AN: Lucky you, getting another chapter so soon. There's no way in hell this can keep up, especially with me moving house soon, so enjoy it while it lasts. :P Imaginary bonus points to anyone who gets the vague, tropey non-LotR movie reference.

Chapter 36: The Face of Sauron

The tension didn't cut like I had hoped. It only grew over the days spent on the river.

Aragorn and Boromir pointedly put Legolas, Gimli, and I between them while we were on the river and all communication between the two was terse even on land. While I was grateful to not be on either of their boats, it was still extremely awkward.

Even hair braiding lessons had a certain tension to them these days. Much of the time I had Legolas's hands in my (rapidly growing) hair, that possessive, ridiculous husband of mine stared and often glared. It got to the point that on our last day on the boats, Legolas brought it up.

"I think that we should postpone any further work on your braids," Legolas said rather quietly over Gimli's snores.

I almost got whiplash with how fast I turned my head. "What?" I squawked, "Why?"

He gave me a look like I had dribbled on my tunic. "Your husband does not seem to appreciate it," he pointed out.

My nostrils flared with irritation. "He doesn't seem to like anything these days," I muttered, mostly to myself. I shoved my paddle into the river with enough force to be splashed by the spray.

"To save you from dying of glare galore, sure," I agreed much louder and a bit pointedly, "We can wait until after the quest is over and y'all are comfy in Minas Tirith."

The mere mention of Minas Tirith made Aragorn grimace and turn his head away.

"You don't see yourself joining us there?" Legolas asked with a tiny little frown.

"Maybe if my father-in-law rescinds my banishment, but until then I'll have to camp outside the gates," I answered with a humorless smile, "Or I'll just meet everybody who needs to go west in Rohan or Tharbad afterward. Depends on how much trouble I feel like causing."

From Boromir's boat, Merry corrected me, "We. How much trouble we feel like causing." He grinned mischievously.

Behind him, Pippin nodded emphatically. "We're not about to rest somewhere we all can't go," he determined.

I was so touched that I just had to put a hand to my heart. "Bless you," I told them.

When I looked at Boromir, he looked conflicted. Probably thinking about the argument we had a few days ago; the air still hadn't been cleared.

If he brought up the route again, I'd remind him about my banishment, I decided. Either we skipped Minas Tirith and I stayed around, or I'd wave them off within sight of the city and head for Rohan then home.

The Argonath, as Strider called it, was impressive enough to drive all such thoughts from my mind for a good half hour. How did their arms not crack and sheer off after all this time? How had such massive structures been constructed in the middle of nowhere? In terms of human constructions I'd gladly label these among the biggest wonders of Middle Earth.

When we got out of the canoes, Boromir hovered like he was afraid I'd disappear. Like he was afraid I'd disappear off with someone else? The only members of the company he seemed to approve of being around me these days were the hobbits and Gimli; Aragorn and Legolas he eyed with deep suspicion.

For a couple of hours I put up with it. I didn't mind Boromir being close to me and in fact I enjoyed it sometimes. Leaning my head on his shoulder, hip bumping him, sleeping with our legs tangled and one hand resting on my breastbone.

It's him being a jackass about it all that I minded. Wherever I went, Boromir steered me around the elf and ranger with himself between us like some enormous unnecessary shield. Sourly I told him, "Just don't try pissing on me."

My words shocked him enough that I was able to storm into the forest without him trying to follow me. That I took my halberd was a clear warning to stay away.

Before I even tried to gather any kindling, I found a nice tree with lots of knotty roots and plopped down against it with a huff. Men! I never thought I'd describe one as brooding in the chicken sense of the word but if Boromir slept any further on top of me, it would fit.

Not that I minded being slept half on top of. I prefer to sleep with something heavy over me, in fact. In America it was a weighted blanket, here it's my husband.

He was just being such a jerk! I huffed and slapped my hands against my thighs irritatedly.

