Chapter 33: Lothlorien
We were thankfully allowed to stay the night in that little outpost before we went on, Strider seemingly having won his argument with the marchwarden Haldir. I slept like I stayed up for three days straight and very nearly fell down the ladder in the morning, only being caught by Legolas grabbing my hair. What was it about him grabbing people's hair; first Gimli and now me?
Maybe he really likes redheads, I joked to myself. I made it safely down after that despite my headache returning in a milder form.
Once we were all ready to march, Haldir brandished a piece of cloth at Gimli. "The dwarf must be blindfolded," he said with a hint of a smirk. It fell when he added, "So must the lady."
As dignified as I could manage while being slightly hunched over with cramps, I raised a haughty eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?" I demanded mildly.
Beside me, Boromir went tense.
"You are far too perceptive for having such a broken mind," Haldir explained, "It will be easier for the enemy to see inside your mind than any other."
Ah, an actual security reason. "Understandable," I said with a little shrug, "I won't be responsible for who I throw up on, though."
The remaining smirks on our elven escorts' faces fell into disgusted uncertainty. That in itself almost made me smirk, and I heard Gimli stifle a giggle.
"All of us will be blindfolded or none of us," Strider said firmly, to Legolas's protests.
The elf then threw the most graceful hissy fit I've seen since the wedding all those years back, murmuring arguments and issuing glares. It was almost funny.
Except that right in the middle of it the blindfold got put over my eyes and suddenly I felt very, very vulnerable. My shoulders tensed up and when someone I didn't know put his hands on them, I jumped out of my skin.
"Calm yourself. We will not lead you astray," Haldir assured me, or more likely the whole party, as I heard uncomfortable shuffling around me.
Gimli grumbled.
"Not even the dwarf," Haldir added, much less enthusiastically.
With a slight pressure on my shoulder, I was nudged into walking forward. For hours I walked blind under the trees, only knowing that my friends were still with me when a muttered curse or hushed yelp would echo amidst the tree trunks. The hand on my shoulder never guided me wrong but I managed to trip over several obstacles anyway.
When one loses a sense, the others do get sharper and within a couple of hours I was almost enjoying the things I could hear and smell that I normally didn't pay attention to. The scent of the forest was cool and almost minty, and from the earthy mulch smell it must have rained recently. Birds sang and Gimli swore under his breath.
Except that I had no idea where I was and the last elvish guard I've come across had tried to slit my throat, so I was more than a little wary. Plus the cramps only got worse as I walked. Eventually I wondered how to phrase my need to stop as I began to walk more and more funny.
Noises of running water got closer and closer until it sounded like we were on the banks of a river. There, my guide removed my blindfold.
For a long minute I squinted and blinked against the golden sun and silver trees, simply relieved that I hadn't been walked straight into the river we now stood by. "Erm, just a minute," I muttered and circled to the other side of one of the massive trees for a moment to myself.
Apparently that was just enough time to miss something vital because when I came back around, there were two ropes across the river and no sign of a way to cross. The rest of the fellowship looked mighty uncomfortable as they stared at the thin ropes. "Are we crossing here?" I asked as I knelt down and let the river rinse my hands clean.
"It is a dangerous a permanent crossing. We use the ropes," Haldir explained with a gesture at them.
I looked from the ropes that looked like little more than white-grey string to Gimli's stout body in his heavy equipment. He seemed terrified of the fragile crossing, just as I was sure he had been afraid since entering the woods. As unsettled as I was, I felt terrible for him.
Of course Legolas was the first to prance across the single lower rope, barely even touching the guide rope. Show off, I thought rather sourly for what felt like the millionth time.
Now that one of our number had crossed, the rest gained some courage. Pippin was almost as agile as Legolas, practically running across, while Sam and Gimli were no more at ease than when climbing the ladder. I tossed my halberd, hammer, and pack to the other side before I took my first, terrifying step onto the rope crossing the river.
Yes, I am a Marine who was trained to work shipboard and on land alike. No, I was not prepared to cross a rather swift moving river on two mere ropes. Near the middle I was weighed down to just a foot away from the water and I froze in my tracks. I'll readily admit that I squealed, "Mommy!" despite my terrible relationship with her, as I clutched tightly at the rope near my waist.
"I made it; you can too," Boromir encouraged me from the other side.
