A/N: There is a bit of elvish in this chapter, but it is taken direct from the movie and not my own source. I have added the translations at the bottom of the chapter, as usual :)

Chapter 8

For a few infinite moments, Boromir was lost in overwhelming relief. Melody was alive. Badly beaten and slightly delirious, but alive. He held on to her as if she were a dream, a vision that would flicker and fade if he let her go. But slowly reality began to creep into his consciousness. He became aware of where they were and Saruman's final words echoed back to him out of his memory.

If she's still alive by morning, finish her…

How close was it to sunrise now? Could they make it across the expanse of Isengard without notice? Could she even walk?

"Melody, we must leave this place," he whispered gently, "Can you stand?"

She sniffed and nodded into his shoulder. Boromir got to his feet and held out a hand for her. She took it and he became suddenly and painfully aware of how small and helpless she looked. The right side of her face was swollen and bruised, and the left was caked in dried blood from a nasty gash at her hairline. Boromir gritted his teeth and forced away his building fury. He kept a hand on her elbow as she steadied herself, and for a moment she seemed well enough. But then she tried to take a step. Boromir saw her sway and caught her before she fell. She tried to push herself upright again, but her efforts were feeble and useless. She couldn't walk. He should have known that,fool that he was. He would have to carry her. In one smooth motion, he put an arm around her and swept her legs out from under her. She struggled against him weakly for a moment, pushing at his chest and rasping almost incomprehensibly.

"No, no, I'm okay, I'm okay, put me down, I can do it…"

"Melody, you can barely stand," He whispered, "Let me help you."

"No, you're going to take me away," She said, her protests growing a bit louder and slightly more frantic, "I can't, I can't go without it, I have to get it back…"

She was falling into delirium again. He could feel the heat coming from her body. She was raging with fever and that made him angry all over again. He fought down his emotions and turned to carry her out of the room, but she was still ranting.

"No, please, wait! We can't just leave it with him! What if he figures it out? Or destroys it! Boromir, stop!"

She hit his arm with a surprising amount of strength. He paused and looked down at her tear streaked face. What could be so desperately important?

"Please, we have to get it back." She pleaded brokenly.

"What, Melody? What do we have to get back?"

She grimaced, and then slowly held up her trembling hand so he could see. He hadn't noticed before, so caught up in the relief of finding her alive, but he could see now, even in the dim light, that something was terribly wrong. Her hand was red and swollen, and the ring finger was covered in angry blisters all down its length. She cradled the burned hand against her chest and tears made slow, dirty tracks down her cheeks, dripping from her chin onto the burns.

"He took it from me," she whispered, her voice surprisingly steady, "He took the Yavannacor. And I couldn't stop him."

She looked back up at him her eyes bright and a little wild.

"Please," she begged, gripping his tunic with her burned hand, heedless of the pain it must be causing her, "Please, we have to get it back."

Boromir was seething. He was finding it difficult to even draw breath. He gripped her tightly, his arms shaking with the desire to run and do exactly as she asked. How could that… monster… cause such pain and still be living? It was unthinkable! But a voice that sounded strangely like his brother's whispered soothingly in his mind.

You can't possibly expect to confront a wizard alone and live to tell about it. No matter how important this is to her or to you, it isn't as important as keeping Melody alive. Remember why you came here, Boromir. Do you want it all to be for nothing? If you are dead, who will take Melody away from this horrible place? Who will save her?

He looked down into those pleading eyes and he knew that the eyes were far more important to him than the thing that they pleaded for. He took a deep, shuddering breath.

"I'm sorry, Melody," He whispered.

She jerked and her eyes widened into a horrified stare, her mouth slightly agape.

"I am only one man," he said, "I cannot hope to defeat a wizard and his army, and rescue you from this pit also."

The admission was painful to him. He wanted desperately to be the hero of this tale, to do anything that she asked of him, to banish that look of horror and disappointment from her eyes. It became even more painful with her next words.

"But, you're Boromir!" she exclaimed hoarsely, "You've defeated armies practically single-handedly! You…"

She choked and the torrent of words stopped for a moment as she caught her breath again, still staring at him. Then suddenly, her eyes narrowed suspiciously and she pulled away from him slightly, her eyes traveling his face.

"Who are you?" she asked, her words sharp and biting, "Where's Boromir?"

The question cut him more deeply than he would have expected. He stared back at her, his mouth opening and then closing again as he desperately tried to find words.

"Where is he?!" she shouted, shaking him by the fistful of tunic that she still clasped, "What did you do to him?!"

Boromir was shocked into a stuttering reply

"Melody I… Please, I am Boromir…"

But she shook her head, dropping her eyes, her hand still gripping weakly at his tunic.

"No, no you can't be, not my Boromir, my Boromir would save me…"

"Melody, I am here to save you…"

"My Boromir would save me, save all of me, where is he, what did you do to him…?"

She looked up, searching his face again.

