Chapter 29

Mel had been wracking her brain all day, trying to think of something to say to Boromir, but she kept coming up empty. And of course, Boromir didn't seem too keen on helping her out. That morning he had seemed… dazed was the best word she could come up with, and for a little while it had worried her. But after a few hours on the road his back suddenly straightened and he had kicked his horse into a canter purposefully, leaving Mel scrambling after him. They hadn't spoken once all day, not even when they stopped for lunch.

Good, Mel thought, this is good. Distance. This is exactly what I wanted.

But somehow that didn't make her feel any better. In fact, it almost made her feel worse. Apparently, giving her distance wasn't difficult at all for Boromir. He didn't even seem bothered by it. She tried not to be upset, but it was hard when she felt like her heart was breaking. Obviously she wasn't as important to him as she had secretly hoped. She had at least thought he might sulk a little. Or maybe try to talk to her. She had prepared for that, for some kind of a fight. But instead Boromir seemed perfectly content to just ride in silence. So Mel shoved her cracking heart deep into her chest and put on her best blank face.

Several hours after their brief lunch stop, the soft green line of distant forest was probably one of the happiest sights Mel had ever seen. The forest surrounding Eilenach was thick and vibrant, and the trees seemed to have been waiting for her. She grinned at the enthusiastic greetings as she trotted beneath the branches.

"How did you know I was coming?" she asked cheerfully and an eager beech tree answered.

"Oh, Calenhiril, we heard the tale from the riders that passed last night! We have been anxiously awaiting your arrival!"

Mel's blood ran cold.

"What riders? What did you hear?"

"They spoke of the lady who had lived among elves and called on the plants to do her bidding! Oh Calenhiril, we knew it was you! But they did not seem pleased. Why is that, my lady?"

Mel swallowed, all trace of joy evaporated. She should have known that her reputation would precede her now. How could the men fail to talk about what had happened, about what she had done? It was too good a story to keep to themselves. Despite the trees' delight, Mel doubted that her arrival would be heralded as a joyous occasion for the people of Gondor. If the Wardens of Nardol were anything to go by, all she could expect was fear and mistrust.

"Melody?"

Mel jumped. Boromir's back was still to her, stiff in the saddle, but she was sure she had heard his voice.

"Perhaps it would be wise not to speak of what happened last night." he said.

Mel sighed and relaxed a little.

"It doesn't matter," she said miserably, "They already know."

"We can't be certain of that."

"I can."

Boromir finally glanced back at her, puzzled. Mel pointed to the branches above them.

"I had my very own welcoming party waiting for me."

Boromir glanced up briefly, and then put his back to her again.

"What should we say, do you think?"

The uncertainty in his voice put Mel even more on edge. She hesitated.

"I… I'm not sure," she said, "I guess as much of the truth as possible. That usually seems to work out for the best. If anyone asks, I'll tell them the truth."

Boromir paused, and then nodded. They didn't say anything else.

They were surrounded so quietly that Mel wouldn't have even known if the trees had not warned her. It was still full daylight and she could see no hint of the Wardens, despite the trees' assurances they were out there. For a long while they only followed, watching from the shadows of the forest. It made Mel jumpy, flinching at hints of movement and cracked twigs, until finally she got tired of it. She pulled her horse up short and lifted her hands to show she wasn't armed. After only a few paces Boromir realized she wasn't following and turned to stare at her. She kept her eyes on the forest around her, even as she spoke to him.

"They're already here. They have been for a while. And I'm tired of being followed and watched like some kind of criminal. I haven't done anything wrong. So I'm not moving until someone comes out and says something civilized."

That last sentence echoed against the mountain and through the trees before fading gently into silence. For a moment nothing moved. Mel gritted her teeth and resisted the urge to fidget or clench her fists in frustration. Her horse snorted and pawed the ground.

And then a man slipped out of the trees and drew back his hood. Mel stared at him in surprise. He was a mountain of man, with broad shoulders, muscled forearms, a thick middle, and legs built like tree trunks. His stern face was covered with bristling auburn hair streaked with gray, and even from the ground he seemed to be looming over her, staring her down with eyes of steely gray.

