Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Taking over this town, they should worry
But these problems aside I think I taught you well

That we won't run, and we won't run, and we won't run

And in the winter night sky ships are sailing
Looking down on these bright blue city lights

And they won't wait, and they won't wait, and they won't wait
We're here to stay, we're here to stay, we're here to stay

Howling ghosts they reappear
In mountains that are stacked with fear
But you're a king and I'm a lionheart
A lionheart

His crown lit up the way as we moved slowly
Past the wondering eyes of the ones that were left behind

Though far away, though far away, though far away

We're still the same, we're still the same, we're still the same
Howling ghosts they reappear
In mountains that are stacked with fear
But you're a king and I'm a lionheart

And in the sea that's painted black
Creatures lurk below the deck
But you're a king and I'm a lionheart

And as the world comes to an end
I'll be here to hold your hand
Cause you're my king and I'm your lionheart

Lionheart

Lionheart

A lionheart 

A lionheart 

A lionheart 

A lionheart 

Howling ghosts they reappear
In mountains that are stacked with fear
But you're a king and I'm a lionheart.

And in the sea that's painted black
Creatures lurk below the deck
But you're a king and I'm a lionheart

A lionheart

A lionheart

A lionheart

A lionheart

A lionheart

A lionheart

A lionheart

A lionheart 

Chapter Text

Dark, red-rimmed eyes blinked open. The world was bright and glaring. Their eyelids shut again.

“Flash!” A voice yelled

Loud pops came from all around her. Cairo ducked her head, her left hand, drenched in blood, coming up to protect her face. The flash exploded a few yards to her left. She was in the clear. She looked down and got back to work, twisting a yellow tourniquet onto a soldiers leg. She slid her swiss knife back into place.

“Medic!” came from behind her.

“One Second!” She yelled over her shoulder, finishing the knot.

“Medic ASAP!”

“Alright! Jesus H. Titties-” She grumbled, tying the knot and looking at the soldier, his teeth were biting into a glove, his eyes looking at her with fear and worry. She put a hand to his shoulder and said in a clear voice. “Stay low, call for help. Keep pressure-” She grabbed his hands and placed them over the wound packing gauze. “Or else you could hemorrhage. You understand?”

His eyes widened and he nodded vigorously.

“Good. You'll be okay. Get home safe, Brentworth”

She turned and hurried to where she heard herself being called.

“Here!” She called, seeing a head immediately look up and around. It looked like Hendricks, the newbie on the squad, and she could already see him turning green.

She ran up to their cover, crouching behind the parked and bullet-ridden humvee to see the battalion leader, Captain Taylor, on the ground clutching their hip.

“Damn, Captain, you caught a few huh? Let me see,” Cairo crouched besides them, bring her hands to the side of their company commander. It looked pretty bad, not life threatening but worth a surgery at least.

“Whatdya stop for ice cream, Lieutenant?” The Captain hissed through clenched teeth as Cairo took her swiss army knife and sliced apart their uniform and got a better look at the wound, “Fuck that hurts like a bitch.”

Cairo huffed a laugh, glancing up at the decorated officer. “You can feel that but you still got jokes? Yeah, I think you'll be okay.”

“Ill have your bars on my desk if you don't quit your yapping and fix it,” Taylor huffed, their hands were gripping Cairos upper arm, not enough to restrict movement as she worked but enough for Cairo to feel like the Captain was about to shake her silly. She wiped her hands on her pants and tore open her aid pack, then she glanced up at the green-gilled sergeant watching them with wide eyes.

“Hendricks, go tell Unit 1 the Captain is coming back. Tell them to send two men with a gurney, copy?” Cairo got her hands into blue gloves and picked up the wound wash and gauze
“But-”
“If I had time for a ‘but’ id call your mother. Go now!” Cairo demanded and then the soldier was off, running back towards the main unit, knees bent and body low to the ground. Cairo was grateful he at least remembered to bob and weave. Pops continued to fire around them and they sounded like they were getting closer.

“Why didn't you radio?” The Captain asked, touching briefly the lapel of their own vest where a walkie talkie rested.

“Because I couldnt deal with you bleeding and him puking at the same time. Best he leave and also get backup.” Cairo explained and the Captain thought about it for longer than Cairo would've liked before nodded.

“Remind to give you a promotion.”

Cairo huffed again, smiling wily “You already did, Captain.”

“Ahh Thats right. I’m a genius.”

“Yes, Captain. Good news or bad news?.”

The Captain took a breath, “bad.”

“The bullets still inside. As soon as youre back youre going directly into surgery, followed by at least a week of cot-confined staycation.” Cairo explained, doing what she could to slow the bleeding with the few supplies in her medic pac.

“Fuck, I hate that fucking pudding. The good news?”

“Well, I was about to say you'd get all the pudding you want…” Cairo chuckled, putting pressure on the gauze pressed to their skin. The Captain twitched but quickly shoved aside the instinct to buck and let her press down on the skin.

“Fuck…”

“I know. At least-”

There was an explosion to their immediate left. Cairo went flying. There was pain and darkness, and the sound of more pops and yells. And then Silence.

Dark, red-rimmed eyes blinked open. The world was dark and smoke swam around them. Their eyelids shut again. She clenched them, hoping to make the stars go away.

Get up

She opened her eyes again, instead of seeing stars she met pale blue eyes looking at her.

“Get up! Up!”

She reached up with her right hand, and an arm met hers, gripping around her forearm and tugging her body upright. She was lifted quickly and ease, her feet stumbling before she found her balance again. She straightened and looked at the man. No armor, no weapon, just long robes and blond hair.

“Come!”

“Tawaqqafa!”

Cairo blinked, stopped and turned, hand flying to her side arm and pulling it up, aiming towards five oncoming figures.

“tawaqaf hunak!” She yelled back, firing a shot at the closest of the oncoming insurgents. She missed and cursed.

“This way!” the voice said behind her, Cairo backed away as the figures chasing them peaked from behind their cover, the barrel of a gun rose and bullet began to hit the sand at her feet. She started to move faster

“Here!” a voice whispered, pulling her down behind a bend in the terrain, her back hit sand and she scooched back underneath the shadows. The person beside her gripped her sleeve still and pulled her further in. They were underneath a humvee, this one was different and had obviously been there a while.

“Where-”

“Hush!” Cairo whispered, yelled, waiting and listening as the sound of insurgents got closer. They were speaking Arabic.

“Did you see the alien with the arab-speaker?”

“They went this way.”

Footsteps got closer to their location. Cairo focused on breathing slowly and quietly through her nose and then out again. She clutched her gun closer to her body.

For a few moments, there was nothing but painful silence and the occasional sound of boots on sand. But then the footsteps got quiet and the insurgents moved away from the humvee. Cairo started to ease.

She turned and looked at her hiding companion. He had sharp blue eyes looking back at her, wide and uncertain. His long blond hair was knotted, caked in dirt. There were old wounds on his face and arms. His tunic was a faded green and she could see intricate embroidery around the hems. He definitely was not dressed for a trek in the desert, much less combat.
“Who the fuck are you?” Cairo asked, looking down at their clothes again. She noticed he wasn't even wearing shoes.

“I am Galdion. Im running from my captors. You and your fellow soldiers are decidedly against them, are you not? Can you help me?” The figure asked, voice soft and weak but insistent.

“You were captured? Why did they want you?” She whispered yelled, looking around at the land surrounding their hiding spot. “Forget it. Listen, we need to get out of here and make it back to my unit. Can you run?”

The runaway captee blinked before nodding.

“Great. You are going to follow me, you will step where I step. Do you have a weapon on you?”

“Not one I can use.”

“Then it's no good to us. We are going to crawl out of here and head west, do you understand?”

The man nodded. “West. Yes. Lead the way.”

“Good. Lets go.” She crawled out from beneath the humvee and came to kneel beside it. A quick swivel of their location revealed no figures in sight.
“Now”

Without looking behind her, she ran out of the cover of the Humvee and towards the setting sun.

“Wait!”

The sound of shots firing came and the next thing Cairo knew a force slammed into her and she went down. Cairo felt the wind get knocked out of her. Her whole body felt a flash of hot for a moment. She could hear yelling and footsteps running towards them but time seemed to slow and she was overcome by the sound of a voice, deep and rhythmic, whispering in a language she couldn't understand.

A moment later it passed but it was too late. Insurgents stood over them, yelling loudly in Arabic. She kept her eyes shut until the three boots standing besides them turned and began arguing amongst themselves what they should could tell. One reached down and pulled the heavy body off her, she struggled not to suck in a breath as soon as the weight was lifted.

“Get him to the base. Tie his legs this time.”

Cairo peaked her eyes open and saw two of the insurgents start dragging the blonde away. While the other wasnt watching, she turned and looked for her gun. Seeing it laying a few feet from her side. She watched him shift just a bit more and she was up, squeezing the trigger. She hit him square on, he flew back but she was already turning and running for her life.

“Hey!”
“Get her!”

Shots came again and this time, Cairo felt it. She went down clutching her leg.

“Ah! Fuck!” She screamed, grasping it and rolling over in pain.

“Demon woman! She shot the commander. Get the medic!”
“Grab her!”

Voices in the distance radioed for back up meanwhile footsteps came over to her, kicking her gun far away. Cairo hissed as a boot pressed on her leg, she jolted up but was struck in the head by the butt of a rifle. She went down again and her vision woozey

“Stay where you are. You’re going to feel this, bitch.”

“Fuck your mother,” She said and spat att his feet. Another strike hit her temple for her effort.

“The Doctor is dead!” Is all she remembers hearing before hands grabbed her lapel and pulled her off the ground slightly.

“Pta! Your lucky day, American.”

Another blow and then there was darkness.

~

~

~
Dark eyes shot open but saw nothing, fabric covered her eyes.

Sensations came back to Cairos body, the strongest one being pain. It radiated from the side of her thigh, just above her knee and from her head. Flexing her hands, she found they were tied tightly behind her back with coarse rope. There were gruff voices speaking in aggressive tones from one half of the room.

“Just take her outside and shoot her.”

Cairo paused and listened harder. There were two voices, both masculine sounding, coming from somewhere behind her. They were arguing about what to do with her. One seemed adamant on shooting her but the other…

“The woman is a medic. Make her do her job and then shoot her. But if the Commander dies, your head is next.”

Cairo slowly lifted herself up, shifting her body weight and using the floor as leverage until she was sitting. She winced at the sharp stabbing in her leg but resolutely shoved it down. She considered the fabric over her eyes, blocking her sight. It was too tight to be shoved off with a little shoulder motion. The talking paused and then footsteps grew close to her general area. She looked towards the sound of them.

“Commander is bleeding, we are doing our best to stop the bleeding. If you help, we maybe help you. Or at least, not torture you. If you don't help…”

Cairo did not need the sentence to be finished for her mind to fill in the blank. She swallowed thickly.

“Your commander took one straight to the chest, there is likely very little I can do for him.” She commented casually, There was yelling from what sounded like the end of a short hallway and then a man walked away. There was the sound of a door slamming, and a lock sliding into place.

“You will help us, or else.” Came a voice from the two left, this one rough and deep.

“Or else you'll shoot me?” She asked, not bothering to turn around, “Seems like you're going to kill me anyways. So go ahead get it over with.”

“Disrespectful bitch. You will get more than a bullet if i have anything to say about it.” The other voice said and Cairo huffed, trying her hardest to not show how fast her heart was racing, or how shaky her chin felt. She didnt fear death, but she did fear other kinds of pain and she would sooner take her life than be subject to torture.

Thankfully, the men turned and walked away, through a door and somewhere else within the buildling where she could still hear their voices but not make out the words.

“What did they say?”

Cairo paused and whipped her head to the source of the third voice. It sounded like the man from before… the blondey!

“Hello?” She asked, confused and disoriented. Her head moving too fast sent her whole equilibrium off kilter.

“Greetings… Are they threatening us?” He asked again, his voice sounded worse than before.

Cairo opened her mouth to respond but really couldn't think of anything to say to him. She thought he had died. Then she remembered he had pushed her out of the way of a bullet.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course not. They want me to heal their captain, but i told them he's likely going to die,” She answered abruptly, taking another deep breath, “How are you?”

“I am surviving.”

“Glad to hear it.” She sighed, “Are you in the same cell as me?”

“Yes.”

“Are your hands tied behind your back?”

“Yes, they are.”

“Okay… I think we’ll be able to get out of this though we’ll have to get creative. Can you trust me?”

Pointed silence followed her question.
“Perhaps.”

Cairo smiled a weak, half smile. “Good enough. I need you towards me and place your back to mine.”

Slowly, the two met with their backs pressing to eachother. Cairo heard him suck in a breath and wince when he shoulder met hers. Cairo wondered if he had actually caught the bullet that was meant for her... "Are you sure youre okay?" She asked and the blondey hummed. "I will be fine. i've been pierced by many a arrow before." She was perplexed, "A bit different form an arrow but im sure just as painful. Let me try and get these roaps." She followed his hands to the rope over his wrists. Slowly, she began to work at it.

“So was your name again, Blondey?” Cairo asked quietly

“My name is Galadion… and yours?” he asked just as softly

“Nice to meet you. I'm Cairo, Cairo Haydar.” She hummed, “Galadion…Thats an odd name. First or last name”

“My only name. Though odd to you... it is special amongst my kin.” The man replied

Cairo chuckled, “Fair enough. My names sort of strange where i'm from… America y'know? But it was special to my father.”

“We have that in common then…” Galadion replied, shifting his wrists a bit to let her have better access to the tie, “Names are important in my land. They carry the legacy of many generations. My name means son of Galadad, and he was a great warrior, captain of the queens guard with highest honor. He protected me and my kind until the day he died, and now i do the same… at least, i had before I came to these lands.”

“Thats nice…" Cairo tried to focus on two things at once but found her attention divided. At one point her hand swept over Galadions knuckles and she thought she felt a metal band around one finger. She was slightly surprised but kept going, "My first is a city, he was raised in Cairo, Egypt. My last name means Lion in Arabic and my middle… well it's Raven and thats just a bird.”

“Cairo Raven Haydar…?” The blonde man said, placing an uncommon amount of stress on her middle name, his voice was almost a whisper but full of... awe.

“Hold on, Galadion… I think I have a knife on me.” She muttered back, suddenly remembering her fathers swiff knife in her boot. She hissed as she bent her wounded leg underneath her. The bullet was definitely still in her leg and it shifted in her skin as she moved. She could feel the blood soaking her leg and the muscle pulling tightly around it. She would need to pull it out, clean and bandage it as soon as possible, She prayed she would avoid an infection until then.

Eventually, she managed to get her leg close enough to her hands to reach into her boot when she suddenly heard gun shots in the distance. Then the sound of an explosion and more shouting.

“Time to go! Time to go! Get the supplies and meet at the next base!”
“Grab the rocks! Grab the guns!”
“What about the Captain?”
“Hes a dead man… Send him home.”
“What about the Prisoners?!”
“I don't care. Kill them but hurry now!”

Cairo’s breath caught in her chest.

“What did they say?” the soldier asked, his voice resigned as if he already knew

“Theyre leaving… And they don't want to take us with them.” She responded gravely, pushing past the pain in her leg to dig into her boot, feeling the metal of her knife in her shoe. She thanked her stars they hadnt cared enough to search her thoroughly. She gripped the knife with her pointer and middle finger and pulled it from the shoe.

“Stay still.” She commanded, flicking the knife open and putting it towards the ropes. She started to saw vigorously. It was some seconds of baited breathes and close nicks when the ropes finally snapped and came free.
“Can you fight?” She asked
A pause
“I'm a capable fighter. But my wound may not allow it”
The man was swift to free himself and turn towards her. His hands took the knife.
Loud shouts came from above, more gunshots but this time closer. She curse, she had no time.
“I'm going to pick the lock as soon as we get out, grab the first person you see and we'll take his gun-”
“Cairo… Lioness this will not work.”
She angled her head over her shoulder to hear him better. She felt his hands hook under her blind fold and lift it off. She blinked at the world around her, it was a bare dusty dimly lit room. Exactly what she imagined.
“You are not meant to be here… and it is my time to move on. I must give you something before we part.”
She felt an anxiety grip her. “Why dont you give it to me while we get moving. Can you cut these ropes please ?”
This was the thing of her nightmares, dying as a captive in a dank basement. She’d rather die on her feet, fighting with her last breath.
“I will free you, but you must take this gift.” Galadion raised his hand, the one holding her fathers knife and showed her his knuckles. In the dim light she could see the metal band she had felt as she cut his ropes. There on his finger was a ruby red jewel. The jewel was flickering, small but strong with a red light. The ruby was large and looked expensive, almost priceless. She was surprised the insurgents had swiped it.

Suddenly, an inexplicable sense of calm over came her, she felt her shoulder relax, her jaw dropped, “You want to give me a ring? I'm flattered truly but i'm sort of married to work and now may not be the best time-”

“This is Narya, the ring of fire. It's power has been crafted, protected, and cherished for millennium, long before my life and yours. It was meant to find you and now here you are. I have been it's guardian, but now my time has come. Do not fear, Raven. You are in safe now.”

Cairo opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out. Her eyes were drawn towards the ring. Galadion reached up with his other hand and carefully slid the ring off his finger. The jewel continud to flicker like a living fire. She couldn't look away.

The sounds of gunfire faded from around them. She could faintly hear the door opening and closing. Angry words in Arabic demanded her attention but her focus was elsewhere.

Galadion reached down and took her right hand. Carefully, ever so softly, he grabbed her thumb and slid the red ring over it, past her knuckle to rest at the very bottom. It fit perfectly. Suddenly heat traveled up her arm, over her back and down throughout her body. Her hair stood on all ends and her very skeleton seemed to vibrate.

