Deja vu. Major Deja vu.
I stared around, yawning, occasionally flexing arm or leg. I just couldn't get over this 'leather armour' thing. Around me, Elves were gathering, and somehow today I was a little less dazzled. Only a little less. Elves were Elves.
It did help that the dwarfs were also there, I thought quietly, shifting once more in the boots. Nice. Comfortable boots. Sexy boots. Well, okay, not sexy. But comfortable. Once more my eyes went from the dwarfs, gathered in a semi-sheltered area, to the Elves, and saw that they were visually separated from one another. Neither seemed to want to spend too much time with the other. In fact, I noticed as my eyes went past the Dwarfs, they were all packed and ready to go.
Must have only been here to farewell Gimli.
Frodo stood a little separate from the others, uncomfortable, back in those clean linen things. None of the hobbits in fact, I noticed, were really wearing any sort of armour. Swords, yes, but nothing else. Only the big strong men were bothering at all- both Aragorn and Boromir had the chainmail stuff under their shirts. And out of those two, only Boromir had good looking fabric, the kind of stuff I suspected belonged on someone with a lot of money. Did that mean he was rich? Aragorn, who was supposed to be some high lord or something, just had plain clothing. It was almost rougher than the hobbit's simple clothing. Older, clearly, with patches and some repaired tears. Funny outfit for someone who was supposed to be special.
Come to think of it... I didn't really know a lot about any of them, except for Legolas.
I gazed upwards, tucking my hands under my armpits, admiring for one last time the beauty of this place. Oh sure, I'd made fun of it and the elves but... the stone arch, the way the creepers grew across it, the trees healthy and without a mark on them, no illness, nothing.. as if the Elves had created this place in partnership with the trees, and the birds, and the animals, creating a safe place for all things to grow.
That was probably impossible, really, but it looked that way.
Lord Elrond moved out slowly, a smaller gathering of women not far behind, one of them with her eyes fixed on Aragorn. That was interesting. I had no time to ponder this, however, because Lord Elrond had started to talk.
"The Ring-bearer is setting out on the Quest of Mount Doom. On you who travel with him no oath nor bond is laid, to go further than you will."
His eyes scanned over everyone at this, I knew that, but somehow I felt this was directed to her quite a bit. I hoped. Some part of me was still uncertain about this. Still not sure about it... apprehension dogged at the back of my mind, like I already knew how fucking tough it'd be, even though it currently just sounded like a hike past a few baddies, to drop a ring into some lava.
I couldn't even understand why the ring had to be destroyed. I tried to look brave, fearless, swallowing, tempted to say 'Hey, actually...'
"Farewell. Hold to your purpose. May the blessings of Elves and Men and all free folk go with you." Lord Elrond waved his arms at us, dismissing us or something. I caught the movement beside her- Aragorn and Legolas bowing their heads, and suddenly wondered if this was something I should do. Curtsy or something. The moment had passed though.
Gandalf said softly, "The Fellowship awaits the Ring-bearer."
Frodo turned slowly, uncertainly, and so I took the cue and turned too. Did he know where 12 were going? I hoped so. But I suddenly felt kind of sorry for him, especially when I heard him whisper to Gandalf for directions.
The sense of deja vu held for a long time, right until they were up on the hill beside Rivendell, and I glanced backwards the second I felt the feeling of 'been here, done this' vanished.
Suddenly, I didn't know what the fuck to expect.
Suddenly, this was just an open road, a destination that was just ink and paper to her, a ring that meant nothing tp her, and a bunch of strange men. Elves. Dwarf. Hobbits. A bunch of people I barely knew.
"You will return." Legolas offered.
I nodded, faintly, and returned to walking behind the pony's bum. Bit her lip and wandered on, holding back the urge to ...what? Go back to Rivendell? Somehow, I knew I wouldn't be able to, even if I wanted to.
Besides, from now on, I had to be able to take care of herself. The last thing I wanted them to think was that I needed their protection. Clearly the only person who should be protected was Frodo. I didn't want to be a thorn in the quest. Or something like that.
Walking turned out to be not so much fun. I wasn't physically fit and never had I felt it so much as right now, after two hours of walking, three hours, up and down hills. I felt so subconcious, so self-aware of her own physical limitations compared to the others, that everytime someone glanced at her, I felt her cheeks go red.
Still, the longer it dragged out, the less dangerous it felt like. The sword on her hip started to gain weight. Her legs ached. Her back ached. Her knees screamed. A little river of sweat ran down her spine.
And it was just the first day.
It was mentally exhausting too. I trudged after the others, trying to find something to do, something to entertain herself with. Pippin and Merry, at least, kind of provided some help there. They didn't enjoy the long boring walk thing either. More often than not, I'd catch them trying to trip each other, or steal food from Aragorn's pack. They were pretty good at that.
Slowly, the forests beside the road became bare, and the higher they went up the hills, the less of the lush beauty of Rivendell could be seen. Soon it was only dry forest, no rivers in sight, and they started up hill.
And up hill.
And more up the hills.
I was already exhausted. And it wasn't even lunch yet.
By the time lunch came, I was buggered, and I flopped down next to Pippin and Merry, who looked equally exhausted. Lunch? Some bread. Then suddenly they were walking again.
Legolas just walked like he had gotten up. Aragorn? Boromir? Just as bad, though at least they weren't springing from rock to rock like a fucking goat, they were at least looking like they had weight. Gimili walked beside I as the afternoon wore on, panting a little, hand on his axe as he used it as a staff.
"Here." He said, very suddenly, and suddenly he'd slammed his axe down on something. The sudden sound made the hobbits flinch, as Gimli held something up for I. For the first time I really met his eyes and … he looked pretty nice, actually. "This will help."
I took the walking stick gratefully. He was pretty thick bodied too. I met Boromir's eyes, half expecting him to say something, but he just turned and continued on. Softly, I asked, "Is this all uphill from here?" The sentence was difficult- I panted a little, but Gimli nodded.
Bugger. The walking stick did help, the glove things protecting her hand from the rough wood, and I trudged on. I stank. Luckily- everyone did. No one seemed to have their pretty bath scents anymore. Only Legolas was the exception, as usual, only he seemed to be still springy and energetic by the end of the day. Her feet started to ache big time as I felt blisters grow underneath her feet. Luckily, this didn't seem to be just her, because all four of the hobbits seemed to be having issues as well, and all four of them had to deal with bare feet on rough ground.
As the afternoon dragged on, I gritted her teeth, but I couldn't deny that I was slowing down the group. Even the hobbits were doing better, more or less, except for poor Merry who seemed to have a nasty blister right on the edge of his heel, and when I'd caught sight of it, it looked like it'd popped already.
Ow.
The end of the day did not come fast enough.
It was well after dark before Gandalf decided it was time to stop and set up camp. Frodo, Sam, Pippin and Merry all looked as tired as I felt.
"Two months in Rivendel, it's no wonder we're tired." Sam exclaimed, flopping down beside Frodo, as Pippin collapsed beside him.
"You were there two months?" I didn't even have the energy to sit, not yet, I stood there numbly, leaning against her stick. The pack was so bloody heavy- I was worried that if I tried to take it off, I'd fall over backwards.
"Two wonderful months." Pippin leaned back, shut his eyes, only to be nudged in the side by Gandalf. "What?"
"You, Boromir and Aragorn are looking for firewood." Gandalf informed him. He may have as well said that Pippin would now be on a diet- the little man looked devastated by this news. "Go!"
Pippin got up, slowly, and trailed after Aragorn.
I finally managed to sit down, slowly, sliding the pack off once I was safely close enough to the ground. Everything hurt. Everything. Blisters, aches, muscles, and what I would have done right now for a hot bath. How much longer till they stopped going uphill, anyway?
"Some three day's walk." Gandalf answered her, before I could open her mouth, as he sat down on her other side. He took out a pipe and started to stuff something into the tip. "Have you had any visions?"
"No." Honestly, I'd had enough trouble breathing, why would I worry about visions? I shut her eyes again.
