Far Horizons ❦ Boromir

twєntч-fívє: thє ríng gσєѕ ѕσuth

THE entrance to Rivendell was but a passing shadow over the horizon. When the Ringbearer had asked what direction Mordor was, the grey wizard replied 'left,' and so the Fellowship turned south. Gandalf led the way with Frodo trailing close behind him, the rest were scattered in an unorderly fashion though Merry and Pippin chose to totter alongside Aeardis and Boromir.

Sometime after midday, they stopped at a stream that flowed out of the Misty Mountains to fill waterskins and take a short rest from the already long hours of walking. Boulders were scattered over the land, some next to the stream and others further away marking where past floods had once raged. Aeardis sat on one of the large rocks that had been weathered smooth and watched as Samwise tended to Bill the Pony with gentle affection. She had spoken with Sam prior in the day, asked about the pony and learned that once he had been mistreated by the men in Bree and thus this long quest was the best thing that had happened to him.

Boromir approached her, a stoic expression had come over him since their departure and with no preamble, he spoke, "You'll travel with us until we reach the borders of Gondor, from there you must return to Minas Tirith and tell my father to prepare for battle." She opened her mouth to protest but he knelt, took her hands into his own and alas had some resemblance of a sincere emotion playing on his countenance. "I do not want to put you in any more danger than is necessary."

Aeardis freed one of her hands and placed it upon his cheek, brows furrowed in hard determination, "And I do not wish to be parted with you." Boromir sighed, reluctant to accept her stubbornness and disregard for her own well-being. He pulled her hands away from his face and held them both near his heart. "Aeardis," he breathed her name in a low voice that spoke of his worry, his fear, his love, his longing. It was enough to break her heart.

"So be it," she whispered, eyes downcast as relief washed over the Steward-Prince. She would be of more use commanding from within the White City than she could ever be in true battle.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

"Gandalf," Aeardis said as she came up next to the Grey Wanderer's side. He glanced down at her from under bushy brows with soft blue-grey eyes that reminded her of her own father's. They spoke of hardships and unspeakable darkness, but despite that, the wizard held high spirits and was always quick to laugh. "My dear," he started with a twinkle in his eyes, "the last time I saw you, you were but a young thing trailing around after your father."

She couldn't remember exactly how old she had been when he had rushed through the streets of Minas Tirith on official wizard business as her father so fondly called it. "You have blossomed here," he commented, and she knew that he spoke of Middle Earth as opposed to the sheltered life that would have awaited her on Tol Eressëa. His slight amusement then faded and for a quick second, he glanced back toward Boromir and the rest of the Company. "I have heard troublesome tales of the state of Gondor's ruling Steward. Tales of madness."

A deep shadow crossed over Aeardis's face at the mention of the Steward. It was no secret between her and the two brothers that she and their father were not on the best of terms. "They have truth in them," she sighed, "ever since Finduilas passed, Denethor has sunk into despair." It was despair and grief that planted the seeds of madness and crippled his rule. "I did not understand when I was younger," Aeardis began, "so my father explained it to me like this: that there are times when the mind or heart is dealt such a blow it hides itself in insanity. There are times when reality is nothing but pain, and to escape that pain the mind must leave reality behind. That is what he has done, Gandalf, he lives in a dark world where this is no hope."

The wizard paused, allowing time for the others to catch up, and placed his hand on Aeardis's shoulder, "You have done more than you know for the realm of Gondor, nemir." With that single endearment alone tears sprung up in her eyes. No one had called her that since Ohtar's passing.