She took a deep breath as the sensation raced up her body and through her head. All pain eased for a moment as her mind filled with noise, the crackling of fire, the whoosh of the sea and the gulls, some dozen voices speaking at once in a language she didn't know. She didnt know what they were saying, but somehow she understood. She was going to be okay.

“Take your knife. You may need it yet.”

The blade was pressed to her palm and her newly adorned hand clenched around it. Her vision faded in and out, her mind and body swayed as vertigo overtook her. She felt herself slipping into unconsciousness but before she went fully into darkness she heard him say

“Navaer... Raven”

And then she was asleep.

Chapter Text

She was swimming in darkness.

Moving lines in multiple colors glowed in the inky blackness, she felt like she was floating in a watery cloud. Her whole body felt weightless and then, she felt pain radiating over her. Her spine was electric and her head pounded like drums. She wanted to clutch her head but she could hardly move. She could feel her whole body now and it felt like she was burning from the inside out. When she went to scream, she couldn't hear it but she could feel her lungs doing it. And then she felt the impact of what could’ve been a humvee hitting her at 55 miles per hour. 

And then the inky, black awareness became unconsciousness...

And then she felt nothing. 

Something poked her shoulder. Then again, but stronger. 

Cairo slowly came to. Her muscles tensed as the sores and bruises all over made themselves known. Her ears fixed on the sound of running water, birds singing, and leaves in the trees being casually rustled by a gentle breeze and small creatures. Beneath her fingers, she could feel soft grass and the occasional stone, leaf or twig. Her hands balled into fists and on her right thumb, was the unfamiliar sensation of a metal ring.

A hand touched her shoulder again, this time shaking her softly. Words whispered over her in a language she couldn't understand. Her last memories came back to her with a swiftness. Her eyes opened. 

Galadion.

She jolted up, grabbed the wrist and turned it away from her. Her other hand came up to push against the stranger's shoulder and they fell backwards from surprise. As her assailant dropped back, she leaned her good knee on their chest, hand flying to her pant pockets, and then her jacket, and then her vest. 

Nothing. 

Sea-green eyes looked up at her, calm yet bright with humor. It was a peculiar expression, given that his back was forced on the ground. His eyes contrasted well against a raised, speculative brow, directed her way. The color matched his short beard that framed his jaw, and the long, dark hair strewn about his face and neck. His face was covered in grime and his hand felt callus and dusty where she pressed it into the ground by his head. His other hand was raised, hovering in front of her collar bone, holding her swiss-army knife.

“Searching for this?”

Cairo seized back and grabbed the knife. He let it go willingly, meanwhile freeing his other wrist to grab hers. One of his legs came up to unseat her, accidentally nudging her wounded leg as she fell down. She hissed with pain but hit the ground surprisingly gently. He leaned over her now, one hand pressing hers to the ground as the other hovered by his face, open-palmed.

Her hand now held the blade to his neck. 

“Peace-” He started but she didn’t let him finish. She pulled her arm back, socking him in the throat with her knuckles, shoving him backwards once more. 

He fell on his back, choking for breath. She turned to run and had succeeded rising to one knee when a hand grabbed the ankle of her wounded leg. She yelled wordlessly and fell down again, turning back to see the man up on his knees, holding his throat with one hand and her ankle with the other. She looked around and saw a round piece of wood about the size of a stop sign sitting on the ground. She reached and grabbed it by the leather straps, turning and wacking the man on the side of the head with it. 

He fell like a sack of potatoes. She froze. He didn’t move.

She looked down at her hands holding the wooden shield. She looked up at him again. He was quiet. She stood and looked around. She was in a clearing in the woods. At it's center was a tiny makeshift campfire, warm with embers but unlit. A few paces away was a tiny stream, deep as her knee yet small in width and running slowly south-west. 

 A horse was tied to a tree not far from them. She stared at it for a moment. It stared back at her with big, watery eyes.

“Where the fuck am i?” She murmured to herself, her throat was dry and her mouth had a taste of copper and sand. She walked over to the stream and studied it. It looked pretty clear but she wasn't sure she wanted to risk dysentery from a sip of dirty water. 

She walked back over to the mans camp and looked amongst his belongings. There was a bed roll, unfurled besides the fire, besides it was a burlap pack, a long cloak, and a saddle bag. She quickly found a water skin resting besides the pack, it was fashioned out of leather or something like it. She momentarily thought about how it was the weirdest water bottle she’d ever seen before uncapping it and taking a sniff. It smelled bland and clean so she took a sip. The water was clean and crisp and it broke her thirst with ease. 

She capped the skin after a few good gulps and looked around again, thinking. The last thing she remembers was that she was in a cell with Galadion under an immediate threat of death… but then he gave her his ring and she passed out. After that there was nothing except darkness and pain. She could remember a flash of light but the memory was so fuzzy.

She examined her situation quickly. She had a few options. 

Option One: Take all his belongings. Run off into the woods. Try to find the nearest civilization for medical attention, careful to avoid being chased down by insurgents, animals or whoever this guy is. Or Option Two: Tie him up, take care of her leg now and ask questions later…. at knife point if necessary.

A few issues arose as she contemplated her options. Firstly, her leg hurt so bad that she probably wouldn't make it far. Secondly, she didn’t know how to ride a horse. 

The man groaned for a moment and Cairo felt her heart rate spike. She had to think fast. Her eyes landed on the horse again. It was tied to the tree with a piece of rope… tiny but clearly effective. It would have to do. She got up and hobbled over. The horse shifted as she got closer, eyeing her apprehensively, so she slowed and raised her open palms. 

“Shh, it's okay.” She cooed soothingly, “I know I totally just wacked your owner over the head but I swear i won't hurt you. I just want to borrow this rope.” 

Cairo didn’t know if the horse understood a thing she said but it didn’t  seem to protest as she got closer and reached for the rope connected to its neck. The rope was thin and shiny like string and tied in an intricate-looking knot. However, as she put her fingers to the knot and tugged, the string came apart easily and fell in her hands. She looked at it a moment perplexed before walking to where the man was passed out. 

Cairo held her breath as she nudged his shoulder gently, and then a bit more firmly. He shifted but he didn’t wake. She slowly and carefully turned him completely over and tied his wrists together, looping them over and over again until she felt satisfied. As she did this, she noticed that he had a scabbard hanging off of a belt around his waist. She stared at it with increasing curiosity. 

When she was done tying his hands, she reached out and very carefully took hold of the hilt of the sword. She tugged the handle slightly and two inches of metal steel slid out, blinking in the light. She stared at it  with shock.

What was this guy doing with a leather water pouch, a horse, and a sword in the middle of the woods? Cosplaying medieval life? Attending a renaissance festival? LARPing?

She took the sword out completely, lifting it from his person with ultimate caution to avoid waking him. He did not, thankfully, and she stepped away with the blade. It was big yet surprisingly light. She touched her fingers to the edge and hissed as it sliced her finger pad slightly. Tiny beads of blood trickled out from the cut. 

She was immediately reminded of her leg…

She dropped the sword on the other side of the fire away from the man. She walked to his pack again. He had no other weapons in his bag. There was really nothing besides clothing, some jars and bottles of liquid, a bottle that looked and smelled like booze, yet no lighter in sight. 

She pulled out a smaller bag from the main one and opened it up. It contained some items she did not recognize and some she did. There was a pipe, a set of cutlery, a gray block and some other strange tools. She also found a dark rock, jagged and a little shiney. She had a hunch what it was… despite having never seen such a thing in real life. She picked it up and grabbed the sword, she struck the rock against the steel and was rewarded with sparks.

“ Alhamdulillah ” She muttered, standing and walking around the campfire carefully. She started gathering some leaves, twigs and other flammable objects. When she felt like she had a good amount, plus some larger pieces to burn she went back to the coals of the fire and started building over the embers. 

When she was content with the structure and the tinder placed inside, she struck the rock over the bundle. It took a few good hits before she saw some sparks land in the tinder and start to flame to life. She nursed the baby flames, blowing over the embers to help heat the tinder, until it grew to a decent size and easily took over the larger pieces of wood. 

She sighed and leaned back finally, thinking about the next step. She needed to dig the bullet out… 

She looked at the sky. The sun was getting low. She had to do this while the light was good and then maybe she could think of saddling the horse and getting away from there.

 She looked at the man, still silent. She hoped he stayed unconscious until she could make her get away but she really doubted it. 

Her pack with all her medical equipment was nowhere to be found but she often carried extra of the necessities in her various pockets. Amongst some loose packets of acetaminophen- which she immediately swallowed - she pulled free a roll of gauze, a tourniquet and some alcohol swabs. She set it all besides the fire on top of the sleeping matt.

She shuffled to the stream and washed her hands to the best of her ability. As she did she examined the ring encasing her right thumb. A great sense of unease overwhelmed her as she stared at it. She paused momentarily to take it in. 

It was a pretty gem, make no mistake. She loved a nice ruby as much as the next person but for Galadion to have given it to her and then for her to be here now… It all felt too connected.

Cairo suddenly remembered something he had said to her in the cell.

“You are not meant to be here… and it is my time to move on. I must give you something before we part ways.”

She took a deep shuddering breath. For some reason, It had sounded way less ominous when he first said it. They were captured, she knew she wasn't supposed to be there and he seemed pretty intent on leaving too. She hadnt blinked twice at his phrasing but now she remembered how he insisted she take the ring, and how unphased he was by the insurgents scrambling to clear base and leave no evidence behind. 

Why had he given this to her? Why was he so insistent that she have it? Where was he now? Did he plan this? Did he know she’d end up here? 

Cairo realized she had begun to shake and shook her head to clear the anxious thoughts. Her most pressing concern was the pain in her leg and She took some deep breaths, temporarily shoving aside the thoughts of Galadion. 

She looked down at the ring one last time. She gripped it with her left hand and slid it off her thumb. She tugged her dog tags out from underneath her shirt and vest. She unclipped the chain and slid the ring over it, dipping it once more beneath her shirt. The pieces of metal rested against her chest and there they would stay until she thought of what to do with it. 

She shifted where she knelt and felt a pain in her thigh again. She braced her spine, her nerves and her strength, standing once more to walk to the fire. She glanced at the man once and found him exactly where she left him. His breathing was steady, slow and consistent, so she walked past and sat across the fire, facing it and watching him from her peripheral vision.

She sucked in a breath and took out her swiss army knife once more. She place it in the fire so that the knifes blade was touching red flame while it's body sat precariously on the edge of a log. She watched the flames flicker off the metal blade, the light bouncing off the inscription on the handle.

Septum Fidelis. Always faithful.

“It's a way of life, habibi,” Her father told her as he stood in front of her, sending her off for her first tour. He held her nephews hand with one, the other holding out the swiss army knife for her to take, “It was mine when I first enlisted and I want you to have it now. Inshallah, May it serve you well .”

She removed her vest and her heavy pants, dropping them besides the fire. She was left in her biker shorts and the company standard long sleeved overshirt. Her whole uniform was in rough shape, but especially her pants. 

She grabbed the tourniquet and placed it over the top of her thigh, twisting until she felt it cut off the circulation in her leg and then twisting even more. She grabbed the water skin and poured a bit over the wound, it washed away a bit of the debris and grime and left her staring at a fresh and ugly scab on the back of her leg, where the bullet entered. She followed the trajectory of the bullet with her fingers, pushing slightly into her leg until she winced, finding a mass of metal below her skin. 

She grit her teeth. The bullet had curved in the flesh of her thigh, torn through the outside muscle and was sitting in the front of her leg. She was incredibly lucky it hadnt hit anything important on the way in, but it had traveled about 4 inches and had probably only another half inch left to go before it exited. 

She’d have to clear the way for that last inch. 

The thigh is a tender place to dig if you had no idea what you were doing. She was thankful to have extensive education and training with surgeries without which she could easily kill herself. All she had was her knife and some alcohol swabs. No morphine. No assistance. No blood bags waiting to replace what she lost… and she had already lost a few cups.

“Alright, Haydar, make this fast. Too much bleeding, the body goes into shock, and then it's lights out. Clean, wrap, pray the infection away.” She whispered to herself, hands framing the skin closest to the bullet. 

She pulled her knife out of the embers and picked the tweezers out of the swiss army knife’s body, placing the tiny metal just barely in the flames. She looked down at her leg. 

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, imaging this wasn't herself but a fellow operative she was working on. When she opened them again she was in full medic mode. She made the first incision and bit back her wince.

The cutting took a simple minute but the deeper she went the more her body protested with seizing and shaking. Her breathing was starting to come rapidly, despite her attempts to control it. Blood was pouring from the wound and dripping down her thigh, she mentally called for a nurse to sop it up but knew that no one was coming to assist her in her auto-surgery. Every dig of the knife was feeling like torture but she ignored it as much as possible, that is until she felt the knife nudge something firm. The Bullet.

The smallest touch of the two metals sent pain shooting through her. She sucked in a breath and held it, this next part would hurt worse. She removed the metal tweezers from the fire and perched her knife carefully over her leg, she grabbed the water skin and poured it over both tools and her leg until every dro was gone and the blood washed away into pink rivers on the ground below her. The nose of the bullet stared up at her. It taunted her. She needed to finish this quickly.

She took a deep breath, and slowly went back in with both tools. She hissed as the tweezers entered the wound. They were small and did not have a lot of grip to them but with the knife guiding it, she got them surrounding the bullet and squeezed with all her strength to grip it. 

She wiggled the blade around the bullet on all sides, carefully separating the flesh from the metal as much as possible and wiggling the bullet carefully as she pulled. The wound had swollen over time to prevent bleeding and while she was thankful for her body's natural defense mechanisms it made her task even harder. 

Ever so carefully, she slid the bullet from it's hiding place and past her skin. When it finally left her body she felt a wheeze of relief leave her lungs. She hadn't realize how badly her palms were sweating or her eyesight was spinning until she blinked back the black spots and saw the cursed metal projectile completely leave her body.

She wanted to throw it as far from her as possible but only managed to drop it into the grass along with her tools before she quickly took to cleaning her bleeding leg. She took the alcohol wipes and hissed in pain as she wiped the exit wound as thoroughly as possible, then wrapping it tightly in the gauze. She hissed and cursed all the while, finally letting herself feel the pain of the urgery. The adrenaline had done a good enough job while she was performing her own surgery but as it faded so did her tolerance for pain.

She left the tourniquet where it was and grabbed her pants too, ripping another long strip from around the bottom to tie over the bandages. She tightened it as much as possible and then placed her hands over it. She pressed onto the wound with both hands and prayed to Allah to keep her from getting an infection, at least until he could send her help.

“I'm impressed.”

She jumped, though in reality she hardly moved, and looked up to see the man was sitting up, cross-legged and staring at her. His hands were still behind his back and his face was perplexed yet sympathetic, as if he pitied her pain. 

“Who are you?” She demanded, her tone firm despite her voice being small and weak from exhaustion. She braced herself, sitting taller and looked directly in his eyes. She slid the knife back into her hands, bloodied blade pointed forwards. 

“I'm a ranger of the north,” He replied easily, his tone was steady and his eyes were earnest as he looked at her, “I mean no ill-will, milady, and I certainly don't wish to harm you. It seems as if you’ve been injured… I could help, if you wish.”

Cairo raised an eyebrow. His voice was smooth but accented, and he was speaking English but his manner of speech was strange. She wondered where he was from and why she seemed like the type to be called “lady”.

“Okay… but who are you?” She demanded

“Most men know me as Strider… though i’ve gone by other names.” He said cryptically. 

Strider is a strange name, she thought, Probably a code name considering the way he alluded to others. Was he secret services? Special Ops?

“May I know your name?” He inquired, tilting his head slighlty.

She looked at him for a moment. She could easily give him a fake name, if not nothing at all… maybe even let him stew in silence for a moment. Yet after another pause, she was compelled to speak and the truth was the only thing she could think of.

“It’s Cairo Haydar,” She said at last, feeling shook by the rawness now creeping up inside her. This felt like deja-vu…. Where was Galadion? Where was her troupe?

“Where am i?” She asked suddenly as her feelings had begun to bubble up in her chest like a volcano. She cleared her throat and tried again, this time adopting an air of stoic professionalism, “What's our coordinates?”

The man examined her closely. His eyes seemed to catch every odd twitch, every uncertain glance around them. It was like he saw right through her. It was unnerving. 

“A day from Sarn Ford, as the crow flies,” he answered easily

Who says “as the crow flies?” She thought to herself.

“If you release me, I can make us both some supper. You seem as if you sorely need it,” He offered softly, glancing at her leg, “I even have a poultice that may soothe your wound, and spare bandages.”

“I'm good, thanks. I want to know how I got here. Are you with the Mujahideen?” She asked, shifting how she sat and blinking the black spots from her vision once more, “Are you CIA? MI6? ASIS? Was this a rescue or am I supposed to be your hostage?”

The man blinked, cocking his head slightly.

“I'm not familiar with those names,” He admitted, “And its not my intent to keep you anywhere against your will, milday. You are safe from me. I found you lying besides the river when dawn came. I woke up to break camp when i found you there. You have been asleep most of the morning and still you may rest if you so desire.” 

She did her best to mask her confusion. Her body was decisively settling into pain and exhaustion now. She could feel herself slightly shaking where she sat. Her palms had started to sweat too and her head was dizzy.

Cairo frowned and grabbed her knife and the tweezers, wiping them off on her shirt sleeve and placing them back into their compartments. “I don't know who you are or who sent you but you obviously think i'm an idiot. Why don't you sit there until your buddies come rescue you and I find civilization on my own, mkay?”

