"YOU FEAR TO DIE?
"It's not that I don't want...
I mean, I've always...
it's just that life is a habit that's hard to break..."
― Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man
19. Kingsfoil
Boromir pulled his sword free of the dead orc and fell on his knees, carefully turning the golden-haired warrior over.
Kat let out an involuntary meow. No! Why was Nellas here?
"How could you be so stupid?" Boromir scolded, his voice distorted. "Why did you not listen to Haldir? This is no place for women." He seemed to have temporarily forgotten Nellas only spoke Sindarin.
She was smiling, her usual dreamy, almost serene smile. It looked odd on her blood-stained face.
Hello Kat, she thought. I saved Boromir. Last time I merely watched, and therefore Túrin was banished, and then he died. This time I did not just watch. I shall die in peace now.
No. No! You will not die. I won't allow it.
Nellas only kept smiling. Her blonde tresses were striped with blood; the orc who punched her must have struck hard enough to break her skin.
Boromir carefully cut away the top of her clothes, exposing the wound where the orc arrow had pierced her shoulder near the armpit.
A strong stench hit Kat's nostrils, making her not a little nauseous. Excrement. But also something chemical and tangy. So this was how orcs poisoned their arrows! The germs alone would make them deadly in a world where antibiotics were not invented, and in addition there was this unknown component.
Realizing the same thing, Boromir pounded his fist on the ground, hard. "Damned be that son-of-a-donkey orc and his accursed arrow! She cannot survive this."
No! Nellas would not die. They would clean the wound with an antiseptic – there had to be something. If only she could speak with Boromir and tell him to fetch some alcohol. Or salt. Or iodine? The problem was, Kat had no idea where to find them, except for in a pharmacy, and there would not be any around for centuries. What good did it do to come from the future when none of your knowledge was helpful anyway?
A branch cracked nearby, and the fallen leaves on the ground rustled with the unmistakable sound of footsteps. Boromir snapped to attention, drawing his sword.
Kat peered anxiously at the underbrush, but then she caught a whiff of a familiar scent and breathed out in relief. Aragorn!
When he emerged, Boromir too relaxed his stance and sadly indicated the fallen elf. "Why did she have to come? So brave and stupid."
Aragorn hurried forward, taking great strides over the many orc corpses until he could kneel beside Nellas. "The wound is poisoned," he said needlessly. "But I will see what I can do." Reaching for the pouch in his belt, he took out a fragrant leaf which Kat recognized. "I need boiling water for this, Boromir," he ordered.
Athelas! Of course! He had said the plant was antiseptic. Kat felt a tiny flicker of hope.
The Gondorian seemed glad to have a task, but Kat saw his fingers tremble when he began to prepare the fire.
Meanwhile, Aragorn placed his hands around the arrow, and in a low, vibrant voice he started to sing. Nellas closed her eyes, and her shallow breathing grew calmer. And then she slept.
Aragorn took hold of the arrow shaft, wiggling and twisting it, enlarging the wound. More blood poured out, but yet he continued. Nellas did not move.
Kat felt her jaw slacken. This was both among the most beautiful and most frightening things she had ever experienced.
"Careful," said Boromir over by the small fire he had started.
Ignoring him, Aragon's song grew louder as he coaxed the arrow out and tossed it to the side. When it was gone, he pressed a wad of cloth against the hole, stemming the bleeding.
Suddenly another two joined them, coming down from the western slope; Gimli and Legolas, armed with an axe and a long knife respectively. They had been creeping through the forest so silently even Kat had not heard them approaching.
"Alas! We should not have wasted time hunting orcs in the woods when we were clearly needed here!" cried Legolas. "We came when we heard the horn."
"So did I," said Aragorn, looking up from his healing. "How is the water going?"
"Soon boiling," said Boromir.
"Why is Nellas here?" asked Legolas, perceiving her sleeping form for the first time.
