Chapter 27

The silence lasted for the rest of the day. Mel was miserable. She barely managed to eat half a loaf of bread at lunch, the stony expression on Boromir's face made her stomach roll. But every time she tried to think of something to break the icy silence she came up blank. The truth was he had every right to be angry with her. She had played dirty, bringing up Faramir like that, but she couldn't exactly take it back. She really didn't know what would happen once she and Boromir reentered the continuity of the story she had read in her past life. The Valar had made it pretty clear that his very existence had upset the balance of life as they knew it. Sure, implying that showing up in Osgiliath could condemn his brother to death might have been unnecessarily cruel, but Mel had been desperate. How else was she supposed to keep him safe?

What about the siege of Minas Tirith? A little voice in her head whispered. How will you protect him then?

But she stuffed that little voice into the farthest corner of her mind and tried to ignore it. One crisis at a time, thank you very much. She would worry about Minas Tirith when they got to Minas Tirith. There had to be some way to keep him safe. There had to be…

Have her choose another to take his place… A life for a life…

The words of Mandos echoed in her mind and her stomach clenched. How could she be expected to do that? How could she choose to let another person die to save him? She stared at Boromir's back, stiff and straight in his saddle. He might be angry at her, but that didn't change the fact that she loved him. It was the reason for everything she had done, everything she had said. She loved him. How could she give him up now? Even the suggestion made her chest seize up. There had to be a way…

Despite her distress, Mel caught sight of the Wardens' camp at Nardol long before they reached it. This wasn't really surprising, since it was the first camp they had come upon that was not nestled into a grove of trees. In fact, it didn't even look like a camp. It looked more like a fort, standing against the side of the mountain, surrounded by a thick log wall. There was a guard posted on the wall, and as they approached he called down to someone inside and the gate swung open for them. There were a couple of bushes tucked into the crevices of the mountainside and a few small trees scattered in the camp itself, but it was not nearly what could be called a forest. Mel tried her best to suppress any uneasiness, but she felt the absence of the forest keenly.

They stopped just inside the gate and a handsome young man with fair, shoulder-length hair and a bright grin came out to meet them. Mel watched Boromir plaster an incredibly fake smile on his face as he dismounted and clasped the Warden's hand.

"My lord Boromir, welcome," the young man said, "I am Vanion, Captain of the Nardol beacon. We received word of your arrival, but I admit we were not expecting you so soon."

"We made haste past the post at Min-Rimmon and stayed at Erelas last night," Boromir said, "It was perilous, but saved us a full day's journey."

Mel shuddered. Perilous her ass! More like scarier than hell, but she didn't say that or anything like it. She started to dismount, but as she swung her leg over the saddle a pair of hands startled her, gripping her around the waist and softening her descent. When her feet touched the ground, she was face to face with the young, smiling captain.

"Ah, the Lady Melody of Rivendell!"

To Mel's continued surprise, he bowed elegantly over her hand and planted a soft kiss on her knuckles.

"The messengers spoke of the young lady who has lived among elves, but they did not mention you to be so fair."

The captain gave her a charming half-smile and Mel balked nervously, barely resisting the urge to jerk her hand away. She was flattered, but she wasn't quite sure how to respond to Vanion's pretty words. None of the other Wardens had ever spoken more than a few plain greetings to her. She managed to return his smile as she gently removed her hand from his.

"Thank you, Captain." she said, trying not to sound as awkward as she felt.

Then, trying to find something to do so she could stop staring at him, she turned and pulled the reins over her horse's head. Vanion immediately took them from her hands.

"Allow me, my lady," he said, "I am sure you are tired from your journey. You may take your ease at the fireside if you like."

Mel's smile widened a little.

"Thank you." She said politely, earning another grin from the young captain before he led her horse away.

Mel glanced over at Boromir and wished she hadn't. His eyes were narrowed, but he looked away when she tried to meet his gaze. Was he still angry at her for what she had said? Or had she done something else now? She wondered if she'd committed some kind of faux-pas, but she couldn't think of anything she could have done wrong in the few minutes they'd been here. She sighed and trudged off toward the campfire, now purposefully avoiding his eyes.