For a second longer I clutched at the too-thin rope and whimpered. "Okay," I eventually squeaked with a short nod at nothing, "Okay, I can do this." More sliding along the rope than stepping on it, I eventually made my way to the other side where Boromir gathered my boneless self up.
"You made it. You're fine," he assured me, barely more than mouthing against the side of my face.
Honestly I wasn't sure if I'd be able to stand without his support, so I simply nodded and kept my grip on his shoulders. "Are you tired? I'm fucking exhausted," I whispered.
"I can go a bit further," he replied quietly.
Taking courage from him, I made my legs take my full weight again. "If you can, I can," I told him much more hardily than I felt, "Just not after nighttime." At that point I was pretty sure my body would give out on me again.
Very seriously Boromir nodded, scanning my tired face.
Thankfully Haldir announced as Strider shimmied across that it was only another three hours until we hit Caras Galadhon, which I really hoped was our destination. My back was beginning to burn something fierce again and it was like I hadn't even slept last night, I was so tired. There was apparently no more need for blindfolds though, which I was grateful for. It let me keep Boromir within arm's length in case I tripped yet again. (I did, several times.)
The entire company was quiet, which just didn't sit right with me. Usually Merry and Pippin would be talking, or Legolas would be singing, or something, but now the only noise was of our footsteps on the leaf-littered forest floor. Combined with our guards and the eerie woods, I was as wired as I was tired.
At sunset we finally found some settlement, half in the treetops and half in on the floor. Each building was splendid, inhumanly perfect, in a way that not even Rivendell could compare to; at least there it had looked somewhat man-made. Here the trees themselves had made room for occupants, it seemed.
Haldir gestured to a set of stairs that may have been branches on a tree thicker and taller than Tharbad's highest tower. "The lady awaits," he said mysteriously.
Looking up at the height of the stairs, I unashamedly collapsed onto my backside. "Nope," I said to nobody in particular.
Strider frowned at me. "But you must," he insisted, "Lady Galadriel does not grant many audiences." He offered a hand.
Reluctantly I got back on my feet, wincing as it stretched my pelvis in ways that I'd rather not describe. "Listen, I get that this is a big thing and I appreciate it, but I physically can't go any father," I told him bluntly, "Either somebody's carrying me up there or I'll see them tomorrow."
Whispers broke out among our guides and even Legolas's eyebrows shot up.
Boromir and Strider traded looks; obviously neither of them was up to carrying me. They both looked to be on their last legs after Moria and Gandalf's fall, almost as much as I felt.
"Are you still injured?" Haldir finally asked, scanning me from dirty braids to shaking legs. His eyes lingered on my scalp where the bandages had been removed from this morning.
"I got kicked by a troll, then ran over a mile, and now I have a literal meat grinder going in my abdomen," I told him, rather enjoying the winces that my description got, "And the meat that it's grinding is me. So yeah, I'm not feeling very well. If there's somewhere I can curl up in a ball and weep for the night, I'd really appreciate it." I gave him an unfriendly smile.
A bit pale, Haldir looked like he was trying to decide what to do.
Meanwhile Strider looked almost betrayed. "You said you weren't injured," he hissed.
"Technically I'm not, this happens every six months or something," I replied sourly. How I missed my IUD already; I hadn't had this much trouble in years.
Again I came to the conclusion that men were babies, as Strider seemed to be rethinking his entire position on women.
At least Haldir found words quickly. "You may stay on the ground. Lord Celeborn will attend to your hurts when he can," he told me, though I didn't see any messenger tell him that, "The rest of you must follow me." He then gave an instruction to another elf in their own language, telling some dude named Orophin to take me to rest in the prepared glade.
I was grateful that I wasn't supposed to understand what was going on. It was difficult enough to think of something to do or say when Boromir kissed my forehead and told me that he would be back as soon as he may. Or maybe that's just the effect he still manages to have on me.
"Don't get caught up in any spells," I teased him.
His lips went tight. "I will do my best," he promised.
We separated and a rather cheerful looking elf stayed with me rather than dispersing. "I will take you to rest," he said in the common speech, accent thick.
I tried to smile at him but it probably didn't turn out so well. "Thanks," I said quietly and followed him to what I thought was north; it was impossible to see the stars through the canopy.
We walked a few moments before Orophin asked, "Where is Gandalf?"
