Chapter 23

Saruman had her by the arms and he was shaking her, his eyes glittering with rage.

"Lady Melody?"

She tried to wrench herself away, but the grip became more firm, the shake more palpable.

"Lady Melody, wake up."

"You can't save your friends. None of them! They will all die and you with them! All because of you!"

"NO!"

Mel shrieked as her eyes flew open and she bolted upright, sending the Gondorian Warden sprawling onto his back. She gasped in a deep breath of cool air and scrambled away from him as he got up and brushed himself off.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice hoarse, "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean…"

But the young man was smiling, waving a hand dismissively as he brushed the dirt and leaves from his trousers.

"It is I that should apologize, my lady," he said, "I did not mean to startle you. Only I saw you sleeping when I returned from watch and thought I might wake you before the others arrived."

Mel took another shuddering breath and looked up. The sky was still dark, but there was a faint line of purple just above the tree line to the east. She had spent the whole night out here. She ran a hand through her hair self-consciously to smooth it out and get rid of a few leaves that had tangled in the curls. That was one advantage of short hair. It didn't take long to comb through it.

The soldier was watching her patiently.

"You were dreaming."

It wasn't really a question, but Mel nodded anyway.

"Yeah," she said, "I do that a lot lately."

He smiled, "Many have seen dark times, my lady. You are not the only one who dreams of them."

Mel stared at him for a minute. He said it so casually, so easily, as if it this was a normal part of his life, nothing weird about it at all. He continued to smile while he helped her to her feet. Mel winced. Clearly sleeping outside on the ground had not agreed with her. She was sore as hell. The Gondorian looked sympathetic.

"I'm afraid you are going to have an uncomfortable ride today, Lady Melody."

"Yeah, no kidding," Mel quipped, and then felt bad about it. She was just grouchy from her crappy sleep and she was taking it out on this guy who was only trying to be nice. "Sorry." She mumbled.

But he didn't seem bothered. His smile didn't even waver.

"Breakfast will be ready soon, and then I'm sure you and Lord Boromir will want to be on your way. I will see that fresh horses are ready for you."

The man turned and headed for the horse shed, a spring in his step that Mel found almost repulsive. She limped in the other direction and practically crawled into her little cabin, sprawling on her bed and just lying there for a moment. Finally, she decided she should try to do some stretches, just to make moving a little less painful. She slithered to the floor and managed to pull up some foggy memories of high school gym class, what felt like half a lifetime ago. The stretches were painful initially, but when she was done, she did feel better, more alert and ready to face the world.

There was a knock at the door.

"Melody? Are you awake?"

Boromir. Mel had a flash of their talk from last night and she shuddered as she pushed herself to her feet. She really hoped he wasn't here to continue that conversation, not after she had worked so hard to put herself in a decent mood. She opened the door to a fully dressed and armed Boromir.

"Are we leaving already?" she asked, "We haven't even had breakfast!"

He grinned.

"No, we aren't leaving yet. I thought it might be prudent to continue your lessons in the sword, if only to keep you in practice."

On the inside Mel groaned, but on the outside she worked hard to match Boromir's grin.

"Sure, just let me get my stuff. I'll meet you in a minute."

After she shut the door she groaned out loud, but she knew he was right. She kind of sucked with a sword anyway, and this new sword from Rohan might as well be made of lead. She needed the practice. And even if all she did was get her ass kicked, at least it was getting kicked by one of the best. Surely she could find some sliver of comfort in that, right?

Unfortunately, that sliver of comfort was elusive this particular morning and she ended up dragging herself outside, lugging her sword with her. She swung it a few times as she walked, trying to find the balance she knew was the key. Elladan had practically beaten that into her brain, she could hear his voice like a mantra in her head.

Find the balance, vaethorig-nîn, make the sword a part of you, balance it with your arm, let it flow from your fingertips…

She swung again and bit back a frustrated sigh. Sometimes it seemed to be almost within her reach, but then her grip shifted and… nothing.

She spotted Boromir on the edge of the forest not far from her cabin, but as she headed toward him she heard something that made her stop dead in her tracks. There were men laughing around the newly roaring campfire. Mel stared at them for a moment, and then felt self-consciousness explode in her gut and seep into every fiber of her being. She tried to casually stroll the last few feet to Boromir without drawing attention to herself.

"There are people out here!" she whispered furiously at him.

"Of course there are. We are at their camp."

Boromir drew his sword and swung it a few times while Mel gaped at him.

"I am not going to humiliate myself in front of a bunch of guys I don't even know!" she hissed.

