Sword and Arrow

Chapter 23

TW H/M/PH/BIA (O, O, O) AND R/PE THR//TS (A, E, A)

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"Are you all right?" Beruthiel had woken and come out of the shelter to see Aragorn sitting on the twisted mass of roots, bent over with his head held in his palms. Two nights had passed since she had seen the strange dream (vision?), and she still hadn't talked to Aragorn about it. She didn't want to worry him; sometimes, keeping secrets was necessary.

"Yes," Aragorn choked out. "I'm fine." He didn't even look at her.

"Are you sure?" Beruthiel dropped down beside him, nudging his side with her elbow.

Aragorn sat up and put on an obviously fake smile for her. "Yes. Nothing's wrong, Ruth."

Beruthiel's brow furrowed. "I don't think so..." She leaned forward and took both of Aragorn's hands in her own. "Look at me," she commanded. He did. "Now, you're going to tell me what's wrong. Every single detail. And then you're going to tell me what I can do about it."

Aragorn sighed. "I don't know what I did to earn such a stubborn friend," he muttered.

"You were being your usual amazing self," Beruthiel told him. "Now, what. Is. Wrong? Did you have a fight with... with Boromir?"

Aragorn quickly shook his head. "No! It was... something else."

"What was it?" she demanded. "You better tell me. I'm not going to drag the answer out of you."

Aragorn bowed his head, looking away from her. "It was yesterday," he began softly. "When Boromir and I were wandering in the woods. There was... There was an elf, I think he was a guardsman or a marchwarden."

"What did he do?" There was fire in her steel-grey eyes now.

Aragorn closed his eyes. "He was rather rude to us. Called us... Rather unpleasant slurs."

Beruthiel winced. "He did what now?"

"He called Boromir a... f——t." It hurt him to say the word. "Yelled at me that I, of all people, should know better than to court a man."

Beruthiel nodded slowly, her face an icy mask. "I see. And what were you two doing?"

"Holding hands." His voice was muffled by his hands as he tore them away from Beruthiel and covered his face. "We were just holding hands."

Beruthiel's emotionless make melted a little and her wrath showed through. "Did they hurt you? Touch you in any way?"

Aragorn shook his head again. "No. He said he would beat the shit out of me, but he didn't like touching filth." His voice broke again.

A vein pulsed in Beruthiel's jaw. "Elves are supposed to be good," she snarled. "Kind. Not homophobic bastards. Did you defend yourselves?"

"We hightailed it out of there!" Aragorn shuddered. At Beruthiel's raised eyebrow, he continued, "He had six more guardsmen with him. Boromir and I were unarmed. I didn't think that the other six would stand quietly and watch if it came to a fight. I may be good with my hands and feet, Ruth, but I'm not stupid enough to provoke a fight with seven heavily armed ellyn."

Beruthiel stood up. Her mouth was a thin, pale line, and her hands were clenched in white-knuckled fists. "What is his name?" she asked in a low, hard voice.