“My lady-”

“Not your lady, mister,” She bit back, grabbing her pants and shifting her legs back into them, shuffling them up and over her hips. 

“Miss Cairo… I'm sorry to have offended you. I am not trying to deceive you,” The man said, shifting his legs underneath him seamlessly so he was kneeling now. 

Cairo jolted when he moved, reached down besides her and grabbing the sword. She pointed it towards him, extending her arm and the blade as far as it could go. 

“Stay. right. there. Any closer and I will kill you,” She promised and the man nodded once in acquiescence. His eyes glanced at the blade before looking back up at her.

She mentally cursed herself for not tying his legs. He could easily stand up and strike her if he wished but he stayed on his knees and looked up at her with the same steady gaze. She shuffled sideways, making to walk towards the horse.

“I don't wish to fight you. I only wish to help,” He explained, looking at her earnestly with sea-green eyes, “Your leg has not stopped bleeding. I fear it will soon grow dire without a proper stitch.”

She glanced down at her leg briefly and saw it had started to bleed through the clothes she wrapped around it. She cursed under her breath and looked back up at him.

“Why would I trust you?” She asked, already knowing there was no answer he would give that she would accept with complete faith. He paused for once, as if he also realized this, and then very carefully he raised his hands from behind his back. She jolted again, taking another big step towards the horse, holding the sword tighter despite her quaking muscles. Meanwhile, he stayed where he was.

“My true name is Aragorn, son of Arathorn and Gilraen,” he began with a heaviness in his tone, as if this information was deeply personal and important. There was silence between them for a moment where Cairo wondered if she should say something or not, but it passed and he continued, “I am adept at the healing arts. I was taught by the wisest and most skilled healer known to middle earth. Your wound needs attention and i can help. I will not harm you.” 

He watched her as she considered him. Her arm holding the sword was starting to ache from fatigue but still her rational mind was warning her not to drop her guard.

“ How can i trust you?” She asked, again searching for some dishonesty or villainous intent in his eyes. He met her gaze with a calm and steadfast conviction. 

“Do you have another option?” He replied, simple and unassuming. 

She thought about the horse. She thought about the unknown of the woods. She thought about her father…

She lowered the sword, the flat edge bouncing off her knee and inspiring a fresh flare of pain up her thigh. She planted the sword's point into the earth and carefully let herself slide to the ground. A deep, overwhelming exhaustion overcame her, her vision grew spotty.

He walked over to her slowly, with an almost exaggerated gate as if he was projecting his every movement for her benefit. He crouched beside her and she felt herself hold her breath. He glanced at her hand, still holding the sword, before glancing back at her leg. 

“We shall stitch the wound. I have a needle and thread, though they should be cleaned first,” he told her and immediately set to work, moving swiftly to the saddle bag and opening it up. She watched as he spoke and moved with complete confidence.

He pulled out a smaller pack from the first and a small metal pot with a long handle. He walked to the stream and filled the pot before placing it besides the fire. She watched as he walked amongst the trees for a moment, collecting sticks and breaking them into smaller pieces. All these he threw on the fire and eventually set the pot on top of the pile of burning wood. Cairo watched as he nursed the tiny flames she used for her surgery into a crackling bonfire.

Next, he did as she did, walking to the stream and washing his hands, this time he took a square of wax paper with him. It was soap. She could tell by the waso wished she had checked his things herself because maybe then she couldve washed her hand and wound better. 

She studied his frame, his face and his attire as he crouched by the stream. He was not a slight figure. Everything from the way he carried himself y he lathered his hands. She silently thanked him for doing it so thoroughly but alsuggested an experienced fighter and an adept outdoorsman. He wore cotton pants and a long-sleeved shirt, covered by another jacket type fabric then extended past his hips. He had worn leather boots over his feet and the belt that held his empty scabbard was made of a similar leather.

“Strider… or Ara- whatever you are called…” She called, and was met with an inquisitive eyes over his shoulder, “Who do you work for?”

“None, Milady... I am a free agent, a servant of peace.”

There was silence.

He stood and walked to where she sat again. She watched as he opened the small bag and pulled out a rag, of which inside was wrapped a bundle of herbs. He separated some leaves from this plant and put it into the pot. She eyed it cautiously. 

“What's that?”

He looked up, reaching out his hand so she could see the plant clearer, “Athelas, also known as Kingsfoil, it's a medicinal herb though it's properties are less commonly appreciated.”

He tore off a piece of the plant's leaves and held it up before placing it in his mouth and chewing. She would have scoffed at the performative display if it hadn't succeeded at easing her worry a bit. He wrapped the rest of the plant in the cloth once more and put it back in the bag, coming out again with a spool of tiny thread and a needle. 

She watched and then carefully shuffled out of her pants once more. She pulled them completely off her ankles just to be safe, not knowing if she would need to jump up and make a quick get away. 

He carefully unwound the thread from the spool. He glanced up at her and looked pointedly at her hand, where she was once more gripping her swiss army knife. She hadn't realized she had taken it from her pocket but it made sense for her to reach for it now. 

“Would you please snip this thread?” He asked kindly and she nodded, she separated the scissors tool from the body of the knife and snipped the thread between his hands. He looked at the tool with some bewilderment but said nothing and instead focused on stringing the needle. 

“Where did you learn medicine?”

He glanced up at her, having strung the needle and started to dip it and the string through the water in the pot which was now at a slow boil. 

“Imladris,” He responded simply and she frowned

“I've never heard of it. What country?”

He shook his head, “tis an independent city. Hidden amongst the Misty Mountains. Men know it as Rivendell.”

She frowned. Rivendell? She racked her memory… It sounded familiar. Where had she heard that before?

He turned to his pack once more and she watched as he pulled out a long shirt that resembled a type of tunic. He tore from the bottom, ripping it into long shreds before dumping that too into the boiling water. 

When that was done he looked over at her and then at her leg. 

“I am going to begin now.”

She shuffled where she sat so she was more comfortable and nodded, her hands tightening around her knife tighter. She held it for comfort. The familiar inscription on the side dug into her palm, probably leaving it's imprint in her skin. He noticed her tension and eyed the tool, despite none of the sharp mechanisms being pointed towards him he seemed wary of it.

“Can I rely on you to keep still?” He asked and she scoffed at him. 

“I’ve had worse than stitches. I promise not to throw a tantrum,” She responded

He nodded, “Fair enough, Milday. I beg you forgive my caution. I merely remember you feeling quite disturbed about being awoken just this morn.”

She blinked at him in surprise. Did he just sass her? She opened her mouth to respond but his hands had started to undo the bandages around her leg and her nerves forced her jaw to shut again.

“This contraption is depriving your leg of blood,” he noticed curiously, gesturing to the tourniquet around her leg. She nodded.

“Thats the idea. I’d hate to hemorrhage in the middle of nowhere,” She responded. He frowned, taking the pot from the fire and placing it on the ground. 

“I don't not know that word ‘hemorrhage’.“ He pulled away the rest of the bandages.

“Hemorrhage is when blood goes where it's not supposed to, specifically outside of the veins, arteries, or organs…” She supplied helpfully, thinking he was probably foreign enough to not know the English medical jargon, “Where did you go to school again?”

He hummed, and reached into the pot, not flinching from the hot water as he ripped off a strip of cloth from the rest and began to wipe at her wound with gentle sweeps. 

“Nay, my lady, I did not learn healing from a school. Just a teacher,” He responded,

She guffawed. A non-medical professional was working on her leg right now. She grit her teeth as the cloth dragged over the open wound, irritating the raw skin.

“Cool,” She responded through grit teeth and then promptly shut up. 

The wound was bleeding slowly. She could tell the flesh around the incision has already swollen, looking puffy and raw. Her body was doing it's best to close on it's own. In her mind, she imagined she was staring at a patients chart, anticipating the healing process. It would likely take a month or two close completely and even more to get her muscle strength back

He put the clothe, now stained with blood, aside and retrieved the needle and string from the pot. He glanced up to meet her eyes. She looked back and bit the inside of her cheek before nodding. 

“It helps some not to look. You could count the leaves on the trees if you wish… or the birds that fly past,” He suggested as he pressed the skin together and mapped out his stitching. 

“No, thanks,” She muttered back and he nodded once, then said nothing more. 

He began with a simple stitch at the very bottom. She wanted to cuss as the needle entered and exited the first side of the incisions and then the other side. 

The first stitch is always the worst , she told herself, but was quickly proven wrong by her own theory when the next stitch, and then the one after that, was equally, if not even more, agonizing than the first. 

He stitched carefully, with gentle fingers against her skin but sure movements with the needle. He pulled the skin together and did not slow or stop despite her mental stream of expletives quickly becoming a verbal monologue. She cussed in English and then Arabic, letting the trees and God know her displeasure with her current circumstances. All she got back was more rustling leaves and sun shining on her sweaty brow.

The man had started to hum about halfway through his work. Gradually, his volume rose until he spoke in low, lilting words. It was a language she did not recognize but she eventually swallowed her creative curses to focus closer on his song. The language was soft and soothing with emphasized l’s, s’s and n’s. It was a romantic language, she wouldve thought it had literally originated from Latin but it was too different from any romance language she knew. 

She was still listening intently when he had finished and she hadnt realized until he was knotting the last stitch. It felt like a warm blanket had just been placed over her mind and body. The feeling numbed the pain and distracted her, resembling the feeling of some very strong painkillers. She was almost relaxed .

“What language is that?” She asked, watching as he worked to clean her leg. She stared at his work as he did. The stitches were clean and neat. She was impressed. He reached over to his bag and pulled out a jar, he opened it up and held it out to her. She took it, warily and looked inside. It was just a paste… but it smelled strong like herbs… kind of like Vicks, “Whats this?”

“That is a salve, it will help your wound if you allow it. And the language is Sindarin, the language of the Sindar. That was the hymn to Varda, Queen of the Stars,” He responded easily and began to pack the rest of the things. She sniffed the salve one more before nodding and handing it back to him. He applied it liberally to her wound again before wrapping it with the rest of the boiled and wrung-out cloth.

“It's a pretty language,” She admitted and looked him over once more. She couldn't tell if he was a native english speaker or not, though he spoke it pretty well. She abandoned propriety to ask, “Where are you from?”

“I was born in Imladris… I spent the beginning of my life there. I’ve lived amongst men for the past few decades.” He admitted and she raised an eyebrow, looking him over again. He said decades as if it was so many years but he did not look a day over 30 so it must have been one 5wwwtwo at most.

He glanced up at her and back at the tourniquet, “how long must you wear this contraption?”

“I should take it off in an hour or so…” She answered, looking down at her leg and then back at him. She wasn't about to share exactly how uncomfortable the tourniquet was but she knew the longest she could go with wearing it was probably an hour and a half so she had time. 

“Whats your nationality?” She asked as she sat upright, her mind finding sharpness again and her awareness of her present circumstances returning. Her body continued to feel excessively exhausted however and she knew it was probably related to the blood loss. 

“You seem intent on discovering to which borders or brethren I belong to,” He glanced up at her before standing and putting his pack away. She noticed how he left his sword by her side and turned his back to her. If this was intentional, then he was definitely trying to get her to trust him. If it was unintentional, then he was pretty stupid. 

“Just trying to get to know the man who I miraculously met in the woods in a place i’d never seen before,” She explained, trying to keep the suspicion out of her tone. She knew she didnt succeed when he turned to her, this time carrying his own curious look,

“Does it frustrate you to know there is none?”

“None what? borders or brethren?” She asked and he hummed

“At the moment, Neither.”

She huffed, “Well then yes, it does bother me because we’re at war and i’d like to know if you're a friend or an enemy.”

His eyes glimmered as he stared at her, the corners of his lips pulled into a wry grin, “Would an enemy stitch your leg and forgive your assault of him?”

“A wolf would wear sheepskin if it meant he could eat a whole flock,” She responded and the man nodded, walked away from the pack to sit in front of her once more, now a bit farther than a leg's length away. In his hands, he held a few strips of dried meat and an apple. 

“You are wise to think so. Many a wolf hides amongst these sheep but i am not one of them. Indeed, Rangers of the Dunedain are more akin to shepherds… when we can be,” he explained, taking the apple in both hands and splitting it in half. He threw one half at her which she caught. He took a strip of jerky then and bit into it. He then held out a strip for her. She considered before nodding and he tossed that too. 

“What are the Dunedain?” She asked, biting first into the apple. It was sweet and tart. She quickly took another bite as her stomach gurgled with pleasure at receiving a meal. She hadn't realized how hungry she had been. 

He looked up at her, questioning eyes examining hers. She looked back with all seriousness. 

“Surely you know of the Numenoreans?” He asked and she shook her head. He seemed perplexed by this. 

“It is a long… complicated history. But they were once a great people, strong and proud… and when they were exiled to these lands they founded two great divisions. One of which is The Dunedain of Arnor, which I and my brothers in arms are direct descendants of.” He explained and Cairo listened with increasing curiosity. She had never heard any of this before. 

“And you're a ranger? Like in a park or…?” She asked, chewing on the jerky next. It was bland but it did the job and she had eaten a lot worse army meals before.

“Aye, I am a ranger,” he nodded, “I’ve traveled all throughout middle earth. We are a nomadic people though most prefer to walk the same paths that their ancestors have for generations. The rangers of the north trace the ruins of Eriador in our routes and we guard the remaining peoples against any attacks from the enemy, often staving off trouble that might be stirring in near and distant lands.”

She was once again struck by how strangely he spoke. It reminded her of Galadion a bit. She wondered if they knew each other but resisted asking. She needed to know him better before potentially revealing her encounter with the blonde and the treasure he had given to her.

“Why were the Numenoreans exiled?” She asked instead, finishing the last of her jerky and brushing her hands of crumbs.

Aragorn looked at her, as if perplexed by her questions. She was starting to believe that this was all common knowledge where he was from but resisted feeling embarrassed by her own ignorance, “They faced apocalypse. It was either stay in their homes and drown, or find new lands elsewhere.”

She paused and soaked this in. Aragorns ancestors were refugees and he was a nomad… 

“Do you know how far from Iraq we are?” She asked suddenly, hoping someone well traveled like him would be able to tell.

He frowned and shook his head, “I'm not familiar with any such place.”

She sighed. 

“Do you have a phone or radio?”

He frowned again and shook his head. 

“Where is the closest civilization?”

“I shall answer your questions…” he replied after a moment, “but I must ask one of my own.”

She nodded, her heart beginning to accelerate with nervousness. 

“Okay, shoot.”

“... I will not fire any weapon right now.”

“No i mean… go ahead,” She gestured with her hand for him to keep talking. He gave her a peculiar glance before continuing.

“What is a woman doing alone, unarmed- save for a small blade- and a days ride from any town with no mount, food, nor water?” He asked

“A days ride ?” She asked, glancing once more at the horse roaming the clearing, eating grass. She looked back at him and saw he was patiently awaiting an answer. 

She swallowed hard. 

“I have no idea… and that's exactly what i'm trying to figure out.”

It was silent. Aragorn got up and dumped the old water from the pot before washing it and refilling it from the stream, setting it to boil once more. He worked in silence and Cairo watched, fighting off the tiredness seeping into her bones to think and keep an eye on this stranger.

The sun had started to slip behind the woodland treeline and the shadows surrounding them grew longer. It would be completely dark soon and any escape Cairo was hoping to make would certainly take longer and be more dangerous. She had to make a plan. 

As she contemplated her options, Aragorn spoke up once more.

“These woods I know better than any. We are not far from a civilization of men but I fear your ability to thrive there with no material objects or company. I can take you to true safety if that is what you desire, for my destination is Imladris, or Rivendell as it is known. There is nowhere safer. There you will find great care taken for your wound and your… situation.”

Cairo froze for a moment as something familiar awoke in her brain. She knew that name like how you knew an old bed time story. It was a familiar, even nostalgic, memory. One connected to stories that she had mostly forgotten in her adulthood, but cherished during her childhood.

“I'm…” she paused and cleared her throat, “I know that name but this must be- Is it a codename for a base?”

Aragorn raised an eyebrow at her, “It is no code nor a moniker, merely a secret location, known only to friends of peace. I would escort you to safety at which point we will split ways. I am expected elsewhere rather soon…”

Caro considered this, feeling a growing sense of dread. She didn’t seem to really have a choice. The more she considered the options the more she realized she was better off accepting the offer of this stranger than braving the wilderness alone. 

Aragorn seemed to pick up on her hesitancy and endeavored to speak again, this time with a grave conviction, “I swear on my mothers grave nothing shall harm while you choose to travel with me.”

As she thought about it a warmth had started to grow in her chest where initially there was anxiety. It resembled a heat flash, something that often came during moments of stress. Yet  as the sensation strengthened, her stress seemed to lessen. Instead, she felt emboldened with her decision. 

She looked up at Aragorn and met his gaze. She studied his expression, finding only steadfast sincerity and stoic calmness.

“Okay,” She finally said and he nodded back at her, recognizing her decision.

“Very well. We leave tomorrow,” he said and nodded towards the mat rolled out besides the fire, “You may rest. You shall need it.”

She was already sinking where she stood, so she shuffled a few feet over to the mat and laid down, her right leg bent, elevated upwards to discourage blood flow. Meanwhile the mat she layed on smelled like campfire, horses, and a third thing she did not recognize yet carried a hint of mint.

“Alright but if I fall asleep please wake me. I have to take this off in an hour,” She told him, gesturing to the tourniquet on her leg.

“Do you swear not to strike me if I wake you?” He asked cheekily and she shot him a look.

“Hardy har. I promise as long as you promise not to try some shady shit in my sleep,” She told him and he nodded, placing a hand over his heart.