The fire wasn't really a fire yet, just a pile of embers in a circle of stones. The sun was still shining and it really wasn't cold enough for it to be built up anyway. Mel sat down on a log beside it, but her nerves were too keyed up to sit still for long. The little trees and bushes within the camp introduced themselves, extremely honored to have her among them, but they were small and not very talkative. Mel was surprised to realize she was bored. This was the first time they had reached camp before sunset and there was nothing for her to do.

She risked a glance back at the men. The horses had been taken away and Boromir had wandered to the far side of the camp, deep in conversation with one of the other Wardens. Mel sighed again and glanced up at the log wall around the camp. It was about ten feet high and solidly built, each log fitting together as smoothly as pieces of a puzzle. There was a ladder close by, leading up to a long, narrow walkway where the guards stood sentry along the wall's perimeter. Impulsively, Mel decided to take a look.

She clambered up the ladder and stood for a long while on the wooden walkway, looking out over Rohan. The plains seemed to stretch on forever, the gentle breezes that ruffled her hair rippling the grasses below in waves. Mel pulled her cloak closer around her to protect from the chill. The land was pretty in it's way, but it was… empty, nearly lifeless…

"Does the view suit you, my lady?"

She jumped. Vanion had appeared beside her, watching her with an interested smile, waiting for her response. She turned back to the plains, tucking her arms more firmly around her.

"It's nice enough, but there's not much to it. Just grass and rocks."

She saw Vanion nodding from the corner of her eye.

"I'm sure you are ready to return to comfortable society."

Mel shrugged, "Yeah, I guess so."

In fact she wasn't really looking forward to 'comfortable society' at all. To her, that was synonymous with 'awkward' and 'terrifying'.

Vanion was still watching her with an open, curious expression.

"May I ask how you came to reside in Rivendell, my lady? Do you have family there?"

Mel tried not to fidget, her mind racing.

"No, I came there by chance and Lord Elrond took me in."

"So your family resides in Gondor?"

Mel glanced at him, then away again. He didn't seem suspicious of her in anyway, but his questions seemed to contain a hint of something more than idle curiosity. Or maybe she was just being paranoid.

"No." she said, deciding that short answers were probably best until she could come up with something better.

The young man stared into her face, his brow furrowed in puzzlement, and then some sort of realization seemed to dawn on him.

"Oh… My lady, forgive me if I've made you uncomfortable. Your family… have they passed on?"

Her breath hitched. Surprisingly, it was the best explanation she had. She was completely alone, with no family to speak of. Really, they might as well be dead. Was that what her family thought of her? Did they think she was dead?

She nodded slowly, not trusting herself to speak. Vanion tilted his head, still watching her.

"I am sorry, Lady Melody. We have all lost loved ones."

Not like me, Mel thought, her eyes sweeping the barren plains. No one's lost like me.

The captain abruptly changed the subject.

"Traveling with Lord Boromir must be very exciting for you."

Mel forcibly pulled away from her homesickness and tried to smile.

"It's certainly been interesting."

"He is one of the greatest swordsmen of Gondor. Has he taught you much?" Vanion asked, glancing down at the sword buckled to her waist.

Mel touched the hilt self-consciously.

"He tries. I'm afraid I might not be the best student he's ever had."

"Ah," Vanion said, leaning in and grinning mischievously, "But I doubt you are the worst, my lady,"

Mel started to respond, but something… strange flickered in his expression, just for a moment, and she forgot whatever it was she was about to say. She couldn't put her finger on what it was and when she blinked it was gone, but something had left an odd feeling tugging on the back of her mind. She pulled her cloak closer to her and glanced back at the cold, empty plains. The sun was beginning to set, turning the horizon orange and a light pink.

"They will be preparing supper soon," Vanion said, "Would you care to join me by the fire?"

Mel turned and studied his face for a moment, but there was nothing in his expression to suggest he was being anything but friendly to her. She hadn't seen much of that at the other beacons. It was nice. Mel returned his smile.

"I'd love to."

He led the way to the ladder and descended first. Once Mel was within reach, Vanion's hands found her waist again, guiding her gently to the ground.

"Thank you," Mel said, straightening her cloak and glancing up.