"He's dead, isn't he?" she whispered, her voice steady again, "He's dead and you killed him… killed him and took his face…"

The broken, hopeless words struck Boromir speechless. She was delirious. Some part of his mind had supplied that to him a while ago, but even with that knowledge her words still cut him, ripped him open and left him helpless. She was staring at him like he was some sort of creature that she didn't recognize.

When he didn't answer, she dropped her head and pressed her face into his tunic, gasping out words through little sobs.

"I knew it, I knew he was dead, he's dead and you killed him, killed him and took his face, please just let me go, let me die, he's dead, he's dead, you killed him, he's dead, my Boromir is dead and you took his face…"

The words spiraled until they were barely more than incoherent babblings, but each one pierced him like a knife. The gentle voice of his brother came back, whispering in his mind, telling him that there wasn't much time, the sun would be rising, they had to traverse the courtyard still, Melody was feverish and delirious, she didn't mean what she was saying, wouldn't even remember it once she was well again, he just had to get her away from this place…

It took several moments, but Boromir finally managed to take a step, the first of many steps that led through the maze of corridors. But even with the thoughts in his mind urging him on, he did not feel comforted. He was gnawed by doubt and helplessness. She had done so much for him, and now… Was there really so little he could do in return? Had he always been so afraid? Or was that Boromir, the one that had met Melody on the road to Rivendell, that had traversed perils beyond counting to reach the hidden valley, was that Boromir indeed dead? And if he was, then who was he now?

As he walked, Melody's soft murmurings finally quieted and he gradually felt her go limp in his arms. When he reached the top of the last staircase, he risked a glance at her. She was asleep, her face finally relaxed, though not peaceful. A frown still furrowed her brow.

Boromir pulled up his hood and wrapped his cloak around them, praying to whoever might be watching that it would be enough, and slipped into the blackness of the night outside.

Legolas followed Aragorn into the dark, damp of Fangorn Forest, feeling the air close in around them as the tangled tree limbs blotted out the brilliant blue of the morning sky. Knowing that the hobbits had wandered into this place was almost as terrible as thinking that they were dead. His eyes darted to and fro amongst the shadows, waiting for the malice he felt to materialize.

He jumped when Gimli spit.

"Orc blood," the dwarf growled.

Aragorn knelt in the moist earth and ran his hands along the ground, "These are strange tracks."

"The air is so close here," Gimli muttered.

"This forest is old," Legolas explained, "Very old. Full of memory… and anger!"

All three of them turned as the trees groaned and creaked around them. Legolas grinned.

"The trees are speaking to each other!" He exclaimed, "Oh to think if Mel had come here!"

Legolas could picture her face as if she were standing before him, the far away glow as she spoke with these trees and her smile as they answered her. If only she were here, she should be here…

"Gimli!" Aragorn whispered, pulling Legolas' mind back to the present, "Lower your axe!"

Slowly, Gimli lowered his axe, glancing around nervously.

"Wouldn't you know that when we actually need the useless girl, she's nowhere to be found!"

The tree closest to Gimli started to tremble and the dwarf jumped, skittering away. Legolas smirked, but only a little bit.

"Be careful what you say, my friend. They have feelings, just as Mel told us." His eyes wandered the forest, "I was always told the elves began it: waking up the trees, teaching them to speak. But now, I wonder…"

Gimli huffed, "I just don't understand it. What do trees have to talk about? Except the consistency of squirrel droppings!"

But Legolas was no longer listening to the dwarf's mindless muttering. Something had caught his ears, and his eyes followed the sound deep into the dim forest, not so unlike his home.

"Aragorn, nad no ennas!" He called as he darted further into the trees, trying not to lose sight of the thing that had caught his attention. What was it? What could possibly…?

He skidded to a stop as the power swelled over him, the power emanating from whoever… whatever he was following.

Aragorn whispered in his ear, "Man cenich?"

Legolas' eyes darted to the right.

"The White Wizard approaches." He murmured.

He heard Aragorn sigh and Legolas nocked an arrow to the string of his bow.

"Do not let him speak, he will put a spell on us," Aragorn whispered, "We must be quick."

Legolas closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

Mel…

The three moved as one, whirling to face the wizard. But the brilliant light of the mid-morning sun burst through the trees and blinded them all, leaving them helpless. Legolas loosed his arrow anyway, knowing he had the best chance of the three. But the wizard swatted it away like no more than a passing mosquito. Gimli gave a war whoop and flung his axe through the air, but it was also turned aside with a resounding clang. Aragorn cried out and Legolas turned just as the Ranger dropped his red-hot blade.

The wizard spoke.

"You are tracking the footsteps of two young hobbits."

The voice was enchanted, Legolas could hear it. But it didn't sound harmful. It was more like… a disguise? But it was the voice of Saruman, the fell voice from the mountain of Caradhras. He would never forget the sound of that voice shouting curses at them from afar. He felt a deep anger building inside him.

"Where are they?" Aragorn cried.

"They passed this way, the day before yesterday."

He was so calm, so cool, and it did nothing but fuel the fire burning in Legolas' chest. He was destroying Middle-Earth, in league with Sauron the Deceiver! And he had taken Mel! He had her, locked away somewhere, torturing her, hurting her!

