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A Broken Heart

(Frodo)

Most of the next day was uneventful, although the Ring-bearer kept side-glancing Boromir. One of these times, his eyes fell on Drifter. She looked more pensive than ever and kept glimpsing at the Man behind her. The casual observer would not have noticed the fleeting look of worry on her face. He suddenly felt Aragorn's hand on his shoulder as he pointed to the two giant statues ahead.

"Frodo, the Argonath! Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old. My kin."

A soft voice began a song which was foreign to the hobbit's ears. He looked around for a few seconds before he realized that the music was coming from the woman. Even though all of the Fellowship was staring at her, she kept paddling, deep in thought.

"Et Eärello Endorenna utúlien. Sinome maruvan ar Hildinyar tenn' Ambar-metta (Out of the Great Sea to Middle-earth I am come. In this place I will abide, and my heirs, unto the ending of the world)…"

...apparently pensive and content.

"How do you know that song?" Aragorn queried, moving his canoe closer to the one Drifter was in.

"I learned it from my trainer when I was quite young. I'm surprised that I even remember it," was the emotionless reply.

Around noon, they reached the falls and stopped on the western side.

"We cross the lake at nightfall," Aragorn ordered. "Hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north."

(Drifter)

"Oh, yes?" Gimli asked the ranger Man. "It's 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!"

Drifter ignored the rest of the dwarf's rant and slipped off into the woods, taking the direction Boromir had gone. She was careful to not step on any twigs as she followed his trail. The ranger knelt on the ground, hearing Boromir's voice on the other side of the small hill.

"We're all afraid, Frodo. But to let that fear drive us to destroy what hope we have…don't you see, that is madness?"

"There is no other way!" Frodo argued.

"I ask only for the strength to defend my people!" the Man barked, throwing the wood he had been gathering onto the ground. Drifter put a hand on her sword. She had no intention whatsoever to harm Boromir, but she needed to be prepared to defend the hobbit if it came down to it. "If you would but lend me the Ring…"

"No," the halfling said, taking a step back.

"Why do you recoil? I am no thief."

"You are not yourself."

"What chance do you think you have? They will find you! They will take the Ring and you will beg for death before the end!"

Judging that Boromir was taking it too far, she stood. When Frodo saw her, he began walking towards her, but was followed by Boromir.

"You fool! It is not yours, save by unhappy chance."

"Boromir," Drifter warned, steadily approaching him. By the time she reached him and grabbed his arm, he was already tackling Frodo, yelling,

"It could have been mine! It should be mine! Give it to me! Give it to me! Give me the Ring!"

"Boromir!" the girl yelled again, only to be hurled back onto the leaf-carpeted ground, which knocked the breath out of her slightly. When she sat up, Frodo had disappeared and Boromir was frantically looking around, still in his rage.

"I see your mind," he growled. "You will take the Ring to Sauron! You will betray us! You'll go to your death and the death of us all! Curse you! Curse you! And all the halflings!" At that, he tripped on a root and fell flat on his face, while Drifter stood, warily.

"Frodo?" he was whispering. "Frodo?...what have I done?...please…Frodo! Frodo, I'm sorry! Frodo!"

"Boromir!" the woman said, running to him and kneeling beside him as he collapsed.

"Falathiel," he sobbed, crying into her shoulder. "What have I done?"

"It's alright, Boromir, he's gone. The Ring is out of our reach. There is nothing you can do to take it back. It's done." She held Boromir as he gained control of his emotions. His deep red hair glistened in the light. "Boromir," she continued, "you should know that Falathiel is not my real name."

"I know. My father told me who you are."

"I should have never told that old man my identity, thinking that he would grant me sanctuary any longer." Suddenly, Drifter heard a noise somewhere in the trees. "Uruk-Hai!" she hissed, rising and drawing her sword.

"Hey! Over here!" they heard the faint sound of hobbits calling. The couple began racing in the direction of the voices.

"There's another thing you should know," Drifter stated as she ran side by side with Boromir.

"What is it?"

"I love you too." Instead of joy, worry clouded the Man's face.

"What about what I did earlier?"

"The Ring was in control of you. You were not responsible for what you did."

"But you did not fall to its influence, I did."

"It does not matter, tia mela (my love)." Boromir smiled at the elvish title and quickly kissed Drifter on the cheek before drawing his own sword. They soon came over a hill where they were able to see Merry and Pippin about to be attacked by a hoard of Uruks. Drifter raised her sword and cut down the first enemy she encountered, while Boromir went a few feet further to intercept a blow meant for the hobbits. Minutes went by as the girl danced among her foes, killing and counting with each movement. When she hit twelve, the Gondorian blew his horn, calling for the aid of their friends. The orcs just kept coming in an endless flow, keeping the ranger occupied while Boromir blew the horn once more before continuing the fight, calling out to the hobbits,

"Run! Run!"

Suddenly, Boromir fell to his knees, an arrow in his left shoulder.