“I wouldn’t dare, my lady, I swear upon my honor,” He vowed seriously and she eyed him a second longer than normal. He was so serious… she wanted to trust him. She shook her head slightly and layed down.

“Not your lady, mister,” She replied but was met with silence. 

She looked up at the sky. She counted three birds flying above her before her fatigue started to really sink in. She fought it at first, eyes blinking open whenever they would drift shut. Her hand still gripped her swiss army knife, her thumb had started to trace the engraving in repetitive motions. It was all lulling her to sleep. The extreme loss of blood and bodily trauma undoubtedly contributing to her low energy. 

“All is well, Miss Cairo,” she heard form the man as he sat besides the fire and poked it's burning logs. Embers flew up into the evening sky and faded before her eyes. He started to hum again and she couldn't help but close her eyes and let out a deep exhale. She was so tired. And there was something about his voice…

She couldn't even finish the thought before sleep took over her, this time walking in like an old friend, embracing her until her senses dulled and her breathing became slow. 

She wanted to open her eyes one more time, just to see those sea-green eyes again and find the flecks of gold. But she was so tired she couldn't even finish the thought before sleep took her again, this time walking in like an old friend, embracing her until her senses dulled and her breath became natural and slow.

Chapter Text

TW- GROSS

“Medic!”

Cairo looked up. She was kneeling over a wounded soldier. A huge crevice where their sternum should be was empty, their intestines spilling out from their chest. All she had with her was a house needle and a spool of thread. 

“One minute!” she yelled over her shoulder and turned back to her task. She was trying to thread the needle but was failing miserably. Her hands were shaking and the eye of the needle was so small. She exhaled harshly, took a deep breath and tried again.

“Medic now!”

“Gimme one second!” She yelled, doubling down on her task. The more she focused though the more she failed, her vision was swimming, she was seeing double. Her hands looked like blurry oven mitts holding this ridiculously small needle. She looked down at the person in front of her. Green army camo, bloody gaping wound, organs on full display. She swallowed, biting the side of her cheek to quell the impulse to gag.

“You’re going to be okay. I'm here.”

“Wheres the Medic?! We need help asap!”

Cairo nearly screamed in frustration as the needle slipped through her fingers and fell in the bloody pool around her knees. The blood was bright red and soaking her pants. She scrambled to find it.

“Oh god, oh god…” she mumbled, hands dragging through the blood to find the metal needle. The red blood clung to her hands, staining it a bright red. “Shit... bitch.. fuck!”

“Here.”

She looked up and saw the person with the giant hole in their chest sitting up, their hand reaching out to her holding a shiny metal needle. 

“Thank you! Ive been looking everywhere-“ She looked at their face and paused. They had twinkling green eyes with specks of gold set against dark eyebrows.

“Of course, Milady.”

As her hand fully grasped the needle, she looked down to see it already threaded. She looked up again and found the man was gone. She looked around, turning over both her shoulders but saw nothing for miles. He had disappeared with no trace that he had been there or had even been injured to begin with.

"Caw!"

She jumped and looked down.  A raven sat on the ground in fornt of her, where he once was, looking up at her with a cold, beady side-eye. 

“Where's the blood?” she asked. The raven only blinked at her. 

“Someone was calling for me. Where did they go?”

She looked around but saw no one and nothing. She was surrounded by a white blankness in every direction.

“Hello?” She called

“CAW!”

She jumped 

~ End of TW

Cairo woke suddenly.

Her eyes opened at the same time her body forced itself upright into a sitting position. Her hand flew to her chest, palm pressing over her pouding heart and pressing rigged metal into her skin. The slight pain was the proof she needed to confirm she was awake... that she was alive.

“Peace… All is well.”

She turned her head quickly, planting her hands and bending her legs to stand when a sharp pain in her leg reminded her why exactly that was a bad idea.

She hissed. Her right hand reached for her thigh, gripping right above where the bullet had been. A long wool cloak had slid off her when she sat up and she eyed the fabric. She recognized it from earlier.

“Slow… take care with yourself,” came the voice again. She looked up slowly this time and found the source of the voice belonging to the scrappy, long-haired man. He was standing besides his horse a few paces from her left, combing its hair with a brush and gentle fingers. Cairo’s memories from yesterday returned.

“You …” she acknowledged, her voice froggy from sleep. She sat the rest of the way up, this time moving slower. The discomfort in her leg barely faded as she straightened her leg once more.

“Me…” the man replied, his eyes twinkling softly with amusement, “How was your rest?”

She blinked and looked down at her sleeping spot. The blanket that was in her hands was actually a cloak and the pad she was laying on was thin but effective and softening the bumps and ridges of the hard ground. She felt well rested despite the dream...

The images were still fresh in her mind. The blood. The man with the needle. The crow. She could feel the stress that lingered in her body still.

“yeah… it was fine,” She pressed a hand to her chest again. The feeling of her dog tags skin comforted her, the added mass of the ring around the chain was a bittersweet reminder of the circumstances preceding her current situation. Her mind trailed to Galadion and where he was now...

Cairo dropped her hand and pulled the cloak from her legs entirely. Her knife was resting besides her hip, she wrapped her fingers around it and squeezed absentmindedly. She was still wearing her army cammies; gray shirt, shorts and regulation socks. White bandages stood out against the color scheme, wrapped around her thigh… She looked away.

To the side of the mat were her boots, vest and the tourniquet were resting. She definitely hadn't removed and folded those herself, nor did she remember taking off the tourniquet or shoes which means that he must've done it before covering her with the cloak.

Cairo glanced up. The mans eyes were steadily watching his own hands work at the horses mane. She felt torn between gratitude and unease at the kind gestures. She chose to ignore it and push forward.

“H-how did you sleep?” She asked, having to clear her parched throat.

“How… how did I get here?” She asked, clearing her throat after.

“I rested well, thank you, though I dared not sleep,” the man replied, glancing once at her to nod in her direction, “There is fresh water in the skin. The salve will help the pain.”

She only hesitated for a moment before reaching for the water.

“Thank you…” She spoke after taking a few quick gulps, placing the pouch back. Besides the water and her pile of clothes was a jar, a cup and a small pouch. She eyed the jar of paste, it was the same one he had used on her leg. She glanced at her leg and then away again, focusing on the man, “Didn’t sleep, huh? What are you scared of? the dark?”

“Not the dark itself but the things in these lands that hunt in the dark. Often their only restraint is a warm fire and watchful eyes,” the man replied easily and this time Cairo was decidedly disturbed. Whatever things he was talking about, however, he did not elaborate on, “I’d have us reach Sarn Ford before dark for that very reason. When you are ready, we will break camp.”

She took a deep breath and examined the scene around them. The morning was just breaking and though he claimed he hadnt slept, there was another spot across the fire from hers. A fabric rested on the ground that resembled the cloak except it was thinner, shaped more like a square and woven more like a quilt than anything.

“How far is Sarn Ford?”

“It is but a day's journey on foot. With Roheryn as your mount we shall make good time,” the man said conversationally. He had put aside the comb and begun to braid the horses hair with quick fingers, “The terrain is not difficult nor lengthy, but I would have us pause often to relieve your leg of the strain.”

She looked at her leg again as she digested that information. She had agreed to travel with this man- What was his name again? Strider? Aragorn?- because she knew it was her best chance at finding a doctor. But when she looked around the forest and imagine traversing through it she felt a sense of unease. 

She was brought from her thoughts by the persistent ache in her leg. It hurt enough that she couldn't ignore it any longer. Her anxiety was rising too at the thought of a potential infection.

Her fingers began to untie and unravel the bandages. When they completely came off she stared down at her stitches. The skin was red and inflamed around the rows. She sighed, that wasn’t a good sign. 

“You need not fear any irritation. The salve will seal the wound from infection. Itd be wise to apply it regularly until we reach Imladris. With any luck the stitches can be removed in a week or so,” the man replied, Cairo looks at him again. A week was a very ambitious timeline for stitches. She reminded herself that he had not attended a school and glanced at the salve again. 

I should definitely see a professional as soon as possible, She thought. 

“Do you have any soap?” She asked, looking over at the stream of water and back, “I'd like to wash my hands.”

The man nodded and stepped to the saddle bag that was resting besides the horse. It looked as if he had packed everything except the essentials for the journey.

He walked over to where she sat. She noticed how slowly he moved, as if he had all the time in the world or… as if he was trying not to spook her. She did not know whether to be thankful or insulted that he treated her like a feral animal, ready to pounce if he looked at her the wrong way. She also couldn't blame him. 

She eyed his forehead as he stooped down beside her mat. His forehead had no cut or bruise that she could see and definitely didnt seem concussed. 

When he crouched down besides her, her hands started to undo the bandages around her thigh. One of his hands held out the bar of soap she saw him use before. His other hand held a humble offering of dried jerky on a white cloth.

“Thank you…” She said, placing the jerky besides her before reaching out to grab the soap. He waited for her to take both before turning towards the fire and the pot of water sitting in it's low flames that she hadnt realized he set to boil. She glanced up at him again for a moment while he worked, seeing his eyes once more watching his hands. 

“You’re welcome, Milady-”

“It's Cairo. Just Cairo, thank you.” She interrupted, opening the skin of water pouring it over her hands, “and should I call you, Thorngil? Or Aragorn?”

He paused for a brief moment, before continuing to reach out and take the pot off the flames, setting it on the ground besides the fire. She lathered her hands with the soap. He cleared his throat. 

“... you may call me either. Though, Strider is how i'm known to the people of Eriador.”

She nodded and poured water over her hands once more to rinse them thoroughly. 

He opened a bag that was left next to the stones and opened it up, turning to hold it out to her. 

“Smell this,” He said, offering it with a tone that let her know she could easily refuse. However there was something about the way his eyes that left her curious… curious enough to reach out and grab it, raising it to her nose and taking a brief whiff. 

“It smells like lavender,” she admitted, handing it back. She noticed how his eyes brightened, showing a smile without his lips moving an inch. 

“It is… amongst other herbs. It's a tea. I was going to make us some if you’d like,” he went about preparing the beverage. She noticed he only had the one cup but he didn’t comment on it so neither did she. 

“Okay, Strider.” She replied easily and reached for the jar next, “...why did I need to smell it?”

“So you wouldn’t think it poisoned,” He replied smoothly and she paused, looking at him with mild surprise.

“I dont. I'm sure if you wanted to kill me, you would’ve by now,” She remarked and he looked back at her, eyes glancing briefly at her leg before swiftly returning back to her, his expression unreadable. 

“... Indeed,” he replied, turning back to his hands.

It was silent for a moment before she decided to speak again.

“Do you have any clean bandages?” 

Strider shook his head, “Nay but there will be fresh bandages- and fresh meat- at our waypoint.”

She nodded, “Which is… Sarn Ford?”

“Aye,” he nodded and turned, placing the cup of tea an arms reach from her. It was still steaming. She glanced at it and then back at him. He turned and dumped the rest of the water on the fire. It was partially doused but not entirely. He stood and took the pot with him, walking around the fire towards the stream. He dipped the pot in the stream and let the water cool it down. When he was satisfied he stood once more and walked to the horse, taking the quilt from the ground as he did so. 

 Cairo turned back to her leg as he worked. She couldn't ignore it any longer so she scooped a finger's worth of salve onto her pointer finger and began to spread it over the raised stitches. She turned her leg to the side and did the same over the scab. It was a gnarly looking thing, large and thick and a deep red color. She was careful not to disturb it too much, knowing a broken scar was a breeding ground for infection. When she was done dressing the wound she retired it with the bandages then closed the jar and set it aside. 

She took a moment to look at her surroundings. Brown trees, green leaves and roaming clouds. Tweeting birds and a warm but pleasant autumn breeze in the air. It pleasant but a reminder of how far she must be from the hot, sandy deserts of Iraq.

“Where did you say we are again?” She asked. 

“Days ride from Sarn Ford,” He answered simply from over his shoulder as he placed the blanket over the horses back, followed by the saddle.

She nearly rolled her eyes. He had said that yes, but she needed more information.. She had no idea where Sarn Ford is. It wasn't the name of any base she knew of. She silently wondered if it was a city she hadn’t heard of or maybe a codename for a base.

“And where is that?” She pried.

“South-west Eriador,” He answered. 

He had mentioned that too… but where the fuck is Eriador? She thought

“Eriador… are you very familiar with it?” She asked tentatively, hoping it came across less interrogative than it sounded to her own ears. 

He looked up at her and his eyes bounced between her own, taking in her expression. It felt like he was looking directly into her soul. She didn’t like it.

 “Ay… I’m familiar. I’ve traversed Eriador many times over,” he answered after a moment of studying her. Then he added, “Sarn Ford is a crossing of the Baranduin river. It was once an abundant fortress. None occupy it now… except for the occasional group of rangers. It was my intention to stay with them a few nights, but I fear your wound and my schedule would not allow such a delay. We may merely rest within their walls before continuing onwards.” 

Cairo blinked at this. That was information she didn’t really know what to do with it so she said nothing. She would have to figure out their location in relation to her own knowledge some other way. 

She pondered for a moment on wether her troupe had made it back to the main encampment. She worried after Captain Taylor and his wound. She worried about the men and women that had died or been injured after that last battle. How many of them had made it out?

“Here…”

She looked up, startled once more to see Strider crouching besides her. How did he do that? He was holding the cup full of tea. He made a point of blowing on it and taking a sip. She took that change to study his face a bit closer as he did it.

He was… handsome yet ruggish. The latter was clearly a result of one too many nights on the road without a shower. Beneath it though, he had a pleasant face which when connected with the way he carried himself in his walk and his manner of speech, came off as strong and proud, yet gentle.

Green eyes glanced up at her, catching her gaze. He blinked once before taking another sip. She looked away.

“If you have any questions, I’d be happy to answer them… to the best of my knowledge,” He provided and Cairo nodded, considering carefully 

“Where is Sarn Ford in relation to Iraq?” She asked finally, looking back at him.

The man hummed.

“One moment…” he said, instead of answering immediately and offered the cup. She accepted, watching as he rose and headed towards his pack. The cup was hot but not too hot. Tiny leaves were floating in the water, turning it a dark green color.

Strider dug around in the pack until he came up with a roll of paper. He carried it back to her, sitting down closer than he had before to show its contents. He unrolled the parchment and upon it Cairo could see a map. She straightened and leaned over to look closer, careful to balance the tea in her hands. He noticed and held out his hand, she placed the cup back in it and felt his fingers brush against hers. 

She looked down at the map. It looked nothing like any geography she had ever seen before.

“I’ve never seen a map like this before…” She muttered, an anxious feeling rising within her. If they weren't near anywhere she knew… than she was probably much farther from Iraq than she previously thought.

“We are around here,” he gestured where there was a brief expanse of forest and then a river that was titled ‘brandywine’ in tiny scrawl. To the farther east was a long mountain range that divided the land on the map from the far north till about the mid-south. 

“Here is where I came from,” he pointed towards the north- western coast, where upon sat a dot and a word scrawled in a language she couldn’t read. His finger trailed down, past the northernmost tip of the mountain range and along the eastern base of the mountains until he reached the southern tip, “I’ve been traveling south along the Blue Mountains before making my way up along the Brandywine River.” 

She looked all over the area he gestured but found no familiar landscapes or terrain. The river seemed to flow diagonally from north east to south west and it forked off into two separate rivers at one point. From what she could tell, everything surrounding their was all hills and forests and mountains.

“Where’s that ford you talked about?” She asked, now eager to find anything resembling civilization. There seemed to be some markings of towns farther north of their position. She wondered for a moment if it was worth travelling that way to find a doctor.

“Sarn Ford is here,” He pointed to a dot at the intersection of the river and what seemed to be a road. It was a bit upstream from their current position. She wasn’t a perfect judge of distance, but it seemed too far to walk in a day, especially on a bum leg. Frustration started to rise in her chest.

“This is insane,” She huffed.

He hummed, his eyes roaming her face once more, “You seem unfamiliar with the land.”

It wasn't a question but she answered anyways.

“Yeah, that’s probably because i've never been here before.” She chuckled sardonically, “I was surrounded by sand and rocks the day before yesterday and now there's only mountains, trees and rivers? I'm either amnesiac or this is a sick joke.”

“Do you hail from Haradwaith?” he asked and she frowned. People asking where shes from usually wasn’t in a nice way. He clarified, “I ask because your complexion resembles those of the Haradrim…” 

She tread carefully around the question, “Where is that?”

He pointed at the southern-most portion of the map.

“The Haradrim are natives of the Haradwaith. Some know them as the Southron, or the 'South-Multitude',” he answered, his tone was even and calm. 

“I’ve never heard of them,” She admitted, “My father is Egyptian. He was born and raised in Cairo before he emigrated to the United States.”

Strider hummed as he sipped the tea again.

“I must say I’ve never seen garb quite like yours, especially not from any Haradrim. Is it common amongst your people?”

“I could say the same to you,” She looked up at him, looking pointedly at his outfit and cloak and then back down at her clothes. 

“These are Cammies… standard, military uniform. Not exactly common except among the military,” She admitted, gesturing to her cargo pants and vest laying besides the mat, “The pants are desert camouflage. The vest is kevlar, its meant to protect the vital organs from damage…”

Her mind flashed images of a bloody stomach and intestines on full display. She closed her eyes and willed it away. 

“…Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t,” She added.

He nodded, though his curiosity did not seem completely satisfied, and held out the cup. She accepted it. His right hand brushed hers. She noticed a ring sitting over his thumb, it was made of silver metal in an intricate design and a green jewel beset in it.

She took a sip- it was delicious- and looked back at the map.

