I have no excuse. I give you permission to kill me, because I deserve no better. My muse was lost... then found again!

Chapter Ten

It was a very strange sensation having someone strapped to your back.

Aragorn, along with the helpful hands of Legolas and Telgeiras, had wasted no time in strapping an unconscious Boromir to Dasha's back after they had removed the arrows and dressed and dealt with the wounds as best they could. Telgeiras, it turned out, had brought some elvish balm that soothed and sealed wounds. Dasha began to wonder if this human could ever do wrong.

Gimli. Legolas. Aragorn. Their faces were stained with dark blood, grime and sorrow – sorrow for the friends that had left with the greatest challenge of all and sorrow for the friends that were lost. Merry and Pippin were lost and Dasha gathered after a few moments that Aragorn had no intention of leaving them behind. And Tom… Dasha could not tell what he was thinking or feeling because she struggled to read the body language of a wolf.

They had first faced the problem of how to keep Boromir on her back. At one stage Aragorn had even mentioned that the lightest in the group – Legolas – ride with Boromir and keep him upright. At the mentioning of the idea the Dasha had flattened her ears in a foul-temper and stamped her hoof. The idea was degrading. No one was to ride on her back, save it be for an emergency. Boromir was the emergency – Legolas was not. Besides, she was finding it hard enough adapting with just one body on top of her.

They placed the only blanket in their possession on Dasha's back and tightly bound Boromir's chest and stomach to minimize the bleeding. The large human was then lifted onto Dasha's back, and she suppressed her dismay. How was she meant to carry such a huge lump of a human so far? Boromir's eyes flickered open briefly and he groaned as he was rested on her back.

"Dasha is carrying you to safety. Fear not, brother – your life is in good hands." Aragorn could not tell whether he understood. He then gently grasped Boromir's wrists and bound them together around Dasha's neck with a strip of cloth. Aragorn gestured to her to move.

He won't stay on me, Tom! I feel like he might fall off any moment!

He flinched at the inside voice. The wolf was feeling the most intense mixture of emotions he had ever felt. He had just killed. The gore he had witnessed not two hours ago had been revolting and shocking. The brutality of this all had hit him. Why had she involved herself? He felt as though her safety rode on his shoulders. It was his duty to protect her! But at the same time, he was so overjoyed. His Dasha was here to keep him company when he felt so detached from the fellowship and so far from what he had ever known. He wondered which of those emotions he was purveying now. Even he didn't know. Tom was finding it hard to even comprehend she was so close and as she spoke, he found it hard to look at her. He didn't look in her direction; instead he quickly relayed her fears to Aragorn neutrally.

There was a slight pause. "Legolas will go with you, he is swiftest and will keep Boromir steady. Gimli, Tom and I will follow after Merry and Pippin."

Tom saw Dasha's head snap in his direction in alarm but he played it cool, feeling happy that she would be heading away from danger.

Can Telgieras come also?

Dasha thought it a shame that the communication system they had already sorted on their journey to Amon Hen go to waste. Tom relayed her question, irritated that she seemed to like him somewhat.

"Nay, Lady. I will return to Galadriel and await her next command. Your journey is not for me." Telgeiras informed her warmly while Tom scowled at how quietly suave he seemed. Dasha liked that his type, he knew. "It was a pleasure and my honor." He then produced a small silky bag and handed it to Legolas. Dasha recognized it as the same Galadriel had packed her gifts in. "Farewell and safe journey."

The human turned and moved away quickly and quietly away - disappearing into the forest.

"It is our turn now, let us make haste." Aragorn said quietly after fare welling Telgeiras. He then placed a hand on Legolas' shoulder said, "We will catch the Uruk before they arrive at Isengard, which is a straight line West. You head South-west to Edoras, three days hard from here. Do not let Dasha stop for more then one hour, or she will stiffen. In that hour a day clean Boromir's wounds and rebound. Farewell my good friend, we will meet again soon."

They started up the leafy slope as one group and Dasha took her final chance to speak to Tom.

I guess we're meant to be apart. Maybe I'll find Rachel – I know that she would stick with me. She wouldn't let me be alone. Dasha felt bitter and she showed it clearly. How dare he had leave her in Lothlorien in the first place! She subconsciously knew she was being dramatic… but, frankly, she didn't care. The prospect of another three days inside of her head had her in a emotional uproar.

I left you to protect you - Tom started hesitantly.

Protect me from everything but madness! I'm caged inside of my head without you – with out someone to talk to. This is another world, Tom. It's completely different. I feel like a might be going mad because – for God's sake – I'm living the Lord of the Rings! Then I'm meant to keep it all in my head while the only person who understands doesn't seem to have a problem with leaving me alone to drown in my thoughts. She had a right to be dramatic, surely. Everything she had known had been torn away. She wanted her own home, own life and own body back.

