Chapter VI- The Ride to Helm's Deep
The journey from Edoras to Helm's Deep was no more than sixty miles away. What what would've been a one-hour trip by car, would take an average of thirty hours at a moderate pace. But the company of Edoras and the Fellowship were not making a moderate pace, in fact, with the elderly and small children in tow, they were crawling along slowly.
"We crossed more than half of this distance pursuing the Uruk-Hai from Amon Hen than it will take us to reach Helm's Deep," Boromir grumbled from behind Autumn. He was upset by King Théoden's stubbornness as well. He stood by his belief that a good leader does not turn and run away from danger, but he also despised the fact that King had disregarded Autumn's warnings.
The Fellowship knew of Autumn's knowledge of Middle Earth, and although it was a little challenging to grasp at the beginning, they all trusted her. But Théoden and the others in Rohan didn't know the woman as they did. They didn't understand her gift, and with what Gríma and Saruman had whispered to the people in Edoras, they presumed her a witch. Gandalf had vouched for her, but considering how Autumn had spoken to the King and attempted to kill the Kong's adviser, it didn't look good for her.
"We are heading for a trap," Autumn admitted softly. There was a hint of anger in her voice and slight annoyance at the fact that he didn't heed her warning.
"That is what you said," Boromir responded hesitantly. "Is there anything you can say to him? To warn him?"
"I've already tried to warn him, but he won't listen to me. I can only hope that he will eventually see what I mean."
"Eventually?" Boromir arched his eyebrows. "So, we are to see more violence before Théoden listens?"
Autumn closed her eyes, seeing flashes of thunderstorms, floods of enemies attacking the walls of Helm's Deep, and the scattered bodies of men and Elves in muddied pools of blood. "Yes," she admitted. "There will be a lot of violence, but there is hope."
"Hope?" Boromir asked.
"Yes," she responded, looking over her shoulder to see the Gondorian who held her heart. "There is always hope, Boromir. You have given me hope."
Boromir beamed, leaning down to press his lips to her head. "My brother, Faramir, has always said something similar to that. He's always been the optimist, soft-hearted like our mother. Despite all the hardships that come upon Gondor and the White City, he always says, 'I do not believe this darkness will endure.' It's such a simple thing, this hope he has, but you, Autumn. You have given me this hope that I have never before had. I am honored to be at your side, my love."
Autumn's heart fluttered softly at his words. "My love?" She asked breathlessly.
Boromir smiler, squeezing her softly. "Does that frighten you?"
"Far from it, love," she replied, leaning back into his arms. She found that she fit so perfectly against his chest, and she was beyond blessed and honored to find herself in this position.
"I was so worried about you," he murmured, his beard tickling her ear as he spoke. "When we realized you had been stolen away with the Hobbits-," but she cut him off.
"I am no longer stolen away. I am here. I am beside you. I'm not going anywhere. My place is here, beside you, and our friends," she gestured to Aragorn, Gimli, and Legolas. "I'm here."
'Are you here to stay?' The soft voice of Melkor whispered to Autumn. 'What happens when your time here is over? After your quest is completed, will the Valar allow you to stay, or will they send you back to your world?'
The woman stiffened. The voice of the dark-haired man made her angry. How dare he taunt her like this? Did he understand that her knowledge could change the tide for the upcoming battle? She closed her eyes, trying hard to get her message across: leave me alone.
"They say the Elves sail for Valinor at the end of their time here in Middle Earth," Boromir was saying, shifting in his saddle. "Your mother is on those far shores, isn't she?"
"I don't know," Autumn answered honestly. "My knowledge of my mother and her whereabouts is still greatly unknown to me. She's whispered to me, met me once in my dreams, but she seems so distant. I guess, in a way, my mother is a dream."
"If given the opportunity, would you sail to Valinor with the Elves if it meant you'd meet her?"
Autumn chuckled. "I don't think there is a place for me in Valinor, Boromir. Besides, if I sailed from the Grey Havens, I wouldn't see you again. Or the Hobbits. Or Aragorn, ever again. I would not sacrifice my friends to meet a mother who never cared enough to make herself known to me." There was an unsettling bitterness that seemed to sweep over the woman. She seemed greatly distressed and emotionally distant toward her mother.
