Disclaimer: There one was a girl from the 'burbs,
Who was more than slightly perturbed,
That she was forced to write these ridiculous rhymes,
Saying, "No, LOTR is certainly not mine,
Peter Jackson, this is getting absurd."
A/N: Ha ha…limericks are FUN! Anyhow, I've decided to just write the last scene of FOTR and go on to TT if I need to…I'll use the book until I can find the script (therefore if the dialogue is different, that'll be why.) But I might get lucky and be able to use the script…hopefully.
Chapter Twenty
Our sixth and final day on the river was by far the most interesting, if not the most exciting.
We started out early, like any other morning, with Gimli in a less than agreeable mood, creating noticeable tension for the rest of us. I made an effort to not bother him, but apparently my general existence is annoying so it didn't work out too well anyway.
Around noon we began to approach a large rocky cliff that had been split in half by the blue river. As we drew closer to the jagged walls, I was able to pick out two massive figures that have been carved out of the stony surface. Both wore long flowing robes and elegant helmets that only a king would wear into battle. The one on my right had a neatly trimmed beard and clutched a long sheathed sword to his chest. The other was bare faced, resting his colossal hand on the cliffs. Both of them had extended their left hands, their palms facing forward, almost as if they were forbidding us to continue. Either that or they were planning on high-fiving any traveler who happened to pass by.
As we glided along the river toward the two stony guardsmen, I became aware of their immense size. How they were created was beyond me, especially since there was no such thing as a jackhammer or anything else of the sort.
"Frodo," Aragorn murmured, tapping the hobbit on the shoulder, "The Argonath." He motioned to the two sculptures. "Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old, my kin." I looked up at them as we passed by their sandaled feet, the cracks in the stone decorated with moss and other undergrowth. I saw no resemblance other then the fact that the one on my right was almost as overprotective of his weaponry as Aragorn.
That was probably the most interesting sight I saw that day. The Anduin would seriously not make it as a tourist attraction. There were two big statues and eight hundred billion trees that all looked annoyingly similar. Maybe if they built a couple hotels or water parks…
As the day went on, I began to become aware of a slightly sinister aura that had enveloped the river. I felt like I was being watched. No one else seemed as nervous as I was. I shifted uneasily in my seat, casting my eyes downward in hopes that I would deter my silent watcher from further observation.
We moored the boats in late afternoon on the riverbank, a good way off from where the Anduin gave off into a waterfall. The feeling of uneasiness had subsided slightly to the point where I was able to sit for a good twenty minutes or so without feeling watched.
"We cross at nightfall, hide the boats, and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north," Aragorn explained as he moved some gear from the boat. Gimli angrily tossed a stick on the fire.
"Oh yes?" the dwarf inquired, a slight annoyance growing in his tone. "Just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil, an impassable labyrinth of razor-sharp rocks? And after that, it gets even better!" Pippin stopped chewing as his face fell, his eyes widening slightly. "Festering, stinking marshland as far as the eye can see!" He drew this phrase out long, with great emphasis on the adjectives. I sighed heavily. Not only was he pessimistic, but also it looked like we were pretty well screwed.
"That is our road," Aragorn replied simply, and I was able to detect a little bit of an attitude. "I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf." Gimli looked slightly taken aback.
"Recover my—" he exclaimed angrily. He made a grunt of displeasure. I licked my index finger and held it in the air.
"Pssssssssssssst…"
Gimli looked at me angrily and muttered something incomprehensible. Probably praying for my eternal damnation in dwarvish or something equally pleasant.
"You know, some day you're going to get bitch slapped*…" I replied, pointing my finger at him. He grumbled again and glared, although he probably had little or no idea of the meaning of my comment.
Looking uneasy and slightly stressed, Legolas hurriedly approached Aragorn, speaking in an undertone.
"We should leave now."
"No," Aragorn replied bluntly. "Orcs patrol the eastern shore. We must wait for cover of darkness."
"It is not the eastern shore that worries me," Legolas replied, searching the foliage with his gaze, looking for some hidden enemy. "A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near, I can feel it."
"In other words, this place is as creepy as hell so let's leave," I replied. "Preferably sooner than later." Aragorn cast a slightly annoyed glance at me, one that was becoming all too familiar.
"Recover strength?" Gimli muttered as Merry dumped some firewood in a pile on the ground. I rolled my eyes. "Pay no heed to that, young hobbit." Merry stood up and glanced around, releasing a stream of air from his mouth.
"Where's Frodo?" he asked Aragorn. Both Aragorn and Legolas looked up and searched the area for the hobbit. Sam abruptly sat up, having succumbed to a sleepy stupor, looking anxiously for any sign of his master. A somewhat worried and disturbed expression came across Aragorn's face as his glance fell upon the area that Boromir had previously occupied. He too had vanished, leaving his shield and other belongings unceremoniously abandoned at the foot of the tree.
