A/N: First I must apologize again for taking forever! I really will try to update more frequently. Second I must thank Mundster Madman for your review. That was the nicest thing! You're gonna give me a big head.

Anyways on to the next chapter…

Ch. 4

Laurel woke before dawn. She got up from her mat, briefly glancing over at Boromir. He was on his side, one hand grasping his sword the other bent inward pillowing his head. She wasn't worried about waking him. He was clearly still sound asleep. She sighed. She had not slept well. She walked over to a large, flat rock, about four feet high, nearby and hoisted herself up onto it, so she could easily see the surrounding fields. She sat down on it, tucking her knees to her chest. She desperately wanted the sun to rise. Nightmares had plagued her in her sleep, dreams of terrible monsters, howling beasts brandishing sharp swords, a white hand emblazoned on their helmets. She tried to hide but could not, tried to run but her legs would not move, tried to scream but found herself frozen in terror as the beasts surrounded her, beating their chests and jumping towards her. She couldn't remember what happened next in the dream. He recollection just faded to black. The more she tried to picture it the more it slipped away. No great loss, she supposed. Whatever had happened was surely just as horrific as the rest of the dream.

Either way if the sun did not come up soon, she might burst into tears. She wasn't scared anymore, not really. Just upset. Disturbed even. She tried not to focus on it anymore, turning her thoughts instead to why she had dreamed such horrors. She never had nightmares. It wasn't because she had slept outside—she always slept outside—no, it was because she felt…different. It was the first time she had tried to sleep since turning mortal, she realized. She had lived such a long time and now death was on her doorstep. She probably had 70 maybe even 80 years left to live but death felt so..close to her now. If only the sun would rise then she would feel better. It couldn't be much longer. The fields around her already held a bluish-grey tint from the pre-dawn light. Back home in the forest this was her favorite time of day. The dim morning light transformed everything into something ethereal, made her feel closer to the Valar she so revered, but now it just felt ghostly, haunted.

She smiled. She could see the top of the sun peaking over the horizon now. She waited there a while as it rose, flooding the field with gold and chasing the ghosts away. It rose up away from the earth too soon. She waited just a moment longer. Eyes closed, she allowed herself to simply bask in the warmth. Then she turned, regretfully, to wake Boromir.

Rather than get down from her perch she opted to throw some smaller stones at Boromir to rouse him. Her first toss missed. So did her second. Wow, she was pathetic. She managed to hit him on the third try, but he did not move. She tried again, this time hitting him square in the back of the head. He groaned quietly, and rolled over onto his chest. This was getting nowhere. The man was a deep sleeper. She got up stiffly and hopped down from the rock, slowly making her way towards Boromir.

"Boromir. Oh Boromir," she whispered, drawing out the name in a sing-song voice. "Won't you please get up?" Still there was no movement. She tried again a little louder. "Boromir, what is that you are doing. Sleeping? That's adorable, truly, but we really should be off." Absolutely no response. She rolled her eyes. "Boromir! Get up!" she commanded. "You are wasting the day away!" Boromir lifted his head. His eyes slowly opened, and he glanced lazily over at Laurel.

"What, what? What is the matter?" he said rather groggily. If something was wrong he would certainly be no help in this state.

"Oh nothing," she replied nonchalantly. "I just thought you might like to start the day now, what with the sun being up and all." He snorted.

"Yes, well—alright." He said, a small grin on his face. "Let's be off." They quickly stowed their mats and Boromir broke off a bit of Lembas for them to share, then they were on the move again. They picked up the trail in no time at all, and Boromir was doing a better job of keeping on the trail so Laurel allowed her thoughts to drift. She thought of home, the tall trees that had been her companions, the animals she had looked after. She thought of all she had learned in her time and wondered if it would still be of use to her now. She thought of the Valar and the few conversations they had shared over the many years…

"Daphnaie!" She shouted suddenly, startling Boromir beside her. Lightning quick he pulled her behind him and shouted back.

"Where?" He scanned the horizon through narrowed eyes. "Where do you see them?..wait, what? What did you say?" he said turning to face her. "What are you talking about?"

"It's my name. I've only just remembered it." She smiled brightly at him, delighted to have recovered this small piece of her old life.

"Your name?.." He asked stunned. He seemed to be having some trouble reconciling that they were not in fact about to be attacked.

"Yes, yes my name!" She repeated. "It just came to me suddenly." Boromir just stared at her. She pulled him along, and they started back on the trail again. The movement seemed to help him gather his wits about him.

"Daphnaie you say? That's… nice." His fierce expression softened to a thoughtful grin.

"Nice?" Daphnaie asked.

"Yes, nice. It is a nice name. Pretty." He seemed satisfied with that description. Daphnaie was less so.

"Oh, why thank you. You flatter me greatly." She said. Her tone was clearly sarcastic but her playful smile took the edge off. Boromir smiled back at her.

"Oh for pity's sake, what now?"

"No no, please no more. You'll make me blush." He laughed loudly now.

"What? It is just your name. What would you have me say?"

"Just tell me what you think of it." She replied, a little more seriously. Boromir thought for a moment

" Okay. I find it a little odd. It sounds a bit strange to my ears. Not bad, just strange," he added noticing her less-than-happy expression. I do not know that I have ever met anyone with such a name." Daphnaie remained silent for a moment before bursting out.

"Well you are one to talk!" Her outburst did not appear to offend him.

"And just what do you mean by that?" he asked calmly.

