Life in Death

11. Sarn Gebir

I am sorry for the long wait and want to thank everyone for sticking around for so long. I could find excuses, but truth is, that's just life getting in the way. And also the subject of Boromir's death gave me great trouble. I must have written and rewritten this chapter a dozen times, but I think it turned out good enough. Again, thank you all so much, I hope you enjoy the continuation of our journey :)

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I had been up long before dawn, Boromir's outburst the evening prior still eating away at me. It simply wasn't like him to belittle the hobbits. Sure, he had problems warming up to Aragorn from the get go, but I assumed that was thanks to the simple fact that if he so wished, Aragorn could claim his birthright to the throne of Gondor and render Boromir's father powerless and thus him and his brother reduced to common soldiers. Captain still, a born nobleman still, but no longer the substitute ruler's son. Unable to go back to sleep, I had quickly gathered my few belongings, mindful not to wake those still asleep. It still unsettled me greatly that Legolas's eyes would stay open and just glaze over the whole time, while he fell into a trancelike state. The first time I panicked, for I thought him to be dead, which had caused Aragorn to burst into laughter before finally explaining it to me.
I still hadn't spoken to the Gondorian. It wasn't like he didn't try to talk to me, try he did, but like a coward I avoided him all morning. Of course Legolas had picked up on my frantic movements while getting the boats ready to resume our journey, but unlike Gimli, he didn't give his concern a voice. I had deflected the dwarf's questions by simply stating that sleep had evaded me. With a grunt he accepted my explanation.
Though I didn't fully understand it, Aragorn had us change our routine slightly, we would be making shorter rest during the day, covering more of the river by night. One can only wonder what his reason might be. Surely the Orcs are on our trail and shy away from the sun... So why is he so adamant about going by night? Wrecking my brain hard as I might, I simply found no answer to my questions and decided to just trust in the ranger. We continued like this for the second day, the weather had turned gray and slightly colder, so traveling by night seemed even more random to me. Then again, who was I to question the decisions of those far more experienced in this? Still, the sick feeling in my stomach didn't evade and Legolas also voiced concern about the enemy drwáwing nearer when I spoke to him about my feeling.

Night had fallen early, the moon already visible in the darkening but finally clear sky. Although we seemed to have made great progress, my stomach was in knots even more than before. We had mostly kept to our formation with Aragorn, Frodo and Sam in the lead, but on occasion we would fall behind a little or pick up the pace. Currently we were bringing up the rear behind Boromir and the other two hobbits.
"Legolas, something doesn't feel right..." The elf never got a chance to answer when suddenly the boat seemed to be picking up speed on its own accord and the stream's murmuring grew louder by the heartbeat.
"... This is madness! We cannot dare the rapids by night! But no boat can live in Sarn Gebir, be it night or day!" Boromir's voice carried loudly above the water and up front came Aragorn's quick command to double back.
"What is going on, Legolas?"
"We are too far south already! Up ahead are the rapids of Sarn Gebir. We need to get out of the current or we might shatter on the shoals!" While listening to the elf, I tried as hard as I could to dig my paddle into the mass of water to somehow bring us to a stop, my companions doing the same while we were already being pushed towards the eastern shoreline. Finally, slowly at first but then, we managed to bring the boat about and stir it against the rapid current. A short laugh of relief wrought free from my throat only to be quenched when a black arrow embedded where my hand had been not a second ago. Dumbfounded, I stared at the projectile, dread clenching my heart with an iron grip again.
"Yrch!" Legolas exclaimed while Gimli spat "Orcs!" Doubling our efforts we paddled on against the river's strong current, slowly but surely escaping the deadly grip of the rapids and the enemy's arrows. It seemed like forever until we stirred back towards the stream's center and further up towards the western shore. My arms felt heavy like lead, as if I had trained with the heavy wooden practice swords for hours on end. Distant but clearly I could still make out the screeching voices of the Orcs and their foul language. A few feet further, Legolas jumped up onto a boulder, his bow gifted by lady Galadriel drawn. I couldn't hear what he was saying, too loud was the blood in my own ears. But I felt it, when I saw the worry in his face as he gazed at the sky. Nearly invisible at first, there seemed to be a dark cloud shifting in front of the bright stars. But as it drew closer, my heart ached with terror. A dark and winged creature flew in our direction, spurred on by the Orcs. Despair grew in my chest, the closer the beast came, the urge to hide grew stronger. Instinctively I recoiled from the shoreline until I bumped into a solid body, unable to take my eyes off the creature. It was a massive black beast, with a long snakelike neck, teeth like daggers, two large wings like a bat and a slender body with a long tail. It almost looked like some form of wyvern if I remembered some depictions correctly.
Even if I wanted to do something, I wouldn't have been able to. My whole body was telling me to turn and run from the winged creature, the same time I just froze. I felt like something was slicing my brain open with a burning knife, trying to find something and while unsuccessful, my whole body screamed in cold agony. Dark frost seemed to take hold of my body, my arm throbbing with might. With a dull thud, Legolas released his arrow, plucking the beast from the air. With a high pitched screech that almost had my ears bleeding, it fell into the forest somewhere on the eastern shoreline. The Orcs screamed in defeat and horror as it came tumbling down and then, silence.