It made sense to Boromir. He'd grown up with a distant father. Although he had a relationship with his father, he knew from watching Faramir's tremulous bond with Lord Denethor, that not at all parents and children could live in unity. "Do you think your mother will revisit your dreams?" Boromir asked.
Autumn shuddered. "My dreams are plagued with darkness. Gandalf's presence kept my nightmares at bay, but with him gone, I fear rest will not find me. My mother too has been distant, and I've not felt her near to me in a long time."
They rode together in silence for a short time before Autumn announced that she needed to stretch her legs. Boromir pulled back on Ariel's reigns and to a stop. He dismounted quickly, reaching up to offer the woman a hand down. She smiled at the chivalry that the Gondorian provided, swung her leg over the horses' back, and inched forward into his arms. Boromir took her hand softly and slowly lowered her to the ground where her boots kissed the earth.
Boromir's grey-blue eyes sparkled in the late afternoon light. His hand went to her face, caressing her skin softly. "I want you to know how beautiful you look today-- and every day." He kissed her forehead and took the reigns of the horse, nodding at Autumn.
Autumn's cheeks were hot from the blush his words had given her. She surely didn't feel beautiful with her tangled, midnight-colored hair, and the blood and dirt stains on her clothes. No one had ever seen her the way Boromir did. He made her feel so important like she was the only one in the world that mattered. Like she was loved and appreciated. She knew right then and there how deep her feelings ran for the Gondorian.
She opened her mouth to tell him but was suddenly cut off the rumbling voice of Gimli. "Indeed, you don't see many Dwarf women," Gimli was saying. The firey-beared Dwarf who had taken it upon himself to get his own horse, which seemed massive. He was being led by the Lady Éowyn, who now and then would glance over her shoulder at Aragorn.
Aragorn was riding the chestnut-colored Hasufel. He seemed so comfortable as a rider, and it suited him as a Ranger in the North. Aragorn had been riding behind Boromir and Autumn since departing Edoras, and although he was very excited for his two friends and their budding romance, it made him miss Arwen all the more. These past few months had been challenging. Of course, he'd spent time away from his love in the past, but this was different... He'd told her to leave Rivendell and sail for Valinor with her kin. He still wore his necklace, the Evenstar, as a reminder of her and the years of love they'd shared. He knew he needed to learn to live without her, but he wasn't quite ready for that.
"And, in fact," Gimli continued looking down at the flaxen-haired maiden. "They are so alike in voice and appearance that they're often mistaken for Dwarf men."
Éowyn glanced over her shoulder at Aragorn for some sort of confirmation to what Gimli was saying. The Ranger rubbed his chin, giving note to his facial hair. "It's the beards," he explained, causing her to blush and smile profusely.
"This, of course," continued Gimli, happily talking about his people and experiences. "Has given rise to the belief that there are no Dwarf women and that Dwarves just spring out of holes in the ground!"
Éowyn erupted into fits of giggles and rapturous laughter. She was beaming, and for a moment, it even made Autumn and Boromir smile. How long had it been since their company had shared such a wonderful time? Had it been back along the bottoms of Caradhas when Boromir was teaching Merry and Pippin to fight with a blade? Yes, that must've been it. Time had flown by, and it was with a heavy heart that Autumn realized they were nearly halfway through their journey. Soon, she might not have a purpose in Middle Earth, and the Valar would send her back to her world.
"Which, of course, is ridiculous," Gimli continued.
"Ridiculous," Autumn emphasized with a wink.
Suddenly, Gimli's horse bolted down the hill, throwing the poor Dwarf from its back and rolling. His ax fell away from his hand. "It's alright!" the Dwarf called as Éowyn rushed to his side, laughing all the while. "Nobody panic! That was deliberate. It was deliberate!"
"Of course it was," Autumn mumbled under her breath, watching as the Rohirrim woman came to the aid of her friend. Her mood hung heavy at the thought of her time being cut short in Middle Earth. Without Gandalf present to keep her dreams at bay, she wondered what she could expect when night fell.
Boromir and Autumn, who were still walking their horse, came up beside the King's as he turned to face my Aragorn. Strider had been laughing, watching Gimli's interaction with the Lady of Rohan, but the King's presence faded his visage."I have not seen my niece smile for a long time," Théoden's voice was wistful and distant. "She was a girl when they brought her father back dead... Cut down by orcs. She watched her mother succumb to grief... Then she was left alone to tend to her King in growing fear. Doomed to wait upon an old man who should have loved her as a father." He kicked his horse and sped past the company and to the head of the line.
