A/N: Wow, it's October, isn't it? Heh . . . heh. Ahem. So, we said we'd update sooner than the last time, which . . . didn't work out, as you all can tell. Jen's back at U of I for the fall, and I've moved in with my grandparents, gotten a job, and am going to school at a community college. Between working thirty hours a week amd school, it doesn't leave room form uch, which kinda sucks, so ATF got kind of pushed back on the list of priorities. But I finally sat down with this thing and we got it finished, so here it is! Thank you for waiting so patiently, and we really appreciate the reviews – they were pleasant surprises, so thank you all very much! Keep letting us know what you think, if you like what's going on, things like that. We really love hearing from you. So read on, enjoy, and review!

Why can't you just let me do the things I wanna do?

I don't understand, why would you wanna bring me down?

I'm tired of rumors starting

I'm sick of being followed, I'm tired of people lying

Saying what they want about me

Why can't they back up off me? Why can't they let me live?

I'm gonna do it my way

Take this for just what it is . . .

'Rumors' by Lindsay Lohan

Chapter 28

Aragorn slept fitfully throughout the rest of the night. Every time he began to doze, a stray thought would pop into his mind and keep him awake for another half hour. He could not get his mind off of the ugly scene and argument that occurred hours earlier. He felt ashamed for partaking in such a useless argument with Boromir, but he knew it was bound to happen soon. The other Man had been discontent since before Lothlorien, and it was only a matter of time before he confronted Aragorn with his thoughts.

He never dreamed it would be like this, however. When had the argument turned to Nevada? How had it evolved from Minas Tirith and Merry to Nev? Guilt washed him again as he recalled their words and the fact that Nevada had probably heard most of it. They had tried to be discreet, but he had momentarily forgotten the keen ears of the Faeries and Elves. Perhaps he had assumed that she would sleep through it because of her exhaustion over fighting the rapids earlier.

They had humiliated her. She didn't have to say it when she stormed out to them - it was in her face, in her eyes. He had never seen her look like that. He had seen her angry, sad, happy - but never hurt. Disappointed. He closed his eyes against the wealth of guilt that plagued him. To think that he would be the one to make her look that way was too much to bear.

She should not have been discussed like that in the first place. He knew that if the tables had been turned, he would have been insulted, almost degraded. We spoke of her without care or thought of her feelings, he thought, feeling ashamed all over again. One warrior did not speak about another in the manner they did with her, and the reason they did was simple – she was a woman. It made him sad to realize that the argument would have never happened if Nevada had been a male, but the fact was that they both had grown to care for her.

But how much? Aragorn frowned to himself, eyes staring ahead into the dark forest. Boromir had overstepped his boundaries a few times with Nevada, something she neither asked for nor deserved, and he knew the Man from Gondor had been quite taken with her. But was he taken, as well? Did Boromir's accusations ring true?

It almost made him uneasy to think about. He refused to think he would compromise comradeship with Nevada over dreamed up feelings and cares brought on by respect and friendship. But hadn't he done that already? By participating in this petty argument, didn't he already put their friendship in jeopardy?

He couldn't fathom how that would change the atmosphere of the journey now, and he dreaded to find out. It made him sick to his stomach to think that there would be tension between them for that long, although he wouldn't blame her for not forgiving him. The damage was done, however, and they could not take back the things they said.

Aragorn sighed and turned on his side, his eyes immediately seeking out the dark, curled up form wrapped in a cloak a few yards away. He could only hope she would be willing to forgive him.

Boromir sat with his back against one of the Lorien canoes, the pale wood gleaming silver in the moonlight. He could sleep no better than the other few people who bore witness and participated in the argument.

He couldn't remember the last time someone had yelled at him the way Nevada did. It was embarrassing, and the dressing down had made him feel two feet tall. He couldn't fault her for being angry, though. They had shamefully argued about her, and he had to admit she had a point during most of it.

He was still angry with Aragorn, however. They left a lot of things unsaid, and he wished they were given the time to say them. It wouldn't do to continue that argument now, not without invoking the temper of the Faerie again. For a moment he felt anger towards her and the Elf – damn their hearing! If they had only been sleeping, which is too much to ask, they could have finished their argument. Boromir still had much to say to Aragorn.

He was tired of being treated as if he were under the man. He certainly did not appreciate being lectured over what happened to Merry – he knew what he had done wrong, and he recognized that he was at fault, but he did not need it pointed out by a ranger no less! As if the man had never made a mistake himself. He was a captain of Gondor, and as such he resented being treated so from a ranger from the north. He respected the rangers' fighting and survival skills, but he did not need one of them telling him what to do, especially one that so cowardly ran away from his responsibilities.