"Frodo…" murmured Aragorn, the slightest hint of fear creeping into his voice. I looked at the Ranger, waiting for some sort of instruction. After a moment he snapped back into reality. "We must divide up into parts and arrange—" he began. But his words fell upon deaf ears. Sam, Pippin, and Merry almost immediately dashed off, shouting for Frodo. Gimli, already angered and in want of a good fight, ran off in the opposite direction, growling and shouting as he ran. Legolas took this moment to go off in another direction, probably planning on doing something stealthy that only he understood. Shrugging, I followed him, as I was not planning on going off on my own, as I was feeling rather paranoid. And I rarely listened to Aragorn, so why start now?
*
I followed Legolas for quite awhile, looking for God-knows-what. He refused to answer my questions, putting a finger to his lips whenever I tried to speak.
We were climbing a rather steep hill when he suddenly froze, seeming to hear something.
"What? What's wrong?" I asked.
"Shh…" he whispered, silencing me with a wave of his hand. I closed my mouth and listened intently for anything unusual. Far off in the distance I heard crashing sounds, almost as if some large bulldozer had found its way into Middle-earth and had decided to clear the forest to make room for a shopping mall. Horrible grunts and snarls accompanied the noise, sounding too primitive to belong to a human, yet too terrifying to belong to any animal. I felt a shiver of fear creep up my spine.
"What is that?" I asked softly.
"I do not know…" Legolas replied, his brow creasing in worry. "Ready your weapon," he advised after a moment, withdrawing his bow and an arrow. "For I do believe that our foes will soon be upon us."
I unsheathed my sword, my hands shaking slightly as I absorbed what Legolas had just said.
"Trust yourself," a familiar voice whispered in my mind. I smiled thoughtfully, not knowing whether the old wizard was sending me a message or whether I had completely lost it. But those two words, whether imagined or not, gave me confidence and I leapt after Legolas as he took off in the direction of the noise.
As we ran, the sounds became louder and more distinct. I started to hear the rattle of armor and weaponry clanking together, and rough voices shouting commands in an unfamiliar language. A strange odor began to fill the air, smelling of unwashed bodies, sweat, and something else that was undistinguishable, but equally unpleasant.
The trees were starting to thin and I could tell that we were very close to whatever creature that was terrorizing the countryside. Surprisingly, I had remained in control of myself and the tremble in my hand was miniscule.
And then I caught a glimpse of them.
They stood about six feet tall, broad in the shoulders and waist. Their skin was leathery and black, with an occasional scarlet blotch. A white handprint had been painted upon their faces, their own hideously frightening war paint. Upon their heads rested stringy and coarse black hair that looked like it had never been washed. Their eyes were as yellow as those of a black cat on Halloween, burning with hate and malice, a desire for death and destruction. Their nostrils were slit, like a snake's, and their misshapen mouths opened to bare their hideously deformed teeth, tinged with a black substance that was unidentifiable, their gums swollen and grossly infected. Their eyeteeth were pointed, like a lizard or a snake's, presumably used for carnivorous purposes. I later learned that they were the Fighting Uruk-Hai, a crossbreed of the goblins and orcs, and apparently plagued with terminal ugliness.
I heard the clash of weapons and the grunts of the Uruk-Hai as they came upon one of our Company. I recognized Aragorn's masculine voice rising above the clamor as he launched into battle. Legolas motioned for me to follow him, obviously formulating some strategic battle plan in his intricate mind. That was the difference between us: Legolas planned his attacks; I just hacked at whatever attacked me.
"Find the Halflings!" I heard a hideously warped voice shout as I ran after Legolas. "Find the Halflings!" An anxious fear for the four hobbits began to flood my mind as I rounded a corner, nearly knocking into an axe-wielding Gimli. I followed the dwarf out into the battle, sword in hand. Legolas released an arrow and then ran to help Aragorn up from under the body of a dead Uruk-Hai. Gimli angrily sprung into action, taking down anything that came near his deadly axe. My display of my swordsmanship was not nearly as flamboyant or practiced as anyone else's, but all I was really concerned with was staying alive at that point.
"Aragorn! Go!" shouted Legolas readying another arrow. Aragorn dashed away, leaving us to fend for ourselves. I sighed and readied my sword.
*
I don't know how long I fought. I managed to keep myself more or less intact, receiving several scratches and bruises on several occasions. I also discovered a very successful battle tactic: if it's looking bad for you, give your enemy a good kick in the family jewels. As far as I know, several Uruk-Hai can no longer be classified as men…
Sometime later the bellowing call of a horn broke the battle calls and clashes of weaponry. Legolas paused and looked toward the source of the noise.
"The Horn of Gondor!" he exclaimed.
"Boromir!" murmured Aragorn, who had since rejoined us. He took off in the direction of which the horn had sounded from, mercilessly disposing of anything that got in his way. I brought my sword out of a twitching Uruk Hai and ran after Legolas and Aragorn, trying to keep pace with the two.
It seemed to take me forever to reach Boromir. I eventually lost sight of Aragorn, caught up in a battle between a rather disgruntled group of Uruk-Hai. I think it may have had something to do with my kicking habits…or they may have just been angry in general.
I sprinted after Legolas, hoping that Aragorn had reached Boromir in time. I scaled a hill to find mounds of slain and maimed Uruk-Hai scattered about the forest floor. Amongst the lifeless corpses crouched Aragorn, bending over what looked like Boromir.
