Wrath. Crazy angry wraith. I watched him, appearing serene and quiet as I felt this sense of pure rage well up and drown the grief, watched him stumble to the door and lock it. Wasn't even sure why he had a key. Tears kept running down my face. But … the emotion behind the tears was lost. It was buried and hidden under anger.

When Boromir turned to me and started towards me I exploded. Fists flew, I charged at him, letting it all EXPLODE everywhere. Hormones? Grief? Who the fuck cared. I caught him off guard, he backed off, hands raising, and even with my bad leg I more or less let him have whatever I'd thrown at the Orc and Uruk Hai.

I smashed a fist into his head, into his stomach, ignoring his attempts to grab my wrists and stop, and he seemed to struggle to get out of his drunken haze long enough to fight me back. Maybe he wasn't that drunk to begin with. Like I fucking cared right now. I slammed a fist into his cheek, his grunt of pain the most satisfying thing I'd heard all night, and tried to knee him between the legs. Boromir grasped my leg just in time to protect his jewels.

"What-"

Another hit to his face, to his jaw, and he stumbled back. I naturally followed, limping, ignoring the smear of blood on my hand or the droplets running down his face. Jug of water? I slammed the entire thing over his head, or tried to, but he ducked. It shattered on his shoulder instead and provoked another satisfying groan of pain.

In my anger I almost sent both of us flying out the window. Boromir managed to prevent it by grabbing into a bookcase and using the weight of it to pitch us safely backwards.

He pinned me down, grasping onto my wrists with one hand, sitting on my legs, the other hand over my mouth. Three seconds and I was stuck. I struggled, glaring up at him, trying to knee him between the legs again. His bum was planted heavy on my upper legs. I couldn't move them.

"You, woman, nearly killed both of us. Are you mad?"

Damn right I was mad. What the hell was he doing in here again? I breathed hard, trying to bite his hand, all the night's hurt thrown at him. His nose was bleeding. Good. When he released my wrists, I slammed a hand into him, and he grabbed them again, cursing softly. Boromir could hold me down all bloody night. I was going to be mad forever.

"Calm down."

I bit his hand hard, he yelped, and I hissed, "You are not supposed to be in here."

"You punched me!" He reached up to touch his face, cringing as his fingers brushed tender skin, adding, "I'm bleeding!"

"So stop sneaking into my room!" God. I wanted to be angry at him. I didn't care how much he bled. I could smell the alcohol on him but this did not provoke any kind of sympathy. The idiot had climbed up a deadly drop, drunk, and faced me. I gritted my teeth and repeated the statement. "You are not supposed to be in here. Drunk."

"I am not so drunk as I was last time. I came to talk with you and Legolas. Why do you cry?" Boromir's face had softened, as his eyes caught the dampness on my face, and the confusion faded. He stroked my face, ignoring my anger, his touch so gentle that it just reminded me of the way Legolas had done this. Barely minutes earlier. I felt the grief start to ebb slowly over the rage, felt my own tears threaten to come back, dampness again soaking it, and … Boromir saw it all. Of course he did. The bastard was getting too good at finding my weakness.

I hated him. Hated that he was seeing it. "Get out."

"Not a chance, woman. What happened?"

"Get out or I'll scream."

"None are here. Aragorn sleeps in with Frodo. Gandalf is there." Boromir leaned down, kissing my forehead with such tenderness, that it provoked my rage again. Asshole. Who did he think he was? "Wendy..."

"Legolas is not that far away. He'll hear." And what, beat him up? After what I'd just told him? Even as I said it I knew I wouldn't call for him. I couldn't face him tonight.

"Do you really think he'd hear over this? There is nothing to fear."

The din of the rain was loud, I had to admit that, I struggled to hear Boromir even. I shut my eyes as his hand continued to stroke my face. Tried to ignore him. I went still, quiet, mind trying to escape body. I heard him sigh softly. "I am not going to hurt you. Never would I touch you, with so much grief and sadness in your face, I could never..."

I opened my eyes, suddenly, searching his face. There wasn't any lust, there wasn't anything except faint concern, which started to trigger some guilt as I watched the blood slide down his face. "Just break into my room again."

"There were things I had to say. To you and Legolas both. But as I came to meet you, I overheard something, and so... it was more urgent. I would have knocked were it not. I overheard Gandalf speaking with Lord Elrond."

"I've already talked to them." My anger was fading. Instead I felt dull, tired, and lay there numbly, my breathing slowing. "Too late."

