Chapter 7. 

Many Surprises

Driven by the need to quickly find the others and alert them to the danger that had become a real threat rather than just a possibility, the two men moved swiftly and silently through the forest. Knowing that Gandalf intended to lead the Fellowship on in his absence, rather than retrace their steps, Aragorn chose to head further south towards where he was certain their paths would eventually cross. Boromir readily agreed with the plan, and spurred on by a sense of urgency, the two men moved swiftly and warily through the forest.

They had travelled for perhaps half a day, Boromir judged by the length of the shadows, when Aragorn stopped abruptly, holding his hand up to indicate his companion to do likewise. Without a word, the ranger bent down to examine something in the undergrowth, shaking his head slightly as if in disbelief at what he found there.

“What is it? More signs of Orcs?” Boromir asked, looking around cautiously, his hand immediately finding the hilt of his sword. Aragorn stood and with a smile of relief on curving his lips, he pointed triumphantly to the patch of grass.

“ Nay, signs of our friends. They are all well and passed this way several hours ago,” Aragorn said with certainty.

“How can you tell?” Boromir asked with genuine curiosity, searching the undergrowth but seeing only grass and fallen leaves. “I see nothing out of the ordinary here.”

“Nor are you meant to unless you have been trained to see otherwise,” Aragorn replied. “Look a little more closely. Do you not see a single strand of golden hair woven around seven blades of grass?” Boromir did as instructed and after several minutes of close study, he found the marker.

“Ah… our friend Legolas has made a small sacrifice for us, I presume?” Boromir grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement at a memory conjured by his words. The Elf suffered much good-natured teasing as a result of his constantly well-groomed and frequently washed locks, especially from Gimli.  Aragorn chuckled his agreement at the unspoken thought and nodded.

“Aye, ‘tis an elvish sign. Seven blades of grass, one for each of our companions and aside from being bent ever so slightly to point in the direction we are to follow, none are damaged, a common sign that they are also uninjured. I judge them to be about three hours’ brisk walk ahead.” Boromir did not bother to ask how Aragorn knew that, but he trusted his skill in the matter.

“Then we should make haste. The sooner we rejoin them and raise the alarm, the sooner I will feel at ease,” Boromir said, indicating for Aragorn to resume the lead.

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Twilight was rapidly falling, the loss of light turning the warm green, brown and golden hues of the forest to cold shades of grey, and allowing the evening mist to dampen the air. An eerie quietness like the calm before a storm surrounded them, and when Aragorn stiffened as if he had heard or sensed some unseen danger a chill ran down Boromir’s spine. With a glance towards Boromir that clearly said, ‘make no move’, Aragorn slowly drew his sword, then moved swiftly, turning to swing it in an arc, resting the point against the neck of the intruder he suddenly felt standing behind him. Boromir felt an easing of the tension in the air at the appearance of a friend rather than foe, as well as a trace of confusion. Aragorn seemed not at all surprised to see the Elf, it was almost as if he was expecting him, Boromir thought as he watched the almost playful scene.

“Well met, Legolas. Do you concede defeat?” the ranger asked triumphantly.

“You wield your sword with much skill, Aragorn. Aye, I believe you have won this time,” Legolas said, smiling as he stepped back out of harm’s way.

“ ‘Tis not often I manage to catch you off guard,” the ranger agreed as he sheathed his sword. He noted the frown creasing Boromir’s brow and explained. “ When I was younger, I spent some time in Mirkwood learning some of the skills of the Wood Elves from Legolas, one of which was how to approach another without being seen or heard. He often challenged me to do so then, and that challenge still holds to this day.”

“Aragorn is a skilled woodsman, but he is no Elf and so rarely does he succeed in besting me,” Legolas added, eyes alight with mischief and a hint of elvish pride in his sweet voice.

“Indeed I do not, but the challenge has become a kind of game in which we allow ourselves to indulge should the chance arise.” Aragorn added with a smile that faded in the face of the sparks of anger that flashed in Boromir’s eyes.