A warmth made her open them. I blinked. A fire? Had I fallen asleep? Someone was kneeling in front of her. Boromir?
"Wenduin, do your feet hurt?" He asked, very softly, dropping wood to one side.
Wow, this was another side to him, because he actually looked like he cared. I blinked at him as he went to take one of her boots off. I tugged it back by reflex. "Um, not so bad."
"Forgive me, for my actions at the feast." He leaned back, glancing as Gandalf looked at him, slightly sheepish. "The drink made me a fool. But your feet- if they are aided now, if I show you and the hobbits, you five may walk easier tomorrow."
I suddenly got it. Easier and faster. I had started to slow quite a bit as the hike dragged on over the afternoon, partly because of her aching legs, back, and even bum, but mostly because her feet had started to hurt.
"And," Boromir added, glancing at Sam's dirty feet, "Your feet may be nicer to touch during the lesson."
Okay, was that out of line? I wasn't sure. But I couldn't blame him for thinking that was true- four hairy dirty hobbit feet or her sweaty but more or less clean feet. Sort of.
"Let him." Gandalf suggested softly, breathing in a lungful of smoke, leaning back as he shut his eyes. "So that we may walk at a good pace."
Oh, yeah. I was already overweight and unfit. I nodded a stiff nod, cheeks reddening slightly, wishing like hell I didn't feel like I was holding the Fellowship back with her slower speed.
"They'll smell." I warned him as Boromir took the boot and gave a hard tug.
"No more than any other feet." Boromir replied. He didn't even blink at the stench from her feet, dropping the boot to one side, and tugged the other one off. He gazed down at the blisters. "You have done well."
He made it sound like I'd won a race, somehow, like he was almost impressed. I stared at the various large lumps and red spots. One was already on the verge of being white. Others were starting to like the idea.
Aragorn returned and started to stack wood, Pippin wandering behind him with a clear limp, a less impressive bundle in his arms. Pippin came to sit beside them as Boromir lifted one of I's feet.
"So what are you going to do?"
"We let the feet dry." Boromir explained, glancing back at Aragorn, who threw a small bag of something at him. "And, if there is a white part, we drain it carefully and wash it with hot water."
Legolas was watching too, I realised, with open curiosity. His feet were clearly perfect. I had a mad urge and stuck her tongue out at him, making him blink and look away.
"Then," Boromir glanced from I to Legolas, blinking, "I will wrap it when it is dry. Frodo, Sam, Pippin and Merry, you help each other."
"Do you have any?" I muttered as I watched Boromir run a rough cloth over her feet, cringing somewhat, half expecting him to say no.
"All of us do." Boromir didn't even look up as he started on her feet. "We have all been less active. It will take some days before our feet remember how to walk again."
"Except for the elf." Gimli muttered. He was tugging his boots off too, a stench far better than mine filling the air, and he threw them to one side. He too had blisters, to my relief, and a bad smell to go with.
The crack-crack-crack of a flame suddenly came from where Aragorn knelt, a tiny blaze in a pile of thin twigs happily taking hold of the wood, and Aragorn carefully arranged larger twigs and bits over the small flame. It looked like it'd be a nice big fire.
"We will not risk a fire such as the one tonight, once we leave the safety of Rivendell's outer borders. Take advantage of it." Aragorn was mostly speaking to Sam, I realised, he'd held out a frying pan to Sam who was eagerly standing up. "Tonight and tomorrow are the only nights we have a fire such as this."
'Such as this' was clearly turning into a very hot very bright fire, dry wood catching easily, Aragorn dropping a few logs over the still steady thicker branches.
"Yes, Sir, Mister Strider." Sam went straight for the flame and started to throw stuff into the frying pan. By his tone, I half wondered if he'd made a joke there, like he was teasing Aragorn about something. Maybe not. Frodo, I noticed, was sitting slightly apart again.
He caught me staring at him and his gaze went sideways pretty fast. Out of all of us, he might have seen the most tired, but he was pretty alert apparently.
Boromir surprised me by picking up one of my feet once more, I flinched as his hand got a sore spot, and he glanced up.
"Sorry."
"You say that a lot." I muttered.
"To you, it seems so, yes." Boromir agreed. He glanced at the others, at Aragorn in particular, as if he was tempted to add something else. Instead he just went back to the foot. "Hobbits, pay attention."
With my foot in hand, Boromir instructed them on 'propar blister care', and I sat there bluntly as my foot was gawked at. I had a tattoo on it, a little green fairy, which naturally became far more interesting to them than the blisters themselves.
"What's that?"
"Think that's a tattoo. But what's a lady got one for?" Merry stared at it and then at me. Maybe he was starting to think I wasn't a lady. I wasn't sure.
"It's a fairy." I instructed them. A little fairy. Tinkerbell. I blinked, as the story kind of dropped into my head, and added, "She's Peter Pan's fairy."
"Who?"
"It's a story. A child's story from … um. My land." I wasn't sure how else to put it. I didn't have much memory back yet and what I did know, mostly general stuff, did not fit this world at all. This world was like some alternative universe.
"A story! Can we hear it?" Pip shifted closer. There it was- that childish look in his face again. I actually felt myself smiling.
Boromir's eyes were fixated on me, suddenly, on my lips. He blinked as our eyes met and he glanced at the foot still held gently in his callosed hands. I had to admit, I had a sudden wonder about those hands, hands on thighs...
And Legolas's hands, smooth, and, his graceful strength...
Oh god, I really had turned into some kind of whore.
"After the lesson." Gandalf interrupted, softly, a warm smile on his face as he gazed at the hobbits. "Let Boromir teach you."
Boromir returned to it, using a sharp needle to pierce the white blister, hot water to clean the foot, clean fine fabric. He instructed them to wash it nightly, to dry it out, and to re-use it... we didn't have towns along the way to replace these things.
A simple meal of half a tomato, which was little and a bit bruised, some bacon, and some kind of mushroom, was offered around and we sat around eating, slowly, gazing into the stars above.
"I'll take first watch." Gandalf offered, as we wound down, the old man surprisingly the most concious out of the lot of us. I was increasingly starting to wonder what HE was. Human? Elf? Something else?
"Okay." Merry was already lying back on something. I blinked and remmebered. Oh yeah. I had a mat and a blanket of my own.
When I turned around, I saw they were already out, Legolas glancing up.
"You rest tonight. We don't need you to keep watch this night."
"You sure?" My words kind of slipped out before I could draw them back. Some part of me was happy with this. The other part didn't like the idea of being a ...useless ...member of this team.
"You have not the ears, the eyes or the hearing ready for such a responsibility." Legolas gestured to my 'bed' once more. I knew he was being practical but ...okay, that had kind of stung a little. I frowned and he frowned a fraction at my reaction. His eyes darted to my covered ears for a second as he asked softer, "Do you?"
"No." I admitted. Not that I was aware of. In fact, I suspected I'd fall asleep if I tried. "No, I don't think so."
"Rest, Wenduin." Boromir placed his hand on my shoulder. "Tell the little ones your story about Peter."
"Hey, we're grown men, you know." Sam protested from where he was already curled up. It wouldn't have been obvious right now- Sam, Frodo and Merry were already under blankets, curly haired heads poking out, Pippin halfway into his blanket.
"Your children must be adorable." I muttered. I could almost picture them. Tiny things with masses of curls and big eyes. Slowly I climbed into bed, careful, and tried to tuck the blanket in around my sides. It wasn't as cold a night tonight as it had been the night before, not exactly, and the fire helped.
"What is the story?" Pippin asked.
"Um. Okay." I tried to think. How did it go? I kind of remembered it. "Once in a city called London-"
"What does London look like?" That was Pippin again, and I heard him scrape over, until he was just half a foot away from my head. The other hobbits weren't far.
"It is-" I paused. Tried to think. "A very large city, larger than Rivendell, larger than any city you've ever seen. There are great buildings made of white metal, red brick and black glass ten times bigger than the tallest tree you've ever seen, a palace twice the length and three times the height of Rivendell-"
"-Right down to the river?"