"I guessed." Boromir's voice had quietened too now. I felt his hand release my wrists now that I wasn't trying to kill him and I slid them free, his hand remaining, weight not fully on me. Still Boromir didn't move. He stayed where he was, sitting on my legs, and when he spoke again his voice was so quiet that I struggled to hear it. "I saw you and Legolas tonight. I saw your joy and love. Whatever you want, whoever you want, I will defend it with my life. They will not take you from this world, from your love, without taking me as well. I came to appologise. If Legolas is who your heart has chosen then-"

"Oh, shut the fuck up." I snapped. I wanted to be angry again but right now? I was just upset. He had been right all along, the asshole, right about Legolas, about Elves, and even about my baby physically aging slowly. What if I had known? Known that I was marrying Legolas? Known that we might concieve a child that wouldn't grow to adulthood before I died? That I would reduce his life by hundreds of years, change his life and Gimli's life, alter their future in such a drastic way? Not to mention all the things they were meant to do. People they were meant to change. Elves. Dwarves. Who knew what kind of impact their friendship would have on the world, on Elves and Dwarves, after so much hostility for so long?

If I had known that I would have such a negative effect on his future … Would I have given into him?

I loved him. But I probably wouldn't have done it. For his sake and my own. This was why Elves and humans didn't love. Because it didn't work. They were used to such a different way of living. Legolas still couldn't comprehend how little time I'd have with him. To him that time was nothing.

I felt so tired suddenly. Boromir's words were nice and all but they were too late. Wrong. He'd been right the first time around.

A shudder went through me, I felt so cold suddenly, and he slid back suddenly.

"Come to the fire."

I followed him, sliding across the floor, watching as Boromir started to heap various sized firewood onto the coals and blow on it.

"You were right. It was stupid. I don't know what I was th... no, I wasn't thinking."

The words brought up the tears and I twisted my head away, keeping my eyes shut, feeling his eyes boring into me. When I opened my eyes again he was staring at me with a kind of sadness that mirrored my own. One of his hands reached out to grasp my hand, holding it tight, as the other shoved small twigs into the fire.

The urge to kick him in the balls again rose. I ignored it. The anger kept trying to build but then I'd see Legolas face and it faded again. It just wasn't happening. Their words kept echoing in my head. I had to go 'home'. I had to leave. I had to give up the child. And I couldn't affect his future like that. Why had I thought otherwise? The second another Elf showed up they slapped me with reality.

"What exactly did you overhear?" I asked quietly. The fire suddenly caught on the smaller twigs, flaring into life, and Boromir sat back beside me with a heavy flop.

"You are returning to your world. The child remains here."

Great. He'd heard all the highlights that Legolas hadn't. I turned, digging my fingernails into my palms, and felt them cut through the skin. The pain somehow made my heart less … overwhelming. "Legolas doesn't know I'm returning. Don't tell him." It wouldn't help the situation.

"What does he know?" He didn't touch me any more than hold my hand, didn't try and kiss me, and there was space between us.

Boromir was actually trying to keep a distance that I was comfortable with. This was such a relief. Yes, I was angry with Boromir, because once again he'd crawled up here drunk. Well. Climbed. Climbed up a sheer cliff, wet with rain, while drunk. But he was also my friend. He also hadn't kissed me tonight. Well. He had on the forehead. But did that count?

"He knows I'm going to Rivendel. Not anything else." Also, he knew I wasn't doing this any more. Whatever the fuck that meant. Divorce? How could it be divorce when I hadn't really known we'd married to begin with? Maybe it hadn't been one. Marriage usually had to be something both parties were aware of.

"And he accepts this? That you go to Rivendel upon the summoning of Lord Elrond?" When I nodded, Boromir twisted to turn me, nearly tipping sideways in his haste. "You are not going. Not to Rivendel. You do not leave my city."

"Tough." Did I really have a choice? "Lord Elrond thinks it's best."

"And he also takes you from us. He does not take you and they will not take that child from you. They will not take you from my city so long as I breathe." His hand tightened in mine, his voice tightening with some kind of anger, but he was doing his best to control himself. Amazing. A few tears and Boromir was on his best behaviour. I was too emotional to care but … it'd probably come in handy in the future.

Or at least that was what I thought.

I didn't answer. I stayed quiet. Tired. It was happening and that was that. Then suddenly he snapped. Boromir twisted towards me, grasping my shoulders, his voice rising as he spat, "What has happened to your fight, woman? They come to take your child and you do not fight?"

"What the hell am I supposed to do?" I snapped. "How would I know where I belong? Here? There? Maybe they're right. I already changed too much. I nearly ruined Legolas' future just by being here. Not thinking."

