Chapter 5: In Which Luna Is Given a Quest
Luna crouched behind the leafy bush, her eyes squinting in the direction of a doe, which was nibbling on the grass. She looked to her left. Faramir was crouched identically to her and he nodded in her direction. She nodded back, pulling an arrow from her quiver, her bow already in hand. Faramir had gifted her the bow for Yuletide, but the arrows she had crafted herself. She nocked her arrow and pulled the string back to her cheek, taking in a long breath as she pulled. She held herself for a small moment as she aimed and then...snap. The arrow embedded itself into the doe's eye. A clean shot.
"Well done," Faramir praised, coming out of his hiding place. "You're getting much better."
"I've had a good teacher," she said, placing her bow on her back. She pulled the knife from her side sheath and walked up to the beast, slicing through the doe's neck.
Faramir pulled out his tools and began to dress their kill. Luna pulled out the salts for preservation and the burlap and rope they would use to carry it back to the city. This one would get processed there for consumption.
"I remember the first time I brought you out here," Faramir mused. "You could barely stomach the kill."
"And now I can skin, butcher, and jerky it all on my own, thanks to you."
"If I hadn't brought you out here, you'd have gone mad in the Healing Houses."
"And I thank you for it. You have been a good friend to me, Faramir."
"Amrothos asked me to take care of you, and I am a man of my word."
Luna finished setting up the next step in the process. "I'll go check the rabbit traps."
He nodded in response and she set off back toward the edge of the woods. Faramir had her set three traps for the day and two of them had done their job. She snapped the necks of the two captives and gathered the supplies, placing the meat in a much smaller burlap than the one they had brought for the deer. Before returning to Faramir, she took one deep breath of the nature around her. Clean, woodsy scents filled her nostrils, but they were not the smells she wanted. She hadn't smelled the sea in months. Thirteen months since she'd arrived in Minas Tirith. Fourteen since she'd read a letter from Eomer. Forty-two lives she had saved since arriving. Thirty-nine that she had lost. Her losses were catching up on her.
Back at the clearing, Faramir was nearly done pulling out the entrails. "I'm nearly done," he said as she made her presence known. "I promised Melyanna I'd have you back before sundown."
"As much as I wish we didn't have to go back, she is right. I would hate to linger and find ourselves caught by a party of...them."
"What? Orcs?" Faramir asked, standing and grabbing his waterskin to clean the blood from his hands. "Any party of Orcs we would meet in these woods would be small enough for me to take them on."
"Perhaps you are overconfident?"
Faramir grasped at his chest, feigning surprise. "Your words slash at me, fair maiden."
She smiled and walked over to the deer, grabbing the bag of grated salt rock and sprinkling it over the incision Faramir had made. "When do you go back?" she asked after a pause.
The young ranger's eyes darkened. "Tomorrow. Osgiliath calls for aid. Boromir has already ridden out. I'll bring another unit to his aid at dawn."
"How bad is it?"
"Not good, but my brother believes we can keep hold. My father demands it."
"How can he demand something he has no control over?"
"Alas, that is my father's nature to a tee." He looked as if he wanted to say more on the subject, but he shook his head. "Come, help me pull it onto the burlap."
Luna didn't sleep well these days. She hadn't slept through an entire night since her arrival in Minas Tirith. She thought back to her first sights of the city when she had arrived all those months ago. Built into the side of the White Mountains, it was the largest structure she had ever seen in her life. It made Dol Amroth's castle look like a child's play fort. And from the moment she had arrived, she hated it. She remembered her and her mother's introduction to Denathor. How he sneered down at them, ignoring Melyanna's kind greeting and sending them straight to the Houses of Healing. She remembered meeting Ioreth, the Houses caretaker, who had immediately deemed Luna's skills as unpracticed and weak, breathing down her neck with every wounded soldier that passed her way. Luna had never felt more inadequate in her life than she did in Minas Tirith.
