"Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved."
-William Jennings, Bryan

The dense forest gave way to barren cliffs, rising on both sides of the river, and Amelia felt that that was both a good and a bad thing. It would make it difficult for anyone to follow them on foot without being spotted, but at the same time it didn't give her much for look at either. That is, until she heard Gimli gasp and she looked up and promptly lost her tongue at the sight herself.

Two enormous statues hewn from the cliffs, as tall as two balrogs on top of each other, stood to greet them, each one with one of their arms stretched out as if to ward off intruders. The size of one of their feet alone was bigger than a mansion.

"The Argonath." Legolas said. "We approach the falls of Rauros." In the distance, the sound of a roaring waterfall could be heard. Amelia tore her eyes away to look at the other two boats. Merry and Pippin were gaping openly, Aragorn looked fascinated and Boromir looked awed at the impressive sight.

"Wow." Amelia breathed, unable to find any words that did the two statues justice.

Their three boats emerged out onto a lake where, at the opposite end, Amelia could see the churning falls of Rauros and not merely hear them. Aragorn steered their procession to the right once again and they pulled the boats ashore. Amelia jumped out of her boat and saw Boromir looking down, clutching the sides of the boat he was still in as if he had some physical pain he had yet to speak of.

"You alright there?" She asked him carefully, weary of how he would act after their spat the night before. He glanced up at her briefly, straightened his back and stepped out of the boat, helping to pull it ashore and Amelia exhaled through her nose. Stumps of what seemed like an old ruin dotted the riverbank and Aragorn quickly got a small fire going, using it to dry their wet clothes. Amelia dumped down close to the fire, briefly pulling out her black gloves to hold her palms out towards the fire.

"We cross the lake at nightfall." Aragorn declared as he lifted their sparse items out of a canoe. "Hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north."

"Oh yes?" Gimli challenged and Aragorn glanced at him. "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!" Amelia rolled her eyes at the dwarf. "Festering, stinking marshlands far as the eye can see."

"Well, if you'd like to turn back…" Amelia let her voice trail off suggestively and Gimli straightened his back.

"Faithless is he that says farewell when the road darkens!" He exclaimed proudly.

"I suggest you get some rest to recover your strength, master dwarf." Aragorn added and Gimli looked deeply insulted.

"Recover my…" He grumbled at Aragorn, who pointedly ignored him. Legolas, who had been staring into the trees, suddenly rushed over to Aragorn and told him something Amelia couldn't hear. Aragorn sounded like he turned him down but Legolas gave a retort that gave him pause. As she attempted to listen in as discretely as possible, Amelia tied her hair back in the same low tail she had gotten the habit of sporting. Before she had joined the Fellowship, she had preferred to have her hair hanging loose around her shoulders, but it posed a problem whenever she got into a fight or a strong wind whipped it into her eyes while wandering the lands.

"Something draws near. I can feel it." She heard Legolas say and her eyes suddenly snapped to where she had seen Boromir sitting, sharpening his sword. He was gone, having left his shield behind.

"Where's Frodo?" She heard Sam exclaim in alarm as she sprung to her feet. She swore loudly, pulled her gloves back on and rushed over to Boromir's shield. She grabbed it from the ground and the pebbles on the riverbank flew as she ran off into the woods, Aragorn calling her name behind her.

"Boromir's played by Sean Bean, you dolt, he'll never survive this!" Amelia yelled back, without realizing that her words would sound like pure nonsense to the rest of the Fellowship.

Belatedly, she realized that she had no idea where she was going and she drew her sword with her right hand, having placed it back in its scabbard as soon as she had stepped ashore. She held Boromir's red shield in her left hand as she rushed through the woods, caring only to find the son of Gondor. Some small part of her wondered why she was suddenly so intent on finding him, but the bigger part of her told the smaller part to hold its tongue. Behind her, she could hear Merry, Pippin and Aragorn calling out for her, calling out for Frodo and even Boromir's name was mentioned a few times.

Suddenly, Amelia stumbled and rolled down a hill, leaves getting caught in her hair and tearing strands out of her ponytail, but she barely noticed it as she rushed onwards. She had left her coat and her backpack on the shore, having forgotten about them as she ran off into the forest.

Then, she heard distant shouting and she sprinted in the direction that it seemed to come from, a branch smacking into her face and scraping her cheek lightly. Her lungs burned from the extortion, but still she willed herself to go faster, running through the trees as if her life depended on it. Her mad dash through the forest would be unlikely to carry her in the right direction, but she did not think of it as she sprinted, all sense gone from her head.

