"We need to borrow your boat," said Vimes.
"Bugger off!"
"I'm choosing to believe that was a
salty nautical expression
meaning 'Why, certainly.'"
— Terry Pratchett, Jingo
17. Row, Row, Row Your Boat
When she woke up, Kat felt Legolas' arms around her; in his sleep, he had pulled her tight against his chest. She turned her head so she could admire his relaxed features, with his dark lashes framing his closed eyes*. How could a person be this beautiful? Even compared to other elves, he was something special, and the kindness he had shown her lately only added to his attractiveness. She would never get tired of looking at him.
It was at least an hour before sunrise, and the others still slept soundly, but Legolas was making little moves showing he was about to wake up. Just like Kat, he always woke early – probably a cat-elf thing. Though, even as a human, Kat had been a morning person.
His lashes fluttered and he opened his eyes. Upon seeing her face, his cheeks colored and he looked away.
Anything wrong? she asked.
Nay.
You look embarrassed.
I do? He yawned artificially, obviously trying hard to act non-embarrassed.
Yes. You can tell me why; your secrets are safe with me. That's another benefit with cats. They can't gossip.
He blushed brighter, and Kat's curiosity increased manifold. Please, I'm dying here. You know how curious cats – and women – are. She tried to catch his gaze, but without success.
If you must know, I dreamed something, he finally admitted. And nay, I shall not tell you what it was, he added, and stoically remained mute as a clam.
Kat kept prying until the others woke up, after which she reluctantly had to leave him alone. Darn elf!
When they had breakfasted, a group of Lórien elves came with gifts of food and clothes to the travellers. Gimli picked up a thin, biscuit-like cake and nibbled it curiously. His eyes popped open at the taste, and he quickly munched the rest of it.
Seeing what he had done, the elves laughed merrily and cried: "No more, no more!" They explained this was lembas, a special elvish waybread, and only a small bite was enough to last an entire day. Gimli did not seem to mind their laughter, and kindly complimented them, saying lembas was better than the best kind of honey-cake.
Kat tried a miniscule crumb too, and her mouth filled with a sweet taste, resembling buttered toast with apricot marmalade – her favorite weekend breakfast.
Next, the elves unwrapped clothes – elvish cloaks made according to the size of each Fellowship member, which were fastened with green, leaf-shaped brooches.The fabric was thin and light but very warm, and almost magically assumed the color and texture of its surroundings. The elves said the cloaks had been woven by Galadriel and her maids, and that this was the first time such had been given to anyone other than their own people. It was a great honor.
After breakfast, Haldir came to meet them. He had been sent to guide them to the river where the boats were moored.
Hal! Good to see you again.
Kat smirked at the face he made. Smirking with a cat's mouth was not easy, but during her time in this body, Kat had practiced it into perfection.
When they left Caras Galadhon, Nellas unexpectedly joined the company, falling into step with Boromir like it was the most natural thing in the world. Haldir said something sternly to her in their elvish language, which she ignored as usual. From his tone of voice, Kat was certain he had told her to bugger off and leave the Fellowship alone – but using finer words.
Let her be, Kat thought. She likes Boromir and I'm sure she's good for him.
Aye, I like Boromir, Nellas agreed.
This is an important quest. It is not for ladies.
Excuse me? Kat tried to frown at him, but it was difficult without eyebrows.
What is he saying? asked Legolas curiously.
He's being sexist about Nellas.
Sexist? thought Legolas, Haldir and Nellas simultaneously.
Being sexist is when someone believes females can't – or shouldn't – do certain things, just because they're women. Like, dangerous things, or technical things. Or when they believe women are better at taking care of children, or cook, or whatever.
Sounds logical to be sexist then, thought Haldir. Only females can feed babies, and though our Lady was once a great warrior, she laid that aside when she became a mother.
I am not sexist, thought Nellas.
Legolas did not reply, but he looked thoughtful.
Kat contemplated debating more with Haldir, but realized that in this medieval world, perhaps he was not entirely wrong. Here much of the work was manual, relying on physical strength, where men would have an advantage over women. And there was no good substitute for breast milk, or daycare to make it possible for mothers to work. Maybe it would change eventually, like it had in Kat's world, but that was probably far in the future still.
The hobbits regretfully looked behind them a few times as the huge mellyrn of the city disappeared in the distance.
"I shall miss cooked food," said Sam, sighing.
"Me too," Pippin agreed. "But these lembas crackers seem not bad."
"I miss potatoes. Haven't had a decent mash for ages." Sam sighed again.
"I wonder why the elves don't grow them," Pippin said.
"They live in forests, silly," said Merry.
"Why can't they plant them under the trees?"
"Because you need light to grow things," Sam explained. "And elves don't like cutting down trees."
"You are right about that," Legolas agreed.
