Disclaimer: In my absence, nothing has changed. Middle Earth and all its inhabitants still belong to Tolkien, and rightfully so. Previous disclaimers and author's notes still apply.

The Imperfect One
By: JDArc

Chapter Twenty: The Breaking of the Fellowship

Legolas knew immediately that something had happened with Elenmírë the first time Aragorn had directed them to shore to rest. There was a cold, distant air about her, and he wondered whether he should keep to his promise and stay away from her, or whether he should run to her and ask her what was burdening her so. He couldn't, for the life of him, figure it out as the company carefully organized their camp, but, even in the fading light of day, a tiny shimmer of reflected light caught his Elvish eyes, and he looked down in shock at the tiny ring that enveloped Elenmírë's finger. She had never worn such jewelry before, and a spasm of pain immediately rushed to his heart as his mind jumped to the many conclusions of what could have surpassed in the very little time they had had before their departure in Lothlórien.

His mind flashed back to her unusual behavior when they had begun their packing of the boats before their leaving, and he had barely enough time to register her fleeting figure as she had fled back through the Golden Wood, leaving a gaping Mary Sue behind. He had awaited her return, watching her discreetly as she had run back to the river bank with her cheeks flushed, but there was a difference in her aura. The distress that had consumed her with Gandalf's fall was still there, but there was also an acceptance and a sense of peace. Her grey eyes were calm like the skies after a terrible storm, and she held her head high with more confidence in a manner much like…

"No," he said quietly to himself as he his eyes narrowed in her direction. Haldir? he thought questioningly to himself. Elenmírë's relationship to Haldir was much more comfortable than Legolas would have liked, but…a ring! A ring could only symbolize one thing between two people, but surely Elenmírë couldn't have…she wouldn't have…would she? The question repeated itself within the confines of his mind, and what scared him even more was that he hadn't a clue of what the answer would be.

A familiar anger arose in his chest, and he forced his eyes away from her, clenching his jaw shut. Images of Elenmírë's good-bye to Haldir at the gift giving resurfaced in his mind as did the jealousy and hurt he had felt then. Is she even worth this pain? he thought silently, as he sat by the small fire that the hobbits were building. His eyes were drawn to the flames as he thought of his relationship with the She-Elf, and although he had told her that hearing her declaration of love had been more than enough for him, he wasn't exactly quite sure anymore. Because of her, he had suffered more than he would have liked, and she had distracted his mind away from their mission more than enough times. He risked a glance in her direction as she approached the fire as well, and he snapped his gaze away instantly, gulping down the bitter taste of betrayal he was feeling. He told her that he would wait for her until she was ready, but the ring on her finger signified that she had been ready for someone to love for some time. Maybe, his breaking heart thought dismally, he wasn't the one meant for her after all. If their fates were truly intertwined, she wouldn't have been wearing the ring of another.

Restraining the fury that threatened to break free, Legolas regarded her coolly with his eyes, acknowledging her presence, and much to his dismay, she did exactly the same with an attitude slightly colder than he thought possible from her. His brows furrowed together as he looked away from her, focusing his gaze on the fire before them, his ears desperately grabbing onto the cheerful, though quiet, chatter of the hobbits. As much as he wanted a distraction at that moment, he couldn't keep his thoughts of Elenmírë away, and he stared in her direction once more. He knew just by looking at her that she was once again as emotionally distant from him as she had been when they had first met. He sighed inwardly, knowing that to draw her back to him would take another strong effort of patience on his part, and though his logical mind scoffed at the idea of putting up with her any longer, he could not keep his heart from taking the challenge. He loved her; he could never ever deny that fact, but was his love for her enough to keep them together? His dismal thoughts reflected in the blue of his eyes as he stared at the carefully composed She-Elf, and she flicked her eyes to quickly look at him before turning her attention to the fire.

"What is it?" she asked calmly, never taking her eyes away from the flickering flames. "Something troubles you."

"Your ring," he answered truthfully, hoping that maybe he could reach her through his honesty.

"It is Haldir's," she replied bluntly, and he winced at the detachment she held in her tone. "A present, he said. A good-luck charm, more like."

"Is that all it represents?" he asked, surprised at the bitterness that reeked in his voice, and Elenmírë tore her eyes away from the blaze to stare at him, confusion clearly written on her face.

"Of course," she said steadily, though with not much confidence. "If he had intended it to mean something of another nature, he would have told me."

"But would you have accepted it all the same?" Legolas fired at her, before guilt settled in the pit of his stomach at her hurt expression, and she stood abruptly.

"Please, do not make this harder than it should be," she said over her shoulder as she turned on her heel and walked away.

"Why is she saying all that?" he muttered to himself as he also remembered her cryptic words at the gift giving. 'There are some things you know nothing about,' she had said to him then, and although he had retorted back in anger, he could not help the chill that had taken a hold of him at her words.