"Right down to the river even." I agreed. Okay. Maybe this wasn't totally accurate. But I had their attention. "There's a river that runs through it."
"Is it an Elven city?" Merry piped up.
"No, it's a human city." I heard Gimli snort a little at that and decided to ignore it. Even Legolas seemed to roll his eyes... though, I suspected, that was a trick of the light. "So, in this giant city, there is a family that lives there. Mrs Darling, Mr. Darling, their three children, Wendy, John and Michael, and their dog, Nanny. All three children shared a nursery together with the dog, Wendy was the oldest, then John who loved to study bugs and nature, and then Michael, who was the baby of the family. Every night Wendy would tell them a story-"
"Like you are." Pippin offered.
"Yeah. Like me. She'd tell them a story about Peter Pan and his adventures. Sometimes she was sure she saw a shadow at their window, three stories above the ground where no person could get to, but when she went to the window she never saw anyone. One day, Wendy, John and Michael's aunt came to visit from far away and to watch the children while their parents went to a party."
"Does the party have fireworks?"
"No, it just has a bunch of adults standing around talking about work. Mr Darling didn't want to go but he had to. His boss was going to be there and he needed to get a promotion at work."
"What's that?" Pippin asked again. He was wide awake, turned towards me, watching me with wide eyed interest. "A promotion? Is it good?"
"It means he gets more responsibility and gets paid better." I explained.
He frowned at that. "Is that all?"
"Well," I made up quickly, "They were having a hard time. They weren't earning enough to feed all three children. So Mr Darling needed a little more money to feed all his children in this giant city. So it was important. Anyway-"
"Oh, I see." Pippin nodded in the light of the fire. He slid up a little, resting his head on his hand, watching me.
"Why didn't he just have a garden?" Sam cut in before I could continue. "So he could feed them?"
"Well, in a big city like that, there's not many plants. Just a lot of buildings close together. There's no room for a garden where he lives."
"There's not many plants in your world?" It was Legolas who's turn it was to inturrupt. He stared at me.
"Well, there are, but not in cities. Cities are buildings, lots of stone paths, and roads, and buildings. There's some gardens in the cities though. In special areas."
"Sounds like a dwarven city." Gimli spoke up.
"Interesting." Legolas must not have been impressed by this. He didn't sound it. He shifted down to lay on my other side, to my surprise, gazing up. He didn't sound impressed, just interested.
"Hey, there are still forests. In protected areas." I protested. Then again, I realised, there was less and less of them. Our entire fucking enviroment was collapsing around our great 'metal and glass' cities. I swallowed it away and tried to continue. "Wendy's aunt, an older lady, stayed there with them. That night, just as they were getting ready for the party, Wendy's aunt took her aside into a room with her parents and said that Wendy was getting too old to share a nursery with her brothers anymore, that she couldn't tell childish stories anymore, and she had to start behaving like a lady and not like a little boy."
"A bedroom, right?" Sam offered.
"Right." I nodded. "John and Michael were listening in at the door and were upset, and so was Wendy, and even her parents were surprised. So they went to their party, and all three children had to go to bed, knowing it was their last night for a story, their last night in the same room together. Wendy unlocked the window and told them about Peter Pan one last time before they went to bed. She told them she'd found the dog with something strange earlier. A shadow without a body. And when they were asleep she pretended to go to sleep too, waiting to see if the owner of the shadow would come back for it. No person could climb up that high-"
"Elves can." Legolas muttered softly.
"I bet I could too." Pippin agreed.
"-but if someone flew in, like Peter Pan could, then she knew he'd try." I tried to ignore this. "Wendy had just fallen asleep when-"
"Wendy!" Pippin exclaimed. "Wenduin. Wendy! This is about you!"
Oh god. "No, it's not, it's..."
"It is. I know it is." Pippin shook his head.
"You did ask me to call you Wendy." Legolas said softly.
Oh bloody hell. I decided to ignore it. "Wendy woke to a funny sound. Crashing, banging, someone flying over her bed, opening things. There was a boy flying all over the room like a bird, trying to find something. Wendy sat up quickly and stared around. It wasn't her brothers that were saying that. It was a boy, wearing a tunic made of feathers, and a funny hat on his head that had a big rainbow feather on it. He was darting around the room, opening drawers as quietly as he could, a little glowing light following him around."
Now they had quietened. Sort of.
"What was he looking for?" Merry asked softly.
"That's what Wendy asked. She said, what are you looking for? She guessed but she asked anyway. And the little boy said, I lost my shadow, and I can't find it."
"His shadow!" Merry exclaimed. "How do you loose that?"
It was a good bloody question. One I didn't have an answer for. So I just continued, "So Wendy sat up and told him that she'd found his shadow. She took him to a drawer and out popped his shadow. Peter flew all over the place, knocking his Tinkerbell into a drawer without noticing, trying to catch the shadow. Finally he got hold of it."
"Tinkerbell?"
"Tinkerbell, his tiny fairy friend, who was the floating light beside him. She glowed a bright yellow green. She wasn't happy about being knocked in a drawer but Peter was busy trying to attach his shadow to his feet."
"The tattoo." Merry whispered to Pippin.
"Oooh. Did he get it back?" Pippin yawned a long deep yawn under his blanket.
"He couldn't get it to stay attached to his feet and it kept trying to get away, so he sat down and cried."
"Cried!" Boromir exclaimed softly.
"He missed it." I muttered. "Just a child. He missed his shadow and he couldn't get it to stick to him again. Anyway, Wendy felt sorry for him, so she said, I'll sew it back on for you."
I thought I heard Gandalf snort at that. Hadn't he heard about shadow sewing? Probably not. I continued, "Wendy had him sit down and she got a needle and thread. She sewed it back to his feet and he had his shadow again. He was so happy that he bounced all over the place. He said that their dog had grabbed his shadow while he was listening to Wendy's stories. She told him there'd be no more stories because she had to grow up and move into her own room. He offered to take her away to Neverland where she'd never have to grow up, and she said she would give him a kiss-"
"Why?"
"Because she was happy." Pippin explained, as if this was obvious. He sounded so sleepy.
The sleepier I got, the more I noticed and got irritated by the sticks and uneven ground under me. There wasn't much, maybe a twig, but ...
"Tinkerbell did not like this idea and grabbed Wendy, before she could kiss Peter. Peter chased her all over the room and this finally woke John and Michael, who leapt up. Peter offered to take all three of them. But how would they get to Neverland? They had to fly
But I was tired, and although I tried, I felt myself starting to mumble more and more, my eyes growing heavier.
"Why did she want to grow up?" Pippin yawned.
"She didn't, Pip, that's the point." Merry answered before I could find some energy to re-explain that part. "So they don't grow up in Neverland?"
"Never." Another long yawn, my eyes shut, and before I could continue, I had slipped away into well earned sleep, the warmth of the fire and the others nearby with me. For a few minutes, anyway, because Pippin's voice woke me up once more.
I rolled onto my stomach. It was much easier this way to relax.
"What's Neverland like?" Pippin sounded almost asleep.
"It's an island. There are Indians, um, I mean, great spiritual warriors." That was a good way to describe it... right? Come to think of it... I realised I'd probably have to explain everything there. They didn't grow up with these myths like I did. Did I? "And mermaids, women with the tail of a fish, and there are pygmies. Like hobbits but very short men. Pirates, men who sail the sea, seeking ships to attack for treasure, killing anyone in their way. Fairies, that look like Elves but are as big as my hand, fly on butterfly and dragonfly wings, and glow. Great lagoons filled with bright birds. Animals that talked. Crocodiles. Castles, labyrinths, mazes, swamps, jungle, forest, an island that had any adventure a child could dream of." As I spoke, I felt myself drifting off, head on arms. My words were slow, relaxed, with the sweet scent of Gandalf's pipe smoke dancing overhead. "The sky is filled with stars at night, and even at day, you see some stars."
