(Author: Sabrin)
"Leila!" Boromir cried in desperation, watching as the golden-haired girl ran blindly through the trees.
Yet he did not follow. A nagging presence in his held him back from his love. A moan of pain filled the cold air, and all attention was turned to Jariah.
"Will she be alright?" Gimli asked, biting his lower lip in concern, "Will she…"
"She will not die Master Dwarf," Legolas snapped, losing his temper for the first time, "She would not have been in this situation if it weren't for Leila."
"Why do you say that?" Boromir raged, turning on the elf, "This was a random act of fate! It could have very well happened to you Legolas."
"Did you not know of your original fate?" Legolas retorted, his voice growing cold and flat, "You were supposed to die Boromir; perish at the hand of an urkai-hai. You should have fallen with three arrows, yet you didn't. Jairah paid that price so that you, man of Gondor, could keep breathing!"
Rage filled the peaceful blue eyes of the elf, and he glared accusingly at Boromir. Boromir's gaze did not waver, keeping the challenge in his eyes clear.
"Stop this quarreling at once!" Aragorn scolded, looking at the two, "Son of Thranduil, have you no common sense? And Boromir, what would Gondor say of this?"
"Lego…las…"
The thin voice of Jairah broke the conversation, and Legolas became oblivious to everything except his love.
"Do not talk my love," Legolas whispered soothingly, "I am here."
"The girl… Leila…" Jairah struggled, heeding not Legolas's plead, "Do not blame her…my love. This was my own…decision…"
Jairah moaned, blood seeping from reopened wounds and she settled into the comfort and strength of the elven prince. Legolas's shoulders hunched, his blonde hair draping around him like a veil.
"We must return her to Lothlorien, or she will face certain death," Aragorn grimaced, looking sorrowfully at the two elves, "The choice is yours Legolas, Jairah. Which path will you brave?
* * * * *
Night fell, casting her fingers through the trees of Emyn Muil. Leila watched silently as the two hobbits ate no fire lit in fear of spies. Frodo looked blankly at the ground, memories of Gwen fresh on his mind. Sam looked worriedly at his master, not knowing what to do. Leila looked in the direction of the river, Legolas's eyes still seeming to bore into her.
"Do you mean to come to Mordor Mistress Leila?" Sam finally asked, causing Leila and Frodo to look at the stout hobbit.
"I guess so," Leila said uncertainly, "I do not care much at the moment though."
"That, dear lady, is what will surely bring your death," a voice said from the shadows of a tree.
The three companions immediately sprang up, Frodo and Sam's hands flying to their belts.
"If I had wished to kill you I would have hours ago halfings," the voice drawled, hinted with amusement.
A figure clad in grey garb of a soldier stepped from the trees, their long face sporting an amused smile. It was an elf, easily recognizable with the blonde hair and white skin. A bow and quiver jutted from the elf's back, yet they held a thick wooden pole.
"Who are you?!" Sam demanded, stepping protectively in front of Frodo.
"I am no foe," the stranger smiled, "Yet I am no friend for I do not know you."
"You didn't answer the question," Leila pointed out, earning a sharp glare from the storm grey eyes of the elf, "You are an elf, right?"
"Yes," the elf smiled, "And no."
"You speak in riddles and avoid answers," Frodo observed thoughtfully, "Much like Gandalf, and Aragorn."
"Mithrandir?" the elf cocked their head in surprise, "You know of him?"
"He was a friend," Frodo said quietly.
"He was friend of my people," the elf nodded in agreement, "Pray tell me, where is he?"
Frodo turned his head away, tears bulging in his eyes. Sam looked at the ground in silence, leaving Leila to answer.
"He fell in the Mines of Moria," Leila said, not bearing to look into the eyes of the elf.
Th elf bowed their head in reverence, no emotion clear on their face, "He was a good man, kind at heart and strong at soul."
"Any friend of Gandalf's is a friend of mine," Frodo said slowly, looking at the elf, "Do you care to join us for a late supper?"
The elf smiled at the hobbit, "Your offer is kind, and I shall accept. You need not give up your supplies as I carry my own. My name is Siendar, son of Kular."
"I am Frodo, son of Drogo," Frodo nodded, "This is Sam and Leila."
Sam did not say anything, glancing suspiciously at the elf. Leila did not have the heart to say anything.
"You are troubled," Siendar observed, "Darkness hangs like clouds in the sky. One is carrying an evil burden, one is dark at heart, and one is worried about another."
Leila looked at the elf in surprise, "How did you know that?"
"Consider it an elven gift," Siendar shrugged, "My race is sensitive to darkness and evil. Your eyes give clues too."
Frodo smiled slightly, and offered the elf a stone to sit on.
"What did you mean you are an elf, yet you are not an elf?" Sam asked, sitting behind Frodo.
Siendar smiled, "My race are of elves, yet I am an outcast. I chose exhile over death."
"What do you mean?" Frodo frowned, tiring of the riddles.
"Long ago, when our race was just starting life, Mordor sent a spy to look in on our secret; the making of elvish blades. I do not know why he chose us, but I was the only one that recognized the spy. I tried to tell my queen, but she refused the notion that an elf would work for Mordor.
During a feast, the smiths brought out the first of the elvish blades and was asked to explain how they were made. The spy would have gotten our secret, if it weren't for my arrow.
I was given the choice of death or exile forever from a trial, for my people still did not believe the Mordor elf to be a spy. I chose exile, as I knew that I had done the right thing. They still don't believe me. Now I wander Middle-Earth, determined to take out Mordor one day, or watch that dark land fall."
Siendar scowled, remembering some past event. He shook the scowl off and looked at the trio, "Now were would you three be going?"
"To Mordor," Sam said, looking at Siendar, still not trusting him.
"Mordor?" Siendar asked, jumping up, "I am coming with you."
The three looked at the elf with strange look.
"Are you sure?" Leila asked, "It will be hard and long."
The elf only smiled, tracing his finger around a knife in his belt, "Believe me, it will be my pleasure."