It's my job to protect you, okay? Tom threw back. You should be glad someone is looking out for you because, looking around, I don't see many other people really focused on you at the moment. He softened a little. Come on Dash - I'm for you not against you.

But Dasha hadn't been listening. Tom had never, ever been protective in the year they had known each other. She had always wanted one of those protective males in her life because she thought it showed how much they truly cared about the girl. But now it was her was in that situation and the protectiveness she had wanted back in the Old World meant nothing if she couldn't actually be around him.

I hate this. I'm so sick. I want me and my life back.

Oh, where are you Rachel?

'Pain? You don't know the meaning of the word.'

The tacky movie line popped into Dasha's head with cruel intentions, late afternoon on the second day towards Edoras.

It made her list everything she was missing about home and how much she wanted to watch movies on her couch at home instead of feeling so wretched and so incredibly stressed. She was feeling pain in her legs, yes, but the real pain she was feeling was for Boromir. But it was good in a way, because Boromir's pain had kept her from focusing on her own for many days now. He had become feverish. His head, which was resting on her neck, felt incredibly hot on her coat and he was constantly making small agonised groans.

Legolas found himself constantly jogging by Dasha's side keeping Boromir from sagging too heavily to one side. One and a half hours was spent each night by a fire – Dasha would graze around the rocky landscape and find spots of good grass while Legolas would clean and rebind the wound, have a bite to eat and finally the two would sleep for a short while.

Dasha woke on the third day with an itch of hope. Maybe today they would see the Golden Hall?

It was still many hours until morning and it was cold. Dasha sensed they were starting out later then they were meant too. There was a little moon-lit light and by this she could see the dark form of Boromir shivering by smoky remains of the fire.

"Aye, I rested too long." Legolas soft voice came as he touched her shoulder from the darkness, "The thought of lifting Boromir to your shoulders saw dread in me."

She watched as he moved towards Boromir. After a moment he rose suddenly. "We must get Boromir to Edoras today – before noon! His face sweats and heats but his hands are cold, a fierce fever has a hold." He hoisted the human to his shoulders as Dasha moved closer. She fell to her knees, denying him the effort of having to lift him to her shoulders. "Thanks-you lady," he grunted as Boromir fell heavily on her back. Legolas bound his hands around her neck and Dasha, filled with renewed energy, got to her feet without a prolonged effort.

"Color has been draining from his face for a day now and blood seeps through his tunic. Now is the time to make speed!" Legolas stood at her head, his voice full of urgency. "When the sun rises you will see mountains. Head towards them and you will find Edoras and the Golden Hall – I will follow you there. But now, the Steward's son is in your care. Fly now Dasha!"

Dasha wheeled violently and galloped. Never have she felt such purpose.

Dasha caused a great thundering as she flew towards those mountains. The sun had risen many hours ago and she had been relentless – her hooves flew her faster then she had ever felt it possible. But it felt as though she were on her tread-mill at home. She was running hard but getting no where.

The mountains stayed where they were – hazy and distant. Then finally, when her eyes spotted a familiar mass of rock in the middle of a vast plain, her mind finally stopped urgently repeating the word 'Edoras' and she snapped into intelligence and out of her automatic hypnotizing rhythm. Her first thought was Boromir. She could still feel the heavy weight of him bearing down on her, but something felt different.

The heat!

She couldn't feel his burning head against her neck anymore.
For a second Dasha thought that maybe his fever had passed...

A bird had been following the progress of a flame hued mare for sometime now. She was a bird of prey with small eyes sparkling with intelligence and a pinch of madness. She had been on her own for a long while.

There never was a lack of an interesting spectacle for that bird. She had watched Uruk belting through the land with two hobbits in tow, seen hundreds of horsemen fleeing the City-on-the-hill and watched as countless villages were pillaged and burnt to the ground by Uruk. The wolf had really caught her attention though, especially since he was accompanied by a man and dwarf obviously after hobbit-carrying Uruk. Everyone was in a hurry. She had left the area and decided to cruise back to the City-on-the-hill. The rabbits were better there.

It was then that she had spotted that bright chestnut horse, bolting as fast as its legs could carry it, and on its back was the body of an ill-fated looking rider. She followed the horse's progress with effort; it was taking ground almost faster then she could fly. Impressive. The horse slowed not a mile away from the City-on-the-hill and craned its neck to view the state of the rider. The bird felt a small bit sad for the horse, who gave a peircing whinnie at the rider, and recieved no reaction in return.

It had been a grand effort.

Would you like me to write another chapter? Well review and I might :)