Éowyn stood before the Fellowship with a bright, happy smile, oblivious to what was being said behind her back. Her gaze was wistfully directed at Aragorn, and Autumn knew why. The Lady of Rohan was smitten with the Ranger from the North, but alas, it was not meant to be. It made Autumn a little sad to see the blonde woman with her budding feelings for Aragorn, knowing that this affection would not be returned.
Autumn had been in that same position many times in her own world, as many women had. There was nothing worse than unrequited love in an age of romance. And even when it seemed the world was over because of a failed relationship, the most beautiful things came unexpectedly. Her eyes drifted to Boromir, and she couldn't believe how lucky she was to have crossed paths with him. When her fiance had cheated on her so long ago, she thought her life was over, but in reality, it was only beginning.
...
As the afternoon crawled by, the placement of the sun alerted them to the little sunlight they had left. With the fear of wandering in the darkness, Théoden decided that his people would rest for the night. Due to the excess of the elderly, women, and children, it was too dangerous to continue at the pace they had been trekking. Boromir helped Autumn dismount again as they tied off Ariel for the evening beside Hasufel and Arod. Boromir volunteered to go off with Legolas to find some kindling for their Company's small fire.
Autumn took it upon herself to care for the horses, patting them as they nuzzled her for attention, peering at her with big, brown eyes. They were well-behaved beasts who didn't rear or bite, and the woman was pleased with how easily they were to manage. "You're all such good horses," she murmured to Arod, Hasufel, and Ariel. "I don't know what you saw in battle, or how hard it must be to lose one's rider... but you're all handling it well." All three of their ears flipped forward curiously, and Autumn wondered if they missed their riders or knew what she was trying to say.
Boromir and Legolas approached with armfuls of kindling and firewood. They were making casual conversation, and both smiled when they caught sight of the woman nearby. The jealousy between them seemed to have faded into a budding friendship.
"What did you find?" Autumn called to them with a grin. "Some food, I hope."
Boromir's eyes twinkled as he called back: "We have kindling, but no food."
"No food yet," Legolas added. "There is a lake nearby, and I may be able to bowfish enough to catch us several fish for a small dinner." He smiled softly, recalling how competitive he and Tauriel had been so many years ago. The two would sit along the rushing river leading out of Mirkwood with long threads attached to their arrows, shooting at the fish in the river and reeling them back up. It was a game to them at the time, but now it would be a way of feeding his friends.
"Fish sounds delicious," Autumn smiled, taking the wood from Legolas' arms. "I'll take this from here if you want to start on that."
"It would be my pleasure," the Elf responded, bowing his head slightly as he took his bow and headed back downhill to the lake
"It's been a long time since I've had fish," Boromir replied as he and Autumn made their way back to the little campsite where Aragorn was reclining.
"Me too," Autumn replied. "I can't even recall how long it's been for me, either." She searched her mind, trying to remember when it had been. Perhaps it was when she'd picked up a package of sushi from the Asian Cusine aisle at Hyvee, or maybe longer. Within a few minutes, Autumn and Boromir had produced a small, crackling fire.
Worried that the flames would be dying before the "pointy-eared Princeling" returned with the fish for dinner, Gimli started down the hill. He hadn't gotten more than forty feet away before Lady Éowyn caught sight of him. She was carrying a small cauldron and a bowl with a wooden spoon. "Gimli!" she called to him.
As soon as the Dwarf saw the bowl offered to him, he recoiled. "No! I couldn't!" he objected, briskly making his way past her in search of Legolas.
Autumn stiffened, knowing what was coming next. She turned to Boromir and quickly whispered, "Do not take the stew when it is offered."
Boromir turned to her questioningly. "What stew?" He was filling a pipe with the sweet-smelling weed that both he and Aragorn used. The Gondorian dubbed the herbs he used in his pipe as Westmansweed, and although he thought it strange for a woman to smoke, he offered her the pipe. He had seen her smoke in the Mines of Moria, and he knew she could hold her own.
She took the lit pipe to her lips and tilted her head toward the Lady of Rohan, who was quickly approaching. Autumn took a sharp inhale of the sweet Westmansweed, letting it fill her lungs before softly exhaling the cloud of smoke. A feeling of peace and easiness came over her, draining the tension away.
