linaewen | Lords of Gondor Chapter 23

Well, I was going to wait until I had more written on this one, but I finally decided that it was better to put up a wee short chapter than to keep on waiting for more time to make it longer. ;-)

It's been awhile since I last posted, so if you think you've missed something, or you feel the need to review, previous chapters be found at Ladyhawkhollow in the Library under Linaewen, along with some of Boromir's other adventures:

http://www.ladyhawkhollow.com/

The tale is also archived in my LJ memories, as well as at the LOTR Scrapbook:

http://lotrscrapbook.bookloaf.net/stories/serial/lords/index.html

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Chapter 23

Since the night he had heard the bone-chilling cry of patrolling Nazgûl, high up in the sky in advance of the storm, Boromir had been restless and ill at ease. That restlessness was felt and echoed by his men, for they knew him well, and his moods, and realized his anxiety was now much more than simple chafing at his weakness.

All were now on full alert, for Boromir had told them what he had heard, and they knew what it meant for them. The possibility that they had already been seen and noted by the Nazgûl had occurred to them all, and so they had taken precautions to drag the boats away from the shore, and to hide their camp among the trees, where nothing could be seen from above.

Even so, Boromir was anxious, as well as restless. He could not shake his feeling of impending doom. The thought that the Enemy was ready to launch his war against the West allowed him no rest, and the fact that he could not simply rise and stride away to the aid of his City irked him at the same time as it frightened him.

He watched his men patrolling the shore, and not for the first time, regretted drawing them away from the lines of battle in Gondor. Each one of them was a man of courage and renown amongst the fighting men of Gondor, and they would be missed if they were not present when the fight came to the Pelannor; here they waited with him, while he sat weak and useless.

I must send them back without me, he thought, but then sighed inwardly. But would they go? I am a fool to think they would leave me here, after all they have done to come to my aid! No more will they leave me behind than Aragorn did, sending Legolas to stay with me; now that my men have found me, they will not leave me.

The knowledge was comforting, in spite of his anxious thoughts.

A twig cracked behind him, and before he could turn to see who it was that approached, Linhir appeared at his side.

"No need to scowl at me, my Captain," he chuckled, as he sat down and stretched out his long legs. "I have not come to poke and prod you, nor to fuss with your dressings. I am here because this is a good spot for sitting, and I thought you might be willing to share it for a time."

Boromir inclined his head in welcome.

"If you come without your needles and your bandages, then I will be glad of your company," he replied with a slight smile.

There was silence between them for a time. At last, Boromir opened his mouth to speak, but Linhir forestalled him.

"I know what you would say to me," he replied. "I can read it in your face as if it were written there. You wish to press me to allow you to move on, to begin the journey back to Minas Tirith..."

"That is so," sighed Boromir. "But do not think me merely irritable at inactivity. I fear for what we will find if we come too late, and I feel it in my very bones that time is now short. I would leave this place and return home, to do what I can to stem the tide of war -- though I be of little use, with no strength to wield even a broken sword."

"Mayhap you are right," agreed Linhir. "Matters are moving, and I see that you think not only of yourself but of your people and their need. But what makes you believe you are well enough to manage the journey? It could yet be the death of you, if you move too soon."

"I shall manage it," Boromir said through gritted teeth. "I must!"

Linhir watched him thoughtfully for a time, then laid a fatherly hand upon Boromir's arm.

"You do remarkably well for one so wounded. Only six days have passed since that day, and already your strength returns. But you are not yet well -- to move too soon may undo all your progress thus far. Another week at least I had hoped for you -- a fortnight would be even better."

"A fortnight!" exclaimed Boromir. "I cannot spare a fortnight -- nor even a week! Already the Enemy is moving, setting his horde against the people of the West. Another week languishing here and I may return to nothing but a city in flames!"

"I know it," said Linhir heavily. "It is a hard choice -- not for you, perhaps, who are ever ready to put your own needs second to those of Gondor. But my own choice is hard; do I choose now as a soldier, who knows the need of battle and the importance of having my Captain in place for the defense of the City? Or as a healer, who knows this journey will be difficult for you, and could harm you and weaken you further -- if it does not kill you?"

Boromir shrugged, at a loss for an answer. He knew this was not the time to urge his own desire, so he waited silently, wondering what Linhir's decision would be.

Linhir turned his keen gaze upon Boromir, and his smile of encouragement made Boromir's heart leap with hopeful expectation.

"Fear not, I see beyond those two choices," said Linhir. "I know you are anxious to be gone from this place, that it sickens your heart to be forced to remain here, on the borders of the land that awaits your return. I have known you from a young age, and have seen proof time and time again that your great strength is as much in your will as it is in your body. It may well be that by moving towards your heart's desire, your body will benefit the more, and heal even faster. Sometimes a sore heart is a detriment to healing, and I begin to think that I have done all I can for you here. Full health may return to you as we draw nigh our home -- as incongruous as that may seem!"

"I believe it!" sighed Boromir. "Almost I can feel the pain increasing as my heart grows heavier. I realize it will be difficult, but I can bear it! I have borne pain before, and I shall do so again."

"But not pain like this," Linhir cautioned. "You have never been so sorely wounded, and for that reason I must continue to be very strict with you. Though I have agreed that we may begin the journey, and I feel you may well benefit from the moving, do not take this to mean that you are free to direct as you please. I will still be the one who decides how long we travel, and where and when we halt. Traversing the North Stair will be very difficult, and it may well be you will regret your choice not to remain quiet here, before ever we reach the bottom."

"I can manage," insisted Boromir once more.

"Perhaps, but you will not be allowed to do so. You will be carried down the Stair, or you will not go."

"Carried!!" Boromir exclaimed angrily.

"Yes, carried; it will be too much for you otherwise," replied Linhir calmly. "I tell you now, you will not have the strength to walk it, be your will of iron and your pride unbreakable. Even pride and hardened will shall desert you in the end, if you test your strength too quickly and too soon. You will need that strength when we arrive at our goal, so do not think to squander it because it is beneath your pride to be helped."

"You speak wisdom, as ever," muttered Boromir ruefully. "I would be a fool to ignore it. I will submit."

.....to be continued....

Linaewen