As I'm sure you are all aware, this story is drawing to a close very soon. There'll be I think another two or so chapters after this, and then it's done...and yes, I have finally decided on my ending. I hope it does not disappoint :) Please, as always, read, review, and come back for more!
Disclaimer: I own none of LOTR - it is entirely Tolkien's genius. And any dialogue and such from the movies are credit to P. Jackson and Co.
The river of Anduin was swift and strong, carrying them with ease down it's great length. Little need did they have for the oars with their boats but still they did use them, for a comfort they seemed. Alandria grew more at ease in the small boat, content listening to the hobbit's cheerful talk, until it died away. The beauty of the lands they passed ceased even the most talkative of peoples, it seemed, and left them all watching in awe as their boats passed. On and on they were carried, and when darkness fell they ceased for but a short while on the shores. The darkness fell quickly, and Aragorn allowed the hobbits to light a low fire. They ate, and laid down to rest until their watch came. Alandria found the dark shore an uneasy place for rest, but after a long while, drifted to a restless sleep.
Not long after, however, she was woken with a murmur of voices. Quietly, she raised herself to her elbows, listening intently and peering through the faint moonlight. She made out the silhouttes of the two men, standing beside each other and facing the large lake. Their words were too soft to understand, but she turned her eyes to the point in the lake they stared at so intently. Her brows furrowed in confusion, her eyes narrowing in hope to see better. A dark shape floated on the lake, seeming to be part of a log except that it moved from time to time. Whatever it was, surely it could not be good? Perhaps it was working for Saruman, or worse? And how long had it been watching them, following them? The Ring Bearer and Samwise were speaking quietly nearby but she paid them no heed, interested only in the strange thing watching their company. She moved to get up, to go over and ask the conversing men if they knew what the creature was, but the increased volume in their soft murmur stalled her. Further causing her to hesitate was when the Ranger turned to step away, only to have the Gondorian grasp his shirt and pull him back to face him.
"You are afraid!" She heard the deep voice of Boromir accuse the dark-haired man. "...hidden in the shadows...of who you are.." His words were still too quiet, and as Aragorn leaned closer to his challenger to reply, she forced herself to her feet.
She approached loudly, hoping to silence them and forewarn of her coming. Aragorn looked over his shoulder at her, then glanced back at Boromir before striding away without a word. She watched him leave, then turned her attention to the weary man before her. He met her gaze for but a moment before pulling away and turning back to the lake. "What is that?" She asked softly, gesturing to the thing on the water.
"Gollum. Aragorn says it has been following us since Moria."
"Creature of Saruman?"
"Of Mordor." He replied, turning with a heavy sigh and settling onto a low rock.
"Are you alright, my lord?"
He ran a hand over his face, his features drawn and tired, pale eyes refusing to meet her gaze and filled with something she did not understand. "I am weary of this journey. Already it seems too far we have walked."
"We have further yet to travel, my lord."
"Indeed we do." He sighed, before glancing up at her for a short moment, features still restless. "I am sorry if we woke you. We were just..negotiating the path of our journey."
"Negotiating?" She smiled faintly but he did not return it, did not even look at her.
"The Ranger will not go to Minas Tirith." He dropped his head, gazing down at the gloved hands in his lap. "He does not trust his own kind."
Unchecked sympathy flooded her system, and she settled beside him. "Lord Aragorn is just wary, as we all should be. No matter the path, the Ring needs only to get to Mordor. That is our destination."
"I know that, my lady." He sighed heavily, eyes still on his lap. "It is just difficult. How am I supposed to hold onto hope, if our very own leader of the Fellowship does not have it?"
"Aragorn has hope, my lord."
"But he does not have faith, or trust, in the world of Men. Does he not see that our kind is what is set to be destroyed? Yet he will not have faith in his own people! Our own people."
Alandria had lowered her green eyes as well, studying the dark terrain as the soldier spoke, before gently - carefully - taking one of the gloved hands cradled in his lap in her own warm grasp. He raised his head to look at her in question, but she did not meet his gaze, only held his hand with both of hers. "I have faith, my lord, in you and Lord Aragorn and the world of Men....Does that comfort you?"