That was, until she met Faramir. Amrothos had written to him before Luna and her mother had departed Dol Amroth. At first, Luna was annoyed that Amrothos thought she would need a babysitter, but she quickly realized that that wasn't the favor Faramir intended to fulfil to his cousin. He was a good friend, a phenomenal teacher, and together they became each other's confidantes. Melyanna had been reluctant to allow Luna outside of the city, but Faramir convinced her and his lessons began. Lessons on hunting and tracking, mostly. How to trap small game and shoot down larger ones. Until her arrival, she had never touched a bow. Faramir taught her how to shoot and aim in the city and made use of the new skill as soon as it was mastered.
Luna sat at an edge of Minas Tirith's walls, and from there she could see out onto the Pelennor Fields. In the distance, she spotted four figures making their way across the plain. They came from the east, from Osgiliath. Perhaps four Orcs that had broken through the defenses? It wouldn't have been the first time. Luna waited as the small party approached the city. She anticipated arrows to start flying from the patrols set up around the city, but before the figures were close enough to shoot at, the sound of a horn blew throughout the fields. The Horn of Gondor. The horn Faramir's brother Boromir carried.
Luna stood and squinted. The four figures out on the field were Men, not Orcs. She could make out the Horn in the hand of one of them. As they moved closer, she could see the White Tree embossed on their armor. It was Lord Boromir. And something must have gone very wrong for him to have abandoned his post at Osgiliath.
Faramir had only left Minas Tirith four days prior and Luna had missed the opportunity to give him farewell. She could not tell who the four men were exactly from where she stood, but she prayed to Ulmo for Faramir's safety. If he were to perish, she knew not what would become of her. She had no other friends in the city.
She ran from her perch and down the many, many steps it took to reach a spot where she could glimpse the gates. A crowd had started to gather and she managed to get there just in time to see Boromir and his companions pass through. When she saw Faramir's face amongst them, she let out a sob she didn't realize she'd been holding in. Faramir's gaze turned in the direction of her outburst and he waved, letting her know to meet him in the barbican. She ran again and leapt into his arms the moment she was close enough. From over his shoulder, Luna saw Boromir huff and shake his head. She knew she was being inappropriate, but she didn't care. She had to touch Faramir, hold him, to know that he was really there, for she could sense something terrible had happened and it must have been a miracle that he had survived.
"We need to report to Father," Boromir said. "Mistress Luna, release my brother, if you'd please."
She sighed and dropped her arms. Faramir touched a gloved hand to her cheek gently. "I will come find you in the Houses after. Boromir is right. We have much to report and council to seek."
Luna nodded and let him go, turning her attention to the other two soldiers, neither of whom she recognized. "Are you injured? Do you require assistance?" she asked.
"Aye miss, just me," the older of the two said. "They call me Ferenion. Lad over there is Masten. Orc arrow grazed my calf. Probably needs stitching."
Luna pulled her bag from her shoulder. "Come, over here into the shade. I work in the Healing Houses. I am honored to assist you."
"I know who you are, Mistress Luna. You saved me brother's life. Many lives at that."
"I am pleased to have saved any life I can." She gestured for Ferenion to sit on the bench and she pulled a needle and thread from her bag. From her belt she pulled off her waterskin. The soldier removed his shin guard and pulled up his pant leg, revealing a nasty cut.
"What had happened in Osgiliath?" she asked as she began her work.
"They took the Great Bridge to the Anduin," Masten said, sitting beside his fellow soldier. "They hold control of the river now."
"Sauron's forces take more and more of us every day," Ferenion said through gritted teeth as Luna's needle pierced his skin. "We were the only survivors."
Luna shifted her gaze back to the man's face, pausing for the first time. "The only ones?"
"Aye, the four of us," Masten said. "Did you know anyone in the frey?"
"Four swan knights were stationed there. Fostir had been a personal guard to Prince Imrahil." She sniffed back her tears and continued work on Ferenion's leg. The kind face of the old swan knight passed through her mind. He had been one of their guard companions on her trip to Rohan all those years ago. She finished her work on the stitching and tied a knot. "Cleanse that with hot water when you return to your home." she instructed.
She left the two soldiers and began the long walk back up the stairs to the Healing Houses, her pace slower than normal. She dreaded passing along this news to the other healers, especially her mother. Melyanna had shed too many tears as of late. Luna couldn't bear to watch her cry again.
