DISCLAIMER: The characters and locations of Lord of the Rings do not belong to me. They belong to JRR Tolkien, New Line Cinema, and probably a host of other people I've forgotten. I'm only borrowing them for a little entertainment, and I'll put them back when I'm finished with them. Amareth, however, belongs to me and I would like to be consulted before she is used in any other works. Evendim and Ithil-valon have standing permission to use any of my characters in any fics they choose. Celos and Celon are used with Ithil-valon's permission.

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WARNING! This story is set in an alternate universe. This means that some of the features, faces, and places might differ slightly from the original. This is intentional and WILL NOT result in canon characters behaving in out of character ways.

THIS STORY IS NOT A MARY SUE. If you want one of those, please look elsewhere. I don't care for Mary Sues, and I don't write them. It does, however, feature an original character in a starring role. She is not superwoman, she is not God, and she is not irresistible. She's just plain human, with all our faults and strengths.

THIS STORY IS ALSO NON-SLASH.

DEDICATIONS: To Evendim, who first gave me the courage to post in this fandom and has given me such pleasure with her own AU series. I would never have been so bold without your help, thank you from the bottom of my heart. To Ithil-valon, who has been more than a loyal friend and has helped me through some really tough times of late, and who has been the best beta-reader anyone could ask for. And to AJ, without whom my life will be a lot poorer. Rest well, my darling. You are sorely missed.

Love the story? Hate it? Think I should be burned at the stake? I'll never know unless you review!

Part Eleven

Elladan caught Amareth as she fell sideways and lowered her gently the rest of the way to the ground. Elrohir put a gentle hand on Boromir's chest as the Man opened his eyes and made as if to rise. "Easy, Man of Gondor," he said quietly. "Rest a moment. You have returned from a great journey and will need to rebuild your strength."

"How?" Boromir's voice was rough, though it cleared quickly. Then his face paled and he made to rise again, making it to a seated position before he had to catch his breath. "The little ones. Uruk-hai took the little ones. Where is Aragorn?"

Elrohir looked over to his brother and received a small nod which eased his mind greatly. He had feared for Amareth as well as the Gondorian when she collapsed. "Aragorn follows the Uruk-hai," he said firmly. "Frodo and Sam have continued their journey alone. The Fellowship is broken, but all is not lost."

Boromir turned slightly to regard Elladan as he covered Amareth with soft greenery. "She sleeps," he said simply and Boromir gave a nod. "And the life of this place will restore her." He indicated the nearly invisible web of light that surrounded her, seemingly holding her to the ground. "It was a great effort."

"How did you come here, how was I healed?" Boromir asked again after he had drunk deeply of the flask Elrohir provided. "My wounds were mortal. There was no mistaking it. How then do I live?" He turned to watch Elladan with the woman and realized several things quickly: first, she was no Elf, she was of the race of Men, just as himself. Had she somehow brought him back from death? Impossible! And yet, the gossamer sheen of the energy surrounding her spoke of things beyond his ken.

"Amareth healed you," Elrohir replied simply as he checked over his brother's handiwork. She would stay warm while she rested and she seemed to have taken no permanent harm from her exertions, but something still teased the back of his mind. "She has a great gift, as you have seen. But she is not invincible; she must rest to regain the strength she passed to you. As you must rest to regain what health she was unable to return to you."

Boromir simply watched her for a moment. He couldn't help assessing her as a threat. He had soldiered far too long to accept anyone at face value, and for a moment he was disgusted with himself for the thought. She had healed him, brought him back from death itself, how then could she be a threat to him? But still, he wondered.

She was slight, almost thin, but strong. He could see her strength in the line of her jaw, the set of her shoulders under the brush. Her skin was the color of honey, her hair true black, not the washed out, faded deep brown of the Haradrim, and he wondered again at their timely arrival. How long had it been? How long had he been out of action? And if she wasn't Haradrim, where had she come from?

"A day's rest will set both of you right," Elladan explained as he set about making a rough camp. The humans would need warmth against the coming night, and there were plans to make. "And allow time to answer the questions I see in your eyes."

Boromir nodded slowly. Yes, there were questions to be asked and answered and he had to make a plan before he could begin to atone for his mistakes. Still, he itched to be on the move, following Aragorn. His faith in the Ranger had been firmly placed after the moment on the slopes of Amon Hen. He had pledged himself to Aragorn's cause, and to that he would hold, even if it meant he must die again. He would not forsake his honor again.

"Tell me what you know, then, and let us begin," he said evenly.

TBC...