She glanced it all over, shaking her head slowly with confusion at how unfamiliar it seemed. But then her eyes caught a glimpse of the lands north to the “ Haradwaith ” he mentioned. The land was marked with dots and to the east, there sat a region almost entirely circled by mountains, all marked in plain English. 

“Gondor… Rohan… Mordor…” She read outloud, her eyes growing wide at the familiar names. She looked up at the stranger who was studying her again. She scoffed with disbelief.

“Is this a fake map?!” She asked incredulously.

He blinked at her, seemingly not expecting those words from her mouth, “My lady, this map is as real as I am sitting besides you.”

She placed the cup down and pushed herself to her feet, ignoring the ache in her thigh as she stood. Aragorn stood almost as quickly as she did, his hand hovering by her elbow. She jolted her arm away from him and stepped back.

“This cant be real…” She hissed, holding up the map. She turned and looked around the woods, hoping to spy a camera or something to give away that she was being pranked and watched, “What sort of bullshit prank is this?! Very Funny, Fargo but I’ve had enough! Nice try, Greer! Come on out!”

Only silence met her. Several moments passed where nothing happened. She spun around, confused as ever. She only found Aragorn staring at her, his eyes both concerned and skeptical, one of his hands gripped the handle of the sword attached to his belt. She shuffled on her feet, true fear starting to grip her stomach but not because of his weapon... because she now felt truly lost.

“To whom do you call, Milady?” He asked tentatively

She put her hands on her hips and huffed, masking her uncertainty with annoyance, “My troupe! This is a shitty joke, isnit?! I got injured, captured and the practical jokers want to tug my pigtails… It's not going to work, yknow, i'm too fucking grown for this shit!”

Aragorn stepped forward once and his grip on his sword eased slightly. His expression resembled genuine confusion again.

“I do not think this is a joke, mi-”

She threw him a glare.

“-Cairo…” he bowed his head slightly, acknowledging her wordless scold, “You appeared in my campsite yesterday and you were gravely injured. I have since scouted the area and i’ve found no trace of the troupe you are calling for. Nor has one arrived since you did.”

She paused, crossing her arms now. Her right leg was beginning to ache so she leaned on her left.

“Why does your map look like that then? And why do you talk like that? And why am i here? I'm supposed to be in Iraq… last time i checked Iraq doesnt anything like that!” She gestured broadly with the map in her fist and he himself glanced at it, as if to be sure it was there.

“I drew this map myself, several years ago. I am a ranger of these lands, a member of the Dunedains… once their chieftain if you'd believe it. None would know better than I how these lands have shifted and formed over the years,” Aragorns tone was steadfast, “As for my words… i believe i speak as strangely to you as you do to me. To your other question I do not have the answer.”

Cairo looked at him, looked at the paper, and then looked at him again.

“But…” She paused, shuffling before finding a sudden weakness in her legs. Her knee wobbled and Aragorn, noticing her weakness, was besides her in a moment.

“Shall we sit?” He asked, though it wasn't really a question and they did, both of them finding a seat on the mat again. When she was sat, he took the map from her hand and placed it besides them. She resisted none of this as her mind was too busy trying to piece together everything she knew to be true up until this point. She had been shot, that at least she knew was painfully real.

She had definitely met Galadion. She knew that because the evidence was pressing into her chest hanging from the silver chain around her neck. But after that a million question rose in her mind. Hadnt they been escaping together? Hadn't he been cutting her ropes when he gave her the ring? She remembered him talking and gun shots firing and people yelling, but nothing came after that… not until she was being woken up in the woods.

Cairo thought in silence for a little while, wondering for not the first time what the hell was going on? She started to wonder if the Iraqi forces were behind this, but then realized that there was no perceivable advantage to sending an enemy medical officer into the woods with a stranger and a strange map.

She questioned if Galadion had been behind this. If he had drugged her and left her in the forest. But why would he give her a precious gem and then disappear? Was he trying to frame her for something? Was he trying to send her somewhere and the transportation failed?

It was all so confusing. She couldn’t make any sense out of her being where she was on purpose…

Cairo took a deep breath and began to wonder if she ended up here by accident. Maybe she had wandered unconsciously from where she was being held hostage and she ended up meeting a innocent yet crazy person who had drawn a fictional map and was convinced it was real.

Cairos eyes raised to see the man watching her, studying her like she had him. She bristled slightly at his serious stare, his cautious attention, and she felt her heart rate rise a bit. He blinked and softened his gaze.

He didnt comment on it and held the cup out for her. She took it, raised it to her lips and took a sip. The tea was the perfect temperature. Not too hot and not too cold. 

“Is your name really Aragorn? It's not a codename or alias?” She asked, and he nodded slowly, his expression becoming a bit hesitant now.

She raised the cup to her lips again. She looked towards the fire. She felt her shoulders loosen and drop a little. 

“Can I be honest, Aragorn?” She said at length and looked to see him looking at her, already nodding encouragingly, “I don't know how i got here. I was with my troupe. We were fighting a war thats been going on for a while and...  well, i don't know, it seems like i'm pretty far from all of that now. I'm not really sure how I got here, but I know i met someone with a fancy accent and…”

She almost considered telling him about the ring but avoided it. She swallowed.

“... and then I woke up here. And i don't really know what to do about that.”

It was quiet for a moment after she finished speaking. Aragorn blinked once, then twice, and then a third time without saying a word. Cairo tried not to feel too anxious about this, knowing she just unleashed a world of information on him. She couldn't really expect him to figure out whatever got her here in the first place but she definitely expected some opinions from him. 

Finally, he took a breath and said, “That sounds confusing… and very frustrating.”

She nodded, “Yeah, that sums up my emotions nicely. I suppose, what i'm asking is… do you think someone or something could have done this?”

Aragorn shrugged, “I do. Far stranger things have happened.”

"Sure, Fair enough," She nodded, looking down at her hands once more. 

“What i mean is, there are forces of whos power and wills are mysteries to us. Many wise minds spend their lives trying to decipher these beings' intentions and yet to not avail. Some of the wisest minds I know have been around much longer than I,” He explained, “It was my intent to visit them soon. To see what advice they may give for… the challenges I currently face.”

“Thats smart of you,” She commented wryly, “Usually I avoid letting old geezers tell me what to do.”

Aragorn smiled at that, “Why don't we travel to Imladris together and make your issue known. One such… geezer lives there who may have answers to your questions. It's a bit of a journey, but i’ve done it many times… i may serve as your guide.”

“You want to help me?” she asked, a bit taken aback.

“Of course. Why the disbelief?” Aragorn tilted his head, his eyes and tone full of humor.

“I don't know probably because I stumbled upon your campsite out of nowhere and knocked you unconscious. For all you know, i could be dangerous but youre offering to take me to your friends house.” She rose an eyebrow at him.

She almost regretted making such a big deal of it. She was utterly lost and had no way of knowing how to get to safety, much less to someone for help but this man who apparently was incredibly comfortable and confident in these woods was offering to take her to safety and she was testing him? She had to dumb or stupid to question his help.

Aragorn laughed, short but with much amusement. She couldn't help but smile at his laugh. The absurdity of the situation was pretty funny...

You are most certainly dangerous, Milday, but i will own that i did give you a fright. Regardless,  I would be ashamed to not help a lady in need.”

She frowned unseriously, “You say “My Lady” a lot… but I appreciate all the help i can get so… thank you. And i'm sorry.”

He smiled widely. She briefly noted how pretty his smile was, with white, well shaped teeth and cheek dimples. She couldnt help match his smile.

“My apologies, Cairo, and youre very welcome.”

She waved it off and looked towards the fire again. She felt her tension loosen a bit more.

“Where is that place from here?”

“Imladris is to the east. A hard 3 day ride as the crow flies. It would probably take us a week with the necessary rest” the man explained,

“A week?!” Cairo exclaimed, blinking in bewilderment, “We’re 7 days from the nearest doctor? Is there anyway we can call a medevac? A helicopter? Or even a car?”

The man glanced at her and frowned, “I do not understand your words but any help sent for would take twice as long to reach us. It is best we ride henceforth… if not only to leave the shadow of the Blue Mountains.”

A dark tone fell over his voice towards the end of his sentence. Cairo almost asked what mountains he was talking about decided not to focus on it unless necessary.  She took another sip of the tea and exhaled in a sigh. 

“This is really good, Aragorn. Thank you.” She acknowledged, taking another sip as her thoughts pulled her away again.

“You may finish that. I’m going to break camp,” Aragorn said, standing and walking to his pack once more. This time taking the map, salve, the water skin and his cloak, which he clipped around his shoulders.

As he did this Cairo decided to get dressed. She reached over and grabbed her long shirt and pants. With great care, and a bit of squirming, she shimmied into her clothes. 

Her mind bounced between her garments and her situation as she dressed. She still couldn't wrap her head around the absurdity of the situation; her only comfort was the goal of finding someone who could. 

That map was unlike any she had seen. The markings were names straight out of the Lord of the Rings! Were they code names? Or was it a fake map printed to confuse her? 

Cairo shook her head and grabbed her vest next, heaving the armor close and lifting it over her head. She left it hanging from her body loosely, avoiding tightening the straps but finding it's weight a comfort. 

The Map could easily be secret markings of bases and cities designed in a way that mirrored a fantasy world. Or it was just a prop in role play for nerds! Either way it told her very little about her current situation.

She took her knife next and tucked it into a pocket on her pants, putting the tourniquet in the other pocket. She slipped on her boots and tied them up. When she was finished donning her uniform she felt a bit more human. 

Cairo understood more than anything that she was in the middle of the woods and far from base, with no way to contact her troupe or get home. And there was a man with a sword who was offering to take her to safety. She didn’t entirely trust him but the consequences of refusing his help seemed to outweigh them.

She had a bullet wound that wouldn't let her run very far or fast. The horse was her best option for transportation… if she figured out how to ride it safely. 

She wondered for a moment if she could knock him out again and ride to safety. But with no idea where she was going or how to get there, she could just as easily end up even more lost in the wilderness.

She had to go with him. At least until she found civilization and then she could find help or directions or something.

“Are you ready?”

She looked up, less startled than before that she hadn't heard him approach. She nodded.

He held out both his hands and she reached up, placing hers in them. His hands were warm but coarse with callouses. Working hands. 

With planted feet, the connection between them served to lift Cairo onto her feet. Her right foot tiptoed on the ground, testing the strength of her leg and finding the muscle still as weak as before. He held her hands still, watching as she tried to walk. 

“Come,” He said at last and raised one hand, placing her arm around his shoulders. His hand went to her waist and served as an anchor to support her. She tensed at the touch but focused on not putting too much weight on her leg.

It was a slow walk towards the horse. When they got there, she took back her arm and looked at the saddle. It was as tall as her head and the stirrup was at her mid leg height at least. For her to get up she’d have to swing her leg around, which meant more pain for her. 

“Turn your back towards Roheryn. I will lift you,” Strider said suddenly and Cairo looked at him, skeptical. She apparently needed no words to express her discomfort with the idea because the man gave an amused smile and nodded in assurance, “Trust me.”

She paused for a moment as her mind supplied all the reasons she didnt trust him. Yet, as she stared at his steadfast gaze she thought of how those eyes resembled the ones he gave her when he was kneeling and telling her his real name. Complete honesty. 

She huffed and shuffled where she stood. She could see the horse turning his head to watch them with it's big doey eyes and she felt slightly unnerved by it's all-knowing gaze. She faced away from the animal and Aragorn stood in front of her. He placed both hands on her hips and with surprising swiftness and ease hoisted her up and placed her in the saddle. Her hands flew to grasp the saddle, afraid she would tip over backwards, but his hands kept her stable as the horse shifted to accommodate her weight. When the horse was still and her balance more stable he looked up at her and nodded. She nodded back and he released her.

She took a breath and with utmost care, and a wince here and there, lifted her leg and dropped it on the other side of the horse. 

“I will break the rest of camp. One moment,” He said and was off to do so. She watched as he rolled up the bed roll she had slept on and kicked dirt and rocks over the fire. When that was finished He filled the skin with water from the stream and walked back to her, he placed the items in the saddle bag, tying the bed roll on top of it. 

He fixed a strap on the pack around his own back as he came to stand besides Roheryns neck. She studied the intricate braid that now tied the horse's hair away from it's eyes. It was beautiful. He patted the horse once. 

“Are we ready?” he asked her as much as he seemed to ask the horse, and she nodded once more. He nodded back.

“Then let us commence.”

He turned and led the way into the denser portion of trees. Cairo did not need to do anything before the horse began following after. She gripped the saddle tightly as the animal swayed with each step.

The terrain was mostly flat but gently sloped upwards as they walked. The ground was encased in roots in the denser area of trees and it made the horse step with an increasing sway. At times, she had to duck and hold tightly to the animal to keep her balance and avoid low branches. It was uncomfortable yet after 20 minutes or so of walking they came to a clearing. This one was much larger than the one they had been in and was not nearly as green. 

There was at least a yard of stumps, fallen trees and blackened earth. The clearing had obviously been man-made, destroyed by fire some time again, but the land had hardly grown back in that time. The ground was packed with ash and the trees that were partially burnt had long since rotten.

She stared with mild surprise at the landscape. She noticed the man- Strider pause and look around the clearing before stepping into it and beginning to make his way across. Roheryn followed. 

“What happened here?” She asked, failing to keep the surprise from her voice.

“War… Tree-felling… Forest fire. Or all of the three,” he answered, turning his head once more, “Let us hasten across.”

And so he picked up the pace, jogging with long strides towards the other end. Roheryn matched pace easily, but Cairo was forced to bit her lip and grip tighter as the pace jostled her leg. 

When they entered the tree line again, they adopted a much kinder pace though she noticed his strides were still long. Is this why they call him strider, she thought with some amusement. 

They traveled like this for an hour at least and as they fell into a comfortable rhythm, Cairo’s mind began to wander.

She thought of home. She thought of New York and the last time she had been surrounded by so much green. It was after she graduated college but before her brother had went on tour. Her father had taken her and her brother and his then girlfriend out to the catskills. 

“Asim! Grab the tents from the trunk!” Cairo yelled as she carried the firewood they brought towards the fireplace.

“Youre not my dad!”

“ASIM! Grab the tents.” Their father yelled as he stood besides the car with an old fashioned map. Asim rolled his eyes and did as he was told as his girlfriend stepped out of the car and examined the world around them. She did not look happy to be there but Cairo had warned the woman that her father wasn't a ‘glamping’ kind of man. 

As Cairo set up everything they needed for a fire and went to grab the chairs, she found herself moving in Sync wih her brother who shot her another look, this one full of mischief. 

“Don't think just because youre a graduate now you can order me around. Experience over education, ya know.” He joked, reaching out to push her shoulder lightly. 

She raised and eyebrow and stopped by the car, letting him reach for the next tent first. 

“I always get to tell you what to do i'm older.” Cairo replied

“Oh thats right. Age over beauty” He winked at her and Cairo punched him in the arm. He flinched and moved back too late for him to avoid most of the hit.

“ Asim! Leave your sister alone!” Their father yelled over and Cairo grinned, looking at Asim. 

“ She started it!” Asim complained, moving away from the car with a limp shoulder. 

“ And ill finish it!” Cairo called after him, before leaning down and take another chair. 

“Ugh, i hate when you guys speak in Arabic. I can never understand what you're saying,” ASims girlfriends whined as she walked over to Cairo. 

Cairo glanced at her, “Well maybe consider learning a few words… especially since you're dating my brother...”

She pouted “why? we live in America…”

Cairo rolled her eyes, collected the rest of the chairs and walked back to the fire. She examined the world around them as she did. The trees were tall and luscious green. The foliage thick in the areas farther from the campsites. A few other families had taken to camping that week and some were already set up, smiling and laughing around fires. Others tightening their shoes to go for a hike. 

Cairo took a deep breath in and savored the natural air. This felt like peace.

“Are you well, Cairo?” 

She blinked away and looked down, seeing Aragorn standing besides the horse, looking up at her. She nodded. 

“Yes, sorry did you say something?” She asked 

He nodded, “I think we should stop here for a moment. How fares your wound?”

She thought for a moment, her mind coming back to her body and taking stock of her leg. It hurt a little more than it had when they started their journey. She hadnt noticed until he said something.

“It's alright. A rest would be great.” She commented and swung her good leg over the horse, Aragorn was already holding his arms out for her and she let him take hold as she leaned over and gripped his shoulder for purchase. He eased her onto the ground and she felt some relief at touching the earth with her own two feet. 

He led her to a stone to sit upon and when she was sitting he handed her the water skin which she thankfully took. 

“I would like to scout ahead. Would you and Roheryn be alright here?” he asked and she blinked at him, before nodding. He looked back at her a moment longer before returning her nod and starting to walk off through the woods. 

 Cairo watched after him for a moment. When a few minutes passed she glanced at the horse. It's big doey eyes were watching her. It was almost like it knew what she was thinking. 

She considered for a moment wether or not she would be capable of horse thievery and quickly realized she would gladly borrow a horse if meant finding safety any faster. The only issue was finding safety… she had considered this already and her likelihood of finding a doctor did not seem any greater without the stranger as it did with him. 

But if there was ever a time to be free of a strange, cosplaying weirdo in the woods this would be it… It was selfish of her but she feared the unknown caused by this 

She sighed and took a sip of water. Her hand came up to fiddle with her dog tags. What would her father do?

She sat for a while longer and thought about her father. She wondered where he was, what he was doing, how he was feeling knowing his kid was off to war. She knew the military wouldnt announce her MIA until at least a few days had passed. She wondered if the news had hit him yet and how it would break herheart. The mere thought of it was starting to break hers. 

She reached around her neck and pulled the clapse of the necklace open. Bringing her hands around again, one found the ring, pulling it free from the tag and chain of which she clasped securly around her neck again. 