She rushed up a slope and came to an abrupt halt. She just managed to catch a glimpse of Frodo pushing the ring down his finger and disappearing. Boromir had been crawling towards him, grabbing wildly at the band of gold as he scrambled towards him.

The Boromir that Amelia knew was a proud, stubborn man. The Boromir that she was staring at, unable to shake herself out of her fixation, was a madman who had abandoned all dignity. His eyes smoldered, as if he was possessed by some force of malice, and Amelia knew that that was exactly what he was.

She sucked in a sharp breath as Boromir screamed a curse at Frodo, who had disappeared from sight, and Amelia saw leaves rustle without no wind. Then, Boromir was flipped backwards, as if he had been kicked in the head and he rolled down the slope. The dry leaves rustled once again as Frodo fled and then, there was only silence as Boromir lay on the ground, gasping for breath as he slowly pulled himself up. He gasped something and Amelia's limbs unfroze as she slowly approached him, step by step.

"What have I done…" With a start, Amelia realized that he was weeping. "Frodo, I'm sorry! Come back! I'm sorry!" He called hopelessly and clutched his head as he sat on his knees, mourning his own folly.

"Boromir." Amelia's voice was much harsher than she had expected, but she felt like Boromir deserved it. He wasn't completely innocent, even if it hadn't been his intention to fall so far. He didn't respond to her voice and she moved around him, since she had approached him from behind. Then, she stood still in front of him and looked down on him, feeling close to no compassion for him. Frodo was her friend and even the brief moment of struggling she had seen between him and Boromir was enough to make her heart grow cold towards him.

"Boromir!" She snapped and the man raised his head up at her, desperation shining in his eyes. She gave him a long, hard stare, then broke eye contact by closing her eyes. "Damn it all. Knew I should have been watching you closer." Boromir didn't answer her, but merely made another sob. Amelia sheathed her sword and knelt down in front of him, blowing a wisp of hair out of her face. "Look. I don't know what we are; friends, acquaintances, opponents, but I do know that you aren't a bad man. Whether you're a good one is… still up for debate, but… I've found that, when we really hit the bottom, we have the biggest opportunity to change." She looked into his eyes. "So do me a favor and get up, yeah?" She held out her right hand and Boromir stared at it as if it was going to clench and punch him. Amelia waited impatiently, but then he took it hesitantly. "Thatta boy." Amelia muttered and pulled him up. He stumbled and she grabbed his shoulder to steady him. She noticed that he was staring at her and she looked away. Then, her eyes widened in alarm.

"Hey you!" A distant voice shouted. It was a hobbit's voice. "Over here!" Her head whipped towards Boromir, who didn't seem to have heard it yet.

"Dear god, can't you guys get anything done by yourselves?" She moaned. "Come on!" Then, Boromir's eyes lit up with a spark of something as he too heard the yells and Amelia had to press herself to keep up with him. Despite her weeks in the wild, she still had quite a ways to go before she could keep up with Boromir's stamina. She had completely forgotten that she still held Boromir's shield in her left hand.

"It's working!" She heard Pippin's voice shout in delight. It seemed quite close by then.

"I know it's working, run!" She heard Merry yell back and, finally, as she and Boromir ran up a dried out river, towards the ruins of an old stone bridge, she saw Merry and Pippin standing on the bridge, black shapes approaching them from both sides.

The Uruk-Hai didn't look like the orcs from Moria. The orcs from Khazad-Dûm had been small and slimy, with large eyes, and many of them hunchbacked. The Uruk-Hai were tall and bulging with muscles, their skin dark like leather and many with long, dark manes of hair. Their yellow eyes shone through their iron helmets, all bearing a white hand slapped crudely on the forehead.

Boromir jumped in front of Merry and Pippin right as an orc got too close for comfort and the orc met its swift end at his blade. He threw a knife at another orc and hit it in the throat. Amelia chanted a steady "shit, shit, shit, shit, shit…" As she too leapt into the fray, keeping a watchful eye on the slopes for any orc with a bow, she drew Aeglos just in time to send it through the neck of an orc. It felt different than the Moria-orcs too. Amelia hated herself for thinking it, but those had been softer. Instead of charging off on her own, she resolved to staying close to Boromir, Merry and Pippin, who threw rocks at the orcs to distract them whenever they got an opening.