"Where is it?"
"Another world, far away. Peter told Wendy it was the second star to the right, and straight on till morning." It was the last thing I managed to get out. I fell asleep, curled up on my stomach, eyes shut.
I was woken later that night by a gentle shake and a hand over my mouth, probably hours later, though It felt like just a few minute's sleep. Legolas was shaking me awake, bent over, his face barely viable in the dark night. The fire was lower, cooler, just casting enough light for me to see a faint frown on Legolas' face.
"Keep watch with me." He said softly.
Oh, okay. That was a surprise. I blinked sleepily up at him, yawned, and muttered, "Didn't you promise me a night's sleep?"
He didn't answer or move. Just knelt there waiting. I frowned and slowly sat up, wondering if this was some kind of dream or something, but the ache in my muscles made it pretty clear that it was real.
We didn't go far, just ten or so meters from the campsite, and Legolas easily scaled a tree. He held down a hand as I awkwardly followed up after him. It wasn't that bad, there were branches, but I wasn't a monkey either.
I sat down, aching bum on aching branch, a little confused and sleepy. "So, you wanted me..."
"That story. Was that yours?"
I blinked at him as he sat there. His words, although spoken softly, kind of sounded loud suddenly. Instead of answering, I tried to 'keep watch', gazing out into the darkness. I couldn't really see anything.
"Wenduin. Wendy. You asked me to call you Wendy."
"It's not my story. It's not even real." I muttered. Something about this irritated me. What was it? Was it because I wasn't really sure anymore? Some part of me thought it was just a story. But then, some part of me wasn't so convinced anymore.
"Do you remember that?"
I scowled at his quiet question. Legolas, when I looked sideways, was looking back out over the land. Wind was playing with his long hair, his eyes staring into the darkness as if he could see every leaf, every twig, every blade of grass. The moon, not quite full, cast an errie light onto him and he almost looked like he was glowing.
He looked alien once more. Alien, beautiful, surreal. I felt gritty, earthy, organic, and he looked like he was from the Moon.
I had to admit, he was slightly good looking.
"Anyway, why does it matter? I can't fly. I don't know how to get to Neverland. I'm here." I muttered, tearing my eyes away from the Elf, back towards the darkness. A movement made me stiffen, but his hand came to rest on mine, squeezing it.
"Just an owl." He said softly. A moment later I saw it clearly too- a snowy bird, swooping gently across the grass, and back out of sight again. Legolas glanced sideways at me. "Is there really a place such as the city you described?"
"London? Yeah. I know that's real."
Legolas didn't speak for a long time. Then, finally, "How can you bear it? How can you live in that?"
"I don't know. Like I said. There's gardens. I can't remember what it was like where I lived. I just remember small things, other cities, other places. I just can't tell you anything about my life." The little girl popped into my thoughts again. Was she my daughter? Niece? Something important? "I don't even know if that girl is my family."
"Did Lord Elrond not tell you? She is not. She has memories of her own family." Legolas replied, sounding somewhat surprised now. He paused, his hand tighning on mine, which reminded me that he hadn't let go. Oh. That was nice.
"Oh, good." I'd have been a pretty pathetic mum- forgetting my own kid. Somewhat distracted, I didn't think about why he'd gone quiet and still, until he'd suddenly shot an arrow at something. I hadn't even seem him tug his bow out!
It was Pippin, sneaking up, looking like a startled bunny with an arrow at his feet. He had an apple in his mouth, hand still on it, eyes wide.
"What are you doing?" Legolas asked, a low warning in his voice, as Pippin dropped the apple back down into someone's pack.
"Just ...inspecting. The rations." Pippin stood up sheepishly. "I'll … be going back to sleep now."
"Wise idea, little one." Legolas didn't move until Pippin had crawled back into his bed.
I slipped out of the tree, slowly, and headed for my bed. I half expected Legolas to call me back, but he didn't, and I managed to crawl back into bed without any more questions.
This time when I slept, no one woke me, and I managed to sleep all the way through.
There were traces of deja vu over the next few days, sometimes, but usually there was just exhaustion. I ached. I stank. Blisters didn't care what Boromir had done- they were killing me. Pebbles turned into bolders under the boots. My legs ached. My back ached. Everything in me hurt.
Then, of course, I'd have to tell the story about Peter Pan when we'd sit down. Lunch, dinner, for the next few days, if I wasn't walking, I was talking. I dreamed of Peter Pan sometimes!
Still, there was moments of wonder too, like the ruins. They gave me a major sense of deja vu, those ruins, which we stopped to look at for a few minutes. According to Aragorn, they were the remains of an ancient kingdom of men, long gone now.
On top of that, Legolas kept giving me funny looks, especially when I mentioned stars or space. He tried to talk to me a few times about that but I generally avoided it, slipping away, falling asleep as fast as possible.
On the third day, I managed to finish the story, and I sat there exhausted.
"So, she never saw him again?"
"No." I muttered, standing slowly, aching from head to foot. I didn't know which was better. Standing or sitting. Okay, I wasn't the only one having a hard time. Even Aragorn looked exhausted and dirty.
He was standing with Boromir now, speaking quietly, Legolas some distance away gazing out into the darkness. Energiser bunny, that one. He stood on a bolder now, in the dark, the fading moon just barely picking up his light hair under a hood he'd slipped over it. Over the past few days the forest had vanished completely. We were now in larger grassy areas, bolders dotting the landscape, trees in small patches here and there. It was dry, quiet, and the weather had been sunny more or less. I'd noticed that the mountains drew closer, bit by bit, our path an endless uphill battle. Trees huddled around rivers, I guessed, from the way they were in windy patterns around us.
Right now, Aragorn had insisted that we keep things quiet, so the tiny 'safe' fire sheltered behind a very large pair of rocks. It barely caused any heat for the relief of aching muscles, to my dismay, but Sam had the bright idea of lining the fire with smaller flattish rocks.
"That way, we can use them in our beds." He'd explained brightly. It was a good idea.
"It's a warm night. Do you want a wash?" Boromir spoke up, his eyes in mine.
Did I! I'd sell my gemstone collection. Hell, I'd dreamed about dropping it, half convinced that it made my pocket heavier than it really was. Why had I packed it? Who knew. Maybe it wasn't the gemstones. I just knew that in the bottom of my bag was a small bag and it contained jingly things.
"Yeah, but there's no showers or baths out here." I muttered, eyes going over the darkening landscape.
"There is a river." Aragorn replied as he bent down to pick up a fairly heavy looking branch as thick as his wrist. With a sudden motion, he'd slammed the branch across his leg, snapping it in two with impressive strength. He repeated this, several times, and dropped them beside the fire. "Samwise, one branch, but not too soon. The fire must stay low."
"Yes, Strider." Sam replied.
"Can we have a swim?" Pippin spoke up.
"When Wenduin does, if she decides to."
Let's see, bath, or to stink. I wanted the swim. I could have drooled at the idea of clean washing water, seriously, even if it was a bit chilly. But... "No one's spying? Erm, I mean, keeping guard? I'd be alone?" I wanted to be alone.
"Legolas is able to listen for danger. Just call, and we'll come." Aragorn must have mistaken my questions for anxiety about swimming. It was the right answer though.
"Then I'll go swim." I stood up quickly.
"But I want to swim as well." Pippin muttered. He looked kind of annoyed.
"When she's done, we'll go in pairs. There's no need to sulk." Boromir threw something at Pippin. An apple? He was clearly learning how to bribe the hobbit. "I'll show you where it is."
"I will." Legolas said, from beside me, making me jump. He must have come back over when I wasn't looking.
I followed him quietly down to the river, through the dark, gazing around as I did. It was so dark, I skidded a little, I couldn't help it. I knew it was making a lot of noise, kept apologising, but he kept shrugging it off, guiding me with a touch of hand.
We came to a small river, almost small enough to jump across, and I watched Legolas back off quickly. Slowly I stripped off clothing, gazing at the river, and waded in, only wearing the shirt and the undergarment thing, deciding that I could wash them at the same time. Made sense to me. They stank badly.