Aragorn was sharpening his blade with his whetstone when he was suddenly caught off-guard by the approaching Éowyn. "I made some stew," she stated, offering the bowl to Aragorn. "It isn't much, but it's hot."
Aragorn took the bowl from her hand gratefully and smiled. "Thank you."
"Would you care for some next?" she looked at Boromir and Autumn with a small smile.
"We're, uh, waiting," Autumn said quickly. "Don't want to ruin our, um, smoke."
"Ah," the Lady responded. "If you change your mind, please let me know. I made plenty."
Aragorn, beside Autumn, lifted the bowl to his lips and took a spoonful of the greasy broth. A piece of blubbery-looking meat fell into the basin of the spoon. He took an uneasy bite, hesitating as the fatty meat entered his mouth. Aragorn looked as if he didn't know if he should chew or not; he just looked ill. To his disadvantage, the maiden looked at him expectedly, waiting for his approval. He nodded stiffly. "It's good," he lied, swallowing.
Autumn was stifling a laugh of her own, trying to cover it as a cough from inhaling too much smoke. Boromir took the pipe from Autumn, bringing it to his lips to try to avoid a fit of his own laughter.
"Really?" exclaimed Éowyn in disbelief. She seemed happy enough and turned away, heading down the hill to deliver the stew to other unexpecting victims.
Aragorn tilted the bowl to dispose of its contents, but suddenly, Éowyn turned around. In a flash, the Ranger pretended to be enjoying the stew, burning his hands in the process. His lips curled into a pained expression.
"My Uncle told me a strange thing," Éowyn said, coming back up to the Fellowship's campsite. "He said you rode to war with Thengel, my grandfather. But he must be mistaken."
"King Théoden has a good memory," Aragorn sighed, and Autumn made a note to heal the burns on his hands once Éowyn wandered off. "But he was only a small child at the time."
"Then you must be at least sixty!" She kneeled down beside Aragorn, examining his face for signs of age. Aragorn scoffed, looking away uncomfortably as the woman tried to guess his age."Seventy?" she guessed, gaining a chuckled from Aragorn. "But, you cannot be eighty!"
"Eighty-seven," Autumn spoke up, rattling off Aragorn's age.
The Ranger smiled, not finding it so strange that the Other-Worlder knew his exact age. After all, she knew so much already that his age seemed a given.
Éowyn gasped. "Is this true?" she stood to her feet.
"It is as my lady has said," Aragorn nodded.
"You are one of the Dúnedain," Éowyn whispered in astonishment. "A descendent of Númenor, blessed with long life. It was said that your race had passed into legend!"
"There are a few of us left," he answered. "The Northern Kingdom was destroyed long ago."
"I'm sorry!" she apologized for prying. "Please eat!" she gestured to the bowl in his hands.
He sighed, and it was apparent that Éowyn would not leave until he had consumed every drop within the bowl. Aragorn took several pained spoonfuls of the stew from the bowl before Autumn cleared her throat. "Forgive me, my lady, but we were all about to have a meal prepared by one of our own company. I fear my lord Aragorn will spoil his appetite if he consumes any more of this aromatic broth you have prepared. Would you be offended if he saves the rest of his stomach for our dinner?"
Éowyn shook her head. "Of course not, my lady. I do not wish to deprive my lord of his own dinner." She reached for the bowl in Aragorn's hands. "May I take this for you?"
Aragorn nodded, handing the wooden bowl and its contents back to the woman. "Thank you," he said. Éowyn smiled, taking the bowl and hurrying away to offer the stew to others. Strider tilted his head over toward Autumn and Boromir, who erupted into laughter. "You knew how terrible it would be, and yet, you let me endure it."
"Only because you are so strong," Autumn chuckled.
"You're terrible," Aragorn chuckled, taking his own pipe from beneath the folds of his jerkin.
The three sat together in peaceful silence, smoking their pipes and soaking in the last few hours of fleeting daylight. The Westmansweed drained their bodies of the tension and achiness of their muscles. "Y'ar smokin' without me?" demanded the fiery voice of Gimli as he and Legolas returned from bowfishing.
"Please join us," Autumn smiled, patting the ground beside her. "I'll help Legolas prepare the fish." She got to her feet, patting Boromir on the shoulder as she crossed the campsite to help the Elf prepare dinner.
