Saving Boromir (A Boromir love story)

Chapter III- The White Wizard

Chapter III- The White Wizard

"The world is changing," the words echoed through Autumn's mind as she continued further into Fangorn Forest. "Who now has the strength to stand against the armies of Isengard and Mordor? To stand against the might of Sauron and Saruman, and the union of the Two Towers?"

"Hurry!" Merry called, ducking under a twisted tree root. The Hobbits were fast, and with how dark the forest was, the woman struggled to keep track of them and their movements.

"Can you hear that?" she gasped to her friends. Autumn took a glance over her shoulder but didn't see anything behind them. The voice echoing in her mind didn't sound like Melkor's, nor was it feminine in any way. This voice was deep and reverberated in the recesses of her mind. It frightened her more than the loss of her memories because it meant someone could speak directly to her, infiltrating her psyche.

"Hear what?" Pippin called back.

"The voice," Autumn gasped. What was this devilry? The phrase made her think longingly of Boromir and how much she desperately missed him. "There's a voice on the air, can't you hear it?" But the Hobbits didn't answer her. The situation reminded her of the Pass of Caradhas when Legolas could hear a faint voice, but no one else could, save Gandalf.

"Together, my lord Sauron, we shall rule this Middle Earth," the voice whispered in her mind. "The old world will burn in the fires of Industry; the forests will fall. A new order will rise. We will drive the machine of war with the sword, and the spear, and the iron fist of the Orc."

Autumn searched her mind. Who could possibly be speaking? It struck her that it had to be the same person who had spoken before: Saruman. He'd been looking for her recently, believing that she was a seer, which she had been before Amon Hen. Ever since her abduction with the Hobbits, her memories had faded. Perhaps it was some sort of temporary memory loss, but she worried that it might persist.

Her side and chest throbbed in pain as she pushed herself further into the forest. "I need a moment," she called out breathlessly, bending over and puffing hard. She hated running, even back in her own world. Her rule of thumb had always been 'If I'm running, something better be chasing me.' She was breathing hard, trying to ignore the side stitch that was affecting her.

Ahead, the Hobbits came to a stop, their eyes flitting around nervously. Pippin looked out over the forest, finding it rather difficult to see anything through the bows of moss and thick greenery. "I don't see anything!" he said.

"Are you alright, milady?" Merry asked, sweat beading his brow. He looked weary, but it was evident by the hesitation in his voice that he did not want to linger very long.

"I need to try and stop this bleeding," Autumn managed through gritted teeth. The red blotch on her tunic had been growing redder through the night as they were forced further into Fangorn Forest. With a shaky hand, Autumn pressed the palm of her hand against the wound in her shoulder. Her blood was warm and thin, oxidized from the exposure to the air around her.

Please, Estë, Autumn prayed quietly. Please let this work.

She channeled all of her energy into the will of healing the injury she had sustained at Amon Hen. Autumn thought of the Mines of Moria and how she'd visualized the wound healing on its own. "Please, Mother," she whispered quietly. She whimpered softly as the cut in her shoulder began tingling softly.

The same, soft blue light from the Mines began seeping from her fingers and creeping into the exposed injury. It was an itchy sort of feeling, as the red maw of flesh began to turn pink and healthy slowly. The new skin began the stretch, covering the exposed area and healing much faster than it had before.