Frodo was unusually silent, and Kat went to walk beside him, glancing up at his face. He looked tired, with dark patches under his eyes. Was he worried about which route to take? If he decided to continue to Mordor, the Fellowship would break up. Who would go with Boromir, and who would go with Frodo? And what should Kat do?
She still did not know who she must save. What if she went with the wrong people, and the person died? That would be a disaster.
Boromir too looked troubled and tired, Kat noticed. He was talking with Nellas, but it seemed his heart was not in it, and his gaze often strayed in Frodo's direction. Was Boromir also worried about Frodo's mission? Kat wished – like she often did – that she could have spoken with him.
The company trekked through the Lothlórien forest until late afternoon. The pleasant spring weather remained, and on the way, Legolas pointed out many interesting trees, while Gimli added to his pretty-stone collection.
There have been rocks along the way all through this journey – particularly in Moria. Can you ask him why he's begun collecting them here of all places?
Legolas repeated her question.
The dwarf thought for a while before replying. When he finally did, he sounded unusually serious, speaking in a subdued voice only meant for their ears.
"Before, I was so busy thinking about the great days of old; back when dwarves established new, flourishing realms, becoming rich and famous. I was hoping for that kind of glory to return. But then in Moria, I saw where that had led us..." His eyes became glossy. "It made me think. Think about what's important in life. And then I came here, and I saw these woods, and met the Lady... I was reminded of how much beauty there is in the world. And, I guess, I just wanted to keep such beautiful things around. These pebbles here are rubbish to some, I'm sure, but to me they are masterpieces, sung into existence by Eru Ilúvatar and the Valar. As well as the flowers, and the trees, and all of us, too. I've learned to value that, and to value friendship. And love." The last word he added almost as an afterthought.
Kat's chest burned and Legolas discreetly wiped his eyes. "I have learned to value friendship as well," he said.
To value friendship... and love. To accept it... Perhaps Kat ought to be brave like Gimli, and dare do the same, no matter how unrequited it was.
It was just... The thought of admitting her feelings and being rejected terrified her. For she would be; at least in this form. And she did not think she was brave enough to put herself through that.
/\_,,_.,
( u _ u )
The trees ended and they came to a lawn scattered with the usual golden flowers. A smaller river joined a large one here, and the grassy patch in the middle was almost v-shaped with water on two sides. Haldir told them the lesser stream was the Silverlode, the one they had followed into Lothlórien, and the wider one was the Great Anduin. Anduin continued south, all the way to Minas Tirith – and onward, to the sea – but first came the huge Falls of Rauros, so they could not go all the way by boat.
Many boats of various sizes and colors were moored here, and a group of elves had gathered around three small, gray canoes, making them ready for the Fellowship. The elves helped them pack their things into them, including several coils of rope – to Sam's great delight. It appeared the hobbit was something of a rope expert.
Boromir entered the first boat, grabbing a leaf-shaped paddle (everything was leaf-shaped in Lothlórien), and to his surprise Nellas climbed down with him.
Boromir said something kindly to her, but she seemed not to have heard; she was gazing dreamily at the water, leisurely dipping her slender hand into it. He shook his head in exasperation and helplessly looked at his companions. "What to do about her?"
Can't she come? I like her, thought Kat.
"She has to stay," said Aragorn. "She is not a part of the Fellowship, and I cannot see any way she could be useful for Frodo's quest. On the contrary, she will likely hold us back."
If we're talking useless, I know a candidate, Kat grumbled.
You were sent to us by a wise Vala. Of course you are useful. Legolas smiled down at her.
Nellas belongs here, thought Haldir. Taking her hand, he pulled her back ashore, kindly but firmly. He did not release her until Merry and Pippin had taken the empty seats in front of Boromir.
Aragorn, Frodo and Sam entered the second boat, and Legolas, Gimli and Kat the third. Then the elves pushed them out, and they were afloat.
Kat sadly waved her paw. Farewell, Nellas. I'm sorry you couldn't come.
Nellas did not return the gesture. She was smiling to herself, like over a secret only she knew about. Haldir and the others returned into the forest, taking her with them, and soon the underbrush swallowed them up.
Aragorn, Boromir and Legolas manned the paddles, steering their vessels out into the center of the Silverlode. They would practice their paddling on the smaller stream.
This reminds me of home, Kat thought. I love boats. But ours had a... future thingy that made it go fast without a paddle.
I love them too. I paddle to Dale sometimes, to help my father with the purchases. We cannot farm back where I live, so we trade a lot with the humans.
The company had not come far up the Silverlode, when they heard beautiful singing nearby. An elegant, swan-shaped ship came gliding towards them, and onboard sat Celeborn and Galadriel. It was she who sang, and she accompanied herself with a harp. The couple had come to see them off, and to invite them to a parting meal.