"Hey," a voice greeted him hesitantly, and he looked up to see Mary Sue standing there, and she motioned to the space next to him. "Is anyone sitting there?"

"No, but there are other seats available," he said brusquely, and after a moment of indecision, he stood up. "As a matter of fact, you can take my seat." As she sputtered for words, Legolas left her standing alone, and just as she moved to follow him, the hobbits, satisfied with the fire that they had built, grabbed a hold of her and started a friendly conversation, and with a forced smile, she reluctantly joined them. Legolas let out a sigh of relief, and he moved toward the shore, where Aragorn and Boromir stood, but he paused slightly before he reached the two men. They were in an argument of sorts, and silently, another person drew up next to the Elf as they watched them exchange heated words.

"Something is amiss with that Boromir," Gimli muttered. "Ever since Lothlórien, he had been acting quite strange." Legolas did nothing but nod, choosing not to comment. Together they watched the two men before Aragorn stormed away from Boromir, who had then sat abruptly at the spot in which he was standing, breathing deeply as if to calm himself.

Several more days and nights passed, and the group of ten continued down the Great River, and though no more words were exchanged between Legolas and Elenmírë, the silence between the two only increased the tension within the Company.

After the fight between the two men, Aragorn and Boromir hardly spoke to one another unless it was absolutely dire for them to do so. The strain was taking its toll the most on the hobbits, especially Frodo, who now seemed more troubled than ever, but everyone within the Fellowship felt the heavy weight of the growing anxiety. Deep within their hearts, each member knew that they would not last together for very long. It was inevitable, they all knew, that something was going to break their Fellowship, and that thought placed a heavy burden on their shoulders as they awaited for that dreadfully fated day.

"Who is keeping watch?" Legolas questioned one night when they had taken to shore after a long day's work of rowing.

"The Elven lass," the dwarf answered, amused at the affect his words had on the Elf. "It's quite lonely, isn't it? Keeping watch by one's self?"

"She should be used to it by now, the way she pushes everyone away," Legolas returned, anger dribbling from his words, surprising even himself at how livid he sounded. Gimli, merely grunted, not wanting to infuriate the Elf further. "Forgive me," Legolas muttered moments later. "I am not in the best disposition."

"It's more than obvious that the group harmony is out of balance," Gimli commented, shaking his head before turning to go to the fire where most of the Fellowship had gathered. He paused and looked back at Legolas. "And lad, talk to her. No good can come from hiding your emotions." With that, the Dwarf joined the company at the fire, and sighing, Legolas silently debated over the Dwarf's words before coming to a conclusion, and without another moment's hesitation, he followed a path of footsteps just along the riverbank before it cut sharply toward an incline covered with green growth. He walked easily up the incline to find a small group of boulders, perfect for sitting and keeping watch over the Fellowship and the surrounding areas.

There sat Elenmírë, gazing over the rest of the company, and she let out an audible sigh, as if she desired nothing more than to be with the group instead being alone watching over them. She turned her head snappishly, immediately spotting Legolas standing behind her.

"I meant not to sneak up on you," he said before she could speak. "It is a goal of mine to break bad habits." A corner of her mouth lifted, spreading a small grin on her lips, and Legolas walked toward her, sitting himself down beside her.

"I saw you heading this way," she informed him matter-of-factly. "Not much escapes my vision from here, so your coming technically did not surprise me in the least."

"Ah."

A silence fell over them, and they both observed the scene below where Sam and Pippin were in the middle of telling a story, one which held the rest of their companions engrossed, save for one person. Boromir still sat away from the others, keeping his gaze on the river, and Elenmírë frowned at him, sadness etching the lines on her face.

"You miss him, do you not?" Legolas supplied, reading the emotions in her eyes. She stiffened, automatically straightening her back, and she bent her legs, as if to leave, but Legolas, much quicker than she, grabbed a hold of her arm, freezing her motion. "Talk to me, Elenmírë."

"There is nothing to discuss between us," she retorted, though she settled back down on the ground, her head bowed.

"There needs to be clarification," Legolas began, looking at her expectantly, but she merely stared at him in confusion.

"Then speak, if you must."

"I had rather hoped you would clarify your position in this…relationship, if you will." Legolas immediately detected the tension in her body as she gazed at him wearily.