The thought made his upper lip curl up. He had been raised with the belief that one owned up to ones' responsibility and accepted ones' duty. It was unheard of to give up responsibility such as ascending the throne of a kingdom to run to the north and become a ranger instead. He lost respect for Aragorn because of that alone, and when the man acted as if his word is most important in the Fellowship, it bothered him greatly. What right did he have to assume that he could take up lead?

Boromir had been leading for years within the Gondor ranks – he should have been more qualified to make decisions within the Fellowship, not a ranger of the north who thought he had more experience than Boromir did. It made him so angry to think of that blasted man . . .

His hands were aching. The man looked down to find them clenched into tight fists, white with the pressure against the dark of the ground. Slowly, he spread them out, letting the digits rest against the cold dirt. He stared at his red palms, imprinted from the pressure of his fingers, and then looked up into the night sky.

Perhaps it was better that Aragorn did not want the throne. His father would certainly not abide by the ranger coming in and deciding to claim what was his – Denethor would never relinquish the position he held so dear to a mere ranger. He knew that once his father stepped down or died, he would become the next Steward of Gondor. He also knew that he would not give up the position for Aragorn, either. So maybe it was better that he remained a ranger and continued on that path for fear of his responsibilities.

His father had maintained Gondor for many years throughout the war, and Boromir had watched him struggle to keep everything together when it all seemed overwhelming. He knew being Steward was a difficult job, especially with so much trouble happening in Middle Earth, and he wished to ease the problems that weighed down his father and his country.

The man's eyes traveled from the night sky towards camp a few yards away, knowing without knowing how he knew to spot the right small dark form surrounding the dead fire pit. He knew the one closest to it was Frodo, as he knew the one next to it was Sam. Merry was the one wrapped up in the most blankets, and Pippin lay next to him, but he only looked at Frodo.

It was around his chest. The answer, he still believed, to all the problems his homeland was having. That Middle Earth was having. The Ring was only as evil as its holder. It did evil things because its original owner was evil. In the hands of someone good, he could only imagine what it could do! If it could give them the power to vanquish their enemies, why not use it?

Oh, the power it could give Gondor. His people would have to suffer no more. They could defeat their enemies and not have to lose another soldier, not have to leave another family grieving. Why destroy something that could do that? If they would only see the good in such a thing, they could take it to Gondor and launch an offense from there. Surely such a powerful thing would lead them straight to victory, and vanquish Sauron forever. If the Ring was as powerful as they all said, it could surely do that.

They would never agree to it, Boromir thought suddenly with a frown. Aragorn would never allow it. Anger boiled anew, and hands curled up into fists again. And what Aragorn said goes, wasn't that how it worked? Aragorn would just have to see – see the good the Ring could bring them in the hands of the right person. But there was a large chance he would never see it in that light, and that irritated Boromir greatly. Why was the man so blind?

Did it matter that he agrees? He wondered. If he had the Ring in his possession, did it matter whether Aragorn agreed or not?

But he would surely try to take it, and that would not do. Chances are, everyone present except maybe the hobbits would rebel. If he could just get them to Gondor, it would be ten times easier. He was in his element there. His soldiers would be able to aid him in his cause. That felt like the only solution. If it came down to it, he would have to harm Aragorn to retrieve the Ring, and while that didn't sound terrible awful, it was something he did not think would go well.

Boromir spent most of the rest of the night pondering his current position and the best way to go about getting what he wanted until his muscles grew stiff and his eyelids too heavy to stay awake.

Nevada could feel herself waking up, but she desperately didn't want to. She squeezed her eyes shut against the morning light and pretended for as long as she could to be sleeping.

It grew difficult however, when everyone else started to awaken. She knew Legolas was awake, and heard him leave camp, presumably to get firewood. Aragorn was awake, as well, and for that reason alone she stayed on the ground. She'd rather shoot herself in the foot than get up when it was just the two of them awake. She had nothing to say to the bastard at the moment.

Thinking on last night made her thoughts fly into a rage once again. The filthy bastards had argued about her. Not just about her, but also about whether she romantically cared about either of them. The gall of their words made her want to gag. Who in the Valar's name made them so special? They're Men, for crying out loud, she thought seethingly. Hairy, filthy, dirty Humans. Their arrogant remarks were astounding, and she wanted to beat their heads together and scream at them so much it made her throat ache thinking about it.

