A/N: I am sooo sorry for the long delay. But like I said in my new story "Sail Away," life has just been one mess after another, and now we're making a huge multi-state move in just five weeks now. Believe it or not, I haven't actually written any more on this since I started posting it, which I really should. I see this story having only twelve or so chapters, so it's already half done! So, without further ado, here's the next chapter. I hope it was worth the wait. I put a twist on the Boromir-gone-evil-thing. Hope you like. (Yay! I finally found a scene divider that actually works! So now instead of "scene divider" it will be …………..)

Don't own it, don't wish I did, even though I borrowed a few (coughseveralcough) lines here and there…

Princes of the Earth

Chapter 6

Nen

The Fellowship departed Lothlórien with high spirits and renewed hope. Celeborn had gifted them with four boats to travel down the Anduin till they reached the Falls of Rauros, as Gandalf, Aragorn, and the Elf lord had decided. There Boromir would turn West to his own city, and Frodo and Sam would continue East to Mordor, with those who would accompany them. As yet, the majority of the Fellowship was undecided as to their course, for though none of them wished to abandon Frodo to the hopeless quest ahead, none of them wished to enter Mordor, either.

In one boat was Gandalf and Pippin; another held Boromir and Merry; the third Legolas and Gimli; and in the last were Frodo and Aragorn, along with Sam, who refused to leave his master's side even to board another boat.

So the Companions bid farewell to the fair safehaven of Lórien—most likely the last until they reached their journey's end—after a last meal with the Lady Galadriel and her husband.

The White Lady gifted to them each something suitable for the journey. To Sam, she gave Elven rope, silky to the touch but exceptionally strong; and a little box of grey dirt and a silver seed—for when he returned home, she said, he might have need of it. To Merry and Pippin she gave daggers, more than useful in the trials ahead. To Boromir she gave a belt of gold, fashioned in the shape of intertwining leaves; to Legolas a bow of the Galadhrim, longer and stronger than his from Mirkwood; to Aragorn a bejeweled and inscribed scabbard worthy of the newly reforged Andúril. Gimli asked only for a single golden hair from head, and she gifted him with three, which he kept near his heart for he had grown very fond of her.

None saw her parting with Gandalf, nor heard her words of wisdom she bequeathed to him.

So the Fellowship started their long journey down the River. They let the flow carry them along at an easy pace, rowing occasionally until they reached their destination at Amon Hen several days later. At first there were laughter and songs as they moved downstream, but after a time these faded, as with the scenery.

The landscape about them changed from slopes of green and tall trees to war-scarred brown lands with not a living green thing in sight, just in a matter of days.

Rock walls rose up to meet them on either side of the River, quickly growing to towering cliffs high above them.

All were silent as Aragorn unexpectedly laid a hand on Frodo's shoulder, directing the hobbit from his thoughts to what lay ahead. "Look, Frodo," he said, and the Ranger of the North was gone, momentarily replaced by the true King beneath. "The Argonath."

Two great statues adorned either side of the River, absolutely massive in their size and the power it must have taken to create them. In them were carved the likenesses of Isildur and Anárion, sons of the King Elendil, both with their left hand outstretched in warning.

As the four small boats passed under the shadow of the Pillars of the Kings, Legolas knew in his heart that something was about to happen that would change the course of their journey, perhaps even the future—but he knew not what. ………………

……………The Company set up camp under the protection of the trees on the Western bank of Nen Hithoel, waiting till the cover of dark to cross.

Gandalf and Aragorn were in deep discussion while the Hobbits tried to get what rest they could, finally free of the uncomfortable boats. Gimli was inspecting his smaller throwing axes; Boromir had disappeared into the forest to gather dry firewood; and Legolas stood at the edge of the trees, watching, listening, and feeling.

The Elf abruptly spun and crossed the short distance to where Aragorn and Gandalf sat talking. "Something is coming," Legolas stated. "I can feel it. A shadow and a threat have been growing on my mind, along with…something…something else."

"Orcs patrol the eastern shore," Aragorn reminded him unnecessarily. "We must wait until nightfall."

