[Ealasaide]

Ealasaide's Post - Benia

Closing her eyes, Benia let herself melt into the warmth of Dúlrain’s embrace, wishing deep in her heart that she could remain suspended forever in that instant of total and near flawless joy. He loved her. For that one fleeting instant, nothing else mattered. All of the pain and fear and heartache of the previous several weeks vanished like rain clouds after a storm, leaving the world a place of fresh and sparkling beauty, a place where a future was possible. She returned his embrace and his kiss with all of the intense love and longing she had kept hidden for so long. Finally, she drew back, touching his face with her fingertips.

“Crazy?” she echoed, a gentle smile floating at the corners of her lips. “Perhaps, but you have no idea how much I longed to hear those very words. I have loved you since the moment our eyes first met - do you remember? When you lifted my veil back on that dusty side street in Bree. I knew then that you were the one for me. I could think of nothing but how or if we might meet again.”

“I, too, was haunted by the image of your face.” He bent forward and kissed her forehead. “You have no idea how startled I was to find such a lovely creature hidden beneath all of that drapery. Of course, Kaldir was passing you off as his wife at the time. I believed him and, as such, was forced to deny my feelings for you completely, believing that you would remain forever beyond the reach of my heart or even of my hope.”

“Kaldir,” Benia whispered, thinking again of the scarred face and scarred soul of her one-time abductor. “Did you know that he asked me to become his wife?”

“Yes, Gilly told me.”

“He said that since coming to know me, he had begun to wish to be a better man again. All I did was lead him to his death.”

“No.” Dúlrain shook his head. Lifting Benia along with him, he rose to his feet. “It was that evil elf who led him to his death. She used you. You must not blame yourself.” He looked over in the direction of Ferny, Naiore’s deceased henchman, a bitterness passing fleetly over his features. “I was as much to blame as you were in that, anyway. I should have spoken for you the moment I awoke and found you still at my bedside, but I will rectify that now.” With a look of firm resolution, he turned to face Benia again and took her hands in his. “Since I know of no one to ask for your hand,” he said, looking tenderly into her shining amber eyes. “Your father being dead and your family far distant and scattered, I shall ask it of you directly. May I have your hand in marriage?”

“Yes!” Benia answered instantly, without even a second’s hesitation. “Oh, yes, a thousand times, yes.”

They kissed again, but were soon interrupted by the soft sound of coughing off to one side. They parted to discover that Gilly had joined them and stood waiting a polite distance away, coughing theatrically into her pocket handkerchief. A very wan and pale Toby Longholes leaned on her arm. Seeing that her presence had been noticed, Gilly blushed slightly and crammed the handkerchief back into the pocket of her pinafore. For a brief instant, Benia’s sparkling eyes flew back and forth from one hobbit’s face to the other, as if uncertain which to address first. Finally, she spoke.

“Toby!” she exclaimed in delight. “You’re walking!”

“Yes,” answered the hobbit. “It would seem so. I was just saying to Mrs. Banks that I had thought this was going to be the end of me. Happy to say, it’s not!”

“Happy indeed!” said Dúlrain, smiling as well. “Judging by what Benia had told me, I figured you for the very brink of death‘s door. That was a nasty blow. But, seeing as all’s well,” he added with an affectionate glance at Benia, “ we have some happy news of our own.”

“We’re going to be married,” Benia explained, looking quickly toward Gilly for her approval.

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Hilde's Post - Gilly

“Married?” Gilly asked blinking at the two who stood before her. “Married! Why that is the most promising news I’ve heard in - well, in quite a long while, no doubt about it! It is high time you had someone to watch over you Miss Benia. And you’ve no idea how happy I am that you have chosen this fine man here!” After thinking a moment the hobbit added, “No mistaking, you had me worried there, Mr. Dúlrain. I didn’t know what I’d find when I got ‘round to climbing out of that hollow. But here you are arm in arm, and I see you got the upper hand on that rare scoundrel Ferny. Just where is the brute?” she said asked looking rapidly around her. “You don’t suppose he’s gone to join Naiore again?” Her eyes grew wide with the thought. “We certainly don’t need those two sneaking around us now do we?”