Another emotion was sneaking in with the anger, and no matter how hard she pushed it back, it came forward. Hurt. Especially, if not all, towards Aragorn. You think you know a person, she thought, suddenly feeling inexplicably sad. She really respected the Man – not just for his abilities, but for the type of person he was. He was someone she could safely admire because he deserved it. Now, he'd done the most stupid thing she'd seen anyone do in a long time, and she couldn't help but think he was not the person she thought she knew. And that knowledge bothered her a great deal. She had come to like the person he was before last night.

Well, he blew it, she thought stubbornly. Thoroughly blew it. She already didn't like Boromir, so there was no real loss there. But she liked Aragorn, and it hurt to have heard him argue like that. She wasn't sure if there would be enough time for her to get over it, or forgive him if she could. He'd have to do a lot of groveling for that, and she couldn't see Aragorn groveling. As long as she was able to ignore both of them and pretend she didn't just get humiliated the night before, she would be able to function normally for the remainder of the trip.

As she thought of the Fellowship, stirs to her left told her the Hobbits were starting to awaken. She heard one of them yawn; it sounded like Pippin, and another hit someone else, who gave out a yelp.

"Sam, that was my side!" she heard Merry groan.

"Sorry," the other said sleepily. There was a pause, then a gasp. "Merry! You're awake!"

His statement drew the attention of all the Hobbits, who gave out cries of joy. Nevada smiled to herself. That, at least, was something to be happy about.

She decided she could pretend to sleep no longer, and opened her eyes with a resigned sigh. Thank the Valar above she shared a canoe with Legolas and Gimli, and that was something she never thought she'd say.

"How are you feeling, Merry?"

Nevada froze in the middle of getting up from her bedroll when Aragorn knelt down three feet away to speak to Merry. He glanced at her, and they stared at each other for a long moment. Nevada's back was stiff and her gaze unreadable. In his eyes, she saw a hint of regret, apology – and then it was gone. Drawing herself up, Nevada broke eye contact and stood up as calmly as she could before walking off.

Aragorn's jaw tightened and he briefly closed his eyes before returning his gaze to a confused Merry. "How are you, Merry?" he asked in a quieter voice.

"I feel better," Merry replied slowly. He didn't understand what just went on, and assumed it had happened while he'd been out. A lot must have gone on. "Rested."

Aragorn gave a genuine smile, although it was a tired one. "I'm glad to hear that, Merry. We're very relieved you're all right."

"We were so worried!" Pippin exclaimed, eyes huge. "You fell out, and we thought you were a goner! Miss Nevada and Legolas saved you!"

Merry's own eyes went wide as Sam and Frodo, faces glowing with smiled, nodded affirmation. "Did they really?"

"Miss Nevada dived in first," Sam explained. "And Legolas followed after. It took them a right long time, but they finally found you and brought you back. You ought to be more careful, Brandybuck!" Sam scolded with a finger. "Hang on to the boat next time."

"I tried, but the rock was huge!" Merry said in defense. "And if I hadn't kept a hand on the packs, they would've flown out."

"Well, it all doesn't matter now, as long as you're all right," Frodo said. He smiled warmly at Merry, who smiled back. It was wonderful to be awake again.

"Master Brandybuck!" A gruff, loud accented voice called out from the camp. Gimli trotted over, looking pleased as can be, and vigorously shook the Hobbit's hand."'Tis wonderful to see you all right! Lad, you gave us quite a scare!"

Merry laughed self-consciously and ran a hand over his curly hair. "I certainly didn't mean to. Who wants to fall into a river?"

Gimli laughed heartily. "Right you are, my lad. But you must be starvin' by now, why don't the lot of you get up and we'll eat?"

Sam shot up quickly. "I'll cook! I still have some herbs left and potatoes – if Legolas or someone could catch some rabbit or squirrel, we could have a nice stew for breakfast and save some of it for lunch."

"That sounds like a plan, Sam," Aragorn remarked, and the Hobbit smiled. Legolas walked into camp at the moment and spotted Merry sitting on the ground. He smiled at him, clearly relieved, and Merry smiled back.

"Thank you for saving me!" Merry called, and Legolas nodded and winked, making Merry grin.

"Legolas, would you mind hunting for breakfast while I start the fire?" Aragorn asked, briefly forgetting the Elf had been privy to last night's conversation, as well.

Legolas stiffened slightly, and everyone could not help but notice the brief tension there. The Elf looked at Aragorn and nodded slowly before grabbing his bow, quiver, and leaving. He walked past Nevada, who watched him pass curiously. She strode past Aragorn with barely a glance, and settled for sitting down and rolling up her bedroll.

Sam hadn't noticed, being busy with breakfast preparations, but the other Hobbits and Gimli had. Merry frowned at Nevada's defensive position and the pensive look on Aragorn's face.

