A/N: Here's Chapter 3. Just a warning, you may need tissues at the end... Well probably not, cause I'm not that good an author, but you get the jist!
Chapter 3
Stone Monuments
"What you leave behind is not what is engraved in stone monuments, but what is woven into the lives of others." – Pericles
Frodo sighed as he walked over the stony ground; sharp rocks trying to pierce his feet but his Hobbit feet were thickly soled and so the rocks did little apart from niggle uncomfortably. Since he and Same had separated from the Fellowship the two Hobbits hadn't gotten very far. Sam had almost drowned and Frodo had almost fallen down a cliff to his death.
Luckily the ground hadn't been far away at all and the dark-haired Hobbit had landed safely much to his and Sam's relief. But then again it hadn't been all bad. They had discovered how surprisingly versatile and magical elven rope truly was. And Frodo had been reminded of home and the reason they had set out on their journey; to save the Shire. That small box of salt had been so very familiar and truly magnificent despite its small size and tiny contents.
Frodo could hear Sam huffing and puffing behind him, pots, pans, ladles and various kitchen utensils clinking on his rucksack as the more rotund Hobbit heaved himself over a rather large rock. Night had begun to fall and despite the mist that engulfed the rocks Frodo could feel the temperature dropping. The ground levelled out and there was smallish circle of rocks nearby. Stopping and peering around the circle of rocks Frodo decided it was time to call it a day.
"We'll stop here for the night Sam." Frodo called and began to shrug off his pack. There was a bitter wind rushing through the craggy stones, whistling through paper thin gaps and crying as it wailed down the valley.
So far Frodo's impressions of Emyn Muil were that the Hobbit would far rather be tucked up in Bag End with a cheery fire roaring happily in the fireplace, a steaming hot mug of cocoa at his side and a good book in his hands. In this pleasant daydream Frodo noticed that all his friends had managed to fit into his Hobbit hole; Merry, Pippin and Gimli were sat in the dining room, eating and drinking noisily (after all it wouldn't be the first time a Dwarf had eaten in Bag End but one Dwarf was far more manageable than twelve).
Sam was bustling around the kitchen checking on a pie and some bread in the oven and stirring pans of vegetables and soup on the stove, a happy smile on his face.
Legolas and Aragorn were there too, sat in the kitchen watching Sam potter around and both Man and Elf looked relaxed and at ease sharing a bottle of old wine that had been waiting for a special occasion. Gandalf was even there, sitting opposite Frodo smoking away on his pipe and Frodo could imagine a grey smoke ship sailing into Boromir's face and the Gondorain spluttering and then bursting into laughter.
Boromir's laughter even woke Ammy up. The Ame-no-Mihashira had been curled up on the soft rug in front of the fire place dressed in respectable clothes for once but her tigress tail had been curled around her form and her ears had been twitching on her head. At the Gondorian's laughter the silver haired woman had unfurled and sat upon her knees, pink eyes looking round at her friends until she finally looked at Frodo with soft eyes and a warm smile. Laying her head on the side of Frodo's chair the Hobbit carded his fingers through the silken strands on the top of her head and occasionally rubbing her tiger ear. Ammy's tail flicked languidly as she enjoyed the warmth and attention and Frodo felt his heart swell with familial love.
"Mr Frodo! Are you alright? Mr Frodo?!" Sam's worried shout drew Frodo from his daydreaming and he looked into the worried ruddy face of his loyal gardener who had followed him all this way.
"I'm sorry Sam. I was thinking of Bag End and our friends. I hope they escaped from the orcs…"
Sam brought out some lambas from his pack after rummaging around for several seconds. The icy cold wind had chilled his hands and so he had trouble gripping onto anything very well. Opening the packet that contained the elf-bread Sam tore off two pieces and handed one to Frodo. Sam bit into his piece and quickly wrapped the remaining bread back into the strange leaf packet it had come in he returned it to his pack.
After taking a bite, chewing and pondering Sam began to speak his voice cheery and comforting and Frodo couldn't help but be reassured.
"Now Mr Frodo, I reckon everyone'll be totally fine. Strider has proved his strength to us many a time and we both know Legolas and Gimli have a rivalry going on that they won't allow a few measly orcs to get in their way. I rather think Gimli will begin keeping count, just so as he can prove Dwarfs better than elves."
Frodo chuckled and continued eating his lambas. Sam could see that the blue-eyed Hobbit was already feeling more optimistic.