Squinting around and about Toby also searched for signs of his fellow Breelander, and finding what he sought, an expression of disgust twisted his sharp features. “Not to worry Mrs. Banks, a rather definite end seems to have come to that particular problem. I’ll warrant old Barrold won’t be troubling us anymore,” he said to calmly reassure Gilly as her friend and Dúlrain joined them. Gilly bit her lip to see the grim sight and she felt Toby’s hand slide off her shoulder to cradle his arm as he bowed in gratitude. “I am greatly indebted to you Dúlrain, both for your aid as well as your thoroughness. You’ve made more than these ladies glad with Barrold Ferny’s passing, there are many in Bree who would thank you if they only knew of it.”

“Then they should thank you as well, and I am happy to have been of service, but I admit he left me little choice but to oblige you,” the ranger murmured quietly, studying the line of the hobbit’s neck and shoulder. Noticing the look of concern in the ranger’s eyes, Gilly yielded her position. Dúlrain, reluctantly releasing Benia’s hand, took up Toby’s forearm, supporting it at the joint. With a firm touch he ran his fingers over the hobbit’s injured shoulder. “I see that not all is as well as it would first appear. You’ve a bone that has been wrenched awry. I can try to pull it in line again, but it is not sure to stay, and unfortunately can not be done without pain.”

“Ah, that would be why I feel I’m still on the spit,” the hobbit growled. And looking to the pale blue sky he sighed deeply, “I see a buzzard has already found our little crew, and I wager he is eyeing this sorry hobbit thinking to himself that he and his friends may just have room for dessert after their feast, eh? Go ahead sir, and do what must be done, I’ve a mind to deprive that glutton!”

“Hush, don’t speak of such things!” Gilly piped up following Toby’s gaze. “You are not by any stretch a ‘sorry hobbit’ and even if you were, you are not going to die so long as we are here. It is a small thing, only a bone now.”

“I know Mrs. Banks, but just tell that to him!” Toby scowled, waving his good arm as though he would frighten the bird away. “And though, as you say, it is a small bone it is not so very small to me. My livelihood has been in the skill of my hands as much as my wits, so to speak.”

“But my husband is always looking for reliable help, and he’s a good person too. He’ll not let you starve,” Gilly said.

“Now that your future seems less uncertain, let us get you out of the sun,” Benia suggested. “Rest a little while in the shade so that Dúlrain might work on your shoulder without the distraction of a hungry shadow passing overhead.”

But as Benia and Dúlrain helped Toby to the grove of trees, Gilly grew restless wondering how long it might be before she might see her family again, and she wandered away. And she could not figure how they would continue on trailing Naiore with the injured Breelander and no pony to set him on. Idly picking up a few small stones she threw them at the circling bird, considering the options. Yes, she would be willing now to stay behind with Longholes if it came down to that, and together they could try to find their way back to Rivendell and from there the Shire. But what would Benia do with Dúlrain on this chase? If only she would wish to accompany them as far as the elven refuge. That was Gilly’s hope, but how could she ask her good friend to leave Dúlrain, even for her own safety? Suddenly a chill came over her heart as she wondered if they both would even live to return when. So many had perished since they had set out along the way.

As if summoned, Benia appeared at her side with folded arms, and though the day had grown warm, Gilly noticed her friend shiver as she looked over the trampled and crimsoned grass. “I will be glad to leave this place,” she confided. Gilly nodded, curious what course Benia would take when they did leave, and whether she and Toby would be left alone to camp beside the dead man’s corpse.

“I think that we must do something about this,” Gilly said, for even Kaldir had covered the dead orcs with stones, after they had been attacked in the Lonelands. Should they not do the same? “He will smell far worse now that he is dead.”

“Even the foulest of men deserve some sort of burial,” Benia agreed. “In the land of my youth we would burn this body.”

“And right you should too,” Gilly said earnestly. “Such a vile man would make even the carrion fowl sick!”

“Then we should tell Toby he need not worry,” the southern woman said, a faint smile rising to her lips before vanishing suddenly, as her eyes rested again on Ferny. “Shall we gather the wood? I would be thankful to keep busy as long as we are here.”

Walking together to the copse, Benia and Gilly set about gathering fuel for a fire as Dúlrain unwound Toby’s bandage. Glancing up at Benia, Dúlrain asked with surprise why they gathered wood; for he had not planned that they camp here, but thought to continue, leaving the open plain as soon as possible.

“It is not for us,” Benia said, meeting his gaze, “but we thought to burn the body, so that the dead man might embrace his doom.”