"Aragorn is right, but I too have felt it," Gandalf said. "It is not the eastern shore that shall soon be our greatest concern."

Merry opened one eye, aroused by the voices, and glanced around the camp, prepared to go back to sleep before he started fully awake. "Where's Frodo?"

Sam sprang up, hearing his fellow's inquiry, and quickly scanned the camp with his own eyes. Merry was right. Frodo was nowhere in sight.

Aragorn shouted a halt as the remaining three Hobbits immediately jumped up and ran into the forest calling for Frodo. The Ranger cursed when he was ignored and charged in after them, quickly followed by Legolas, Gimli, and Gandalf. ……………

……………Boromir broke off mid-sentence, looking up and laying a hand protectively on Frodo's shoulder. "Do you feel that?" he whispered.

"Feel wha—"

"Sh!" The Man stayed perfectly still for several more long moments before glancing down at Frodo. "Something approaches at a quick pace. This does not bode well. I sense evil afoot."

He turned the Hobbit to face him. "Many enemies are nearly upon us. You must lend me the Ring, just for a little while."

"What? No!" Frodo exclaimed, pulling out of the Man's grasp and stumbling back a few steps. He laid a hand on his chest, over the Ring which hung on a chain about his neck.

"Just so I may defeat these new foes!" Boromir insisted. "So I may defend you! It is hopeless otherwise."

"You are not yourself," Frodo said, turning to leave. If enemies really were coming, he should get back to the shore and warn the others.

"It is for your own good, yet you are too blind to see it! If you are not wise enough to lend it to me of your own volition, then I must take it by force!" he shouted, lunging at Frodo.

The Hobbit fell with a cry as the Man's larger mass collided with his, sending both crashing to the ground. "It is not yours save by unhappy chance!" Boromir shouted, pawing desperately at Frodo's shirt while the Hobbit tried to fight off his hands. "It could have been mine—it should be mine! Give it to me!"

With a final grunt, Frodo managed to slip the Ring onto his finger, disappearing from Boromir's sight. He used the Man's surprise to kick him off and scamper away.

It took Boromir a few moments to snap out of his enraged daze, thanks to Frodo's kick to his face, and remember where he was and what had happened.

"Oh no…what have I done? What have I done! Frodo!" he called, but to no avail. He gasped suddenly. "The enemy! I must…save Frodo! They will kill him and take the…the Ring…" Grabbing his horn from where it had fallen during the scuffle, he sprang to his feet and in the direction he though Frodo had gone……………

……………Frodo did not know how long he ran in the shadow world, but he continued until he almost ran right into a large stone statue, as he thought, and could no longer hear Boromir's voice behind him.

He could now plainly feel the great evil of the approaching enemy, and he clambered up the stone, pressing back into a small nook.

As if controlled by some other force, Frodo slowly stood and turned, only to be confronted by a vision of the Eye of Sauron, filling all his sight. He heard it speak to him, of death and doom, but over the dark, evil voice, he heard another—fairer, pleading and commanding.

"Take it off, fool! The Ring! The Ring! Take it off, quickly! Before it is too late!"

He hastily obeyed, clawing his finger in his haste to remove the evil thing. It slid off and he fell back with a cry, landing hard on the ground in the real world. Not a moment later, another voice disturbed the stillness, this one concerned as it spoke his name.

Frodo quickly scrambled up to see Aragorn standing before him, looking quite concerned. "It has taken Boromir!" the Hobbit blurted.

"Where is it?" the Ranger demanded, taking a step forward, but Frodo only stumbled backwards, clutching the Ring tightly. "I swore to protect you," Aragorn said in a softer tone. "I only wished to know if it was safe." This time the Hobbit let him approach.

"Would you destroy it?" he challenged, opening his palm to reveal the innocent-looking band of gold.