"Merry and Pippin for all their mischief are actually pretty sneaky and clever at times, they've managed to steal Farmer Maggot's largest pumpkin six years in a row and the old Farmer still don't know who lifted it."
This time Frodo let out a proper laugh, loud and full as both Hobbits remembered seeing Farmer Maggot tramping along the edge of his fields pitchfork in his hands and his expression switching between dismayed and angry. Pippin and Merry had strolled into the Autumn Festival, covered in mud with leaves, twigs and various pieces of foliage sticking out of their hair, but both were proudly trundling forward a man-sized wheelbarrow with a pumpkin the size of a Hobbit in its barrow.
Their laughter at recalling the Autumn Festival which had happened all those months ago soon faded and left them alone in the darkness and jagged rocks. Swallowing Sam bravely continued on.
"Boromir for all that he has been driven mad by the Ring is honourable and wouldn't abandon his comrades. He is strong and full of fire. He will be safe." Sam finished his lambas and licked his fingers in case of any crumbs.
Looking up he saw that Frodo had barely eaten any of his elf bread. Fiddling with it between his fingers Frodo stared at the bread as if he did not quite know what to do with it.
"And what do you suppose has become of Ammy? She was supposed to aid us on our quest but now our paths are separated. I fear our world may become too strange for her." Frodo's voice was low and worried as if he feared being overheard although they knew the only thing or person following them was Gollum.
"Lady Amaterasu would not allow harm to befall any of our companions. She is courageous and strong. If orcs bothered her all she would have to do is transform into her dragon and then bat them away with one claw. If anything Master Frodo I'd feel sorry for the orcs that cross the white Lady's path!"
"You're right Sam. I just worry for Ammy as this is all so new to her, more so than it is for us. Our world and her world are completely different." Frodo bit into his lembas and Sam held back a sigh of relief at seeing Frodo eating.
"We will make a plan to catch Gollum. We can't let him follow us Sam or he'll kill us both and take the Ring." Frodo finished his food and lay down, wrapping his cloak around him. Sam followed suit but lay facing Frodo.
The two Hobbits whispered for several minutes until they had two plans, one which should work and a back-up in case Gollum was cleverer and stronger than expected.
Sam was to take first watch and so the light-brown haired Hobbit lay there facing the sky wishing he had a nice piece of roast chicken. Frodo turned onto his side and tried to fall asleep. Sleep took a long time coming and when it did Frodo dreamt restlessly of Ammy in the form of a horse with strange men that Frodo had never seen before. Men on horses with swords, spears, shields and axes. First they were journeying through wild and rugged lands, then through dark forests and then they were beset upon. Uruk-hai bearing a white hand on their helmets and shields. Men were slaughtered and for every orc they killed three more took their place.
The white mare was rearing, bucking, kicking, biting and trampling orcs defending a small group of men and then the last man was wounded and he toppled into the river. A dark brown horse jumped in after him as did Ammy.
Startled out of sleep by fear for Ammy Frodo was awake just in time to hear Gollum muttering to himself above them. Nudging Sam and receiving a nudge back in return. Time to put plan A into action…
5 hours earlier and hundreds of miles away Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli were running over the landscape of Rohan in hot pursuit of the Uruk-hai who had taken Merry and Pippin. They had caught up with the ragtag bunch that been chasing Ammy and the skirmish which had taken place was mere sport to the three Trackers.
Leaving one Uruk-hai almost alive Gimli had pulled information from the dying creature. They were taking the Hobbits to Isengard, these Uruk-hai of Saruman's had been instructed to capture the little people and take them to him alive and unspoiled. The Uruk-hai's fellows had taken the two little people they had found and were carrying them to the White Wizard where they would be tortured most cruelly until Saruman had what he wanted and then the Halfings were to be given to the Uruk-hai for sport or eating.
Growling Gimli had beheaded the Uruk as soon as they had all the information they needed. The red bearded Dwarf disliked orcs at the best of times and this situation of Boromir nearing death, Ammy and Ayaka missing and Merry and Pippin taken set the Dwarf's blood boiling.
The three of them had continued running across the land, their steps steady and swift for they had little time to waste and it seemed the Uruk-hai were running as if Death were at their heels.
"Some evil gives speed to these creatures." Legolas said when they paused for a ten minute rest. "I feel it in my soul, creeping over the land. There are two great evils trying to claim the world; one from the east and one from the north."