"They met someone they did not expect. Does that comfort you?"

"Nothing you say could comfort me, you hideous, lying snake!" Legolas hissed, his anger finally bubbling over, "Where are the hobbits? Where is Mel? What have you done with her?!"

He lunged toward the light, fury blinding reason, searching out any way to get his hands on the figure that had caused so much hurt. But of course it was a useless effort. The wizard's staff blocked his advance and shoved him away as easily as a child's toy. He slammed back into the dirt and lay there for a moment. That blow could have knocked him clear of the forest entirely. The power had been there. But the wizard hadn't used it. Why?

"Who are you?" Aragorn asked, "Show yourself!"

Legolas sat up, just as the light that had hidden the wizard dimmed. He stepped forward, like a vision out of a long forgotten dream.

"It cannot be!" Aragorn gasped.

The face smiling down on them, was Gandalf's.

Legolas scrambled up and bowed before him, ashamed.

"Forgive me," he whispered, "I mistook you for Saruman."

"And attacked me anyway," Gandalf said, his voice now fully his own and equal parts surprised and amused, "Love does cloud all judgment it seems, even the judgment of elves."

Legolas felt his heart skip a beat. He kept his eyes firmly on the ground, stunned. He felt the sting of the words as they injured his pride and forced him to look inside himself. Love was a strong word and not thrown about by men of power lightly. It was not even a word that he threw about lightly.

"But there is nothing to forgive!" Gandalf said cheerfully, "For I am Saruman. Or rather Saruman as he should have been. Rise, Legolas, son of Thranduil! It is not right that an elven-prince should kneel for so long."

Slowly, Legolas rose to his feet, his eyes still fixed on the ground before him, his mind still whirling. Gandalf did not seem to notice.

"Come now, all of you!" he said, wrapping himself up in an old gray cloak, effectively concealing the robes that now proclaimed his status as the White Wizard, "There is much still to be done!"

Gandalf took off into the forest at a brisk pace, leaving the Three Hunters to dazedly follow after.

"One stage of your journey is over, another begins," he said, "War has come to Rohan. We must ride to Edoras with all speed."

"Edoras?" Gimli and Legolas exclaimed at the same time. They exchanged a glance and Gimli smirked, but Legolas could not bring himself to return the gesture of good humor. Edoras was not the direction he had been hoping to take.

"We hear of trouble in Rohan," Aragorn said, "It goes ill with the king."

"Yes," Gandalf replied, "And it will not be easily cured."

"Then we have run all this way for nothing?" Gimli asked, "Are we to leave those poor hobbits here in this horrid, dark, dank, tree-infested…"

A tree rumbled close by and Gimli jumped.

"I mean… charming! Quite charming forest!"

"It was more than mere chance that brought Merry and Pippin to Fangorn." Gandalf said, "A great power has been sleeping here for many long years. The coming of Merry and Pippin will be like the falling of small stones that starts an avalanche in the mountains."

"And Mel?" Legolas asked, unable to stay silent any longer, "Are we to abandon her to the devices of Saruman? Perhaps I should go…"

"No!" Gandalf snapped, whirling on the elf, eyes flashing, "You are needed elsewhere, Legolas Thranduilion! And if you are wise you will leave your feelings in this forest and never think on them again. Melody is in the hands of the Valar now. What they choose to do with her is not your concern!"

Legolas was taken aback at the sharpness of the wizard's voice. He took a step back, but he couldn't completely wipe the anger from his face. Gandalf's eyes seemed to soften a bit and he sighed, placing a hand on the elf's shoulder.

"Forgive me, Legolas. I speak this way only to help you accept that which you cannot change. You will need a clear head in the days to come. And Melody would not want you to sacrifice yourself or the safety of Middle-Earth for her. Remember that."

Gandalf's eyes wandered to the forest around them, his expression almost mischievous.

"Besides, as it is she will be witness to a thing that has not happened since the Elder Days, something that will change the course of her life forever. The Ents are going to wake up and find that they are strong."

"Strong?" Gimli muttered, "Oh… that's good."

Gandalf's attention was brought back to the dwarf and he smiled.

"Oh, stop your fretting Master Dwarf!" He exclaimed as he plunged back into the forest, the others following, "Mel is precisely where she should be, and Merry and Pippin are quite safe. In fact, they are far safer than you are about to be!"

Legolas followed after the others, but his mind was elsewhere. What things was Gandalf talking about, the things he could not change? There were many things he wished that he could change, but none of them seemed like impossibilities. After all, with hope were not all things possible? He would have to comfort himself with that fact until the wizard's riddles were revealed. And he hoped that he would have the strength to accept the things that he could not change if such things ever became clear to him. Until such time, he would keep a clear head and be where he was needed. And pray that Mel was safe. For nothing else seemed as important to him as that.

Elvish Translations:

(taken directly from the movie, Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers)

nad no ennas!- Something is out there!

Man cenich?- What do you see?