Chapter Two
The rain fell in large droplets, carving small holes into the dust at his feet. Boromir sighed and pulled his cloak tighter around him. The wind carried a chill through the damp air, and Boromir felt his thoughts being pulled to the ring yet again.
Bring me a mighty gift, his father had told him. Now he was committed to destroying that gift. He turned around to look at Frodo once more. The hobbit lay sleeping, surrounded by Sam and his cousins. Aragorn sat over them, oblivious to the rain, smoking silently. His eye caught Boromir's and he smiled slightly. Boromir looked away and shifted, trying to find a comfortable position against the tree he was leaning against.
The next morning Boromir strode alongside Gandalf in front of Gimli and the hobbits. Aragorn asked Legolas to walk in the rear with him.
"Is something bothering you, Aragorn? Legolas asked.
"It's Boromir. He seems a little preoccupied." Aragorn responded in Sindarin. Legolas started for a moment, surprising Aragorn. "Had you noticed it too?"
The elf thought for a moment before speaking. "He does seem a little quieter today. As though something weighs on him."
Aragorn nodded, watching the tall figure beside the wizard. "Maybe you should keep an eye on him, see if you can find out what's bothering him."
Legolas snorted. "How am I supposed to do that? Wouldn't you be better? You are supposed to be his king, after all."
Aragorn shook his head. "No, I think you should be the one to do this. He's a proud man, already upset by me. In his estimation, his father is king of Gondor." Aragorn sighed. "Besides, you've already dazzled him."
"Dazzled him?" Legolas almost shrieked, causing the others to turn and look at them. He lowered his voice. "What are you going on about now?"
"He's never been with elves before, Legolas. He's intrigued by you."
Legolas laughed at that. Then, inexplicably to Aragorn, he made a small meow.
"Try and make friends with him." Aragorn looked meaningfully at Legolas. "He may be in more dire need than any of us."
"Oh," Legolas exhaled. "The ring?" he asked very quietly.
"I think it might be. See what you can find out."
Legolas nodded in agreement. "One thing, though. What do I talk to him about? What if I say something inappropriate?" Aragorn glared at him.
After the next rest stop Legolas motioned to Boromir. "Come, walk with me." he suggested.
Boromir looked surprised, but made his way to the side of the elf. He was still slightly embarrassed about his remarks two nights previously, and was hoping to find some way of convincing Legolas that no insult had been intended. Legolas spoke warmly to him.
"Tell me of your home, Boromir. What is the White City like?"
Boromir stared at the elf. Then a horrible thought crossed his mind. "Legolas," he asked firmly, "did Aragorn assign you to be my friend?"
"Yes and no," Legolas replied honestly. "He did suggest I should get to know you, as we will be companions for some time. But I had other reasons."
"May I ask what those are?" Boromir said, getting a little flustered. Legolas did not notice and went blithely on.
"I am curious about your comment. Regarding the way I move. I assure you, I'm quite ordinary for my kind."
"Somehow I doubt that," Boromir retorted. "And I really don't need you to be my friend so Aragorn can keep an eye on me!"
Legolas stopped for a moment and then continued. "I am not here to spy on you, if that's what you're implying." he told him quietly. "Why would you think that?"
"Because you haven't said one word to me since the night you were winging acorns at Gimli! How do you explain that?"
"Simply. I had nothing to say."
"I don't believe that," Boromir began, and then stopped. He realized that Legolas had not really been speaking to anyone else in that time either.
"You really just don't talk when you don't want to?" he asked the elf.
"No, I don't. Why fill the air with meaningless chatter?"
Boromir was taken aback. "I've never met anyone who didn't make small talk."
"Now you have. So, at the risk of looking like an ass, shall we talk?" Legolas suddenly grinned at the tall man and Boromir found himself smiling back.
"Alright," he gave in. "What would you like to know?"
Legolas asked all manner of questions about Gondor and Boromir found himself opening up to the lithe young elf. He spoke of the White City in the sunlight, his love for his younger brother, Faramir, and was careful in all his answers and comments regarding his father. Legolas was quick to notice what the man did not say.
"If your father is anything like mine, he'll be a demanding sort, won't he?" the elf asked gently. Boromir looked away for a moment, confused by the question and not wanting to give the elf the wrong impression of the man who had shaped his life.
"It's just that he has so many concerns and worries!" he explained. "The safety of the West has depended on us for so long. He will not give in, to anything!" he almost spat.
