer and the ground around them was starting to get rockier.
"No. We should be there before nightfall."
Boromir whistled, bringing Deor and Brytta trotting over. They quickly mounted up and were on their way in a matter of moments.
"Tell me more about your sisters." Boromir said, almost immediately after they'd set off.
Mel felt another stab of homesickness, but she steeled herself against it, rolling her eyes.
"I'm not going to get out of this am I?"
"We have spent so much time together and yet I feel I truly know so little about you, Melody," Boromir answered, "Is it so strange that I should be curious about who I am spending my time with?"
She sighed, "No, I guess not But promise me that I will eventually get a turn at this. There's still a bunch of stuff I don't know about you."
"I promise to answer any question you put to me tomorrow," he said, grinning mischievously, "Now, explain to me how your sisters were so much worse than my brother…"
A/N: For anyone who's curious and doesn't want to look it up, March 25th is the day the Ring is destroyed and Sauron falls. I don't know if that is Boromir's real birthday or not (probably not) but it sounded cool. I also don't know if he ever sailed on the ocean. I'm going to be taking a little creative license as I go along, but I will try to tell you what I made up and what is fact. If you are ever confused, let me know in a review and I'll clear it up for you. Tell me what you think! Thanks!