Watching Boromir fight was inspiring and vaguely terrifying. The man was a monster in a fight, focused and determined. He swung his sword in wide arcs, using his weight and strength to maximum effect.

Then, when it seemed as if the orcs came from all sides at once, Boromir drew the horn and let out three loud blasts. The sound seemed to cleave Amelia's head, loud and clear as crystal, and it echoed throughout the forest. The sound itself was a testament to the might of men. The orcs slowed, hesitated, then charged on and began to press Boromir and Amelia backwards in their attempt to reach Merry and Pippin. When Amelia got distracted, Boromir had to throw an orc over his back to survive and Merry and Pippin tackled it, drawing the daggers given to them by Galadriel and stabbing it wildly through the head.

"Run! Run!" Boromir shouted at the hobbits as more orcs poured down over the hill and Amelia scrambled backwards, almost falling onto her back. An orc leapt at her and she rolled, remembering not to block with her sword. Boromir stabbed it through the back and whirled around to slice open the throat of another. Amelia looked up from her spot on the ground, still crawling backwards, and then she saw it; an enormous orc emerging at the top of a hill too far away for her to reach in time, carrying a large, black bow in his hands. Boromir was too busy fighting to see it, even as Amelia gestured and screamed at it and him. It drew an arrow from its quiver and placed it on its bowstring, raising its weapon and Amelia barely realized that, in that moment, she made a decision. She rushed to her feet and tackled Boromir from the side as the arrow flew towards him and he grunted as he hit the ground, Amelia on top of him.

"Thank me later!" Amelia snarled and raised her blade instinctively as she turned away to get up. That move saved her life, for another orc had just brought its scimitar down upon them. Her sword had, by chance, blocked it. "They have an archer!" She pointed towards the orc, who had readied yet another arrow and Amelia threw herself aside to avoid meeting an untimely end.

Then, she lost of Boromir as her sight narrowed to encompass only her and the orcs. Her world became the fight. Her breath became her stubbornness. Her reason for existence became the next throat she slit, the next chest she stabbed, the next stomach she cut open to watch its guts spill out.

It seemed the killing would never find its end, but then she caught sight of him again and hurried towards him, seeing Lurtz, for that was the name of the archer, even though she did not know that, ready another arrow and pull back the string. All sense abandoned her as she pushed herself to the limit and lunged at the same time Lurtz let go of his arrow.

Instead of colliding with Boromir again, Amelia landed in front of him and her mouth widened as she felt as if someone had shoved her backwards roughly. Boromir shouted something, but Amelia couldn't hear it over the snarling of the orcs. Then, pain exploded throughout her left shoulder as the feeling of an arrowhead lodged in her flesh and scraping against her bones finally took root and Amelia screamed, for she had never known a pain like it before. She staggered backwards and fell on her back, the black shaft, much thicker than she had expected, protruding from her shoulder like a flag. Her blood stained her sweater. The memory of her own dead face flashed behind her eyes and she caught Merry and Pippin's horrified eyes. Then, her eyes flittered upwards and her fingers curled around the hilt of her sword, so tight that her knuckles turned white beneath her gloves.

"No…" She whispered through the haze of pain. She could scarcely hear her own protest. She grasped the sword tighter as Merry and Pippin rushed towards her.

"Amelia…" Merry gasped and she struggled to get up.

"Help… me… up!" She hissed at him and Pippin opened his mouth to protest. She could hear Boromir's sword clashing against the scimitars and swords of the orcs and she knew that Lurtz had plenty more arrows to shoot if he wished. "Now!" Hesitantly, Merry and Pippin grabbed one of her arms each and pulled her upwards and she cried out sharply from the pain.

With sweat pouring down her head, blood dripping from her nostrils and down the side of her face from another gash in her hairline, she stumbled to her feet and rushed forwards clumsily, past Boromir, Merry and Pippin, past the orcs that tried to stop her, straight towards Lurtz. Her left shoulder screamed in pain when she tried to cover her head with her shield and she resolved to holding it half up and ducking down behind it as she charged, a human battering ram. She heard Merry and Pippin crying out, but she ignored them, electing to put every ounce of energy left in her body to use against the one who had planted an arrow in her body. She felt the force of two arrows hitting the shield as she lunged through the air and crashed into the archer, her sword sinking through to the hilt. Lurtz roared and threw her off. She rolled, half of the shaft sticking out of her breaking off and then, she lay on her back on the forest floor again, tears of pain and fear leaking out of her eyes. Stubbornness took ahold of her again and she pushed herself up of her elbows with a groan. Black spots danced in her vision. She saw the shapes of Merry and Pippin being carried off distantly and Boromir shouted their names, but the orcs were overwhelming him, pressing him back and, though he clearly wished to do anything but, he was forced to focus on preserving his own life.