"I am Orodion, Captain of the Beacon at Eilenach. We have heard strange rumors of you, Melody of Rivendell."

"Now I never knew you to be an old gossip, Orodion," Boromir said, sidling his horse next to Mel, "Don't tell me you've turned skittish in your old age."

Orodion's eyes flashed and he tore his gaze from Mel to glare at Boromir.

"Now lad, don't you go thinking just because you've brought a lady along I won't still box your ears as I did when you were a child. You're still no match for me, I'd wager."

"Call out your command, old man; you know we mean you no harm." Boromir answered, smiling now.

Orodion's eyes flicked back to Mel.

"I know that of you, Boromir, son of Denethor. But the lady of Rivendell troubles me still."

Mel straightened in her saddle and was on the verge of a clever quip, when Boromir covered her hands with one of his own. The touch sent a jolt through her arms and she nearly pulled away, but one glance at his face stopped her. His smile was gone, replaced with a look that she had seen many times before. His face was stern and set like stone, a fire in his eyes. He was angry. Mel changed her mind, keeping silent and very still.

"I have vouched for her, Orodion," Boromir said, his voice level, but simmering, "There was a time when that was all the assurance you needed."

"Times have changed, lad," Orodion said, his eyes steely again, never leaving Mel, "Even the best of us can be deceived in a moment of weakness."

Boromir's grip tightened on Mel's hands. He was trembling.

"Who can we trust," he whispered, "If we cannot trust each other?"

Mel held her breath as Orodion continued to stare at her, searching her eyes. For a moment Mel met his gaze steadily, but suddenly she was being peeled away like an onion, layers of skin and muscle and bone ripped free until all that was left were her thoughts, open to the air, open to the world, and it was like a fire had been set in her brain. She sucked in a gasp, trying to breathe with no lungs, grabbed Boromir's arm in a flurry of panic, holding on as tightly as she could, Boromir would help her, Boromir would protect her, Boromir would keep her safe, please, please, please…

Then everything snapped back into place and Mel choked, coughing and gasping as she tried to remember how lungs were supposed to work. Boromir had her arms, holding her upright, which was good because Mel wasn't sure if she would still be in her saddle otherwise. She sucked a few gasping breaths, in and out, and the coughing stopped long enough for her to hear that Boromir was speaking to her.

"Melody, look at me, are you alright?"

Mel opened her eyes. The look of stone on his face had vanished, replaced by confusion and fear. She closed her eyes again and took a long, shuddering breath.

"Yeah," she rasped, fighting back another coughing fit, "Yeah, I'm okay."

"I am sorry if I frightened you, Lady Melody," Orodion said, drawing her attention back to him, "I had to be certain."

"What the hell did you do to me?" Mel snapped, her voice shaking. The leaves around her began to tremble.

"Melody, stop," Boromir said, his grip on her shoulders tightening slightly, as if he could hold her power back with the force of his will, "Orodion has… it's a form of Sight. But instead of Seeing the future, he Sees into the hearts of Men."

"Most people never realize," Orodion added, sounding slightly apologetic, "I can only assume that your own gifts make you sensitive to the power of others, something I have never come upon before. Had I known, I would have warned you, Lady Melody."

"He meant you no harm," Boromir added nervously, his gaze shifting to a point over her shoulder.

For a moment, Mel couldn't understand why he seemed so edgy. It wasn't like he was the one who'd just had his mind peeled apart and examined. Then she heard the murmuring and looked up. The branches over their heads were swaying and trembling, and she could feel the anger of the forest simmering in her mind. Mel felt so tired, but she knew this angry display probably wasn't earning her any brownie points. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

"Be still."

She had meant for it to be a silent command, but the power in her chest bubbled over and the words slipped past her lips before she could stop them. The power left her in a rush and rippled out into the trees. The forest fell silent.

She resisted the urge to slump in her saddle, but barely. She was so very tired now. But she managed to sit up straight and open her eyes. Orodion was staring at her.

"Then it really is true." he whispered.

Mel nodded, "But if you really saw into my heart, Captain, then you know I don't want to hurt anyone. If I wanted you hurt, you would be hurt already."