Seeing that the ranger was weighing this, Gilly asked Benia to wait for her. Picking up her skirts, the hobbit hurried again to Toby’s side. “Please let us do this Mr. Dúlrain,” she whispered so that the southern woman would not hear. “I think Miss Benia would feel more settled knowing as Ferny’s really gone for good, she’s been through so much you know. And I’d not complain for a short delay, I should think that Mr. Longholes wouldn’t have objections either, seeing his condition.” Gilly was hoping for Toby’s backing, but the hobbit sat back offering no opinion on the matter, and simply watched ranger’s expression.

After making a few more half-reasoned arguments, Gilly managed to persuade him. “Do as you both see fit, Mrs. Banks,” Dúlrain said. “But once the fire is lit we must leave immediately, for the column of smoke will be seen at a great distance,” Gilly frowned hearing this. Her plan to make time for Toby to rest had not worked as well as she had hoped, and she hadn’t considered that the Ravenor or her orcs might see the smoke from their fire. At the present it all seemed so far removed from her now. Those dangers were in the past, and should not return to spoil their respite. Dúlrain called to Benia, “The wood is wet and won’t catch easily. If you both can wait awhile longer, I will tend the body for you.”

“No we will manage this Dúlrain, you are doing far better work seeing to the living,” the southern woman answered gently, gracefully stepping further in among the young trees.

Gilly, still rattled to learn the ranger meant to leave so quickly, reminded herself that this good man would not ask more of Toby than he thought the hobbit could endure. And reluctantly putting aside her plan to dawdle, she asked Dúlrain if she might use his flint and steel. “No doubt Miss Benia knows a thing or two of lighting a fire, wet or no!” she informed him rather proudly. And encouraged to see the man’s gray eyes sparkle at the confidence she had in her dear friend’s skill, she winked at him, “She’d be the one to make you a nice pot of tea on those rainy days when your bones have grown old and tired! Plenty of practice at that, you know. Just as you yourself have had!” Taking the flint he offered, she patted his hand and smiled before starting off to find Benia.

Stumbling over a grubby pack lying abandoned at the side of the grove, the hobbit hoisted the greasy thing up. “What should be done with this?” she called back.

“It belonged to Ferny,” she heard Benia call behind her, “We can place in the fire once it is going.” Dúlrain nodded in agreement, but Toby spoke up straight away.

“Not so quick! There is sommat in that bag there, that don’t rightly belong to Ferny, nor the fire - though Ferny’d argue the point, if he could. I suppose you could say they’re ‘ill-gotten gains’, but I imagine you might be interested in them all the same.”

Gilly set the bag down, untying the flap and drawing it wide open to rummage through its contents. “I don’t see anything worth mentioning, Mr. Longholes,” she declared. “Not so much as fresh linen or comb! Only the very simple or the strange: a well used whet stone, and a fishing hook and some books with carved covers - I can’t think he used them much – see they have no pages!” she said pulling one out. Blackened and smeared with ashes, she set the burnt binding on the ground, and wiping her hand on her skirt. It was no bigger than a man’s hand.

Toby’s smiled, “Ah, there we have it, Mrs. Banks. Only the books binding they are now, for they have tasted fire once before, when Naiore set ‘em ablaze. But the covers now, they didn’t burn did they? And Ferny was right quick in fishing them out once the Ravenor was done with them. I’ve not much good to say about Barrold Ferny, but he had a sharp eye for profit. Maybe you should let our ranger friend here have a look at them.”

Gilly brought the cover and the pack holding the second one to Dúlrain who looked at them with interest, rubbing the corner of the binding until it shone brightly. “Silver!” Gilly said peering over his shoulder. “You were right, but they can’t be so valuable, they’re not heavy at all.”

“Oh but they are, this is elven work and mithril by the look of them,” Dúlrain said. “I wonder what it was that caused Naiore to burn something so rare. Perhaps those in Imladris would remember what had been set down in these exquisite volumes, for they were no ordinary books.”

“And to think I would have pitched them in the fire, knowing so little of such things! Is they’re anything else that shouldn’t be lost?” Gilly asked, handing the bag to the ranger.

After a quick look, Dúlrain set it down, “No,” he answered. “There is nothing else.”

“Not even a few coins?” Toby asked in amazement.

“Yes, there are coins, but we’re not here for spoils.” Dúlrain said. “The covers are a different matter, and may help those who would stop Naiore should she elude them. We will not be keeping them.”

Gilly saw that Toby looked a bit crest fallen, working to resign himself to the fact that what Ferny had owed him was now to be an irretrievable loss. “Those books certainly didn’t seem to bring about good for their owners, now did they?” she mused aloud. “First stolen I suppose, and then Barrold passed too. Let’s hope they bring Naiore similar bad fortune.”

