Chapter 29
Despite Elladan's and Elrohir's constant reassurances, Mel had spent a restless night worrying over the mysterious conversation that neither Boromir nor Legolas had returned from. The guarded expression on Boromir's face had worried her so much that she had tried to slip away after them, but her guardians had waylaid her at the tent entrance and prevented her escape. They had insisted it was for the best. Mel hadn't been convinced.
But next morning, Mel woke up and discovered that her panic had somehow hardened into a stubborn resolve. The loss of the trees' voices at the edge of Ithilien, replaced by the seemingly endless expanse of the Morannon, had made her predictably edgy, but she was surprised by how much their anxious whisperings seemed to have been affecting her thoughts. For the first time in days, she felt clear-headed, despite her worry about what had happened in the night between the two most important people in her life.
And though she would never admit this to their faces, it seemed that the sons of Elrond had been right. Flanked on either side by Boromir and Legolas, Mel could sense something on the morning air, a tenuous feeling of truce, and she was more relieved than she could possibly put into words, even if she knew it couldn't possibly last. Legolas' words still haunted her (…what I love about you…), but she was having trouble finding time to speak to him alone. Even if she had been able to find the opportunity, she wasn't sure what she could say that wouldn't end in heartbreak and misery. She just couldn't make herself break the heart of her best friend, not now, not when any moment might be the last time she spoke to him.
She was almost certain now that her choice would come in front of the Black Gates. So many would die there, one more life, no matter how noble, would go almost unnoticed. Which meant that she had one more day before the choice was truly given to her, one more day to find some way out. There had to be a way. She couldn't face the thought of losing either one of them; stubbornly ignoring the possibility was the only thing keeping her sane.
By midday, Mel could hardly see even a hint of the tree line that they'd left behind and before them, barely a smudge on the horizon, loomed the dark mountains that separated Mordor from the plains. The Morannon was the darkest, most forbidding place Mel had ever seen. It made her feel isolated, though she road with an army of thousands, and added to it were the chills running in little ripples down her spine from the Nazgul high overhead. She wanted to reach out to Boromir, to feel him near her, to hear his heart beating in his chest and his voice whispering in her ear. But all day, Boromir had been distracted and distant. Though he stayed close to her side, his eyes told her that he was far away in his own thoughts. Legolas also stayed close by, even smiling and offering conversation on occasion, but he seemed to be keeping his distance from her too. Gimli occasionally attempted to bridge the gaps of silence from the back of Legolas' horse, but eventually even the dwarf seemed to run out of words. Mel was left feeling very lonely.
By the time they made camp, there was no sign of anything but broken black rock in all directions. At a loss for anything else to talk about at dinner, Pippin kept up a steady chatter about the rocks and the Morannon and whatever else he could think to speak about. In the midst of yet another observation about how very black it all was, Mel glanced up and caught sight of Boromir pulling both Elladan and Elrohir aside. It startled her so badly that she lost track of Pippin's voice, watching as Boromir leaned in to speak to her newly appointed guardians. Why was it that he seemed to have so much to say to everyone around her that he apparently did not want her to hear? Whatever it was, at least it seemed to sit well with the twins. They both grinned simultaneously and Elladan even clapped Boromir's shoulder as they murmured together. Boromir glanced up and briefly met her eyes. She smiled questioningly at him, and he returned her smile, but it was hesitant and... nervous. What was he nervous about?
"Mel?"
She blinked and turned her attention back to Pippin, who was smiling good-naturedly up at her.
"I lost you, didn't I?"
Mel smiled and gave his shoulder a friendly bump.
"Sorry Pip, I guess I just..."
"I am sorry to interrupt."
Boromir's voice suddenly so close made Mel jump. He was standing stiffly beside her, his hands clasped behind him, his eyes fixed on Pippin.
"Master Peregrin, I wonder if I might impose upon you to allow me a moment of Melody's time."
Pippin's eyes flicked back and forth between Boromir and Mel for several seconds. Then his youthful face broke into a wide grin.
