Compos Mentis [Rávamë's Bane: Book 2]

Part I : Chapter 12 ~ ... And The Road Ahead

A/N: So, I apparently made my Beta reader cry with this chapter. And I've got to admit, I cried a bit writing it too. You've been warned.

As always, so many thanks for all the love in reviews. Following the last chapter we've also reached the 500 review mark on CM over on FF.net! Which means that combined with LM's review count the Ravame's Bane series has a collective review count of over 1000! Whaaaaat?! Now I feel especially bad about what I'm about to do to you all in this chapter.

Hope you enjoy... or something. Hugs. x

~ ♛ ~

I crashed back into reality at the exact same moment Aragorn did.

Sharp gasps exploded from each of us as the link I'd formed between our minds snapped like a violin string put under too much tension. The mental recoil flung our hands apart, and I, being the lighter, was sent flying straight back into Legolas. He caught my shoulders just in in time for me to see Aragorn go crashing backward into a wide-eyed Boromir, who just about managed to stop the both of them sprawling onto the floor.

My head was still spinning, the room pitching, the scent of wild daisies and poppies heavy in my nose, and the burn of homesickness still raw in my chest. I didn't know what my own face looked like, but if it was anything like Aragorn's opposite me, I must have looked like I was one wrong move away from throwing up my lunch.

He was gazing only at me, eyes slightly bleary as if struggling to focus, but he wore the same expression he had in the moments before Tink and the garden had vanished.

Understanding. Comprehension.

He'd seen her. Talked to her. He knew everything now.

And he believed me.

There were actual tears in my eyes now, threatening to spill over with the vision of home still fresh in my mind. I quickly wiped them away with my sleeve before they could fall.

"Aragorn?" Legolas' voice came from over my right shoulder. His warm grip on my upper arm was still steadying me, but more hesitant than before. Something about it didn't sound quite right.

"She spoke true. Every word," Aragorn rasped, still looking only at me. His voice was steady, though he was still reeling from the shock of the broken mental link. "It is all real. She is real."

"She isn't dangerous," I said quickly, gasping around my words too. Then I realised exactly how ridiculous that sounded, after everything I'd just told and showed them. "Ok, she is dangerous, but she isn't malicious."

Aragorn shook his head, blinking away the last of the dazedness.

"No, not malicious, but not anything like harmless either," he agreed, getting back to his feet with Gimli's help. He was still a bit wobbly, but he managed to offer something like a reassuring little smile for me, adding: "However obnoxious, she is no immediate danger to us."

"You saw her?" Boromir demanded dazedly.

"And spoke with her. She has no ill will for us. Her only concern is Eleanor's continued survival, just as she said." Aragorn said, looking meaningful at the other man as he did. Boromir looked as if someone had struck him over the head with something heavy. He couldn't seem to stop looking back and forth between me and Aragorn, unable to form anything more than the outline of words.

"So it is really is true then. The lass truly carries a Maia within her," Gimli murmured, his rough voice barely above a whisper.

"Manwë's breath and balls," Boromir swore quietly, and if you've been paying attention at all, dear reader, you'll know the significance of a swear that vulgar coming from a man like Boromir.