"Did something happen while I was out?" Merry asked Frodo quietly.

Frodo shook his head, just as bewildered at the odd behavior as his cousin. "Not that I'm aware of. They were fine when we went to sleep."

"Perhaps something happened before we woke up this morning," Pippin whispered. "By the way, where's Boromir?"

"I think I saw him by the canoes,"Frodo said. He paused, and then added, "I don't like the argument they had last night."

Pippin readily agreed. "Perhaps why they're upset."

Frodo shook his head. "That wouldn't explain why Nevada and Legolas are upset. They were on Aragorn's side."

Merry followed the conversation, thoroughly confused. "What argument?"

Frodo and Pippin explained it as best they could, but they quieted down when Boromir joined the group once again.

One could cut the tension with a knife. Whatever had gone on, they did not hide it very well. Nevada was pointedly ignoring both Men, and the Men were ignoring each other. Gimli frowned at the three of them, and watched them participate in chores in the complete silence that overcame the camp.

He watched until he could take it no longer. "What is going on here?" Gimli asked, startling a few of people present. "Why is everyone so bloody quiet?"

"There's nothing to talk about," Nevada said after a moment of silence as they stared at him. That apparently was good enough, and they continued what they were doing.

It was not good enough for Gimli.

"What's happened that's gotten you so quiet?" Gimli asked. "What did we miss?" The hobbits nodded their support.

"You missed nothing, Gimli," Aragorn said quietly. "We have simply had a long night and would like to get started back on the river so we can be off it as soon as possible."

"Are we almost done with the river?" Merry asked hopefully.

Aragorn gave him a smile. "We are almost done, yes. I'd say by early evening tomorrow." The Hobbits gave a happy whoop at the prospect.

Gimli wasn't satisfied with Aragorn's half answer, and that left him frustrated. Just as he was pondering to bug Aragorn again, the Elf came walking into camp with five rabbits strung on a line.

Sam smiled with pleasure as Legolas brought them to him and sat down with him."Oh, I can skin them, Mr., um . . . Legolas."

The Elf smiled at the flustered Hobbit. "It's all right, Sam, I would like to help. Sit down, it will get down quicker if we're both working." Pleased, but a little embarrassed, Sam sat down with the ethereal being to skin the rabbits for the stew.

The Elf and Faerie had exchanged a look before he sat down, and Gimli did not miss it. He was determined to find out what went on, and figured he would pry it out of one of them while they were on the River. They couldn't exactly avoid him then.

There was a break in the tension when Merry thanked Nevada for saving him, and she teased him about Hobbits not being able how to swim. He immediately jumped to his family's defense and they launched into an argument that boiled down to just because ones family learned how to swim in rivers, does not mean they qualify to handle rapids. It succeeded in lifting the mood slightly, as well as the added aroma of a good meal cooking in the pot over the fire.

They ate unhurriedly, since most of the packing had been finished before the cooking started, and when the meal was done they made their way towards the canoes.

Aragorn found himself walking behind Nevada, and he stared hard at the back of her head as he thought of saying something or not. He wasn't sure if that would make it worse, but he had to know where she stood right now. Whether they would be able to get along later.

He hurried his pace to get side by side with her, and swallowed before saying quietly, "Nevada, I –"

"I don't want to hear it, "she said just as quietly. "As far as everyone is concerned, this never happened. It's not open for discussion right now."

He blinked, and then became a little angry. As far as he was concerned, it had happened, and it needed to be dealt with. Things like that did not get left in the air. "Why?"

She glared at him out of the corner of her eye. "Because I don't want to discuss it." She walked off toward her canoe before he could retort, and left him feeling frustrated and sad.

Nevada wouldn't even open up to tell him she was angry. Oh, she didn't have to say it – he could see it. But she had completely shut him out and turned cool, reserved, and closed. That bothered him more than her anger would, and it left him worrying about their relationship in the future.

He thought a lot about it when they were in the canoe. His mind was half on the river and the Hobbits in front of him, and half on the argument. And when he wasn't thinking about that, he was thinking about the route ahead of him and what they had to accomplish in the next few weeks. He could feel time slipping away from them, and they had so much to do before they ran out of it. His gaze dropped down to Frodo as he thought of it. They could never lose sight of what was really important. In realizing that, he also came to the conclusion that Nevada understood it, too.

For that reason, she will make sure we're able to coexist together, he thought, relieved even though it didn't really solve the problem. She knew what was really important, and in the grand scheme of things, their argument was not. For duty, she would put their argument aside until it could be dealt with. Now was not the time. Perhaps, in a way, she meant that when she told him it 'never happened.'

