The queen of the forgotten kingdom

Chapter 15

The pain you feel after the loss of someone dear was too familiar with Faya. She had felt it when her parents died, and she had felt it when Òre died. She lost much but she never lost the zest for life.
But now, when she saw the wizard fall, something deep inside her seemed to break. She didn't know what it was but it hurt and to be true, she didn't even wanted to know what it was.
The following hours the young woman lived in a dream.
She let Aragorn drag her with him, into the sunshine on the other side.
The man sat her down on a stone.
She was pale, and her eyes were looking into nowhere. Tears glittered in her sliver eyes and began to run down her cheeks.
Then, suddenly she looked at him.
Pain was laying in her eyes, pain and grief over the death of a friend.
He hugged her.
He held her tight, never wanting to let go.
But it went dark and they decided to continue walking.
The fellowship pulled themselves up, spoke a funeral oration and some silent prayers for the wizard and walk into the north.

Aragorn walked quickly making it difficult for the Hobbits and he still hurt Faya to follow. So, they fell behind.
Sam was feeling dreadful. His cuts were burning, and his head was as light as one of those cirrostrati above their heads on the vespertine sky.
They hadn't eaten anything since the morning and also Frodo was weak.
He gasped for air heavily. So much, that Faya offered them to sit on her back, but both declined politely. They wouldn't want to stress the half-wolf unnecessarily.

Finally, Legolas noticed that they had fallen behind and told it to Aragorn, who came back at once, followed by Boromir and the elf. He begged for forgiveness for at least a million times, promised to make a pause soon, and took Frodo and carried him.
Boromir took Sam and Legolas turned to Faya.
She refused to be carried by the elf or anyone else. Legolas offered he a kind smile and said she could just lean on him then. On that Faya agreed and so, he supported her, but not without sending her worried glares every now and then. And as he looked at her a deep worry line formed on his forehead.
The half-wolf was pale. Her eyes were empty and dull, almost feverish.
She leaned heavily against him and stubbled every few steps. He saw that her clothes were bloody at her side again. In all that rush and struggle the wound, the wargs had made, must have opened again.

Soon they had found a place to rest and Legolas carefully let Faya down n the gras, where she stayed, heavily breathing and with closed eyes.
Aragorn looked after he Hobbits.
Sams wounds were fortunately not as bad as they looked and Aragorn told him to wash the cuts, so they won't inflame.
Frodo on the other hand refused take of his shirt. But Aragorn stayed stubborn and eventually the Hobbit gave in.
He took of is jacket and his shirt... and revealed a silver cuirass. He took it off and showed hit to his friends. They were very surprised by that beautiful Mithril shirt, and Frodo explained he would have got it from Bilbo.
But although he had worn the cuirass he was hurt.
On his right side and his chest he had a nasty black bruise. And his left side was bruised from the throw against the wall.
Aragorn washed it with the Athelas-brew.
Then he turned to Faya, who was still laying motionless on the ground.
Worried he bend over her. She was breathing, but beside that she wasn't showing any sign of life.
"What were you thinking?", he whispered, so just she could hear him. "Alone against a pack of Wargs. What was going on in that stubborn head of yours?"
The half-wolf opened her eyes. And slightly smiled at him.
"Nothing of course.", she answered quietly.

Aragorn washed her wounds and bandaged he. Then he told her to go to sleep and went over to the fire, where the others were admiring Frodos cuirass.

A cool nightly wind met the fellowship when they reached trees with golden leaves.
"Lothlórien.", Legolas called.
„Lothlórien", Aragorn repeated.
Both seemed happy to be here.
They had only gone about a mile into the woods when they reached a stream.
Legolas explained that this wound be the Nimrodel, and nudged Faya, who was still refusing to be carried, and was leaning against him.
"Look.", he whispered. "Were in Lothlórien."
The half-wolf opened her eyes a bit. Just a little gap, but the elf could see the light, that was shining in them again.
"Can I go down? To the water?", she asked with a small and weak voice.
He nodded and told the others he would bath his feet after their long journey. Legolas sat Faya down at the waterside, so her feet could reach the clear, cold water.
The elf told his friends of Lothlórien and eventually began to sing a song of Nimrodel. In the second verse another voice joined his.
They turned and saw Faya, who was sitting a bit on the side on a rock, singing with a quiet, but clear voice.
After a while Legolas stopped, for he had forgotten the rest of the song, but Faya knew it and continued singing for another while before she didn't know it any further and stopped.
After a short silence Legolas continued his story.