The Elf took his twin knives from his quiver, handing one to the woman and keeping one for himself. He showed Autumn how to clean the fish and fillet the pieces of white meat to be cooked over the fire. Legolas showed her how to use river-washed smooth stones for cooking the fish within the coals, and together, they prepared a much better meal than Éowyn had. "You're a natural cook," the Elf told her as Autumn added some seasoning to the fish from several herbs she'd gathered nearby.
"I've always enjoyed cooking," the woman responded, smiling up at the Elf beside her. She had missed her friendship with the Mirkwoodian Prince. "It was something I used to do with my father many years ago before he passed away.
"Our Company has been lucky to have you," Legolas smiled. "Never forget that you are here for a reason. Whether that reason was just to save Boromir, or something else, you are a valued member of our Fellowship." He reached out tentatively and squeezed her hand softly. "Amin Mellon."
"Amin Mellon," she replied. My friend. "Thank you for everything."
Legolas' blue eyes ventured to Boromir, who sat laughing with Aragorn near the other fire. The two men were bearded, hair falling to their shoulders, and a sense of wisdom in their aging, mortal eyes. "The Gondorian is a nobleman, Amin Mellon," Legolas said, turning to face the grey eyes of the Daughter of Estë. "He is fortunate to have your affection and know that it is not lightly that I say this. Any man would be honored to have your love. I hope he fulfills your every need." He dipped his head sincerely. It was difficult for him to bid his feelings away for the hope that Autumn's own would blossom for another.
"That means the world to me to have your blessing," Autumn replied sincerely. "Thank you. And thank you for bringing him all this way and being his friend. I can't imagine how difficult it must be for you."
"Boromir is an honorable man," Legolas stated, removing the hot stones from the coals. The fish sizzled under the heat of the fire, and the savory aroma was so much more pleasant than Éowyn's stew. "He is one of our Fellowship, and he is counted among our friends."
Autumn smiled, feeling relaxed at the friendships cemented among their companions. She was relieved to know that there was no ill feelings among any of them. The last thing she wanted was to lose one of her friends because of her relationship with one of its members.
"And how are you fairing since our encounter with Saruman?" Legolas asked. The events in Edoras had effected her negatively, but he wasn't sure how negatively.
Autumn stiffened. "Saruman said I could be corrupted. That I already might be corrupted. I just don't know what that means."
Legolas was quiet and thoughtful. "You are the Daughter of Rest and a Healer. I would assume if you were to be corrupted, it would be the opposite. The Daughter of Unrest and a Decayer, although, I'm not sure how the Dark Lord would be capable of something like that. Perhaps if you can commune with your mother or one of the other Valar, you might ask."
Autumn's stomach churned at the thought of the opposite side of her powers. She loathed the idea of being used for evil or as the tool of the enemy. "I don't want to hurt anyone. I don't want my arrival in Middle Earth to bring about any evil."
"You won't, my lady. It is not in your nature, but again, this is something you should seek the counsel of your mother to confirm."
She swallowed hard. "I will try."
...
Dinner was eaten without much talk. Aragorn felt a bit nauseous after the little bit of stew Éowyn had prepared for him, Autumn was lost in her own thoughts, and the other three men were just content to sit in silence. Fishbones were tossed into the fire, and greasy fingers were wiped in the grass or on the fabric of their trousers. "All we're missin' is some good ale," Gimli said wistfully, leaning back against Arod's discarded saddle.
"I'd kill for a cold vodka lemonade," Autumn sighed, leaning her head on Boromir's shoulder. He cocked his head at her curiously, and the woman chuckled. "It's a strong type of alcohol mixed with sweet lemon water. I'll have to make it for you sometime."
"I miss wine," Legolas said with a faint smile on his lips. "My father, King Thranduil, would have all sorts of red wines imported into our cellar. We'd have them at different gatherings or on certain occasions. It's been a long time since I've indulged."
Aragorn's face hinted at the smallest of smiles. "I too miss the enjoyment of spirits. Perhaps when this is all over, we can all share a drink."
"I have Gondor's most exclusive wines and ales in Steward's personal store," Boromir vouched. "My brother and I used to sneak down into the cellars and pour ourselves tankards of the stuff. It wasn't until we were staggering around, hiccuping, and reeking of strong wine, that our father caught wind of our ill-behavior. I think that's why, to this day, the smell of a dry red wine makes Faramir cringe."