A pang went through my chest. "Dead," I answered, the reality hitting me like a cricket bat as I said it, "He went down fighting a balrog." Damn that balrog.
Orophin sighed. "That is hard tidings," he said emotionally, "Mithrandir was ever a force for good in the world."
The lump in my throat made my voice sound funny. "He always had hope where none of the rest of us could see it," I murmured.
We arrived at a large clearing before things could get mushier. A fire pit was assembled and a few elf women were setting up bedrolls and such to await the fellowship's weary bodies. Their gazes were more curious than anything as they noticed my entrance, just a glance up occasionally between tasks.
"Here I leave you. Is there anything you need currently?" Orophin asked politely.
I was terribly thirsty now that the end of my journey was in sight. "Is that brooke okay to drink from?" I asked, pointing to a gentle little falling stream. To make sure my point got across I pulled my canteen from a pocket of my bag and shook it; a pitiful trickle splashed inside.
He confirmed it and then with a respectful dip of his head (which I returned) he disappeared off into the woods.
At the very least I had the composure to not dunk my whole head under the tiny falls, instead emptying the stale water from my canteen and rinsing it before I refilled it. Then I needed to refill it again.
Once I had drunk my fill, I glanced at all the sleeping spaces. A little hollow in the roots of a tree caught my attention as a woman set down a bedroll there. It would probably be sheltered from the morning sun and after so long in danger, I rather fancied having my back against something as I slept. Not counting Boromir. "Can I sleep there?" I asked her, pointing at the cushioning she had just set down.
She frowned in a way that said she didn't understand.
Okay, time to test the translation spell again. I need elvish, I thought as I asked again, "Can I sleep there?" Again I made sure my own expression was unthreatening and I pointed at the bedroll.
This time she got the idea. "Yes, the hollow was meant for you," she assured me in elvish, "I will put up the curtain and be gone."
I smiled and nodded. Whether she had understood what I said was a mystery but I couldn't argue with the results; a set of sheer white curtains were set up at the entrance to the hollow and just like the woman had said, I was left to myself in the darkness.
Without any distractions, everything hurt even worse. I barely slid my pack off my shoulders and when the weight left me, I hissed at the relieved discomfort. Every movement was protested until I crawled onto the bedroll barefoot and wished I had the energy to change out of my dirty clothes. What better way to repay these people for their generosity than to dirty up their linens, I thought sarcastically as I pulled a nice heavy blanket over myself.
The only reason I wasn't out like a light was because resting my sore body just made it hurt worse for several long minutes. The loosening of tense muscles made me hiss and nearly tense up again. My head throbbed, reminding me that it needed to be examined again soon.
When I wake up I'll do it, I told myself.
A full body shudder overtook me and suddenly I was out cold.
There was something about the Lady of the Wood that terrified Boromir at the same time that he was left in awe of her. This being was older than the sun and still lived, the wisdom of Ages in her deep eyes as she had glanced from one member of the fellowship to the next. How could one not feel chilled by the mere concept of her?
Not even mentioning that she had spoken inside his mind. What would he give to see the Quest succeed? She had asked and he hadn't been able to come up with a response.
It felt like he had already sold his soul. What was left for him to give?
Those ancient eyes were judging him, he could tell without a single word being spoken. For once he felt lacking and incomplete; he wanted to hide. Unable to hold her gaze, he had looked at his muddy, bloody boots until she turned her gaze to someone else.
The Ring bothered him night and day, never giving him rest. He felt weak, found himself more enthralled with it by the day even as his hatred of it grew. This thing was manipulating him and he knew it.
But did that matter if Gondor was saved?
Boromir was horrified by his own thoughts. There was no pretending that they were the whispers of the Ring anymore, not even the most benign. How could he continue the Quest? How could he not?
His thoughts troubled him the whole way back to the base of the tree. There was no sign of Cass and the thought briefly took him from his dark thoughts. "Where did you put my wife?" he asked the marchwarden, Haldir, who led them away.
"Patience, man of Gondor," the elf cautioned, "I am taking you to her now."
A well appointed clearing nearby was spread with bedrolls and blankets, a tiny fall providing water. Again Boromir wondered where Cass was before he noticed a curtain hung up under some raised tree roots. Before he opened the curtain, he glanced at the marchwarden to make sure.
