Saving Boromir (A Boromir love story)

Chapter IV: Thèoden King

Chapter IV- Théoden King

The road from Fangorn to Edoras was a long one. It was already mid-afternoon when the six companions made their way to Rohan's capital city. The warm sunlight bore down on them, but the fast pace of their horses gave a gentle breeze, which kept them cool. Autumn found herself feeling safer than ever as she sat behind Boromir on the grey horse, Bree. Her arms were securely wrapped around his waist.

The faint smell of leather and pine was on him, and despite the musty state they were all in, she found his presence and closeness comforting. She couldn't believe that, against all the odds, she had, in fact, saved Boromir. He was alive now, and it was her doing. She buried her face into the scratchy wool cloak that matched her own.

"Are you alright?" he asked her, looking over his shoulder. Boromir's auburn hair shone like rubies in the sunlight, gleaming like precious stones. His beard had become long and in need of a trim, but Autumn thought he never looked more handsome.

"Yes," she promised sincerely. "I'm just so relieved to be reunited with you and our companions. Part of me, I must confess, worried that I might not see you ever again."

"And yet here I am," He responded with a gleaming smile.

The sky was beginning to grow dark as the sun began to sink beneath the mountains in the west. Gandalf slowed Shadowfax and urged the others to do the same. He smiled at them as they drew their horses into line beside his own. "What's wrong, Gandalf?" Autumn asked worriedly.

"We should rest for the evening," Gandalf said. "You are all weary, and I fear we must all be alert tomorrow when we reach Edoras." The Wizard looked at the maiden, knowing. "Surely, you must agree?"

Autumn thought hard, remembering flashes of fistfights and an old, sunken King. Beside the King crooned a weasely, greasy man who whispered lies and deceit to the man. "You're right," she decided. "Rest is in order. You're all exhausted," she looked at Aragorn, Gimli, Boromir, and Legolas. They looked weary, sore, and in need of proper sustenance.

Within an hour, the company had settled in around a small clearing surrounded by high walls of stone and rock. Legolas had managed to hunt a pair of rabbits and game birds that were nearby and brought them back promptly. Aragorn skinned them while Boromir and Gimli prepared a small fire. Gandalf and Autumn waited nearby, watching the men work.

"You are worried?" Gandalf asked, noticing the creases in Autumn's forehead as she seemed deep in thought.

"Yes," she replied slowly. "I've been thinking a lot about what happens when we reach Edoras. The King is under the control of Saruman, which means he will know who I am when we reach Meduseld. I suppose I'm a little scared of what could happen. Will the people be afraid of me? What if they call me a witch? Surely, the King will think I'm some sort of ill-baring Seer."

"That is a fair thing to be worried about, Lady Autumn," Gandalf agreed. "But you must also realize that you're here for a reason. What knowledge you do have could be useful to protect Rohan and its people."

Autumn nodded, exhaling deeply as she rubbed her eyes wearily.

Boromir watched the woman with great concern as he and Gimli worked on the fire. The kindling was nothing more than dry prairie grass and what wood they did have had been searched for previously. "We won't have a fire much longer than to cook this meat," Gimli grumbled. "If we can even call this meat."

"It's better than nothing," Aragorn said quickly, nodding thanks to Legolas, who seemed a bit offended.

"I would very much like to have one of those Dwarven meals you spoke of before, Gimli," Boromir chuckled, his stomach beginning to growl. The thought of brisket, a full tankard of ale, and a sweet apple crisp took him back to the banquets in Minas Tirith. He hoped that soon, those types of meals would be available to them once more.