It was cold. Wet. It was wonderful. The middle of the river, however narrow it was, was almost deep enough to reach my chin. I breathed out slowly, relaxed, and heard a twig crack.
Suddenly, I was blinded by water, as some heavy bodies bombarded the water around me. Panic flooded me and I opened my mouth to yell, only to receive a mouthful of water as something grabbed my ankles and dragged me under the water.
I thrashed and struggled, shoving a little hairy creature away, coming up spluttering as I saw Legolas coming at a run, bow out. He narrowed his eyes at whatever it was surfacing beside me, aimed and it vanished beneath the water again when the arrow went soaring overhead, smacking into the river on the other side.
"That's no way to treat your fellowship!" Pippin's voice protested from behind me, making me twist around, and he was slowly standing up from the water.
"Didn't we say, we'd swim out of sight of Wenduin?" Aragorn called. I blinked, turned, and saw the man wading slowly upstream thigh deep, shaking his head with a small smile on his face. They, like me, had apparently decided to wash clothing at the same time. More or less. Aragorn was holding his shirt in his hands, leggings on, and leggings in water didn't really leave much room for imagination.
Loud splashes blinded me, and another hobbit was bounding into the water, Sam not far behind him. There was laughter as Pippin, who apparently had gone back beneath the water, grabbed Sam's legs and dragged him in.
"Shh, we're -" Aragorn was cut off, as a small hairy body sprung up from the water, and knocked him clean back into the river, shirt going free. I grabbed it and flung it towards Legolas.
Legolas was undressing too.
Oh man.
I stared at him. Shirtless Legolas. Leggings. No imagination needed. I was suddenly thanking the cold water, because... wow. He caught my stare and I glanced away, blinking, face red. This was not helped as my glance went towards Aragorn, who was trying to pry hobbits off him, and Boromir not far behind.
Gandalf wasn't far off, either, though he wasn't in the water. He knelt beside it, ignoring us, washing himself from a little pool of water he'd dug out of the side of the river. I had to guess they trusted Legolas' ears enough to know if there was danger.
"Quiet!" Aragorn was hissing, but his face was betraying him, his mouth kept smiling even when he kept trying to look stern and serious.
"Look out!" Gimili called, breaking the quiet of the night, shoving past Legolas almost as he charged for the water. I suddenly saw it- how scary a dwarf could be- because when that man ran, he was scary. You wouldn't want him charging into you. He charged straight for me and I moved sideways, quickly, his stocky short body charging into the water with an allmighty splash.
Legolas, on the other hand, stayed slow and calm. I floated there, tugging my shirt down as it floated around my tummy, watching as he made his way slowly into the water.
"If you want to go somewhere more private..." Boromir was saying, to me, only to get dunked by Merry who pounced on his head from under the water.
"Upstream would be quieter." Aragorn finished for him. He smiled apologetically.
"It's okay." I think. I checked though, staring down, but was relieved to find that the fabric was at least not going see-through on me. A bit clingy, okay, but not see-through. As long as I stayed underwater...
Legolas waded in, slowly, the water reflecting the pale skin as the moon came out from behind clouds. I stared at him, almost mesmerised, the way the water kind of parted for him. No massive splashes. He caught my stare again, grey eyes somehow visable in the darkness, and my breath hitched.
Boromir crashed through the water, startling us both, and held something out. Half an orange? He smiled somewhat. "It is warmed in the fire."
"Uh, thanks." I smiled, glancing back to where Legolas had been, but he was now with Aragorn. "You seem more relaxed."
Boromir slid down, floating beside me, as I took the orange and started to break it up so I could eat it. He gazed at the stars, his hair floating around his head, hands moving backwards and forwards slowly. "Rivers have fond memories for me."
"They do?" I slid down a little too, holding the orange above the water, the warm juice splashing down into the cold river.
"Gondor has a river. I used to take my brother upstream to swim in it when he was no higher than the hobbits." Boromir breathed out, geninue affection on his face, shutting his eyes. "He was always more comfortable in the wild than in the city."
I saw it. I saw the river. Cutting through the land, a silvery flash of water, that cut a great field or something in two. A city on the river, on either side of it, made of white stone.
"Faramir." I muttered. Like with Lord Elrond, I suddenly saw things, flashes. Boromir and Faramir, celebrating a win, something about ale. His father. His mother, dying in childbirth. It was like something had broken open in me. I saw it all. I saw everything, almost, I saw him as he had been. Saw the hurt on Faramir's face, when his father had refused to let him come for the ring, when he'd insisted Boromir do it. Almost in a trance, I muttered, "You didn't want to come. He offered to come here instead of you."
"What?" Boromir blinked. He shifted to stare at me, a guarded look over his face now, almost mistrust. "How did you know that?"
I saw Gandalf, stand, felt his attention on me suddenly. The old man hadn't missed a thing. No one else seemed to have heard, although saying out loud was clearly bad enough, because there was a tension returning across Boromir's face as he stared at me. I flushed, shifting uncomfortably in the water, "I, um."
"Tell him." Gandalf said softly, shifting closer. Tell me, I suspected, but …
"I just, sometimes. See things." I muttered. I knew I had Legolas' attention again, although he too didn't look, and stared at Boromir with new respect. The man was a fucking hero. In contrast, he was looking at me like I was some disease he suddenly didn't want to contract, and he was standing up, shoulders tensing.
"Like what?"
"Like, you, and your brother. Your father. I just saw it. The day you were asked to come here." All of it, actually. I saw something else in his face, I saw some darkness there, a guarded look come over his eyes. "Sorry. I can't … it happens sometimes. You and Faramir."
Boromir didn't answer. He stayed quiet a long time, before slowly wading out of the river, not glancing back. I felt like I'd done something wrong.
He was already in his bedroll by the time we'd wandered back up, asleep or pretending to be, with his back to us. I stared at him, only for Gandalf's hand to close on my arm, and he shook his head. Instead, he directed me to follow him, the glow from his staff as warming on our wet skin as it was bright.
I followed him some distance from the camp, glad for the warmth of his light, and he turned to stare at me gently.
"You had vision of Boromir? Tell me everything." He requested, soft, gentle. It was strange, how soothing Gandalf was, and at the same time, how it was clear he wasn't going to take no for an answer. I breathed out slowly, uncertain.
"I didn't mean to."
"I know. Sit." He gestured towards a smaller rock, and I sat. "Tell me what you saw."
I told him, about the city on a river, about Boromir and Faramir, some kind of victory, and then their father. About his mother. How he'd not wanted to come at all, that it'd been Faramir who'd volunteered. Everything I'd seen about him. It felt wrong, to know more about Boromir than I knew about my own life, and I muttered that.
"Not wrong, no." Gandalf said softly. He gazed up as he took out a pipe and started to stuff something into it. He didn't speak for a long time.
"I feel like I crossed a line though. Knowing it."
"Maybe." He agreed, and I felt my heart sink, but when he looked at me, there was a kind of affection. "Those who can see through words are wise to keep their visions to themselves. Your mistake was not seeing, but speaking."
I sighed and shut my eyes, leaning on my hands, guilt ridden now.
When Gandalf spoke again, he'd change the subject. "Have you had no other visions?"
"Sometimes I have deja vu... um, I mean, feelings like I've been places before. Not often."
"The moment it happens again, you come to me, and you tell me." Gandalf was doing that 'gentle, yet an order' thing again, but I didn't really care. I liked the old man more and more.
"I will. If I... do I tell the others?"
"Sometimes knowing the path doesn't make it easier to walk it." His response was infuriatingly cryptic. It felt like he was trying to tell me something.
I watched him smoke, slowly, staring at him. I saw fireworks when I saw it. I saw food. Lots of hobbits. I blinked and said softly, "Um, well..."
"Yes?"
"What if I see the past?"
"Are you seeing something?"