"What is there to explain to you, Legolas?" Elenmírë questioned quietly, returning her gaze to Boromir. "I have already told you of how I felt, and I had thought you would let the matter rest. "

"Your actions have given me reason to doubt your earlier declaration," he stated, gesturing to her ring. "You said you loved me. You also said that you could not be with anyone, especially when you were torn between Boromir and I, and yet, there is physical evidence wrapped around your finger that indicates otherwise. Honestly, what do you want with me, Elenmírë?" The anger that he had felt toward her did not arise somehow, now that he was speaking to her in a civil manner. He took in her haggard appearance, her weary expression, and his heart softened. His love shone brightly in the depths of his eyes, and even in the darkness of the fading twilight, Elenmírë could feel her heart hammering in her chest the way it always did when Legolas was near. Forcing herself away from him was one of the hardest things she had ever had to do, but being so close to him now nearly broke her resolve, and she was slipping away from the façade she had kept up since they had departed from the shores of Lothlórien. He was so close, only mere inches away, and all she had to do was close the gap between them and fall into his arms. All she had to do was apologize to him for hurting him the way she obviously had from the moment they had met, and all she had to do was give into the fact that she missed him. All she had to do was believe that perhaps, the love between them was stronger than she thought possible, and maybe the love that she was so scared of could actually survive the evil they were going to face. All she had to do was believe…

Then, flashes of her vision in Galadriel's Mirror erupted into her thoughts, and she recoiled from him, shaken at her remembrance of his mangled body lying on top of her dead corpse.

No, she thought to herself. No, being together will only invite death.

"Legolas, I-I…I…I-I cannot say w-what…w-why," she stuttered, successfully confusing him even more.

"What?" His oceanic blue eyes clouded with worry, and placed both hands on her shoulders to placate her, but she jerked out of his reach, as if his touch burned her.

"Being with me will only cause you more pain," she finally blurted out, and he started at her words. "I do not want to put you through more pain than you are feeling now, and being with me will only do so."

"Why are you speaking so enigmatically?" Legolas demanded, but before he could get more out of her, her emotions were once again hidden deep within her, and he knew that once she had reached this point, it was nearly impossible for him to get more from her. Her face had faded into a protective mask, and she coolly straightened her shoulders as she flicked her messy braid over her shoulder.

"I am on duty here, Legolas," she stated, moving back into the original position he had found her in. She faced away from him, gazing over the Fellowship.

"But-"

"Please." With that, she fell silent, and frustrated, Legolas stormed away, his pent up aggravation threatening once again to break free, but a mysterious presence chilled away any emotion save that of fear, and he immediately stared up into the sky, as if expecting something to hover above, but nothing except the twinkling of the stars greeted his tired eyes. He scanned the skies, but no matter how hard he searched, all seemed normal. However, the Elf could not shake the feeling away, and he looked back at Elenmírë, only to see her gazing up into the heavens as well. Their eyes met, and even with the distance between them, both knew that they had to put aside their quarrels. Danger was approaching them at a rapid pace, and they felt it within the very cores of their spirits. They had to be ready.

Legolas rushed down to where the others were, still peering into the sky as if trying to coax the heavens to reveal the presence he was itching to destroy. Aragorn immediately noticed Legolas's odd behavior, and he turned his gaze upwards.

"Legolas, what is it?" Aragorn called out to him in a hushed tone. "Is something amiss?"

"Something lingers in the air," Legolas said, motioning for Gimli to gather the hobbits into the safety of the shadows. "There is evil. Can you sense it?"

Aragorn nodded, his gaze never swaying from his upward observation, and as if on cue, a large dark body flew from the South and blocked the starlight from those watching below, its large wings flapping noiselessly in the air. From somewhere across the water, snarls and growls greeted the dark creature, and chills ran throughout the entire Company as the blackness descended upon them. Frodo gasped when the wound on his shoulder burned as if the creature's presence had reopened the gash, and Sam's worried eyes flashed in his direction as his Master's shaky hand grasped his cloak to endure the pain.

Elenmírë raised an unsteady arm as she took aim with her bow, and her breathing was shallow as she tried futilely to release the arrow she had ready, but without the comfort of light, she felt her fear take over her. Just as she brought her hand down to calm herself, the great bow of Lórien sang through the night as Legolas fearlessly shot the winged beast, and a shrill groan escaped its terrible mouth as it fell out of the air, vanishing down into the gloom of the eastern shore. As quickly as it had come, it was gone, and the moon and stars twinkled brightly down at them, greeting them with their light. The loud voices that had welcomed the creature were now silenced, but for the rest of the night, the Fellowship was unable to relax enough to let their guard down.

A few hours later, after Gimli had traded places with him to keep watch, Legolas made his way back down to the camp to find them all sleeping, save one person. Elenmírë sat quietly, though her shoulders were heaving, as if she were silently sobbing to herself. Making no noise whatsoever, Legolas crept toward her and could make out her cursing to herself as she whimpered, her shadow dancing with her movements.

