Disclaimer: Everything belongs to the masterful Tolkien and his other affiliations…Except Rem.

'Everything in this world

Exists to wear you down'

~Tite Kubo

Dirt and stone crumbled from beneath her feet; bare earth roiling in a nauseating avalanche of brown and swimming shadows. Rem felt a scream choking its way past her throat, but was swallowed up by the thrashing kaleidoscope of sound and darkness erupting all around her. She was falling…falling…

She bolted upright, her skin bathed in a cold sweat as she gasped for breath. It took her a minute or two to get her bearings, and she realized where they were. They were camping out for the second time within the depths of Moria. It was starting to get to her. She rubbed her forehead anxiously, looking around tiredly at the majority of her sleeping companions.

They had come upon tools and corpses for the better part of their journey, apart from decaying weaponry and the brooding smell of the Orcs. Before now, she had never before been so close to dead bodies…Though she was no stranger to hearing of tragedy and seeing depictions of ravaging wars or otherwise throughout the world, this was entirely alien to her. Violence was something on television newscasts or radio announcements…

She could actually smell the acrid stench of the bodies at certain intervals, depending on where they were: bodies that were once living, breathing beings…

She was never going to get used to that smell…These caverns were haunted by the very memory of those who had crafted and been housed by them. It made her heart ache.

And then there were the twisting halls and caverns they had to pick their way across. At some point, she'd had much difficulty in traversing a steep incline of stairs. Among other things, dwarfs apparently didn't believe in hand-rails. Rem wasn't afraid of heights…but that didn't mean she wasn't scared shitless of losing her footing on a luckless hike up more rock. Which probably explained that dream she just had. Idly, she wondered if she really had the stomach for all of this…battles, after all, made better stories than they did as experiences…

Realizing the sentry on duty was Boromir, and that he was watching the area quite intently, she heaved herself up from her pallet. Rem needed some company to drown out the remembrance of her nightmare. She feared that if she dwelt on it too much, she really would fall when they had resumed their journey, either from lack of sleep or just plain nerves. Even his distraction could provide her the luxury of forgetting that unwanted concern.

Ignoring the nervous clench in her gut as he noticed her approach, she shuffled over to him, cocooning herself within the comfort of a blanket from her sleeping area.

"Hi." She murmured, not yet meeting his eyes.

"And good eve to you, milady." Made brave by his kind tone, she continued.

"…Mind if I sit with you?" he made room for her on the rock he was sitting, scooting aside. She sat next to him, snuggling more into her blanket. Much like she had at her desk all of those weeks ago…back home.

"You should take this time to rest, Lady Rem." There was slight disquiet in his voice.

She wrinkled her nose slightly at the 'lady' title.

"Couldn't sleep…And please, nix the 'lady'. Just call me 'Rem'." She caught a glance of him out of the corner of her eye. While his immediate focus was on the area around them, his brow was furrowed in consternation.

"Aragorn referred to you as this…" She nodded, looking toward where his head was inclined, as if trying to spot something interesting that had not yet come to his notice.

"If that is your preference then." Silence descended between them. And Rem had to pause to wonder at the awkwardness of it. It hadn't been nearly this uncomfortable between them before, even when he had taken a hand at training her in Rivendell.

Or rather, when he had made the effort to try. She was far from being adequate at handling that type of weaponry. Even archery, for that matter…she scowled inwardly. I could still use a lot of practice. Boromir's voice broke her away from the aimless trail of thoughts her mind had taken.

"Is it true you can see the future?" There was a tangible thought to the light in his eyes, although what it was exactly Rem was not able to say. She couldn't seem to place it…and it would probably remain undefined. But…she could tell it was sad, somehow. Dread, maybe? She was aware that Gondor was in turmoil…or rather, with the brewing danger in Middle Earth the greatest city of men was feeling ill at ease. No help in part to Denethor; Boromir's father.

"…I'm not really supposed to talk about it." She replied hesitantly, afraid that –asleep or not—Gandalf would be none too pleased with the direction this conversation was going.

"Did Gandalf the Gray convince you of this?" She cringed, wondering if maybe she ought to have lain awake in her bedding than converse with the warrior. Though she need not have worried, what with his next statement.

"Then…I suppose I trust it is for the best." She eyed him carefully, grateful for his admonition. "….Surely…he would have you speak of our task if it were doomed to failure." Guilt, thick and hot, began burning and eating away at her insides as his words sank in.