"Oh! Yes, Boromir, of course, of course! I'll just… by your leave, my lady."
And with that the hobbit jumped out of his chair, bowed to each of them in turn (giving Mel an extra mischievous wink), and then vanished, slipping expertly through the gathering of Big Folk. Mel stared after him for several seconds, and then looked up at Boromir.
"What was that all about?" she asked, only half-joking.
Boromir blinked and looked down at her. He still seemed tense and nervous. Mel's smile faltered slightly.
"Boromir?"
"Would you like to take a walk with me this evening, Melody?"
It was Mel's turn to blink. They'd barely had a moment to themselves since leaving Minas Tirith, it seemed impossible that now, out of the blue, he should be asking her to take a walk of all things. What in the world…? But then Mel realized that she didn't care. She didn't care why he was asking, or why he was so nervous, or why now. All she wanted was to spend as much time with him as possible.
"Absolutely," she said, "I would love that."
Boromir's shoulders relaxed (but only a fraction) and he offered his hand, helping her to her feet. As he held aside the canvas for her to pass, Mel glanced back and caught Legolas' staring from across the crowded tent, but not at her. His eyes were fixed on Boromir, so intensely Mel thought it might burn holes through him. It wasn't a look that she could easily attribute an emotion too, but Boromir seemed to interpret it perfectly. He nodded once, solemnly, before he followed Mel outside, letting the flap fall closed over Legolas' face.
He offered Mel his arm and together they strolled slowly through the camp, passing tents and small fires. The night was quiet and for a while neither of them spoke, so Mel used the time to simply enjoy Boromir's company. She hadn't understood how intensely she'd missed this closeness. In the last few days she'd almost completely cut herself off, not even realizing she was doing it, the choice weighing so heavily on her mind that she'd almost forgotten why it was so difficult in the first place. She loved Boromir. And the last thing she wanted was to push him away.
"I'm sorry," she said impulsively.
Boromir jumped, as if he had not been expecting her voice.
"Why?" he asked, sounding genuinely puzzled.
"I've been so wrapped up in… in what I'm going through. I'm sorry I haven't been able to spend more time with you. I've missed you."
There was a pause while Boromir considered her words.
"Truthfully, I feel I should be the one making the apologies. I haven't made myself particularly available. So much has happened so quickly, and my attention so often demanded elsewhere, I fear that I have neglected you."
"I never felt neglected," she said softly, "I understand you're busy."
"All the same, I am sorry."
Mel nodded. They walked on a little farther. They were nearly to the edge of the camp now. Mel could hear the horses shifting restlessly in their makeshift lodgings and out of nowhere a stray thought popped into her head.
"Happy early birthday."
Boromir stopped and stared at her, his face a mixture of surprise and revelation. Mel realized that he had actually forgotten tomorrow was his birthday. The 25th of March. She could still remember the shock when he had revealed the information to her, that his birthday was on the same day that the power of Mordor would end.
"I didn't get you anything," she said, trying to fill the shocked silence that had fallen between them, "I haven't had time to think of a present. I'm sure I can fix that though, you know, once this is over and we're back home and I…"
He kissed her, cutting off her words and her breath, gentle but with a slight touch of desperation, as if he were pleading with her and still trying to savor the moment as much as possible. Mel felt her heart clench in her chest as she returned his kiss. She wanted to savor it too. It might be the last kiss they ever shared.
When they parted, Boromir pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes still closed, as if he were afraid to open them.
"I do not need a gift from you," he whispered breathlessly, "But there is something... I would like to ask."
Mel swallowed and waited, afraid to agree too quickly. If he asked her to turn back, she would have to refuse. She was pretty sure he wouldn't be that stupid, but she wasn't completely sure...
He took a deep breath and opened his eyes.
"Melody," he said, "I love you, so very much. I never thought I could feel this much for another. I didn't understand it until we met."