"Saruman must be desperate if he is forcing them to move so quickly. All sanity must have left the treacherous wizard." Aragorn muttered before drinking from his water skin. The sun was beating down fiercely and the Dunedain could feel sweat trickling down his forehead and neck. His undershirt was already soaked and he knew he was beginning to smell foul but there was no time for niceties.
"At this rate we'll never catch them." Gimli grumbled and then stood.
"We'll continue onwards, we have a few hours before dark and then our pace will slow because we will lack the light to navigate the land. But we will continue through the night and if they stop for the night then we can cover ground and make up the distance quickly and smoothly." Aragorn tied his water skin to his belt and began tracking the Uruk-hai once again.
The slowly sinking sun neared the crest of the land illuminating the mountains in the West and as it hit rocks that covered the land casting black shadows that stretched as if forever. The three males were tired and weary, their spirits low and their fears great.
Looking up at the darkening sky Legolas saw that they had maybe an hour before they would be moving through darkness. As he turned to look back at Aragorn his gaze was caught on the sight of a pure white fox standing in the middle of his path.
The elf turned to face the fox fully and waited to see if it would bolt. It didn't. Moving forward and drawing his bow with an arrow Legolas gestured for it to dash away. Again the fox merely stared at him.
"Aragorn. There is a strange white fox in our path." Legolas called back. The sound of the elf's voice and the thumping feet that sounded behind him didn't deter the fox either and it yawned and then sat down.
Peering closely at the white creature in the fading light Legolas could just about make out the colour of its eyes not the brown that foxes typically had nor even indeed amber or yellow but one river blue coloured orb and one grass coloured. This fox had mismatched human-like eyes.
"Could it be?" He spoke, voice soft and awed. Aragorn came to a halt beside him and stared at the fox too.
"It cannot be. Two in the space of mere months when none have been seen for thousands of years. That is not chance." Shock coloured his voice and he nearly trembled at the thought.
"What is it? What has gotten the two of you so worked up?" Gimli's voice was loud in the stillness of the land. "A mere vixen that has crossed your path has worked the two of you up into a tizzy. We shall simply walk past it and move on. Come, come you said we no time for distractions."
The Dwarf strode forward past the man and elf who were still stationary.
The vixen rose to all fours at Gimli's movement and then seemed to flicker as if she suddenly disappeared. Then where she had been stood was a snow white ferret with the same blue and green mismatched eyes. Another flicker and then a horse stood where the ferret was, a small strawberry mare around fourteen hands high. She flickered once more as if out of existence before a few white lights sparkled and then disappeared to reveal a tall woman, finely defined features and her snow-white hair was plaited and twisted up on her head in intricate coils circling her head, a coronet of fine silken strands. There seemed to be a blue tinge to her lips and a pale, sparkle from her skin like light off ice or freshly fallen snow.
Her clothing was simple, a plain light blue dress that fell to her ankles and had slits up the side to the middle of her thigh. Her cloak was an animal pelt that looked to be white wolf fur. She carried with her nothing but her clothes and a small dagger that was belted to her waist.
"Who are you?" Aragorn called out, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword ready to draw the blade if she proved herself an enemy.
Smiling at them in a reassuring manner the woman bowed low, presenting her neck and body in a vulnerable position demonstrating that she meant no harm to them.
"My name is Tangwen. I believe you are travelling with one of my kin? Rumours have travelled the land by way of the water, wind and animals." She rose up from her bow and peered around the three males looking for another.
"I see she is not with you. How disappointing." Tangwen made to turn and begin walking away but was halted by Legolas calling out to her.
"Amaterasu is not with us as you can see. We were separated when we were attacked by large orcs. Their armour is thicker and their hides tougher than orcs we have previously encountered. During the battle our Fellowship was separated. Two Hobbits, Shirelings were taken by these orcs and we are in pursuit of them. We have reason to believe that Lady Amaterasu is also in pursuit of our companions. Would you be able to tell us if she is near Lady Tangwen?"
Legolas kept his expression open and honest, lying was not in his character anyway but it seemed better to be as truthful as possible with an Ame-no-Mihashira. They seemed to draw the purer elements of one's character out.
"Legolas Thranduilion, I cannot tell you if Amaterasu is nearby. I can sense her presence in Rohan but other than that I have as much idea as you. I do know however that she has not travelled down from the north nor from the west. I have spent the past month travelling in Fangorn and have recently journeyed back into Rohan with news for my sister."
"You have a sister?" Gimli asked surprised. It seemed the plot was only just starting to be revealed.
