Author's Note: Yeah, the title's correct. I bring my meek little fanfic to a close. Is it un-meek to call something meek? Well I do. I figure that the story was waiting to be finished a while ago.
I put lots of references to books and movies alike, so maybe you can catch those. I'm putting more in this chapter. I wanted to continue the story, but it wanted to end. It spoke to me the other day, you know. It was all like, "I'm done."
So, enjoy! Thanks to everyone who reviewed, followed, favorited, viewed, and everything! This is for you all.
Update: IMPORTANT!: Yeah, I continued the story. And it sure will not give up on me. No worries, I performed loads of C.P.R! ;)
Chapter 10: This is the End
I looked at the horizon of Rohan uneasily. As we ran, not only my weariness grew. A sort of queasiness grew in my stomach, and spread evermore.
My companions started to take less and less notice of me, and soon enough I could not understand their speech. It turned from English to Westron, and I started to feel like I was just another used-up fanfiction plot device.
We ran and ran, and soon enough, we stopped. The moon had risen behind the cloaking cover of cloud, and Aragorn could no longer see the Uruk's tracks, and so we rested for the night in the rocky land of the Emyn Muil.
I took the chance to see what exactly was wrong with me.
I punched Aragorn in the stomach with my right hand.
He didn't even look in my general direction as I jumped up and down, my hand bleeding and in pain. How insulting. Why was it bleeding, though? Oh, right. My stupid ring.
I took my glove off and looked at the damage. Were knuckles supposed to turn sideways? I bit back a whimper as I pulled the ring off.
I noticed that the green color of the emerald was fading. What?
As the night went on, I poked and prodded the ring, trying to make it return to its original state.
The ring flashed suddenly as I threw it to the ground, exasperated. None of this made any sense!
OH. What was that that Galadriel's book said? I needed to believe in everything for my ring to work. So...what was I not believing in? Middle-Earth?
"It is whatever your mind can process, mortal. Your mind is overloading from all the grief you gave to Boromir's passing. Trust me, there is not too much space in your brain for much else, even without your pitiful thing you see as mourning. When elves mourn too much they fade. Silly mortals."
I opened my mouth to argue with Merilieth, and then felt the queasiness in my stomach increase. Well, if only I had done something to help Boromir... But maybe that was the thinking that got me into the mess I was in in the first place. If I wanted to stay in Middle-Earth...possibly stay alive...I couldn't afford to feel guilty for things out of my control.
Or I could start making things under my control. That was certainly a start, right?
Right.
As the night drew on, and the moon started to dip, I gave myself a pep talk, literally. I gave lots of space in between inspirational phrases for Merilieth to step in, but she never did. After all, if I was out of the picture, she would have her body back. That was good for her, but bad for me.
As the sky faded from midnight blue, and shades of violet and a dark red danced along the horizon, I felt the queasiness in my stomach start to go away. It wasn't my fault that Boromir died, right? It was Saruman's fault, it was the Ring's fault, it was the fault of the Gift of Men, mortality.
Mortality. Boromir would have died no matter what happened on the Quest, no matter how much Numenorean blood he had in him.
It wasn't my fault.
"Merilieth, come."
My head jerked up in surprise, and I hastily replaced my glove after Aragorn's voice addressed me, when he had not for the last three or so days.
Merilieth sighed. "So I do not get my body back?"
I nodded, a smile plastered on my face, and as I ran on, I thought, "No more. This is the end of my grief. No more deaths."
The Mirror of Galadriel and what I saw on its reflective surface played back in my mind.
But the future was never really certain.
Author's Note: Disclaimer: This is a FanFiction from the Lord of the Rings world, created and trademarked by J.R.R. Tolkien. The characters, settings, and anything created by J.R.R. Tolkien are not my own and I do not claim ownership to any of them. This is a FanFiction I made with nothing to do with J.R.R. Tolkien, and is for entertainment purposes only: I am not profiting financially from this work, which may or may not be canonical. Thanks to J.R.R. Tolkien for making the world of The Lord of the Rings, for without it, many people would be un-enlightened to the genius of Lord of the Rings and J.R.R. Tolkien and the following FanFiction would never have been made, and I would have no life. Credits from most dialogue and setting to Peter Jackson, one of the best directors ever.