Aragorn stood before him, hand wavering uncertainly over Frodo's. The temptation was so strong, it would be so easy. All he had to do to reclaim what was rightfully his—what would give him the power to defeat Sauron, to restore Gondor to its former glory, to make him the most powerful and wise ruler in history—was to reach forth and take it. He could easily slay one simple Hobbit, just with one easy stroke of his sword…

His hand enclosed upon Frodo's as he dropped to his knees, closing the Hobbit's fingers around the Ring. "I would have gone with you to the end, into the very fires of Mordor."

The two simply looked into the other's eyes for a long moment, and no words were needed. With a barely perceptible nod, Frodo took a step back. "Look after the others, especially dear Sam. I am afraid he will not understand."

Aragorn nodded, and glancing down, quickly stood, unsheathing his sword. "Run, Frodo." When the Hobbit did not obey immediately, he shouted more forcefully, "Run!"

Frodo glanced down at his glowing sword in surprise, then back at Aragorn. There was something in the Man's eyes, a calm reassurance that all would be alright—that made Frodo love the Man all the more and want to do anything he commanded.

So he turned on his heel and fled, back into the woods, as Aragorn turned to face the army of Orcs and Uruk-hai awaiting him. And with a cry, both charged.

Neither Man, nor Hobbit, nor Orc knew that they had been watched the entire time, and were still. The tall figure stood unnoticed beneath the trees, cloaked and hooded all in grey. He smiled as the Hobbit fled, knowing he would be safely taken care of……………

…………Sam skidded to a halt from his run through the woods as the sound of metal clashing upon metal met his ears. "Battle!" he said to himself, "or I'm no Hobbit! Now think, Sam, think! Gamgee, you fool. The others will be drawn to the battle, but not Mister Frodo, no. He knows what's to be done, though he may pretend not to. He knows he has to get to Mordor!"

Sam turned abruptly around, facing the direction he had just come from. "The boats! They're his only way to get across! The shore! He'll be heading for the shore, meaning to leave—and without his Sam! You're not leaving without your Sam!" he cried, taking off again.

He had almost reached the tree line when he suddenly collided with an unseen object, sending both crashing to the ground with two cries of pain and surprise. Frodo suddenly appeared beneath him, having removed the Ring from his finger, which he had been wearing to escape through the woods while avoiding detection. "Sam! What are you—"

"Finding you!" Sam interrupted, helping his master to his feet. "You weren't meaning to leave without me, were you?"

Frodo quickly walked on, looking back over his shoulder at his faithful companion. "I'm sorry, Sam. I'm going to Mordor alone."

"Of course you are! And I'm coming with you!" Sam replied in a slightly hurt tone. By this time they had reached the shore.

Frodo looked to where the boats had been kept, and gasped in dismay. One was missing, no doubt having floated downstream and over the falls, and the other three were completely destroyed, hacked to pieces. It was clearly the handiwork of Orcs.

"No!" Frodo exclaimed, sinking to the ground in despair. "I came all this way—all this long journey—to be foiled here. Now what am I to do? How am I to cross? How am I to get to Mordor? How is the Ring to be destroyed now, Samwise?"

"Do not despair." Frodo and Sam jerked at the sudden strange voice. "All is not lost."

Their eyes came to rest upon a figure neither had noticed before, having been intent on their flight and the destroyed boats.

He sat on the sandy bank, back leaning against one of the several stone ruins along the shore and in the water, his long legs stretched out before him. As they watched, he gracefully stood and slowly walked towards them.

He was robed all in medium blue, and his pale golden hair and sharp silver eyes shone in the sunlight. He had very fair skin, pointed ears, and was quite tall, as in the fashion of the Firstborn. He reminded Frodo very much of the sun on a deep blue pool on a clear summer's day.

"I understand you have need to cross the water, Frodo Baggins," He spoke, and his voice was as smooth and sweet as a brook running over rocks.

"Y-yes, but our boats have been destroyed," Frodo replied. "How do you know my name?"

But instead of answering, the stranger just laughed. "There are more ways to cross water than by boat."

"My companion and I cannot swim," Frodo said. "Who are you?"

"I know this, although it may be in a Hobbit's best interest to learn." He gave a sweeping bow. "I am Nen, the keeper of this river. I have watched your Company since it departed Lórien, although I have been aware of you and your mission for a much longer time."