“Danger lurks everywhere, and we are likely being hunted by Sauron’s minions. Now is hardly the time, nor is this the place for childish games. Such behaviour is not worthy of one who claims to be a leader of men, or a king uncrowned,” the Steward’s son commented disapprovingly.

“I sensed no danger, and I knew that Legolas was close by and likely searching for us,” Aragorn replied with a coldness that indicated his own displeasure with Boromir’s attitude.

“ Not only have I been expecting your return, but I have also been scouting the area to ensure the others are safe as they sleep,” Legolas replied trying not to take offence at the man’s arrogance. He knew Boromir had only the interests of the others at heart.

“Are our companions nearby?” Aragorn asked, forestalling any further confrontation.

“Aye, they are resting in a small cave that borders the clearing through these trees," Legolas said moving in the direction indicated as he spoke. Aragorn and Boromir followed in silence, the lightness of the amicable friendship of the last few days disappearing for the moment under the shadow of harsh words and hurt pride.

“Aragorn!”

“Boromir!”

“Welcome back!” the cheerful voices of Merry, Pippin and Gimli greeted the men as they entered the clearing.

“I see your quest was successful,” Gandalf said as he nodded towards the bulging packs, his smile turning to a frown as he noted the dark looks on the two faces and the slight shrug of the Elf’s shoulders. “Is something amiss?” He asked with concern, Aragorn’s attempt at a reply was interrupted by hobbits eager to sample the contents of the supply packs.

“We’ll take those and give them to Sam.  It is well past some meal time or other,” Merry said as he and Pippin carried the food over to where Sam and Frodo were seated around the small campfire.

“What’s in the box, I wonder?” Pippin asked as he began removing the various items of food from Boromir’s pack.

“A treat for us all, but my little friends in particular,” Boromir replied, laughing merrily when then shrieks of delight indicated the pastries had been found. He glanced at Aragorn who could not help but return the smile, amused at the hobbits delight, the numerous hugs of gratitude Boromir was happily enduring and most of all, the sight of Gandalf licking some of the sweet, fruity filling from his fingers.

 “Now whilst our Shire folk are otherwise occupied, would you care to answer my question, Aragorn?” The wizard asked in a quiet voice so as not disturb the rare moment of joy Boromir’s simple, yet greatly appreciated gift had brought to the Fellowship.

“I feared as much,” Gandalf said after listening to Aragorn detail the unpleasant signs he had discovered. “We must continue to travel by day, and be even more on our guard as the journey south becomes increasingly perilous. Now, shall we go and see what excellent fare our Samwise has managed to prepare with his bounty?” Gandalf said as he walked over to the fire where the hobbits sat eagerly waiting for the delicious looking vegetable stew to be cooked. Gimli and Legolas joined the wizard, leaving Aragorn and Boromir to their uncomfortable silence.

“You have a kind heart, Boromir,” Aragorn said as he clasped the other man’s shoulder, making an attempt to mend the breach caused by their disagreement. “And the courage to speak your mind, as a good Steward should, albeit in a rather abrupt manner.”

“ I meant what I said before, but perhaps I could have spoken with less insult. After all, neither you nor Legolas need reminding of the darkness we are yet to encounter,” Boromir conceded, accepting the unspoken, if not entirely complimentary apology and offering his own in return. He cast a friendly smile in the direction of the Elf who he knew had heard the brief exchange of words, and was relieved to see an answering smile on the ageless face.

“Let us dwell on the incident no longer, my friend” Aragorn said, reaching to clasp Boromir’s wrist in the manner of soldiers.

“Aye, ‘tis already a thing of the past,” Boromir replied, returning the handclasp. “As will our share of the pies be if we leave them in reach of Merry and Pippin any longer,” he added with a conspiratorial wink.

“Then we must go and claim what is ours right now, unless you would prefer to ‘dress’ for dinner first, my lord?” Aragorn snickered, playfully tugging on the sleeve of Boromir’s under tunic.

“There will be occasions aplenty we will both be required to do so after we reach Gondor, my unkempt friend,” Boromir laughed, equally playfully ruffling the ranger’s unruly hair.  “And truth be told, I find I am content to remain a ‘ranger’ for a little while longer.”