He did not answer for a moment and she grew uncomfortable in the silence, fearing her actions and words were too much. Her grass-green eyes met up with his blue-grey gaze, and the faintest of smiles touched his features, the only sign she had yet seen of the true Boromir, but at the same time it seemed forced, almost like a mask. "Aye," He murmured richly, eyes never leaving her face. "It does." Her eyes fluttered shut when his warm mouth pressed gently against hers, and her tense muscles softened against him. Her hands still held his one, and his free hand raised to cradle the side of her face tenderly, fingertips pressing into her hair, before their lips broke apart. Still, his face was close to hers and his faint smile returned as he gazed at her, less mask-like this time but still not perfect. He closed his eyes for a moment, pressing his lips to her forehead and then her lips, her cheek, her neck, before he paused, just breathing against her skin.
Alandria felt small shivers convulse across her skin in time with his hot breath, and her body felt irrationally as if it were ablaze, her limbs weak. She didn't understand the sensations and only trembled again when the Gondorian's lips pressed once more to her neck. "It does indeed comfort me to hear you have faith, my lady Alandria." Her breathing hitched uncomfortably when he spoke, gusts of breath sweeping over her flushed skin. "I feel so alone these past days. I feel as if there is a madness inside I cannot control or be rid of. Always it is there...does that make sense, my lady?" He raised his face back to level with hers, mildly stormy eyes watching intently.
"Aye, my lord." She nodded slightly, small tremors still sturring her skin. "Are you sure you are alright though? Since Moria you seem different, if you don't mind my saying so, and more so since the Lady Galadriel spoke to us..in..." Her words trailed off as a hardness came to the soldier's features and, briefly, his eyes glinted darkly at the mention of the Lady of the Golden Wood. "I am sorry, it's only that-"
"No, no, I understand my lady." He abruptly removed his hand that was still in her hold, and put distance between them again. "It is just as I have said, I am weary. Please, go back to sleep. One of us at least must rest." His grey-blue eyes met hers for a moment, tired and soft once more, before changing and looking away.
She bit her lip, not understanding and fighting not to question him, then slowly rose and stepped away. "Good night, my lord."
When the light came, they were off again, and Alandria longed for the deep, soft speech of the Gondorian to fill her ears. He had grown quieter in the passing hours they traveled the river, and she had heard no word from him yet that day. Uneasy in the now harsh silence, she gently pleaded and persuaded the soldier to talk, to speak of his country, and once again he fascinated her with his mysterious land she longed to know. True, Rohan had long been allied with Gondor, but the need for allies had not been had in many years. Until recently, and yet the King Thèoden had not been well enough to respond to any cry for help that might have come. Never had Alandria seen the White City, and she marveled at the autumn-haired man's description of it.
"My lady, look!" He whispered, and she glanced back at him in alarm as his words broke her thoughts, and saw him staring towards the sky in awe. She turned back, and felt her breath catch. Before them were perched two grand stone statues, one on each side of the river. They were both equally tall - hundreds of feet high - and equally beautiful, in the way only ancient things can be. One stood with his hand resting on the cliffs beside him, the other grasping his sword. Both had their other hand outstretched, protecting the Fellowship's path past them. They stood tall and proud, seemingly untouched by the thousands of years they must have been standing, each wearing a crown of stone atop his head.
"The Kings of Cair Gornath, ancient men of old. Long have they stood to protect the river. Longer still shall they stand." Boromir's voice was but a warm murmur to the backdrop of fascination Alandria felt, the magnificence of the grand, ancient statues nearly overbearing.
"They're beautiful." She breathed and she heard a soft sigh behind her.
"Aye, beautiful indeed." A strong hand touched her shoulder and squeezed gently, before quickly releasing as he continued to paddle onward. She glanced down from the tall stone figures and felt a heat across her cheeks, but soon forgot it and had her gaze drawn back to the Kings. Silence fell over the company from then on, yet soon they found themselves amidst an immense lake, and Alandria could see the mist of the Falls of Rauros in the distance, confirmed when their faint rumble met her ears. Aragorn signaled to the two boats behind him that they were to turn towards the shore, and soon they came upon the rocky bank of Amon Hen. Boromir, Aragorn, and Legolas each jumped out of their boats, wading in the shallow shore's water and pulling the wooden rafts further onto the shore, until stabled. The rest of the company leapt out and the boats were drug even further up the bank, until they were completely out of the water.
"Make yourselves comfortable, gentlemen - and lady." Aragorn announced. "We cross the lake at nightfall. Hide the boats, and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the North." Alandria turned away as the Dwarf began to challenge the Ranger, listing the difficult terrain they would come upon, and obviously worrying the hobbits. Aragorn replied simply, then stepped away to let them unpack themselves, but Alandria did not miss the quiet words Legolas whispered to the Ranger. Aragorn gave a reply, and it did not seem to be the one the Elf wanted. He gazed into the dark forest, fair features hard and attentive.
