before

You cannot prevent death. We learn that, at some point. Orpheus learned that, with his wife Eurydice. Voldemort learned that, in the end of all ends. Doctors learn that, when they lose a patient. The little people like us mortals, us children, we cannot stop death, of ourselves or others.

Why I thought my attempts to twist fate would end any other way is now beyond me. Because like every other person alive, every person who ever lived to love, I lost someone, I couldn't stop their death.

I rode into the scene of battle, hearing the cries they released, hobbits, orcs and men. I rode in just as the first arrow shot. I got off Aleece (the name of the horse) just as the second one penetrated his skin. And by the time I had any sort of weapon drawn, even one I couldn't use, the third and final arrow had been fired. And Boromir was too wounded to survive.

I could not save him.

His body fell like a star, swiftly, but to the eyes of mortals, it seemed like an infinity and I'm thankful for that little infinity I got to say goodbye. To say I was sorry.

I was sorry for being a pest, to assume and judge him as a bad person.

I was sorry that I couldn't have saved Gandalf, no matter the price it would cost, it had caused them so much pain. Pain they didn't deserve.

I was sorry that I had abandoned them, that I didn't follow them for my own selfish reasons.

And I was sorry I couldn't save him. I couldn't stop his death.

Boromir. I am sorry.

But the battle still raged on, in war it was not over even with death. There was too much death in war.

My fury and sorrow over his death did not turn me into a raging monster, my skills were not increased with the emotion. If anything I was hazy, dizzy in a sense of my abilities. I did not understand much, I knew that Merry and Pippin perhaps had been taken now.

I only defended myself when I needed to, for the battle was quickly gone where I stood, alone.

A loud, mournful cry filled the air and I raced to the source of it. It was Teles, holding in her arms the nearly lifeless body of Legolas, two arrows in his leg and one in his neck.

"No…" I only managed to whisper. This was not supposed to happen! But I did not cry. I wanted to, to show my woe and that I did care, despite harsh words I said, but the tears were locked firmly on the brim of my eyes.

"I should have been there…. together forever." Teles whispered. She laid her head upon his chest and sobbed. "Why!" She choked out, "why…"

I fell to my knees and grasped his hand, hoping it was not cold, wanting to feel a pulse. "This is my fault." This was my grenade. His hand was faintly warm, like his life was being pulled from him.

"No." Teles said firmly, blinking away her tears and standing up, ignoring the audience of Gimli and Aragorn, racing towards the scene as I had, the horrible, gruesome scene. "This is all Saruman's fault! I'm sick of being used, being a pawn."

Teles ripped of a necklace I had never noticed before. "I came here, a servant, a slave, a spy. No more." She burned the necklace, all I saw was a black crescent moon like the one so long ago I saw in my dream. "I fell in love, met the man of my dreams. No more." Teles was the spy. "It's time I did something useful, for the life of me."

Teles placed a hand upon Legolas' heart and began to murmur a soft song. Not quite Westron, not quite Elvish, unknown truly. It was like the animals and nature and spirits and hopes came to her aid. Her eyes turned glassy, and she fell, almost asleep.

But I knew better.

Legolas sat up straight, the arrows fell from their place and the blood was removed. "What had happened?" Legolas asked.

"Teles gave her life to save you." I tried to summon all the air I could into my lungs to speak. "You- you were dying, and she said that, that she sick of being a pawn. She was the spy of the Fellowship. But in the end she was a hero." The tears I had held since Lothlorien released their grip on my eyes and rolled down my rosy cheeks.

"It was all a lie?" Legolas whispered.

"She loved you." I told him, "that was not a lie. She loved you enough to die for you. To give her life in exchange for yours. She loved you that much."

"The least we can do is give her a proper funeral." Aragorn said, so low I wouldn't have caught it had I been a step farther.

"Boromir." I finally said, Legolas did not know the news, and neither did Gimli. "He fell. Slain by three arrows. And the hobbits, Merry and Pippin, they were taken… and Frodo and Sam." I looked at Aragorn, "where are they? I fear the worst."

"Frodo and Sam are safe, they walk alone on their quest. We were meant for a different path." Aragorn said. "And, Ruth, I am sorry for accusing you of Gandalf's death. I know now that my sorrow had gotten the better of me."

"We should get going," I sniffed. Legolas picked up Teles' graceful form, so beautiful in death, but a haunting aura about her now.

We brought her to the boats, there were two left. Boromir was laid in one of them, cleaned of arrows and his sword on him. We pushed it and watched as the river carried it away. Teles was next.

"Wait." I said, I took off something from my wrist. It was a ribbon, faded and red but it held a great value now to me. Teles herself gave it before she left.

"Take it," she told me, "and when you might miss us, hold onto it. Remember that we'll come home to you. We'll never leave you."

But she did. She left and the worst part was I never got to say goodbye, I never got to tell her everything I wanted to. She left me with broken promises and empty words. I tied the ribbon around her wrist.

"Does anybody have some sort of money?" I asked. Aragorn held out a golden coin, and I took it. I placed it upon Teles' brow, hoping it would travel with her to the world of the spirits. They looked at me questioningly. "It's a Greek legend, that you had to pay Charon or wait on the banks of the River Styx for one-hundred years. I guess since she's a demigod, she'd want to see her father sooner than later." I wiped one more tear from my face and pushed her gently down the river.

The current picked her up and swept her away from us.

Forever.

Depressing, that's kind of the point. I do not own Lord of the Rings. I hoped you liked Legolas' near death and cried for Teles. The journey for Ruth isn't over yet though! There are still many more challenges to come. I am sorry I couldn't update, see, I was lazy and my beta was offline. So I finally, after so many issues I endured the past while, got Arknox442375 to beta this for me until my official beta is online fully. I DONT own LOTR

I give a shoutout to CrazyPandaHobbit who's birthday is March 15th! The reason I got up from the couch, sat down and took an hour to write this chapter. LET'S HEAR IT FOR CrazyPandaHobbit!