Legolas nodded, sunlight glinting off his pale braids. "Just like mine." he said quietly. "But I'll bet he's a good man. Underneath?"
Boromir looked nearly ashamed as he muttered "Sometimes. Who is your father, Legolas?" he asked.
"Thranduil." Legolas said, looking away to the distance. "He can be called difficult at times. Sometimes he's a little tempestuous, I think you would say."
"Thranduil." Boromir murmured, recalling something Gimli had said. "Thranduil the Elven-King? Of Mirkwood?"
The elf turned to face the man, and was both startled and amused at the look in Boromir's eyes. His father's reputation was legendary, especially among the dwarves. "Yes, that's him." he replied calmly.
"You're a Prince, then?" Boromir asked, his thoughts moving in an entirely different directon. "Well, well."
Legolas shrugged. "There's not much to being a Prince when your father has no plans of ever not being a King. I try not to let it bother me too much." Boromir laughed, but thought he recognized in Legolas a bit of a kindred spirit. Another son of an ambitious father.
"Were you drilled to excellence from birth, then?" Boromir chuckled. Legolas recognized the bitter undertone in his voice.
"Probably from conception," he conceded, with a rueful grin.
Their conversation was light and easy from there on, as they continued to follow Gandalf. When they stopped to make camp for the night, Boromir was almost sorry to leave the elf. After their quick meal, Merry and Pippin were anxious for another lesson in swordplay, and Boromir was happy to comply. For an hour the hobbits banged away at him, coming close enough to give him a good bruise or two and give him hope for their progress.
Lying down that night, as far from Gimli's snores as he could get, Boromir found that he was exhausted. He stretched out, grateful that Legolas had the night watch, and looking forward to a good night's rest. He closed his eyes and drifted off, the small noises of the camp soothing to him.
A mighty gift. His father's voice suddenly rang in his ears. His eyes searched the mists, looking for the figure he knew must be there. You promised me, Boromir! Something large and leathery flew by his head, its cry raucous in the stifling fog. Boromir ducked and rolled to the side.
"Father?" he cried. "Where are you? I must explain!" Scrambling to his feet, he gripped his great sword, fearful of attack. He gazed about him, searching for the tall and imposing figure.
I must have it, Boromir! Do not fail me in this!
"Father!" Boromir screamed into the dankness.
"Boromir!" he heard a voice behind him. The tone was almost caressing.
Suddenly he was awake. He shook off the slender hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see the concerned blue eyes of the elf. Legolas held up his hand in a quieting gesture, as Boromir heard the others stirring.
"It is fine. A snake found our friend warm and startled him." Legolas called over his shoulder.
Groans from the others told Legolas his lie had worked. He turned back to the shaking man.
"I'm sorry I couldn't wake you sooner." The elf's voice was a calm whisper in Boromir's ear. "I was on the other side of the wood."
"Up a tree, I'll bet," Boromir replied, trying to joke away his fear.
Legolas looked affronted for half a second, and then broke into a broad smile. "Yes, as a matter of fact. But we'll keep this between ourselves, shall we?"
Boromir grunted and nodded, an answering smile on his own face. Legolas saw the man's still shaking hands and covered them with his own. "Can you walk?" he asked, care fighting the amusement in his eyes.
"Legolas?" Merry called into the darkness. "What did you do with the snake?"
"I'm taking it away right now, my young friend. Go back to sleep."
Boromir nodded and the two of them moved away from the others, allowing them to go back to sleep. Legolas was surprised at the strong grip Boromir kept on his hand.
"Was it bad?" the elf asked. "What am I saying? Of course it was bad. Did you want to talk about it?"
Boromir shook his head. His hair was tousled from sleep and to Legolas he looked very vulnerable. Legolas nodded. He stared ahead and began speaking very quietly.
"When I was a child I had the night terrors. I still remember how very afraid I was of the Balrogs and fell beasts that filled my dreams."
Boromir turned to look at the elf. In the darkness he could almost swear that Legolas' eyes caught the starlight and glowed faintly.
"I was ashamed of that fear." Legolas continued. "I am the son of the great Thranduil. I think you understand what that was like."
"I think," Boromir broke off, and cleared his throat. "Yes, I do understand."
"We have a great evil with us, Boromir. Never forget that. It will work on us in ways we do not understand. But we must fight it. Always. Never be ashamed of that."
Boromir tried to speak, found that his lips were too dry. He licked them and tried again. "It was my father." he said simply.
Legolas looked at him with a face full of understanding and pity. "Never be ashamed of that, either."