“Mrs. Banks, you’re making me think I dare not touch them!” Toby said sullenly.

“Not to worry since you don't own them! But I must go help Miss Benia, and you must grit your teeth and let Dúlrain try to fix you up, so he and Miss Benia won’t leave us behind.”

“Leave you behind?” the ranger echoed. “Even if I have to carry you half of the way, I would not depart without my stalwart companions.”

“But you are in such a hurry,” Gilly said. “We will slow you down now more than before.”

“Yes, I am in a hurry, “Dúlrain smiled to himself as he returned his attention to Toby’s shoulder, “But not the same sort. I no longer intend to pursue Naiore now that Benia is free, and will not now willingly lead us within the elf’s reach.”

Overjoyed by this revelation, a weight of worry was lifted from Gilly’s slight shoulders. “Does Miss Benia know this?”

“Indeed she does,” the ranger said as he gently pulled the injured hobbit’s arm. “I believe that she is the only one who could have shown me so well that I need not continue.”

Toby flinched with pain, grimacing as the ranger worked swiftly on his shoulder, easing the bone back in place before the hobbit had second thoughts. But Toby clearly had had enough for the moment, and muttered that he wished that he could convince Dúlrain that he need not continue this pulling. But when the ranger asked if he had changed his mind, Toby only requested a brief interval in which to ‘steel himself’ once more. “The worst is over. I have only to bind your arm to keep the weight from your shoulder,” Dúlrain reassured him, before turning to Gilly, who was hovering around them. “With Master Longholes injuries, I think it would be far better for us to see him back to Imladris, don’t you?” he asked her.

“Oh most assuredly Mr. Dúlrain!” Gilly said smiling at Toby who suddenly brightened, not only because Dúlrain had stopped tugging, but apparently as happy as she, to learn of their new course. “If you will excuse me then…,” she said as Dúlrain, began sorting through Toby’s ragged bandages. “I’ll not hang about here letting Miss Benia do all the work when I have said I’d do otherwise.” As she left she exclaimed, “Rivendell! Perhaps if I could just settle down enough to make myself useful, we could leave this very morning! ”

With that the hobbit bolted to where she saw Benia emerge from the trees holding a long bundle of branches tucked under her arm. Without thinking Gilly threw her arms about the southern woman’s waist causing her to take a half step back, regaining her balance. “Miss Benia, Dúlrain is not going to die and neither are we!” she pronounced with enthusiasm. “Not for a long while yet anyway, I should hope. You didn’t tell me that we were going back to Rivendell!”

Benia looked up, and following her friend’s gaze Gilly saw that Dúlrain and Toby were watching them with amusement. A smile blossomed on Benia’s face as she met their gaze. “I did not know, where Dúlrain would choose to go now,” she said quickly casting her warm eyes on her friend once more. “But I am glad that it will be Imladris.”

“I had better get busy then, and help you instead of simply talking of it!” Gilly said. And true to her word, she labored hard alongside Miss Nightshade so that together they heaped a sizable collection of fallen limbs and brush about Barrold Ferny’s body. Fetching his pack, Gilly quickly placed it at the man’s feet while Benia knelt beside the pyre with flint and steel. The southern woman’s lips moved, giving voice to words from a far distant land, as she patiently struck sparks amidst the wood. It was a wonder to Gilly to hear her friend speak in such a strange language, though it brought with it long forgotten memories of Benia’s mother when she had lapsed into her native speech.

Before long, a small light appeared glowing among the tangled debris, and Benia fanned it carefully before, assured of its strength, she stood up again to watch. “What was it you said just then?” Gilly asked her softly, watching the reflection of the small spreading flames in her friend’s eyes. “It sounded like a poem, though I dare say I don’t see that you would want to recite poetry to that one.”

As Benia explained that it was a simple prayer for the dead, Dúlrain drew up, followed closely by Toby who now walked unaided. The ranger stopped to stand beside Miss Nightshade observing the growing blaze in silence before looping his arm about her. She leaned her head back against his chest, still staring at the flames. “We are ready now to leave,” she told him.

“Yes, let’s put all this behind us and head west again,” Gilly broke in. “I’ve always been more fond of weddings than funerals, anyway! And just maybe, I will live to see you both married if we don’t keep standing beside this beacon here!”

“Come, let us go then,” Dúlrain said. And together the four of them put the Great River to their backs. Toward the line of the trees they went, and the mountains beyond.