Chapter 11

Mel didn't know how long she sat there, watching the Ents come steadily out of the trees, more than she could have imagined, more than she could count! But finally she detected the sounds of movement behind her and she managed to tear her eyes away just in time to see Boromir sheathe his sword and adjust his shield on his back.

He glanced up and caught her watching him, but dropped his eyes quickly, adjusting a strap that held his shield in place.

"I am going down. Stay here."

Mel's mouth dropped open, but her astonishment only lasted about half a second before it turned into raging indignation.

"Oh, hell no!" she shouted, scrambling to her feet, "There is no way, no way you are going down there without me!"

"You will be safe, Melody. I am only going for a moment."

"Safe my ass! Screw safe! I am not hiding up here!"

Boromir sighed, his head bowed.

"Melody, I can't put you in danger. I can't do that."

"You aren't putting me in danger," Mel said, picking her way through the rocks, being careful not to cut her feet, "I'm putting me in danger. So you're completely off the…"

He whirled around so fast that Mel stumbled back a step.

"Do you think that by allowing you to take on the burden of the decision, my responsibility lessens?" he snapped, "I saved your life, Melody! I would like to keep you alive long enough to get you home!"

Boromir jerked back as the words left his mouth, his eyes wide, mouth slightly agape, as if he couldn't believe what he had just said. Mel felt like she'd had the breath knocked out of her. She swallowed to dislodge the lump that was forming in her throat.

"Home?" she whispered hoarsely, a knot of anxiety forming in her chest, "What home? Boromir, I… I can't go home. Is…" She almost couldn't force the words out, "Is that what you want? To send me home?"

The thought that he didn't want her with him was almost unbearable. It flung her back into the unpredictable world of the Fellowship, a world of uncertainty, never knowing for sure how he felt or what he thought, how much of his actions were his own and how many were controlled by the Ring. But in this new world, the Ring was gone. His actions were completely his. What did he mean when he said he wanted to get her home? What could he mean, except heart-wrenching separation? He wanted to take her someplace and leave her there, never to interfere with his life again. What else could he mean?

She felt tears burning in her eyes, but she blinked them away. She wouldn't cry. If he didn't want her, she would live with it. She wouldn't force sympathy from him.

But Boromir's face had changed from shocked to horrified, with a tinge of desperation.

"Oh Melody, no…" he whispered, lifting his hand as if to reach for her, but then dropping it again, "No, I… I meant my home."

Her brow creased in confusion. Why would he leave her in Minas Tirith? Or maybe he just meant Gondor and he was going to drop her off in some small, out of the way village. That had to be it. He would leave her with some nice peasant family in the country somewhere and then ride off into the sunset, never to be seen or heard from again. Quite a fairy tale ending, like those old Westerns her uncle used to love so much…

Boromir was still staring at her, as if waiting for her reaction. Did he feel bad for breaking the news to her this way? Was he afraid she was going to break down into hysterics? She certainly felt like it, but she wasn't really that kind of girl.

"Melody, I promised you I would show you Minas Tirith," he said, slowly, carefully, as if afraid she might spook, "I will keep my word to you. If I can keep you alive long enough to see it."

He would show her Minas Tirith. That had to mean that he would be with her, at least for a little while longer. Mel felt a weight lift off her chest and she gulped in a deep breath, clinging to those words and trying to make what had preceded them vanish from her memory. She scrambled to change the subject, trying to backtrack to what they had been talking about before her world had started to crumble around her.

"I'm still going down there."

Boromir's shoulders sagged and a smile tugged at his lips.

"Are we to sit here bickering like children instead?"

But Mel was ignoring him now. She had found her pack instead and dug to the bottom, pulling out an extra pair of shoes and shoving them onto her feet. They didn't fit as well as her boots had, but they were certainly better than nothing at all. Eregwen really had packed for everything. It was uncanny.

Mel reached for her cloak, but her fingers had barely brushed the wool and Boromir snatched it out of her grasp.

"You are not going!" he insisted, "You have no way of defending yourself!"

"I'm not going to fight anyone!" she exclaimed, grabbing the cloak and tugging at it, "I just want to be there!"

"For what?" Boromir asked, pulling back on the cloak, "What purpose will it serve? You're putting yourself in harm's way for nothing!"

"Those are my friends down there!" she shouted, "They need me!"

"Melody, you are no longer the Daughter of Yavanna!"

She froze, stunned.

"The Daughter of Yavanna… Where did you hear that?"

The shock loosened her grip on the cloak and Boromir pulled it from her hands, his eyes downcast as he wadded the fabric up in his hands.

"It doesn't matter. The point is I am not going to allow you to run headlong into a pit of destruction while I chase along behind, trying to keep you alive."

She glared at him, "What are you, my jailer? You can't tell me what I can and cannot do!"

"Melody…"

But Boromir's argument was interrupted by the loud crack of rock. They both glanced down the mountain. The Ents had reached the walls of Isengard and were ripping them down with their long fingers, pulling the stones from the very earth they were embedded in.