Not that I was being superbly understanding or patient, I reminded myself. One of these days I'd have to apologize for acting like such a gorgon. But not until Boromir stopped being such a possessive, distrusting dickwad.

That would probably take a while, I mused darkly. We still had a good half of the quest to go.

Honestly, I was looking forward to Emyn Muil. Everybody else dreaded climbing up and down and finding lost footpaths and such, but that only made me excited. As long as there was a bit of rope and something to tie it around, I was going to have the time of my life! Plus arguing would be much more difficult there.

The swamp we would have to go through afterward… I shivered and wrapped my cloak around me further. Why did they call it the Dead Marshes? That, I really didn't want to find out.

But if I was to do my part and continue the quest, I had to. It was really that simple.

You don't have to do anything.

It was that horrible little voice again; I boxed my ears to make them ring and drown out the ring's awful encouragements. That thing was really beginning to get to me, I noticed with dread. How long until I became a danger to my friends?

Lord Celeborn's words came to mind. I wasn't a danger to the quest yet. But my mind had some kind of opening that Sauron had gotten through before and in his land, he'd have the advantage.

I could get them to the marshes but then I had to turn back, I decided in that small moment of peace. They'd need my climbing skills in Emyn Muil but on the edge of the Dead Marshes, I had to turn back. As a human being I'd be nothing but a burden in a literal land of poison like Mordor and take up valuable resources the hobbits would need. I was confident that even by myself, I could handle the jagged cliffs of Emyn Muil on my way back and make it to Rohan, just not Mordor itself.

I nodded to myself as the decision crystalized. Telling the hobbits would be the hard part; they'd be so disappointed that part of the "family" was leaving. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli would understand and hopefully respect that I knew my limits. Boromir's reaction, I was unsure of.

A gentle throb started in the back of my head. I thunked it back against the bark. Thoughtlessly I ran my fingers over the smooth wood of my halberd. The texture was soothing, almost as much as the protection I felt by having it with me.

Voices interrupted my self-soothing and I scowled when I heard Boromir. Could he not give me a single damn hour to myself?

Then I heard Frodo's voice, and while I didn't hear words, the caution was clear.

Was Boromir going to pick a fight with poor Frodo too? Sighing heavily, I heaved myself to my feet and brushed off my bottom. Looked like it was time to play interference again, I joked to myself as I came closer to them.

Boromir was in enough of a temper that I felt apprehensive in approaching them. To determine the situation first, I hid behind a tree midway between the two.

"I ask only for the strength to defend my people!" Boromir shouted, throwing his collected firewood to the ground. Desperately, he told Frodo, "If you would but lend me the Ring-"

The breath caught in my throat. No. No, this couldn't be happening.

"No!" Frodo exclaimed, eyes wide in horrified disbelief. He stumbled backward.

"Why do you recoil?" Boromir asked, "I am no thief." He took a long step forward.

"You are not yourself," Frodo stated carefully.

That was more than enough for me. Deliberately I made the leaves crunch hard beneath my feet as I strolled out into the clearing, striding between my husband and the ring-bearer. "Hi, guys!" I said with false cheer, halberd in an underhand grip to let it rest against my arm, "Who's asking to borrow what?" I gave them both a silly smile.

Something in Boromir's eyes hardened. "You stand against me?" he murmured, betrayal in every syllable.

My choice was ahead, Lady Galadriel had told me. Now it was here.

In my heart of hearts, no matter how much it killed me, I knew what I had to do. My chest was tight with emotion as I flipped my halberd out into a ready position. Against the man I loved.

"Frodo, we've taken you as far as we can," I called to the hobbit standing behind me, "I'll use that super-secret ultra effective weapon, and you grab Sam and go." I finished hoarsely, "I'll hold Boromir as long as I can."

Enraged, my husband drew his sword.

"Will you be alright?" Bless Frodo for thinking of me when it was his neck on the line.

I nodded tersely. "I'm a bit of an expert in delaying my dear husband," I stated, a bit dryly, before I shouted, "GO! RUN!"