I carefully picked my way through the dead and stood next to Legolas who was a good bit away from the two, wearing a mixed expression of sorrow and pity. I looked at Boromir, who lay gasping for breath, three feathered arrows protruding from his chest. I allowed myself a sad smile. It took three arrows to bring him down. It struck me as bittersweet because he was always such a strong fighter and he wouldn't let one blow kill him. He would fight to the very end.
"I would have followed you, my brother," he gasped, his voice raspy as death came close. "My captain. My king." The tears that had formed in my eyes trailed down my cheeks. It was a moment that was incredibly upsetting, yet strangely beautiful in its entirety. Boromir took a few more labored breaths and then suddenly relaxed as death claimed him. Aragorn bent his head and touched his forehead and lips with his fist, and bent over Boromir.
"Be at peace, Son of Gondor," he whispered, kissing Boromir's cold forehead. Tears were flowing freely down my cheeks as he did this and I struggled to remain in control of myself as the Ranger stood up. The sunlight made his face glow and it lit up the single crystalline tear that traveled slowly down his cheek. I bowed my head slightly, fearing that if I looked at him too long, I would break down entirely.
"We must bring his body to the boats," Aragorn said after a moment. "Gimli, cut some branches so we may construct a bier to bear him on."
The dwarf obligingly cut some branches with his axe and Legolas lashed them together with bowstrings. We spread our cloaks over the rough contraption and Aragorn and Legolas lay the body of Boromir upon the cloaks and proceeded to lift the device like a stretcher. I gathered the weapons of the departed soldier and followed Aragorn and Legolas with Gimli trailing close behind me.
We reached our campsite a good while later. I had stopped crying by then and was reduced to an occasional sniff or two. I helped Aragorn empty one of the boats, noticing that one of them was missing. Looking out over the river, I saw the aforementioned boat heading toward the shore of the opposite bank, with two smallish people inside it. I knew it was Frodo and Sam, as Aragorn had told us, much to my dismay, that Merry and Pippin had been kidnapped. Allowing a few tears to fall, I silently prayed for the safety of the two friends on their journey.
We arranged Boromir in the empty boat, his sword clutched in his still hands, his shield resting up above his head, his horn, now cloven in two, by his elbow. Aragorn removed the arrows from his body and placed them at his feet with the swords of his enemies. Once this was done, we released the boat out on the river, allowing the water to carry it according to its will.
"Hurry!" Legolas called once the boat had disappeared over the waterfall. "Frodo and Sam have reached the eastern shore!" He grabbed the remaining boat and brought it out to the water. He looked back at Aragorn's sullen and silent form. "You mean not to follow them," he replied, somewhat sadly.
"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands," Aragorn replied simply. I sighed, trying to keep back tears.
"Then it has all been in vain," Gimli said, a hint of depression creeping into his tone. "The Fellowship has failed." I felt my stomach knot up as the truth of his words fully sunk in. Aragorn slowly approached us, placing his hand on Gimli's and my shoulder.
"Not if we hold true to each other," he replied quietly. Gimli clapped his hand on Aragorn's forearm. I felt a strong hand grip my shoulder as Legolas followed suit. Hesitantly, I did the same, resting my hand on Aragorn's and Legolas' shoulders. It was a very empowering moment, but I still couldn't help feeling like I was some sort of Girl Scout. "We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death. Not while we have strength left." He released my shoulder and went to retrieve a knife. "Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light." He looked at us with a bit of a smile. "Let's hunt some orc." Gimli looked at Legolas, then me and smiled for the first time in about three months.
"Yes!" he exclaimed from behind his beard. He ran off, following Aragorn. Legolas half-smiled and I grinned, shouldering my pack, dashing after my companions.
It was in this moment that I made a stunning realization.
It was completely random, as I wasn't even thinking about anything related to the topic. I suppose it was more of recognition of the feeling rather than a realization, but it was somewhat shocking all the same. I suppose I had known in the far recesses of my being, but I had failed to recognize or acknowledge it until that moment.
I knew who was in my dream, or at least who I wanted it to be. I finally understood what Galadriel meant. The questions she had posed were answered with one simple phrase that constantly ran through my mind.
You have a crush on Legolas.
At first I was a little surprised, as it seemed rather unlikely. We were two completely different people. He was always well-prepared, quiet, calm, courteous, and in control of himself…whereas I was sarcastic, loud, completely unpredictable, and generally clueless. It didn't seem to work. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense and the pieces of Galadriel's puzzle slowly began to fall into place.
It was a wonderful end to a perfectly awful day.
A/N: Dun da dun! There you have it. The conclusion of The Fellowship of the Ring and the answer to all (or some) of your questions about the romance (I hope it's not too clichéd or Mary Sue…). However, this is NOT the end!!!! I repeat, this is NOT the end. I will be continuing into Two Towers and Return of the King. I'll probably be using the book for most of the TT part—at least until the movie comes out. Using the script is soooo much easier. But if the dialogue changes from book to movie, that's why. Review!
* = Line from Ten Things I Hate About You—or at least I think. I was working on a project with some friends so I wasn't paying close attention…but it seemed so appropriate here…
NOT the end!