Mel caught a glimpse of Boromir's shocked face and saw her chance. She snatched her cloak from his frozen fingers and tossed it over her shoulders as she made a mad dash for the mountainside, vaulting over the edge of the rocks that sheltered them. She heard him cry out her name and the sound of him scrambling after her, but she ignored it. She skidded down the side of the mountain, leaping from rock to rock, barely keeping her balance in her rush. She was lucky that she didn't break her neck, but all she could think about was getting down there, if she could just make it to Isengard, if she could find Merry and Pippin, then she could convince the Ents that she was the Calenhiril and they would demand the Yavannacor back from Saruman. Everything would be alright. She just had to find the hobbits.

She hit flat ground and pushed into a run. She could still hear Boromir pursuing her. She lengthened her stride until her legs burned. Once they were both on even terrain there was no way she could outrun him. She just had to reach the shattered gates before he caught up with her. She had to find Merry and Pippin!

Her eyes stayed fixed on the broken walls in front of her, but her ears listened to Boromir's footfalls. He was catching up. She pushed herself harder. Her body was screaming in protest, but the walls were right in front of her. She was almost there. She focused all her energy on one point, a clear path inside Isengard through the fallen stone and shattered wood. With one final lunge, she burst through the ruined walls. She had made it. She was inside.

She skidded to a stop. Her eyes widened and she realized that she had just made a horrible mistake. A group of at least ten orcs turned toward her, blocking her way. Their eyes lit up at the sight of her and they shuffled forward, cackling at her idiocy. She reached in her belt and pulled out Boromir's dagger, the one she had used to cut off her hair, but she knew it was practically useless. She was outnumbered and exhausted from the chase down the mountain. She couldn't outrun them and she couldn't fight them. She was dead before she even started.

Then a horn sounded, a long, loud blast as clear as a deep bell that shook her to the core. It echoed off the mountains and swirled through Isengard like a wind. The orcs paused.

Boromir leapt past her and cut down three before they even had a chance to react. The rest had barely lifted their weapons before he was on top of them, whirling through their midst, dodging and cutting, black blood spraying from fresh wounds. They were all dead in a matter of minutes. Mel stood and watched him, paralyzed with horror and awe. How could he be so fast?

When they all lay dead at his feet, he spun and grabbed her arm.

"Are you alright?"

His eyes were hard as gray stones and his jaw was set like marble. Mel was afraid. Her vocal cords felt like they had been cut so she simply nodded. Instantly, his expression softened and his grip on her arm relaxed, but only minutely.

"Stars, Melody, you are such a stubborn woman."

He glanced around and pulled her closer to him.

"Come. If you insist on being here, perhaps you could at least stay out of the middle of everything."

He pressed them close to the inner perimeter of the wall and together they started edging their way around. Mel held her cloak close around her and tried to make herself seem as small as possible, but at the same time she couldn't help peering up at every Ent they crept past, searching it's branches for any sign of Merry and Pippin. But even in the glow from the fires the orcs had built to protect themselves, it was hard to tell real from shadow. And Boromir moved too quickly for a second look.

Suddenly Mel heard a cry, deep and creaking, like trees bending in a storm, and her head shot up, searching the chaotic courtyard. Boromir tugged on her arm, but she ignored him. She had heard… There. An Ent, tied with ropes, struggling against his orc captors. The sight made her blood boil and her heart race.

"Melody, we can't help him," Boromir said, pulling at her arm again, "There are too many of them."

She whirled on him, her eyes flashing, "You don't even want to try!"

She hadn't meant to sound so accusing. After all what could they do? But the ropes around the Ent's limbs and his pleading cries made her uncontrollably angry. Her chest was tight and her head was pounding and she could barely think through it. She turned back to the struggling creature and watched helplessly as the orcs pulled him down. As the impact of his fall rumbled through the earth beneath her feet, she felt something inside her throb.

Saruman leaned over his balcony, watching as the Ent captured by his orcs struggled uselessly. He grinned to himself. The Ents were incapable of overcoming his power, even with most of his army out to war. He was an unstoppable force. But as the Ent crashed down and the earth vibrated with the blow, he felt a pulse of raw power ripple from his pocket. The force made his bones shudder and his heart skip a beat. The ring… the Yavannacor! He pulled it out of his robe. The emerald was glowing in his palm and as he peered more closely, he felt the metal start to warm. Before he could blink the gold was glowing red with a searing heat. The pain startled him and his hand jerked. The ring fell from his fingers, hit the rail of the balcony with a resounding clang, and tumbled away into the dark below.

"Useless…" the wizard mumbled.

But he couldn't help feeling a twinge of unease.

Something glittered. Mel almost didn't see it. But she felt it. Something had glittered off the balcony of Orthanc. Something had fallen.

"Yavannacor…" she whispered.

She wrenched her arm free of Boromir and rushed toward the tower.

"Melody, wait!" Boromir yelled, chasing after her, "Foolish woman, what are you doing?"

"Yavannacor!" she shouted in answer, still running, without even a glance back.