Boromir was watching her from across the camp, eyes still narrowed, not quite in a glare but nearly. Mel almost flinched away, but stopped herself. She couldn't continue to cower every time he looked at her. If he was angry, then he needed to say something, not just glare at her from a distance. Vanion put a hand on the small of her back and Mel jumped. He paused.

"Is everything alright, my lady?"

Mel looked back at Boromir, but he now appeared to be deep in discussion with another Warden. She bit back a frustrated sigh.

"Yeah, sorry. Everything's fine."

She allowed Vanion to guide her to a place by the fire and gladly accepted the bits of roasted bird (she wasn't sure what kind and she didn't ask) that he offered her. The captain didn't ask anymore personal questions, but he did ask for her impression of the other beacons they'd visited. She mentioned Anaril, the young cook stationed at Halfirien, and it turned out he and Vanion had trained together in Minas Tirith, which did even more to put Mel's mind at ease. She even relaxed enough that she laughed once, out loud, before she caught herself and glanced around nervously to see if anyone had noticed.

Boromir was watching her again, thoughtfully from across the fire, but when she met his eyes he looked away. Mel felt a little knot of guilt and uneasiness in the pit of her stomach. This was the first supper she had spent without Boromir next to her. And she was laughing at someone else's stories. She almost stood up and moved to be next to him, but she didn't want to offend Vanion. Besides, this was neither the time nor the place to discuss what was still on both their minds. It would have to wait. Mel pointedly turned her attention back to Vanion, pushing away her disquiet. At least he wasn't glaring at her now.

Mel quickly discovered that trying to actively keep up with the Wardens' conversation was exhausting. Everything was battle tactics and old war stories, but Vanion did his best to keep it entertaining, even if he was a little vague on the details. He could certainly spin a story, even from the most mundane of circumstances, and Mel caught herself laughing more than once as the night wore on. But despite her best efforts, eventually Mel's eyes started getting heavy and her brain fuzzy. She tried to stifle a yawn, but Vanion noticed.

"My lady, forgive me, you are tired. Come, I will show you to your quarters."

He stood and offered her his hand, smiling, and something in Mel's brain gave her a little nudge, trying to remind her of something, but she was too tired to notice. Whatever it was, it could wait until morning. She took Vanion's hand and let him help her to her feet. She thought she saw Boromir move out of the corner of her eye, but when she looked he was still sitting, staring into the fire distractedly. Vanion put his hand on the small of her back and Mel allowed herself to be led away. In the morning… Mel would deal with it in the morning.

Vanion guided her in the direction of the cabin farthest from the fire. There was one scrawny bush outside the door and some vines climbing the walls, but it still looked horribly bare. Mel suppressed a shiver. It was going to be a long, lonely night.

And then Vanion grabbed hold of her arm, pulling her into the shadows of the cabin.

"So," he whispered, pressing in close to her, "How does this work exactly?"

He was smiling again. No, not… not smiling. Leering. Mel's stomach lurched. That was what she had seen, up on the wall, the uneasy tug she had felt in the back of her mind. And she had pushed it away.

God, she was so stupid.

She tried to pull her arm out of Vanion's tightening grip.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she snapped, "Let go of…"

But Vanion only rolled his eyes and shoved her hard against the cabin wall, clapping a hand over her mouth and pinning his other arm across her throat. Mel tried very hard not to panic.

"I think you know exactly what I mean, lady Melody," Vanion sneered, "And if you think I'm going to pay whatever ransom you've set our good lord Boromir, you are much mistaken. I'm sure the whore of the Steward's son charges a premium price for her services."

Mel flinched and Vanion smirked.

"Oh, no one will speak it aloud, but you can hear it in their voices, in the words they do not say."

He pressed in closer, his voice purring in her ear.

"Why should Lord Boromir get to have all the fun? Selfish of him, if you ask me…"

Something inside Mel snapped. The power hiding inside her flared to life, reaching out for whatever it could find. The vines by her ear rustled.

For a split second, Vanion looked very confused. Then the crawling vines exploded off of the cabin walls in a flurry of green, tangling around Vanion's arms and jerking him violently onto his back. He hit the dirt with a dull thud and the scraggly bush took over, lashing out with gnarled thorny branches, grabbing at legs, arms, whatever was in reach. Vanion shrieked as the long thorns bit through his clothes and into flesh, drawing drops of scarlet blood. The more he thrashed and struggled, the tighter the bush held. Mel took a step and Vanion fell silent, terror in his huge blue eyes.

