Okay, I am so, so, so sorry that it took so long. Anyway, here is chapter three. I am running a busy schedule but I will try to update soon!
I own nothing but my ideas and interpretation of some of the characters. Everything else belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien and T. Peirce! Sadly...
P.S. Cookies to those who read and comment!
Three years have passed. Three extremely long, extremely excruciating and extremely demanding years that Gondor would remember to the rest of its time. The winter left it bare and fruitless; no food grew on the soil that used to be so rich, no farmers could grow even the bare minimum. The food storages were opened and rations issued. The next year was a drought; the wild rivers that usually ran like wild beasts suddenly shrank to small streams. Water was scarce, given mostly to the farmers and the soldiers. Finally, by the time the third year came around, the tired, weather beaten and nearly broken Gondorians were faced with the worst problem yet: the Dark Lord, Sauron, started to slowly try and take over the older cities of Gondor such as Osgiliath. The Orc raids started to become more and more frequent, the amount of soldiers required to stop these raids grew.
Denethor sat in the throne room, looking through yet another stack of reports that dealt with those raids. His brows slowly drew closer to each other, threatening to close contact right in the middle. He started to fiddle with the feather in his fingers, twirling it round and round, until, sighing, he dipped it in a bottle of ink and signed his name at the bottom. Then, quickly stacking the papers in a pile, he moved them to one side and looked up, his grey-blue eyes immediately finding the lonely figure sitting on the steps and reading a book.
Keladry was engrossed in the story of Hurin and his Children, the greatest and fondest legend of all of Middle Earth. She had read all the other books in the library and was trying to find something new when Boromir, who had stopped to rest for a few days before leaving again for one of the raided cities, gave it to her as a present. It was nothing special, just a battered old tome but she loved every single word inscribed in it. She had cried a few times already and had fallen in love with Turin. She wanted to see what would happen to him in the end and she read whenever she had a free moment, not noticing anything around her as she traveled across Middle Earth with this unfortunate man.
Denethor smiled sadly as he gazed upon the young woman that sat before him, her brown hair braided so that it would not disturb her as her light brown eyes gazed at the pages, watering as she threatened to start crying. The plain, loose blue dress that was on her now didn't fully reveal her figure, yet that didn't hide her beauty. No, she wasn't a beauty that everyone noticed, rather something that needed to be found. A small dagger, her dagger, rested on her belt but currently that was the only weapon on her. She almost always had her sword with her or at the very least some of the throwing knifes she became fond of; but never when she spent time inside.
During the four years she had spent with Denethor and his sons, she had transferred from the strange girl from some distant place into a young noble lady who would, in more peaceful times, been a gem in the Gondor society. Though she had continued her knight training and had became quite a good fighter at that, Denethor never let her join Faramir nor Boromir in any of the parties they led against Sauron's forces. At first Keladry resisted, threatening to run away or begging but once Boromir had supported his father and refused to let her come, she had to agree. Slowly, she grew accustomed to helping her adopted father to run the city and kingdom, visiting the hospitals to support those who were hurt, tacking food to the refugees. She became the symbol which carried peace and kindness while Boromir's heroic acts of bravery and tactics officially made him the symbol of hope and justice.
Kel gasped and her eyes widened as she read the end of the sentence. An involuntary tear ran down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away. This is what happens when you get attached to characters, she thought grimly as she blinked back more tears, you can't stand when they die. Suddenly a warm hand landed on her shoulder, making her wake up and look up into the sadly smiling face of the Steward of Gondor.
"Is it when Turin killed Beleg?" Denethor asked kneeling down beside his adoptee. She nodded and closed the book, bringing it to her chest.
"Yes," Kel managed after a moment. "I don't understand why anyone would be that awful to blind someone even for a second! It's so cruel! Before, when I was teased as a girl, I thought that that was cruelty and that I was thought that if I lived over it and made a difference, it wouldn't be that bad anymore! I was so naive! I can't believe how cruel Morgoth was!"
"Not only him," Denethor noted lightly. "You are forgetting the cruelty Sauron had demonstrated before and after he was destroyed and the Ring of Power lost. You are forgetting what is happening as we speak in the villages closest to border with Mordor. Cruelty is not the children teasing one another or the strong defeating the weak. That is nature. No, cruelty is what comes and takes the lands and lives and wills of those who have done nothing to anger that person, have done nothing but protected their families. Cruelty is what Sauron is as he attacks Gondor and tries to destroy everything you see."
"Then why can't I go fight that evil?" Kel's eyes blazed as she glanced down at the floor. "Why won't you let me?"
"You know very well," Denethor replied stiffly, standing up and dusting off his robes. "You know perfectly well that war is no place for women, no matter how prepared she thinks she is."
"I've seen death!" Kel yelled, jumping up and turning to her mentor. "I know that I can stand the sight of death! Please, you have to let me go!"
