The Second Fellowship: The Stone of Might

Chapter 18: Moving On

Chapter 18: Moving On

Caranel POV

I was more than ready to move on from this place where nothing but bad luck had befallen us. Not only had I nearly died, come so close that the stars had gone out, but a dragon had found us and almost destroyed everything. It was only thanks to the courage of our fellowship, and the bonds of friendship that held us all tight that we had survived.

But we had bigger problems to do with the dragon. The enemy would now know that Naegung was dead, and it would become certain which way we were headed. I am certain we shall encounter worse things than one dragon, I thought with trepidation as we started out our next trek.

When Oreth had pointed out the brightness of the Shard, my initial thought had been relief, we were so near our goal, perhaps soon all would be well! But then I remembered that we had more to do. Once the stone had been recovered, we were to take it to a safe haven, probably back to Lothlorien. And after that... there were many more problems that required solving.

I voiced that opinion to the others, and as soon as I'd said it, Boron sighed heavily, wiping a hand across his brow. "I have been thinking the same thing, Caranel. Of course, it is hopeful we shall get the Stone to Lorien with no battle or danger. But even then, where do we turn? Middle Earth is still in chaos, the Enemy in his dark tower has the ring and his minions, including Saruman the White Wizard move across the world. Not to mention the initial fellowship are still held in Isengard, almost certainly subject to various cruel and painful tortures."

Boron continued to talk, but I did not hear.

Perhaps it is for the best that Boromir has not lived to see these foul times. Perhaps it is best that he was killed in battle, not in the dungeons of Orthanc.

No Caranel! Do not think that way! You would have rescued him...he would have lived. He could have lived.

A tear dripped down my face, and then another. And then another, another, another. He could have lived!

Soon I was silently sobbing, salty streams issuing from my brown eyes. I felt a tap on my shoulder and looked up. Thannor. Usually quiet, the tall, strong elf was looking at me, confused, with compassion in his eyes.

"What ails you, Caranel?"

I let loose another wracking sob, and looked down at the ground beneath our trudging feet. "I was thinking of Boromir....and of how things could have been..."

He tilted his head, smiling slightly, sadly. "I understand. You mourn for him, and for what you have lost."

"Yes," I said, "Yes, it is exactly that."

"You may never find love again, Caranel, and you may never even deign to seek it again. But you must not let the shadow of Boromir's death hang over you in this manner. It is not fitting, and shall make you tired and unwell. You do not deserve this lingering pain, so let it go. Grieve for him, yes, but let it go."

I stared at his blue eyes, unspeaking.

He laughed slightly. "I know you think that was cruel of me to say, but believe me, you must. I do feel for you, truly. I have a mate, my true love, back in Rivendell, and I would be devastated if I lost her. But you must keep on living, you especially, one of mortal men, whose time here is so short."

"Tell me more about your love," I said, determined to take up Thannor's suggestion and let the grief the hounded me fly away.

He smiled, this time fully, the light catching in his azure eyes. "She is as beautiful as the light before the sun and moon. Gilernil, she is called, and I love her before any other. Her eyes as bright as starlight, her skin as smooth as ice, and her hair like scattered silk. It is for her that I came, truly. If Sauron triumphs, if he gains The Stone of Might as well as the Ring of Power, then what will the world come too? I will die in warfare, and the Last Homely House will be Homely no longer. Rape, torture, burning, that is all war will bring to my wife. And my unborn children....what would my little loved ones do in that world? A world of fire and ice, of undying agony and furious rage? If the Enemy wins over us, where will hope be found?"

"At the moment," I replied, shocked and saddened by his passionate tirade, "As Tirnel is so fond of reminding us, hope is found in us. And not just us as a fellowship, but us as a whole. Our people, those most likely to be supressed. Perhaps we may bring hope, for your Gilernil, and for my Boromir."

"Yes," he said, catching my hand and smiling. "Perhaps we will."

When we made camp later that day to eat a swift meal, my mood was much improved. I had found a friend in Thannor, most certainly, and we were both kindred spirits, in a way. Both of us were fighting for someone we loved, him for the living, and me for the dead.

Our luncheon was good, Boron consented to start a fire, and Alric impressed us by creating the most delicious meal he'd cooked so far. Boron caught a couple of rabbits and skinned them quickly. Bria and Faineth went to find some herbs or vegetables, and came back with some edible roots as well as a sprig of parsley. Our simple stew quickly became a culinary delight, and though we were quiet so not to attract any unwanted attention, I feel as if our spirits were much lifted.

I talked with both Thannor and Boron, and the discussion quickly turned to where we thought the Stone might be. Boron (being of the Dunedain and knowing most of those parts of the world) told us where we may soon be.

"About four days swift walk from here lie the Dead Marshes of Dagorlad, or Battle Plain. There lie many fallen warriors from many different battles. Too many have died there, and some say strange things go on in those swamplands. The dead have been preserved in the bog, and light little candles which lead men astray. Many a ranger have I lost to those vile lands. We avoid it as much as we can, and I do not know a safe way across. I would prefer to skip around those parts, but it appears, unless we find the Stone within the next few days, that we will have to."

I shuddered. These 'Dead Marshes' sounded harsh and dreadful. "And what then? After that, where do we come to?"

"I would rather have to wade through the murky mire of Dagorlad than go farther. For after the marshes, comes the Black Gate of Mordor."

I recoiled at the name, and shuddered. There I would never want to go.

"Morannon, it is called, entrance to the Black Lands. A hideous and formidable place, and if we must go in there... then the Stone must already be lost. So we must hope that we find it in the next few days, so we do not have to cross either through the Dead Marshes, or into Mordor."

A/N: A little bit of a filler chapter, I know, but I thought you may like to see a little of Thannor's life as he's kind of a secondary character. He's a bit unpredictable, usually calm and quietly strong, but when he has strong opinions, will clearly voice them. (That can also be seen in the first chapter, when he signs up for the quest before anyone else)

As usual, gi melin, and enjoy!