Nepenthe [Legolas]

12

PART TWO

Three days and three nights without rest or sleep they traveled, tracking the pack of Orcs that had taken Merry and Pippin. They kept a rigorous pace that had Gimli complaining and Viridis too busy to let his mind wander.

This, he suspected was a good thing. He feared that if he went too long, gave himself a moment's rest or closed his eyes, it would be to the memory of Boromir.

His funeral was a somber one. Aragorn had taken it upon himself to cast away the body, carefully placing Boromir in the body of one of the canoes, folding his hands across his chest, and gently shutting his eyes.

They cast him off into the waters, heads bowed as they watched the waterfall take him; watched as the end of the boat tipped over the edge, cradled and at the mercy of nature and the soft waters that would guide him to a better place. Free from torment. Free from duty. Free from the merciless treachery of the One Ring.

They hadn't spoken about him since. No one had the heart to.

This, Viridis knew, was for the better.

For if Boromir's last prayers were for them to protect Merry and Pippin then that was what they'd do till hellfire come.

Aragorn paused after they'd been running for many hours past daybreak, kneeling against the ground as his fingers traced something in the dirt. Viridis paused, brows drawn as he studied the object that Aragorn lifted. It was the Hobbit's pin that they used to fasten their cloaks around their necks. "Not idly do The Leaves of Lorien Fall," Aragorn said, eyes lifted as his hands held fast the pin in his hand.

"They may yet be alive," Legolas added, hope in his tone.

"Less than a day ahead of us," Aragorn said, closing his hand around the pin and standing. "Come." He beckoned quickly, legs giving way to a run once more.

"Come, Gimli!" Legolas called out as the Dwarf quickly fell behind. "We are gaining on them."

"I'm wasted on cross country!" Gimli complained, panting as he fought for a breath. "We Dwarves are natural sprinters. Very dangerous over short distances!"

"Then you are soon to be an athlete by the end of this, my friend," Viridis said, hoping to instill the smallest graces of energy within the Dwarf as he pressed on, long legs darting forward beneath him as he ran to catch up.

He felt the wind whip through his hair, pushing it up and off of his shoulders as he went. He felt it push against the fabric of his clothes, slice through the quivers of his arrows.

Still, he continued on without break, feet treading across open terrain, endless hills, and valleys of green that shone brilliantly beneath the hot midday sun.

For twice more hours they went, forward and forward still as the sun shifted West. Gimli's complaining grew twice in vivacity while Legolas' words of encouragement dwindled. They were closing in at an impossible rate, but all the same, the very beings they were pursuing seemed to be moving at twice the speed.

"Rohan," Aragorn said breathlessly, chest rising and falling, eyes drawing to a squint as he peered forward against the slow setting sun. "Home of the Horse Lords. There's something strange at work here. Some evil gives speed to these creatures, sets its will against us."