Nevada could see the tension drain away from the Elf's back and knew it was draining from her, as well. This part of the river was quite calming, especially after what they had seen the day before. It was easy to forget ones problems out here, but it was also easy to dwell on them. She resolved to push them out of her head, for she knew she couldn't talk about them with Legolas, anyway. Not with the Dwarf in the boat. She would die before she let him know what was said last night.

"So what were you all pouting about this morning?"

Nevada and Legolas simultaneously closed their eyes and sighed. "It is none of your concern, Gimli," Legolas said calmly.

"How is it not my bloody concern?" Gimli retorted, getting angry at their unwillingness to talk. "Something's obviously happened, and it's caused a rift between the two of you and the two of them. "Their silence told him they didn't expect him to be so observant, which gave him self-satisfaction. "It's not so easy to hide. Even the hobbits noticed it. We have a right to know."

"You know, Gimli, I don't have to tell you a damn thing," Nevada shot back, turning around to glare at him. "I don't owe you shit, let alone an explanation. Suffice it to say that we're not entirely happy with each other right now. I promise you it has nothing to do with the Fellowship itself, or with Frodo, or with you. Now I suggest that you be quiet or this canoe trip will be a living hell for all of us."

"Do not presume to tell me-"Gimli snarled, but Legolas cut him off before he could continue.

"Gimli, Nevada," he said sternly. "This is not the time to argue. We need to calm down the arguments for Frodo's sake. We are getting close to the end of the trip on the river, and we cannot be quarreling like this. It will distress him. For right now, we need to put our own problems aside and focus on the journey."

The last part seemed aimed at Nevada, and although she resented it, she knew it was true. She recognized the need for them to get along, for wasn't that why she wasn't willing to blow the argument out in the open? She didn't want Frodo and the Hobbits to know they were arguing. It would hurt them, and they'd already lost enough.

Gimli saw the reason in Legolas's statement, as well, and quieted down. The rest of the trip was eventful for the rest of the day, as each person dwelled in his or her own thoughts.

Boromir had apologized to Merry for the accident the day before, to which the Hobbit just brushed off. "Accidents happen, there wasn't anything you can do." Seeing the Hobbit's cheery face made the Man feel a little better about it, since he was obviously all right. Pippin seemed to be back to his old self, and soon the two were laughing and chatting away. Boromir contented himself to listen and try to forget the two people in the other canoes. He couldn't perceive how to fix the problem if none of them were personally speaking to each other, other than orders and small talk. That would get them nowhere. But let them have it their way, he thought as he paddled. Nevada would surely yell at him if he tried to approach her, and he wasn't willing to talk to Aragorn just yet. He just wanted to get off of this river first.

They spent the entire day on the river. No one wanted to break until nightfall, for they wanted to travel as far as they could today so they could relax a bit the next. When night came, they camped once again, and everything was almost back to a sense of normalcy.

Almost. Boromir and Aragorn were able to work functionally together, but words were hardly spoken between them. Nev studiously ignored them both, and was off to the side whetting her dagger against a flat rock. She watched as Legolas watched over and knelt down to join her.

They were silent for a long moment. The Hobbits were asleep, and the only sounds were the faint crackling of the fire and the sound of knife sliding against stone.

Legolas did not mince his words when he spoke. "You have a right to be angry, but I believe our anger with Aragorn was misplaced."

Nevada stiffened and looked at him, although he kept his eyes on his dagger as he sharpened it. "What makes you say that?"

"I have gone over their argument in my head, and realized that most of what Aragorn said was in defense for himself against Boromir's comments. He was trapped by them. I do not believe Aragorn would have said anything to willingly hurt you, regardless of your hearing or not. He has too much integrity for that."

"And Boromir doesn't have any?"

This time Legolas looked up, his gray-blue eyes looking into her skeptical purple ones. "Boromir is not as strong as he once was. The Ring is having a very negative effect on him, and I know you are aware of it."

Nev looked away, but not before Legolas saw the brief flash of anger and hurt. "I have nothing to do with the Ring."

Legolas paused, and then put his knife aside. It was easy to see what she meant. He reached over and put a hand on her shoulder to get her attention. "You cannot change how some people feel," he said softly. "Boromir expressed himself in a way that hurt you and was certainly not necessary, and for that I am sorry. He barely gave Aragorn a chance to defend his own views, and I do not believe we can fully hold him against that. I am just as disappointed as you, but it is something we need to get over. There is a greater purpose that you came here to fulfill. Others opinions do not matter just as long as you know why you are here."