Instead of entering the Houses, she sat outside. There had been no midday duties for her to attend to, not with all soldiers either deployed to different battlements of Gondor or inside healing. Melyanna had given her free reign until the evening.
From her bag, Luna pulled out yet another book she had borrowed from the Library of Kings. She mostly read books on geography, for when she read them, it was easy to pretend that she was somewhere else, anywhere else but Minas Tirith.
The sun sank further and further towards the west as she did her best to concentrate on the words and not her impatience for Faramir's arrival. But arrive he did, eventually and Luna threw herself into his arms yet again. "Ferenion and Masten told me what happened," she said, gripping onto him, for she was correct in assuming that it was a miracle he had survived.
"There was nothing we could have done," he said, his voice cracking with his sadness.
She pulled back and sat back down on her bench. "But your father didn't agree?" she assumed.
He nodded and sat down beside her. "Luna...Boromir faced a threat we never could have predicted. The Witch King has been called to arms. He now aids Sauron's forces that attack the city. Now that they have control of the river, there is nothing stopping them from trying to invade."
"What can be done now?"
"Father will come up with some plan before Boromir leaves."
"Leaves? Boromir is leaving? To a different post?"
"No, Luna." Her friend sighed and looked her in the eye for the first time. "Something else happened. The night before I left for Osgiliath, four days ago, I had a...a dream."
"A dream?"
"It wasn't a dream in that sense, but what else can one call a vision in their sleep."
"Why is this dream so important?"
"I have had the same dream every night since. A voice, speaking to me. 'Seek for the Sword that was broken: In Imladris it dwells; There shall be counsels taken Stronger than Morgul-spells. There shall be shown a token That Doom is near at hand, For Isildur's Bane shall waken, And the Halfling forth shall stand.'"
Luna shook her head. "I understand nothing you've just said."
"'The sword that was broken'," Faramir repeated. "Narasil, the blade carried by Isildur, the last King of Gondor. The blade lies in a land known as Imladris. By my father's council, I now know this to be Rivendell, the Elven kingdom. My father received a letter from Lord Elrond, the leader of Rivendell. There is to be a gathering of representatives of the Free Peoples, a council to discuss the fate of Middle-earth in this war."
"And that is where Boromir is going? To this gathering?"
"Aye."
"'That Doom is near at hand'?" Luna said, repeating the ominous phrase. "What is the Doom?"
"We know not, but my father seems to think it a weapon to defeat the forces of Mordor."
"Faramir," Luna muttered, skeptically. "How can you be sure this wasn't just a dream? And what good does it do to gather in Rivendell amongst the Elves? The Elves have had little to do with Men in the last three thousand years. It is a two, maybe three month trip, parts of which horses would prove difficult due to the terrain. I just don't see the point when you've suffered a blow in Osgiliath."
"Luna, I had been skeptical to share the dream with anyone. But last night, before the attacks, Boromir slept and awoke with the same vision. The same words being spoken into his mind. This is no ordinary dream. Boromir thinks the same, as does my father. In fact, he has ordered that after we work to recuperate our loss in Osgiliath that I go to Rivendell."
"But you said Boromir was going."
"Boromir has insisted I stay behind and Captain the soldiers in his stead. Father reluctantly agreed."
"When does he leave?"
"A fortnight. Luna…"
"Yes?"
"He will be traveling alone. Boromir is not a Ranger, as I am. He knows little of tracking and hunting. He hardly knows the way."
"You worry for him. That is understandable."
"I would worry less if he had a companion not ordered to stay behind. Someone I trust. Someone I know could keep him on a safe path with food in his stomach. Someone perhaps, who has been reading little more than geography books in the last year."
Luna shook her head. "Faramir…"
"I would not ask it of you if I didn't think it the best situation for both of you."
"I cannot leave Minas Tirith," she protested. "I am not a well traveled person. I may have read books on the roads of Middle-earth, but I have traveled very little of them. I would just as soon get us lost in a barren wasteland than successfully reach Rivendell. Not to mention, I am here on orders of Prince Imrahil and your father. Leaving with Boromir would be abandoning my duties and post."
"And if my father were to grant you permission to accompany Boromir? What then?"
"I leave my mother behind to take up the work I abandon. Not to mention, Boromir doesn't even like me. All I have ever seen him do in my presence is scowl and huff."
