Hmmm... I don't really have anything to say up here...
The sun beamed down on Alarain as she opened her eyes. It blinded her and she had to close them quickly. Lifting an arm to shield her face, she breathed in sharply as pain shot through it and let the arm fall back to the ground. Propping herself up with her other elbow, Alarain sat up stiffly. She opened her eyes again, blinking rapidly in the bright midday sun.
Fayna had wandered a few steps away with her head drooping and eyes closed. Trying to get up, Alarain groaned when her leg gave way. She investigated, but could not find an open wound. I must have just twisted it, she thought.
A low whinny came from the horse when she saw Alarain sitting up. Walking over, she blew on her head in greeting.
"Hello, my friend," Alarain answered. "How did you sleep?" She knew Fayna wouldn't answer, but she was disappointed all the same when the horse stayed quiet.
Stretching to reach for the stirrup, she pulled the horse closer and used her to stand. When she was up, Alarain limped her way to the other side and carefully put weight on her bad leg. Pain surged through it, but she stood on it anyway. Placing her good foot in the stirrup, she managed to pull herself on.
"Let's go, Fayna," she whispered. "We've got to get out of this place."
Urging Fayna on, they were soon traveling at a steady canter. Alarain's head still bobbed with exhaustion and her leg ached whenever it was bumped, but nonetheless, she stayed awake to keep Fayna from stopping.
Cradling her injured arm and hand, she reached back and searched the saddlebags, hoping that Eowyn might have packed some bandages. Sure enough, she found two rolls deep in the bottom. Ripping off a few pieces in her teeth, Alarain stashed the rest and wrapped her wounds.
The cut on the back of her hand was the worst, though it had stopped bleeding, mostly because of the dry blood that blocked it. The slash in her upper arm was not as bad, as it wasn't deep. Rolling up her sleeve, she wrapped that as well and glanced down at the white mark. Frowning at it, she drew her sleeve down again, not wanting to look at the scar.
Alarain tried to busy herself for the rest of the day, but there was not much she could do on a cantering horse besides think. And that was out of the question, as the only people she could think of, were either possibly dead or she was never going to see them again.
So instead of pondering such things, she began to count. She counted anything she saw. Rocks were about all there was though, so she soon turned her eyes to the sky and watched for clouds.
As the sun neared the horizon that evening, the horse and rider came across a dip in the ground with some boulders at the edge. Deciding to make camp there, Alarain turned Fayna and they trudged down the slope. At the bottom, she climbed to the ground and was happy to find her leg was feeling better. It was still sore and she was still limping, but she could put weight on it without having to grit her teeth.
Searching the saddlebags again, Alarain's mood fell when she realized she was almost out of water. Taking a small sip, she placed it back in carefully, making sure it was securely closed.
Startled at a sudden warning neigh from Fayna, Alarain whipped around and gulped. She was in no condition to fight, and yet there, coming down the slope, was an orc. When no others followed, her hopes rose slightly.
"What's this?" the beast said, showing a rotting grin. "I thought I smelled something tasty over here." It licked its lips in anticipation and looked over her shoulder. "You've got a horse too. I'm gonna be eating good tonight!" Grinding her teeth together as she withdrew her sword, Alarain only glared in response. "Gonna put up a little fight, are we?" the orc snarled again. "Good. I like my food feisty!"
Letting out a yell, Alarain swung and missed by a lot as the orc dodged and laughed mockingly. All of a sudden, it leapt forward and brought down its blade across her face. Screaming as the sword sliced into her skin, Alarain swung again, blindly this time as blood blocked one eye. A kick to her stomach sent her falling on her back and she glanced up to see the orc was not advancing. It was waiting for her to get up again.
Lying still, she pretended to have blacked out. The orc growled and stalked forward, leaning over her and frowning. "What's the matter with you? Get up!"
It took her chin and moved her head roughly, grumbling when she kept her good eye closed. Her other eye wasn't going to open any time soon, so she didn't have to worry about that.
Taking the orc by surprise, Alarain launched up and kicked him away. She was on him before he could register what happened and soon he was the one lying still.
Collapsing back on her knees, the woman sat there for a moment before her eye began to burn. Carefully touching the blood covered eye, she winced. Fayna rumbled nervously nearby and she called to her. The horse came slowly and reluctantly, but walked to stand beside her all the same.
"I'm afraid I'll be needing those bandages again, Fayna," Alarain said quietly, in too much pain to speak any louder.
Her eye was killing her by the time she stumbled to the horse's side and brought out the cloth with shaking hands. Crouching down again, she took her sword and cut a piece of her cloak off, almost feeling guilty for wrecking the beautiful Elvish garment. However, she had to do what she had to do.
Pressing a wad of bandages to her eye, she wrapped the strip of cloak around her head to keep it in place. Then, struggling to her feet once more, she mounted Fayna.
"I'm sorry, my friend, for pushing you like this, but I don't think either of us wish to stop again." And with that, Alarain bumped her mare into a trot.
They traveled all through the night, occasionally going at a walk so Fayna could rest. The horse was doing rather well for the fact that she was starving. All Alarain could do was hope to reach some grass soon, and get something in the mare's stomach. Eventually, Fayna refused to go any faster than a slow ramble. Alarain sympathized and didn't push her.
Her eye had gone numb only hours after they had left. She could no longer feel any pain and she feared that she might have lost her sight entirely in that eye. Only time would tell. Alarain didn't dare try healing with magic again, as she was worried it would make things worse. The White Hand seemed to be mocking her every time she lifted her sleeve to check the cut on her arm, and she would cover it quickly, blocking it from her mind.