"Boromir!" she screamed, cutting down the oncoming Uruks suddenly between them. When the girl once again caught sight of the Man, he was going on with the fight and the wound did not appear to be too bad. She contented herself with killing her foes nearby until she heard Boromir gasp. Drifter was only a few feet away from the determined Gondorian as a third projectile buried itself in his chest. Her pause of shock was just enough for one of the Uruks to hit her in her upper left arm with one of their strange weapons. Ignoring the pain while the rest of the orcs went on by, Drifter looked up the hill to discover where the arrows had come from: a large Uruk-Hai. The creature was stalking towards Boromir from his perch, aiming a fourth arrow. Frantically looking between the foe and his target, the woman ran a few feet forward, knocking a gasping Boromir over as the arrow lodged itself in her side. She landed with thump and quickly rolled onto her back to see the Uruk standing in front of Boromir, who had somehow managed to once again kneel, with an arrow prepared to be fired. Drifter struggled to rise, but the pain from her side had not subsided. All of sudden, Aragorn collided with the Uruk, causing the arrow to fly off harmlessly.

Unable to aid the other ranger in his fight, Drifter crawled to Boromir, who was lying on his back. His face was deathly pale, a sign which the girl was familiar with as she lifted the warrior's head to rest on her lap and brushed away the hair in his face. She had done exactly the same when Arathorn was dying. The woman couldn't cry, however. She had cried twice since her return to Rivendell. Now, the tears would not come. She felt numb, indifferent and broken at the same time. Aragorn finally killed the Uruk, ran over to Boromir, and knelt beside him.

"They took the little ones," Boromir forced out, grabbing the ranger's shoulder.

"Be still," the other Man commanded.

"Frodo! Where is Frodo?"

As Boromir lifted his head, Drifter slipped away and began cleaning her sword. She had the same uncaring, dead feeling she had experienced while killing Elrond's advisors all those years ago…she hated it.

"I let Frodo go."

"Then you did what I could not. I tried to take the Ring from him. Falathiel tried to stop me."

"The Ring is beyond our reach now."

"Forgive me. I did not see it. I have failed you all."

"No, Boromir, you fought bravely! You have kept your honor." At that, Aragorn reached for the arrows to pull them out.

"Leave it! It is over. The world of men will fall, and all will come to darkness…and my city to ruin."

"I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you I will not let the White City fall…nor our people fail!"

"Our people? Our people. I would have followed you, my Brother…my Captain…My King!"

After Aragorn placed Boromir's sword in his hand, the Man died. Drifter was in denial. Four of the men she had loved in life were gone in one way or another: Arathorn, Legolas, Gandalf, and Boromir.

"Be at peace, son of Gondor," Aragorn was whispering before he stood, a single tear running down his cheek. Legolas and Gimli finally arrived; however, they stopped short upon seeing Boromir. "They will look for his coming from the White Tower. But he will not return."

(Aragorn)

The future king's eyes then settled on Drifter, who was leaning on a nearby tree for support, an arrow protruding from her side. She looked distant, as if not aware of their presence or her injury. Walking closer to the woman, he noted that her shoulder was also bleeding from a gash, although he could not tell how deep it was. It was not until the others approached her as well that she finally looked at them. As Aragorn made eye contact with her, he saw that her blue eyes had an icy sheen to them, whether from sorrow or apathy he could not tell.

"Drifter?" Legolas addressed her. The girl snapped her head to glare at the elf, who took a step back.

"Will you let us help you?" Aragorn cautiously asked, to which the girl responded by slowly nodding her head. A few minutes passed as the ranger removed the arrow, cleaned the wounds, and bound them with bandages from Drifter's bag still on her back. Finally, they were able to move Boromir's body to the shore and into one of the remaining canoes, for Frodo and Sam had taken the third one to cross the river. Nearly the whole time, Drifter stared blankly at river, the reflecting light dancing on her golden locks.

"Hurry!" Legolas yelled, beginning to push the last boat into the water as Boromir's craft disappeared over the waterfall. "Frodo and Sam have reached the eastern shore." When Aragorn made no comment, the elf continued, "You mean not to follow them?"

"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands."

"Then it has all been in vain!" Gimli exclaimed despairingly. "The Fellowship has failed."

"Not if we hold true to each other," the ranger countered. "We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death. Not while we have strength left. Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light. Let's hunt some orc!" His gaze once again found Drifter. She had donned a long, dark blue vest from her bag along with the cloak and was checking her weapons, but clearly favoring her left arm. "Are you sure that you're up for this?" he asked her.

When she turned to him, Aragorn noticed that she looked more determined and impassive than ever.

"My legs are fine, Aragorn," she replied. "My other injuries will take some time to heal, but they can do that on the move."

"Then, shall we?"

"Yes!" the dwarf confirmed.

(Drifter)

The woman took one last look at the river before running after Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli into the forest. One way or another, she would have her revenge for Boromir.

Thanks for reading! I know…this one was REALLY short, but I don't like ending one movie and beginning another in one chapter. The Two Towers will begin on the next chapter. I hope you've enjoyed it so far. Please review!