*** Cath Sith: Wow, your German is good!! :o) And thank you everybody for all those awesome reviews!!!

I got a few e-mails from people who tried to convince me to change this into Aragorn/Legolas-slash, so I changed the summary and pointed out (again) that this will not be a slash story. Honestly, I have nothing against slash, not at all! I enjoy quite some slash fics (as long as they are written well, like the ones of Riley and torturedwriter for example, I love those ones!), but I don't want to include it in this story. In my opinion it wouldn't fit in at all. So please, stop asking me to put sexual encounters between Aragorn and Legolas in here! Thank you! ***

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Since the day Boromir had almost suffocated, the kidnappers had not gagged him again. He still was blindfolded and the rope around his wrists continued to make his skin sore, but his mouth remained released. Boromir had not spoken one single word during the few days that had passed since the incident, but he listened well. The kidnappers had slowly started to make more conversation while they rode to wherever they planned to bring him and Boromir had caught every word. He now knew that there were seven men and he could distinguish their voices and had discovered rather big differences in their characters. Boromir easily had found out who was the leader of the group. And he had found out which one of the men was most likely to betray his comrades and perhaps help him to flee. It was the youngest member of the group and therefore probably easily to manipulate.

"I can see the river," the leader suddenly said as if there was a big meaning to it. After a pause he added, "We will rest a few minutes once we've reached it."

The others agreed with grateful murmurs. Soon Boromir could hear the sound of water flowing fast and he immediately got even more thirsty than he was already. They gave him very little to drink, not even every day. It was far too less to let him regain some energy, but enough to keep him alive. He had not eaten anything since the assault in the woods and felt weaker with every day.

Once again he was roughly pulled from the horse and thrown to the ground. When he noticed that all the kidnappers and the horses were obviously at the shore of the river and he was alone he started to fumble with the rope that tied him up. The knots were well made and very firm, but he managed to loosen one of them a tiny bit. Before he had a chance to open another knot he heard steps approaching him quickly. He clenched his teeth in expectation to be beaten again, but nothing like that happened. Somebody squatted down next to him and put a hand around the backside of his head. When something cold touched his dry lips he tried to back away, but the hand kept him in position.

"Only water. Drink," a young voice said. The water was very cold and it was painful when it ran down his throat, but Boromir couldn't help drinking greedily until there was nothing left.

"Thank you," he forced himself to say. His voice was hoarse and low as these were the two first words he had spoken in many days. He cleared his throat while he waited for a reply, but there was none. He could feel that the man watched him closely, but he didn't say a word. Boromir tried hard to think of something he could say to make the man speak. This was perhaps his only chance to build up a conversation with the only kidnapper who seemed to be in doubts about what they were doing and obviously had a conscience. Or at least a heart that was able to feel for the victim. Boromir parted his lips to speak, but suddenly the man whispered: "I will try to get you something to eat."

"Why?" Boromir asked back in a low voice, "Why are you doing this for me?"

"We shall not talk. Better be quiet, Boromir of Gondor."

"What is your name?" Boromir wanted to know.

"I can not tell you. And now hush," he whispered.

"Hey! What are you doing?!" an angry voice hollered from the shore of the river. It was the voice of their leader. The young man at Boromir's side rose on his feet while the head of the group approached them quickly.

"How dare you talking to him, you fool?!" he screamed furiously when he had joined them.

"I just..."

"Shut up!"

The slap was heavy, but the beaten man didn't make a single noise. He accepted the punishment silently.

"Did I allow you to bring him water?!" the leader yelled. Another slap, harder this time. "I asked you a question, boy!"

"No, sir, you did not," was the low reply.

"Correct, I did not!"

When the third bash hit the face of the young man words broke from Boromir's lips.

"Stop beating on him, he is only a boy!"

"You are not in the position to give any orders!" the kidnapper responded angrily and kicked Boromir in his ribs.

"I am sorry, sir. But he was thirsty and..."

"Thirsty you say?!" the leader interrupted and then pulled Boromir on his feet, "You are right, we shall help this poor nobleman and make him feel comfortable! Come, my dear Lord Boromir, and drink as much as you wish!"