She studied the red jewel and the intricate yet elegant setting. It was such a beautiful gem... How did Halabrad get his hands on it? Had he stollen it and that was why he ended up in the dungeon? 

Cairo was almost certain the ring had been on his hand when he reached through the bars for her ropes, however, and she was almost certain the Haradrim wouldve simply taken the jewel if they wanted it. Which means they must not have cared...

Then why did Galadion care? Why did he give it to her?

She sighed in confusion. She tried to resign herself to the mystery that was this ring. She may never come to understand why the blond stranger gave it to her but she could carry out his last wish. She could keep it safe.

She slipped the ring over her thumb, sighing as it settled into place over her thumb. Snug. 

She glanced up at the sky, watching clouds roll over blue beyond the green leaves swaying in the wind.

Her fathers voice came to her again,

Septum Fidelis.

She straightened. Her resolve found her once more. She had to keep going, for her father... and for Galadion.

“The way is clear.”

She looked down, startled once more to see the man in front of her. His eyes were watching her with some concern. She blinked and reached up to wipe at the water threatening to spill in the corner of her eyes. 

“Awesome! Lets roll?” She asked with false confidence, taking another sip from the skin before capping it. 

He looked at her with confusion then but seemed to take her meaning. 

“Aye… we shall continue.”

It was another heave and ho that got her onto the horse but Aragorn didnt seem to mind.  They had started walking again before much more was said between them and when words were spoken it did not come from her.

“I worry for your mind… I see some sorrow avails you.” Aragorn spoke and Cairo glanced at the back of his head. She hadnt expected him to address her crying on the rock.

“I was just thinking about my family…” She explained, hoping he would leave it at that. 

He hummed in understanding, “Are they still living?”

She swallowed, “Some of them.”

It was silent. 

“I am sorry for your loss, then.”

She shrugged though he did not see it, “It's not your fault. Not much you can do about it either. It was an accident… both times actually.”

He nodded as if understanding. 

“Many times fate takes a life by mere chance. Does not mean their passing feels any less unjust.” He said over his shoulder, “Have you any siblings?”

Her breath caught in her throat. She hated that question. Because yes… she did. Asim was her brother and forever would be. 

“One brother. He’s dead now.” She explained, choking around the words with great effort. 

Cairo breathed in and out. He was right about that at least. She was angry about her brothers massing and her mothers death. The latter was out of anyones control, a result of a difficult birth. But her brothers… that had been a drivers stupid decision to drive while intoxicated. He had to have known better and if he did not then, he did now. The one responsible was spending 5-10 years behind bars. 

“What about you? Do you have any family?” She asked, pointedly moving away from her personal tragedies.

He shook his head, “I am the only child of two parents both deceased.”

She sighed, thats tragic. 

“I'm sorry to hear that.”

He hummed, “You need not be. It's not your fault. Nor is there anything to be done about it.”

She nodded, hearing how he parroted her words back to her. It was silent for a moment longer before he spoke. 

“What was his name?”

She swallowed thickly. 

“Asim. his name was Asim. He was 26.”

They walked for another two hours before they paused and Aragorn insisted on scouting. Cairo did not pay much attention once her feet hit the floor because her leg had started to ache so bad she couldn't focus on much else. When she was sitting, Aragorn had wordlessly handed her the jar of salve. 

She applied the salve without thinking. She realized after the application this morning that the salve helped with the pain and she was grateful for the chance to apply more. Her leg looked a little irritated still but she could only bind it and pray.

Aragorn took a bit longer to return this time but when he had he merely gestured her up and helped her onto the saddle. They began walking. 

They did this twice more in relative silence. Walking for hours then stopping for a few minutes. Once more did Cairo feel the need to apply the salve, the ache becoming too much to ignore. Twice more did Aragorn walk ahead and return. Cairo did not know what he was searching for but did not bother asking.

The sun had passed it's zenith on their their third break. Cairo was growing weary and tired by the travel but Aragorn had hardly broken a sweat. She was slightly irritated by his lack of fatigue, he was the one wearing the pack after all. She tried to excuse herself by blaming the wound on her leg but that did not help as much as she wanted. 

She wasn't truly angry by Aragorns strength or her weakness, but by her helplessness in the situation. Aragorn was doing all the work and she was following like a… horse! Yet even Roheryn was bearing the whole situation better than she was!

“We may rest a little longer, here. We are making good time.” Aragorn promised as he glanced around at their surroundings. They were now on the bank of a large river, the one they must have been following this entire time. Aragorn helped her down like usual and this time Cairo almost collapsed to the ground. His hands held her up though and without a word he swept her up into both arms, one leg behind her back and the other under her legs. 

“H-hey!” She tried, “I can walk just give me a moment.”

“It is no bother, Mil-Cairo.” he glanced at her upon his slipup before walking closer to the trees lining the river bank. He sat her between a pair, a few feet from the bank but still beneath the tress shade. “Rest while you can and i shall start a flame for fresh bandages.”

She frowned but let him do as he said, building a short pyre and setting it ablaze. He filled the pot with river water and set it to boil. He looked in the pack a bit more and come free with some jerky. He handed it to her with the pouch and she ate while she sipped the water. It was still a very bland meal but she was thankful for the sustenance easing the gnawing at her stomach. 

“Did you dry this yourself?” She asked, waving the venison in the air. He glanced at her and nodded. 

“Ay, half a moon ago.”

She rose an eyebrow. He had such peculiar expressions but she could understand that half a moon was about two weeks ago. Her mind was temporarily brought towards when her last moon was… It would likely be another two before her next one but she was always irregular when under duty. The stress was a hell of a deterrent to bleeding more blood than necessary.

“Do you hunt too?” She asked and was met with curious eyes. 

“Of course,” he said as if it truly was an obvious fact. She supposed that she couldve guessed from his garb and bow and quiver of arrows that he walked everywhere with.

“My father took us hunting once. We didn’t catch anything… but he said it builds character,” She huffed a small laugh as she thought about her father and his character building ‘lessons’. “It rained so hard, it soaked through our clothes. Asim and I both caught a cold. Father didn’t take us again, though thats mostly cuz we moved to the city.”

She spent a few moments in that memory but blinked back to reality when she realized she had dozed off. She saw Aragorn turning his head away to stare at the pot of water. 

“He sounds like a good father.”

She swallowed thickly, “He is.”

He nodded and stood, “I don't remember my father. He died when i was very young. My mother raised me in safety and peace until i reached of age to protect myself. I am… bitter over some of the secrets she kept. Yet grateful for the childhood she gave me.”

Cairo smiled, “You sound like every child ever… bitter and grateful all at the same time.”

He turned his head towards her, smiled and nodded, “Aye, i suppose i do. It is a funny thing for children to be so indebted and so indignant towards ones parents.”

She shrugged, “Circle of life, yknow. I'm sure my kids will be upset by some of the ways i’ve raised then and their kids and their kids. On and On the cycle continues.”

He nodded and leveled her a curious tone, “Are you married, Miss Cairo?”

She shook her head and scoffed, “No, i'm not. No kids either… thank Allah. I’m not ready for kids. Always knew i’d have to be retired and married to a hella stable partner before bringing living beings into the world.”

She shuddered at the thought of having kids young like her brother. Solomon was a beautiful child, and they were so lucky to have him. But the situation with his mother was messy and Cairo knew she never wanted to put a kid in that position.

“A wise decision,” he smiled at her and said no more. He looked at the pot and must have considered it ready as he went to Roheryns pack and dug out a few strips of cloth and the jar of salve. He went back to the pot and placed the cloth inside. He looked at Cairo and gestured to her leg, 

“If you would… i’d take this chance to clean your bandage,” He asked and she nodded, slowly undoing her bandage. He walked over to her and offered his hand as she raised the clothe. Her eyes fell on his hand once more, more specifically the ring arond his thumb.

She looked up at him and then pointedly back at his ring as she handed over the bandages, “Are you married?”

She knew it was a long shot and could tell the answer was negative in the way his eyebrows rose and his eyes clouded a bit. 

“Nay… this ring is an heirloom passed throughout my fathers bloodline,” he explained and she raised an eyebrow in surprise. Family heirloom? 

She glanced at her leg next. It was even more irritated than last she checked and the scab had broken a bit. She sighed. 

“I should see a professional about this as soon as possible,” She commented, twisting her leg carefully to eye the broken scab.

“A professional indeed…” Aragorn replied, He seemed to hesitated before continuing. “We will find one such professional at our final destination. Lord Elrond is the best healer in Middle Earth. Though I fear your wound will need attention even sooner. We may find more resources in the ford that my… brethren maintain. Though for the sake of your leg and your health, I believe continuing swiftly towards Imladris is wisest.”

Cairo took a moment. He had said a string of very strange words, some she had heard before but most that striked a feeling of familiarity within her. She frowned. Middle Earth? Lord Elrond? She was struggling to make sense of it. Were these all code names? Because it reminded her too much of the Lord of the Rings. Did he mean middle earth or middle east? It couldve been the latter right? Despite her failing to confirm if they were in the middle east or not she had to believe that was a slip of the tongue. But Lord Elrond? Wasn't that the character Hugo-something played? The one with the eyebrows of doom as tumblr so lovingly called them.

“Do you think this… Elrond can fix my leg?” She asked

“He can,” The man replied, as he stirred the pot with a dagger he pulled from his belt. 

They sat in silence a little longer as Cairo considered his words. She had no idea what this guy was smoking but he seemed invested in the Lord of the Rings themed role-playing. She was starting to worry she had made a bad decision trusting him but she was continuously confused by his earnest sincerity and his delusional storytelling. How could he seem to authentic when talking about fictional characters unless they were real? How could he believe a map so seriously unless it was true?

She said none of this aloud. Merely watched as he worked and listened as the river bubbled and rolled over itself. 

Eventually the bandages were raised to dry and he even washed his hands with soap before touching them. He walked over and looked at the salve. 

“May i?” He gestured to the salve and then her leg, she thought about it before nodding. His hands were clean so he might as well. 

She opened the jar for him and held it out. He scooped a heavy glob onto two fingers and spread one over the first wound. The stitches were raised and still tender where he pressed but he was as gentle as possible and made sure to get the entire area. He nodded when that was done and she turned her leg. He placed one hand above her knee to steady her thigh and gently applied the rest. She tensed as she felt goosebumps raise over her skin. 

She held her breath until he was done. Waiting with bated breath for him to release her thigh. He had touched her where she was exponentially more sensitive and her thoughts had raced towards the last time she was touched there. Her last partner had been when she was home soil and her hands had been much softer. But the contact from Aragorns coarse hands had done strange things to her inside and now she had to sit and hope he hadnt noticed as he tied fresh, slightly damp bandages around her thigh. 

“Alright, let us commence,” He said at last, standing and breaking down their temporary camp as Cairo literally- and metaphorically- put her pants on. 

They continued their journey without much delay. They stopped once but Cairo was adamant about not stopping anymore for her so they did almost a full 4 hours without ending. By the 4th hour, however, she was tired, a little grimey and pretty sweaty. 

Aragorn seemed in a darker mood himself, especially as the shadows of the trees grew longer and the sun became an indirect source of light. He looked around more, he glanced behind himself more, sometimes meeting her gaze, sometimes glancing over her like she was an afterthought. She wanted to know what he was looking for… but she was almost afraid to ask. 

“Are we in danger?” She asked, when they stopped for a tense break of which he did not offer to help her off the horse, instead reaching up and offering her water and jerky. She ate in quick bites and gulps. Roheryns ears seemed to flick back and forth with careful attention, his head swaying left and right, eyes looking behind woefully. 

“Not imminently…” Aragorn answered in soft tones, though his hand did not leave his sword handle. “Full Darkness, however, is a promise of danger. I would have us continue to Sarn Ford without delay. It is still a ride till safety.”

She nodded and swallowed, his anxiety was directly influencing hers.

He looked around and then up at her once more, “Roheryn would carry two swiftly under short distances… May I join you in saddle?”

She frowned and nodded, “Of course… do what you have to do.”

He nodded and walked behind the horse, unstrapping his pack and shield to tie it to the rest. He tightened the cords around the packs swiftly before walking to the saddle.

“Scooch back,” he instructed and she did, scooching as far back in the saddle as possible. Once she had, he placed one hand in front at the saddle knot and the other behind her. He placed one foot in the stirrup and with ease lifted himself up, sliding behind her.

They both shifted as Roheryn did, the horse giving one displease huff before bearing them both steadily. It wasn't as uncomfortable as she had thought but with her legs now free of the stirrup her legs were forced to grip Roheryn for balance and her thigh was quickly protesting.

“Place your hands around me. Hold tight.” He ordered once more, and she listened. Aragorn grabbed the reigns, leaned forward and spoke quick, lilted words to Roheryn. The horse whined a bit before walking forward, the horses pace quickly increased until he was doing what Cairo believes was a trot. 

This was much faster than they had previously done while walking and Cairo focused all her attention on staying in the saddle. 

They road like this for perhaps half an hour before the forest became startlingly dark. She couldn't see anything around them much less what was in front of them. But Aragorn continued forward, seeming to trust the horse to find the way through trees and over roots. 

They trotted for a few more minutes before strange sounds seemed to come from around them. At first it was cracks of twigs and rustle of leaves but then it grew louder and much more unnatural. It sounded like something was running alongside them. It was large too…

“Asca, Roheryn…” Aragorn spoke and the horse moved into a higher speed. Cairo felt fear over take her and she gripped Aragorn's waist tighter, her hands holding each other to prevent slipping.

The rustling did not stop, and Cairo couldve sworn she heard a snarl or two but before she could truly fear for their lives they broke through line in the woods and came upon a tall stone fortress overlooking the river. She nearly sighed in relief but did not have time as the pair quickly approached the fortress, followed by half a dozen gigantic wolf like beasts. 

At the same time that Cairo spotted them and an audible gasp left them, shouts came from above the fortress.

“Riders! Wargs!” A head leaned over the fortress. “Esse-nin! Name yourself!”

“Aragorn son of Arathorn!” Aragorn called up, some form of irritation leaking in his tone. “Open the gate!”

“Open the gate!” Came the call through the fortress and with very little delay the ford began to open, Cairo feared for a moment it wouldn't open in time but when it had barely cracked tall figures flew out and began firing projectiles at the beasts trailing them. 

She clutched harder as Aragorn urged Roheryn forward, surging past the people in grey cloaks and ducking slightly as their heads just barely passed under the gate. He pulled back then and their mount decreased in speed until they were left standing in the middle of a square entrance way, all three of them breathing hard. 

Cairo looked back once, anxious that the beasts would follow them, but all she could see in the darkness outside the fortress was torches and flaming arrows reflecting off of humongous yellow teeth and eyes. Howls and yells mingled with eachother until at one moment there was silence. 

She held her breath, her mind racing for answers. 

What the hell were those things?

Chapter Text

The beasts that were struck howled and veered off path while some tore past to attack their assailants. Cairo felt some relief overcome her as they halted in the foyer of the fortress, her eyes looking up and around at the space. It was a small ish, open room with stairs going up and doorways connecting on three sides towards other halls. There was hay piled in one corner and an array of weapons in the other. 

It looked… medieval. 

Aragorn slid off Roheryn and addressed one man who approached. He was dressed in a similar outfit consisting of plain clothing and a gray cloak clipped with a silver star broach. 

“Halbarad, well met!” Aragorn greeted enthusiastically, clasping arms with the man with a short, gray beard clipped short and hair long enough to bull back in a ponytail

“Well met indeed! Even though you bring trouble to our doorstep…” he glanced pointedly behind them at the gate where sounds of wolves yelping and snarling came from still. Cairo glanced back nervously as well, seeing nothing but shadows and the brief illumination of flames against steal and teeth. When she turned back to face the men neither seemed overly concerned… Halbarads eyes met hers then. “... and great beauty. Greetings fair maiden!”

She blinked, looking around again before looking back at him, this time with a very unimpressed expression. 

“Calm yourself, Halbarad, our journey has be trying and the ladys even more so. Shall we rest and talk over a pint?” Aragorn interrupted, nudging Halbarad with a hand against his shoulder. Halabarad smiled and nodded, clasping the other on the shoulder as well. Cairo noted how brotherly the two treated eacother, deciding they must be very close.

“Aye, youre in luck. Fresh venison tonight. Though it's Harons turn to cook…”

Aragorn grimaced but nodded, turning towards Cairo and helping her down. Meanwhile he adressed Halbarad, “Please have a room prepared with fresh bandages and bath for Miss Cairo.”

“Aye, Chief, as you say.” Halbarad bowed with notable sarcasm. Aragorn narrowed his eyes at the man, rolled his eyes and looked at Cairo. 

“Can you walk?” he asked and she shrugged,

“Sure, if you don't mind helping me.”

He shook his head and chuckled, offering his elbow. She eyed it before placing her hand in it's crook. They began to walk- wobble in her case- towards the first hallway across from the gate. 

“Miss Cairo is it?” Halbarad asked as he came up to her otherside, glancing at her leg once before also offering his arm. She gave him another unimpressed look and ignored the offer, “How came you to meet our distinguished leader?”

She glanced at Aragorn who looked pointedly forward, giving her nothing to go off of. She decided to lean towards the truth in her retelling. 

“I had been shot. He found me in the forest. He saved my life…” She answered, finding the truth more sobering than she realized. It was not the first time she thought that she was in a dire state, but as she reflected over the past 36 hours she truly believed she wouldve been dead if not for Aragorn.

“How fortuitous…” Halbarad smiled though this time it seemed a bit pitiful, “What a terrifying ordeal for a lady to be placed in. How happy we are to supply some relief to your hard journey.”