"Boromir does not dislike you. He just doesn't know you."
"I'm sorry, Faramir, but you haven't presented even one good reason for me to go. It will not be happening. My place is here."
"Luna, it would be wise of you to reconsider."
"Why?"
"I thought this proposal would excite you. Light a fire in your eyes. You've always told me how you want to leave here. Return to Dol Amroth and see your father before taking off again to see the world. I can only suspect the reason you read all of these geography books is that you are looking for something, or somewhere. I know not what it is, but it is not stuck behind these stone walls, nor is it hunting with me out in nearby woods. I wish this to be your decision."
"It would still be my decision if I chose to stay here at my post." She paused as Faramir stiffened. "Wouldn't it? Faramir?"
Another long pause. "No."
"You've already suggested this to your father," she said, unconsciously scooting away from him. "And he agreed. Boromir too?"
"As I said, I thought this would excite you. I thought you would be honored, that you would welcome it."
"You think I welcome the opportunity to be separated from my mother? From my people? From my duties? When Amrothos asked you to watch over me, how could you possibly think this is what he meant?"
"Amrothos asked me to do what I thought was best for you. This is what I think is best. You need to leave this city. You were not meant to sit behind stone walls and teand to the sick and injured. You were meant for something greater, something exciting."
Luna took a deep breath. "You really think that?"
Faramir smiled and grabbed her hand. "If I have learned anything about you, Luna, it is that you are destined for an adventure. And I think that adventure is calling."
Luna's steps on the polished stone floor echoed throughout the hall as she marched toward the King's Dias in the Hall inside of Minas Tirith's Citadel. The stone eyes of the Kings of Old watched her as she passed them on either side of the long Hall. The dias was home to a large, white throne, elevated by steps. At the bottom of the steps, was a simple black throne. The throne of the stewards. Denathor sat on that throne now.
The old man surveyed her as she marched by herself to meet him. When she reached what she assumed was close enough, she bowed low, at the waist. "Hail, Lord Denathor," she said, her voice echoing much louder than her shoes had been.
"Stand up girl," he said, shifting in his seat. "Faramir tells me you're skilled in the ways of travel, enough to assist Boromir on his quest."
"Lord Faramir is kind to think of me in this manner."
"Kind? I do not care about his kindness. Is he speaking truths, that is what I want to know. You are well versed in maps? You can hunt for food and heal wounds? Yes?"
"This is true, my lord."
"You are well versed in horse care? He tells me your father is the Stablemaster in Dol Amroth?"
"Indeed, my lord. My father taught me everything I know in the ways of horses."
"And you have allies in Rohan?"
"I have...acquaintances in Rohan," she said, taken aback. "Acquaintances I have not seen with my own eyes in nearly six years."
"But they would know you, yes? Know you as an ally? Perhaps permit you to travel? Theoden has placed a travel ban on all strangers passing through Rohan, but you are not a stranger to the people?"
"I would hope that would be the case, my lord."
Denathor shifted again and crossed his legs. "You will be an asset to Gondor on this quest, not a burden, do you understand?"
"Yes, my lord."
"You will follow Lord Boromir's orders. Assist when called to. Ask no questions."
Luna gritted her teeth. "Yes, my lord."
"In my sons' dreams, the voice spoke of a token. Something that could cause the fall of our enemies in Mordor. I do not know what this token is, but I have no doubt it will be present when you reach Rivendell. I have given Boromir this same command. Whatever the token may be, you will bring in to Minas Tirith, to me."
"Are you certain, my lord, that it is a token you would want brought into Gondor? Lord Faramir's dream called it a Doom-"
"You dare question my orders?" he barked, his voice carrying loudly through the echoes of the hall. "Perhaps I was too quick to trust the advice of my youngest son. Perhaps I stick you back in the Healing Houses."
"I did not mean to insult you, my lord," she said, giving another deep bow. "I only wish for what is best for Gondor, as do you, of that I am positive."
Denathor huffed and sat back in his throne. "Swear to me, you will assist Boromir in bringing this token to Minas Tirith, ere your life be forfeit."
Luna swallowed the lump in her throat. "I swear."