He violently dragged Boromir with him until they reached the shore of the river and then pushed him hard. Boromir stumbled forwards, not able to keep his balance and fell into the cold water. The river was not very deep and he could easily reach the soft ground with his feet, but before he could stand up properly again a strong hand grabbed the back of his neck and ducked him roughly. Boromir struggled hard and moved heavily, but he just couldn't free his head. Water entered his nose, his lungs started to ache and he felt panic rising inside of him. Just before he thought he would faint, his head was abruptly pulled out of the water again. He inhaled so heavily that he almost hyperventilated.

"I believe he is still thirsty!" the cold voice of the kidnapper's leader came from somewhere from the shore. Before Boromir could take one more breath he was forced down under the surface of the water again. While he was trying to fight against the hands of his opponent with the use of his whole body he noticed that the water was helping him loosening the rope around his wrists. He tugged at it like mad and finally managed to pull out one hand with great efforts and massive pain. He did not care that the skin of the back of his hand was ripped open, he did not care that one of his fingers seemed to break when he freed it violently. He was not going to let this man drown him.

Boromir's hand shot to the wrist of the man's hand that was holding him down and grabbed it tightly, turning it as far around as he could with a very strong and abrupt movement. He felt bones cracking underneath his firm grip and the man cried out in pain and let go. Boromir was released. He quickly ripped the rope of his other hand and got rid of the blindfold. The bright sun hurt his eyes as he had seen nothing than total darkness for many days. Then, when his eyes slowly got used to the light, the first thing he saw was a fist flying towards his face. A sharp pain exploded on his left cheekbone and he almost fell backwards from the massive impact of the punch. He only kept his balance because he grabbed the arm of his attacker. Boromir pulled the man closer and knocked his own head against the other one's face. A flood of blood burst from the kidnappers broken nose and he winced, but still continued to fight. The other ones watched the whole scene being rather amused and only interfered when Boromir had managed to be the one in the lead. Now he was the one who ducked a man under water, trying to drown him in the cold river.

Two men joined them in the water, pulled Boromir from the body of their comrade and dragged him back to the shore. When Boromir tried to fight them as well, one of them pulled a dagger and pressed it against Boromir's neck to make him go calm again.

"Why didn't you do something to help me?!" the man who had been fighting with Boromir asked furiously once he was at the shore, too. "Look at my face!"

"Stop whining! The only reason why I did not let him kill you is that it is too much effort to carry a corpse with us and we can't leave your dead body behind!" the leader yelled at him and then turned around to face Boromir. It was the first time they were face to face, looking one another in the eyes.

"Not bad, Boromir of Gondor, really not bad," he said and squatted down. Then he raised his arm and grabbed Boromir's jaw with a gloved hand. The lock of his strong fingers was firm and painful, but Boromir did not try to back away. He returned the cold stare that pierced his own eyes.

"I have to admit that I am slightly impressed by the way you refuse to submit. But believe me, you will give up soon. I will demolish your strength, break your will, and make you obey. When I start with what I have planned for you, you will ask me to stop and to let you live. And when I'm finished with what I have planned for you, you will want to die. You will beg for mercy like a coward."

"Never," Boromir pressed the words out between clenched teeth, "Never will I beg you for mercy."

"Are you sure, Boromir of Gondor?" the kidnapper asked and an evil, dark smile spread across his rugged face.

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Legolas sensed that he was being followed again, but this time it was no wolf. He felt unease creeping up his neck, as if somebody could try to attack him from behind every minute. After a few more steps he decided that it would be best to make a stop and lie in wait for whoever was following him instead of trying to run away. He probably had no chance of getting away as he was only traveling by foot. Quickly he left his horse grazing and hid behind a group of trees from where he could oversee quite some space. With his bow in his hands he waited silently, listening to the sounds from the woods.

He did not have to wait very long until a rider came by. He straddled a big, strong horse and wore a long brown cloak with a big hood that hid his face. He slowed his stallion down when he discovered Legolas's horse and then got down on the ground with a surprisingly light impact.

Legolas silently watched the stranger squatting down and searching the ground for traces. When he got up again, the wide cloak parted only for a second, but it was enough for Legolas to see the long sword he carried at his belt underneath the cape. The man went over to the white horse and looked at it more closely. He then softly patted its neck and looked around, obviously searching for the rider of the white animal, but he didn't discover the elf. His moves were smooth, almost graceful when he started to walk around the place, a hand hidden under his cloak, obviously resting on the hilt of his sword. Without knowing it himself, he approached Legolas' hiding place. The elf carefully took one of his arrows and drew his bow, not making a single sound. He did not intend to kill the man, but he did not want to get killed himself either. As long as he did not know who he was and what he wanted, he had to protect himself, being ready to kill if he needed to.

