Unexpectedly turned into a cat, Kat falls into Middle-earth with the mission to prevent a death. In a feline form she can only communicate with the elf Legolas - and that he is such an attractive specimen is certainly not helpful...
A humorous (but...
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"It is said that your life flashes before your eyes just before you die. That is true, it's called Life."
― Terry Pratchett, The Last Continent
34. Weaver of Fate
Dead elves were a remarkably boring company. None of them ever replied when Nellas tried to strike a conversation, and it did not take long until she gave up. Instead she had spent the past days in silence, but that was alright. She had been dreaming; pleasant, fluffy dreams she couldn't quite recall (other than that they were lovely).
Sitting straighter in the boat, despite the ache in her wound, Nellas regarded their surroundings. She saw dark, stagnant water between tufts of grass and moss, a few black swans, and in the distance the towering mountains against the evening sky. They appeared to be a little bit closer than the last time she looked, but not much.
She felt better today, and her head was clearer than in a long time.
"Where are we?" she asked.
Boromir's answer was a deepening frown.
"When will we come to your city?" she tried.
He sighed morosely. "When I have found the way out of this accursed swamp." Then his gaze landed on her, and he brightened. "You look good." Reaching out, he checked her forehead.
She leaned against his hand. "Thank you."
"Less warm too. How are you feeling?"
"Fine." She smiled.
Reflectively he returned the smile, but it waned much too soon. "What good does that do, if we starve to death anyway? We have hardly any lembas left, and it must be two days since I caught those frogs." His stomach made a gurgling sound, reminding him of all the meals it had missed.
"You could ask someone for directions," she suggested.
He laughed mirthlessly. "Great idea. I suppose the dead could help."
"No, they cannot. They refuse to reply." She looked around, and her gaze fell on a black swan. Hello there. Can you lead us to the river?
I might. Its beady eye gleamed calculatingly. If I do, then what's in it for me?
Don't you want to help someone in need?
No.
Be that way then. If you help us, we will feed you.
Prove it. Give me a taste. It glided closer, producing tiny ripples in the murky water.
"Can I have a lembas crumb?"
Boromir bit his lip, glancing at their meagre supply. Then he nodded. "Of course. You need to eat to get well, and I am not very hungry anyway."
She accepted the small piece. "Thank you, but it is not for me." She tossed it at the swan who quickly gobbled it up.