"You are a coward, Elenmírë!" she hissed to herself in a small voice, that no one (save Elves) would be able to hear. The fire cackled in response, and a slight breeze blew against her face, as if to console her. "The company was in danger, and yet, like a coward, you could not do anything, and you call yourself a warrior!" She stifled a cough as she wiped her tears away. "Once again, all you can do is cry! You're nothing but a shameless, useless coward! What good are you to the Fellowship if you cannot even protect them! Boromir was right in leaving you! You don't deserve him, or Legolas, or Haldir, or anyone!" Legolas gulped down the lump that had formed in his throat as he listened to her, and although he was still angry with her, hearing her piteous wallowing enraged him even more.

Is this why she keeps herself from me? he questioned himself as she continued on her self-degradation. She still thinks that she is not worthy of my affections?

"But," she whispered in a strangely calm tone that grabbed his attention, "it is right that I do not deserve them, especially Legolas. I will only cause his death-" Legolas bit hard on his lip to prevent the surprise from escaping through his mouth, "-as I had seen in the Mirror. He will die if I get too close." A new onslaught of tears rolled down her cheeks as she winced in pain and closed her eyes, and Legolas realized with a start that Galadriel had shown her a glimpse of their future together, or rather, lack thereof.

Curse it all! he thought angrily. If I die, so be it, but do not bear this pain alone, Elenmírë! I will not allow it!

"So that was your purpose in keeping away from me," he stated, as he stepped towards her, and she stiffened immediately, rose to her feet, and spun around to gape at him.

"How much did you hear-"

"Enough to know why-"

"Do not come closer, I beg of you," she pleaded, backing away from him as she dried her tears with the sleeve of her tunic. "My words were not meant for you to hear-"

"Nevertheless, I heard them," he said evenly, though his eyes were ablaze with anger. "If my death is inevitable, then so be it, but stop this nonsense right now!" Though his voice was barely above that of a whisper, she flinched as if he had been bellowing at the top of his lungs.

"I do not want you to die. Do you not understand that?"

"And yet, you kill a bit of me each day by acting the way you do, do you not understand that!" he shot back, knowing that his sharp words sliced deeply into her, but she needed to hear them just as much as he needed to say them. "I have not had the privilege, or curse if you see it that way, of viewing into Galadriel's Mirror, but if my life's end is near, then I would rather share my remaining time with you-"

"But you will surely die-"

"Then let me die!" he muttered fervently. "My fate is my fate! If I am to walk my last upon this land within the next season, then it is my choice to do what I wish! You cannot chose for me." He was breathing heavily as he sped to her side, engulfing her in his arms, and at first, she fought him, but he wouldn't relent his hold on her. With one final, futile attempt, she collapsed against him, sobbing into his tunic. "You do not have to be strong at all times," he whispered into her ear as his hands traced comforting circles on her back. His anger slowly subsided, the sensation of having her in his arms once again weakening him.

"Why…?" she croaked at him in between her cries. "No matter how horrible my attitude is toward you, no matter how weak I am, why do you not leave me…?"

"I do not know," he replied truthfully, furrowing his brow as he searched for an answer. "I am just as stubborn as you, I suppose."

"But…Haldir," she sniffed pathetically. "I-I…"

"You love him, then…?" Legolas braced himself for the worst as he awaited the words that would surely cause him more grief.

"I know not." She sighed heavily. "Confusion seems to be my best friend as of late." There was a barest hint of wistfulness in her tone as her thoughts flew to the Elf she had left behind in Lothlórien, and it was not lost upon Legolas. Even her body language spoke volumes as her shoulders relaxed at the thought of Haldir, and Legolas suppressed the need to growl in frustration.

"The answer is obvious enough," he stated evenly, unwrapping his arms from her, and was disappointed to see the strength regaining in her composure, but he forced a tiny smile onto his face. "He means much to you if even the smallest thought of him can calm you in ways I cannot."

"I suppose you are right," she said softly, and Legolas kept his expression blank, though his hand itched to slap her for toying with him, even if she did not know she did so.

"Then I bid you good-night." He fled away from her, despite her cry of protest, and he hid within the dark shadows of the trees as she mechanically sat back down in front of the dying embers. Both Elves cried silent tears of regret, knowing that what had surpassed felt very much like a good-bye.

So much for reestablishing the group harmony, Legolas thought bitterly to himself as the Fellowship continued to row down the Great River the next day. His last encounter with Elenmírë not only made him rather uncomfortable, he was also the subject of minor scrutiny when Mary Sue lovingly pointed out to the rest of the company that he was paler than was normal for him, and the worried glances shot his way succeeded in bothering him even more. The threatening growls on the Eastern side of the river also did nothing to calm his nerves. Gimli, the only one who seemed to sense the Elf's anxiety, commented on nothing else save the enemies that littered the East, and for that, Legolas was grateful.

As they rowed toward a bend in the river, the sound of crashing water grew louder that even the Hobbits strained their necks to stare ahead, wondering where exactly the sound was coming from. As they rounded the bend a few minutes later, all ten pairs of eyes widened at the sight before them.