"No and that is my final word!" Denethor turned on his heels and headed back to his throne. Kel shook her head but sighed and started for the door that led out of the throne room. She knew that deep down perhaps her adopted father was right. He cared for her like no one else here. He protected her from almost all the hardships. He wanted her to be happy and yet, here she was, losing her temper about things that were in fact not that trivial. Letting out a breath, she stopped in the hallway and looked out the window. The landscape only wished for better, the grey sky blocking the sun's rays as the birds, those that were left, flew close to the ground in search of food. The white city lay before Kel in all its beauty and splendour, sending waves of peace and protection. To the South though, a dark red cloud was rising from the never dormant Bara-Dur. It made people shiver and gulp and it was what made Kel's heart freeze and become a stone.
Using all her inner will, she turned away from the window and shaking her head continued down the hallway. She stopped in front of the door that led to her rooms and leaned against the dark, heavy wood, resting her forehead against the smooth yet slightly bumpy surface. What should she do? She needed to get all of these emotions out before she faced Denethor again. And where was Faramir? Kel sighed and opened the door. Inside it was plain, but done with style. A bed near one wall, in a corner a cozy chair and a small fireplace across from it. Tall, slim windows that were the norm of Gondor, a large carpet made out of the fur of some animal lay on the stone floor. A small room which was the privy was separated by a door on the opposite side then the fireplace. A small desk sat near the windows and was covered in stacks of books, maps and drawings. Kel's weapons, all cleaned and well taken care of, hung on the wall, gleaming in a deadly way. A painting of two glaive warriors hung over the fire place yet Kel didn't have a glaive. No matter how often she tried to recreate her favourite weapon, it could only last a few blows before falling apart.
A hound jumped out of the chair and raced to meet her mistress. The hunting dog, a small grey thing, was a present from Boromir for her sixteenth birthday when Kel showed some interest in the hound hunts. When Minus Tirith's soldiers went out for a hunt, Kel would join them. To entertain her further, Boromir gave her one of the puppies to train. But that meant more to Kel. It didn't matter who he gave her, what mattered was that it was he and that she wasn't lonely anymore. Hoshi, or so Kel called the hound in the memory of her new mare that she left behind, ended up being Kel's best friend when neither of the young men were around. She accompanied her everywhere. And even now, she jumped around the young lady, teasingly grabbing her skirts and playing tug-o-war.
"Alright, I get it!" Kel laughed, placing the book on the table and giving the dog an affectionate caressing. "You want to go outside. I think that that's a wonderful idea and I'm positive that Zigzag would enjoy a run. Just let me change!" Smiling to her, Kel set about to get ready for a ride, changing the dress for leggings and boots, a loose tunic and pinning her braid up into a bun. After a moment of thinking, Kel strapped on a bow behind her back and grabbed a few of her throwing knifes, spreading them out so that she could easily reach them in case of anything. Whistling to Hoshi, she headed outside.
"Good morning Lady Kel!" someone else yelled as she rode down towards the gates. Kel greeted the young man with a smile and a wave. Everyone followed the young woman with their gazes as she, sitting atop a calmly walking mare with her hound at her side, rode down the main road. Some were brave enough to call out greetings but most just smiled. The children laughed if Hoshi stopped beside them and tried to run their small fingers through her fur. Silently, Kel hated having to move so slowly down to the gates and the freedom beyond but she knew that it helped the citizens if they could see and speak to either her, Faramir or Boromir whenever he was there. So, swallowing her discomfort, Kel smiled and held Zigzag back. Over the three and a half years that she had been ridding, she and the mare became a pair as great as Kel used to be with Peachblossom.
Finally, as Kel with her companions finally reached the last level of the white city, she let out a sigh of relief. Nodding to the soldiers, she pointed to the gate and raised an eyebrow. The captain smirked and shouted an order to open the gates, then strolled over to where Kel sat. Hoshi raised her head and then took off, jumping onto the Captain, nearly knocking him over. Laughing, he pushed her down.
"Some hunting dog that is," he commented, giving Hoshi a thorough scratch behind her hears. Kel laughed along with the captain as her dog's tail became like a mini propeller.
"She's a sweetheart at home but once we're out," Kel whistled. Hoshi immediately came back to reality, sniffing the air as she tried to see what her mistress wanted. "She's one of the best out in the woods."
"And so she should be," The Captain winked at Kel. "After all, you were the one to train her."
"Open gates, milady," a young soldier ran up to the captain and saluted to Kel. The captain nodded.
"Enjoy your ride miss. But be careful. No one knows where those foul beasts are any more. "
"I'll be careful captain," Kel smiled down at the man. He nodded once again and gave Zigzag a slap on the hindquarters. The mare lunged forward, Kel laughing as she settled into the energetic rhythm of a head-long gallop. Hoshi barked and raced after the two, ducking into the tall, dry grass. It was a contest of speed and both animals knew it. Kel just let them run.
The road changed into a path, the path soon came to the crossroads. Kel slightly leaned to the left without thinking, sending the responsive mare down the road that led to where Boromir saved Kel long ago. Zigzag effortlessly flew down the barely visible trail, elegantly jumping over logs and avoiding low hanging branches that could hurt her rider. Hoshi was chasing after small fowl but keeping up with the mare, her grey head appearing and disappearing in the tall grass. Kel herself seemed to be deep in thought, following the horse's movements without thinking.
