I yawned as I looked out the entrance of the cave. Boromir was resting peacefully and her three companions had been gone for a while. The rain had stopped a few hours after my companions left and the sun had disappeared behind the hoizon only moments ago, causing the cave to darken. Shadows flickered around the empty cavern and I shifted in my seat next to Boromir's cot.
I could hear Del quietly munching on some grass outside and Boromir's strangled breathing. I sighed and rose from my spot. I gathered the torches from their wall holders and lit them in the fire before placing them back.
When I told Legolas that the cave wasn't very stocked, that was a lie. The cave was indeed well stocked.
After my boredum got the best of me, I chose to go through all the supplies. There were mutliple trunks full of men's clothing ranging from vambraces to cloaks to boots.
There were even trunks containing weapons. I was delighted to have found a lightweight bow and a quiver of arrows among said weapons. It was lightly used but that made it all the more better so the string wouldn't be so taut. I restocked my throwing knives and was satisfied so I removed my weapons and placed them on a long table.
I quickly unclasped my cloak from around my shoulders and drapped it across the back of a chair. Boromir began to shake so I sought out more thick blankets and was pleased when I found multiple. Drapping them over his shaking form, I tucked them in so that they would hopefully warm him.
But, my most interesting discovery was a large, leather bound book. The pages were blank but a few chosen pages were littered with simple drawings. There was also a pack of charcol sticks used to draw, one stick being slightly shorter than the others. I was immidiately tempted to just pour out things onto the blank parchement but restrained myself.
I was not the most creative artist.
I ventured out into the darkening twilight and found Del standing between two trees. His ears perked when he heard me and I smiled. His fur and mane were still damp from the rain and there was a small paddock in the back of the cave for a few horses. I decided to lead him inside and I fed him part of a bale of hay and brushed out his fur.
Suddenly, Boromir's sleeping form cried out and I leapt over the railing of the paddock and rushed to his side. His eyes were still shut and he began to mumble things. I guessed him to be having a nightmare and I took a cool cloth and placed it on his forehead.
"Sleep well, Prince of Gondor. May your dreams be peaceful and calm..." I cooed into his ear as I stroked his autumn colored hair. Almost immidiately, he grew quiet. Apparently the sweet sound of the elvish words calmed him. I looked over his bandaged chest to find a few drops of blood coloring the white material.
With a sigh, I drew my dagger from the sheath on my thigh, the only weapon I still caried do to common uses. I gently cut the dirtied bandages and pulled them from around his body. There was a small amount of blood pooled in the holes in his chest. It dripped out slightly but I quickly caught it with the used bandages. I gently rolled Boromir onto his right side and cleaned the wounds on his back. I used some of the cream and then bandaged it once more, more tightly.
On the frontal wounds, I applied only a small amount of King's foil before wrapping them as well.
It was late at night now and I stepped outside into the cool air. The temperature dropped significantly, making it uncomfortably cold. But I was rather accustomed to it, growing up in the cold winds of the North.
After a sharp intake of breath, I released it to find my breath dissipate in a puff of smoke. But suddenly, a noise caught my attention. It sounded like the rattling of metal and my eyes widened. I turned my head, trying to hear more noises. I could faintly make out the distinct noises of an orc's grunt.
I raced inside the cave and doused all the torches and I even dumped a bucket of water on the fire. I hastily warned Del to stay quiet in elvish and I strapped my sword to my side. I pulled a stool up next to Boromir's bed and waited. The curtain of vines was in place, successfully hiding the mouth of the cave.
Suddenly, Boromir lashed out and called for Frodo in his sleep. "Frodo! Forgive me!" his uninjured hand reached out into the open air.
"Boromir! Shut it or we'll be caught!" I mumbled quietly into his ear. He continued to whimper loudly and I mopped a hand over my face. He was going to get me killed.
"May it be an evening star, shines down upon you. May it be when darkness falls, your heart will be true..." I sang lowly but sweetly into his ear. He stopped crying out and his face slowly relaxed back into one of peace.
Sitting back on the chair, I gripped the sword tightly in my hands, waiting for them to come crashing through the vines, torches alight and rusty blade drawn. Sitting up straight, my hazel eyes carefully watched as the small army passed by their small hiding place.
It would be a long night.
Third Person's POV
Quwen was walking through a heavily shadowed area, fog was billowing around her feet. Crunching could be heard underneath her boots but she was to scared to look down to see what it was. When she risked a glance, all she saw was bones. Large and small, thick and a pale white in the dim light. She could make out both human skulls and horse skeletons a few feet away, making her stomach churn.
When she brought her eyes back up from the ground, Aragorn was standing before her, a good distance away. She smiled brightly and was about to rush forward but noticed somthing different about him. An old worn crown of Gondor rested atop his head. His face was significantly paler and there was no spark in his stone-blue eyes.
"Aragorn?" She called to him but he made no move to signal that she was even here. Suddenly, he began backing up and she followed him. His pale form stumbled over a cliff and she watched in horror as he fell into the dark waters below. She collapsed to her knees and called to him, willing his form to resurface and wave up at her.