Two massive stone figures guarded each side of the river, staring almost menacingly at those who dared to enter their land. They each held up a huge, majestic hand, as their robes fell around them in intimidating cascades of stone. Elenmírë's mouth dropped slightly in amazement, taken aback at how small and insignificant she suddenly felt under their shadows.

"The Argonath," Aragorn whispered in awe from his boat, though her Elven ears caught them. "The kings of old…my kin." Elenmírë started at the information as the imposing statues kept her attention, and Mary Sue had to tug on her sleeve to keep the She-Elf from losing her focus on rowing their boat. Her cheeks flushing, Elenmírë realized that they had fallen behind the group because of her gawking, and she quickly set her mind to the task at hand, though, with a pang of regret, wished that she had been able to observe such an amazing sight when not on dire mission.

It was not until they were quite a distance away from the Argonath that Aragorn led them to shore, and it was only then did Elenmírë realize how far they had actually traveled when her eyes focused on the heavy mist that floated just over the other end of the river.

"Where's that lead to?" Mary Sue asked her, staring in the same general direction.

"Do you hear the sound?" the She-Elf questioned, tilting her head in challenge. "It is that of a huge waterfall. We have reached the Falls of Rauros-"

"How far is that from Rivendell?" She was eager for information, reminding Elenmírë of herself when she had been much younger. Growing up, she had pestered Elrond every day with questions about birds, trees and the creation of Arda, of the Valar and the distant lands that she never thought she would have been able to see. She gave Mary Sue a small smile, wondering how such a trivial question could bring back so many fond memories of her foster father.

"I do not know the exact distance, but we are many leagues away," Elenmírë answered, her eyes growing dim at the realization. "I have never been so far from home before-"

"It is a little scary, isn't it?" Mary Sue cut in with understanding shimmering in her violet eyes. "At least, it's easier for you, knowing that you and those you love are still under the same sky. As for me, I'm…I'm not even from this world. I don't even know how I'll be able to go back to…to my home. It's a scary thought." Elenmírë froze, not exactly knowing how to respond to her. It was the most either of them had ever revealed to one another as if they were friends, and for a moment, an awkwardness settled between them.

"We are more alike than I had cared to realize," Elenmírë found herself saying, "especially since we are not trying so hard to compete with each other over…a certain someone."

"You're right," Mary Sue agreed with a little laugh. "You're absolutely right. I guess when we have nothing to fight over, we can get along just fine…?"

"Mm." It was an odd feeling for Elenmírë, sharing her thoughts with someone she had once envied more than anyone, even more than the Evenstar. How was it possible that they got so close when they both did everything in their power to hurt one another?

"Hey, look, I'm really sorry," Mary Sue said suddenly. "You know, about what I said to you when we first met. It…it was cruel of me to judge you as quickly as I did-"

"I was just as guilty as you were," Elenmírë interrupted, not wondering why she was admitting to it now. It was disconcerting how off-guard she felt around this little girl she had thought she was so different from, only to discover that they were in essence, almost exactly the same. However, the only two females of the group had no time to ponder over their odd friendship when they heard the question that set all of them in a state of frenzy.

"Where's Frodo?" Merry, his arms full of firewood he had collected, stood by the fire that Gimli and Pippin had started. He looked at one shocked face to another, realizing that no one knew how to answer him. Elenmírë's eyes immediately saw the empty spot in which Boromir had occupied only moments before. A sinking premonition settled unpleasantly in the pit of her stomach as she looked over at Aragorn, his expression showing that he suspected exactly the same thing she did. With Boromir acting the way he had been over the past couple of weeks, it was a sure sign that Frodo would not be safe in his presence.

"Damn it!" Elenmírë yelped before she fled into the woods, paying no heed to the others as she quickly scanned the area, trying to take note of any broken branches or footprints left in the dirt. Panic shook her limbs as she thought of what Boromir was capable of; he was an excellent swordsman, and Frodo was no warrior. "We have let our guard down," she whispered to herself angrily, and she took no note of the cuts on her hands and face as she jumped through a thicket of sharp branches blocking her way. Her mind began to fill with doubt again as she frantically meandered throughout the woods with no clear path of where to go, or any clue as to what to do. She swallowed back the lump that had formed in her throat, helplessness weakening her yet again.

She paused in her search, panting heavily as she forced herself to calm down. "You will not be able to fight should you get flustered again!" she scolded herself. "Breathe, damn you, breathe!" She closed her eyes, forcing herself to focus her energy into what was important: protecting Frodo at all costs. She had not the time to stumble in her mind's endless debate of her own self-worth, especially when Frodo needed her.

Her eyes opened immediately when she heard a shout not too far from where she stood, and her legs sprung into action on their own accord, her instincts going into full swing.