They returned to the v-shaped lawn, where Galadriel's maids spread the food and drink on soft blankets. The dishes were similar to the ones Kat had been served by the Mirror, and she ate heartily, knowing she may never taste Lórien food again. Beside her, three of the hobbits did the same, while poor Frodo barely touched his plate.
When they had eaten their fill, Galadriel's maid came with several parcels; parting gifts. To Aragorn she gave a sheath for his sword, which would protect the blade from breaking. She also gave him a brooch shaped like an eagle, inlaid with a green gem. It had belonged to her daughter, who gave it to her daughter – Arwen, Aragorn's betrothed.
Galadriel's strong voice turned dramatic: "In this hour take the name that was foretold for you, Elessar, the Elfstone of the House of Elendil!"
Aragorn pinned the gem onto his chest, and at that moment he looked kingly in a way Kat had never seen kings in her own world do. But then, the Swedish king was barely more than an expensive mascot; you don't need to look kingly to inaugurate bridges and hold the occasional speech.
A thought struck her. What did you say his House was?
Elendil.
Elendil... Elendil... Kat had heard that name before. But where? And when? She could not recall, but maybe it would come back to her later.
Galadriel had more gifts. Boromir, Merry and Pippin received belts, the man's made of gold, and the hobbits' of silver, and Legolas a large bow with a quiver of arrows. Sam only got a small box of dirt – but apparently it was magic in some way, and would give him an amazing garden in the future.
Kat was given a cat-size harness with bags on each side, with a packet of lembas in each. This is for when you walk alone later, so that you shall not starve in the wilderness.
Kat thanked politely for the thoughtful gift, but in truth, it scared her. She had known from the beginning she would have to leave the others eventually, but it had always been in the distant future, and kind of vague. Seeing the harness now, the moment drew closer, becoming more real. She would leave the safety of the Fellowship, walking alone in this dangerous world, and it terrified her.
When it was Gimli's turn, Galadriel said she did not know what a dwarf would want.
"None, Lady," said he, and blushed. "It's enough for me to have seen the Lady of the Galadhrim, and to have heard her gentle voice."
She seemed very impressed by that, even addressing her maids and husband, telling them how humble he was. Among their people, dwarves were said to be greedy.
Returning her attention to Gimli, she insisted he should name what he desired. He could not be the only guest who received no gift!
"There is nothing, Lady Galadriel." He was almost crimson now, and shuffled his feet. Then he bowed deep. "Nothing, unless it might be... Unless I'm allowed to ask... Nay, to name it. Then it would be a single strand of your hair, for it outshines the gold in the earth like the stars in the sky outshine the jewels in the mountain. I don't ask for it. But you commanded me to name my desire..."
There was a murmur of voices from the bystanders, and Celeborn stared at the dwarf with an indecipherable expression. Was he angry? Jealous? Shocked?
Galadriel smiled. "Dwarves are said to be more skilled with their hands than with their tongues, but this is clearly not true of Gimli. Never have someone made me such a bold, yet courteous request. And how can I refuse? I did command him to speak." She undid one of her long braids and pulled out three hairs, placing them in the surprised dwarf's hand.
Pressing them to his heart, the look he gave her was one of pure adoration.
Frodo received the last gift, and also the most curious. It was a small glass bottle, shining and glittering with liquid light. Galadriel said it was starlight, which she had captured in her fountain, and that it would shine the brightest when the night was darkest. It sounded strange and impossible, but this was a magical world after all. Gandalf had had a glowing staff, and the Mirror had been magical as well – so perhaps it was the truth.
It was time to part, and they said their last farewells. When the company returned to the boats, Galadriel and Celeborn stood on the beach, looking long after them as the current carried the three vessels away.
/\_,,_.,
( *ᆽ* )
Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream. Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream.
Kat... As much as I enjoy music, you have been singing this continually since we left. I thought you did not like to sing?
I don't. Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream. If you see a crocodile, don't forget to scream. Okay, I made that up.
Why do you sing if you hate singing?
It's catchy. Can't get it out of my head.
And now it is fixed in mine also.
Listen... Frodo sings something else. Steer our canoe there.
When they came closer, Sam had joined his voice to Frodo's as they sang: "... swift in anger, quick to laugh; an old man in a battered hat who leaned upon a thorny staff..." The melody was very sad.
Legolas' face fell. It is about Gandalf. He paddled away again. For me, it is too soon for songs about him... Tears maybe, but not songs. Please. Sing the one about the boat again.
Kat looked sympathetically at him. Better up. I can tell you a story, like I did in Moria. Would you like to hear Pretty Woman? It's about a hooker and a rich guy.
Hooker?
You're gonna love this story, I'm sure!
/\_,,_.,
( ^ ͜– ^ )
The journey south along the Anduin lasted for several days. The weather soon grew cold and wintry again, and the surrounding landscape was very bleak. To the west were the outskirts of Rohan, where the ground was greenish with a hint of spring, but to the east were the Brown Lands, an area almost devoid of life. The only living creatures the Fellowship saw were birds and fish.