She could feel someone behind her and tears streamed down her face. When she turned she was met with an eqaully pale Boromir, his wounds were rotting and infected. Behind him, the Great Eye burned with such an intenisty she could not look at it.
She jumped in her sleep and she slowly lifted her head from Boromir's cot. She looked up at his face and found that he was still asleep, to her relief. She could only guess the smart remarks he would say had he been awake at the moment.
He would say something about how it was not professional for her to fall asleep while she was supposed to be keeping watch.
The dream that she just had was terrifying. Was it fortelling the future or did this mean that Aragorn was dead? He couldn't be, having only left her half a day ago. She already missed him and just wished to see his face once more so that her fears could be proven false.
Quwen reached a hand up and felt Boromir's forehead. To her relief, his fever was gone and his face was relaxed. So at least his condition had improved.
She mumbled a few quiet words in elvish and stroked his hair, hoping her actions would make him relax once more. He grumbled under his breath before moving his uninjured arm and tucking it back under the blankets. Breeze stood up and stretched out her back, yawning loudly.
Sunlight filtered in through the vine curtain, signaling that day was upon them. She pushed back the curtain and stepped outside, but only for a moment. The morning air was crisp but not cold and the day would heat up quickly without the cover of the clouds.
She heard a nicker from inside the cave and returned quickly. Del had his head stretched over the top rung of the fence containing him. Quwen opened the gate and just let him find his own way out.
Quwen stoked the fire before walking back to the curtain of vines. She kept it propped open by tying it back with a small amount of rope. Sunlight filtered in through the mouth of the cave. With a soft sigh, she leaned up against the wall and basked in the sunlight.
"Oh, what Hell is this?"
Breeze spun around when the groggy voice met her ears. Boromir weakly had his head up and was watching her. An unusual blush crept up her neck and made her face heat up. His grey eyes were still riddled with sleep and she smiled weakly, unsure about how to respond. Slowly, she approached his bedside and sat back down on the stool.
"I see you managed to come back to the living world..." she teased and he weakly chuckled. His lips turned down in a frown for a moment as he shifted on the cot. He groaned and slowly sat up, much to her dismay.
"You still need to take things slow. I don't want you reopening your wounds. It may be best if I dress your wounds before you lie back down again..." She grumbled and moved to get her supplies. She skillfully removed her dagger from its sheath and set to work. Once the dressing was removed, she applied medicine to his wounds, causing him to hiss in pain.
"Where are the others?" He asked quietly as his head swivled around lazily. "They went after the hobbits. They're tracking the band of Uruk-Hai at this very moment." Boromir watched as her eyes suddenly strayed to the curtain of vines, a distant look in them. He could almost see her thoughts flashing through her eyes.
The land rolling under her horse's hooves, the scenery flashing by as they raced passed. She could see the glint of happiness in her hazel eyes as she caught up to them. And undoubtedly, she embraced Aragorn with a strong hug and he returned it with his own. And maybe, just maybe, their lips would meet again, neither of them caring about their two other friends' company.
But she suddenly snapped out of the daze and went back to work.
"Ouch, blasted creatures and their sharp arrows..." He crumbled to himself as he watched her unwrap a bundle of bandages. His remark caused her to laugh and his eyes lit up.
"Aren't all arrows sharp?"
"Well, I should think so or else that just kind of defeats the purpose..." He teased causing her to laugh once more. She applied more cream to his shoulder wound and it started to smoke. He cringed again and wrinkled his nose.
"What is that horrible medicine? It burns like mad!" He grumbled once more. "Aragorn didn't tell me the name. He just said that it's healing properties are almost unbelievable. Some say it's magic..." She explained as she applied some King's foil to the deeper wounds. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, savoring the feeling of her fingers on his skin. They were careful, warm, skilled. And very distracting.
Before he knew it, she had already bandaged him back up and was growling at him to pay attention. His eyes shot open and he snickered.
In his thoughts, he compared her to his old healer lady that had taken care of him as a child up until the more recent years when she died. They were both extremely bossy and good healers, but Quwen was different. Well, one could say Quwen was a lot prettier and... younger compared to his maid.
He was brought from his thoughts as she waved a bowl of warm broth under his nose. He looked up at her expectantly and she offered him it. "You don't have any cooked meat?" He partly begged and she shook her head.
"You're body can't handle solid food yet, maybe tomorrow..." He crumbled under his breath and she left the bowl in his hands to sit by the small fire.
"Where exactly are we?" he asked her as he looked about the cold cave they were in.
"We're in a Ranger Way Post a short distance from where you were attacked..." Her hazel eyes never left the fire as she poked it with a stick.
Boromir's mouth watered when he saw her take a bite of some sort of cooked meat that had been roasting over the flame. "Breeze, can I have... some of that?" He weakly lifted his right arm to point at the tender meat. She looked at him for a moment before handing him a small corner of the meat.
"Fine, but stop drooling. You're going to have to sleep in that bed and I don't want you have to sleep in your own puddle of liquid..." she growled and he devoured the small bit of solid food in his hands.