In the sudden darkness, Frodo began to pant. His eyes rolled crazily, unseeingly, and his hands reached forward to grasp on to Sam's cloak.

Sam felt a rush of terror. He looked towards where he'd last seen Aragorn and Legolas, but he only could see blackness. He took Frodo's wrists and held him close, needing to feel his soft warmth.

Legolas struck flint against wood, lighting a small fire on the end of a stick. He held it up high, illuminating the darkness. Yellow and black, shadow and flame, danced across his face as the fire flickered and snapped, angrily burning the wood into ash.

Legolas's eyes narrowed. "Aragorn," he said loudly.

Aragorn paid him no heed. Why have I put this off for so long? He asked himself. I do not believe I have ever felt... Such joy. He gazed at the Ring in his palm with adoration, stroking it with the very tip of his index finger. He was enjoying the sick pleasure of resistance, seeing how long he could go without sliding it on to his finger. The temptation was a sick thrill for him. He grinned like a dog, his eyes rolling as the Ring continued to whisper his name.

"Sam," Frodo whimpered, his hands trembling. "Sam, don't let..." But his words fell to the back of his throat and were swallowed by fear and uncertainty.

Sam looked at Frodo sadly, but then he was enraged. How dare Aragorn betray us like this! He snapped his jaw shut, glaring at Aragorn. Poor Frodo! This must be torture for him! Frodo's fingers suddenly went limp and he slipped away from Sam, sitting down in a slump.

"Strider!" Sam could stand it no longer. "Give it back to Frodo!" He stood up to prove he was serious, grabbing his sword.

"It's mine!" Aragorn spat venomously, smacking the Ring to his chest.

"Aragorn..."

Aragorn's heart quickened. His eyes swiveled around as he searched for the one that called his name. He swallowed, his eyes widening as he saw Boromir standing near the fire. Boromir stood on shaking legs. He had been wounded, but Aragorn could not tell where or how badly.

Boromir stepped towards him. "I..." He winced, and Aragorn gloatingly knew he must be in a great deal of pain. "I know what you must be feeling," Boromir said thinly, his voice as warbled as his feet.

Aragorn stood stiff, watching breathlessly, waiting for what, he did not know. He curled his fingers over the Ring as Boromir approached.

As Boromir came closer, an old sense of longing rose up inside of his gut. He stared at the Ring and his mouth filled with fluid. But then he stood in front of Aragorn with eyes dark and full of sorrow, running out and leaving muddy streaks down his dirty face.

"The Ring is alluring, is it not?" Boromir asked weakly, gazing into Aragorn's eyes, a small smile twitching on his blood-scabbed lips. "But just as an open field promises flowers, there are poisonous snakes that hide in the grass."

Aragorn's hand acted on its own. Suddenly his hand slapped on to Boromir's throat, his fingers crushing into his windpipe.

"You dare try to take it from me?!" Aragorn yelled, holding his right hand above his head with the Ring in its fist, like a child attempting to keep a toy out of the reach of a sibling.

"No, my Lord," Boromir forced out, raising his hand. Instead of trying to fight Aragorn off, Boromir rested his hand gently on top of Aragorn's, which still clung to his neck.

Their eyes locked.

Legolas and Sam stared.

Aragorn fell forward into solid marble eyes, breaking through the grayness and swimming upwards. But the tears were too many and he could not swim fast enough, for the tears kept coming. Aragorn struggled to swim to the surface, but instead of light and hope, the great Eye of Sauron blazed down at him. Aragorn screamed and closed his eyes, but the great fire came and burned through his eyelids. Forced to look, unable to stop screaming, Aragorn could do nothing but inhale the salty tears and drown.

Aragorn snapped out of it, gasping, shoving Boromir away from him. He mashed his hands against his face and felt it wet with tears. He sobbed into his hands uncontrollably, quivering violently.

"I..." Aragorn gasped out.

Boromir took a step towards him, straining his ears to listen.

"I remember." His voice had dropped into a pathetic whisper. Aragorn slowly sank down and sat on his knees, hanging his head down low. The Ring dropped from his slimy fingers and thudded heavily into the stone floor.

Frodo gasped, feeling the Ring's weight.

"He remembers," Legolas echoed tonelessly.

Boromir's stomach turned to ice. Suddenly all that had passed between them no longer matter. The hatred, the anger, none of it was important, or even valid. Boromir came and knelt in front of him, their knees almost touching. He placed his hand on Aragorn's shoulder.

"Be at peace, brother," Boromir said, blinking rapidly. "I bear you no ill will."

"B-but before, you said you hated me..." Aragorn blubbered, unable to look Boromir in the eye.

"I was being foolish."

"And what am I?" Aragorn demanded hotly, hitting the ground with his fist.

Boromir hesitated, then put his other hand on Aragorn's shoulder as well. "You are among friends," he told him gently.

"Like hell you are!" Sam shouted. Brandishing his sword, Samwise the Brave rushed over and swung at Aragorn's neck.

Boromir dove into Sam's legs, tripping him just before he could commit his crime. He wrestled the sword from Sam's grasp and pinned the young Halfling to the ground.

"Be still, Sam!" Boromir snapped. "The evil has fled from his heart!"

"No!" Sam squirmed like a fish out of water. "Frodo needs the Ring! He needs it!"

Aragorn looked passed Sam and Boromir to see Frodo.

Frodo was staring right back.