"I am glad of this…for there is much left to be done. With Sauron's demise, my father will have need of me." She couldn't help but notice his quick glance toward where Aragorn lay, and she swallowed. God…if only I could tell him…

Feeling a subject change would best suit her needs, she asked a question that had been stewing at the back of her mind for some time.

"Boromir….I was wondering…" She shifted, uncomfortable under his full attention.

"Back in Rivendell, when I mentioned I had a little experience in archery…" She stopped for a second, and he patiently awaited her to continue. "Why did you step forward to teach me swordplay? And why so brief? Did I really suck that badly?"

The smile playing about his lips, nor his sudden keen interest in their surroundings didn't go unnoticed by the flushing Rem. Eh…maybe I should have phrased that better…

"I had hoped that it went unnoticed." He admitted softly. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes: she wasn't THAT selectively observant.

"It was because…I was intrigued." His soft eyes met her own, and Rem's grip on her blanket tightened.

"Care to elaborate?..." His smile became for prominent, and he looked away again, falling into an anecdote.

"You reminded me of her so much…The way you looked. And in the way you speak your mind; letting your temper carry you through to strength. How you don't shirk away from difficulty, no matter the task." Rem's eyes were large in the darkness, like a deer caught in headlights. While she was engaged by his growing tale, at the back of her mind there dwelt a blossoming worry that he was…about to spout feelings for her. OhShitohshiohshit…

"She had some skill with a blade and I …couldn't resist seeing whether or not you might reflect her in that regard as well…"She waited, with bated breath. He hesitated.

"It comes easier to some than most…" he was being generous. She knew how terrible she had really been during training. He continued, "Though you make me think of her…and I long to once more see her face." Rem nearly breathed a sigh of relief at the admission: the last thing she needed was one of the Fellowship to develop 'feelings' for her. Thankfully, the Steward's son merely saw her in the shadow of another woman. A woman who Boromir no doubt had placed on a pedestal and yearned to return to…

"So I did suck," she chuckled, but upon catching the look on his face, she schooled it before commenting, "yeah, practice makes permanent…" she shrugged, "I've never handled that kind of weapon before. So I'm not too surprised." He accepted this answer, nodding as his smile was rekindled.

"So I noticed." Another silence descended, before Rem cut across it.

"So…what's her name?"

"Aldisra" Rem pondered this, her thoughts leaking through her mouth when he didn't offer to continue to carry their growing conversation.

"What does she look like?" Neither spoke, and as the minutes ticked by, Rem wondered whether he would bother to answer at all. But then he spoke, his voice heavy with some worn emotion.

"Warm brown eyes…and hair kissed by the sun." She nodded, taking note that he obviously missed her.

"Are you…courting?" She nearly slipped and said 'dating'…he probably wouldn't have been able to fathom that expression. Plus she didn't really want to go into details. There was a good chance people were conservative in this world, even if Tolkien hadn't bothered to elaborate. A frown marred his expression, and he lowered his gaze to the rocky terrain below from where they sat.

"…In a way…As much as I was able…But I know not what has become of her…" she stared at him, sadly. So, he probably hadn't even been able to say goodbye when Denethor had entrusted him to go to Rivendell. Poor guy… "Nor what else is becoming of this world." Again, he lapsed into silence. Although, there was no awkward feel to it this time around. Merely a time of introspection for two people who had a lot to carry within the recesses of their minds.

"I would not usually trust to hope. Darkness grows in lengthening shadows from Mordor, and my people continue to sacrifice with sweat and bone. But for your presence…" Rem felt a pang of regret for the man seated next to her. She thought she might throw up…, "…there may yet be light in the world. So I trust that I shall see her again…before my time is done. And she may yet bear me a son…"

Compared to when the Hobbits had seen her naked, nothing could top this horrible feeling. She felt like she was exposed on an entirely different level. These people…her companions, were starting to trust her. And there was nothing she had to offer to reconcile her absolute uselessness. She was a fraud, an accident…a mistake…and they would all hate her. She swallowed, remembering Gimli's confidence in her, and how he had easily stayed by her side of late. If not now, then they would later…just as soon as the fates aligned. Fuck…

Her stomach clenched, involuntarily. What she wouldn't give to wake up at home, back in her dorm. Even if it meant having an uncomfortable crick in her neck from sleeping funny, and receiving a failing grade on her anatomy quiz. It was nothing compared to the agony of having people counting on her only to know, deep down (and also through a wizard's warning), that she couldn't do anything worth while to truly make a difference.

