𝕰𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖆

Chapter Ten: Darker Roads

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"What was that?" Aragorn asked me that evening.

He'd pulled me away from the rest of the group, who sat in a huddled mass around a scanty fire, beneath a cliff wall with somewhat of an overhang, the only one large enough to use as a shelter for miles around. Aragorn's head tilted downwards so that his gaze was even with mine, and he folded his arms, his brows knitted atop his troubled eyes. I made a point of avoiding eye-contact, embarrassed at my episode earlier. As though the group couldn't have thought me any more of a liability, I go and do... that. Whatever that was.

"My guess is no nearer the mark than yours," I shrugged.

Without putting much thought into it, my hand lifted to my forearm. To the rune. My thumb grazed the spot where it was, and even though layers of fabric separated my thumb it, a pang of freezing pain shot through my thumb and into my hand. I jumped a bit.

"You seemed almost as though you had to get rid of it," Aragorn remarked coolly, his expression veiled in worry as he watched me.

"It felt that way," I answered, at last allowing my dim grey eyes to meet his own concerned ones.

They stayed there only a moment, however, falling back to the ground as a chill ran the length of my spine, up into my neck when I recalled the way the burning sensation brought about by nonexistent flames had torn through me. My body. Noting my discomfort, he placed a hand under my chin, lifting my head back up so that my gaze was level with him.

"Just take special care to stay away from the ring. For now, at least," he said softly, "Until we sort through this."

I smiled meekly, and he flashed one back, the bright white of his smile much more striking than that of the snow that glittered under the pale light of the stars. He held my gaze, his hand not moving from where he'd placed it under my chin as he looked down on me, the worry in his eyes gone, replaced by something I couldn't quite read. And as the seconds slipped by and his gaze remained fixed on mine, my heart rate sped up. And I could scarcely even begin to understand why.

"Thank you," I broke the silence, long but comfortable, that hung between us, "You've been a friend to me through this, and that's more than I could ask for," I paused for a moment, "Arwen is very lucky. You're... You're a good man, Aragorn."

I smiled again, though this time it felt somewhat forced, and I knew it didn't reach my eyes, another thing the reason for which I didn't know. But this time, Aragorn didn't return my smile, instead breaking eye contacting and slowly letting his hand fall from where it felt so warm and comforting beneath my chin, his arm falling limply at his side.

"I'm the lucky one," he said stiffly, "Arwen is the love of my life. A gem among her people."

"I suppose so. They don't call her Evenstar for nothing," I chuckled dryly, before turning back to the group.

He followed me, and we both returned to where the others sat splayed about around a pitiful excuse for a campfire. I sat cross-legged between Pippin and Boromir, who tensed, I noticed, when I lowered myself to the ground beside him. The flailing flames of the fire danced in untimely rhythm, casting long shadows on our faces, and a longer shadow yet on the path that loomed before us. No one spoke.

And this time, there were no walking songs to lift our capsized spirits, already forgotten wrecks beneath the smothering blanket of the sea.

✶

Shivers crawled up and down my spine and I pulled my cloak tighter around my arms. My hood was drawn, and yet snow still found its way inside, melting into my shirt. I plodded forwards, the heavy snow rising all the way up my numb legs to my mid-thighs, acting like quicksand and holding us all back. We trudged further into the quarreling winds, whipping snow in every direction. I could hardly see ahead of me, Legolas' shape being the only thing I could clearly make out. The others were faint grey silhouettes, obscured by the curtain of snow that barred my vision. I focused my gaze on Legolas' back, the fact that he was there, that I could see him, giving me some comfort. Tiny crystals of snow clung to his hair, looking like stars scattered about in the yellow-sky of dawn.