Amelia felt a cold rush in her head, flowing downwards and her thoughts turned sluggish. She saw Lurtz pull back his bowstring and she knew that, since no one was there to stop it, the arrow would hit its mark and her pain would have been for naught.

The distant cry of "Elendil!" reached her ears and she let her head fall backwards, staring up towards the sky. The sound of clashing blades and the sharp sound of swooshing arrows started to fade, but the pain refused to dim, sharp tendrils of it shooting through her body. Her entire left side was covered in blood by then. It ran down her left arm as well and dripped from her hand, wet and sticky.

Then, Boromir's face was hovering over her, but it was too fuzzy to make out his expression. Then, it was Aragorn. His mouth moved, but Amelia's brain caught the words in a jumble, unable to understand them as the sentence they were. Amelia's grip on Boromir's shield and her sword loosened and voices buzzed in her ears.

Then, someone was cutting in her, in the wound the arrow had left. Her mouth flew upon and an ungodly scream pierced the air. She had not been aware that she could even make such a sound. Them, finally, it disappeared, along with the presence of the arrowhead still lodged in her shoulder and Amelia wept like an infant in relief. Her lips were grey, her skin was pale and clammy and had she closed her eyes, her face would have been the one from Galadriel's mirror. She clung to awareness as pain flared through her, even as her sight blurred and her hearing dimmed, and she refused to bend to the tempting numbness of losing consciousness.

She choked and spluttered as something was forced down her throat. It tasted pleasant and invigorating and Amelia blinked as the trees came back into focus, Aragorn's face hovering over hers.

"More." She choked out and Aragorn held the small vial to her lips once again. In little time, she had emptied the whole bottle and she gasped as her sight and hearing grew clear once again. "Hell was… hell was tha…"

"Miruvor, a liquor of much vigor. I have carried it since Rivendell, in the hope that we would not have need of it." Aragorn's word were low and rushed. Amelia's shoulder was still bleeding, but no arrowhead or shaft sat in it any longer and Amelia realized that it had literally been cut out of her. "You have lost much blood."

"No shit…" She forced every word out. She wanted to say more, but Aragorn's eyes told her to be silent all on their own. She wisely shut her mouth. Her sweater had been pulled off of her, something that made her slightly uncomfortable, and Aragorn held out his hand. Someone, Amelia didn't have the strength to turn her head to see who it was, pressed a waterskin into his outstretched hand and he poured water onto her open wound carefully, mindful of causing her as little pain as possible. She grunted as his hands flittered over her wound once again.

"I am out of bandages." He muttered to himself and Amelia grit her teeth.

"Here." Legolas' pale hand came into view, holding a white roll and Aragorn took it.

"Hold her up."

"Wait, wait, wait!" Amelia exclaimed weakly, but she was promptly ignored as large hands grabbed her shoulders and pushed her forward, up into a sitting position. She hissed animalistically, angrily, at whoever it was.

"Sorry, lass." She heard Gimli mutter and she made another growl at him. Aragorn's wrapping of her shoulder was over nearly before it began. His movements were calm, unshaking and trained, the work of an experienced healer. However, Amelia felt immensely uncomfortable when he had to take her white shirt off as well. His eyes didn't stray though and Amelia had to remind herself that she trusted him to do his work and no more. The wrapping started around her upper arm and then it climbed up to encompass her shoulder. Finally, Aragorn wrapped it around her torso as well, effectively tying her left arm in place.

"She needs rest. I would prefer to stitch her shoulder, but a tight enough bandage will have to do for now." Aragorn turned his head to tell someone, but Amelia couldn't hear their reply. "That will have to wait for now. If they carried them off, they don't intend to kill them." Aragorn turned back to her and Amelia suddenly remembered that she still had Boromir's shield in her hands.

"Shield." She glanced at it and pulled her hands away. Two arrows still sat in it.

