Miles To Go Before I Sleep
Chapter One: The Darkest Evening
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My
heart had been heavy when we, the Fellowship, broke out of the long dark
of Moria and into the daylight. Of course, that weight was relative, for
it had been heavy before we had even entered the Mines. I carried the load
of my loss of Arwen there, and none knew of that choice save myself--and
possibly Gandalf, as it was more than difficult to keep secrets from
*him*. But after Moria, that secret of mine was certainly safe, and I had
then added the heft of the wizard's apparent death to the burden in my
heart. I had known for certain two things as the Fellowship spilled out along the rocky hillside: that the role of leader had now fallen to me, whether I wished for it or no, and that if we did not keep on the move, we would be lost--overcome by orcs, or by our own grief. And so I had called for the assistance of Legolas, Gimli, and Boromir to help to rouse the devastated Hobbits, who were rolling on the rocks and weeping at their loss. I had thought these three companions to be the strongest at the time, for to me the Hobbits seemed--not as children, exactly, but infused with an innocence that this quest was rapidly depleting. And so, I had barked orders and hoped that the hurried movement would bolster the courage of us all. Boromir had not seen it that way, however; he berated me for my cold-heartedness on the spot. He had not known that I felt this loss of Gandalf probably more dearly than any save perhaps for Frodo; none had known the wizard better than I, and none--again, save Frodo--would have to shoulder a burden as heavy as the burden of leadership with which I was now faced. However, I did not give Boromir that, but explained that we needed to take cover, that orcs would be coming, that we would be badly outmatched. And it had been in the middle of this argument, I recall now, that I had first realized Legolas might not have been as strong as I had first suspected. Legolas had stood, then, a bit behind Boromir, staring out across the base of the mountains, looking toward the edges of the forest in the distance. His brow had been knitted, but he had not been scanning for enemies beyond, for his look had been entirely different: he had looked afraid, for the first time since I had known him. It has only occurred to me recently, as I struggle to stay atop Brego, that an Elf is so very unused to death--especially a relatively young elf who has not lived long enough to have seen the slaughter of the last Great War. Then, all I had thought of was how strangely afraid he looked, and how very unlike him that was. When his gaze had connected once again with my own, however, Legolas appeared to regain his composure; we had been friends a long while, and he must have sensed I had needed his assistance. The expression of his fear had been but fleeting, and as he moved to aid the other Hobbits, I turned my attention back to Frodo. It had taken several minutes to rouse all the Fellowship and get us once more on our way, but I had managed it in spite of my misgivings. And, before night fell, I had also managed to lead them to the cover of the forests, very near to Lothlorien. It was here where we made our camp for the evening--here, where the Hobbits freely expressed the grief that I had rushed out of them in my hurry to bring us to safety. Boromir sulked sullenly at the camp's edge, while the bereaved Hobbits wept within its confines and Gimli tried to speak bravely of the wizard, to bolster the spirits of all. I felt at that moment that I could do nothing for any of them...and if I failed to govern such a small, though important, body of people, how was I ever to govern a nation of them? I had gone through two full pipes already in my worry, and rummaged then through my pack to find weed enough to fill a third. It was then that I felt a hand upon my shoulder; Legolas had come up silently behind me. "We should scout this place," he said quietly. "To be certain we will no be surprised in the night." I nodded my agreement, relieved at my friend's suggestion to draw me away from the group's misery for just a moment, so that I could think more clearly. I announced our plan to scout tothe others as if it had been my own idea, and when I received a nod from Gimli and a glower from Boromir, Legolas and I set out into the darkening woods. Men are impulsive creatures. We do not ruminate for any real length of time on most decisions we make; not nearly as long as the Elves think upon theirs. Our short lives waste our reason, for we do not use it well enough, or long enough, or often enough. If I had given any thought to the events of that day, and to Legolas' strange look of fear upon the hill, I would have expected what was to follow that evening. And then, perhaps, the ultimate outcome might have been...more pleasant. But I am only a Man, and as such, I was utterly unprepared. GO TO Chapter Two BACK to Chapter Index BACK to Gypsie Index BACK to Fanfic Index BACK to Main Page |