The group laughed, sharing small stories of the drinks and foods they missed. It wasn't long before the sun had dipped behind the hills, and the fading streaks of orange, red, and purple began to disappear as well. A few stars began to twinkle in the changing color of the sky, and the moon began her path across the sky. Autumn leaned against Boromir, feeling his warmth behind her and his hand intertwined with her own.
To their left, nearby, the children from Edoras began sniffling. The young girl, Freda, and Éothain sat close to each other, shuffled around a dying fire. They were wrapped in blankets, but they seemed very much alone. Éowyn had been with them earlier, but it appeared the Lady of Rohan was still looking after other Rohirrim.
"Are you alright, children?" Autumn asked, turning from Boromir to face the children.
The girl looked at Autumn with a tear-streaked, dirty face. "I miss my mama," she whispered, a small sob wrenching fro her throat. Her brother wrapped his arms around her, trying to console her.
"Would you like to come and join us?" Autumn asked, patting the ground beside her. "We don't bite, and we have strong men, a fearsome Dwarf, and an Elf, who will look after you and keep you safe. Not many children your age can say they met a real Dwarf and Elf."
The children exchanged a look and slowly approached the Fellowship. Autumn scooted closer to Boromir to make room for the children between her and Aragorn. "Now then, let me introduce my friends. This Ranger is Aragorn, and he knows many secrets of the Elves. And this is Gimli, he is a noble Dwarf, and this is Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, and this," she leaned her head back against Boromir affectionately. "Is Boromir, Son of Denethor, of Gondor."
"And this," Boromir grinned down at the woman he so admired. "Is Lady Autumn, Daughter of the Giver of Rest."
Autumn blushed. "And you are Freda and Éothain?" the children nodded. "Surely, you must both be exhausted. Please, get some sleep. We look after you tonight."
"We can't sleep," Freda sniffled. "Mama always sang to us before bed."
"If I may," Aragorn said, taking a small drag of his pipe. "Our lady has an exceptional voice. She comforted our party in the far Mountains of Caradhas with her songs. Perhaps she would sing to you as well?"
The children looked hopefully to Autumn, and she smiled softly. "Of course, it would be my pleasure." She searched her memory for some sort of song that might bring the children some kind of comfort, some sort of enchanting melody. "Where the north wind meets the sea," she sang softly. "There's a river full of memory. Sleep, my darling, safe, and sound. For in this river all is found. In her waters, deep and true, lie the answers and a path for you."
Maybe this path was all about discovering her own path as the Daughter of the Healer. Perhaps she would have the answers she was looking for.
"Dive down deep into her sound, but not too far, or you'll be drowned."
Would Melkor take advantage of her questions and uncertainty?
Autumn kept singing, watching the children's eyes begin to hang heavily. "Yes, she will sing to those who'll hear, and in her song, all magic flows. But can you brave what you most fear? Can you face what the river knows? Where the north wind meets the sea, there's a mother full of memory. Come, my darling, homeward bound--When all is lost, then all is found."
...
The children fell asleep quickly, and Autumn leaned against Boromir, enjoying his company and the comfort of his touch. They laid back, staring up at the star-filled canvas above. His arms were wrapped around my waist, and her head was on his chest. Eventually, she began to grow drowsy, sleep preying at her body. Her eyes began to feel heavy, and the scent of smoke lulled to sleep and welcomed her into the arms of darkness.
Autumn found herself in the middle of a dark forest, the trees swayed in the wind, and the branches cast eerie shadows across the ground. All around her, Autumn could hear people screaming out her name. They all thundered together and echoed on all sides of her. The voices were barely distinguishable: Aragorn, Boromir, Merry, Pippin, Gimli, and Legolas. Their silhouettes could be seen staring at her from the shadows with bright, luminous white eyes. "Hurry!" they were calling. "There isn't much time. He is coming."
But Autumn found that she was frozen in place and unable to move. Her throat was dry, and her legs were heavy. She opened her mouth to shout, to say something-- anything, but no sound came from her body.
There was a sound like the roaring of hurricane winds, and a thousand pairs of feet rushing forward at once. Thunder rumbled across the forest, and lightning flashed overhead, revealing the impending armies of Isengard on the horizon. Two thousand hungry and emotionless eyes peered out of the dark at Autumn, gnashing their teeth and reading their weapons in anger.