"Yes Master Dwarf. My twin sister and I were able to escape the purge by Sauron and the traitor Tsukiyomi. Most of our brethren that were not slaughtered were sealed in the Sessho-seki or fled to hide. My sister and I took animal form and were thus able to escape death; others of our kin fled to the un-inhabited parts of Middle Earth and have not been seen since."
GImli grasped his axe firmly and growled slightly; he too knew all too well the pain and grief of not knowing if your people or relatives lived. The uncertainty of the party that had journeyed to Moria to never be heard from again plagued many of those still living in Erebor, particularly those from the original Company of Thorin Oakenshield.
"Forgive me, but how old are you Lady Tangwen?" said Aragorn. He avoided looking at her in case she found the question impertinent. Instead the woman began to laugh softly her blue and green eyes sparkling with mirth.
"I am 5000 years old, give or take a few decades." Tangwen continued to laugh at their gobsmacked expressions she knew that Legolas was not as old as her, the elf having not been born until after the Fall of Sauron and Isildur took the Ring.
"May I say Lady you do not look a day over twenty?" Gimli grumbled out, the skin on his face that could be seen blushing a deep red. The dwarf had admired Lady Galadriel's beauty and golden locks and indeed Tangwen was nearly as fair; her sharp features were softened by a small smile and gentle eyes. There would however only ever be one female for Gimli and none could compare to Lady of Lorien.
Aragorn looked around the area and found the tracks of the Uruk-hai once more. Tilting his head to Legolas the Ranger set off after the tracks, a brief nod to Tangwen as he went by.
"Lady Tangwen, we have little time to talk of history nor indeed of recent events as we fear greatly for our companions safety. We would however be honoured if you would join us and we can speak more of this and possibly find Lady Amaterasu after we have rescued our Hobbits." Legolas bowed down to the Ame-no-Mihashira and saw out of the corner of his eye that Gimli was doing the same. The elf resisted the urge to smile; his Dwarf companion certainly seemed to be attracted to tall woman, it really was a shame that there weren't any tall Dwarfs, but then again they would not be Dwarfs if they were tall…
"I would be honoured to join you and lend any assistance if I can. Would you mind however, if I returned to an animal form? I have spent several thousand years' predominantly in animal bodies and have little cause to travel in my human like form." Tangwen smiled sheepishly and then waited almost anxiously for their reply.
"Not at all Lady Tangwen. Whichever form is best suited for long pursuit would be best." Legolas replied and then he and Gimli watched in awe as the white lights sparkled and there was burst of freezing cold air from her direction and then the white vixen they had first encountered was sat once again in their path.
Aragorn had covered quite a lot of ground by this time and as the sun set it was only due to Legolas' elf eyes that the three were able to catch up to the Ranger.
"No time to waste!" Gimli puffed and trotted along steadily, Tangwen scampering along at the same pace. "We have Hobbits to rescue!"
Menewa panted softly as he and Kajika raced across the Pellenor fields. It had taken them an entire afternoon and day but the city of Minas Tirith was finally in sight. The Kiyiya had stopped them only a few times to rest and recover their strength. Whilst the two Ithil Draug wolves rested the dark-skinned woman had used the time to change and check Boromir's wounds, occasionally changing the bandages completely.
One of the arrow wounds was particularly bad and an infection had already sunk deep into the Man's flesh, orc arrows were never clean and the dirt and grime on them could easily kill a beast let alone a human receiving medical treatment. On their last rest Kiyiya had found some clean moss and packed it into the wound hoping to absorb some of the blood and try and clot the wound, at the speed they had been travelling Boromir would have died of blood loss before they reached the edge of Gondor.
Kiyiya grasped her spear tightly in her hand, prepared for any unwelcome signs at Gondor and fisted her other hand into Menewa's fur. Menewa had been carrying Boromir for most of the previous day and so Kajika had taken the boat containing the injured Man and Kiyiya was now safely seated on her brother's back.
They slowed to a trot as they came to the gates of Minas Tirith.
"Who goes there?" The guardsman called down to Kiyiya and she swallowed nervously before replying.
"I am Kiyiya, Wolf Princess and Princess of the Ithil Draug Tylwythau Pack. I am from Erebor as are the two wolves. We bring you Boromir son of Denethor who has been gravely wounded in battle. You must give us entry to the city so that the Captain of Gondor may speak with his father."
Kiyiya kept her voice firm but polite not allowing a hint of her anxiety to seep in. Human cities did not suit the Wolf Princess or her pack. The Dwarf mountain of Erebor was a completely different matter as the ceilings in the mountain were high and she had often lived in mountain caves and the like as a young pup.
