Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings or its characters, nor do I wish any monetary compensation for my works. I do what I do because of my profound respect for one of the greatest British authors of all time, J. R. R. Tolkien. This said, I have quoted some lines directly from either the books or the movies. Anything you recognize is not mine. Once again, as I have not seen this story or any like it on the internet, I am sorry for any unplanned similarities. All hail J. R. R. Tolkien!
A/N: This story has been written using both the movies and the books. Although they are both a portion of the same world, they differ greatly at times. I will try to remain true to Tolkien (or at least as true as an A/U author can be), and I apologize ahead of time if I may mischaracterize anybody from either the films or the book.
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The trees passed lazily. None of the travelers seemed to be in a great hurry, although their mission was urgent. They had already lost one of their companions when they took a detour through the mines. After being chased by orcs for the rest of the day, they found themselves in the forest of Lothlórien at nightfall. It was there that they had been given these boats, as well as many other strange and wonderful gifts. Being a Ranger, Faramir knew how to travel through woods silently and with speed, but it was Aragorn's choice to travel on the water. Faramir now trusted this man with his life. It would seem to be a good thing, for his life was now resting in the hands of this Dúnedain.
Time flows slowly on a river. The night sky overhead was too quiet to do anything but stand still, while the trees on either side silently pulled away from the trio of boats. Faramir knew that this quiet peace would not last long. In another few days they would have to get out of the boats and carry them around Sarn Gebir, one of the most dangerous stretches of rapids on the entire Anduin River. It was the eighth night of travel, and Merry had been given the task of watchman in Faramir's boat. Suddenly, they heard a cry from Sam, the watchman in the lead boat. Faramir looked ahead only to see the beginnings of the Rapids.
As Aragorn tried to slow his boat, Faramir called out, "Aragorn, we cannot dare the Rapids, not in the dark of night! But no boat can survive Sarn Gebir, be it night or day!"
"Back, back!" cried Aragorn. "Turn if you can!"
The three boats slowly turned against the rushing water. The current dragged them on towards the dangerous shore on the eastern side. Faramir shouted to Merry and Pippin, who was sleeping. "All together, paddle! Pull, or we shall be driven upon the shoals!"
Suddenly, they heard the twang of bowstrings in the air. Faramir looked at Legolas, but he didn't even have the great Galadhrim bow out. The expression on his Elven face was of fear. "Yrch!" he cried.
"Orcs!" echoed Gimli.
Finally, after some time straining against the current and hoping the arrows would stay out of the boats, they reached a spot on the western bank to hide from the orcs' arrows. Legolas leapt from his boat, pulled out his Galadhrim bow, fitted his arrow on the string, and neatly landed facing the incoming barrage from the orcs. Suddenly, Faramir was filled with a fear such as he had felt only once before in his life.
"Elbereth Gilthoniel!" Legolas sighed as he turned to stare up into the night sky. The stars grew dim, then went out. Frodo grabbed his shoulder in pain and crouched upon the ground as if to hide from this unseen enemy.
Twang. The Elvish bow sang as it launched its dart into the sky. A high-pitched scream filled the night, followed by cries from the orcs in the Black Speech. No more arrows were shot that night.
"Praised be the bow of Galadriel, and the hand and eye of Legolas!" cried Gimli. "That was a mighty shot in the dark, my friend!"
"But who can say what it hit?" replied the Elf.
"It reminded me of the terror I felt in Osgiliath when it was first conquered," answered Faramir. "One day, a black horse crossed the bridges. Its rider was hooded and cloaked, clothed all in black robes. The terror was complete."
"Too much it reminded me of the shadow in Moria – the shadow of the Balrog," whispered Gimli.
Frodo shivered, somehow affected still by the shadow in the sky. "It was not a Balrog," he said. "It was something colder. I think it was—" Frodo fell silent.
"What did you think it was, Master Hobbit?" asked Faramir.
"I think I shall not say. Whatever it was, its fall has dismayed our enemies."
"So it seems," replied Aragorn, still peering into the night.
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"The day has come at last." Aragorn glanced at the island of Tol Brandir in the middle of the great River. "It is the day of choice which we have long delayed."
There was silence from everyone. Frodo too glanced uneasily towards the East, wherein lies Mount Doom. Legolas glanced back to the West.
"Shall we turn West towards Gondor, towards a haven and shelter? or shall we continue into the East towards Fear and Shadow? Perchance we must break up; some go West to ask Gondor for aid, while the Ring continues on toward the East. Whatever we do must be done soon. I fear there are orcs already on this side of the water."
There was a deep silence. Legolas continued to peer at Amon Hen. A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind.
Aragorn spoke up after the long silence. "Well, Frodo, I fear the burden is laid on you. In this matter I cannot advise you. I am not Gandalf, and although I have tried to bear his part, I do not know if even he would have counsel for this hour. Such seems to be your fate: to always choose the paths."
"I know haste is needed," replied Frodo softly, "yet I cannot choose. If you leave me alone for an hour, I will speak."
"Very well, Frodo son of Drogo. You shall have your hour." Aragorn pitied the small Hobbit who carried the fate of the world around his neck.
Faramir watched Frodo wander off. He heard Sam muttering to himself, but thought little of it. Sam seemed to be muttering an awful lot lately. The Ring called to him. He knew the awful power it contained. He knew how destructive it could be. He knew that the Enemy would never stand up to the Power of Faramir, Lord of—No. It must not happen. And yet…
"He is debating which course seems most desperate," said Aragorn. "Which would any of us choose, were we in Frodo's stead? I do not know."
"Why can we not help him out?" Legolas spoke up. "Let us call him back and have a vote. I should vote for Minas Tirith."
"As would I," said Gimli. "However, if Frodo chose the dangerous path to Mordor, I would follow him even to the foot of Barad-dûr itself!"
"I too would go with him," replied the Elf. "It would be faithless now to say farewell."
"I would wish to go to Minas Tirith," said Faramir, "but I cannot leave this young Hobbit. It would be almost a betrayal."
"Indeed it would be if we all should leave him," replied Aragorn. "However, we do not all need to follow him to Mount Doom, if he so chooses."
"Begging your pardon," interrupted Samwise, "but Mr. Frodo isn't hesitating about which way to go at all. He knows he's got to find them Cracks of Doom, if he can. But he's afraid. He's just plain terrified. And he isn't wondering if we'll go with him or no, if you follow me. If he screws himself up to go, he'll want to go alone. Mark my words! We're going to have trouble with him when he gets back, sure as his name's Baggins."
"Well, I wish Frodo would 'screw himself up' and come back," said Pippin. "The waiting is—"
An odd cry drowned out the rest of his words. Legolas sprang to his feet, eyes wild with fear. "Aragorn! Nad no ennas!"
Aragorn replied, "Man cenich?"
"You do not know either?"
Merry and Pippin looked at each other in fear. "We must try and find him," said Merry. "Come on!" shouted Pippin. The two raced off into the woods, while Legolas and Gimli ran in another direction.
"Wait a moment!" cried Aragorn. "We must be arranged – here, hold! Wait!" Aragorn sighed and ran after the two Hobbits, calling back, "Sam and Faramir, stay here in case Frodo returns!"
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A/N: Yes, I did quote from the book. Anything directly quoted from the book was in The Fellowship of the Ring, Book II, Chapters Nine and Ten. Thank you, reviewers, to whom I cannot respond anymore, by order of . Sadly. However, I will write you an e-mail in response if you leave an address. Please review, and thank-you for reading! A special thank-you to my beta, Dally. May your muses always give you the words to write, as long as you don't spend three weeks in replying to my story!