She wanted to find his tone condescending but just as she looked at him all she could see was sincerity and sympathy. She opened her mouth to thank him- or possibly to deflect the seriousness altogether- when their party came up to a doorway that opened towards a small dining hall entirely constructed in stone. The walls were lit with literal wooden torches and the tables and chairs were sparsely occupied by a men in gray cloaks. A vaguely appetizing smell was wafting from a giant iron pot standing at the front of the hall, where a fire was lit beneath it and a man stood over it, stirring on occasion. 

They walked into the hall, Cairo looking up and taking in it's tall arches and boarded up windows. It had definitely once been an impressive room but now it felt like a dim relic.

“Sit. We will gather our meal.” Aragorn gestured when they reached the end of the closest table, helping her sit at the very end before grabbing Halbarads shoulder and steering him towards the man with the pot at the front of the hall. Halbarad went easily, throwing his arm around Aragorns shoulder as they walked. A few looked up and cheered Aragorn with their mugs as he passed to which he merely nodded back. 

Cairo watched this all with curiosity. Everyone here knew him and Halabarad had called him Chief… Maybe he was more important than he had led her to believe?

Cairo felt fatigue weigh her down the longer her body sat at the table, until she was fully leaning her head on her hands, elbows propped on the table to hold her up. Her eyes drifted shut and she wouldve fallen asleep right thenif the sound of wood against wood hadnt interrupted her peace. She opened her eyes to see Aragorn and Halbarad sitting across from her, the former sliding over a bowl of steaming stew. Halbarad broke off a piece of a humongous chunk of bread and handed it over too. She accepted both and tucked into her bowl with enthusiasm. It was silent as they all dug into their bowls, however her own enthusiasm gradually waned as she got to the end of her bowl. When she slowed down to really taste the stew she found the flavor to be lacking. It was bitter like grass and the meat was overpowered by an onion-y herb. The vegetables were the texture of applesauce and the bread was much too salty to be appetizing. She swallowed thickly around her mouthfuls nonetheless, she new better than to waste a warm meal. 

The two men watched with humor as they too ate the stew.  Halabrad even chuckled at her expression. 

“Haron is a good lad. Bit green around the gills but a find bard. A less than fine chef, unfortunately.” Halbarad grinned and dug into his own food, not even flinching at the taste, “It's best to plug ones nose and swallow.”

The man made a show of doing as such, swallowing half of bowl it one fell swoop before taking three big bites of bread. Cairo was both disgusted and amused. She had eaten and lived with military men for the past few years. She had seen worse. 

“I am pleasantly surprised to discover his skill have greatly improved since last i was here… the same cannot be said for your manners, Halbarad,” Aragorn commented with warmth and good humor and yet a good amount of chiding. He looked at Cairo with an apology in his eyes. 

“And your mood has soured even more since last we met. What has happened on your road I wonder?” his eyes danced between Aragorn and Cairo, “Would you keep me in further suspense?”

Aragorn then launched into an abbreviated tale of his travels. Mentioning shortly how he traveled north to a place called the Grey Havens and came south along the Blue Mountains where he tracked ‘many forces of evil’ amongst the mountains feet. He was traveling up the Branduin when he came across Cairo, asleep in his campsite. He graciously skipped over that part where she attacked him and knocked him out, instead describing how they came to understand eachother and agreed to travel to Imladris in search of a healer. 

“Wow, great tales indeed!” Halbarad exclaimed though his tone seemed a bit too exaggerated for Cairo to believe him. She studied him as she bit into her bread. “My Lady, you are very fortunate indeed to have run into this ranger for he is one of our best. As for your wound, we have already sent fresh water and bandages to your room for you to wash and tend to your leg. I’d offer our own healer but you have already met the best amongst us. If he says Imladris is the best way to go, than I second his choice with complete confidence.”

She nodded. He seemed sincere enough. She swallowed thickly around the bread, “Thank you but please just call me Cairo. My Lady is super… formal”

She wanted to say weird but held her tongue. Of course a bunch of grown men carrying swords and living in the ruins of old buildings was weird but it would probably be smart of her not to insult her hosts.

Halbarad nodded and glanced at Aragorn whos eyes were looking into his bowl yet again, “As you wish…  At your leave I will take you to your lodgings.”

Cairo glanced at her own bowl and then at theirs. Halbarad had finished, but Aragorn had not. She nodded and swallowed aside the discomfort at the idea of leaving the long haired man for the first time since she woke up in this strange land… 

“Lets go. The sooner i'm clean the better,” She said, trying to convince herself. 

Halbarad nodded and stood, walking around the table to her side to help her stand. Aragorn looked up as they did, his eyes finding hers and something in them telling her he wished to say something…. But he said nothing. 

“If youd please, mi- Miss Cairo,” Halbarad offered his elbow galantly and this time Cairo took it. They had taken one step from the table when a hand gently took her other wrist and she was forced to pause and look back. 

Aragorn looked up at her, eyebrows a bit narrowed now but his expression more the same. 

“I will visit you in an hour to tend to the stitches.”

She stared at him, a bit taken back by his heavy tone and heavy gaze. She nodded and he nodded back, his hand falling away yet as it did she felt it graze the metal band around her thumb. His eyes hitched and glanced down at her hand, she pulled it away a bit too sudden to be normal and turned back to face where Halabarad was prepared to lead her. Her hand clenched into a fist, fingers tucked over her thumb and the metal ring.

Halbarad let her lean on him wordlessly as they started towards the doors again and through the hallway. They passed through the courtyard and up one set of stairs, through another arched hallway and then down a wing of wooden doors. He led her to the farthest door and opened it, letting her in. There was a fireplace inside that was lit and leaking warmth through the entire room. A large bucket was sitting on the table and besides it was a rag, some fresh bandages, and a fresh set of clothes was sat besides it. 

“Striders lodgings are right across from yours should you need anything, he knows this place better than any,” Halbarad offered, glancing over the room once before nodding, “I shall leave you to it.”

She nodded, looking after him as he left before remembering her own manners at the last moment, “thank you!”

He looked over his shoulder and smiled as the door shut behind him. 

It was quiet. She was alone. 

Cairo gazed at the bed longingly. She desperately wanted to sleep but she knew it would be better to wash up first. She was sure she looked and smelled as bad as she felt. 

She started by stripping off her clothes and leaving them in a pile by the door. She wasn't sure if they had laundry service, since this was certainly no motel but she would inquire next time she left. She examined the new pants and shirt, finding them to be basic if not a bit big. She placed them aside and picked up the tiny bar of soap that sat besides the bowl.

She had done a sink-shower before but the concept was the same with the bowl. She start with her hair, finding it difficult and greasy to let out of it's bun. Her finger nails felt like heaven on her scalp however and the small bar of soap sitting by the bowl did a great job of getting out all the grime. However by the time that was done the water was murky and a little sudsy. She swallowed her disgust and took the rag, dipping it lightly into the water and scrubbing at her face. She did not want to waste any water, seeing how limited amount there was in the bucket but she couldn't wash her leg with dirty water so she’d have to save the clean stuff till the very end. 

She rubbed her top half as best she could with the light brown water which quickly became the filthiest water she’d ever seen. The soap was a saving grace and she took great pleasure scrubbing her armpits with it. She covered her top half with the new shirt before moving on.

She looked around the room but couldn't find a place to deposit the bad water when suddenly she remembered how medieval maidens would do it in the period pieces she used to enjoy. She dumped it out the window and hoped no one was standing beneath it to be doused by her gross bathwater. 

She repeated the soap, lather, rinse process with her bottom half getting all the important pieces before finally dumping that water too and starting fresh. She glanced at her bandages next. They were pretty dirty and she was praying to the heavens above that the wound beneath it was still mostly free of debris. 

She ended up staring at the wound for quiet a while as she stood by the fire, enjoying the warmth coming from the flames and regretting the next step. She mustve been standing there for quite a while when a knock at the door surprised her out of her stupor. 

She glanced at her bare legs and then the door. 

“Uh, who is it?” She asked stupidly as she reached for the pants and stepped into them. They were a little too baggy around the waist so she folded them. 

“It is Aragorn. I’ve come to tend to the stitches” came the voice and Cairo blinked, remembering he had said in an hour. Had it been an hour? She hobbled to the door, tugging it open to reveal who he said he was.

“Hi… come in. I just finished washing up,” She stepped aside and he nodded, eyes glancing over her hair and new clothing. 

“I see, my apologies to intrude i merely wish to make sure everything is as it should be.” He said softly, stepping just past her threshold before pausing. She closed the door behind him and nodded, hobbling around his figure to move towards the fire again. 

“Youre fine… i appreciate you coming to help, actually. i was sort of dreading this process. You’d think after years of tending to other peoples wounds my own would be no trouble but…” She shrugged and looked over at him again, his face was partially illuminated by the fire and she realized he was also holding a bundle in his hands, “Watcha got there?”

He stepped closer, setting the items on the table and gently unraveling it. “More paste and bandages, some to keep with you on your journey.”

She blinked, “My journey? Don't you mean our journey? You are coming with me, right?”

He paused, hands hovering over in mid air, “I think it’d be best if i did not.”

He picked it up and turned towards her, “Would you like to sit?”

She shuffled on her feet, glancing at the fur rug by the fire and the bed which was much too far from the light and also strangely intimidating. 

“No i would not. What do you mean it's best if you don't? Is there something i should know? Are you suddenly called back to your chieftain duties?” She crossed her arms, finding herself feeling irritated by the sudden change in plans. Why couldn't he come? Why did he suddenly seem meek and demure?

His expression had hardly changed under her barrage of questions except after the very last one. She blinked and looked closer, maybe she had struck gold after all. 

“Please… sit. I will clean your wound… and explain,” Aragorn insisted, gesturing towards the rug this time and she frowned, looking at her leg and flushed a bit. 

“I… i don't have anything beneath these pants.” She admitted awkwardly, remembering where her very gross underpants and shorts were sitting filled inside her bungle of dirty clothing by the door.

Aragorn blinked before nodding, walking towards the bed he grabbed the top quilt and pulled it from the others. He held it out for her and gestured gently towards the rug again. She sighed and took it. He turned away, facing the table and started to lather his hands with soap as she pulled her pants down and layed them besides the rug. Part of the blanket went beneath her butt and the other part covered her legs. When she was ready she told him so. He rinsed his hands by dripping water from the bucket into the bowl and turned back around, jar, fresh bandages and a clean rag in hand. 

He took the bucket with him as he crouched on the rug. She glanced at his stoic face and her bandages. She started to undo the bandages. 

It was silent for a while until her wound was exposed. She resisted a grimace at the sight of the inflamed skin around the stitches. It really did not look good, a slight yellow puss had started to seep from the sides of the wound and the stitches themselves seemed ready to burst.

“I’ve seen worse,” Aragorn said suddenly and Cairo huffed a laugh. 

“So have i. Freshly amputated limbs? Now, thats bad. This though… could still be better.” She commented and he nodded, 

“Hmm, better than being sliced from chin to navel,” He added and she blinked, a scene from a dream rushing back to her. She blinked it away just as quick as it came, “But still far from a clean and stable scar.”

“True… i should be grateful.”

He paused to ring out the fresh rag from the water, taking the soap and lathering up the rag with fresh suds. “Ay, though you need not force gratitude for a wound still so fresh. in many ways, to be so injured and abandoned is a fate worse than death in glorious battle. What we can be thankful for is that you live to fight another day and you are much closer to healing than you are to illness. Let us keep it that way.”

She took these words to heart, finding truth in how so much of her pain was from being separated by her troope not necessarily by the bullet wound herself. She was lost and confused and she truly had no idea how to get herself home. But Aragorn did and now he was saying he wouldnt take her? 

“Why wont you go to Riverdale? Will Lord Elroy not want you there?” She frowned.

Aragorn remained silent for a moment and glanced at the fire. She could see the gold specs in his eyes reflecting the warm flames, giving the illusion of sparkles. It illuminated a sadness she had only briefly glimpsed before. When he looked back at her, the sadness persisted, and she didn’t flinch from it. 

“I fear he may blame me for his daughters passing.”

She blinked.

“Passing? His daughter died? How the hell would that be your fault?” She asked, her mind jumping from one mad ending to the next in the span of a second. 

He shook his head, dipping the rag once more to finish washing the wound. “Nay, she has not died. She has passed from this mortal realm into the land of her people, the Undying Lands. She travels west as we speak on a boat that intends to deliver her from harm and misery. She will be happier there, amongst her own kin. Yet, I fear her decision to leave her home, to leave her father, was in some way… influenced by me.”

Cairo’s mind raced a mile a second. Why was the daughter traveling such a big deal? And where had Cairo heard of the ‘undying lands’ before? It seemed so familiar…

“I’m… not following,” she admitted, though secretly she wanted so badly to understand who this girl was, why she was so important to her father and why Aragorn seemed endlessly guilty over maybe possibly having something to do with her leaving. Unless… there was something more to their relationship.

Instead of explaining he merely shook his head.

“It is alright, I do not expect you to understand. However, I believe it would be best if another escorted you to Rivendell. There are some amongst us who know the way and many capable warriors to protect you along the path. You would be safe, and Elrond would surely help you regardless.”

Cairo bristled as she realized how serious he was about bowing out of their journey. She couldn't blame him if Lord Elronds grievance was really as serious as he claims but damn him if she wasn't irritated by his cowardice. If this was really just because some girl had went on a cruise without asking her fathers blessing… then he wasn't the type of person she thought he was.

“I mean… sure . Don't do anything you don't want to do, i guess, but you told me you would take me to Rivendell safely. i don't trust anyone lightly, much less a stranger in the woods, but you convinced me and you got me here. I’d be lying if i said i’m not annoyed you would chicken out now because your ex-girlfriends dad might be a little angry with you over something neither of you can control.” She admitted, frustration seeping through her words. Aragorns eyes blinked up at her, seeing the reproach in her eyes as reflected by her words and feeling himself shrink with shame. 

“I know you didn’t ask to have me wind up in your campsite. I know I didn’t plan on being here but I will get home- with or without you. I need to get home and if you wont 'help me… fine, but at least be honest with me and yourself, don't make it about someone elses problems if it's really about your fear of the past. My 7 year old nephew has a bit more integrity than that,” She finished and saw as the full wave of her chastisement fell on Aragorn shoulders. He leaned back on his heels, head down and hands holding the jar wordlessly. 

Somehow seeing him recoil made her angrier. She tried to calm herself but she was heated like a low boil… almost literally as her pulse rose, pounding in her ears.

It was silent for another moment in which she felt a tinge of regret on coming down on him so harshly but she said nothing and neither did he. He untwisted the jar and dipped two fingers in, scooping out a large amount of paste and slathering it onto her wound with gentle sweep, circular motions. She watched in silence as he did the same to the other side of her thigh and then as he took the bandages and firmly wrapped her leg once more. 

When it was done he leaned back and cleaned his hands with the rag, picking up all the items and walking them to the table. 

“My apologies,” he muttered over his shoulder, voice so soft she almost hadnt heard it. He turned and glance at her once once, earnest eyes full of sadness and remorse, “Sleep well.”

Cairo watched as he turned and walked towards the door, bending down and scooping her pile of dirty clothes as he went. She almost called out to say something but let him do it and leave.

She sat there for a while thinking before cussing a million different ways and standing up, slipping on her pants and taking the quilt with her to bed. 

She slipped under the covers and as soon as her head hit the pillow, she was drifting asleep.

Chapter Text

Cairo was young again. 

She had fallen, skinned her knees on the woodchips and rocks of the local playground. She had been trying to copy Asim, who had grown bold and daring despite being two years younger and was prone to flying off the swings at peak height. When Cairo did it, however, she tumbled and skidded painfully on both shins.

“Youre not good at that, Roro”

Cairo looked up and glared at her brother, despite the tears in her eyes. She hated when he called her that and she hated when he mocked her. She picked up a fistful of woodchips and hurled them at her brother. The bounced harmlessly off his knees.

“Leave me alone, Asim!”

He didn’t. Her brother leaned down and looked closer at her scratched knees. In truth they looked worse than they were, only slightly bleeding. But to a child it felt like a good reason to cry.

“Come on, ukht. Youll be okay, it's just a scrape.” Asim cajoled, saying things just like their father would. 

“I want to go home,” Cairo complained, rubbing her nose with her palm and wiping away the snot and tears. 

“You cant give up now, Cairo, you havent stuck the landing yet,” 

The image of her brother was fading. It was getting harder and harder to see. She wondered if it was the tears of the darkness around her

“I'm not strong like you, Asim…”

“Yes, youre stronger.” 

It was completely dark now. She couldn't see anything, much less the shape of her brother. Her tins hands reached out, hoping to catch a whiff of fabric or arm to grasp.

“Asim?”

“Asim!”

“Asim-” Cairo gasped, eyes snapping open to darkness with a smidge of light, flickering against a stone ceiling. 

She sat up and looked around. The embers in the fire place were casting the feignest amount of light around the room. She took a deep shuddering breath and reached up with one hand and rubbed her eyes. She still felt exhausted and she longed to go back to sleep but a fear of what other dreams her brain would show her encouraged her to throw off the warm blankets and quilt and throw her legs over the sides instead. 

She had fallen asleep in the too large shirt and pants they had provided for her but had no socks or shoes to speak of. They had taken them to be washed just like Aragorn had taken her clothes on his way out. She somehow doubted they had a washer and dryer in the building but refused to think of Aragorn or Halbarad washing her underwear by hand… 

She reached under her pillow and pulled out her swiss knife. She ran her fingers over the wooden engraving and thought of her father. After some meditating on his image, Cairo felt too trapped by her memories and her fear for the future to stay still any longer. She placed it back on the pillow.