He paused. Then he reached for something on his belt, a pouch, and from it he pulled a small plain box. Mel had never seen it before, but the way Boromir held it, delicately in his large hands, she knew it was something special. But nothing could have prepared her for what happened next.
"No matter how long our time might be," Boromir said, "My only wish is to spend the rest of my life with you."
He opened the box, and for a split second time seemed to stand still. There was a ring inside. A beautiful ring of sapphire set in waves of silver. Mel couldn't remember how to breathe.
"Melody, would you do me the immense honor of becoming my wife?"
Her mind was racing and her heart was hammering and even though it felt like the world had come to a complete stop, it still felt like there wasn't enough time. Because Boromir was asking her to marry him. He was holding that ring, the most beautiful ring that Mel had ever seen, and asking her to be his wife, to share this wonderful world, his world with him. And in this brief millisecond of frozen time that was both too long and not long enough, she realized that there was nothing she wanted more.
"Yes," she said, finally able to pull enough air into her lungs to form words, "Yes, Boromir, I will."
She watched as all the anxiety, all the stiffness, all the nerves melted out of him in a single instant of pure relief, as if a great black cloud had been lifted and he was as bright as the sun. He gently pulled the ring from its box and slipped it on her finger. It fit perfectly. Then he snatched her around the waist and spun her through the air, a deep, wonderful laugh bubbling out of him, made of pure simple joy. Mel was laughing too, burying her face in his neck, just loving the feel of being with him, knowing that, for the rest of their lives, she was his and he was hers. Finally, Boromir seemed to spin and laugh himself out and he set her down, but they still clung to each other, neither willing to be the first to let go.
"I love you," Mel murmured, her face still pressed to his shoulder, "I love you so much."
"I love you, Melody," he answered, "You have made me the happiest man in all the world this night. And I swear I will live the rest of my life only to make you as happy as I am."
The next kiss they shared was long and wonderful and Mel wished it could last forever. She felt as light as air, as if she might just float away if Boromir were not clutching her, tethering her to the ground. But eventually they did part, and arm in arm they began to walk back through the camp together. Mel glanced down at the ring on her finger, lifting it slightly as it caught the light of the passing camp fires. It really was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, the sapphire in the center cradled by waves of silver and tiny diamonds…
"It was my mother's," Boromir said, elation still apparent in his voice.
Mel jumped in surprise and stared at him.
"Really?"
Boromir nodded.
"My father has kept it all these years."
The weight of his words took a moment to hit her. Boromir had to ask his father for this ring. Which meant Denethor must have known his son's intentions, but he had given him the ring anyway. Mel wasn't sure what to think about that. Denethor had made it pretty clear that he was not her biggest fan. Was this some sort of ploy, a tactical move that she wasn't yet able to fathom? Or could it be that Denethor's love for his son had simply trumped his dislike of her? Mel didn't know. And at that moment, she didn't really care. Boromir loved her, and she was going to marry him, and nothing in all of Middle Earth could take that from her now.
They reached the cluster of tents in the center of the camp, and Boromir walked her to the tent she shared with the sons of Elrond. There was a light glowing beyond the canvas. Clearly they had waited up for her and Mel felt a bit of a grin spreading on her face despite herself. In the dim light, Boromir leaned down and kissed her, gently, softly, the most beautiful kiss of Mel's life. She wondered if every kiss they shared for the rest of their lives would be sweeter than the last.
"Good night, my love," Boromir whispered, in a voice that sent shivers down her spine.
"Good night," Mel whispered back, feeling inadequate in his wake. But his smile, so genuine and perfect, made her sure that she couldn't have said anything better.
He kissed her again, quickly, as if he needed just this last one to sustain him, before he turned and walked away into the darkness. Mel watched him until she saw his barely illuminated outline disappear into his own tent. She tried to smile, only to realize that she had never actually stopped smiling.
Just as she was about to turn and slip into her own tent, she heard a familiar voice call quietly out of the dark.