Boromir glanced back at the men, still talking and laughing in the distance.

"Melody, I assure you, they won't be giving the least bit of consideration to us. And if you are paying attention, as you should be, then they will be no more than flies buzzing on the wall."

"Easy for you to say," Mel huffed, "You know what you're doing."

"And so shall you, but you will never learn unless you practice. Now, are we going to waste the morning arguing, or shall we begin?"

He lifted his sword into position and waited patiently. Mel sighed and reluctantly raised her own sword. Boromir grinned and without warning struck out. Mel blocked, but faltered and had to step back to catch her balance. Boromir stepped back, swinging his sword absently.

"You are thinking of the sword's weight as an obstacle to overcome," Boromir said, moving in a slow circle that Mel followed easily, "You must change that mindset. Think of it as an advantage, something you can use, only you must discover how."

Mel listened but kept a careful eye on his seemingly lazy movements. This was another of Elladan's tricks, using his tips to distract her from his actions. But what Boromir said intrigued her. How could she use the sword's weight as an advantage?

She didn't have a lot of time to ponder it. Boromir swung at her, quick and light, forcing her to block and move. He attacked again and again, and she blocked him each time, but she couldn't find any opportunity to strike herself. She was spending all her time trying to get back in balance. And her arms hurt and her back hurt and she was tired, but Boromir bore down on her again and as his sword rushed toward her, something clicked. The weight of the sword! Her sword was heavier, if she could add that weight to her own…

At the last possible moment Mel sidestepped his rush and brought her sword down as hard as she could, letting gravity help her. She struck his blade just above the hilt, forcing it to the ground before swinging up to gently touch his throat.

Boromir grinned.

"Forfeit." He said.

Mel frowned and dropped her blade, preparing to lay into him for letting her win, when there was a whoop and a burst of applause. She looked up. At some point, without her knowledge, the Wardens had gathered around them and now they were clapping and cheering, with a few whistles thrown in for good measure. Mel could feel her face start to burn and she whirled around to glare at Boromir, who was still grinning like an idiot.

"I thought you said no one would notice?" she snapped.

He shrugged and sheathed his sword.

"Who am I to deprive my people of a bit of entertainment?"

The men crowded closer and started to chatter, talking about craftsmanship and sword-play and technicalities. But they all made certain to congratulate Mel on her "splendid win", asking how long she had been working with the sword and offering tips when informed of her lack of experience, most of which Mel was sure she would never remember. She managed to smile and nod, but all she really wanted to do was scream at Boromir. Not only had he let her win, but he had done it in front of a group of strangers. If Mel could have sunk into the ground and disappeared, she would have, but instead she was forced to listen to these soldiers go on about skills she obviously didn't have, silently fuming and biding her time. The second they were out of earshot of Calenhad, Boromir was going to hear it, in some of the strongest terms possible.

The rest of the morning went smoothly enough. Boromir insisted that because she had "won" the fight, he would prepare for their departure while she ate breakfast and rested. So she was left to eat among a large group of men she didn't know, who couldn't seem to stop telling her how amazing it was that she had beaten Lord Boromir, and how unusual for a lady to even carry such a well-made sword (which, of course, was passed around for all to see) and how lucky she was to have Lord Boromir as a teacher. She smiled politely and agreed to everything that they said, thanking them for all their polite comments and assuring them that it was really nothing, a fluke.

"Don't let her fool you, men," Boromir said, appearing out of nowhere and skillfully ignoring Mel's pointed glare, "The lady possesses more strength of will than you might even guess now! This is not the first time I have been bested by her. When first I challenged her, she had me on my back in mere moments!"

This brought on a flurry of surprised exclamations that Mel was not in any way adequately prepared for. And Boromir kept going.

"And though she was gravely injured she fought bravely deep inside the mines of Moria against more orcs than you could count. She saved my life that day and other days since."

He finally met her eyes and smiled.

"There is much more to her than what you see, gentlemen."

The group was silent and they all looked at Mel, waiting for her response, but Mel's throat had gone dry. Moria. She remembered the heat and the blood and the screams of orcs, the streaks of white-hot pain and the overwhelming fear. Mel shivered and dropped her eyes.

"Those debts have been repaid," She managed to rasp out, "I was no braver than anyone else."

She stood abruptly and walked out of the circle. No one tried to stop her, parting for her with a sort of reverent awe-struck silence. Mel went to her cabin and shut the door, taking a long, deep breath to clear her head. She wasn't just going to chew Boromir out. She was going to kill him. She took another deep breath to steady her nerves before she grabbed her bag and her cloak and went out again.