She braved the cold concrete and walked over to the door, swinging it open and stopping just outside the door. Across the hall was another door just like hers, this one also closed. It was where Aragorn was sleeping supposedly and she almost wanted to knock, see if he was having trouble sleeping…. Maybe apologise for how she spoke to him earlier. 

After almost a minute of deliberation she turned away and padded softly down the hall. She took the huge stone stairs down and the hallway that connected all the way into the main courtyard she had entered. The main doors were still locked and the courtyard empty except for a single figure standing by them with a hand on his sword and his eyes on a small contained fire in front of him. His eyes found hers and watched with curiosity as she took in the courtyard and his figure. She straightened trying to seem like she belonged and knew what she was doing and where she was going despite having no idea. He nodded and she nodded back, perhaps a bit awkwardly.  He pointed to his left and she turned seeing a tall and wide doorway. She looked back at him but he had gone back to looking into the fire, ignoring her. She turned carefully away and walked towards the doorway. As she got closer she could see straw littering the entrance, as she step into she saw it was a kind of stable, with a long hallway and separated stalls as soon as she entered. The horses inside were mostly sleeping, and there was little to no light except at the far end where a torch illuminated an open stall door. She carefully walked towards the torch, glancing at the horses as she passed them, some had nameplates etched on the outside of their stalls, some did not. 

She was most of the way down when a huge head and a sharp neigh and splutter came out of a stall to her left. She jumped and almost yelped in shock. When she got a good look however, she realized it was Roheryn. 

“Oh… it's you,” She sighed, pressing a hand to her chest, feeling the ever familiar metal chain, “You scared the crap out of me.”

The horse seemed to nicker, almost like he was laughing at her and she frowned back suspiciously. 

“Either youre really smart and sassy for a horse or i'm sleep deprived,” She retorted, stepping closer. 

“Why not both?”

She jumped again, this time turning to her right and seeing a figure stepping out from the open stall at the end. It was Halbarad, holding a brush in one hand. 

“Hi…” She greeted, taking another breath to relax her frayed nerves.

“Greetings,” He smiled, turning and closing the stall he just exited. A beautiful white horse with a long dark mane stuck it's head out and nudged his shoulder. He smiled and whispered soft lilting words at it, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a carrot. The horse chomped happily on the treat as Halbarad placed the brush on a shelf at the far end of the wall. He grabbed the torch next, turning and walking towards her. 

“This horse is particularly smart and sassy, quite like his owner,” Halbarad smiled easily, though Cairo could see a certain fatigue in him that grounded the previously mischievous nature into something more… sad.

He held out his hand to the horse and rubbed his nose affectionately. The horse accepted this with a grumble before raising it's snout and lipping at his hands. Halbarad laughed and pulled his hand back, reaching into his pocket and pulling out another carot. He turned to her though and held it out.

“Here, it can be your thanks for his help getting you to safety,” He suggested and she felt oddly humbled by the reminder. She took the carrot and held it out for the horse, pointy side up. Roheryn chomped it up in two quick bites and she mimicked Halabarad, rubbing his nose as he ate. 

“I suppose i should be more grateful,” She mused, her head raising to scratch between his eyes next. The horse seemed to particularly enjoy that, leaning closer and pushing into her hand. She smiled and acquiesed, rubbing a bit harder. 

“Ay, as so should we all. However, it is hard to remember when your life is in so much danger… that the ones who help us face challenges of their own,” Something in his tone let on that he knew more than what he was saying and Cairo was forced to meet his eyes. Her conversation with Aragorn came back to her. 

She sighed, “If youre talking about what i think youre talking about… then youre right. I couldve handled that a lot better. I didn’t mean to be rude, i just… i don't trust easily and i don't break promises lightly.”

Halbarad nodded, his hands folding across his chest as he mused out loud, “It is right to hold one to their word. However i believe that what is right is not always what is kind, but what is kind is always right.”

Cairo’s hands found Roheryns ears and mane next, she was absentmindedly petting the horse now while her mind muddled over his words and her own. She couldn't disagree with anything he was saying. She felt chided like she was when she was young.

“You sound like my dad…” She sighed, glancing at the man with a petulant face. He grinned and chuckled lowly.

“And i’m probably old enough to be him too.”

She cocked her head. He looked barely 35 and when she told him so he laughed. 

“I am more than twice that. You flatter me,” He shook his head

She frowned, 70? No way.

“Youre kidding me,” She replied warily

“Nay, I do not. I am nine and eighty years old… i was a teenager upon the birth of Roheryns rider,” Halbarad smiled and Cairo fully balked this time.

“Thats… impossible!”

He shook his head, eyes glimmering with humor, “I think youll find much more impossible things in this land than a handsom, wise old man.”

He then puffed his chest and tossed some of his chin length blonde locks over his shoulder and she had to laugh. 

“And humble too! Oh Allah , youre just like him” She chuckled until it faded into nostalgia and sadness.

Halbarad did not miss the shift in mood.

“You must be homesick.”

She looked at him and nodded. 

“We will see you to Rivendell. The wise ones there will be able to help you,”

She sighed and nodded, looking back at her hands carding through Roheryns hair, “Promises…”

A hand fell on her shoulder, blue eyes look seriously into hers. The intensity sent chills down her spine.

“It is not a promise i make lightly but a truth i know for sure; if any can help you, it will be the elves.”

She blinked, the last bit throwing her for a loop.

“Elves?” she raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

Halbarad nodded and removed his hand, shifting the torch to his other hand, stepping back to avoid burning her or the horse with it's heat. 

“A fickle and superstitious bunch, but wise and gentle. Just don't let their hoity toity attitude make you feel smaller than you are. We are all living breathing creatures with death in our future. Theirs just looks different.” Halbarad coached well-meaningly but the words went entirely over Cairos head. Was he serious?

“I must retire, there is only so much i can do to allude the call of my bed. I hope you can find some rest as well, your head and your leg need it,” He coached seriously, glancing at the foot she was carefully not putting much weight on.

Cairo looked down at it herself, nodding in agreement. She did not want to go to bed anytime soon- didn’t want to walk back to that hallway and the room across from his- but she knew she should.

“I'll go back soon… promise.” She admitted and he looked at her a moment before nodding.

“Then I bid you goodnight, Milady…” he bowed his head and was walking away before she could correct him or say anything in response. 

With him went the light and soon Cairo was in near-total darkness, the only light the moon shining through the small 6-inch, rectangle windows spaced out at the top of the stone wall of the stable. 

Cairo looked at Roheryn and smoothed down his hair.

“Bedtime huh?”

He was silent, blinking back with his great, big eyes. 

“What if i slept here with you?” She asked and this time he turned his head away and gave a deep sigh. She felt like he was almost exasperated with her. 

Cairo sighed, even the horse could tell she was being ridiculous.

She gave him one more pet before pulling back. It was time to call it a night. She was turning towards the way she came when a sudden gust of wind rustled through her hair, upon it was the faint sound of a voice.

“ Sister…”

She paused. That voice…

“ Sister…”

She turned slowly. At the far end of the hall, illuminated partly by moonlight, was a tall figure. Their skin was dark and their hair was closely cropped, the longest bits swooping down into their face in dark strands. 

“Asim?” She whispered, feeling her heart in her throat, “How… how are you here?”

The wind blew again. This time hitting her square in the face, carrying a stench with her that she wanted to attribute to the stalls but which hadn't been there a moment prior. 

Roheryn neighed loudly, almost causing her to jump where she stood. She turned to look at him and saw him pacing restlessly in place, neck turning back and forth and wide eyes looking at the man in the corner and her where she stood.

“Hush, it's okay-” She tried but the horse only whinnied again and backed away from the door.

“ Sister… Why have you forgotten me?”

Cairo turned to the figure in the corner, “What- Asim, I could never…”

A low buzzing came from around her. The hum carried over the breeze and it carried both song and stench towards her. 

“ Why are you here with these people… why aren't you home…”

“I'm trying, ‘akh. They will help me… I’ll be home soon. I haven't forgotten you, or Solomon, or Baba-”

“ You left me…”

Tears overwhelmed Cairo. Her body felt weighed by sorrow and loss and misery.

“I'm sorry… I'm sorry, Simy.” She tried, walking closer to his image. Her head felt heavy, the closer she got the more the breeze carried that smell closer. She felt like she was stepping into a sewer… all the while the buzzing grew louder, it became a dull hum. 

“Ill be home soon… Ill take care of everyone…”

“ Not soon enough…. Follow me.”

The figure took a step back and turned around the last stall at the very end. She blinked, head pounding she took the last few steps and turned the corner seeing only a small and skinny door with a heavy plank sitting across it. She looked around but saw only this door. 

“Asim…” She called but heard only humming. No other sounds were audible. Even the sounds of the horse's soft breathing had faded. 

Cairo reached for the door and pressed two hands beneath the wooden plank. With a deep breath and a heave, she lifted the plank up and out of the slot. She tilted it and let it fall to the ground, resting on the side of the door. 

She reached for the door's lock and easily unlatched it. She pushed and after some effort, it opened with a heavy groan. As it opened, the wind grew more forceful but the stench did not fade despite her stepping out into a wide open field and fresh air. 

“Asim?” She called, stumbling forward on 1 and a half good legs. “Asim, wait… I'm sorry.”

There were no owls, no crickets, and no nocturnal beasts out and about. It was dead silent. Her mind was struggling to decipher reality from illusion, especially as her head was pounding and her sense felt muffled like cotton balls had been placed in her eyes and a film over her eyes. Something was not right. 

Cairo searched and searched but found no figure resembling her brother around the stone fortress walls. She stepped further from the building and was turning in a circle when the voice came again, this time with an even louder and more melodic song behind it.

“This way, sister”

She turned and saw that same tall figure standing amongst the trees. 

“Follow…”

So she did.

The trees swallowed her as she limped into their shadows. The stench grew until it was practically making her eyes water. She could smell nothing but sewer… see nothing but darkness, and hear nothing but strange, melodic song. Her head swam, overwhelmed by these senses, and when at last, a small voice in her conscious said ‘perhaps I should turn back’, a hand found her shoulder and her feet stopped moving. The fingers were cold, bony and tightly gripping the tender skin between the neck and joint. 

“ Good… ” was all she heard as a wave of the sickening smell washed over her neck and into her nose. She gagged, the stench repulsive. She could feel herself swaying and another hand came to grasp her arm this time.

“ Sleep… ” came the voice and the darkness seemed to close in around her, her eyes fluttered before shutting. The last thing she could see was the moon amongst rustling tree leaves. 

Cairo drifted into unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

Cairo remembered very little after she walked into the woods. There was darkness, the soft hum of a song, and the powerful stench of garbage and death. 

But soon the song was replaced by drums and the stench of sewer was replaced by the smell of burning wood and oil. 

She had no idea how long she was unconscious but when she felt strong enough to open her eyes all she could see was sky. There was flames flickering in her peripheral and a weight holding her down. She was laying down on a wooden surface and it was moving, but when she tried to turn her head, she felt a bloom of pain in her forehead, forcing her to closer her eyes again. 

It was several minutes until she felt conscious and strong enough to try again and when she did she could see figures, walking just outside her line of sight. It was dark, their clothing was dark and even more strangely, some seemed to be wearing armor. 

“He… help-” she tried, finding her voice scratchy and dry like she had eaten dust. 

A figure stopped and leaned over, staring down at her. Their face was covered by a big helmet but she could clearly see dark eyes and yellow, crooked teeth jutting from cracked lips.

“It's awake!”

The voice called to the other and soon many, gruesome and horrific faces were leaning over her looking down with menacing eyes. Her eyes flit from one set of eyes to the next, finding each staring with open curiosity and impure intentions. Some of the faces were covered by dirty and poorly shaped helmets but most were bare faced and some of the ugliest faces she had ever seen. Her heart rate rose with fear as she examined each gruesome face. What are these things?

“Wh-where…” she tried but her attempt at speaking ended in choking on coughs. 

“She cant talk! Get her some water!” one of the voices called and a dark chuckle rose amongst them all. One leaned back and came back with a pouch. He uncorked it and another reached down to pinch her cheeks, forcing her mouth open. She tried to pull her head away but she couldn't budge. 

Dark, oil silk fluid spilled from the pouch and poured over her lips, chin and neck. She spluttered and coughed around the liquid while loud laughs came from around her. 

After a moment it ended and the crowd around her dispersed.

She laid there in dejected silence for a while, trying to hold back the feelings of panic and fear but despite her valient effort, they wouldnt be denied. The emotions bubbled up within her until tears started to leak from her eyes. How did she get here? How did this happen? 

It was a while of these questions and thoughts like them when memories of her father, her troupe, and her brother came back to her. She needed to get bac to them. She NEEDED to get home…. And she could. 

She opened her eyes again. A warmth had blossomed in her chest and she felt stronger than before. She looked to the right, finding it easier to move her head this time. She saw trees to her right. She looked to her left. More trees and also sleeping figures laying around low fire, one or two were sitting up stoking the flames and grumbling amongst themselves. She tried to move her hand, but only her finger twitched…

She focused harder. The warmth spread. Her hand rose and she carefully touched her face. The sluggish water they had poured over there had dried to a thickish paste, she wiped it away from her nose and mouth. 

She looked around again. No one seemed to notice her movement. She tried her other arm and that moved too. She pushed her self up slightly before pausing and rolling over, slipping one leg and one arm over the wooden cart she was laying on and then sliding her body to the ground. She landed with a slightly ‘oof’ and paused, waiting for the sound of people coming to investigate…. They did not.

She rose to a crouch and glanced past the wheels to examine the… creatures by the fire. They were still absorbed with whatever they were doing so she looked towards the woods. She was at least half a yard from the treeline, and there was long ish grass between her and the brush. If she could crawl, theres a chance she would go unseen from anyone looking from afar.

When she looked back at her hands however she realized there was a warm glow that was shining over her fingers… and it couldn't have been coming from the fire. She bent her chin, and traced the light from the center of her borrowed cotton shirt, where her dog tags were hanging.

She sat up carefully, staying as much behind the cart as she could, and raised her hand to the chain, unclipping and pulling it free of her shirt. Hanging from the metal chain was her tags and the ruby ring, it's red gem glowing. She froze.

She glanced at the fire…. Glanced back at the ring. She covered it with her hand then spread her fingers just a bit. Even in the dark cove of her hands it glowed, the light seeming to emanate from within the ring. To make matters even creepier, where the ring touched her hand, a warm buzz had started to creep up her arm. It felt like goosebumps but instead of a chill she felt… comfort.

How the fuck is this happening? She thought, staring at it everywhich way. She was pulled from her thoughts but a rise in volume from the grumbling fire tenders. She quickly fell onto her stomach again. 

She waited.

When it seemed like it was just a coincidence, that no one had in fact seen her or was coming to find her, she took a deep breath. She knew she couldn't wait around anymore so she quickly slid the ring off the chain and onto her thumb. She clipped the chain back around her next and started to crawl towards the trees. 

She moved slowly and silently at first. She was too concerned with the possibility of making too much rustling so she held her breath and took her time. However, as she got farther and farther from the fire and well into the darkness of the surrounding area she started to breath heavier. The army crawl had started to irritate her bullet wound and she mentally cursed every time she brought her knee up to push forward. She would be moving much slower if she didn’t use that leg though so she kept at it. 

As she moved, she started to feel her body overheating again and this time, it was painfully clear that the warmest part of her body was her hand, her arm, and her left shoulder. 

Her gaze fell to the ring every other reach of her arms forward. She could hardly look away. Try as she might to focus on the task of crawling to safety, she couldn't manage to keep her eyes or her thoughts from it.

How did it do that? Where did it come from? What did it mean….?

As her thoughts started to run, her breathing started to quicken and fear crept to the edges of her mind. She forced her eyes ahead again, she was almost there… but then the glow started to flicker. Her eyes jumped back to it and she paused. The flickering was unsteady, it seemed like the light was fading and fast until all of a sudden, it went dark.

She counter three full breathes in which the ring was dark before her fear turned to panic. She did not know why but the light going out was unnerving. Now, the only light around her was the moon high in the sky and cold light casting shadows in the trees that seemed almost ominous. 

She swallowed and started to crawl again. She had to get to safety. She had to keep going.

She was a 10 yards away when a yell came from behind her. She stopped and whipped around. A figure from the fire was now standing by the cart, his head was whipping around… he was looking for her. He yelled in a snarl-like language to the other behind him who stood and stomped over. She turned and started crawling, feverishly this time. 

Another yell and then three more joined them, she looked over her shoulder to see more gathering around it while others started to look. She was 5 yards away. 

The sound of the whole 15 group of grotesque soldiers in black clothing and armor came from behind her and when she was only a few feet away she stood and bolted for the tree line. A yell came from behind and she cursed as she heard the sound of multiple feet taking to a run. She did not need to look to know she had been spotted. 

Cairo booked it through the trees, dodging low branches and bushes with thorny brambles. She ran faster than she thought possible on her wounded leg, forcing herself beyond her capabilities and common sense considering the obstacles and low visibility. She did not care that she ran into a branch or tripped every other step, she had to keep going. 

She felt a heat grow up her arm again, she glanced down to see the ring glowing. She quickly looked up again, only to see her running face first towards a low tree branch. She ducked at the last second, only to shoot back up and trip over a boulder. 

She went down, hard and scraped both knees on the hard ground. She barely managed to brace herself with her hands against the ground but pain shot up her shoulder as she did. 

She bit back most of a pained groan and instead hissed out a quiet cuss. 

Noises were coming from behind her, they were still closer than she’d like. She clambered to her feet again and was ready to take off when something collided with the back of her head. 

Her vision went dark.