" Boromir," she said, screwing her face up into a disgusted look, "is hardly a normal name." Again, rather than be offended, Boromir just looked amused.

"I'll have you know that Boromir is a perfectly normal Gondorian name. In fact it is a noble name, given to me by my father in tribute to Gondor's eleventh steward, Boromir. He was a brilliant warrior and leader. He did great things, very great things, for my people." Boromir turned serious. "I am honored to share his name." Dahnaie considered that for a moment. It was strange seeing him so thoughtful. Yesterday she hardly thought him capable of thinking! She would have to ask him more about his lineage—later though, for now she could hardly give him the satisfaction of acknowledging the nobility of his name.

"Whatever you say, my lord Boring-mir." Boromir instantly lost his thoughtful expression.

"Ha! What did you call me?"

"I am not sure what you are referring to, my lord." He rolled his eyes, opting not to respond to that, and looked towards the horizon again. They walked on in comfortable silence for a while. As the day went on, their conversations remained civil. Boromir told Daphnaie of Gondor and of his many days spent defending his land on the battle field. Daphnaie in turn shared stories of her times in the forest—animals she'd cared for, stories she'd heard from travels. Daphnaie felt she might just be warming up to Boromir.

The next few days passed by in much the same way. It was now five days since Boromir's death and after all that time devoted to searching for the trio and the hobbits they did not find any indication that they were catching up. Still, with no other apparent options they continued on. Discouragement festered in Daphnaie's heart. She needed to figure something else out. This chase was getting them nowhere. Suddenly she was pushed from the side and fell roughly to the ground narrowly missing a large rock they had been walking past. She landed heavily on her shoulder. A sharp pain shot down her arm. She looked up angrily to see Boromir crouched down at her side. "What are you do—" Boromir dropped his hand to cover her mouth, silencing her.

"Shh! Look, there." He whispered indicating for her to look in the direction they'd been headed. She sat up slowly and peered over the top of the rock. She spotted them instantly, two figures in the distance. They were headed in her and Boromir's general direction but not straight for them, so she concluded that Boromir had spotted the pair before the strangers had noticed them. Good thing too, for even from this distance she could tell that they were not the sort of characters she would particularly like to stop and chat with. Their walk was a sort of crouching, laboring gait, and each was carrying something.

Weapons she realized with dread. As they moved closer she could start to make out what they looked like. As soon as she could see them clearly, she gasped and hid behind the boulder again. It was more of those monsters, smaller than the ones from before but just as hideous and just as terrifying. She looked over at Boromir for some assurance. His hand was clasped around the hilt of his sword, slowly removing it from its sheath, and was he…? Yes. She could not believe it. He was smiling. Did he actually want to fight? Unbelievable. Hadn't the man died less than a week ago? Had he already forgotten how fragile he truly was? Daphnaie didn't know whether to be impressed by his bravery or irritated by his foolishness. Clearly death did not carry the same demons for him as it did for her

She risked a quick glance over the top once more. The beasts were almost on top of them now! Boromir grabbed her arm and pulled her close, looking her right in the eyes.

"Stay down," he commanded. She just nodded, too scared to speak. He jumped up then and sprinted towards the beasts. They were too surprised to act quickly enough. Before they had raised their weapons, Boromir sliced the head off the first one, a gruesome sight. That had given the second one time to brandish his weapon, but he was still no match for Boromir. After beating down his feeble attempts to defend himself, Boromir thrust his sword through the beast's chest. He fell to the ground in a heap but remained conscious a few moments longer. "Filthy Orc," she heard Boromir mutter.

Boromir knelt down beside the creature and grabbed the collar of its shirt, if you could call it a shirt. It was more like scraps of cloth hastily sewn together. "Were you among those who captured the hobbits?" Boromir demanded. "What has happened to them? Tell me!" A horrible gurgling noise came from the orc then. Blood dripped down the side of its mouth. And it was laughing.

"So it's the haflings you're after eh? Don't imagine you'll be findin' them to soon, hehe." Boromir looked furious.

"Why not? What's happened to them?" The orc smiled a horrible fang-toothed smile.

"The horsemen caught up with us last night. They don't leave nothin' alive." The orc started to laugh again then, but the laughs mixed with great racking coughs and soon the beast silenced. Boromir tossed his corpse aside, then let loose a pain filled scream. Daphnaie got up from behind the rock and walked to him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Don't listen to it Boromir. Creatures like that are only capable of falsehoods and trickery. Don't lose hope. Please." She hated to see him reduced to this. Anything was better than seeing him in pain. He sighed and bowed his head, placing his hand atop hers.

"Perhaps you are right. Either way, there is no point continuing down our current course."

"So you are just going to give up?" She accused, pulling her hand away in disgust.

"No! No, but whether or not the orc was right about the fate of the hobbits I do believe his account of the horse lords. Why else would he abandon his company if not to escape a slaughter? And if the rider's of Rohan did attack, they might have recovered the hobbits. I only see two possibilities. Either the hobbits are truly dead," his expression turned pained at that, " or the riders have taken them." Neither possibility particularly pleased Daphnaie.

"Where do we go from here then?" she asked, truly curious. Boromir's expression hardened.

"To Edoras."

A/N: Ok that's it! I was trying to build Boromir and Daphnaie's relationship a little more, just so it didn't feel like they were total strangers anymore, and I wanted to kind of get the ball rolling, plot wise. What did you think of it?