Nevada stared at him for a long while, letting what he said sink in. He made a good deal of sense to her, and she was thankful for his support – it didn't make her feel so alone. She gave a ghost of a smile, to which Legolas returned. He dropped his hand and both began to whet their knives as if nothing had happened, but the air was certainly more clear.

The next late afternoon, Aragorn began to recognize again the territory they were in. He was familiar with the land they were passing through, and he realized with growing pleasure that they were near a well-known monument. He soon spotted it in the distance, and felt his smile grow. It brought back memories of times past, when he was in the service of Gondor. It felt like ages ago, the things he had done and seen. It felt like another lifetime.

They were nearing territory he was sure he would not step foot in again.

"What's that up ahead?" Sam asked. Curious, Frodo looked over and his eyebrows rose. They watched with growing awe as the two large statues grew taller and taller as they got nearer. They looked absolutely magnificent. The robes the two Men wore looked as if they should be fluttering in the breeze, and they held out their hands as if to ward off all offending evils from entering. Statues they were, but there was pride in their stance, and nobility was apparent.

Boromir saw the sight and couldn't help but grin wide. He was nearing home. Merry and Pippin gave gasps of delight and elatedly talked about and pointed to the statues, but Boromir heard none of it. His mind was at Minas Tirith, and how this same setting sun would gleam against the white of the city of his forefathers.

Legolas, Gimli and Nevada stared at the wonder mutely, before Nevada whistled. "I have to hand it to the Humans," she said. "They really know how to impress."

"Those statues have been there for millennia," Legolas remarked, almost to himself.

"I remember when they looked newer. Less careworn." Indeed, they did look their age, as if they had seen centuries and centuries of wear, but still stood proud. Then Nevada smirked."Gimli, do you remember?"

The Dwarf grumbled under his breath in his native language, and the two Immortals grinned to themselves.

Frodo watched the light in Aragorn's eyes return, and he was extremely grateful for that. The Man seemed to be carrying himself better now, and he looked . . . almost regal, sitting there staring up at the statues with a serene look on his face.

"Frodo," he said. "The Argonath. Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old . . . my kind," he murmured.

Frodo had been quiet since Aragorn explained whom the statues were of. That the statue on his left was the one of Isildur. He wasn't sure how he felt about that. The man responsible for the heavy gold thing he carried around his neck. A burden he never dreamed of having. The only reason all of these problems were happening to them and most of the problems in Middle Earth right now was because the statue of the man on his left could not give it up. It disturbed him.

Frodo didn't look back up at the statue until they passed it.

Once they cleared the statues, a thunder in the distance that was getting steadily louder made it known. At first, Frodo had no idea what it could be; there hardly any clouds in the sky. Then he looked on up ahead and saw the great white mist far ahead, and he realized they were heading for a waterfall. He looked over to Aragorn, and was relieved to see him maneuvering their canoe towards the right. The other canoes followed suit, and soon they had beached their canoes for good.

Frodo climbed out of the boat, feeling quite happy that they were no longer on the river, and everyone was doing just the same. As he stepped on the shore and looked at his surroundings, however, he was overcome with a sense of foreboding. Frowning, Frodo dwelled on that thought for a bit, trying to figure out where it was coming from.

He looked over, and that second caught Boromir's eye. The Man looked trouble, and Frodo suddenly had to look away. A growing sense of discomfort had been filling him for days concerning the Man of Gondor, and he worried for what that could mean.

Aragorn breathed deep as he stepped out of the canoe and began to pull it the rest of the way on shore, Legolas and Boromir doing the same. "Shall we start a fire, then?"

"I'll get right on it, Strider," Sam offered, and recruited Frodo to come with him to fetch firewood. The little gardener noticed the look on his friend's face, and it worried him. When they were a safe distance away from everyone else, he asked, "Mister Frodo? What's bothering you?"

The blue-eyed Hobbit spared his friend a glance as they knelt down to pick up fallen tree branches. "I'm not sure, Sam. I think I'm just feeling uneasy the further south we get."

Sam's mood darkened. "Can't say that I blame you. I guess the easy part's over."

They spent another ten minutes or so gathering enough wood, and then carried it back to the temporary campsite. The element of tension still lingered in the air, and when Boromir's eyes met Frodo's once again, he turned his back on him, discomfort filling him once again. Why was he feeling this way?

Legolas took the firewood from them and built a fire, and before long it was burning merrily in the shade of the sun. They enjoyed an early dinner and contented themselves to lounge on logs and the ground. Legolas took a place by an oak tree and glanced out at the water.