"Ruin!" Boromir spat. He was growing angry. He stood up as well. "You call your love ruin? You carry a new life, you have saved lives, and some of us would die to experience the ruin your heart brings with no regrets. The small pain is nothing compared to the love you show."

Some of us would die? I couldn't look at him. He more or less proved it right with those words. I didn't want anyone to die for that. I crossed my arms and stared out past his shoulder into the dark night. "He had a different future. I … he had something else to do. I was selfish to think I could fit into that. Maybe they're right. The baby belongs here. I belong somewhere else. Legolas has something else to do. And you. I'm not fair to you either." I didn't elaborate. I knew he hurt.

"Yes, you have changed things." He grasped my arms, staring down at me, hands clenching my arms tightly. Boromir hissed, his voice soft and intense, "Here I sit, alive, witnessing my brother about to marry. Watching you grow from a nervous girl to a warrior, in just a few short weeks, and become a woman as you walk alongside me. And yes, I also feel pain, but … as I have just said. I saw such love in your face tonight as you gazed upon the Elf that I could never tear that from you. It was a moment that brought humility and sanity back. I would kill that which took that expression from you, rather than see you as you are now, heart broken and lost. I do not regret my love for you. I would die at the banks of the river than to live a day without the feelings I have. Yes, I suffer, but I do it knowing that you have a chance at happiness."

I did not want to hear this right now. But when he continued, "And I will keep you safe here with Legolas, as long as I must, before-"

"We're over. It's done. I didn't know we'd married when we had, and it wasn't right, and we … too many problems. You should go." Before I started to bawl all over again. It was seconds away. I shoved at him hard, shoving him towards the door, ignoring his attempts at shoving back. He didn't seem able to bring himself to do it. "Don't tell a word of this to Legolas. Nothing. He'll be fine. He gets a baby and I get..."

"What do you get? It cannot make you happy if you are so sad."

Flashes of Brian, of dad, and I lost it. Tears started to fall again. Did I want to go back there? No! I didn't even care about it any more. Who did I have there? A soon to be ex-boyfriend who was a jerk? Or a dad who was in prison? What else did I have? I didn't even remember. When Boromir grasped me in a giant bear hug I couldn't bring myself to resist. I leaned against him, crying for my life, as he held onto me. Whatever faults he had ...at least he could be dependent on. He pulled me against his side, big arms and chest hiding me from the entire damn world, and I couldn't bring myself to beat him up again. Later. I'd do it later.

"You do not have to leave. I swear, you will not leave my sight until they change their mind."

"But I ruined..."

"Nothing." Boromir's voice took on that sharp edge again, anger, and his arms tightened. "Nothing. You have saved my life. I cannot tell you of Legolas' life. But you do not have so much power as to change the fate of the world. Not anymore. The Fellowship's duty has ended now. If they send you, I will follow, I will find a way to follow. And I will drag your Elf."

"We're over. He kept …. kept dreaming of me dying. All the time. He couldn't accept it. That I would grow old. That our kid wouldn't even be an adult when I..." The words cracked as I said them. Admitted them aloud to Boromir of all people. I might have expected saying this to Aragorn, if someone had asked, but to Boromir after his behaviour? Yet right now... he listened, he didn't push or judge, and he frowned. "He couldn't accept it. It wasn't right for either of us."

I sat Boromir again, as I had always, this mortal man sitting beside me. Lines. Openly showing his own empathic sadness. He couldn't meet my eyes after a moment, he gazed towards the fire, his jaw tensing.

"You say that but your eyes do not agree. Nay. I do not believe it. You are exhausted and have had a terrible shock." Boromir's hand was stroking my hair, his lips against my forehead, his body actually trembling. "I will speak to Lord Elrond myself tomorrow. I do not believe you have done anything near as bad as you believe."

Oh fucking hell. One second he wanted me. The next? He was all 'team Legolas!' But I just sat there, being held was so comforting, and didn't respond.

We sat there in silence a long time, Boromir only moving to add another log to the fire, and after a while.

"Come." He said after a while. "You should sleep. And undress this time." As I blinked, Boromir added quickly, "I will not stay. You will sleep better if you are comfortable. I will be here in the morning with your breakfast to wake you before I talk to Lord Elrond. Not even my nurse could stop me."

That was nice. I stood up, quiet, and he waited. What was he waiting for?

"I miss your anger." Boromir muttered. "You would gut me for daring to wake you, I expect, and I am even more worried."

Would I?