The pain and terror stopped and all at once I fell limply into the arms that were already around me. I felt drained, as if something had sucked the very life from my muscles. After a few seconds I tried to push away from whoever was holding me, but failed miserably as my legs buckled as soon as I put any weight on them.
"Easy, girl. You get any paler and one might mistake you for dead." With a sigh, I closed my eyes and let myself slump back against the Gondorian.
"Just for the record, I am still mad with you," I whispered and felt Boromir's form shake against my back with his dry chuckle.
"I would have been surprised if you'd just let it slip. Though you have been avoiding me like the plague these past days."
"Boromir! Get her into the boat, we cannot linger here." With great effort, I pried my eyes open and watched Aragorn usher everyone back into the boats. As if he felt my eyes on him, he stopped and came over. Carefully he took my face in his hands and looked me over.
"Give her something to drink and then we leave. We will make camp once we find a better place than this. I am sorry, Kayleigh. We shouldn't stay here any longer than necessary." Instead of an answer I gave the ranger a short nod and let Boromir help me into one of the boats. With a grateful smile I accepted his waterskin, giving it back after a few gulps. I still felt weak, but slowly life seemed to return to my limbs.
I wasn't of much use when Aragorn had us take back upstream until we met a small bay with trees huddled so they would grant us cover for the night. My muscles felt sore when I pressed my shoulder into the boat as to help Boromir get it out of the water. Soon discussion about what that dark beast had been occupying our company while preparing the camp.
"It was not a Balrog," Frodo contradicted Gimli, who had just stated that the foul beast reminded him greatly of the shadows cast by Moria's undoing. When Boromir asked the Hobbit what he thought it had been, he refused an answer.
"Something different. Evil just as much, but it felt different. The Balrog was hot and burning anger, this beast felt cold as death. Just like that wicked wraith on the Weathertop all those months ago," I interjected, my voice barely above a whisper. The memory alone sending a chill down my spine and a faint throbbing into my arm. Looking at Frodo's fearfully wide eyes, I felt my words confirmed. He had felt it too. I slung my arm around his shoulder and pulled him into my side, gently rubbing his arm in reassurance.
"No worries, Frodo. The beast is slain and we might not encounter another. With so much evil drawn into one creature, there cannot be more than one like it."
"You felt it, didn't you Kayleigh? It felt like it knew I was there..." I slowly nodded, trying hard to remember what that creature had been and if there were more on our way ahead, but I just couldn't pierce the black cloaking my memories.

'Time is a funny thing, child. At times it abandons all logic and stretches on endlessly and then again, you blink and a decade has sped by.' I had to endure my own death and wake in a world I thought to be fiction, to finally understand what my grandmother had told me time and time again. Time was indeed a fickle thing.
While the others mused about the passing of time while we had been harbored in Lorién, I desperately tried to stay awake, time stretching forever long it seemed. The previous night had been taxing already, but since the ambush we were all on high alert until light finally broke. Luckily we heard no more of our pursuers that night and the impending day promised milder weather already, albeit the clouds wafting in from the far south. With daylight slowly clearing the last remnants of the night, we were back on the river, Sam complaining about the dense fog that was rising from the foaming rapids a few leagues ahead. With last night having cleared from my weary bones, I was back in the boat with Legolas and Gimli, both refusing my request to take over the oar for a while under the presumption that I was still a little pale in the face and should rather save my strength.
Up ahead I could hear Aragorn and Boromir arguing about our course again. Boromir, once more adamant about us rather taking to land and passing through the marches of Emyn Muil and going further south towards Gondor and thus Minas Tirith, rather then following a treacherous path through the rapids of Sarn Gebir and more likely than not risking our lives where none had crossed the rapids unharmed before. Aragorn held against it, telling him that he would not have us or the ring so close to the White City and that there was indeed an old and partially forgotten path around the rapids and the Argonath, whatever those were.
"It seems as of late, all those two are doing is butting heads about who is in the right and knows which route to follow best," I remarked low enough so only my two companions would hear.
"Like two boars in the throes of spring," Gimli muttered into his beard while Legolas kept silent in his opinion, if he even had one.
Once we found suitable shelter short of the dangerous current of the rapids, morning was still hanging heavy above the land, the mist gladly obscuring us from any foes that might still linger on the eastern shore. It was decided that Aragorn and Legolas would head out by foot, to find the trail of which Aragorn was certain would lead us safely to the lower plains behind the rapids and then the Falls of Rauros. I could see the distress in Frodo's eyes when the elf and the ranger left and didn't return for hours.