Frodo noticed he had been very quiet since they beached their canoes. Perhaps he was as troubled as himself. Nevada didn't look too happy, either. Aragorn was wandering around, putting things away and taking them out of the canoes, and Merry and Pippin were lingering over their food. But he kept going back to Legolas. He was constantly scanning the area around them with an almost . . . worried expression. It was hard to tell, but it was there, in his eyes. Wariness. Seeing the Elf wary set Frodo on edge.

There was so much tension within their camp, the Hobbit found it nearly unbearable. He wanted to go into the woods to clear his thoughts and get away from it. Stealing a glance into the forest, he thought he saw a clearing a bit further back, and decided that would be a good place to think for a while. Silently, he stole off from his log and towards his destination, thinking that no one could have seen him.

Nevada wrapped her arms around her knees as she stared out onto the rushing waters. Something was very off. She could feel it. Today was not going to be as tranquil a day as they were expecting. She knew Legolas could sense it, for they exchanged glances and confirmed that something wasn't right about their location. She wasn't as fine tuned to it as the Elf was, for he seemed to be listening to the very trees for his information, but she certainly felt a tingling up her spine that set off the fine hairs on the back of her neck. She was tempted to say something to Aragorn, but she was hoping Legolas would beat her to it. She wasn't sure if he would take her seriously or not.

Aragorn strode up, carrying the lack pack from his canoe, and informed everyone, "We cross the lake at nightfall. Hide the boats, and continue on foot." He paused, took in a breath, and added, "We approach Mordor from the north."

Gimli raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yes?" Aragorn stopped what he was doing and turned to look at the Dwarf. "Just a simple matter of finding our way across Emyn Muil, an impassible labyrinth of razor sharp rocks!" Pippin blinked and stared at Gimli incredulously. "And then it gets even better! Festering, stinking marshlands as far as the eye can see!" Pippin looked worriedly at Aragorn.

"That is our road," Aragorn said calmly. "I suggest should take some rest, and recover your strength, Master Dwarf."

Gimli sputtered as Nevada laughed helplessly. "Recover my . . .!"

Legolas was oblivious to the joke. His worry was increasing. The trees had been whuispering a warning for some time, and all of his instincts told him they should not be here. Not at this time. They needed to leave before whatever threat he was sensing arrived.

When Aragorn passed him, Legolas stepped forward. Aragorn looked at him warily, and the Elf shook his head as if to dispel any previous bad feeling for the task at hand. "We should leave now," he said softly, seriously.

Aragorn did not hesitate. "No."

Legolas blinked. Did the Man have no sense of the danger they could be facing?

"Orcs patrol the eastern shore," Aragorn said in his defense. "We must wait for the cover of darkness."

Legolas shook his head slightly, knowing full well the problem did not lie over there. He turned to look into the forest once again, hearing the impending whispers on the wind that told him all was not well. "It is not the eastern shore that worries me," he murmured. "A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near." He looked at Aragorn and emphasized, "I can feel it."

Aragorn looked Legolas in the eyes, seeing the seriousness in his gaze. They both turned to scan the forest, and Aragorn could not deny that the forest was unnaturally quiet for early evening. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Nev walk up and frowned when he saw the same worried look on her face.

"Do you sense something, as well?" he asked quietly.

Nevada nodded, worrying her bottom lip as she glanced at Legolas and then towards the trees. Aragorn grew concerned as he noted that neither of them seemed concerned at all about the eastern shore, where they knew Orcs lurked; they were intent on watching the trees behind them.

"It kills me that I do not know what it is, but I know it's there," Nevada commented, her voice tight with apprehension. "Everything seems to be holding its breath."

"The calm before the storm," Legolas murmured, almost to himself. Aragorn looked from one to another, knowing he could stay ignorant no longer. If both of them were so clearly agitated, he knew something had to be amiss. He started to think of how he could get them out of there prematurely. He knew he could not take them to the eastern shore, but he also knew the danger lurked in the forest behind them. It was a lose-lose situation.

"I believe right now we must all stay together," Aragorn murmured to the two of them. "No one is to stray."

Gimli was still stinging over Aragorn's offhanded comment earlier. "Recover strength," he grumbled to himself. He gestured towards Pippin, saying, "Pay no heed to that, young Hobbit." Merry watched him pouting with amusement, and then stood up to stretch. As he looked around, he noticed someone missing.

Frowning, Merry looked all around him and then over to where Sam was. "Where's Frodo?"

Aragorn, Legolas and Nevada turned to stare at Merry. Everyone stood up in alarm when they discovered he wasn't in camp, and Aragorn could not help but notice that one other person was missing. And his heart froze in his chest.