Okay. I probably would. Usually. Instead I stood there, numb, as I felt him move to unlace parts of the tunic behind me that I couldn't reach. Then he headed for the door, glancing back at me with another furrow of his brow, before he left.

Back into bed. No more convenient visitors. Still, I didn't sleep. I was very tired and I just couldn't get past it into actual sleep. It was already growing light when I drifted off.

When I woke, I didn't feel any better than I had when I was asleep, the sense of depression and exhaustion still dogging at me. Wasn't sleep supposed to be this great 'forget everything and wake up expecting everything to be okay' time? Apparently not. I'd had nightmares, one after another, and had literally been aware of how heavy and depressed my chest felt. It was like being buried and crushed by my own grief.

Movement had woken me. Quiet, a soft oath, and a shadow moving across the window. When I opened one eye and squinted out through my hair I saw something out beyond the heavy velvet sliding the curtains shut and attempting to block the daylight outside. They didn't need to- it was still grey and raining out there. It was pretty dark anyway. Who it was, I couldn't actually see, I could only see their silhouette against the bed curtains.

But from the heavy feet, the clear 'I'm stepping on the ground' way that person walked, and the oath, I knew it was Boromir. Legolas barely made a sound when he walked. Boromir trod on the earth and made it tremble slightly.

As he passed by the gap in my curtains I saw I was right. Boromir. He knelt in front of a fire and dropped another heavy log onto an already healthy fire. He kept trying to be so quiet, I could see it, he cringed when the log fell heavily, cringed as his boot cracked a stick that had fallen onto the flagstones in front of the fireplace, and when he nearly tripped over a basket and sent a frying pan flying, his eyes darted to me in a panic.

"Did I wake you?"

"When you closed the curtain."

"That was the quietest thing I have done all morning!" He still spoke softly. Boromir shook his head and bent down to pick up the frying pan. "When I saw you asleep I decided I would wait for you to wake before I brought you breakfast. Wait just a few minutes and you will have something. I did try and speak to Lord Elrond but Gandalf could not tell me where he is." He was doing something as he spoke. Eggs. Cracking eggs into the pan and shoving it on top of the fire. Bacon. I smelt it the second the oil started to sizzle.

Boromir cooking me breakfast. It was sweet. I knew that, logically, I knew that what he was doing was sweet of him. But I didn't feel anything. Not sadness. Not happiness. Nothing. I just felt empty. My chest was just hollow.

"Thank you for cooking." I mumbled. It seemed like the right thing to say. Should I say I wasn't hungry? Or was that rude? I wasn't sure- I was going off logic right now. I didn't feel hungry.

"I am hungry too."

"Sorry for sleeping so long." What time was it anyway? I glanced at how grey and dark it was outside. I couldn't tell if I'd slept an hour or ten.

"You were tired. Now." He concentrated on the food as he grabbed a couple of pieces of bread and added it to the frying pan. "We will eat as much as we can."

I wanted to ask about Legolas. The words hung there as I lay in bed and stayed there. But I couldn't bring myself to ask. Guilt dogged at me when I tried. This feeling, this 'it's wrong' thing, it had been with me for weeks and weeks. I would ignore it because of my own selfish feelings. Because it 'felt good'. But weren't these kinds of things about more than just feeling good?

"Do you think I did the right thing?"

No answer and I wished I hadn't asked. Stupid person to ask. I should have asked Aragorn, not Boromir, not after Boromir had made it clear for weeks what HIS feelings were. He didn't even turn around as he busied himself with the frying pan.

"Your heart tells you better than I." Something in his voice had tensed. Boromir's shoulders squared as he spoke and his movements grew stiffer.

Okay. That was insensitive. I shut my eyes and wished I hadn't asked. Shit. "Sorry."

He didn't answer. Boromir only seemed to relax when he was satisfied with the food, spooning it into plates, and stared across the room for my bed.

"I had bread but when I cut into it, twas little friends, and I decided it was not worth risking."

"Little friends?"

"There were shapes moving through the bread." He rested down on his side slowly, balancing the two plates, and when Boromir was lying down he held out my plate. "Eat."

I watched him lie there, suddenly so self-concious of how little I wore under the covers, but the funny thing was that he barely even seemed to notice or care. Maybe he was too tired to have thought of it- his own eyes were dark, shadowed, the clear look of a man who once again had barely slept. If he had slept at all.

Bugger. This whole thing was messed up.

I shut my eyes and was woken a few minutes later by Boromir, who was shoving the plate at me and prodding me, and slowly started to eat as his eyes bored into mine. Yeah yeah. Eating. Food. Into stomach.