"I am coming, Frodo!" she muttered in steely determination as the cries grew louder, clearer, and she nearly tripped on a moving log on the ground when she realized that the rolling object was Boromir.

"Frodo, I'm sorry!" the man was yelling insanely, his hands thrashing at the scattered leaves below him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Elenmírë stared at him blankly, disbelief stilling her movements. Frodo was not near as far as she could tell, and the sight of the broken man before her disturbed her more than she showed.

"Boromir…?" she whispered uncertainly and hesitated a moment before kneeling down next to him.

"Where is he!" he demanded tearfully. "Where did he go!"

"He is not here," she answered him, her hand discreetly moving to the hilt of her sword, but her precaution was not needed as he broke down once more into a sobbing fit. Not knowing what to do, she stayed as she was, contemplating whether to leave him in such a state and search for Frodo or to comfort the man she had once given her heart to.

"Elenmírë, I'm sorry!" he mumbled almost incoherently as he flung himself at her, his arms wrapping around her waist as his head landed unceremoniously on her lap. "I did not mean it, I did not mean to do what I did!" Her eyes grew larger as she gaped at him. He only wept, his tears dropping down his cheeks in a steady pace, wetting her leggings. Out of old habit, her hand ran through his hair to comfort him the way she used to when they had been together, and she was surprised at how silky the strands still felt.

"Shh," she pacified, as he tightened his hold on her, only sobbing harder.

"You do not understand," he cried. "I tried to take it from him, I tried to take the Ring from Frodo!" She refrained herself from gasping, though she should have known that with his odd behavior, she should not have been so surprised.

"You have not been yourself, Boromir," she comforted, her heart shattering at his breakdown and confession. It were not the images of the cold Boromir she had hurt in Lothlorien but of the kind Boromir she had fallen in love with in Rivendell that she remembered as she cradled his head in her lap as if it were the most precious of pearls. "You are not to be blamed-"

The unmistakable clanging of swords brought the two of them on alert as they broke free from one another, springing to their feet with the swords in their hands. The wave of black Orcs were already upon them, and Elenmírë hardly had enough time to marvel at their speed when one came close and swung at her head with a cleaver. She immediately ducked beneath its swing, and her sword went swiftly through its chest before it fell down on the grassy floor, creating a bloody dark pool of mud beneath its dying body.

However, not many of the other orcs seemed to care about her or Boromir for that matter; most seemed to be running away, as if in search of something far more important than them.

"Find the Hobbits!" one of them ordered in an angry growl. "FIND THE HOBBITS!" Boromir was at her side immediately, grabbing her arm to pull her along.

"We have to find them before they do," he barked at her, and she pulled her arm free from his grasp just in time to bring her sword up as an orc charged at her, running directly into the tip of her sword. She stared into its ugly, distorted face as its life sputtered away on her blade, and she recoiled, taking notice for the first time of its body, which was far more enormous than that of a regular orc.

"Wha-what are they!" she yelled over the noise as they continued to flee in the same direction as the wave of black bodies.

"I overheard Aragorn talking to Celeborn in Lothlórien," Boromir explained over his shoulder. "They are Uruk-hai, a cross between goblins and orcs-" His voice cut off as he was squarely punched in his back. He stabbed two more Uruks as Elenmírë came under attack, but she swirled around swiftly, leaving five dead in her wake.

"There they are!" Boromir cried out. "Merry and Pip-" He let out a strangled cry as he rushed over a make-shift bridge of a fallen tree where the two Hobbits stood frozen in fear as an Uruk came charging at them. As its weapon began its descent upon their heads, Boromir grabbed the hilt in time, knocking the Uruk out of the way as he ushered Merry and Pippin close to him before he brought his Horn to his lips and blew.

The loud tune startled Elenmírë, and she nearly stumbled as she ran to catch up with the man and two Hobbits, having forgotten that he had carried the heirloom with him wherever he traveled. He had told her once that it would always bring help whenever he needed it, and she only prayed that the tale would ring true as the four of them fought to keep the Hobbits from out of their enemies' reach.

Not too far off, Legolas heard the plaintive cry of the horn, and immediately stopped in his tracks, turning to the sound. "The Horn of Gondor!" he yelped, only to have Aragorn rush past him.

"Boromir!" he barely had time to mutter as he encountered another attack.

"There's too many of them!" Mary Sue cried out, wielding her own sword with expertise.

"They're not all attacking, lass," Gimli grunted. "Hurry and follow the sound of the Horn!"

"Boromir is in dire need of help," Legolas hissed, shooting arrows in every which direction, "though, he is not alone-"

"What do you mean!" Mary Sue sputtered, driving her sword into a mangled face, its black blood spurting out all over her. She barely had time to express her disgust when another Uruk cut into her right leg, and grimacing in pain, she hacked off his head in one swoop of her blade.