"Your wife lies sleeping inside. Lord Celeborn will see to her head when she wakes," Haldir assured him before he began telling everyone the rules of the place. There weren't many and Boromir essentially ignored the speech in favor of sliding into the little alcove that had been set up for Cass.
It was small enough that he had to duck his head and there was just enough width for him to lay down fully, even with Cass taking up most of the floor space. She was half off the bedroll and covered up to her neck in blankets. A quiet snore was reassuring.
How could she sleep so well now, when usually she would wake every time there was movement in their camps? When not only Boromir's heart was torn into pieces but the entire fellowship's?
Like she sensed his thoughts, Cass stirred and cracked her eyes open. "B'r'm'r?" she mumbled, squinting at him in the dark.
"Yes," he replied and hoped that his voice didn't show his inner turmoil.
She nodded, half to herself, and muttered, "Be right back," as she crawled under the curtain.
There was a noise of greetings from the rest of the fellowship, answered by some unintelligible mumbling, before her footsteps paced away.
Left to himself, Boromir heard the Ring whisper that Cass was a danger to Gondor. She was from the far east beyond the borders of Middle Earth, it reminded him: a strange place that she had called evil and compared to Mordor itself, perhaps even allied to it. Her true loyalty was to the country she had bled for, Tharbad second, and Gondor third; if she had any attachment at all to a place whose lord had rejected her so thoroughly.
No, he told himself, frustratedly gathering his hair in his hands. While her loyalties may be divided, she was fully against Mordor and that was what mattered right now. Everything else could come after the Quest.
But wasn't he trying to save Gondor on this Quest? Any threat to it was unacceptable and must be dealt with.
In the middle of his frustrated argument with himself, the curtain was lifted just enough for Cass to crawl back into the near-darkness. "Hey," she greeted him in barely a murmur, "Sleeeep." She nodded sagely with that drawn out word and collapsed back onto the bedroll, barely kicking the blanket into place before she fell back asleep.
Yes, sleep would help, Boromir decided. Despite that it had done nothing for over a month except give him nightmares.
He pulled his boots and outer clothing off but slept in his chainmail, with a dagger in easy reach. Just in case.
Eventually I woke enough to decide that I was hungry, and while still tired I at least hurt much less. Part of that I attributed to having a nice heating pad in the form of my rather restless husband sharing the tiny nook with me. He wasn't there at the moment and I was able to yawn, crack my joints, and pull my boots on in sleepy privacy.
Honestly I didn't expect much when I crawled out into the campsite. Maybe a hello from whoever was around and noticed.
Instead I got a chorus of, "Cass!" and, "You're awake!" from most of the fellowship. Legolas was of course nowhere in sight and Boromir was off somewhere, but for some reason there was relief in everyone remaining.
Confused, I squinted at Strider. "What?" I asked and bent backward to crack my spine.
"You have been asleep for nearly two days," he provided, "Had you still slept come the morning, I would have been concerned."
Oh. No wonder I felt that full sort of ache in my pelvis. To reassure him and the hobbits, I shrugged casually. "It happens sometimes when I push myself too far," I said, before excusing myself for a short trip to the chamberpot.
Just saying, I love the elves' sense of hygiene. The pot was inside a hollowed out tree beside a little brook, soaps waiting on a ledge to be used afterward. Human settlements could take some pointers.
It made me wonder how things were going in Tharbad. We were in that awful part of winter where very little grew and most everyone was stuck inside while it was cold; tempers always frayed at that point. Who was on the caravan while I was away? How was Kali handling the medical ward on her own, and was Stevie adjusting well to his prosthetics? They'd have loads to tell me when I finally got back, I mused.
And I'd have loads of stuff to tell them. If I managed to stop over in Rohan on the way back, Andy, Mackey, and Matt would be very interested in why Moria was such a big no-no; I'd have to tell Magni why he hadn't heard from his kinsmen in so many years. I was sure that the balrog would amaze and frighten Rosie in equal measure during story-time.
Movement from behind me made me freeze. "Who's there?" I questioned and turned my head.
Ah, Haldir again. Despite his animosity toward Gimli, he'd been fine with me so far; my shoulders loosened and I turned the full way around to greet him. "Hey, uh, is everything alright?" I asked as I wrung my hands out.
"The Lord and Lady will see you now," he told me with that crazy elvish intensity, "Follow me." He then spun around and began to rather slowly walk away from the fellowship's camp.
Shit, I thought.
Not those goddamned stairs.