Footsteps scrambled behind me but I didn't dare look back. To take my focus away from Boromir when he was pissed and out of his mind would be a death sentence.

"I should have listened to Father about you," he hissed and stepped forward, "Now you're going to kill me like you did the nazgul?"

Reluctantly, fearfully, hurt, I stood my ground. In fact, I smiled at him. "Oh no, you completely misunderstand the purpose of my supposed super-secret ultra-effective weapon," I told him before I drew in a giant breath of air.

Boromir ran the few feet left between us, sword raised.

Even as I blocked his strike, I screamed. "HEEELP! HELP! I NEED HELP!" I made sure to make my voice extra shrill and piercing for maximum carry and identification.

It made Boromir laugh, a note of madness in his voice. "Your ultimate weapon is to scream for help?" he taunted and sent a punishing set of strikes at me that I barely blocked.

"Yep!" I replied, completely unashamed of that, "Being a woman has its upsides!"

There was no way I could battle Boromir for long, not when he was fighting to kill. I'm good but he's got dozens of years of experience over me. At least he doesn't have his shield, I thought when I managed to strike him in the side with the counterweight of my halberd. I'd be more boned than I already was.

For several long minutes I was able to keep him at bay, all the while screaming. Sometimes I was able to get words out and others were simply noise, but I made such a racket that hopefully the rest of the fellowship would show up soon. They had to.

In a move I never would have expected, Boromir threw his sword aside and fucking tackled me to the ground. My halberd was jerked away and suddenly, real fear filled me. The kind of fear I haven't felt since I jumped on those grenades so many years ago.

I still wasn't going down without a fight; I gave one last, shrill scream right in Boromir's ear as I punched him in the face as hard as I could. Wasn't this familiar?

He hit me back, a good punch to the jaw that made my teeth rattle. Even as I kneed him in the side he punched me again.

Blood spurted from my nose and ran down my throat. Damn, my nose was broken again. "What the hell?!" I demanded, hissing when it made my nose throb.

Boromir grabbed at my shoulders but I tried to wiggle away and keep him from whatever his goal was. It didn't work, he was just too much stronger than me. Horror filled me when he pinched at the pressure points on my shoulders and I remembered doing the same thing to him all those years ago. My arms went weak like I'd just pushed a boulder uphill, barely able to do more than flop at my sides.

"Boromir," I breathed, begging.

His hands migrated from my shoulders to my throat. First just settling there, but then tightening, tightening, restricting my windpipe.

I choked, unable to get in enough air. "Please," I gurgled.

He began to settle his weight on his hands- on my neck. A wet snapping sound seemed to echo in my head, then a little crunch began.

"You will not bring down my city!" Boromir screamed, completely deranged now.

I felt around the ground; my halberd was nearby and if I could just hit him with it-

His grip tightened.

Instead of mallorn wood, my fingertips brushed smooth stone.

There was no air now; my legs jerked unconsciously, fighting the obstacle to breathing. Tears dripped from the corners of my eyes, blurring my vision even as spots started appearing.

Was this how I was going to die? At my husband's hands?

I blinked and if I could have gasped, I would have.

It wasn't Boromir on top of me, strangling me, anymore. Black hair was braided back to reveal a face like mine but worse, covered in weeping burns and half-healed cut marks, teeth visible not only in his maniacal grin but through a slash in his left cheek. One eye socket was blackened and crispy. The other stared down at me unblinkingly, orange fire spitting from a cat's eye pupil.

Sauron, I realized with horror that made me feel sick.

The grin widened.

Panic took me and desperately, I grabbed at the smooth stone I had felt. With the last of my strength I slammed it into the side of his face.

It was enough to make the body on top of me tumble to the side and the hands around my throat slacken. Black braided hair turned to loose brown and the hands around my throat went slack.

Still panicking, I scrambled out from under Boromir's unconscious body, gasping for breath that wouldn't quite come. Had he done actual damage? I felt lightly at my neck, felt my pounding pulse and the firm structures beneath my skin. Nothing felt wrong under my hands.