When the stranger was quite close Legolas left his hiding place abruptly, the ready arrow aiming directly at the head of the stranger who was only few steps away.

"Hold it!" the elf said. The man stopped and stood still.

"Remove your hood!" Legolas demanded, but the stranger didn't react.

"Show me your face or I will have to kill you!" Legolas tried again and stepped even closer to the other one, the point of his arrow only inches away from the face that lay hidden in darkness. Gloved hands were lifted to the hood and pulled it back with a swift movement. Legolas' eyes widened in surprise when the stranger's head was revealed.

"A woman...?" he muttered startled and let his weapon sink a bit. She took her chance and attacked him rapidly, making their bodies collide heavily when he was caught up in astonishment for a second and successfully wrestled him down to the ground as she had taken him by surprise. He let go of his bow and tried to grab her arms to hold her still, but she was a lot stronger than he had thought she would be. At first he hesitated to fight her, after all she was a woman, but when she punched him in the face heavily, making his lower lip bleed, he replied with equal determination. They rolled around on the muddy ground together, fighting for the lead, until Legolas finally managed to be on top and pin her down. She struggled hard to get rid of him, but he quickly pulled one of his daggers and hold it close to her neck.

"Do not move or I will put an end to your life," he said calmly but determined. She did as he said, but her eyes fixed him with a furious sparkle. She was not afraid.

"Who are you? What are you doing in these woods, all on your own?" Legolas asked, still pressing her body down to the ground with his own one, one of his hands around her right wrist, his dagger against her neck.

"And who are you, wandering alone through the woods with an injured horse?" she shot back. They stared at each other for a while until Legolas said: "I am on a mission to rescue a friend."

He noticed a change in her facial expression when she heard his words.

"Tell me, is this friend of yours Lord Boromir of Gondor?" she asked. He pressed the blade of the knife even harder against her neck, but careful enough to not cut the pale skin yet.

"Speak, what do you know?" he demanded.

"Nothing that could help to rescue Lord Boromir. I was sent by Steward Ribensis, I have news to bring to Lord Atalar and the company he is with."

"A female messenger?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yes. My name is Inunyen and I have been running errands for Steward Ribensis of Katalla for many years. Take me to Lord Atalar, he will tell you that I speak the truth as he knows me well."

Hesitatingly, Legolas withdrew his dagger from her neck.

"I am Legolas, prince of Mirkwood," he introduced himself while he moved from her and rose on his feet again. He offered her one of his hands to help her up, but she ignored it and rose without his aid. Wiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, he watched her straighten her clothes and beating the dust out of her cloak. She was very tall and strong for a woman, and her face was harsh. Her full lips and the soft curves of her brows indicated that she had been a pretty maiden once, but over the years had for some reason grown rough and hard. Her long red hair was pulled back to a ponytail, curly at the ends, but due to their small fight some long strands were now loose and fell over her pale, green eyed face.

"How come you are alone? Where is the rest of the company?" she suddenly asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"As my horse is wounded they left me behind and continued with the search without me for now. But I promised to catch up soon."

"I see," she said and then turned around to get back to the horses. Legolas followed her silently.

"You may ride with me, prince of Mirkwood," she stated when she climbed her horse with one single, elegant movement.

"Ride with you?" he echoed, getting hold of his horse's reins.

"I always thought elves do have splendid hearing abilities..." she teased him and rose a red eyebrow.

"They do. I was just... surprised."

"Well then, do you come? My horse is strong enough to carry both of us."

Legolas hesitated at first, but he had to admit that they could go much faster like this as his horse still couldn't carry him. He didn't trust her, but he had to take the chance. He doubted he would ever reach the company without the help of this strange lady and her horse. So he climbed behind her, the reins of his own horse still in one hand.

"You wish to take this injured horse with you?" she asked a bit surprised.

"Of course I do. It is not only a horse but a loyal friend to me. It can not carry me, but it still can run fast, it will not slow us down," Legolas said.

"As you wish. And now hold tight."

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*** Please, don't forget to leave a little (or huge...) review to let me know how you liked it! :o) ***