"She must have followed us. She was hit with a poisoned arrow but it did not strike bone. She may survive. I do not know..." He sighed. "I am glad you are here, though, Legolas and Gimli. The smoke from the fire might alert more orcs."
"My arrows are spent," said Legolas. "But maybe there are some I could use among–"
"Where are the hobbits?" Gimli interrupted, looking around wildly. "Where is Frodo?"
"The orcs took them," said Boromir, his voice distorted. "And it was my fault." He was shaking worse than ever.
The others looked at him with shocked surprise.
"What happened? What did you do?" Aragorn's eyebrows knitted together warningly.
"Here, it boils now. Help her first, and then I will explain. The truth, this time." He did not meet anyone's gaze, and occupied himself with smothering the fire and covering it with dirt.
Kat, who was the only one who knew everything, walked over to him and rubbed her head against his leg soothingly. Yes, he had done something very bad, but it could have been much worse. Gollum had killed his best friend to get hold of the Ring, while Boromir – a warrior – had not even drawn his sword which would have been the easiest way. And he had tried to make amends. Kat would never forget the look in his eyes when he ran into the crowd of orcs alone, fully expecting to die, willing to sacrifice his own life to protect the hobbits.
Aragorn breathed on the Athelas leaf before crushing it into the water. He stirred the hot mixture with a branch, and a pleasant, fresh fragrance spread among them.
When it had cooled a little he began to clean the wound. Kat looked on, feeling increasingly hopeful. It would work. Aragorn's skill in combination with the potent herbs and that mystic chanting would do the trick; she knew it!
He dressed the wound with a strip of linen from the hem of Nellas' chemise. Cupping her face in his hands, he softly called her name.
After a while she stirred and her blue eyes fluttered open. She looked around dizzily until her gaze found Boromir, and said something involving his name.
Did she really save him? asked Legolas, his inner voice surprised.
She fought like an Amazon! I mean... Like a very skilled fighter.
With Nellas awake, pale but stable now, Aragorn looked expectantly at Boromir. Fiddling with a bloodstain on his tunic, he sullenly told the others exactly what had passed between him and Frodo, omitting nothing.
"I do not think I would have hurt him, but... I cannot swear it. That Ring, it... It addled my senses somehow. I could not think clearly." He glanced at the corpses around them. "And then I came here, and saw the hobbits had been captured. Pippin was bound, and one other. Merry or Frodo. I tried to set them free, but the orcs were just too many... They carried them away." He put his face in his hands. "I brought this upon them. I did it! I have always prided myself in my honor as a man of Gondor, but this... This..."
"Nay. Nay, Boromir, it was not only your fault." Aragorn's voice was unusually soft. "We should never have split up in the first place. I should not have let Frodo walk away alone, and I should have stopped the other three from chasing after him when he ran away." He placed a hand on the man's shoulder, meeting his gaze. "You fought well, my friend. Here are over thirty fallen orcs!"
"I did not kill all of them. A woman had to help me."
"She is not a woman," objected Legolas.
Nellas spoke again.
She says you helped too. Legolas stared incredulously at Kat.
Only very little. I can tell you about it later.
You must be more careful. What if the orcs had killed you? He sounded angry, but Kat felt his worry underneath.
If you're worried, say so instead of scolding me, she snapped.
"It's a waste of time to pore over what might have been," said Aragorn. "We have to decide what to do now. You said the orcs brought the hobbits away with them; that means they need them for something."
"Aye. They took it. The Ring." Boromir told them what the dying orc had said.
"But how? How could an orc know about it?"
"Not all are ordinary orcs," said Legolas, who had rather demonstratively left Kat to check the corpses. "Some are much taller, and their bows well-made – of yew, like the ones humans favor. And look at this!" He held up a shield with a white hand painted on it, and a helmet decorated with a white metal shape, looking like an overturned V.
"An S-rune." Aragorn took the helmet from him, turning it over in his hands. "I have never seen that on orc armor before. What does it mean?"