Boromir was on the edge of the camp holding two horses, a black with a white blaze and a blue roan. He smiled at her and she returned it, but the expression was empty and his own smile faltered. He casually handed her the reins of the black, but he was now clearly aware that a line had been crossed. He refixed his smile for the benefit of the Wardens close by, but his eyes were tense with worry. Mel felt no sympathy for him. Taurenil wished them well on behalf of the others, saluting Boromir and kissing Mel's hand, but she was barely aware of it. She was too busy planning exactly what she was going to say to Boromir when they were finally on their way. It was something along the lines of 'You're an asshole', 'I hate you' and 'Never talk to me again' with several other names and expletives thrown in for good measure. She was aware that most of her tirade would likely be incomprehensible to him, but she was willing to take that chance.

Finally, they were on their way. They walked through the trees in silence, Mel biding her time, estimating when they might be out of earshot of Calenhad. After what she deemed to be an appropriately long and agonizing wait, she opened her mouth to let him have it, but somehow Boromir beat her to it.

"You are angry with me."

He stated this very calmly, but it threw Mel off balance. She hadn't expected him to speak first. She closed her mouth and finally just nodded, waiting to see what else he might say, what his pathetic excuses might be, if he even knew why she was angry.

"I embarrassed you. I am sorry for that. I only thought to help you see those men as friends, rather than strangers. I thought if you could see their kindness…"

"They were only being nice to me because they felt sorry for me," Mel quipped, "Anybody with eyes could see that you let me win that fight. I just wish you would have beaten me honestly, it would have been a little less awkward."

"I let you win because you needed to learn something about your sword. It had nothing to do with those men and they knew that. Anything they said to you was said with sincerity, Melody, not out of pity. Women do not wield swords. Women do not fight. That you carry a sword at all is a feat in itself in their eyes. That you can also handle it competently is truly extraordinary. You'll recall my own over-confidence the first time we sparred together."

"If you're trying to make me feel better, you're not doing a very good job," Mel grumbled, "I don't want to be good enough for a girl, I just want to be good!"

"I know, and you will be," Boromir said, smiling fondly, "But you must have patience. And in the meantime, you shouldn't be ashamed of what you can do. Be content with being the best sword-maiden in Gondor, at least as far as I'm aware."

"And you didn't have to rub all that stuff in my face," She added, a little petulantly, "The crap about me putting you on your ass and Moria and all that. It was like rubbing salt in my wounds."

"I am sorry for that. I was trying to help them look beyond the surface, to see the person I see when I look at you," He dropped his eyes and his hands wrapping in the reins of the blue roan, "I suppose I went a bit too far. You must believe me, I never meant to upset you."

Okay, that definitely earned him a few brownie points. Mel's anger meter suddenly dropped from volcanic to nonexistent. She sighed.

"I know you didn't. It's okay."

Boromir's tentative smile made her heart melt to goo and she couldn't help but return the expression. Damn him.

Boromir settled his grip on the reins and turned back to the road, which was slowly coming out of the woods onto flat terrain.

"Now, shall we pick up our pace? If we hurry we will make Erelas by nightfall."

Mel started and searched her brain for a minute, confused.

"Erelas? Don't you mean Min-Rimmon?" she asked.

"There is not much distance between Calenhad, Min-Rimmon , and Erelas," Boromir explained, "It will take a day off our journey and I wish to reach Osgiliath as soon as possible."

"Osgiliath?" Mel squeaked. This was the first Boromir had mentioned of Osgiliath and it made Mel's heart jump to her throat.

"I have been hearing troubling news about the border protection there," Boromir said, a frown furrowing his brow, "I wish to see the situation for myself. But we must hurry, this is the best opportunity to save time. Come!"

Before Mel could think of a reply, Boromir broke into a canter, leaving her with no choice but to follow. She couldn't shake the feeling that this was bad. She also wasn't quite sure what she was supposed to do about it. If she said nothing about the impending fall of Osgiliath, then they would be walking needlessly into a bloodbath. On the other hand, if she explained the situation to Boromir it might only make him more determined than ever to go, to try to alter the events and change the outcome, especially knowing that his brother was among the men defending the city. But it really was hopeless. Mel knew that, their presence would change nothing, only succeeding in putting them in unnecessary danger. What could she say to make Boromir see that? What should she say… and what should she keep to herself?

Elvish Translations:

(all translations are Sindarin, unless otherwise noted)

vaethorig-nîn- my little warrior