"Mel…"
It was like a damp blanket had been dropped on her, holding her heavily in place. Legolas stepped out of the shadows, and the expression on his face told Mel that he already knew. But he didn't look angry, or even heartbroken. He simply looked resigned.
He took a step closer, but remained just out of reach, his eyes searching her face in the dim light, for what she couldn't tell. Mel felt a flurry of emotion. The thought of losing Legolas filled her with a horror she couldn't quite describe. Fear segued into guilt. She hadn't expected any of this, could never have guessed, but somehow she still felt as if she should have warned him somehow, should have found a way to talk to him again, should have tried harder… But that guilt quickly gave way to a strange sort of anger. After all, she had tried to tell him, tried to warn him that his feelings were misplaced. She'd clearly spelled it out, why should she feel guilty for being in love with Boromir? But as usual, she couldn't stay angry at Legolas for more than a second, especially knowing what lay ahead for them, the terrible choice looming just out of sight. So she was left feeling lost and empty, not sure what to say or do.
Legolas, of course, was impossible to read, his expression carefully neutral. After a moment, he spoke.
"You have accepted him then?"
The words, though spoken calmly, almost flippantly, immediately put Mel on the defensive.
"Yes," she said, holding her head high, refusing to show how scared she was.
Legolas nodded, and then held out his hand to her.
"May I?"
It took Mel a moment to figure out what he meant. Finally, hesitantly, she held out the hand with the sapphire ring. Legolas took her fingers delicately in his own, turning the ring in all directions to examine it.
"It suits you," he said finally, his voice soft and gentle.
For a long moment he didn't release her hand. Mel felt tears sting her eyes.
"I love him," she managed to choke out.
Legolas nodded and squeezed her fingers gently.
"I know."
He looked up, a soft smile touching his lips and softening the blue in his eyes.
"I know you do, mellon-nîn."
He reached out with his other hand and brushed his thumb along her cheek. Mel felt the moisture of an escaped tear dry across her skin.
"No tears now," he whispered, "Not for this."
Panic constricted Mel's chest and she felt like she couldn't draw breath.
"I can't..."
She sucked in air and tried again.
"I can't lose you, Legolas," she managed to say, suppressing a sob, "Please, I just..."
His brow furrowed and his grip on her fingers tightened marginally.
"Sérë, orenyanil," he said, "What makes you think you would ever lose me?"
She stared at him for a long moment. What...? What did he mean? She didn't know the word he had used, orenyanil, and she felt so lost...
Her confusion seemed to bring a sort of revelation to Legolas and he tilted his head.
"He didn't tell you."
Mel sniffed.
"Tell me what?"
To her surprise, Legolas actually smiled.
"Only that you need not fear, mellon-nîn," he said, "We have spoken, your meleth and I, and he understands my heart at last. Orenyanil, it is a very special word used only for the dearest of friends, whose souls have been so entwined that no force in the world may tear them apart."
He took her face in both his hands and forced her to meet his eyes.
"It means that you will never lose me, Mel," he said, his voice low, but forceful, "Do you understand? No matter what happens in these days to come, I will remain by your side. Always."
Mel felt the words echo in her heart. The dearest of friends… Legolas was her friend, her best friend, and she loved him. She had always known that, had never questioned it, just as she had never questioned her love for Boromir. But they were each a different kind of love, something she hadn't been able to put into words before. But the word Legolas had used… orenyanil… something about it made her think, made her hope for the first time in a long time, that she and Legolas understood one another again.
Maybe it was foolish. Maybe she was kidding herself. But Mel believed. She believed because she needed to believe. She needed to believe that Legolas was her best friend again, her orenyanil, and that nothing would ever separate them. She needed to believe that everything was going to be okay, that she would somehow make it through this nightmare, and everyone she loved would be safe.
For just a few moments, she let Legolas gather her into his arms, and she believed.
Elvish Translations
(all translations are Sindarin unless otherwise noted)
mellon-nîn: my friend
sérë: peace (Q)
orenyanil: my heart (inner mind) friend (Q)
meleth: love