"A spy of the enemy to be sure, Mister Frodo!" Sam cried, fumbling with his little sword.

"No, Sam," Frodo said calmly, holding up a hand. He knew this Firstborn was not a servant of the Enemy, and indeed already had a suspicion of who he was. "Know you of Los and Mor?"

Nen laughed, his smiling silver eyes dancing. "So you have met my brothers," he said. "I thought you must have."

"Brothers!" Sam exclaimed. "How many of you are there?"

Nen laughed again. "Not many, brave Samwise. But come, time is running short if you wish to cross." He held a hand toward the water.

"But how—"

"Have faith, Chosen One," Nen said, walking towards the water. "There are higher Powers in this world than you know of."

Frodo did not know nor care to guess what he meant by Chosen One and higher Powers, but he nearly laughed as Nen stepped right into the water. Did the Elf mean to walk right across the riverbed? It was calm enough at the shore, but it quickly grew deeper and the flow faster further out.

His laughter died on his lips, however, as Nen did not step into the water, but rather on top of it!

Frodo blinked, as if to clear the trickery from his sight, but it remained. Perhaps the water was only an inch deep there…

Nen laughed at the Hobbits' identical expressions of surprise and disbelief. "Faith," he said again. "Come, follow me, for the time is short."

Frodo quickly climbed to his feet and walked to the water's edge with Sam as Nen continued to back away further into the water. Yet he stayed on top of it, as if he still stood on dry land.

Frodo took a hesitant step onto the water, then another and another when he did not sink. He could see the sandy ground now about a foot below where he was standing, yet still he remained atop the water. The Hobbits looked up Nen in amazement, but he only smiled in response and continued to walk.

"Mister Frodo, look!" Sam exclaimed needlessly.

The water beneath their feet was as smooth and cool as glass, yet as sturdy as solid rock. The water rushed by on either side of them, yet the narrow path they followed did not so much as ripple.

Frodo wondered greatly at the power of the Elf before him, who sang a song in the Grey Tongue of the sunlight on the water and green leaves as he walked ever before them. Surely if he possessed such powers, then so did his brothers Mor and Los. The hobbit was beginning to believe that maybe he should have simply trusted Los to bring them over the mountain safely in the first place and they could have avoided Moria altogether.

By this time they were safely across the wide lake and stood beside Nen. As soon as Sam had both feet upon the shore the last trace of their watery path disappeared, although it had been vanishing behind them as they walked, though they did not know it.

"There now, that was not so hard, was it?" Nen asked, smiling.

Frodo was still surprised, but managed to shake his head. He opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by Nen reaching behind a tree and pulling out two large packs. "These are yours, I believe," he said, handing each to its respective owner. "I saved them and brought them across before the Orcs destroyed the boats."

"Th-thank you," Frodo managed, as Sam quickly examined the packs. They seemed to be undamaged, still loaded with their supplies as they had left them.

"You must be on your way now," Nen told them, "for even the slightest delay may change the course of things."

They shouldered their packs after bowing low to him. "You have my eternal gratitude, Master Nen," Frodo said in sincere thanks. "I do not know what I should have done without you."

"You are more than welcome, Ringbearer," Nen replied, and Frodo was not at all surprised that he knew of it. "Good speed on your journey. Eärendil shall always shine upon your path." He bowed and slipped away into the trees, vanishing from their sight.

Hours later, when the Hobbits stopped their march to rest and eat, Sam called to Frodo in surprise as he opened his pack. There, nestled on top of the lembas, was a small white stone, the perfect shape and size to fit in the palm of his hand.

Frodo quickly opened his own pack to find an identical stone, only blue. They glimmered like water in the sunlight, but shone like the sun when submerged in water. The two Hobbits treasured these parting gifts from Nen for the rest of their days.

End of chapter. Aww what a fluffy ending. Oh yeah, just thought I would mention that when I said 'just made Frodo love the Man all the more' it was definitely not in the romantic sense. Okie?

Hmm next chapter finally gets to the good stuff! Yay!