Kel was remembering, remembering why and how she ended up in Gondor. Actually, she was grateful to have ended up in the white city. From what she had heard from the soldiers and veterans, Rohan was a place of horse lords where women could fight but never did, Bree and the hill country was taken by Rangers who were vary of all that were strange. No one knew much about the elves but it was said that they were in hiding and not a single human lived with them. Gondor was desperate of soldiers and help and so, even though Kel was a girl, she trained alongside all the men. Gondor had not only taken her in, Kel reflected ducking under a branch, it has also captured her heart. No matter how much she loved Tortall, the land that was now fighting a desperate and slowly loosing war had became far more special.
Perhaps it was the people here, Kel thought as Zigzag jumped over a small ditch, perhaps they made her stay. But she knew that was not true. No matter how attached Faramir became, no matter how much Denethor loved her, no matter how cold and stern Boromir was, Kel knew that none of them would hold her back if she wanted to go home. She knew that no one back in Tortall would have wanted her to disappear so strangely. Kel bit her lower lip as she thought. She knew that her parents would be worried though only privately, never showing their emotions in public. She had forgotten how to hide her feelings. It was understandable since no one else did. She knew that Neal and Cleon and Raoul and Dom would all be worried about her. She knew that and she felt horrible since she couldn't even send them a message telling them that she was okay. But deep down she also knew what everyone who hated her was thinking. They were saying that she ran away after being frightened by the weight of the training. They were saying she wasn't meant for the work. They were saying—Kel had to stop herself from giving into her imagination.
Yes, she missed Tortall and yes, she missed her friends but she didn't want to go home anymore. Her home was here. Here, by the side of her patron Denethor, sorting papers and visiting sick citizens. Here, near Faramir with whom they always got in trouble and yet were the best of friends. Here, with Hoshi and Zigzag, her ever faithful companions and silent friends. Here, with Boromir who was...who was he to her? A friend, an older brother, a teacher and a rival? A person whom she hated and loved at the same time? Someone who she owned her life? Someone she could trust? He was too many things; there were too many feelings that associated with him in Kel's mind. He just didn't make sense, none of it made sense.
Kel tossed her head in frustration when suddenly Zigzag reared, startling Kel and stopping midstride. Hoshi was by their side in an instant, her fur slightly standing up on her back, her teeth showing and her hunches lowered in preparation for a jump. Perhaps this is what saved Kel that day—her faithful friends. Maybe it was luck. But about 30 meters from them on the other side of the bushes, marching in semi-straight columns, were Orcs. There were maybe a few dozen but they all were carrying swords and shields and bows with massive arrows. They were grunting under the weight of their equipment but continued marching toward the river. Swallowing her surprise and fright, Kel quickly calculated where the Orcs were going. She had to bite her lip to stop from screaming with anger when she realized they were heading to Osgiliath. She was tempted to race out right now and take a stand with nothing but her hound and her mare but thought better of it. Leaning back, she forced Zigzag to silently retreat. Hoshi remained as the backup, still watching the enemy with eager, hunting eyes.
Breathing out in relief of not being seen, Kel snapped her fingers and sent Zigzag at a neck break speed back to Minas Tirith. Hoshi appeared a few minutes later, running at her top speed, her pink tongue hanging from the side of her mouth. The trio raced against time, raced through the trees and fields and grass. They jumped over logs and small streams, the wind blasting in their faces. They were racing towards the white city, trying to beat the Orcs and to be there in time to send a messenger to Osgiliath. Kel would never be able to forgive herself if she would be the one responsible for the fall of the ancient city. She didn't notice how Zigzag carried her out from the trees and across the grass back onto the dirt road. Somewhere near the horizon there was a rider, coming at a collected pace towards her. Kel didn't seem to notice that rider, leaning closer and closer on Zigzag's neck, forcing the mare to go faster and faster as sweat dripped from her brown hide. Hoshi was racing slightly ahead, her tail raised and her ears catching every sound in the wind. Seeing the rider in a few minutes, the hound yelped and bounded that way, her tail wagging like crazy. Zigzag seemed to recognize him too but couldn't stop in time and raced past, slowly lowering her stride. Kel cursed and turned around.
"That's not the most ladylike greeting you could have said," a familiar voice scolded, riding up closer towards her. "I don't know where you learned these words but I hope my father never catches you using them. He won't be as lenient as me. "
"Boromir!" Kel cried out, her voice a mixture of anger, surprise, happiness and relief. The tall man laughed. "Why are you here? Weren't you supposed to be out in the southwest border? What happened?"
"Keladry! Stop! I can't keep up with all your questions," Boromir shook his head. "I'm here because the guards were slightly nervous with you out alone and the Orcs so close. We just returned back from the border. It's calm there at the moment, therefore there was no point in staying. And as for what happened," the young man turned to Kel with a frown, "I think that it would make more sense if I asked you that."
"You won't believe me," Kel sighed, suddenly realizing how silly her story would sound especially to a veteran such as Boromir.
"Try me," Boromir grinned as both young people turned their mounts toward the White City.