"Lady Alandria." She was shaken back to attention by the deep voice of the Steward's son, and turned to his handsome face. "The hobbits are setting to make dinner. Please, drop your things and join me in company by their fire?"
She smiled gently, distracted, and nodded before following him to a large tree and setting down her sword beside his shield. He dropped to the ground heavily, sighing, and she settled beside him more gently. His smile was broad, charming, and it eased the unknowing worry she felt. Her eyes traced over each line and curve of his face as if by their own accord, taking in yet again the square of his jaw, line of his nose, broad forehead, curve of his brows, the pale sky-grey of his eyes, the autumn-red of his long hair and short beard. He stared back at her with ease, until she became uncomfortable, and looked away. His presence was pressing, warm and protective, but he sat beside her silently, watching the hobbits intently.
Sam had set about immediately making a fire, with the eager help of Merry and Pippin. They'd all relieved themselves of the weapons and heavy packs, digging out food and meal dishes quickly. Sam was quiet, speaking only soft orders to the other two about how to watch what they were doing, yet they hardly seemed to pay attention. Nothing could subdue Merry and Pippin's spirits it seemed, for they were still joking and laughing even as the rest of the camp remained silent. Only then did Alandria notice the Ring Bearer was not among them. She glanced around, thinking to see him standing somewhere nearby. But no, she did not see him. She did not panic, did not voice her worries aloud. Why, she did not know, for it would have been thought wise to alert the camp of Frodo's disappearance, wouldn't it? But something stopped her, kept her words inside her head. She glanced at the powerful man beside her, silent and stoic. The one you believe to be strong is weakening. She turned away and carefully rose to her feet.
"My lady?" The Gondorian's voice was soft, deep and rich, stalling her with his question.
"I'm only going for a walk, my lord."
"May I join?" He began to rise.
"No!" She whirled to cease his movements, then stopped herself, seeing his surprised expression. "No, thank you, lord. I wish to think alone, please."
He nodded slowly, pale eyes observing her with confusion. "Aye, as you wish." She bowed her head, then turned away once more with a shaky breath. Her sudden wariness of the soldier confused her, the sudden attentiveness to the Lady Galadriel's words only now stalling her actions for a reason she did not understand. Perhaps there was one who would. She strode quietly into the trees, keeping her ears and eyes sharp until she came to her destination.
"My lord?" She introduced herself politely, and bowed slightly when the dark-haired man faced her. He returned her bow, light eyes tired.
"Yes, my lady?"
"I..I wish to speak with you, if you do not mind my company."
"No, lady, not at all."
"Thank you, my lord. Lord Aragorn, may I ask, do you feel a...difference, in the Fellowship?"
His light eyes glanced at her in faint confusion. "Do you?"
"I do not know. The company seems more...tense, I think. The air is tight."
He nodded, watching the woods around them. "Things are changing, yes, I feel it too. But I do not understand it." She nodded slowly in reply, taking his answer with unease and watching the land around them uncomfortably. "What is it that troubles you?" He turned his attention to her, watching and listening intently, all the while still another part of him watched the forest.
"I do not rightly know, sir, only that there is a feeling of unease I cannot shake. I do not like these woods."
"Neither does Legolas." He replied, sighing softly. "I would not stay with such premonitions from you of the company, but orcs patrol the eastern shore, and the hobbits are tired. Especially Frodo. He has not fully recovered from the loss of Gandalf." His words softened, his blue-green eyes tinted with pain.
"My lord Aragorn, that is another trouble I have to voice - the Ring Bearer. Do you know where he is?"
The man tilted his head slightly in confusion, brows pulling together. "But he is with you and the hobbits."
A shiver of worry ran through her being. "No lord, he is not."
The Ranger did not answer but to stare at her in fright for a moment, before brushing past her and crashing towards the camp. She followed quickly, nearly running into him as he stopped suddenly, staring at something. She followed his gaze, confused, until her eyes fell upon the red and silver shield of Gondor, leaning lone against a tree. Boromir was not to be seen.
"Stay here." Aragorn ordered, backing into the trees already. "I will find Frodo."
"Do not harm him!" She cried, trying to follow, but was stopped by Legolas. "He has done nothing. You do not know that he will do anything!"
The dark man of the North met her gaze for a moment, telling her just what he knew the Gondorian might do, and continued towards the woods. "Watch the camp, stay quiet." And he turned, disappearing.