A bit stunned, Aragorn picked up the Ring and got to his feet. He felt disgust with himself, for the Ring was just a circle of cold gold. A slight bit of weight in the palm of his hand. Meaningless.

Samwise hollered and tried to punch Boromir in the eye, so Boromir smacked Sam on the cheek. Sam fell silent.

Aragorn walked over to Frodo and got on his knees before him. He handed him the Ring, and Frodo took it without hesitation. Aragorn bowed his head. "I will not ask for your forgiveness," he said in a low voice. "Nor will I ask you to trust me again. I only ask for you to decide my fate. Say the word, and I will leave the Fellowship and be gone forever."

Boromir stood up, releasing Sam. You cannot leave me now, he thought, a bit panicked.

Samwise half-crawled back over to Frodo and crouched at his side protectively. He looked at Frodo carefully. He wanted to answer for him, to tell him to just let the bugger have it, to run him through. But he knew this was something Frodo had to determine, for it was he that had come to love Aragorn more than any of the others. That's what Sam thought, anyway.

"My heart is in shambles," Frodo mumbled at last, staring down at the Ring in his hand. Slowly, he lifted the flap of his shirt pocket and dropped the Ring inside. He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them. He looked up at Aragorn. "I cannot send you away," he said seriously. "For I do not know if I can stand losing another person. Your mind appears sound, now, so I have no reason not to trust you. However... I do not think I will ever be able to call you my friend."

Aragorn nodded shortly. He did not let Frodo see how anguished he was by his answer. "Thank you, Frodo," he said humbly. He stood quickly and turned away.

Legolas gathered more wood into a pile and lit it, then went to check on Gimli.

Aragorn stood bitterly staring at the ground, watching shadows waiver and deepen by the rise and fall of the flames.

Boromir wanted to rush over to Aragorn and pull him to pieces with his fingernails, yet he also wanted to tiptoe to him, touch his lips with his thumb, and kiss the very edge of his chin. He took a shuddering breath, looking away. It was then that he noticed Merry.

"Merry?" He called, running to him. He dropped to the ground and lifted Merry's still form and cradled him in his lap. He touched his forehead and it was sticky with drying blood. An open wound buried beneath his hair leaked cold blood. "I- I need a towel," Boromir cried. He looked over his shoulder at Aragorn. "A towel, please," he begged when Aragorn looked at him. "And some water."

Aragorn shuffled his feet over to his pack and pulled out an extra blanket and a flask of water. He brought it to Boromir and sat down beside him dully, watching Boromir as he worked.

Snatching the blanket, he immediately wet a corner with the water and began cleaning the blood off of Merry's face and neck, so he could see where he was wounded. Then he began very gently to clean the blood from his hair and staunch the blood flow of the wound. Then Boromir tilted Merry's neck back carefully, dabbing the flask into his lips. Merry' mouth opened and he gave him some water. To Boromir's relief, Merry began to swallow.

"He's alive," Boromir whispered happily, hugging Merry gratefully.

Merry winced and opened his eyes. Merry blinked tiredly at Boromir, then smiled, since Boromir was still smiling. "Are we alright?" Merry asked.

"Yes," Aragorn said firmly. He cast Boromir a meaningful glance. "We are quite alright."

Boromir couldn't breathe. He looked at Aragorn and instantly froze, for their noses were inches apart.

"Aragorn, Boromir," Legolas interrupted, his tone oddly sharp.

Boromir shut his mouth, not realizing it had been open. He looked down at Merry and stood up, holding him in his arms like a child. Exhaling, he turned and faced Legolas.

"What is it?" Aragorn asked, not wanting to stand up.

Legolas's shoulders sagged. "Gimli..." he said tenderly. "He's... he's dead." He stared down at the fallen Dwarf's body.

No one spoke. They all knew Legolas would not lie at a time like this.

"Are you certain?" Boromir asked anyway.

Legolas gave him a withering look. "Yes," he answered. "I am certain."

Merry pushed on Boromir's chest until Boromir sat him down. Merry went over to Gimli and stood beside Legolas. They stood and stared at the dead Dwarf.

"I'm sorry," Aragorn said after a long moment of silence.

Legolas and Boromir looked at him.

"I feel that most of what has happened is my fault," Aragorn went on. "Now I know what I have done, and I am ashamed that I have done it. But let us not lose faith, for I will not, either. Gimli died protecting us from the Enemy. Let is not be that he died in vain. At first light, we move on through these swamps. Before the sun sets, by the Kings, we will be at Mordor's doorstep!" He glared around at everyone, making sure they had heard him.

"But what about Gim-?"

"I'm sorry, Merry, but you know we have no choice but to leave him. We may even need to push him into a swamp hole." Aragorn grimaced.

Merry frowned at his insensitivity and walked over to Sam and Frodo. He sat down with them and Frodo reached over and hugged him. Sam couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy.

Legolas dutifully began covering Gimli with the cleanest blanket he could find.

Boromir went and stood beside Aragorn. "I am sorry, also," he said in a low voice. "For it is not by your fault alone that such misfortune has befallen us." He swallowed bitterly. "If I had but controlled my lustful affections, then-"

"Please, Boromir," Aragorn interupted. "I am merely ashamed that I am so weak to the Ring's influence. Nothing more."

Boromir, startled, searched Aragorn's face for a detailed explanation, but none was forthcoming. Aragorn smiled the smallest, sneakiest of smiles, patted Boromir on the chest, and walked away.