Soon, Alarain felt her good eyelid begin to fall. Next thing she knew, she was in a dream. It was a terrible dream, filled with darkness and danger. She didn't know which way to run or where to hide. Spinning around, she gasped when she found Aragorn stepping out of the black. He was glaring at her, and as he drew closer, she saw the rage in his eyes. She backed away from him, begging with her eyes for him to stop, but still he advanced. Drawing Anduril from its scabbard, he raised it above her and as she turned to run, she tripped and felt herself falling and tumbling.
She hit the ground with a grunt and opened her one eye to bright sunlight. Fayna stood nearby, watching her curiously. Realizing she'd fallen out of the saddle, Alarain sat up and was surprised to find grass under her hands. Swinging her gaze around, a smile almost formed on her face at the sight of trees. The sound of rushing water came from nearby and as she struggled to her feet, she saw they were beside a calm, wide river.
"The Anduin," she whispered. "Oh, Fayna, you've brought me to the Anduin!"
Running as best she could to the river, she stumbled at the bank and fell to her knees. Bending down, the woman drank deeply and happily. When her thirst had been quenched, Alarain sat back on the grass and took off her cloak. She unwound the blood covered bandages from her hand and arm and washed the wounds in the water before re-wrapping them with fresh ones.
Cringing, she removed the strip of cloak from her head and carefully felt around her swollen eye. She soaked a wad of clean bandages with the cool river water and touched it to her eye, whimpering as it seeped into the cut.
Alarain lay back on the cool grass with the cloth still pressed to her wound. She let out a loud sigh and almost smiled when Fayna snorted back at her nearby.
"Fayna, my friend," she spoke to the horse. "What am I to do now?" The mare's only answer was a swish of her tail.
Opening her good eye some time later, Alarain sat up, glancing around nervously. Night had fallen and Fayna was nowhere to be seen. Fear grew in her stomach as she scrambled to her feet, moaning as her twisted leg decided to give her a rough time. She made a clicking noise to call the horse and waited. The only sound was from the river beside her and she frowned.
"Fayna," she called quietly, still scared that there might be something else lurking in the woods. Again, she was met with silence. "Stupid horse probably wandered off," she mumbled to herself, partly to calm her nerves.
Slumping to the ground at the riverbank, Alarain looked up to the sky to see the moon shining happily down on her. Her gaze dropped to the water and she gasped at her refection. The long slice across her face left her with a puffy black eye that refused to open and a malicious look about her. She stared at her reflection for some time as she felt tears begin to build. It stung as they fell from her closed eye, making her cry even harder.
A shriek rang out in the forest and Alarain jumped before relaxing when the familiar hoot of an owl came soon after. She still never got used to it though, and especially hated it when they started with that horrible scream. It reminded her too much of the Nazgul.
Turning her back to the river, she narrowed her eye to scan the underbrush, hoping to spot her horse. There was nothing though. She was completely alone.
Restlessness clawed at her heart and she took one more drink before she began stumbling upriver, looking for a safe place to sleep. It didn't take long before her legs began to shake and she had to stop for a rest. Her wounds had very much weakened her and she was relieved to find a small crack in some rocks that she could slip into. Soon enough, she was huddled into the small space and found herself drifting off yet again.
The morning found her staggering along the river once more. She soon lost track of time, but she did not stop as something told her to keep moving. She just needed to get away from Mordor, from the orcs, and most of all, from Aragorn. She couldn't face him. She needed to put as much distance between them as she could, as Merry had most definitely confessed everything by then.
Her mind seemed to fall into a trance as she curled up beneath the roots of a tree that night. And when she woke, she walked.
Aragorn's POV
It was late afternoon, and Aragorn was at the head of the line as they rode slowly to Osgiliath. In his opinion, it was much too slow. Merry had told him everything. How Alarain had healed them, how they had escaped from Minas Tirith, and how she was leaving. Eomer had also informed him of their meeting on the battlefield, and how she was already wounded at that point.
"Aragorn?" a voice said at his side, snapping him out of his pondering. He turned to see Boromir watching him intently. "I've left you to your thoughts long enough. What do you plan on doing?"
Avoiding his friend's gaze, he looked ahead, staying silent for a moment. He knew what Boromir spoke of. Letting out a deep sigh, he glanced over again and shook his head. "I have not decided," was his only answer.
Boromir slowed his horse again and exchanged a worried glance with Legolas and Gimli, who rode just behind them.
Shifting in Brego's saddle, Aragorn frowned. He would normally have confided in Gandalf, but he was long gone. The Eagles had flown him into Mordor to search for Frodo and Sam, and even if they had found them, he would not know. The wizard had planned to take them straight back to Minas Tirith.
It was only when the army had stopped for the night and all was quiet when the ranger went in search of his companions. He found Legolas and his dwarf friend and bid them follow him as he spotted Boromir and Eomer sitting around a fire close by.
"I've made up my mind," he said quietly, not wanting anyone else asking questions.
"Yes?" Gimli asked impatiently as they all leaned forward. Well, Boromir and Legolas did. Eomer however, was not so concerned with the matter, though he listened politely all the same.
"I will come as far as Osgiliath, but from there," he turned to Boromir. "I would ask you to lead the soldiers back to Minas Tirith. I will be turning back to search for her."
"Alone?" Legolas asked.
His ranger friend answered with a nod. "There's no reason for anyone else to come. I can travel best on my own."
"Very well," the elf nodded as the others agreed.
With that done, Aragorn strode quietly away, his dark shape melting into the darkness as he wandered farther from the firelight and to the edge of the encampment.
Thank you for reading! I don't know why I felt the need to say that, but it's polite! Plus I really am thankful!