She felt the pressure in her chest throb again and she knew. It was the Yavannacor. It was calling her. It was waiting. Somewhere in the dark at the base of the tower, the Yavannacor waited for her. She ran, brushing past orcs, barely noticing them, dodging huge moving tree trunks that threatened to crush her underfoot, her eyes locked on the spot directly below the tower balcony.

Yavannacor…

Pippin cheered as Treebeard tossed a boulder as big as a wagon, flattening the orcs that had tied down the other Ent.

"Did you see that, Merry?" he shouted, turning toward his cousin.

But something caught his eye, something small below, and vaguely familiar, a figure racing across the open ground of Isengard. In the dim light from the fires, he could see that its cloak was green with glints of gold and it looked nothing like an orc. And someone was chasing it.

"Melody, wait!"

Pippin's eyes widened. Could it be?

"Merry!" he cried, "Merry!"

"What, Pip?" Merry's arm was in the air, rock poised to throw.

"Merry, it's Mel!"

"Have you lost your marbles? You're seeing things!" Merry said, reluctantly looking in the direction his cousin was pointing.

"It's her, Merry! I heard her name!" Pippin exclaimed excitedly, "And I think Boromir is following her!"

Merry rolled his eyes, "Pip, even if it were Mel, she would be running away from Isengard, not toward it!"

"Mel, look out!" Pip cried.

Before Merry could stop him, Pippin lobbed a rock at an orc that had tried to stab the running figure in the back. He hit it square between the eyes and the orc dropped.

"Pip, what are you doing?" Merry cried, "We don't know that's Mel!"

"It is Mel! I know it!" Pippin took another rock and threw it, knocking another pursuing orc on his back, "Merry, trust me! They're gonna kill her!"

Merry glanced down. That was Mel's cloak. He could see it from here. And even if it wasn't Mel wearing it, that was no orc darting between the trunk-like legs of the Ents. And he trusted Pippin. Merry got a better grip on the rock he held and hurled it at the head of another orc that had turned in pursuit.

Boromir flew after Melody, cursing under his breath. What had possessed her? Did she think she was just going to storm up the steps of Orthanc and demand that her damned ring be returned to her? That had been the last word she had uttered. Yavannacor. Surely she had not lost all her wits! He followed her, dodging the orcs and trees. But one orc did not ignore her passing as the others did. He turned, weapon drawn and Boromir felt his heart stop. He would not reach her in time. The orc had her, poised to strike. Boromir was going to be forced to watch her die.

Suddenly, a rock flew out of nowhere and clanged into the orc's helmet. He dropped where he stood. Boromir ran by, still following Melody, but now he was wary. Rocks did not just drop from the sky with such precision. As he watched, another orc turned to pursue her and he too was knocked on his back by a rock to the head. Boromir's eyes glanced skyward. Were the Valar protecting her? After all that had happened, not much seemed impossible to him anymore. Another pursuing orc was felled by a rock and dropped across his path. Boromir nimbly leapt over the obstacle, but his eyes had finally glimpsed where the aid was coming from. High in the branches of one of the Ents sat two tiny forms, too small to be anymore than children. Was it…? Could it be…?

But he had no time to ponder the little figures in the treetops. He turned his eyes back to the path and felt a wave of overwhelming panic wash over him. Melody had disappeared. He shot forward, his eyes frantically searching for a glimpse of her green cloak. He was so busy searching for her that he almost tripped over her. He skidded to a stop. She was on her knees in the dirt, crawling around on all fours, muttering to herself.

"I know it's here, I know it, I felt it! Where is it? Where?"

He reached out and gently touched her shoulder, "Melody…"

She jumped and scrambled away from him.

"No!" she shrieked, "It's here, I saw it, stay away!"

He didn't move, wary of this new Melody, fierce and coiled like a wild cat. He had only seen this one other time and he had almost erased it from his memory, sure that it was caused by fever and delirium. But her eyes were the same as they had been when he rescued her.

Where's Boromir? What did you do to him?!

…my Boromir would save me, save all of me…

…he's dead and you killed him… killed him and took his face…

He could feel the hurt that her words had caused welling up inside of him as fresh as if she had just spoken them aloud. And his own doubt clawed its way to the forefront of his mind. Was this what he would have done before, stopped her, held her back, all in the name of her safety? Who was he, if not the man she remembered?

Mel scrambled to her feet and skittered away, eyes on the ground, still searching and mumbling to herself. Boromir watched her and felt a pain in his chest, even deeper than the pain he'd felt at her words. He couldn't let her continue like this. He had to do something!

But just as he took a step to act on his decision, Melody paused. He paused with her, watching, wondering what she was doing now, what she was thinking. Then she leaped forward and Boromir was right behind her, determined to stop her this time, to stop this madness before it took root and changed her into something… But as his hand brushed the hem of her cloak she bent into the dirt and snatched something up, nimbly dancing away from his fingers. She turned to him, her face glowing.

"Told you it was here."

Between her thumb and forefinger was a gold ring. It was covered in grime, but Boromir could still see that she was right. It was the Yavannacor.

He reached out to her, gently, pleadingly.

"Melody, wait…"

But she took a deep breath and jammed the ring on her scarred finger.