"Don't you ever talk about him again." she hissed.

A vine crept slowly up the line of his body, slithering almost snake-like, brushing over the pulse in his neck as it wrapped it's way slowly around and around…

"How dare you even speak his name?" Mel said, fists clenched to keep from shaking, "There is more good in his little finger than you have in your whole goddamn body and you dare… you dare to… Don't you ever, ever…!"

"Melody!"

Boromir's shout cut through everything, all the rage and fear shooting like sparks through every fiber of her being. Mel looked up. Boromir was staring at her, wide-eyed, along with all the other Wardens. Mel managed to take one deep, shuddering breath and slowly the vines and branches disentangled themselves from Vanion, who was looking a little purple in the face. He gasped and coughed as the Wardens closest helped him to his feet, but it didn't take long for him to find his voice.

"She's a witch!" He shrieked hysterically, "A witch of Morgoth! Burn her, burn her, before she destroys us all!"

He lunged viciously and Mel stumbled back, her legs like jelly beneath her, but Boromir was there, shoving Vanion back into the arms of his fellow Wardens.

"If you lay even one finger on her, I will cut you to pieces and feed you to the orcs."

Boromir's voice was cool and smooth as stone. Vanion stared at him, mouth gaping and eyes wide.

"But, you saw!" he shouted, gesturing wildly at Mel, who could barely stand. She was so tired. "You saw what she did, it was sorcery!"

"There are others who perform such feats and we do not burn them," Boromir said, his voice still low and steady, "Would you burn Mithrandir?"

That seemed to puzzle Vanion for a moment. Then his eyes lit up in wild realization.

"She's bewitched you."

He looked around at the other Wardens, his eyes gleaming.

"She's bewitched all of you! Break her spell! Break it! She will be the death of us!"

"Captain Vanion of Pinnath Gelin, you are hereby relieved of your command and ordered to withdraw forthwith to the city of Minas Tirith, there to be judged by your behavior and actions among your peers and commanding officers upon my arrival."

Vanion once again gaped as Boromir made this proclamation in a steely tone that allowed no argument, waving a hand in the direction of the Wardens closest to Vanion.

"Corudor, Luinmir, see that it is done. Have horses prepared and escort him back to the White City. He will not remain one more night here."

The two men supporting Vanion took a firmer grip on his arms. Vanion suddenly looked like an animal caught in a trap. He tugged against the men who were once his comrades.

"No, no you don't understand, she's bespelled you! You're all under a spell! Wake up! Don't let her control you! Don't do this!"

But the men dragged him away, still struggling and cursing and crying out. Boromir took a step back, shielding Mel from sight. She let him. She didn't want to see the damage she'd caused. She'd already seen it in some of the eyes that darted over her. Fear. They were terrified of her. She wanted to lean forward and bury her face in Boromir's back, but she didn't. That would only make things worse.

…the whore of the Steward's son…

Mel shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself, leaning back against the cabin wall. She was just so tired…

Gradually, Vanion's cries died away. The other Wardens slowly dispersed throughout the camp, disappearing into the night. Finally, Boromir was the only one left.

"Are you hurt?"

His back was still to her, but she could see that it was rigid. Mel shook her head and clenched her arms tighter around her. She couldn't stop shivering.

"No. No, I'm alright."

"Why did you do that, Melody?"

Words froze in her throat. She didn't want to tell him. She didn't want to repeat what Vanion had said, what they all thought of her. She didn't want to tell him that his men thought she was his… God, was that what they all thought? Had it been lurking behind every smile, every kind gesture, every friendly word? God, she was so damn naïve. How could she have thought they were just being nice? She buried her face in her hands, trying to hide from it, to make it disappear, to keep her teeth from chattering…

"Melody?"

She ran her hands through her hair and took a deep breath through her nose. Boromir had turned to face her, still waiting for an answer. What could she say? He would see through any lie she came up with. He was good at that. But God, she did not want to say the words. She crossed her arms and stared at her shoes.

"He…"

Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat.

