Cat of the Fellowship // Legolas x OC, Boromir x OC

36. Runner and Kitty

"It is what it is," said Beregond. "I for my part wish I wouldn't have to cross the river tonight... Do you think I could borrow your torch?"

"Of course. I have plenty."

"Thank you. Best of luck, my friend."

"You too. Have a safe ride."

Beregond continued, but did not take his cloak off Kat. "Sorry about this, little Kitty," he murmured. "Couldn't let him see you, and soon there will be more guards over at western Osgiliath. But I shall free you when we are safe at the other side of the river."

His cloak smelled none too clean, but Kat understood the wisdom in remaining hidden and complied without fuss.

A while later Beregond halted the horse again, and there was a similar exchange with the Osgiliath guards as with the one at the wall before. Just like him, these men seemed dismayed to learn that they must stay and defend the river.

"If only the Riders of Rohan were here yet," said one. "At least then we might stand a chance."

"May the Valar protect us if they don't come," sighed the other guard.

Then Kat heard the rushing sound of the river grow closer, followed by splashes as the horse began crossing.

"Good boy, Runner," murmured Beregond. "Stay in the shallow part. I just hope you can see where that is, for I certainly cannot." His voice was shaking slightly. "That's the way. Good boy, well done. Too bad the last bridge is gone, or this would have been easy. Lots of rubble in the water, it seems, but your feet are sure, dear Runner. Good boy. Hope you're doing well in there Kitty. I think you had better stay, or you might be frightened. I'm bundling you up like a baby. Makes me remember when my boys were little; Bergil and Borlas. They– Oh! It's getting deeper. Strong current too, I imagine. Spring flood, you know. I'll just..." He shifted in the saddle, drawing up his knees. "I try to keep my boots dry. A good pair, these; bought them from old Gelmir down in Artisan Alley. Best shoemaker in Minas Tirith, if you ask me, but sadly he passed. They don't make boots like these anymore, you know. Ah!" There was a splash, and Kat felt an icy, damp patch grow on the cloak. "My boots! My poor boots. Let's get you back to the shallows, Runner. Come on. This way, I think. You can do it. It's darn cold, isn't it! May Ulmo protect us, and Uinen still these waves!"

Beregond was trembling heavily now, both from fear and the cold, and Kat began to feel nervous as well. What was happening? She could hardly move in the cloak bundle, tightly gripped by his strong arm. What if he dropped her? The heavy wool would pull her down.

The journey was already becoming more dangerous than she had anticipated, and she was not even alone yet. Biting down a surge of panic, she focused on remaining still, allowing Beregond to concentrate on the horse and help it cross.

"I can see land. Good boy, Runner. Soon there. Keep fighting it. Just another yard now, aaand... Yes! We're up! We made it!"

Kat breathed out with relief; cats and water were not a good combination. Hopefully there were no more rivers in their path.

Then it struck her that she had no idea what the landscape looked like ahead, or what kind of place this Cirith Ungol was. Why didn't she bring a map? But as usual there had been too little time to prepare. She just had to hope Gandalf knew what he was doing, and that her nose would be enough to lead her right.

The splashes were replaced by the reassuring drumbeat of hooves against flagstones as the ride continued, and at last Kat was freed of the damp cloth and could look around. They had left the black, unruly waters behind and were cantering along a dark street littered with debris. On either side were ruins of what must have been a big city once, quite on par with Minas Tirith, but now it seemed completely abandoned with the only light coming from Beregond's torch.