"Elenmírë is with him, I know it," Legolas said, running toward the sound of the blowing horn, Mary Sue and Gimli just behind him. Aragorn was the only one out of the four who advanced the farthest and the fastest, and Legolas fleetingly hoped that the heir could only reach Boromir and Elenmírë in time.

"Run!" Boromir snapped at Merry and Pippin, but they paid no heed as they stayed, attacking any that dared to sneak up on their friends from behind. They held their daggers bravely, using their quickness to their advantage as they stabbed the Uruks from below.

Elenmírë felt a shove on her shoulder, and she shot Boromir and irritated glare. "There's no time to argue!" he scowled. "Take the Hobbits and flee, now!"

"But-" she tried to protest.

"No time, just go!" he yelled fiercely. "It is your duty, Elenmírë! Let me divert their attention away-"

"They will just hunt us down and annihilate us later!" she countered. "We will fight together as one! I will not leave you behind-" For a moment, she saw a tiny spark of appreciation within the fire of his eyes, and he nodded, a small smile on his lips, painfully reminding her of the peaceful moments they stole together in the quiet of Rivendell. She hungrily drank in the expression on his face, not having seen such a reminder of his former self in what seemed like ages. His free hand caught hers, and he gave a gentle squeeze before he returned to the task at hand. She let her hand fall to her side, but she was unable to tear her gaze from him, wondering why it was only then her Boromir had come back-

She fell to her knees as something slammed into her right shoulder, throwing her to the ground in a heap, her head landing hard on a slant of rock as she slipped. Blood trickled from the gash, but she could only blink skeptically at the black arrow embedded in her body. However, when she tried to raise her right arm, an electric bolt of pain made her gasp, and she twitched as she tried to get up. Boromir blinked blankly at the wound before angrily spinning around to glare at the offender who had injured her. He only had enough time to react and place his body between Elenmírë and the next arrow that came flying in her direction.

"No!" she screamed as he fell to her side, and she noted, though her head was spinning madly, that the arrow he had taken for her was buried just above where his heart was. "Boromir, no…"

By some miracle, he was on his feet, as if he hadn't been hit at all, fighting to protect both the Hobbits as well as Elenmírë, who lay writhing in pain just behind him. Merry and Pippin, their faces crumbling, tried to rush to her, but as another Orc approached from behind, they returned to their fighting with more zeal as Elenmírë could do nothing but watch.

"I must do something," she growled through gritted teeth. "I must-"

A thud snapped her out of her monologue as Boromir fell a second time, almost collapsing on top of her, and she exhaled sharply as the breath was knocked out of her. Her lids wanted to close, but she forced them open, squinting as she made out another arrow in the middle of Boromir's chest. He panted, his breathing growing laborious, but he rose to his feet once again, taking four more enemies down before another shot embedded an arrow in his stomach.

"No!" Elenmírë whimpered weakly, her eyes filling with tears as he stayed kneeling in front of her fallen body. Refusing to let him fight alone, she drew herself up, but to her utmost horror, Merry and Pippin were suddenly carried away from behind her, and she crawled on her side, reaching out her left arm to trip those who had grabbed her friends, but it was no use. Her eyes locked with Merry's tearful ones as he struggled against the strong arms that held him, and Elenmírë sobbed, shaking her head. Using whatever energy she had left, she picked herself up on shaky legs to chase after them when another stinging pain engulfed her left thigh, and she fell again to the floor, landing hard on her injured shoulder. Her head rolled to the side, as Boromir collapsed beside her. The Uruk archer merely sneered at the two of them before he ran to follow his group, a sickeningly satisfied smile on his crooked lips.

"Boromir…" Her eyes were not deceiving her. Though the arrows were still protruding from within his torso, blood spots were forming where they had hit, and his face had already grown ashen, his lips pale. She sniffed nosily as he turned his gaze to her, and though the former couple inched closer to one another, one slipped toward death.

Boromir coughed and sputtered, his punctured lungs now filling with liquid and blood, but even in his intense pain, he twitched his lips into a smile as if to reassure her, though the smile did not reach his eyes.

"It is over." His whisper could barely be heard, and she shook her head even more fervently at him, though she grimaced in agony that the movement caused her. She could barely see his face clearly through her blurry tears, but she could feel his gloved hand on her cheek, clutching to her as his glassy eyes tried to memorize the details of her face.

"No!" she hissed at him angrily. "We will not say good-bye here-"

"I loved you still," he rasped, as though she had not spoken. "Despite my words in the Golden Wood, I still loved you-"

"Stop it, please, Boromir," she pleaded. "Not like this, please do not-"

"…It is done-"

"Boromir!"

"Elenmírë!"