"Easy. S stands for Sauron," said Gimli.
"Nay," objected Legolas. "Sauron does not use runes."
"Neither does he use his real name," added Aragorn. "Or white colors; his orcs wear the red eye." He was silent for a short while. "I think it stands for Saruman. There is evil afoot in Isengard, just like Gandalf said. Perhaps the white wizard knows of our journey, and of Gandalf's fall... some of the Moria orcs could have survived to tell him. And he has his spying birds, too."
"That's how the orc knew about the Ring, then," said Boromir grimly. "Saruman wants it for himself, and now the orcs will bring it to him!" He clenched his fists. "All is lost!"
"Wait, calm down!" Aragorn again pressed his shoulder. "If they had the Ring, what would they need the hobbits for?"
Boromir was silent; that was a very good question.
"I think Saruman only told a select few," mused Aragorn. "He kept it secret from the lesser orcs so they would not fight over it. And that means they have probably not checked the hobbits' belongings, and will not do so until they have brought them to their master."
"Then... they are taking the hobbits to Isengard," exclaimed Legolas.
"Exactly! And since the orcs carry them they cannot move as fast as otherwise, and thus we might be able to catch up!"
"What are we waiting for? Let us go." Boromir straightened his back, full of purpose again.
What about Nellas? Kat asked.
"What about Nellas?" Legolas conveyed.
I am going with Boromir, thought Nellas.
"She cannot walk yet." Aragorn frowned. "She ought to be brought to a healer as soon as possible. Back to Lothlórien, maybe... or to Minas Tirith." He looked at Boromir, somewhat apologetically. "And actually... I had not intended for you to go with us anyway."
"What? Why?" Boromir huffed. But then he met Aragorn's gaze, and understanding dawned. "You think I would try to take it again?" he said accusingly.
"Aye," Aragorn replied kindly. "And that is why – even if we catch up with them – we have to go our separate paths in the end. I think neither of us humans should accompany Frodo. It could be my turn to be seduced by the Ring the next time – who knows?"
After a short silence, Boromir sighed in defeat and nodded reluctantly. "If your mind is set, I will do it. I will take Nellas to Minas Tirith."
"You had intended to go there anyway," Aragorn reminded him. "And as soon as we have freed Frodo and he is safely on his way to Mordor, I will join you. Together we shall fight the enemy and make him so preoccupied he does not notice what Frodo is up to."
Boromir's face lit up. "Gondor will eagerly await your arrival."
What happens with my quest? What should I do? Kat wondered, and Legolas translated.
"Gollum will go where the Ring goes. You follow us to Isengard," Aragorn decided. "And now that everything is settled, we must hurry if we want any chance to overhaul the orcs."
/\_,,_.,
( ᵔ ᴥ ᵔ )
Before leaving the glade, they gathered all weapons, shields, helmets and arrows, piling them in a large heap.
Legolas cleaned the orc arrows thoroughly on the grass and restocked his quiver.
Sorry I snapped at you. Kat poked a black feather with her paw.
Sorry I scolded you. He stroked her cheek almost timidly. I know you can take care of yourself.
Cats have nine lives, you know. She tried to smile.
But women have only one. Just try to... He broke off. Nay. Actually... It is your life, and it is not up to me or anyone else to dictate how you live it.
Kat silently leaned her head into his palm. She wanted to say so many things, but was unable to find the words.
"See!" Argorn had spotted something in the heap of orc weapons, and moved a shield to the side. He picked up two daggers adorned in gold and red, and their matching black scabbards. "The hobbits had those. Maybe the orcs feared their magic and threw them away... I hope I shall be able to give them back." He put them in his belt.
"Why are there only two?" asked Boromir.
"Apparently they did not find the others. Like I said, their leaders probably did not want to search the hobbits too thoroughly and expose the Ring."