Autumn found her heart leaping to her throat as she tried desperately to move, to rush toward her companions and find comfort in their presence and numbers.
"There she is!" one of the Orcs hissed, gesturing at Autumn. "That's the seer the Lord wants!"
Another familiar face stepped forward from the shadows. His long, dark hair was pulled up, and his face was stamped with the white hand of Saruman. In his hand, he carried a crude, twisted bow, and he snarled when he saw the Daughter of the Valar. "Find the Halflings!" he bellowed, and Autumn knew him at once to be Lurtz, the archer meant to have killed Boromir.
As if on queue, the shadowy figure of Boromir came running forward into the clearing. His gloved hands reached out for her own, touching her face to ensure she was safe. "Autumn, we must make haste! Get the Hobbits to safety! Go!" he urged, pulling her forward and freeing her from the ground she'd been unable to move on.
"Not without you!" Autumn protested. "I can't leave you!"
There came the twang of a bowstring, and Boromir dropped to his knees: three black-feathered arrows protruding from his body. He looked up at Autumn with pleading blue-grey eyes and whispered: "Run." Blood pooled from his mouth as he toppled over, dead.
"No!" Autumn cried, wanting to fight, but knowing she should honor his wish. She needed to find the Hobbits before it was too late. By the time she reached the timberline, she had found Aragorn fighting hard beside Legolas and Gimli. She searched wildly for Merry and Pippin, screaming their names into the darkness.
"Autumn," Pippin cried, as one of the Urk-Hai jerked him backward. His little hands clawed the ground as he was pulled into the darkness.
"Help!" pleaded Merry, as he too was stolen away by the servants of Saruman.
Suddenly, the whole forest went black, and Autumn heard nothing but the thumping of her heart and her labored breathing. Everything was silent, and then, a small light crept into the darkness. It was as if someone had opened a door, spilling in the warm glow from somewhere in the distance. The sound of birds singing was slowly becoming closer, as was the sound of soft, trickling water, and the smell of blooming flowers.
Autumn approached the light cautiously, shielding her eyes from the brightness-- it almost reminded her of what it had been like to see Gandalf in Fangorn. She passed through the doorway and found herself in a green forest, a small stream trickling by. This forest was blooming with life: bright flowers, butterflies, bees buzzing around and pollinating, the sweet songs being sung by the birds in the treetops. Standing below the trees was a tall man with bright, white hair and violet-colored eyes. The man wore a long white tunic and a black cloak that seemed to shudder and wave with sparkling stars. He was handsome, very tall, and his skin was the color of alabaster. She knew him at once.
"My Lord Irmo," she dipped her head cautiously. Surely, she knew her mother's husband would find her eventually, but she did not think it would be this soon. This soon, her mind scoffed. She'd been in Middle Earth close to five months now, surely he knew about her long before.
"Lady Autumn, we meet at last," Irmo's violet eyes studied her for a moment intensely. He seemed to take in her ragged appearance and the weariness in her eyes. "I have not seen you since you were a small child in your own world."
Autumn hesitated, wanting to choose her words very carefully. She didn't know Irmo's temperament, and she didn't want to upset him. "In my own world?"
"When my wife, your mother, Estë, left the Arda, I was torn. We had several disagreements, but your mother wanted to visit other planes and share her gift of healing with others who needed it. Time goes by much differently as a Valar than as a mortal, or even the Elf-kind. A hundred years can pass in what seems to us like an hour," his voice was tranquil, sad even. Nothing like Autumn had anticipated. "She was gone for two years in your mortal world, but to me, it passed like 2 minutes. When I'd finally located her, I found that she had fallen in love with a mortal and given birth to a daughter. You."
Autumn swallowed. She tried to study Lord Irmo's face but found his expression was unreadable. "You must've been very upset. I'm so sorry."
"I was upset," Irmo confessed. "And asking Estë to return to the Arda with me was very difficult. The relationship she had with your mortal father is much like the relationship you have with the Gondorian. I believe in your world, they call it "star-crossed" lovers. These relationships were not supposed to happen, and the butterfly effect they have causes many reactions in both worlds. You are that butterfly effect-- the byproduct of two worlds.