"Fireworks and a lot of hobbits." I muttered. To my surprise, that answer made Gandalf laugh, a real geninue laugh that made the smoke go the wrong way, and triggered a coughing fit.
"Bilbo's birthday. Is that what you're seeing?"
"I don't know. It was just a lot of ...fireworks. Oh, and," I saw something that made me smile too now, blinking, "Pippin and Merry covered in soot."
That just made Gandalf cough harder, laughing, shaking his head. I smiled somewhat and relaxed, feeling a little better, as the warmth of his staff eased me. "Not all you see is wrong, then. I would not hesitate in telling Pippin and Merry that."
"I might." I smiled a little. "When the time's right."
Gandalf's ring caught my eye and I stared at it. I stared at it for a long time, as his laughter faded, and he slowly let the sleeve cover his ring again. "Is there something else?"
"I don't know." I muttered. Ifelt like I had been caught again staring at something I shouldn't be staring at. "It's a nice ring."
"Yes, it is." Gandalf stood up slowly. "I am going to bed. Are you coming?"
"When I'm dr-" I blinked. I was dry. My clothes were dry, my hair, everything, and I hadn't noticed it. Gandalf's smile was still in his eyes as I stood up, I felt a bit better at that, like I hadn't totally broken some rule by staring at his ring. "I guess now."
"Good. Sam has our food ready, we can have a little rest, a little food, and be ready for tomorrow." Gandalf led me back to the campsite. Once I had one of the hot rocks against aching body, some food, I collapsed.
That night, I dreamed, and it was the nightmares again. I felt hot, burning, I couldn't rest. Some part of me felt like I was thrashing, but at the same time, I could barely move. Nightmares dogged me. I saw the future, I saw the past, I saw everything about this place. But I couldn't grasp onto the memories, even though I was conciously aware of it being a dream, I lost the images as fast as they came.
It felt like the fire was right there, beside me, like I was practically in the hot coals themselves.
And, suddenly, I was aware of Frodo and the other hobbits like never before. Before, he was that hobbit that kept some distance, that hobbit that carried it. It was like I wasn't quite in my own body, trapped beside it, and the only thing I could make out beside my dreams was them. The four little men, sleeping side by side, and the weight of that ring.
It was powerful.
It called to me. And for the first time, I felt it, felt this desire for it. But why? I questioned it in my dreams, confused, and a little put off. Why did I want it so much?
When I woke, I was sweating, heart racing, half expecting to have been ...where? Half out of blankets? Thrashed all over the place? Chaos? But nothing. I was exactly where I'd been when I'd fallen asleep, almost to the inch, except that my head had turned towards the hobbits.
Everyone was asleep, except Gandalf, his eyes on me. I felt guilt dog me, guilt about these dreams, these feelings... and stared away, trying to look normal, trying to behave like nothing was wrong. It was just a dream. It was nothing.
"I saw stuff." I said, very softly, and he shifted a little closer. Had he been keeping guard? "But I can't... remember any of it."
"No?" Why did I get the impression that he didn't quite believe me?
"Well, I remember feeling like I was in the fire." I shifted up, my hot sweaty sin bared to the cold morning air. Somehow though I couldn't bring the hobbits up. They sat there, at the back of my mouth, but I just couldn't quite... say it. Out loud.
So I stared at the rising sun, trying to relax, and Gandalf finally looked away.
The morning's walk was surprisingly easier, maybe because of the warm stone I'd pressed against my aching legs that night, the dream dancing through my head. Boromir didn't talk to me, though he seemed to be relaxed again, Legolas led the way with his eternally youthful legs, and I ended up chatting with Gimili. He wanted to know more about 'London'.
"How many live there?" He asked, making his way slowly up the hill beside me, using the safe part of his axe as a staff.
"I think a few million."
"Million!" Aragorn stared at me like I was mad. "There's not so many men in Middle Earth!"
"Isn't there?" I wondered about that. I had, after all, only seen a handful of humans. Literally. "I guess ...it's an old city."
"How old?"
"Um." I wandered slowly up. Something was coming to me. Some woman, who'd burnt London to the ground when Rome had it, and who had left a thick red line which was still under London. "Well, it must at least be two thousand years old. There was a woman who burnt it to the ground two thousand years ago."
"Why did she do that?" Pippin sounded a little less breathless too. He glanced back over his shoulder at me, as we trudged up the hill.
"I don't remember. Something about revenge. If I remember, I'll tell you the story." I glanced back and stared, somewhat amazed, at how high we were up now. More and more. Behind us were giant snowy mountains, not towering above us as they had been once, but instead we were close to coming to half their height.
I shivered, amazed, and turned around.
"We're nearly at the highest point for some time." Gandalf called down the hill. "See that?" He pointed at a peak just above us. A rocky outcrop, standing above everything, maybe a few miles away. "Not far now, and we'll rest, eat some lunch.
"Then where?" Frodo asked.
"We must hold this course west of the Misty Mountains for forty days. If our luck holds, the Gap of Rohan will still be open to us. From there our road turns east to Mordor "
Okay, that was deja vu, big time, and Gandalf met my eyes as I kind of ...waved my hand at him. He nodded, falling back, Aragorn stepping forward to take the lead.
"Sorry." I said softly.
"Don't be."
"I guess, I was just going to say, things are kind of feeling deja-vuy again."
"Oh? Walk beside me then." He seemed vaugely interested now, and we walked side by side up the mountain, while I stared around.
Once we'd reached the peak of stones, granite or something, I really did feel like it was familiar. I met Gandalf's eyes. "Yeah. I … feel like this is kind of familiar."
"Good, good." He didn't seem the least bit concerned about this. "Sam?"
"No smoke with this one." Aragorn instructed Sam. He was already gathering wood, as the others moved to drop packs down, sit, Gimli already with a pipe in his mouth.
I flopped down as well, for a moment, but I felt restless and weird. So I stood up again despite my aching body's protest and stared around. Legolas took one look at me and went to stand up a bit higher, keeping watch, which didn't really reassure me much.
Okay. I hadn't seen any baddies. Not yet. But … I still felt kind of weird.
"I am sorry for how I responded." Boromir's voice cut in, and I blinked as he stepped closer, lowering his pack to rest next to mine. His voice was low, clearly he wasn't interested in sharing this with the others, as he sat down beside me. "It was not a day I like remembering."
"Your brother." I said softly. "Seemed awesome."
"Awesome?"
"Um, I mean, like a really good person. A good man." I explained as I sat down slowly. I saw some of the guarded expression fade away from his eyes at that and knew I was onto a winner with this conversation direction. "I hope I get to meet him."
"I am sure you will. One day, we will return, and I will show you the city." His smile really returned then, warmth in his face, staring into the horizon. "Nothing you've seen will compare to the beauty of Gondor."
"I believe it." I really did too. Sure, I had seen London, but then this place seemed to have beautiful everything. The next words kind of popped out, "And I can teach you how to make a kite."
"A what?" Boromir seemed amused by that.
I smiled somewhat. "You'll see."
"Sausage?" Sam called to Aragorn. "Should I cook them?"
Gandalf answered for Aragorn, nodding. "Go ahead."
Sam was quick to yank out a frying pan and squash the fire down a bit with it, eager, some energy returning.
"When my brother was young, I instructed him in the use of a sword. I would teach you to fight, now, if you'd like" Boromir offered. He stood up.
"Maybe tonight. I really..." I really felt anxious still. Weird. But I smiled weakly. "Am kind of hungry."
"All right. Tonight, then, I will teach you." He moved away and headed for where Pippin and Merry were. "Would you two like to learn how to use those swords?"
Another cloud of smoke past me, from Aragorn, and I noticed Gandalf had also pulled out his pipe. Weed. It smelt like weed. Was everyone here stoners?
The clash of swords got my attention and up went the 'deja vu' thing again, as I watched Boromir and the hobbits clash swords, seeing that side of Boromir I liked come back out again. Aragorn was relaxed too, smiling, and I went to sit beside him. He flashed a warm smile in my direction, distracted suddenly, as Pippin nearly fell onto his ass.