"He just said some things that… well, they were… he suggested that… he thought that we…"

Her voice broke again as another shudder rippled through her. She cleared her throat again. Her face was burning hot. She was so glad it was dark, he probably couldn't see it. Just one sentence. She just had to condense it into one goddamn sentence…

"He thought I was free for the taking. Now he knows I'm not."

There was a long silence. After several seconds of watching her boot toe drag through the dirt, Mel finally peeked up at Boromir's face. He was staring at her, his expression a mask of stone. It was a frightening face, a face that scared her more than any other expression he had. She almost wished she hadn't looked up.

When he finally spoke, his voice was leaden.

"He tried to force himself on you?"

Mel was too afraid not to answer, but she didn't think she could speak so she just nodded. Boromir's eyes flashed behind the stone mask and he took a step away from her.

"I'll be right back."

He was going to kill him. Mel knew, with a horrifying certainty, that Boromir was about to very calmly cross the camp and kill Vanion. She didn't know how she knew, but she knew in some unmistakable way and as scared as she was she couldn't let it happen. So just as Boromir turned his back to her, Mel blurted out the only thing she thought might possibly prevent Boromir from walking away.

"Please don't leave me alone."

He paused and Mel frantically scrambled for more words.

"I'm kind of freaking out and you're the only friend I have right now."

It was not a lie. Not even remotely. She didn't want to be alone in this place. After all, who was to say some of the boys might not show up and decide Vanion had the right idea? She didn't think that scrawny shrub and a few spindly vines would be able to keep too many at bay for long. The truth was, she was scared. And if her fear just happened to keep Boromir from committing murder, well, all the better. Two birds, one stone.

For one terrible moment, Boromir didn't move. Then his shoulders sagged and Mel let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding.

"I can't even keep you safe from my own people," he whispered, "I am so sorry, Melody."

She took a step forward, but made sure to keep an obvious amount of distance between them.

"It's not your fault Vanion's an ass," she said, which made Boromir start a little, "I've faced worse and survived, one measly Warden is nothing."

She managed a mostly cheeky grin. Boromir did not return the expression. If anything, he looked even more upset. Another shudder pulsed through her and she wrapped her arms around herself again.

"It's my own fault anyway," Mel said, turning away and staring into the night, "If I hadn't pissed you off to begin with, you would have been with me the whole time. None of this would have happened."

Boromir shifted beside her, but now was as good a time as any for an apology, so Mel plowed on.

"I'm really sorry about what I said, by the way. I was scared and I panicked. I don't know what's going to happen when we get to Gondor and that scares the hell out of me. I just…"

She almost said it. I just don't want to lose you again. But she didn't. She let the sentence trail off. Because there was still a small part of her that was whispering in her ear. You're nothing. You're small. You're insignificant. How could you mean anything to someone like him?

For a few minutes they stood together in silence. Finally, Boromir spoke.

"Melody, what you told me this morning, it was upsetting. But I had forgiven you long before we came into camp, only my pride would not allow me admit it to you. Then I saw…"

Boromir's words faltered, and Mel glanced up to make sure he was okay. His eyes were closed and he took a deep breath before he spoke again.

"When Vanion… took an interest in you, I was suspicious. I did not like the way he looked at you when your back was turned. But, you seemed… so at ease. I heard you laugh, truly laugh, for the first time in days and I thought… I couldn't take that from you. So I decided to let you be."

He looked down at her, his voice taking on a desperate edge.

"Melody, I swear on my life, if I had thought even for a moment that he would hurt you I… I would have done everything in my power to protect you. But he's a Warden-Captain, one of the most trusted officers in Gondor. I expect more of them."

The sound of horse's hooves broke the still night air and two men trotted into view, leading a third by the reins. Vanion, his hands tied and his legs lashed to his saddle, turned a burning glare on Boromir and Mel as he was led to the gate. And when the men paused, waiting for the gate to open, the young captain leaned over and spit viciously in their direction. Boromir's hand gripped his sword hilt, his eyes on fire, but Mel reached out and held his wrist.

"Don't." she said, "I just want him to leave. That's all."

Boromir nodded and released the sword, but his eyes burned holes into Vanion until the gates shut and hid him from view.

"If I ever see his face again…" Boromir growled.

For her part, Mel hoped this would be the last time she ever laid eyes Captain Vanion.