Boromir was gone.

It was his chance. His chance, and he was not going to miss it. Frodo was alone, and easily persuaded. He could talk to him, talk him into giving it to him. They were so close to Gondor – so close, all he needed to do was get it.

Boromir concluded that he didn't even need to tell the others. He could just head home when he had it, and come for them later. He had to get it to his father, show him the power they had and they could use it! All of their troubles would be gone!

It didn't take him long to find Frodo. The young Hobbit was climbing old, moss covered stone steps to what was once a dais. Boromir's heart began to pound as he drew closer, following the Hobbit until he was close enough to speak. He could not mess this up – he could not. His people depended on him to help them, and he now realized this was the only way to do it.

Boromir had been gathering wood he walked, to make it look like he was doing something, and when he felt he had enough to not look suspicious, he finally approached.

"None of us should wander alone," he said, and Frodo abruptly stopped walking and look up at him, his expression guarded. That could not be good, but Boromir pressed on. "You least of all. So much depends on you." Still, the young Hobbit said nothing, only watched him with large, wary blue eyes.

Alarm was filling up the Hobbit's mind as he watched Boromir's casual stance that was not casual at all. There was something off about the Man right now. He seemed . . . different. More high strung, and yet less than usual. What did he want?

You know what he wants, something inside him whispered. And it's around your neck. Frodo looked away from Boromir, fear suddenly filling him. He wouldn't, would he?

Frodo recalled a conversation he had with Gandalf before they reached the gates of Moria as he watched the odd look in Boromir's eyes, and the wizard's words: 'Evil will be drawn to you from outside the Fellowship. And, I fear, from within.'

"Frodo?"

He looked up and at Boromir again. I mustn't give in to him, Frodo thought fiercely. He knows not what he is doing.

"I know why you seek solitude," the Man continued. Oh, do you, Frodo thought suspiciously. "You suffer. I see it, day by day." If only you knew, Frodo thought sadly. But you have no idea. "Be sure that you do not suffer needlessly. There are other ways, Frodo, other paths we might take."

The Hobbit's eyes narrowed, and he recalled the argument the night before when Merry was unconscious. "I know what you would say . . . and it would seem like wisdom but for the warning in my heart."

"Warning?" Boromir repeated, and drew closer. Frodo drew backwards, trying to keep some distance between himself and the much larger Human. "Against what?" The Man shook his head and followed Frodo as he backed into the clearing. "They are all afraid, Frodo, but to let that fear drive us to destroy what hope we have . . . Don't you see? It's madness!"

"There is no other way!" Frodo said firmly.

Boromir's jaw tightened as anger boiled through him. Damn the Hobbit for his unwillingness to see! "I ask only for the strength to defend my people!" he said intensely, and threw the wood down in anger. Frodo took another step back and watched the Man for any signs that he should run. He suddenly wanted Aragorn, or Legolas, or Sam with him. He didn't want to be alone when Boromir was obviously losing his mind.

The Man swallowed and held out his hand pleading. "If you would but lend me the Ring –"

"No," Frodo immediately denied, and then took a few more steps back for good measure.

Boromir's breathing grew quicker. "Why do you recoil? I am no thief."

"You are not yourself," Frodo said adamantly.

The Man's eyes narrowed, and blind anger and desperation ran through him against the Hobbit. This smug Hobbit who thought he had authority over one such as himself because he held the Ring in his position. "What chance do you think you have?" he hissed. "They will find you. They will take the Ring! And you will beg for death before the end!"

Frodo shook his head against the words and turned to walk away. He needed to leave from Boromir, and find Aragorn before something happened. He liked Boromir, and he worried for him, but he was also becoming afraid of him.

He heard footsteps behind him, and panic filled his mind. "Fool!" Boromir raged behind him, and Frodo looked back in horror as the Man started to run after him. "It is not yours save by happenstance!" Frodo started to run, his heart pounding in his chest as he fled in an effort to get as far away from the half crazed Man as possible. Boromir's voice shouted gratingly behind him and he wanted to cover his ears against it.

"It could have been mine!" Frodo wasn't fast enough. With a yell, he felt Boromir grab a handful of his cloak and drag him down. "It should have been mine!" Frodo's mind went wild with panic as Boromir's hand pulled and grabbed for the Ring. "Give it to me!"

"NO!" Frodo screamed.

"Give it!"

"No!" Whether it was blind luck or not, Frodo found the chain and the Ring before Boromir did and, nearly weeping with relief, put it on.

And disappeared.