"Move your feet!"
Merry glanced at Pippin approving, "You look good, Pippin."
"Thanks."
"Faster!" Boromir encouraged, clearly happy with this, his eyes flashing up to me. That just seemed to make him happier. Oh yeah. Stroke the man's ego.
"If anyone was to ask for my opinion, which I note they're not, I'd say we were taking the long way round. Gandalf, we could pass through the Mines of Moria." Gimli's voice drifted from my side.
The words kind of made me uneasy all over again, and my eyes glanced sideways at Gandalf, who caught my gaze for a moment. Then he looked back to Gimli as he continued.
"My cousin, Balin, would give us a royal welcome."
Gandalf shook his head slowly." No Gimli, I would not take the road through Moria unless I had no other choice."
I stared at Legolas again, standing still, slowly getting to my feet. It must have distracted Boromir, because I heard Pippin's yell of pain, and suddenly all three of them were on the ground mock fighting.
Only distracted a moment, I headed up, slowly, trying to see it too. Yep. This was what I felt anxious about.
" For the Shire! Hold him! Hold him down! Merry!" Pippin's delighted yell from behind me barely got my attention.
"Gentlemen, that's enough." Aragorn's voice drifted up.
I exchanged looks with Legolas, who's frown line had re-apperared between his eyes, and he re-focused on the thing in the distance.
Sam must have noticed we were staring at something. "What is that?"
"Goblins from Dubin?" I muttered, as the words popped into my head, though it didn't quite ...sound right. Legolas's head twisted towards mine, a fraction, but he seemed to be trying to focus harder.
"Nothing, it's just a whiff of cloud."
Then why did I have the sudden urge to dive under that bush?
Something must have snapped in Legolas' brain or vision because, realising what it was, he was already backing up, a hand on my arm and pulling me back. "Crebain from Dunland!"
Well, okay, I was sort of close. I gladly followed him and hid, as Aragorn shouted for everyone to hide, the anxiety starting to climb as that ...whatever the hell it was... got closer. Legolas and I ended up under a bush, pressed against each other, his arm over my shoulders, eyes fixed on the traces of sky through the bush.
Birds. Big black crows, as big as my arm, and at least a hundred of them. Legolas drew me closer, or I drew closer to him, one or the other, as the air filled with the sound of their terrible calls, with the musky smell of bird and decay, the beating of wings, the sheer amount of birds darkening the sky as the birds circled around and over the large outcrop. If they hadn't seen one of us, they must have seen the fire, or the packs, or...
And then they were gone.
I thought my anxiety would be gone. But instead, it remained, as we climbed out slowly.
When Gandalf spoke, I realised why I felt anxious, and that it wasn't totally to do with the birds.
"Spies of Saruman! The passage South is being watched. We must take the Pass of Caradhras "
Oh god. I followed his gaze.
Up a mountain side.
A week and a half.
It took a week just to get down the valley, off the high place we'd worked so hard to get up to in the first place, and another three days up a slope back up to the green and white hills on the other side of the valley. And we weren't anywhere near the real Mountain yet!
I fell into a kind of daze. Walk, trudge, walk, brain shut off. Crawl into bed. Sleep. Have nightmares. Come back out, talk with whoever was beside me, half expecting to see more memories. I didn't, I didn't see anything else, and it was both a relief and a concern.
Not only that, but there was nothing dangerous about this. Nothing. By the fourth day of trying to reach the pass of 'that great bloody mountain', I half wondered if there was even any baddies, besides over-sized crows. It was hard to think otherwise.
Once we'd reached the slopes back up the hills, I found another problem. The weather. It might have been warmer to get The real problem was the weather. However 'warm' it had been lower down, the higher the fellowship walked, the colder it got.
Still, it meant bonding time around warmer fires, as Aragorn had to let us build better fires. I had to admit, I liked them all, and Gimli was growing on me big time. He had a better sense of humour, more understanding of how physically hard it was for me, and seemed to be more interested in how I was doing.
Legolas, on the other hand, kept staring at me. Behaving funny. I couldn't explain it. Particually when Boromir was training me. Sometimes, Legolas would come to watch, and sometimes he'd go off to keep watch. It took me four days before I realised he'd stopped talking to me at all.
Everyone seemed to be getting on better and better, even Boromir and Aragorn, joking and messing around. Sure, there was a tenseness, but …
Not so much anymore.
I lay there, on my bed on the cold dirt, staring up into the perfectly clear sky. No more fires- there just wasn't enough firewood for it to last long enough, and no trees close by. So it was freezing. I was freezing. I'd been lying there for hours. And we weren't anywhere near the mountain yet! The ground was freezing, we'd past patches of snow in lower grounds.
"Aren't you tired?" Legolas said softly from where he sat beside me, wide awake. I'd only seen him sleep a few times this whole bloody trip. When did he sleep?
"I'm too cold to be tired." I muttered. Although my eyes were on the stars, I knew the others were asleep, Legolas once again on watch duty. Guess it made sense- he had the best eyes and ears here and apparently didn't sleep. The soft snores of Frodo made me kind of envious. How did he sleep?
"Oh." I heard the sound of movement, something dragged across the snow, and then he was suddenly right beside me, his mat beside mine.. Legolas dropped back down. "Lie close to my side then."
I shifted closer, shutting my eyes, the warmth of his legs seeping through. I felt him tug my blanket open, slide a leg or two in, and the muscle of his leg press against my side.
Okay, wow.
"How long a walk is it?" I asked softly. I'd held the question in for some time. Meeting Legolas eyes in the darkness, there was no moon anymore, I saw him hesitate.
"Perhaps another week. We could walk faster but... this is difficult terrain for everyone."
"You mean, Elves could walk faster."
He nodded, eyes up, staring into the darkness. "Yes."
"Must be frustrating for you."
"I am learning patience. With many things." His eyes came back down to me. There was that subtle frown back in his face again. "Have you had nothing come to you about me?"
"You?" I blinked up at him. "Why you?"
"Nothing." Legolas muttered.
"I can't … just magic it up. It doesn't work like that." I didn't know how to do it. It frustrated me. "I mean, sometimes there's things, but usuall-"
"You remember Boromir's past." His eyes were fixed on the sky now. "And spend time with him. Have you seen much of his life?"
Was he jealous? The perfect blonde Elf? Jealous? "I don't know. I didn't see a lot."
Legolas shifted, a little, leg brushing against my arm. "All Elves see some things."
"Oh? What do you see?"
He didn't answer for a long time, a hand resting on the ground behind my head, and for a while I wondered if he'd fallen asleep like that. I was almost asleep myself when he finally spoke up, quietly, "Some things."
It wasn't much of an answer. "Like?"
"Seeing the future does not give answers as to how to walk it."
That answer wasn't much easier. I sat up slowly, trying to see his face, confused.
"What..."
"Go to sleep." Legolas met my eyes, his expression as alien as he'd seemed when I was drunk, distant and withdrawn in himself. "You will sleep now."
I wanted to argue but I didn't. Instead, I lay back down, shut my eyes, and wondered. What had he seen, that he seemed so distant about? Was it bad? Good? I didn't get to ask. The warmth of his body heat seemed to assist with the sleeping and it wasn't long before I'd dropped away from the comforting body heat into the all too familiar torment of nightmares.
That night, I didn't have nightmares. What I did have was warmth, a lot of it, and when I woke, Legolas hadn't budged an inch. He was still wide awake, still gazing around, his head twisting a fraction in my direction.
"Were you there all night?" I mumbled, voice heavy with sleep, and he blinked at me.
"Sorry, I do not understand you."
Oh. Accent. I tried to swallow back the sleepiness, speak clearer, "Did you keep watch from there?"
"Aragorn took his turn not long after you went to sleep. I have rested here." Legolas shifted, slowly, and I swore I heard something crack. A bone? So he was at least made of muscle and bone. That was nice to know. He stretched an arm slowly, over me, and I swore I smelt a trace of that body odour once again.
"Rested sitting up?"