Plus, it didn't help that the Elf still regarded her with suspicion, even if he helped her at times out of obligation. She guessed it had more to do with his mercurial temperament than any actual desire on his part to assist her. More likely it was due to the good-natured bullying from the dwarf. Or he merely saw her as a woman in need of aid…which wasn't all that much better, in her opinion. She wasn't some damsel in distress…Just a girl—woman!—she corrected herself, that was far from home. And poised to be the scapegoat for her friends, when the Fellowship crumbled apart.

It wasn't long before everyone was roused by Gandalf to resume their journey. Desperately hoping her nightmare wouldn't come back to haunt her by coming true, Rem gamely clambered up the rocky path with a firm grip on the stone when the need called for it. While she was confident in the fact that she wasn't afraid of death itself…that didn't mean she wasn't afraid of the possible pain that accompanied the process of it. She would much rather go in her sleep, if she had it her way. So she took her time and traveled slowly, not wishing to meet an early demise. Or worse: another stupid injury caused by her own maneuverings. Before arriving in Middle Earth, she had never even visited an emergency room. To date, she had injured her knee, bruised her pride (more than on one occasion), and twisted her ankle. Disheartening to say the least.

Rem was also careful to let the Hobbits climb ahead of her. After their accidental escapade, it hadn't escaped her notice that both Merry and Pippin had become more quiet while in her presence. Not a good sign. Considering how talkative they used to be. True, they might only be trying to avoid her ire , but she somehow doubted that was the case. Besides, she could have sworn she'd caught Pippin checking out her breasts shortly after the…incident… so there was no way in hell she'd make the mistake of allowing him to look up her skirts.

And that was another thing. Climbing in a dress was a bitch. She'd scaled her fair share of trees when she was a kid, but this was just ridiculous. Not to mention slightly undignified. She tripped once again, scrabbling with the rock in anxious panic. Okay, really undignified. She was interrupted from her internal griping at the sound of Gandalf's voice. It cut through the long shadows cast by the glow of his staff, lingering in the musty air.

"The wealth of Moria was not in wealth…or jewels…" She puffed her brown hair out of her eyes, glancing at small, silver veins in the rock with renewed interest, "…but Mithril…" It was then the wizard took the opportunity to shine his staff all the brighter, focusing its glare into the vast abyss to their right. In spite of the fact she had imagined the sheer size of it as a child, as her father's rambling voice droned about her like a bee over a blossom, nothing could have prepared her for what it was she saw.

Standing there, looking over the gigantic mine as it stretched further into the darkness, she felt like a grain of salt in the vast ocean. Miles of chain and tools floundered motionless in the air, stretched above them and dangling in lifeless array. They reminded Rem of abandoned cobwebs, dangling in the darkness. She could hardly believe thousands of Dwarves had once worked here: carving into the face of the cliff and down below…like ants in a sort of nest, or hornets in a hive. Rem felt her mouth go dry, scooting further from the edge just to be safe. It didn't escape her notice that some of the others did the same.

The soft crunch of gravel and rock reminded Rem to keep walking, and her companions continued their journey. Gandalf resumed his narrative.

"Bilbo had a shirt of mithril rings that Thorin gave him." Rem had to stifle the chuckle she had almost uttered at the sound of Gimli's sharp intake of breath and following utterance.

"Aww! That was a kingly gift!" She allowed herself to smile, reminiscing to herself. Well, he did save their asses more than once…

"Yes…" Gandalf nearly chortled, but seriousness was still lacing his tone, "I never told him, but its worth was greater than the value of the Shire." Rem had to fight the urge to peek over at Frodo, knowing he would have a priceless expression of astonishment on his face. Still, she couldn't completely keep herself from looking amused. Boromir shot her a confused expression, to which she reacted by shrugging. Surprisingly, Legolas did not witness the exchange. In fact, he would not look her direction at all. Not that she was complaining.

Since the misadventure of her getting dressed, he'd taken to ignoring her completely. Which, for the time being, she was perfectly okay with. With his being backward in coming forward around her all the time (offering assistance while scrutinizing her every move) she found his paranoia and misplaced gentlemanly behavior very disconcerting. She would rather file his inconsistent behavior at the back of her mind until further notice.

