Long Walk Home

Chapter Five

By the time the first gray light of dawn appeared through the trees, they were already several miles away from the cabin, slipping out under cover of darkness, but guided by the silvery light of a full moon that filtered through the trees. As the day wore on, the gray light became gold and then gold became mottled by the thick canopy of branches and leaves overhead. Only the soft rush of the river to the east of them assured her they'd not wandered too deeply into the woods.

Eleri rubbed her eyes, forcing them to focus on Boromir ahead of her. She wasn't entirely certain he was in the shape to travel the distance they needed to go, but since he insisted otherwise and would not listen to her arguments, there they were, on a path that could only just barely be called such, and she jumped at just about every sound for the first hour. But now? Unless an orc fell from the trees, she was ignoring any and all sounds.

"How do you fare?" His voice came low through the dusk.

"I am still behind you, if that's what you mean."

"That is, indeed, what I mean." He stopped and turned to face her. "Do you need to stop?"

"How long did you say it should take us?"

"To reach Minas Tirith?" He waited for her to nod. "About ten days or so, depending on any other trouble we might happen to find."

"Ten days." She bit back a sigh. They'd only been walking a few hours and she was ready to simply be there. This was the farthest she'd ever been from home, from where her village once stood, and as she stared off through the trees, and her mind teased her here and there by making her think she saw creatures that were not really there, a hint of icy fear formed a ball in the pit of her stomach.

"Are you all right?" He walked back to her. "You look as if you might be sick."

"It's..." She didn't know how to tell him without looking utterly foolish and more than a little childish. He'd trekked all over the map, and she was only a few miles from home and ready to cry quarter.

Home. Was it truly home any longer? The orcs closing in made her home feel far less safe, far less like home, but at the same time, she'd lived there so long, it was difficult to reconcile the fact that she would most likely never return to the tiny cabin in the woods. Closing the door for the last time felt like she'd closed the door on a chapter of her life, one she would most likely never revisit. And the pang of homesickness that followed was powerful and unexpected.

Her eyes stung and she swallowed hard as her throat tightened in response. Her gaze fell to the narrow pathway, littered with leaves and sticks and acorns, pebbles and tree roots. The dirt was firmly packed, but a rich dark brown, unharmed by years of foot traffic pounding the soil to dust.

"Eleri?"

"I just—" She looked up and met his gaze, then shook her head. "It's silly, is what it is. I'm fine and we should probably keep moving."

"Are you certain?"

She nodded. "I am, yes. We should probably try to get up higher, to keep an eye on our surroundings, as it will be dark soon."

For a moment, he looked as if he was going to say something else, but then he nodded. "You're probably right. We have perhaps an hour or two more of daylight."

Eleri fought off a shiver at the idea of night approaching. It would be the first time in a long time that she'd sleep not in the security of a house, in the warmth of her bed, but instead somewhere on a rock, most likely uncomfortable and starting at every sound while she shivered until dawn.

For the next nine nights.

Possibly more.

Not exactly an appealing prospect.