As if to demonstrate her point, a tiny branch of the nearest tree curled over her shoulder and Mel reached for it almost absently, allowing it to tangle with her fingers. It felt like the tree was holding her hand, comforting her. Orodion eyed the gesture with an air of awe, but not suspicion.

"I believe you, Lady Melody," he said, bowing low, "Please, forgive my doubts. Allow me to welcome you to Eilenach."

As if they had been waiting for a signal, the other Wardens began to materialize out of the trees, quiet and cautious, many with hands on sword hilts and bow strings. They would never completely trust her of course, no matter what power Orodion had. She was still an unknown, a thing to be feared. Suddenly, Mel was overwhelmed by a loneliness even the comfort of the trees couldn't ease.

"If you will both follow us, a hot meal awaits!" Orodion said jovially, as if nothing unusual had happened, "The night approaches and no one is safe after dark."

Mel shuddered, and the tree in her grip shuddered with her.

"You are safe here, Calenhiril," the little tree whispered in her mind, "The men respect the trees. No harm will come to you."

Somehow, Mel didn't find as much comfort in that as she would have liked, but she thanked the little tree anyway. After all, he was only trying to help.

The Wardens camp was small, a simple circle in what appeared to be a natural clearing. A fire burned brightly in the middle of a ring of fallen tree trunks. Several men were already seated there and they all rose when the patrol entered the clearing, their cheerful faces quickly darkening into suspicion when they caught sight of Mel. She tried not to meet any of their eyes. She longed for Boromir's touch, even just a brush of his arm to remind her that she wasn't completely friendless, but no touch came. He remained a safe, respectable distance from her. Just like she'd asked him to.

Orodion barked orders for their mounts to be cared for and food brought. When Mel smiled and thanked the man who handed her a bowl of steaming stew and bread, he paused and stared at her as if he had expected her to be mute. Then he dropped his eyes and muttered something that might have been some form of "You're welcome" before shuffling back to the other side of the fire. All of the men had shifted slightly when she sat down. There was enough room on both sides of her that she could have reached out her arms and not touched anyone. She pulled her knees up to her chest and cradled her bowl of stew, huddling in on herself.

Boromir ignored her, deep in conversation with Orodion about the state of the country and the border patrols, particularly around Osgiliath. They talked about skirmishes and full-fledged battles and tactics. Mel sipped at her stew and stared into the fire. She had been starving before they'd reached the forest. Now she seemed to have lost her appetite. She listened to the murmur of the trees, but it did nothing to sooth her. She was alone in a camp full of people.

She finished her stew and bread because she knew she needed to. Then she pulled her cloak tightly around her and shut everything out, trying to look at the situation logically. She was lonely, but that was her own fault. She had lost control of her fear and her temper, and the trees had taken over. If she had kept her head, she could have fought off Vanion herself. But she couldn't change it now, so there was no use sulking over it.

She had also been the one to push Boromir away. Sure, it sucked, but she still stood by the decision. One way or another she was going to get hurt. Better now than later. Now she would have some time to get over it before war caught up to them. Maybe she'd be able to think clearly when she had to make the most heart-rending choice of her life.

A life for a life...

Have her choose another...

I am so sorry, child...

The words of the Valar rose up out of the dark. Who would Mandos choose for her? Could she purposefully send someone to their death? The thought made her feel sick. She was going to have to kill someone, someone with a family and people that loved them. A life for a life.

Mel felt a tingle in her chest and she jerked upright. Orodion was staring at her across the fire. She looked around. All the other men were gone. How long had she sat there, just staring into nothingness? Where was Boromir? Had he already gone to bed?

"He wanted to take a watch on the border," Orodion said, still watching her closely, "His mind was troubled. He wished to be alone with his thoughts. I obliged him. It's been some time since there was anything I could oblige him with."

"I thought you just read hearts, not minds." Mel said, only half-joking. If he was telepathic, she was in trouble. She had never heard of telepathy in Tolkien's books, but she was slowly starting to get the impression that in this crazy world, anything was possible.

Orodion smiled.

"I get impressions, Lady Melody, nothing more. And it seems to me that Boromir is not the only one troubled tonight. You carry a heavy burden on your heart," He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, "Are you so proud that you would carry it alone?"