But human cities and towns made Kiyiya and her brother and sister nervous. Too many Men crowded in one place and they were never particularly pleasant to the giant wolves nor indeed to Kiyiya. They feared the Wolf Princess and her scars and the giant lupines were intimidating to most people.
The large metal studded doors to the citadel were slowly swung open and the four slowly paced in, Menewa going ahead of Kajika in case the welcome was not as warm as they hoped. Luckily there were only a few guardsman milling around in the square their hands on their weapons but there were no blades drawn nor spears pointed towards the wolves or Kiyiya.
"My city." Boromir whispered as his eyes sought out the white stone of his home, the sun making it seem even whiter than before.
"You! Guardsman!" Kiyiya pointed to an armoured soldier who stood fidgeting nervously in front of Menewa's muzzle. "Where will I find Denethor?"
"Up at the top of the Citadel, lady. He is seated in the throne room." The guard swallowed nervously before replying and both wolves and Kiyiya could smell his fear.
"If I follow the road will I reach the Throne room?" Kiyiya's voice was brusque and the guardsman was almost as terrified of the scarred female as he was of the giant wolves.
"Yes my Lady. The road ahead winds up to the White Tower. That is where Lord Denethor will be."
Nodding briefly in thanks Kiyiya leaned down over Menewa's shoulder and whispered to her brother. Pulling his lips back in a wolf grin the wolf tipped his head back and let out a piercing howl that sent Kajika into fierce growling.
The female wolf could not howl also or she would have dropped Boromir who was swinging gently in his stretcher-boat but she fidgeted on her paws and her growls rumbled through the ground and into the surrounding houses.
People shrieked and looked around searching for the echoing howl which ran up through the city and could be heard by Denethor who sat in the Steward's chair. The Steward leapt to his feet as did his simpering advisors and the dark-haired man raged as he demanded to know what was making the unearthly noise.
Menewa finished the long howl on a high note and then allowed his tongue to flop out of his mouth in a happy grin.
Boromir chuckled as he could see the male wolf felt rather pleased with himself but was forced to stop as blood bubbled up his throat and out of his mouth causing him to cough violently. Kiyiya looked down on the Captain anxiously and winced as she saw the blood.
"Menewa, Kajika move!" She snarled and both wolves sprang into action, Menewa thundering ahead of Kajika to clear the path way. Kajika tried to keep her steps as smooth as possible as she galloped through the thin winding street. Humans scattered at the rumbles that sounded ahead of the wolves and left a clear path.
Children gasped and tugged on their mother's skirts as they saw the two giant wolves running through their city and the streaming black curly locks of the woman who rode on the wolves.
In mere minutes they had reached the courtyard with the White Tree and whilst Menewa was still running Kiyiya leapt from his back and rolled into the fall, came out of it and continued running. Gesturing to the guards protecting the entrance to the throne room Kiyiya called the men over and more came pouring out of the doorways. Kajika slowly began to lower the elvish boat which was steadied as the soldiers braced the vessel.
Boromir's descent to the ground was smooth and virtually knock free and then the guardsman stepped away to allow Kiyiya to remove the rope from the she-wolf's mouth. In the precious seconds it had taken for the wolf and men to lower Boromir a soldier had found Denethor and as Kiyiya knelt by Boromir's side her hand pressing down on the fiercely bleeding wound she heard a great howl come from behind her and then a hand knocked her away from Boromir.
The small female was sent flying and hit her head on the white marble ground. Propping herself up Kiyiya shook her head dazed and was just in time to see Menewa and Kajika about to lunge at the man kneeling next to the boat.
"Stop!" Kiyiya called and the surrounding soldiers gaped as the wolves subsided until the only sign of their discontent was rumbling growls that didn't cease.
"Lord Denethor." Kiyiya knelt beside Boromir once again and pressed her bloody hands back against the wound. "Your son is grievously wounded. He does not have long left in this world."
The Steward looked up at the scarred woman his eyes barely registering her before he turned back to Boromir, clasping his son's hand between his.
"Boromir?" Denethor called softly and rubbed at the weathered palm between his. Boromir's eyes flickered open and he looked around for his father.
"Father. I am sorry." Boromir coughed out, his breath's quick and harsh.
"No my son, you have done well. A true Captain of Gondor." Denethor smiled down kindly at his son, ignorant of the tears travelling down swiftly over his aged cheeks.