For now, Rem was content for being a mere shadow in his presence. Prince or not, he could be a real jerk. She regretted having ever allowed herself to cry in his arms at the archery range back in Rivendell. While she was no psychic, she had an inkling that part of the reason he was delicate with her at one moment and verbally forceful the next was because he thought her own behavior erratic. The bastard…

They began meandering toward a steep set of worn steps carved into the living rock itself. Once again, Rem couldn't believe Dwarves didn't seem to have much thought for self-preservation. What I wouldn't give for fucking hand-rails! After what seemed like ages, they finished scaling the sheer face of the stairway. Before them lay a sizable portion at the face of three stone archways. Doors to beyond where they now stood. Though she expected it, she still felt her own mood plummet as Gandalf uttered those seven, awful words.

"I have no memory of this place."

"Are we lost?" Pippin's whispered voice sounded hushed even in the darkness. Rem sat with her back against some of the stone, laid out warily like a rag doll. She wasn't exactly the athletic type. Yet she flattered herself into thinking that all of this traveling was probably doing wonders for her health. Always look on the bright side…

"No." Merry murmured back.

She wasn't fat, anyway….She was thin enough to count herself as being in shape...though she didn't have any real muscle tone yet to speak of. Because of this, she just preferred to think of herself as 'potentially muscular'. Yeah, right. Keep telling yourself that.

"I think we are," Pippin shot back.

"Shh!" Samwise hushed fiercely, "Gandalf's thinking!" There was a brief respite, before Pippin spoke once more.

"Merry…"

"What?!" He asked waspishly, obviously annoyed with his cousin.

"I'm hungry!" Rem turned her attention to the Hobbits at the admission. His statement was something she could relate to.

"You're always hungry, Pip." Rem mused aloud. Frodo suddenly got up, and scrambled over to Gandalf. The two began speaking in hushed tones. She ignored them, well aware of the subject of their discussion. She kept her gaze on her companions, having no desire to espy Gollum below. Otherwise it promised for an entourage of further nightmares that might involve falling and slippery creatures that evolved from the dark. Forcing herself not to shiver, she went about pretending he didn't exist, focusing on the apprehensive Hobbits.

"I don't really blame you, though…" she admitted, noting how Merry and Pippin seemed to relax as she attempted civil conversation. "…I'm hungry enough to eat calamari. And I haven't eaten that stuff in years." She sighed. Back before she had worked at the grocery store and began handling meat,she had actually been rather fond of sea food.

"What's that?" Samwise asked quietly, perplexed.

"Fried and breaded squid…kind of like our 'friend' from the black lake out there," she waved her hand airily in the direction she imagined the Watcher and the one-time hidden entrance to Moria lay. Merry wrinkled his nose, and Pippin seemed a little disgusted as well at the prospect.

"You'd eat that stuff?" She grinned at him.

"Coming from you, that's quite the statement."

"What's it taste like?" Samwise cut in, having the decency to mimic curiosity for politeness' sake.

"Kind spicy, if it's prepared right…" She drifted off, wondering if the Watcher actually was a squid. Or maybe some type of Octopus? The Hobbits seemed to ponder her words, and Samwise shook his head.

"Whatever makes you happy, I guess…" Pippin muttered, scratching his head. The others nodded in agreement. An encouraging sound interrupted their thoughts.

"Oh!...It's that way." Merry stashed away his pipe, smiling broadly toward Gandalf.

"He's remembered!" Rem dragged herself up as well, and the others followed suite.

"No," admitted Gandalf, the crusty compilation of ease evident in his voice, "but the air doesn't smell so foul down here…" He smiled, "If in doubt, Meriadoc, always follow your nose."

"Especially if it leads you to Fruit Loops," Rem couldn't resist mumbling. Legolas gave her an odd look, apparently the only one that overhead her private rumination. Pointedly keeping a straight face, she followed after their friends, secretly wishing she really did have a bowl of that cereal…Or even Fruity Cheerios, for that matter…She almost tripped again, bringing nearly all of her thought processes to a halt.

Fuck that…I'd sooner exchange this stupid dress for a t-shirt and jeans! Reining in her pride, she kept walking and pretended she hadn't lost her footing for the umpteenth time.


A/N: Aldis is an Old English name which means 'battle-seasoned'…I added the 'ra' part for some flair…I think Boromir could fall for a girl with a strong will and fighting spirit.

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