"It was enough." Legolas reached down, tucking hair out of my face, and I reached up to feel it was all over the place again. Our hands brushed and he actually flinched, blinking at me.
The contact sent those tingles all throughout my body though, even though it was brief, and he blinked at his own action. Legolas stood up quickly. No one else saw it, everyone except for Boromir were asleep, and he was some distance off up the hill.
I was attracted to the elf. I knew it. It was kind of embarrassing. Somehow it felt wrong, like it wasn't meant to be here, and I didn't look at him as we packed up camp and ate a hurried breakfast.
Hurriedly tying my hair back, or attempting to, I followed the Fellowship up the slope, staring around. It was only as I re-dressed that I remembered I didn't have a ear on that side, that he must have noticed, and the more familiar self-loathing returned. But I was too tired to focus on it.
Luckily, walking seemed to push it back. Instead I focused on trudging up the hillside, I wondered what the hell he'd talked about. Come to think of it, was this foresight thing an Elf thing? Hadn't Lord Elrond said he'd done it? Did Legolas see things too?
I didn't really know. I didn't really want to think about him. Now that I'd acknowledged the attraction, it was hard to look at him, to think, because it was …
I didn't know. That was the problem. It didn't feel right. None of this did. And, I realised with a start, that every vision I'd had so far had never included me in it. Never. Them, yes, but not me. It was like I wasn't even here.
The thought freaked me out.
It got progressively colder though, that I knew, and boy did I feel grateful right now for the warm waterproof boots that I had been given. No matter how much dew, snow or otherwise under our feets, the bottom of the boots never seemed to slip and no dampness got in.
That night, the cold again, and like before, Legolas appeared. Warm, bothering my mental state, and this time I was even more painfully aware of his shift of muscles against my side. I had to turn onto my side, back to him, which didn't help because now I just felt more of him against my back. It kept me awake long after everyone else was asleep, this awareness of a growing attraction, which bugged me to no end. I kind of wanted to tell him to go away now. But would that make it obvious?
Memories of that drunken ...whatever the hell it had been... sprang back up big time now. If I got him drunk again, I could …
Yeah, that was just not going to happen.
"What's your home like, Legolas?" I said quietly. There. Safe topic.
"Old." The answer wasn't that surprising, not really, but Legolas shifted softly as if the topic bothered him a little. "It is surrounded by ancient forest, old forest. Once, it was great, full of light, the trees content and happy to speak to us. Now, we only have a small place left, and the trees are angry. Much of the forest is no longer safe to even Elvenkind."
"Why?"
"There have been many wars and Sauron has cast his shadow upon most of the trees remaining. I remember no time when it was safe in all my long years. Only when my father was young, the great forest stretched far and was safe to walk in, until the shadow fell across all of the forest, and our people were forced to retreat north."
"How long ago was that?" I felt my body easing into sleep now, as he talked, as I felt his warm body spread the same warmth through my cold back. "Why isn't it safe now?"
"A very long time, at the end of the first age." Legolas's hand actually rested on my side at that, such an easy natural gesture, like he'd been sleeping beside me for a long time. Again, it caused tingles, but it was more than that. It was ...comfortable. "There are spiders, great spiders, who have taken over much of the forest. My father does his best to keep the roads of Mirkwood safe but deeper inside, where the trees crowd and the light does not pass the canopy, even Elves are in great danger.
How long was an age? I wondered, shifting to turn onto my back a little, staring up at him, "So ..."
"Around three thousand years ago. My father was my age." He stared up at the stars again. Elves and stars. I noticed they were obsessed with them. "Never have I seen any forest such as he remembers. The world has been falling into shadow and the trees no longer wish to wake."
"Wake?" I yawned, slowly, blinking. This kind of brought up a memory. Walking trees. Ents. Pippin and Merry. Oh my god, I was having a vision of the future. Either that, or it was the past, and the hobbits never mentioned something as incredible as a walking tree. Sliding up, to Legolas surprise, I muttered, "Ents are awake still."
"Ents?" That added to his surprise as he watched me stand. "Where are you going?"
"Gandalf." I pointed in the direction the old man was standing, keeping watch, and yawned a little. Trust ...fate. Now, when I was ready to drift off, I had to get up and talk to Gandalf. Still, it was a good excuse to get away from Legolas for a while.
Gandalf did not seem to be surprised at all to see me. He mearly turned, slowly, and called softly, "Legolas, I thought I saw something move down there." He pointed.
Legolas, who had risen as well, nodded and vanished into the darkness. Gandalf turned to me and patted the log beside him.
"Sorry, I just... thought I saw something" I said it very softly.
"Tell me, then."
"Ents. Pippin and Merry. I don't think it was the past." I heard him shift, turning to face me more. "I mean, I never heard them talk about a walking tree before."
"No, nor have I. Do you know where?"
"Fangorn Forest. I don't know much else. Just seeing them, with a walking tree, while he told them a-" I hesitated. It was like trying to remember a dream and the more I spoke about it, the more I saw it.
"Told them what?"
"Well, a poem about Entwives." That wasn't what had made me hesitate. I'd seen something else and stared at Gandalf. It was, if it was the future, his future. "And I saw you."
"Oh?"
"I mean, I saw them being dropped in front of you and-"
"I see." Gandalf cut me off before I could speak more. He smiled warmly. "I don't think I need to know more. Ents, hm? Still awake, after all this time." He went quiet, gazing thoughtfully forward, a cloud of smoke breathed out as he exhaled smoke.
"Yeah." I watched something move, sitting up, but it was only Legolas some hundred feet below, briefly catching the light of the waning moon.
"You should go back to bed, while it's warm, and rest." Gandalf suggested softly after some time. I took his advice.
The higher we got up, the colder it got, until it was only snow that we were walking on. Legolas wasn't wrong about it being 'a week and a half'. It was more like two weeks, I suspected, but time was blurring into 'white snow, dark snow' cycles.
The slope was a difficult one to get up, and though I occasionally felt tempted to stop, make a snowman, throw some balls, I felt too physically exhausted all the time to even bother bending over to touch the stuff. It was hard enough to keep my footing in the slippery landscape. It wasn't just me struggling, the hobbits were having a hard time, having no shoes. Their feet must have been hurting like hell but I didn't hear any of them complain, not a single murmer of it, not even from Pippin. They just trudged up the mountain between us, occasionally slipping, and Gandalf ordered them to stay between the taller men in case they slipped.
And at night, they slept huddled together, side by side.
Boromir entertained me each night with stories of Gondor, and this usually was triggered by Gimli boasting about the great mines of the Dwarfs. Legolas didn't boast but he always listened, watching Gimli, never really speaking to him. Was there something weird going on between them? Kind of aggressive? Even Aragorn and Boromir seemed to be getting on better now than Legolas and Gimli.
Gandalf told the hobbits the story about the Ents, on the third night, a general story about their history. He sounded casual, like this was just him telling a story of his own, but when he met my eye I knew it'd partly been triggered by what I'd told him. They must have heard this story before, given how Pippin kept offering parts Gandalf forgot, but the hobbits were completely taken with the story anyway. Everyone except Frodo. He sat there quietly, eating, watching without really taking part.
I had felt increasingly uncomfortable about him and what he wore. When he stared at me, I glanced away, feeling guilty somehow. Boromir had the same expression. I didn't like this, how I was feeling, how awkard and weird that ring was making me feel. How ...drawn.
It really bothered me. The more I felt this way, the more I didn't want anything to do with Frodo or that ring, the more I wanted to just leave. And take Boromir with me. He seemed as uncomfortable about being here as I felt. And, I realised, neither of us had really wanted to come on the trip.
Still, seeing as I was here, I may as well be useful somehow.
I was thinking this, as we trudged up the mountain, Boromir right behind me.
I thought so, anyway.
"Frodo!"
The call from Aragorn made me pause, and turn, seeing that Frodo was against Aragorn. Boromir was stepping back down the slope and...
Deja vu of the very uncomfortable kind.