The Elven Gates [CONTINUING!!]

Chapter Twenty Three

Frodo was eyeing me suspiciously as I crushed up the herbs into the now heated water. I had helped Merry regain his health, for now at least, and decided to make tea for everyone. Sure, it wasn't exactly the best idea, nor did it make me seem like the most dangerous or warrior-like elf.

"Rhoevien, may I ask you something?" Frodo said loudly, mustering confidence and pulling himself to his feet.

"Shoot," I replied. I shrugged and continued crushing the herbs into the water.

Poor word choice, I am aware.

Suddenly I heard screeches from the main part of the camp, where Boromir, Gimli, Legolas, and Losseiriel were sitting. I whipped around to find Legolas ready to fire his bow at something in the woods, and fought the urge to roll my eyes.

"You don't have to take everything so seriously, Legolas," I joked. I heard Losseiriel stifle a chuckle, and Boromir fail to do so.

"I mustn't assume a battle order is a common phrase, though, then I may miss it in times of need." I shook my head, he was confusing. Legolas turned his head around quickly in mock anger, but that caused him to lose grip on his bowstring and fire the arrow. A grunt sounded from the treeline where Legolas had been aiming, and Aragorn emerged from the brush, arrow in hand.

"Try not to shoot at me, mellon nin [my friend]," the ranger said smugly and raised a joking eyebrow.

"Aragorn!" I leapt away from the tea and engulfed him in a bone-crushing hug. Pulling back quickly, I held him out at arm's length, "You fell."

"Yes, but the wizard has his ways, Rhoevien, he brought me back and I came to find the ringbearer." He nodded to Frodo, who bowed his head. "Now get off of me, she elf." He pushed me away and brushed off his shoulders. I shrugged, I guess he hadn't changed much, I thought.

"Nae saian luume' [It has been too long], Aragorn," Legolas said and brought his hand to his heart in a greeting, "My apologies for firing."

Aragorn settled down on the log and made small talk with the rest of the Fellowship. Why had no one asked what had become of Gandalf? I was afraid to bring it up, for the hobbits' sake.

"Tea is ready!" I said enthusiastically and poured it into the five cups Sam had brought from Rivendell. Oh, Rivendell, I missed it so much. I recalled the events of the time I had spent there, and began to wonder what had become of Boromir's pink horse...

"May we be of assistance?" I was brought back to reality by Merry's voice.

"Milady," Pippin added, smiling at me and then scowling at his friend.

"Ah, sure," I handed them each two cups, "Pass these around, there's not enough cups for everyone, so we'll have to reuse some when someone is finished." The two hobbits took the tea and skipped over to where the Fellowship was sitting. Pip, however, was skipping a little too enthusiastically, and spilled hot tea all over his hands.
--
The next few days were most uneventful. We took the boats out and rowed for a bit, and then paused to make camp on the shore in the afternoon. I did notice, however, that there was a slight pattern of when Losseiriel, or Tierra, was acting like her Earthean-Realm-self (which was very rare at the least). Her eyes would go back to their chocolate-ish hue when her old personality was resurfacing, but usually it was suppressed within a matter of minutes.

My leg still hurt. A lot. Maneuvering the boats wasn't a problem, but when it came time to collect firewood or set up camp, walking became more and more painful. Even though Merry, Pippin, and Boromir had all agreed that my shoulder wound looked much worse, it didn't hurt as much.

My father, back in the Earthean Realms, had told me that if an injury is really bad, your body can numb it. I remember that one time we went camping, and we set up our tent right by a beautiful creek lined with shale. My two older brothers, who were twins, Steven and Michael, were busy fashioning fishing poles out of sticks and vines. Michael realized, after about half an hour, that the vines he had been using were in fact poison ivy vines. He shouted for Steven and I, and we rushed across the creek to get him. Steven slipped on the wet shale and broke his leg, it was gross.

It was a really cool trip, but as you've probably guessed, it didn't exactly last very long.

My father died shortly afterwards, where and how, I do not know. My mom refused to tell me anything, and she would get all choked up whenever I mentioned him or his things or stuff we had done with him. I guessed that, with most people, if someone died, you had to wait until the initial shock was over. You had to let it settle in your heart, like a rock at the bottom of a murky pond. But then you all talked about it, you had group therapy with each other or something, until you made yourself stop waiting at the door for him to come home from work. I understood that she wouldn't want to talk about it, my brothers didn't want to either, but she didn't exactly mourn or anything.

So, there you have it, my father's cliche death story. I won't say I was the only one affected by the loss, but I felt it more often. Like when I was logging onto World of Warcraft and saw all of his old characters, sitting there with daily quests undone, with Guild members asking when they could raid with him, they were waiting for him to come back, just like me.

"We make camp here for the night," Aragorn was back in his position as bossypants, "Shore the boats, bring any supplies onto the bank. Orcs patrol the eastern shore, we must move on-"

"It's only afternoon," said Pippin, "I haven't even had lunch yet, and now we're going to throw a dance party with orcs!" Aragorn let out a sigh in frustration.

"A dance party with weapons?" Merry asked Pippin, who nodded and shrugged.

"-Under the cover of darkness," Aragorn, who was obviously annoyed, finished.

"Under the cover of darkness? That's the maddest idea in all the Shire!" Merry waved his hands around.

"We're not in the Shire, Merry, and it seems that these people have worse impromptu ideas than you when Farmer Maggot gets up earlier than usual and finds you in his crop." Pippin crossed his arms across his chest defiantly.

"Shhhh," Merry replied in a hushed voice, "We don't talk about that."

"The halfling is right," Gimli said between whiffs of his pipe, which he had somehow managed to get out already, "We should continue now."

"That is our plan, so rest while you still can, master dwarf."
Gimli huffed and settled into a tree.

"If I may ask, mister Aragorn, where are we going to anyway?" Sam asked, and Frodo mouthed 'MORDOR' to him, "Just tonight, I mean."

"Ah....." Aragorn's expression was troubled, "I know where it is, but I don't know the name..."

"We cannot linger," Legolas said unexpectedly, staring blankly at the trees.

"That's not the name, but thank you Legola-"

"We cannot linger."
Everyone was silent afterwards, and it was very awkward. I went off into the woods to see if there was anything I could put in my leg or shoulder.

When I returned, Boromir's shield was resting on the log, and a certain halfling was missing.

"So it begins."