Wild | Aragorn | On Hiatus

Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Their journey was very much the same as the day before. And the scenery was still beautiful, the air still quiet except for occasional bird song.

Merry and Pippin were being scolded yet again, because surprise surprise, they were attempting to sneak lembas.

Nínimiel would never have guessed that Gimli would ask what he did, and it put her on the spot.

"So, lass, you never did talk about your gift from the Lady."

It surprised her to the point that she fumbled over her words more than usual and couldn't think of anything other than the absolute truth, so she spoke very quietly.

"W-We...W-W-Well...the...th-the Lady...the L-Lady… It...It-It was a solution. I... I'll be able...should b...be-be able to...rem...ber."

"WHAT?!"

The elleth swiftly kicked the dwarf and shushed him, and he whirled round to face her, perhaps to glare but he rocked the boat and had to hold onto the sides. Aragorn looked over his shoulder and Nínimiel froze, feeling his gaze but not so much as daring to lift her eyes. But he soon turned away again, and she let out a sigh of relief.

With a voice quieter than before, she spoke.

"A-Aragorn doesn't know...yet. He w-won't un-unde-understand my tre...pidation," she watched the ranger sadly as he rowed. "I don't know wh-what will...may happen one-once I drink. C-can't be ou...out for th-the count. Not now." Nínimiel felt the tension in her shoulders lessen a little as Gimli nodded along after he'd steadied the boat and turned back round.

She could keep going. It was safe to continue. Her voice rose a little as Aragorn drifted further ahead.

"I-If...If I c...change, what th-then? What...what if I-I was di-different? And y...you don't li-like, and what...and...and w-what if I don't li... like me?"

A hand on her shoulder made her look round. Legolas. He was looking at her with a soft smile on his face and a little sorrow in his eyes.

"Do not worry, you are not changed, not really. Though now you are more vocal about what your eyes see, and seem to have no understanding of rank. But you never understood it much anyways," he chuckled, perhaps at a memory, as he took his hand from her shoulder after giving it a light squeeze. "Someone was always scolding you for not showing enough respect but you'd dig your heels in saying that they hadn't earned your respect so you wouldn't give it to them."

He smiled at her once more, before he lifted his eyes to look ahead again.

That provided some comfort. But she was still afraid that she would change, still afraid that she wouldn't be liked anymore. What if she ended up exactly how Gimli had described other elves to her very early on in their quest. He'd warmed to her moments after finding out she had never been around other elves, or anyone really, before the Council was called. This was because he assumed that meant she “wouldn't have a stick up her arse as there's been no one to put it there”.

She thought it best to stop there. Not ready to tell people that she'd begun to remember being a child, she turned to look at one of the banks of the Anduin.

It was like a haze had descended in her mind, as she saw a translucent figure running through the trees just behind the shore of the meander.

A girl.

The girl ran through the trees, laughing and squealing silently. Someone caught up to the child, and after picking her up and spinning her round, Nínimiel could hear the girl's laughter echoing in her mind. The elleth couldn't help but smile as the girl was hoisted onto the person's shoulders, but she still couldn't see who the other person was.

But soon she'd forgotten about wanting to know who that person was because the girl turned to look at her.

Nínimiel saw her eyes were a startling violet.

The irises looked almost harsh against the white and grey image of the girl.

But violet.

They were hers.

She was looking at her own eyes.

Yes. She...she felt like she remembered this, looking out across the river like she'd seen a shadow dance across its waters.

A rocking motion and splashing brought her out of her trance. Gimli was complaining...complaining at her. She'd leant towards the phantoms, and rocked the boat quite a bit in the process.

All day they were crammed into the boats until Aragorn deemed it time to stop for the night.

Their camp was a wide, and slightly distorted circle, and once bedrolls were out, Nínimiel subconsciously sat close to Aragorn as Merry and Pippin regaled them with tales of their escapades - which were almost all stealing (mostly from Farmer Maggot) but also of the Old Forest with trees that talked and maybe even moved.

The ranger stiffened slightly when she sat quite close to him, not sure what to do. Now, the elleth had no idea that perhaps others had personal space too, but she knew she didn't mind him in hers. He soon warmed to the idea and relaxed, chuckling occasionally or teasingly reprimanding them.

Most of the Fellowship spent the evening quietly exchanging stories and smiles into the night. Only Legolas and Frodo did not partake. The former kept watch, and the latter, who had seemed withdrawn lately, went to bed quite early.

Towards the end of the evening, Nínimiel had ended up with Aragorn's arm around her shoulders. It was nice. And it reminded her of the night before they entered Bree.

But when the others noticed, the pair were teased, mostly by Merry and Pippin, and only lightly by Gimli. Boromir seemed to have been withdrawing the last few days and made no comment at all.

Nínimiel went very, very red. The flush shot up her neck, stained her face and her ears. She was so red the others could see it in the dark, and for a moment they worried she'd become so flustered and so hot that her head might shoot off. The elleth felt way too hot all at once and tried to separate herself from where she'd all but curled up into Aragorn's side. But he held her there, and gallantly defended her from any teasing before telling everyone they really should sleep.

Whilst the others settled down, the elleth turned to look at the ranger, but what little light there was caught the pendant at his neck and she was distracted.

Gently poking the necklace, to show that was what she was talking about, she began.

"Who...w-was she?"

Her voice wasn't even a whisper, and for a moment she wondered if he'd heard. But he sighed, and she knew he had.

"Her name is Arwen Undomiel, daughter of Lord Elrond. She gave this to me as a parting gift, a final goodbye, for she is to sail West to the land of her kin and to be reunited with her mother. We were very close, friends for much of our time together, lovers for a short while. I will miss her, but I am glad she is to see her mother in the Undying Lands. Arwen has waited long to see her again."

Aragorn felt her nod before she settled into her bedroll for the night. And as she turned over, in the dark he thought she might have still been red.

She was.