"The Ring. Father, you cannot allow it into the City. It whispers to you, invades your thoughts until you cannot leave it be. It turned me against my companions and I nearly did one who was defenceless harm. If it reaches the city you must not allow it into Minas Tirith. Promise me father!" Boromir's voice rose desperately.
"Shh, I will not allow it into our city. You should rest Boromir. You need to get better." Denethor smiled and stroked his son's sweaty forehead with his hand.
There was more noise from behind Denethor and Kiyiya and the wolves bristled as a younger man with shoulder length golden-brown hair shoved his way through.
"Boromir?" the newcomer's voice was hesitant.
Boromir twisted in the boat trying to see the newcomer and Kiyiya cursed as more blood spurted from the wound. The Captain of Gondor's face was becoming more pale as blood flowed from him.
"Hurry up and get over here whoever you are!" Kiyiya snapped as she applied more pressure to the wound.
Faramir stumbled forward and fell into a kneel on the other side and took Boromir's other hand.
"Hello little brother." Boromir smiled weakly and then began coughing. Denethor continued to stroke his son's forehead and Faramir held on tightly to his brother's hand.
"Off on patrol?" Boromir asked and Faramir nodded his head, the younger man stunned into silence at the sight of his always strong and fearless brother unable to lift his head.
"You will be fine little brother. Just remember to take your sword and not your books!" Boromir teased and Faramir felt his eyes well up with tears as he nodded.
"I will slay all the dragons Boromir." He whispered and then closed his eyes as the tears began to fall in earnest. Boromir turned his gaze back to Denethor who was still smiling nervously down at his son.
"Father, be kinder to Faramir. He only ever tries to please you." Before he could carry on Boromir was wracked with fierce coughing, blood sputtering from his lips and a few droplets hit Denethor's face.
"Don't you dare give up!" Kiyiya hissed. "You haven't finished yet Boromir."
The woman applied more pressure to the wound, ignoring the blood streaming over her hands. But alas her efforts were in vain. Boromir's gaze fell from his father until it landed on the White Tree. The Captain's eyes were no longer sharp and clear but glazed and Kiyiya watched his lips move as he stared at the tree.
A whispered breath rang through the reverent and sorrwoful stillness of the courtyard:
"I would have followed you, my brother; my captain; my king. (J.R.R. Tolkien)" Boromir's breath eased out over his lips and his chest finally stilled.
"No." Denethor said dully and he continued stroking Boromir's forehead. "No. No. No..."
Kiyiya sat back on her haunches, relieving the pressure on the wound. Her movement signalled to all gathered that Boromir son of Denethor, Captain of Gondor had passed on from this world and the soldiers, advisors and citizens gathered in the courtyard bowed their heads in mourning.
Menewa and Kajika sat back and tipped their heads skyward to the night sky and let out long, low mournful howls as they respected the passing of Boromir. The sound rang off the cliff, down the streets, across the plains and all those in Minas Tirith and in Osgiliath heard the plaintive cry and knew deep down in their hearts that a great loss had occurred.
Far away across mountains and vast grassland, next to a damp cold river bank Amaterasu was startled out of sleep as she felt the Royal Yellow thread that ran to Boromir quiver and then snap. The sharp snap felt like deep cut in her very soul and Amaterasu knew that Boromir had passed from this world and she wept in the darkness of the night…
A/N: So, how many of you hate me now? I hope I did Boromir's passing justice. I don't have any strong feelings on Boromir, I don't have a feeling of like or dislike towards him so I find his character quite a challenge to write. Samwise Gamgee on the other hand... I like Sam in the books...But cannot stand Sam in the films, predominantly because of Sean Astin's diabolic accent. His accent is supposed to sound similar to the accent where I come from (I'm from a Shire! ;) which makes me a Hobbit!) but Sam's accent in the trilogy makes me want to cry... So Sam is a difficult one for me! I'd love to know if I got any of the character's right or whether they seemed too OC.
Sorry there's only a tiny bit of Ammy, but she gets most of the next chapter to herself! If that's any consolation?
Thanks to:
Fellowship of Avengers, Rorythedragon, Danda225, Kistelle , Sadly Only a Guest, GleekLover2012, Emzy2k11, Writer of the North, daddys number 1 girl, SoraLover987142, DragonBlade1000, DragonOwl, jonnioholo
Guest 6/6/13- That is a pretty funny typo! I try to get most of them but sadly I am but one person and I am only human unlike Ammy who is pretty amazing!