When they were ready to go, Boromir picked up Nellas in his arms. Their boats were over a kilometer away through rough terrain, but the strong warrior seemed hardly to feel the weight of the elf as he went.
Kat walked beside them. How did you get so good at fighting? she asked Nellas.
I practiced, of course.
But why?
Because if the Valar granted me another chance to make a difference, I would be able to take it. She sounded more serious than she ever had before.
How did you find us?
I borrowed a boat and paddled after you.
Down the rapids and everything?
It was bumpy. She chuckled. I liked it. I would like to do it again sometime. She looked dreamily at the glitter of the river between the trees, forgetting about her tale.
And then? Kat prompted.
Then I saw your boats in the distance, and everybody disappeared into the forest, shouting 'Frodo'. So I moored my boat there too, and went in the same direction as Boromir until I heard his horn and found the orcs. And then... but you saw that.
Yes. I will never forget it. You were amazing! You both were.
Thank you. She smiled.
When they finally reached the beach where their boats were, Boromir placed Nellas in one of them. He had decided to take the route Aragorn had planned before, and paddle over to the stairway by the Falls of Rauros. For Nellas' sake he wanted to get home speedily and paddle as far as possible. That meant she would have to walk down the stairs while he carried the boat, but Aragorn said it would not be too straining if she rested well afterwards.
Gimli and Aragorn pulled the other two boats up further; they would use them to cover the packs they had to leave behind. They must travel as light as possible on the orc trail.
Boromir put his belongings in the boat with Nellas, and Aragorn went through the rest to pick out the little they could carry.
"There seem to be packs missing." He counted them again. "Two. Sam's large, bulky one and another."
"How strange," said Boromir. "Could the orcs have come here?"
"Or Gollum?" Legolas suggested.
Aragorn surveyed the grass, but then shook his head. "Impossible to say now; we have trampled the ground too much. At least whoever took the packs did not take any of the boats, meaning they left on foot. Maybe we will catch up with them. Either way, we have no time to ponder over the mystery now."
And then all was ready; it was time to go on their separate ways after their long journey together. The Fellowship had already broken, and now it would break even further.
Farewell Nellas, for real this time, thought Kat sadly. Promise you won't die on me!
Do you think Boromir would be sad if I died?
I know he would.
Then I shall do my best.
Boromir said his goodbyes to them one at a time, and when it was Kat's turn he stroked her head softly. "Be careful out there. And... thank you. If Nellas is right, you saved my life, though I really did not deserve it." He touched her wooden picture. "And I hope I shall get to meet the real you when all this is over."
Legolas, can you tell him not to feel guilty. He is a great person. A good man. Tell him... Tell him I'm crying though he can't see it.
"You are too kind," mumbled Boromir. To her surprise he bent down to her level, took her tiny paw in his large hand and kissed it.
Last of all, Aragorn and Boromir grasped each other's forearms.
"Until we meet again," said Aragorn solemnly. "And may it be soon."
Boromir's eyes became misty. "I shall miss you, Aragorn." His grip hardened. "No... Elessar. My king."
Aragorn swallowed and blinked, uncharacteristically at loss for words. Then he impulsively pulled him into a rough hug. The men awkwardly patted one another's back before letting go.
"Hum. Off you go then." Aragorn's voice was a bit husky.
And so, Boromir paddled away with Nellas in the prow, while the rest of them started to jog through the forest.
"With hope or without hope we will follow the trail of our enemies," cried Aragorn. "And woe to them if we prove the swifter!"
Elf, dwarf, man and cat. The Four Hunters were on their way.
A/N:
The title of this chapter is the Westron name of Athelas. It is also a homage to my dear fanfic friend Raider-k. Her Thranduil-fic Kingsfoil is an amazing story, as well as the prequel Wanderlust (my absolute favorite Legolas fic!). I spent some very happy days last summer binge-reading just about everything she's written. :D
Image Credits:
Screenshot from The Lord of the Rings movies.