"I don't have a choice." she said firmly, turning away from his piercing eyes.

"He would help you, if you allowed him."

"He can't help me."

"Why do you send him away when it is so obviously painful to you?"

"I don't have a choice!" she snapped, finally turning back and glaring at Orodion, "You don't understand anything!"

"You are right, there are many things about you that are hidden from me," Orodion said, tilting his head and still smiling as if she were some sort of delightful puzzle, "But you love him, that much is clear."

Mel stared at him. God, was it that obvious?

"You love him, and yet you shield yourself from him. Who are you protecting? Boromir or yourself?"

His eyes flicked over her face for another moment, then he stood abruptly, still smiling.

"I will leave you, Lady Melody."

He pointed to a secluded little cabin in the far corner of the clearing.

"That cabin has been emptied for your use."

His eyes burrowed into her and Mel shifted nervously.

"Boromir's watch ends in one hour. I think it would do him good to speak with you. But you are free to do as you see best. Good night, my lady."

He gave her a quick bow and strode into the dark. Mel watched him go, then rested her chin on her knees. She wanted to wait up for Boromir. She wanted to talk to him so much. She wanted all the things she had said and all the things she knew were coming to be a bad dream, something she could just toss aside and forget. Why couldn't she have fallen into this world with amnesia? Everything would have been so much simpler. Then again, Boromir would be dead if she hadn't known to how to find him, to save him. And a little part of her still stung when she thought of her world without him in it.

Who are you protecting? Boromir or yourself?

Orodion's words hung in the air around her. She had been trying to tell herself it was Boromir of course, she was protecting him from the harsh whispers, the cold reality… but when she took just a minute to sit and really look, she knew that wasn't true. Boromir didn't give a rat's ass about what other people thought. He was the Steward's son for God's sake, he didn't need anyone's approval for anything he did.

And that was really it. Mel was protecting herself from him, from his position, from the inevitable abandonment that she knew was coming the second they reached the gates of Minas Tirith, the second his responsibilities swooped down and engulfed him in a cloud of better judgment. He would finally see what an insignificant speck she really was. And he would forget her. She would be lost in a world she didn't understand, thrown on the mercy of people she didn't know without a friend in the world, helpless and alone.

She wiped away a stray tear and straightened her shoulders. She was protecting herself. But she would protect Boromir too, whether he liked it or not. She would do everything in her power to make sure he stayed safe. Because she loved him. Insignificant speck that she was, she loved him and she would continue to love him, even from a safe distance. And keep that distance she would, because maybe if he forgot her from a distance it wouldn't hurt so much.

Boromir trudged back through the woods, his mind still tumbling. Melody's silence, something he had found merely a nuisance this afternoon, now troubled him deeply. She had been silent through dinner, completely unaware of anything around her. She had finished her stew and then pulled herself inward in a way Boromir had never seen before. She looked so small. He had fought the urge over and over to go to her, to at least attempt some form of comfort. That wasn't what she wanted, she had made it clear… and yet she still reached for his hand, held on to him when she was afraid. He didn't understand. He wished she would just tell him what was wrong, tell him how he could make it right, but he suspected it wasn't that simple. It was something Melody had to work out for herself. If she would only let him help her...

He could see the flickering of the dying campfire through the trees. A figure stood stiffly, light shining softly in brown curls, glinting off of gold thread.

Melody...

His pace quickened. Perhaps if he could catch her before she walked away… but she rushed off toward the row of cabins, her head buried in her chest as if hiding from prying eyes, her steps quick and precise. He slowed. She wouldn't speak to him tonight. He watched from the very edge of the woods as she slipped into the cabin on the far end of the row. Then he stepped out of the trees and followed her path across the camp, stopping just outside her closed door. She had told him not to linger here and he wouldn't, he would respect her wishes, but he just needed… He knew not what. He lifted his hand, brushing his fingers against the rough wood, and then retreated, his shoulders hunched. A familiar plea echoed in his head, a thought that he hoped would somehow reach her, though he did not know the way.

"When you are ready, Melody… However long it takes… I will still be here."