"How long must we endure this damnable forest?"
The complaint came, not surprisingly, from Fenrohir. He had long grown weary of the dark, oppressive canopy which seemed to close more tightly about him with each step. Strange vines hung here and there over the path; the more bothersome of these he slashed at with his short knife. His eyes darted all about him, as if he expected an ambush to come from any direction at any moment, though he and his companion had thus far encountered no violence.
At his side, Meruwen plodded silently, her eyes focused on the path ahead. She looked hot and overweary, too exhausted even to wipe away the beads of sweat on her forehead. She still looked lovely to Fenrohir, particularly having shed her warmer outgarments to better contend with the heat. She now wore a thin, close-fitting white cotton blouse through which only the faintest hint of dark nipples could be seen. A thin white slip hung down to her knees. She had tied her long dark hair back, though a few loose strands had escaped and hung about her face, dampening in the muggy air.
"There must be water somewhere nearby," muttered Fenrohir, peering through the thick forest. "The air seems thick with it."
His companion seemed to brighten visibly at this prospect. "Oh, I hope so! I should love to bathe my hands and feet for a time, and take our afternoon meal beside a river or a lovely pool." Meruwen hitched her pack higher up onto her back and continued the march with renewed vigor.
Fenrohir fell into step behind her, not half in order to observe with quiet pleasure the firm globes of Meruwen's ass as they moved beneath the thin fabric of her slip. He had found the lovely young woman upon his latest return to Bree. She was selling ale at old Barliman's Inn while looking for a companion to leave Bree and travel out west. Being a man of the road and having seldom journeyed to the Shire, and never by way of the Old Forest, Fenrohir had found himself quickly accepting, particularly after taking several more pints of ale with the pretty lass than was good for him.
This would not be the last time that Fenrohir regretted that decision--a woman, even one so beautiful as Meruwen, was not sufficient reason to go plodding through this dark, dank land. After all, he had little to show for their travels together; this was the most he had ever seen of her, and it certainly wasn't enough to compensate for this latest adventure.
At length the ground began to fall steadily into what seemed like a valley, although it was difficult to tell through the thick trees. Abruptly these began to thin out, and Fenrohir actually heard the sound of flowing water. Sunlight trickled down through gaps in the canopy overhead.
The heat increased. Fenrohir paused for a moment to pull off his tunic, with which he wiped the sweat from his brow. He draped the damp garment carelessly over his shoulder and followed the lithe form of his companion.
He found her standing in a clearing alongside a wide, brown river that had appeared quite suddenly out of the thinning trees. Massive willow trees grew on the banks of the river, providing shade from the hot sun overhead.
Meruwen turned at his approach and smiled broadly. "At last, some cool water. Come and sit beside me, Fenrohir. We are much in need of rest."
She sat beside a particularly large willow tree, dipping her feet and calves into the sluggishly flowing water. Dirty though it was, the water felt cool and refreshing to her tired feet. She lay back on the bank and smiled up at him lazily.
