Eternally Bond

Hope

13. Hope

Night was falling over the lands as Aragorn gazed up at the cloudless, darkening sky. The stars twinkled as if to greet him from above and he smiled at the solace they offered him when he needed it the most.

This was the second night on their Uruk hunt and they had not covered nearly as much ground as Aragorn had hoped by now. He no longer could sense the Uruks' scent on the strong wind, even though their tracks were still easy to follow.

Aragorn glanced behind him at his companions who were huddled close by a small fire which Gimli had recently lit for their small party. The tension was heavy in the air, as always these days, for the severity of the situation was never forgotten. All four were focused on their task ahead and knew nothing could sway their minds until they reached their goal.

"We… We really ought to continue," Boromir managed meekly, but his urging words were cancelled out by the paleness of his face and the obvious discomfort he was in.

Aragorn shook his head. "No. You need to rest, Boromir. Even if just for a few hours."

"Why don't you leave me and run on ahead? I am positive you could have reached them by now if it wasn't for me."

"Nonsense, we've only lost half a day. Nothing we cannot cover tomorrow," Gimli huffed and glanced at Legolas who was tending to Boromir's wound. "It is healing fine, isn't it, Legolas?"

Legolas shook his head. "I fear the wound is threatening to open up once more. We have to do something to prevent it."

"What do you suggest?" Boromir asked as his eyes flickered nervously between the others.

"Since we have no needle and thread, I suggest burning the edges of the wound. Just as a temporary solution until we can find you proper help."

Boromir stiffened beneath the elf's touch but muttered, "Do it. Quickly."

Legolas nodded and picked up one of the thinner logs at the edge of the fire. The elf blew on the glowing tip and the light intensified for a second. Boromir gulped. Without further ado, Legolas moved the clothes away from the man's wound and pressed the glowing tip to its edges. Aragorn turned from the tormented wheezes of Boromir and watched the sky again.

Silently, he vowed to the Valar that, with their blessing, he would find Arwen soon. And when he did, he would let nothing separate them once more. He looked down at the brooch on his cape and watched the green stone shine with an ethereal light under the moon. He covered it with his hand and at the same time repeated the silent promise, this time making the vow to Arwen.

"I know I shouldn't say…" the dwarf began and pulled the ranger from his somber thoughts. "But I think it is time to voice out loud the worries we have so far refused to speak. I mean you no harm by my words, Aragorn, but truth is we do not know if the Lady Undómiel is still alive. I have considered every option as to why they took her along with the hobbits, but the only one that makes sense is if they did it for their own sick, twisted pleasure. She is strong... but they might have killed her already. And if they have not yet, there is a strong possibility that they are trying to break her spirits in every way they know how. When we find them, she might not be the same elf anymore..."

"Don't be cynical, Gimli," Aragorn said and his voice carried a strong warning tone.

"I am sorry, Aragorn," the dwarf replied and lowered his eyes to the fire once more. "I just want us to keep an open mind because we have to remember the possibilities. The hobbits will for sure be alive because of the Ring. But the lady…"

Aragorn turned his angry eyes to glare at the dwarf by the fire. When he saw Gimli's sad face, however, the ranger's rising fury deflated and was replaced by the shared grief of the evening.