Looking over at Boromir required almost more courage than I had. I swallowed back vomit upon seeing his bloodied temple, just like in the vision Lady Galadriel had shown me. My trembling fingers went to his neck and relief flooded me when I felt a steady pulse.

I fell back onto the ground and for a brief moment let the tears take me. How did it come to this? I asked myself. How would I explain this to Boromir when he woke up? What if when he woke up he was still completely bonkers?

No, Frodo was gone and the goddamned motherfucking ring with him. The stimulus was gone, so the reaction should be too. (Or so I hoped.)

As my gasps slowed to normal breathing, a terrible stench invaded my mouth. A combination of stale sweat, soured blood, and swamp-dirt.

Shit. Orcs were the last thing I needed right now, I thought angrily.

If they found Boromir like this, they'd kill him instantly, so I shoved a pile of leaves on top of him to hopefully disguise him. The horn at his belt, I took. I'd need something to grab attention now that my voice was gone.

Halberd in hand, I carefully followed my nose around the stone structure to find something worse than orcs. They were the same kind of muscular, disciplined being that I had encountered during the bride theft, and even more of them, all well armored and quietly snarling.

Then they saw me and there was a roar. They began to run at me.

No way could I fight off over two dozen of them, not in any state but definitely not with my throat half-crushed. Of course I ran as fast as I could away.

A glance over my shoulder provided a minor relief; they all seemed to be following me away from where Boromir lay helpless. I put on an extra burst of speed to jump a rather wide stream, only to have them follow me with the determination of bloodhounds. Awfully, I realized that they were just a little faster than me. Only my head start was saving me for now.

A gasp in, a breath out. A gasp in- I raised the horn to my lips and blew my breath out through it as hard as I could. Which wasn't very, but it still made a sound that carried and that hopefully the rest of the fellowship could hear.

"Find the halflings!" one of the monsters ordered, "Argh! Find the halflings!"

This was worse than I thought, and I already thought I was headed to hell in a handbasket. My heart was already running at speed but as I turned my course away from the camp at the river, it began to thud even harder. I knew that I was giving up any chance of being rescued so long as I led these things away from the fellowship. I'd be killed horribly, possibly after being tortured, and then be eaten like the long-pig I am.

Better than them getting the ring, any day. My life was nothing compared to the fate of the world.

Again I blew on the horn. Follow me! I was shouting at the monsters mentally. Follow me and the pretty horn noise away from my friends!

I jumped another brook and hung a right. I couldn't run much longer, not while I could barely breathe. Still my legs kept going, working on momentum as much as effort.

Two small figures ahead made my eyes go wide. What were Merry and Pippin doing out here?!

An enormous brute was in front of them, its axe blade as long as my arm swinging down at them as they stood frozen in fear.

"No you don't!" I forced out. Despite that I felt so horribly weak, I put on one last burst of speed to make it in time-

Praying to Mandos that the elves were honest about the properties of mallorn wood, I raised my halberd to it. The hook caught on the pole of the axe and wrenched it out of the monster's hands before its strike could land. A twisting jab upward put the pike through its head under the helmet and it fell to its knees, dead.

I skidded to a stop in front of the hobbits. "Run!" I ordered them, barely more than a croak, "Run!"

There was some noise of footsteps behind me but again, I couldn't look back. One of my original pursuers had gotten to us and was taken down with a blow to the head from my counter-weight.

Another monster overtook us and I hacked its sword arm off with the blade, then pierced a different foe's throat with the hook.

"Find the halflings! Find the woman!" was roared from the back.

My blood ran cold. This time praying for help, I lifted the horn and blew it again. I had to drop it within seconds to defend myself from blows that didn't seem to have the same lethal intent behind them.

One monster that approached from my side was knocked off its feet, having received a thrown stone to the head.

The hobbits were still here, I realized with dread. "No! Run!" I shouted as best I could.