"You have a place in both realms: Earth and Arda," Lord Irmo continued. "Where you choose to spend the remainder of your days will be up to you and the other Valar. Estë always wished for a child of her own," Irmo's voice was soft, and his eyes held deep sadness within them. "She is blessed to have a Daughter with similar gifts to her own."
"So, you don't... hate me?" Autumn was shocked. From what Elrond and Melkor had said in the past, she was sure all the Valar would despise her.
Irmo forced a weary smile. "I don't hate you, Autumn, but I do fear what you could become. Melkor believes you can be corrupted, and already, you have noticed things about yourself that are different. The knowledge you possess of our world is dangerous, and you already know what Varië is spinning for her tapestries. The butterfly effect you have has already shifted things. You saved the Gondorian, and you will try to save so many others soon. But I implore you to think before you act."
He feared her and what she could become? Autumn shuddered at the thought. "What do you mean to think before I act?"
Irmo's violet eyes twinkled. "Aragorn falls tomorrow when the Warg Riders attack the Rohirrim. You wish to keep that from happening. But what is the reason why Varië allows that to happen?"
Autumn closed her eyes, thinking hard before suddenly realizing it. "Because Aragorn sees the Isengard Hordes marching toward Helm's Deep. If he doesn't fall, we won't be prepared for the attack of that size."
"The knowledge you possess is both a blessing and a curse. The King of Rohan will eventually learn to trust you, but you must also learn to trust yourself. You have great power and the ability to do good, but there is also the potential to be corrupted by Melkor and his evil. There is a slippery slope ahead of you, and you must learn to control this new budding anger. It is an open door into a darkness that you don't wish to slip into."
"I want to ask one more thing, Lord Irmo, if I may," Autumn was shaky, and her mind was burdened with all of the things the Lord of Dreams had said to her. "These nightmares that I have had recently... were they sent by you?"
"No, my girl," Irmo replied, shaking his head. "The nightmares plaguing your mind were not sent by me, rather by Melkor and his dabblings in the darkness. Your presence here in the Arda was not revealed to me until after your mother and Lady Varië revealed it to me. Melkor has found a way to block outside eyes from seeing his private communications with you, but the nightmares you experienced tonight were of your own subconscious fears. You worry about the safety and livelihood of your friends."
It was true. Autumn did worry about the safety of her friends, and it was no wonder that those fears would rise in her own dreams. It did give her a little relaxation to know that it was not the meddling of Melkor, but her own subconscious that caused this fit of nightmares.
"And the other Valar?" Autumn asked slowly. "Will they be as receptive to me as you, my mother, and Lady Varië have been?"
"I cannot say for certain. Námo sees you as a threat to the souls he believes are owed to his Halls, but as for the others, I do not know. What I can tell you, is that your bloodline, mortal and of Valar, gives you a right to both worlds by birth. Prove yourself a noble hero in this world, and keep your knowledge from the Enemy's hands, and you could glean the trust of the other Kings and Queens within time."
"And my mother? Does she even wish to communicate with me? Why has she kept herself away?" Autumn felt a lump growing in her throat. All her life, she had felt unwanted by her mother, and no sooner did she start to feel wanted. Her mother abandoned her again.
"She will not keep herself away from you forever, Autumn," Irmo promised. He had a promising smile on his narrow lips. "What I can give to you tonight is a restful sleep, free of nightmares and worries. Tomorrow you will need your strength for battle and strength to heal the wounded later." He reached out, touching her forehead with long, lithe fingers. "Sleep."
The sweet-smelling flowers and songs of the birds overhead lulled Autumn into a deep sleep. She felt her worries and anxieties begin to slip away as Lord Irmo blesses her with a night of dreamless sleep.
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Hey, y'all!
I hope you've had a good week. Sorry that this chapter took me a little longer than usual. Between how busy work has been as well as moving into my new apartment, I haven't had a lot of time to write.
I hope you enjoyed the continuation of Autumn's friendships, her blossoming relationship with Boromir, as well as learning more about her parentage and meeting Irmo.
Also, yes, the song Autumn sings is from Frozen 2. It's been stuck in my head for two weeks, but something about the lyrics reminds me of Autumn's journey and estranged relationship with Estë.
Any ideas for the next chapter? Let me know!
As always, stay safe!
Love,
Alexis
(6/16/20)