The chorus of voices seemed so far away,She could not lift her head, but her entire body was on fire as arms gently wrapped around her and a pair of deep blue eyes flooded her line of vision. She turned away deliriously as she looked for Boromir, only to see Aragorn over him, speaking in soft tones.

"No, Boromir…"

"Elenmírë," Legolas whispered to her, "we must clean your wounds. Thank the Valar they are not as deep-"

"But Boromir…"

"Lie still," he instructed softly, his eyes filling with worry when she would not pay any heed to his words. He followed her gaze in time to see Aragorn place his hand over Boromir's eyes, closing them for one final time.

"No," Elenmírë's voice was hoarse. "No…no…no! NO!" Her attempts to pull away were easily countered, and she pummeled weakly at Legolas's chest when he refused to let her go. Her shoulders shook as an anguished cry tore from her lungs, and she fought against Legolas with renewed vigor.

"He has passed," Legolas confirmed quietly as her tears began their quick flood down her cheeks, his hold on her still firm.

"He attempted to say…good-bye," she choked. "I-I could not…No! NO! He…my life…he protected…I-I c-could n-not say-" A massive wave of guilt drowned her even deeper into her sorrow as she babbled inarticulately, but through the fragmented phrases, Legolas deduced that Boromir had in fact given his life for Merry and Pippin…and for Elenmírë. His vision blurred as he stared at Boromir's corpse, finally able to appreciate his comrade's bravery and loyalty. Any thought of his weakness against the One Ring was burned away from memory as Elenmírë drooped in his arms, falling unconscious from her emotional turmoil and loss of blood.

"We must tend to her quickly," Aragorn stated evenly, approaching the two Elves, "and Boromir…" His voice trailed off as he cleared his throat.

"We cannot leave him like carrion among these foul Orcs," Legolas continued, knowing what Aragorn had wanted to say.

"But we must be swift!" Gimli cut in, trudging slowly to the group before leaning against his ax. "He would not wish us to linger."

"What happened?" Mary Sue called out to them as she slowly jogged to the group, her eyes growing wide as she studied the scene before her. She was a little scathed, but was perfectly well overall. As her gaze landed on the fallen Boromir and injured Elenmírë, she let out a small gasp. "Boromir…?"

"He is dead," Aragorn informed solemnly, turning away, and Mary Sue fought to control herself, but as she glanced down at Elenmírë, her resolve faded.

"Is she…?"

"Not yet," Legolas stated determinedly. "She will live." Mary Sue nodded, though she looked doubtful as she kneeled next to him, brushing away Elenmírë's bloodied hair from her face.

"And what of the Hobbits?" Gimli gripped his ax anxiously. "Where is Frodo?"

"I do not know," Aragorn answered wearily, "but we must hurry. We must make haste and follow, should there be survivors of our Fellowship within their grasp. We have not the time to make a mound for Boromir, but we must give him a proper ceremony." He sighed heavily, his eighty or so years showing a little on his tired face, but as his determination flooded through his veins, he straightened, the leader buried within him beginning to emerge. "Let us lay him in a boat with his weapons, and the weapons of his vanquished foes," he decided. "We shall send him to the Falls of Rauros and give him to Anduin. The River of Gondor will take care at least that no evil creature dishonors his bones."

Elenmírë stood stoically on the shore, her eyes trained on the boat that carried her first love over to the Falls of Rauros. She no longer had tears left as she watched the boat bobble gently along its path, but her heart skipped a few beats as the boat finally tipped over the edge, taking Boromir with it. A lump formed in her throat as the five of them bowed their heads reverently, and seconds later Legolas and Aragorn began a slow melody, singing of the North, South and West winds paying tribute to their fallen brother.

She refused to cry any longer, bringing her hand to cup her injured shoulder, and though it stung, the pain was a bitter reminder that she was still alive because of Boromir. It would not do to mourn forever when they still had a mission to accomplish, a mission that Boromir had died for. He would not have wanted her to cry more tears than she had already; he would not have wanted her to waste the life he had fought bravely to protect.

"I will honor your gift and live, love," she whispered, hoping that the kind winds would carry her words to where he was now, praying that he could hear her. "I vow to you, I will bring our friends back. I promise." Though she had sworn not to cry, a single teardrop found its way unto her cheek, and she allowed it to continue its path down the curve of her face.

"We cannot tarry," Aragorn commented, drawing her out of her thoughts. "We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment to death." His eyes gleamed, and the two Elves, Dwarf and girl nodded in agreement, smiles of hope etched onto their faces. "Let us away!" He fled into the wood, and they took after him.

Though her injured thigh protested at the sudden exertion, Elenmírë bore the ache, each painful step reminding her of what her true purpose was. She was still alive, and with his death, Boromir taught her the importance of her own existence. He fought and died for them all, and she was not about to let his sacrifice go to waste.

She continued to run.

TBC...
01/19/06 - (and yes, this story will be continued!)