Stones continued to be thrown.

The monsters just kept coming. There seemed to be no end to them. No matter how many I killed, or Merry and Pippin knocked out, there were always more.

I really, honestly don't know how I fought as long as I did. It was likely only minutes but it felt like hours of attack after attack, foe after foe. My arms were beginning to tremble with fatigue.

Then one got past me. I couldn't help it, they were coming in waves and I was so tired I was beginning to stumble. Merry and Pippin had their daggers, I assured myself, they'd be able to take care of one of these things.

Then another slid past. I was being separated from the hobbits intentionally, I realized; together we were a team with melee and air support but if I didn't have them at my back-

Just as I stepped aside to swing the axe head of my halberd, an arrow whizzed past. My eyes went wide and I glanced up at a little hillock forward of me.

Another of these creatures stood on top, not wearing a helmet but carrying a wicked looking recurve bow. Their leader, I assumed with dread.

Another foe engaged me and I had to wretch my attention back to what was within sword's reach. It forced me to the side, allowing a few of the brutes to get past.

"Run!" I shouted as loudly as I could to Merry and Pippin.

Instead I heard their panicked voices. "No! Let us down!" Merry screamed, as Pippin shouted, "Cass! Cass!" Their calls for help faded as out of the corner of my eye I saw them get carried off.

A blow knocked me off my feet and suddenly pain burst through my head as I hit it on a tree root. "Urgh…" I groaned. Blinking against the suddenly too bright sunlight, I grabbed for my halberd.

Rough hands grabbed my shoulders, hauling me first to my feet then off them. "Let me go!" I demanded, kicking and squirming in the cruel grip. Its smell was so bad, I wondered if I would pass out.

The second-ugliest face I had ever seen peered at me, snarling as it observed me. "Woman?" it seemed to ask.

Wait, it had to ask? Like hell was I going to be kidnapped, so I shook my head. "Nope! Not a woman!" I lied hoarsely.

It snarled into my face and I was pretty sure I'd lose consciousness at any minute.

A strangled shout left it and it dropped me.

I landed on my feet but fell back onto my bum and began scuttling backward, a smile growing on my face as I saw the green-fletched arrow in the monster's shoulder. Now in triumph, I raised the horn to my lips and blew it.

Finally, there was hope.

At about the same time, Gimli was facing an interesting predicament. For some reason the uruk-hai weren't trying to kill him, but to carry him away! "Argh, what are they trying to do!" he barked at Aragorn as he fought off another attempted kidnapper.

"I do not know!" Aragorn returned unhelpfully as he killed yet another of the beasts.

Under the cover of Legolas's arrows they advanced toward where Boromir's horn was being blown, each hoping that they reached their friend in time.

An evil voice rang in the air. "Find the halflings! Find the woman!"

The three fighters exchanged alarmed looks. They couldn't let Saruman take their friends! If possible, they fought even harder.

Again Boromir's horn rang out and Gimli hoped that the lad could hold out long enough for them to reach him. He charged an uruk-hai, barely stopping to cut its legs out from under it before he passed its screaming torso.

Gimli was sure that he would never forget the sight that met his eyes as he crested the hill then. A score or more of enemies laid dead surrounding a single uruk-hai who was holding not Boromir but Cass in the air. Her head lolled as she was shaken slightly.

The elf let off an arrow and the uruk dropped Cass, both of them crying out in pain. The battle was finished quickly after that; Aragorn fought with an anger that Gimli had seldom seen in him, being the one to take down the huge brute that had threatened their friend while Gimli and Legolas dealt with the stragglers.

All the while Cass struggled to stay sitting up, arm trembling with the effort. At her side the horn of Gondor was shattered and her halberd laid several feet away. As she rubbed her throat, her face was stricken. "They took Merry and Pippin!" she hacked out.

Gimli traded dark looks with Legolas.

They had friends to recover from the clutches of Saruman's minions. And they would enjoy the task.