"I hardly think that's our greatest concern now." Gimli exclaimed and she took a deep breath. The excruciating, scraping pain had instead become a steady thumping in her shoulder.

"Can you make it back to the boats?" Aragorn looked like he loathed himself for even asking the question in the first place.

"You just watch me." Amelia's stubbornness flared again and she saw Legolas shake his blond head at her in exasperation. She glared at him and held out her right hand for Aragorn to take. He stood up and pulled her to her feet. She staggered, momentarily losing her balance, but then Aragorn's other hand snaked around her waist to steady her. She mumbled a thanks at him and took a hesitant step forwards and her knees buckled. Aragorn caught her before she fell and she heard someone mutter something.

"I'll take her." Boromir stepped forwards and Amelia saw that he avoided her eyes. He turned around and said "Up.". Amelia blinked in confusion, but then she remembered the way the orcs had carried Merry and Pippin on their backs and realized what Boromir meant by it. She mustered enough strength to jump up and lock her arms around her shoulders. He grunted a little, but then strode forwards like she weighed nothing at all. She glanced back to see Aragorn carrying her shirt and sweater under his left arm. She turned back and rested her cheek on the back of Boromir's neck. Her eyelids dropped again, but she refused to fall asleep or lose consciousness, tightening her legs around him.

She made a small sound of protest at his jolting pace, but it didn't seem that he heard her.

Finally, the five of them reached the shore and Amelia let go, falling heavily onto the bank with a grunt. Boromir took a few steps away from her, nonchalantly, and sat down as well, but Amelia felt his eyes on her and he bore a strange expression.

"Frodo and Sam will have crossed the lake by now." Legolas observed with a frown. He stared at the opposite end of the lake and Amelia hummed, rubbing her face with her right hand. She noticed that it was still an unhealthy, pale color, far more pale than she had ever seen it before.

"We can't follow them." She sounded just as tired as she felt.

"Then it has all been in vain." Gimli grumbled, uncharacteristically hopeless. "The Fellowship has failed." Aragorn stepped forwards and grasped Gimli's shoulders with both of his hands.

"Not if we hold true to each other." He assured the dwarf and Gimli grinned up at him, his left hand rising to clasp Aragorn's right arm. "We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death. Not while we have strength left." Then, he turned towards Amelia and kneeled down in front of her. "What is our course?" Amelia blinked at him.

"You're asking me?!" She exclaimed, but then she groaned and rolled her head. Pain flared as she rolled her shoulders and she winced in regret. She took a deep breath and her dizziness faded ever so slightly. "Of course you are… Oh, let me think for a moment…" She hesitated with her answer. "Look, everything has changed by now." She glanced at Boromir, but then at Legolas as well, to give the impression that Boromir had had nothing to do with what had changed in the first place. "My… predictions… are going to be a bit wobbly… I still can't just tell you everything, but… I don't know whether it's a good idea for me to go with you. I'm, well, not at my best." She glared halfheartedly at her left arm. "I'll slow you down, don't bother denying it." Then, she smiled, slowly. "But I do have a bit of an idea. Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli… think you're up for hunting some orc?" Her answer was Gimli laughing and raising his axe. She grinned back at him. "Awesome. I'll take Boromir and head… somewhere. I've got a few ideas about that, we'll figure it out."

"Then it is decided." Aragorn stood again and sheathed the dagger he had been holding loosely in his hand. He put down Amelia's shirt and sweater beside her. "Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light." Legolas picked up a single pack of lembas and Aragorn came over to Amelia as she stood up. He pressed his right hand to his left shoulder. "It has been my singular honor to travel with you both." He declared sincerely and Amelia grinned weakly at him before embracing him with her right arm. He returned it, gently. Amelia gave Gimli's shoulder a squeeze with her good hand, looked into Legolas' eyes and nodded at him and she watched them turn away with a slight smile on her face. Boromir stood up once again and shook hands with Aragorn, nodded to Legolas and Gimli and then, the man, the elf and the dwarf rushed off into the woods, away from Amelia and Boromir, leaving the two standing in silence on the bank.

"What do we do now?" Boromir asked her, the shame of his actions still burning in his eyes. Amelia turned her head and a smile slowly spread across her face.

"We have the whole of Middle-Earth before us and by rights, we don't even exist." She sighed and looked back at where she caught a brief flash of Legolas' pale hair amidst the trees before they were gone, swallowed up by Amon Hen. "I haven't got the faintest idea."