They travelled slowly, allowing the river to determine their pace, saving their strength for when it might be needed. The passengers were mostly silent, each occupied with their own thoughts, except for Boromir. The warrior had begun muttering to himself in a way that worried Kat, and his eyes often lingered on Frodo. What was wrong?
Kat still rode with Gimli and Legolas, and while the dwarf's thoughts seemed to be kilometers away (remaining in Lothlórien, probably), the elf and the woman entertained each other with tales. Legolas always recounted real events, such as adventures, heroic deeds and tragedies of the past, while Kat picked among the many books and movies she had read and seen in her old life. When they were tired of stories, they practiced Westron, and Kat improved her vocabulary daily.
Be as it may with an eventual romance between them; she was beginning to realize she had never before met someone she got along with so well. Legolas was her new best friend, and she did not want to lose that, ever.
Only during the nights did she leave him. With Boromir so obviously not feeling well, Kat made a habit of sharing his bedroll.
The first night he reacted almost like Legolas had before: "Uh, this is not seemly. An unmarried man and woman should not sleep together."
"Miaow," she objected.
"Hm. You are right. I can pretend you are a cat, then."
"Miaow!" She nodded, and rolled herself up on his stomach.
On the fifth night of their river journey, Boromir finally explained the reason for his distress.
"Oh, Kat... I wish you could speak," he mumbled in little more than a whisper, his gray eyes filled with anguish.
She nodded fervently; she badly wanted that too. Soothingly she placed her paw on top of his hand.
"I cannot talk with the others. What they plan... It is madness." He lowered his voice even further. "He will take it. Frodo's practically giving it to him! And even if he somehow... I wish they could see how stupid it is to destroy the only item that could win us this war. A precious artefact..." He shook his head. "Folly..."
Kat did what she always did, and purred, while softly kneading his chest. He began to pet her, stroking her back absent-mindedly. After a while his hand stilled its motion and she heard from his steady breathing he had fallen asleep.
Meanwhile, Kat's brain worked fast. This was not good. Not at all. The Ring had to be destroyed, she was sure of that. It could not be wielded by anyone but its master.
During her story telling sessions with Legolas he had told her about the previous time the Ring had been seen in Middle-earth, and how it had corrupted the minds of the humans who found it. Now Boromir sounded uncannily like them. A precious artefact. The Ring was corrupting him!
Careful not to wake the sleeping man, she went over to Legolas' silent form. It was his watch, and when she entered his lap he smiled. Cannot you sleep, little one?
I worry about Boromir. I think the Ring is affecting him – badly.
If so, this is grave news indeed. Tell me.
Kat was just about to begin, when a movement by the river caught her attention.
Wait... I saw something... She crept closer to where the boats were moored. It looked almost like a log with eyes. A crocodile? No. She was fairly sure there were no such animals this far north.
A slim hand gripped the side of one of the boats, and a lithe form climbed into it. Its big eyes glinted in the faint starlight, and now Kat recognized the creature who had been following them through both Moria and into Lothlórien.
Wait. The boat... It was Aragorn's boat!
Suddenly Námo's words came back to Kat, as clearly as if he had stood on the riverbank beside her. "It is the one who climbeth into the king's vessel at night... If he perisheth, an entire land wilt be cast into oblivion and the line of Elendil be no more."
Aragorn was the king. Aragorn... of the House of Elendil! That was where she had heard it before. The line of Elendil... His children. His heirs!
For some reason, this creature would save Aragorn's heirs. She had seen it happen in the Mirror; how he climbed through their nursery window, right when the Illuminati orcs were about to murder them.
It's him, she thought to Legolas.
Who?
The creature in the boat, who's been following us. He's the one I must save!
A/N:
A few of you had guessed who it was already. :) Well done! More about this will be explained in future chapters.
By the way... What do you think Legolas dreamed about?
*) A note on elves and sleep: Some believe elves always sleep with their eyes open, because of one scene in the Two Towers which says about Legolas that "he could sleep, if sleep it could be called by Men, resting his mind in the strange paths of elvish dreams, even as he walked open-eyed in the light of this world." But this concerns an exceptional situation, where Legolas was in a great hurry (we shall get to that later in this story). He was not laying down to sleep open-eyed – he simply stayed awake, occasionally dozing off while walking. And as a contradicting example, we have the elvish captain and Thranduil's butler in the Hobbit, who slept heavily, even snoring, and seemed to have had their eyes closed – because they did not spot Bilbo stealing their keys.
Therefore, in my stories I let elves sleep normally, but they can enter a sort of 'wakeful sleep' in case of wartime or hurry. They also need less sleep than humans, going to bed late and waking up early.
Image Credits:
Screenshot from The Lord of the Rings movies.