Journey to the North (Sequel to Rangers of the North)

Chapter Thirteen: Blackberries

Averael woke from a light sleep at the sound of Ella's cry. She rolled over, ready to get up and tend to the baby, but Aragorn laid a hand on her arm. She relaxed and felt him get out of bed. Ella had been fussy all night because she was teething. She had been keeping Aragorn and Averael up in the past week or so, but tonight Averael was having trouble sleeping for other reasons.

"I'm going to take her for a walk." Aragorn said, wrapping the baby in a warm blanket and slipping on some soft leather shoes. Torchlight from outside bled into the room as the door opened and closed, and then it was quiet. 

Averael breathed quietly, letting her eyes adjust to the dimness. They had moved from the tent to a small building, one of the first that had been restored. The city was coming along quickly, and every day Aragorn improved and enforced better civil, military, and government officials. They were nowhere near completion, but it was improvement. 

There had been no new threats since the attack upon their arrival to Annuminas some months before. In a way it was comforting, but it only gave Averael more anxiety. They had no way of knowing if- or when- they would next be attacked. 

Unless...

Averael glanced over to the wooden chest that held the palantir. No. She had had the thought before, but Aragorn insisted it was too dangerous. Using the palantir would only alert the enemy that they had it. They just had to wait for Eomer to receive their letter and do... something. It was hard to focus on restoring Annuminas when Gondor was in such peril. Averael worried for Eowyn and Faramir every day. 

The thought of a surprise attack loomed over her head. Yes, they had guards, and the beginnings of a military, but it was nowhere near enough to repel the forces of Angmar. If there was a way to predict the next attack, why not use it?

Averael swung her legs over the side of the bed and sat up, wrapping a blanket around herself. She stepped over to the chest, knelt, and opened it. A wrapping of cloth sat inside, among a few other books and things. Her heart beat nervously as she took the cloth in her hands, feeling the orb beneath it. It was heavier than she thought it would be. She unwrapped the stone, holding it in one hand with the cloth, and revealing its upper half. It was dark, darker than the night around her, and yet she thought she could see something in it. A few hesitant moments later, she took a deep breath and reached out with her free hand, lightly touching the stone with her fingertips. 

Immediately she was transported outside, as if in a dream. It felt too real. 

Her blood ran cold as a Nazgul's scream echoed in the night. She was barefoot, running in the woods, and she suddenly remembered where she was running to. She had been with Eros, playing in the woods, when the first screech sounded. She bolted home, her feet carrying her faster than she had ever run before, hearing her name being called in the distance. As she approached her home her father scooped her up, taking her deeper into the trees, away from the home they lived in. 

"Where's mama?" She asked her father, but he said nothing. His face was stern, determined to get her away from whatever had made that ungodly noise. She looked closer at her father's face and saw strength, fear, and... sadness. She had never seen her father cry, but there were dried tearstreaks on his face. 

Then, Averael was in another time. Hours after her father had hidden her in a cave near their home, and left her there. It was quiet now, and dawn approached fast, but no birds sang. She rose slowly, treading carefully, and quietly made her way home. 

The door was open when she arrived. It was dark inside, except for where the morning sun shone through the windows. She held her breath and tiptoed further inside. A soft noise startled her, and she froze, before realizing what it was. She followed the gasping sound to her parent's bedroom. 

What she saw would always haunt her. Her mother and father lay on the ground, defeated. Not dead. Not alive. They were both pale, shaking forms, their breathing labored, their once brown eyes now a pale white. A shattered evil blade lay beside her mother, the black shards evaporating into dust as she watched. 

Her mother's head lolled towards her, and they locked eyes. Then she ran. She ran until she couldn't run any more, and ran again until she found Eros and his parents sifting though their ashen building. She never looked back.

Again, Averael was in another time. She was grown now, standing in a field of blackberry bushes. The warm sunlight wrapped around her and the birds sang. She looked up, and saw a figure in the distance, a basket on their arm, fingers stained purple from picking the ripe berries. She stepped closer to the figure, and recognized her mother's soft humming. Averael opened her mouth to call out to her, but no sound came. 

Suddenly she was ripped back into the present. It was dark, and her legs were cold and sore from kneeling on the hard ground. Her hands were empty and shaking, and tears streamed down her face. Aragorn wrapped the palantir hastily and stuffed it into the chest, then enveloped her in his arms, saying nothing, holding her close. 

Too real. 

***

Eowyn stood as the door to the cell opened, and Faramir entered. Again, he had attempted to negotiate with Baldor. He had come back with less bruises this time, at least. Faramir sat with her and waited until the guards left, leaving them in silence. Then, he drew his hand from his waistband. Eowyn looked down at what he held. 

A file.

"How--" her voice was almost too quiet to be heard. It was a stout piece of metal, used to file down edges of newly smithed steel. 

It was a chance. 

Faramir was thinking the same thing as she was, she knew it. He stood and went to the small grate that was their only connection to the outside world. She couldn't tell if it was early morning or late evening, but it was light enough to see Faramir raise the file to the bars that trapped them. They both held their breaths as he aligned the file with the nearest bar. The sound wasn't too loud, and metal shavings fell from the bar where it met the file. 

Faramir looked back at his wife and smiled for the first time in months.