As we ate, the urge to ask about Leglas kept rising, but I could never quite get it to happen. I'd feel the words, the urge would rise, I'd inhale, swallow breakfast and..

Well, nothing.

Could I have done it if it was Aragorn or one of the hobbits and not Boromir? Maybe. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as we ate the fried eggs and ham, or some kind of meat, his body relaxed enough across the bed beside me, but his attention somewhere else. Funny how different he was behaving. Okay- he was above the sheets- but we were on my bed. No attempts at kissing. Nothing.

Not that I really minded. It just surprised me how good he was behaving right now.

"Hurry up and eat, woman, before I eat it for you." He grumbled. It was half-hearted, a joke that he barely had energy for, Boromir's head flopping back. He'd already emptied his plate and relaxed.

"You might fall asleep half way."

"I might. Why does your bed always smell so good? I may have to tie you to mine so that I may sleep better." He twisted his head towards me, yawning, winking.

Okay. Little less behaving. I flushed somewhat and glanced away towards the window.

"You wish to know where he is?"

A nod. NOW I couldn't meet his eyes. I slid the half eaten breakfast to one side.

"Then finish your breakfast."

"Who are you, my father?" I muttered. Boromir's grin took my breath away, this sudden grin that was all promices and something OTHER than 'friendly friend here to support you', because apparently this statement was more than he could resist.

"The things I would do to you, woman, were you not heartbroken would make it clear I am anything but your father." Intense eyes, suddenly, boring into mine. Reminding me that under these sheets I wore a nightgown. That was it. He twisted his head away and tried to hide the look on his face.

My body went crazy. I felt squirmy and hot faced suddenly, even through the depression, and started to eat. Hormones. It had to be the hormones. I couldn't explain my physical reaction to that statement otherwise. It had to be. I wished I had the internet to find out. NOW I missed google. Also. I needed it to be changed to Legolas now. I couldn't cope with his attitude unless I had some way to hurt him.

Neither of us spoke a while. But I barely ate. I tried, I really did, but my throat was still swollen with some kind of emotion I couldn't quite ...get out. So shoving food past it was slow going. I admired the damage I'd done to his face, as I tried to eat, the black eye, the bruises and scars, a cut on his neck. Pretty good.

And maybe I was also … also was reluctant to find out. There was this sense that I wouldn't like the answer.

"Legolas is with Aragorn and Gimli." Boromir said softer, his grin fading, his eyes going away. "I do not know exactly how he is. He did not seem well."

"Not even sugar coating it."

"If you mean I should make it easier for you, no, for I would not lie to you." Boromir added softer, "Though perhaps I should."

Should? Why? My heart sank. Warm fuzzy feelings gone. I was suddenly dropped back into that pit of desperation somehow, chest empty, and felt my body actually physically weaken with it. The food felt too heavy. "He's..."

"Not well, as I said, sick even." He clearly wanted to stop talking about it. Boromir met my eyes and frowned. "Do not look so devestated. h\He was well enough to try and attack me. So you need not think he is dying. He was pale, did not speak, and his hair was ...different. It was not well kept."

In other words he didn't have braids or comb it every half hour. Bad. I squeezed my eyes shut and

felt the bed sink as a warm body came to lie against mine, arms capturing me, Boromir's scent filling my nostrils. Not bad. Just ...obvious. When I realised I'd started to cry again I tried to shove him off me. Okay. What was wrong with me? Hurting him?

I tried to remember the reasons. Stupid reasons. Stupid reasons that no amount of love would make go away.

"Stop it. Do not fear being sad with me."

"Blah blah blah. I don't know how come I'm flipping around." Except hormones. Also. I'd kind of done the wrong thing by him. Why hadn't I just ...told him? Right at the start? That I felt like it was a bad idea?

"Blah... blah... blah?" He repeated me, slowly, and I wasn't sure if there was pity on his face or amusement. "I do not know if it was the right thing, Wenduin, but I trust your heart to know."

My heart didn't know. I missed Legolas. And I pushed Boromir backwards, slowly, breathing out.

Boromir didn't stay the rest of the day. He probably wanted to, from how much he tried to linger, but he had a life and he more or less vanished once I'd clearly eaten. I was left alone. To nap, to stare out the window, numb one second, hysterical the next, and these sessions filled with the occasional attempt at throwing up.

I could have left my room. I wasn't locked in there. But when I thought about it... I'd suddenly wonder if I'd run into Legolas. Gimli. Aragorn. This wasn't something I could face yet.

The more time that passed the less I wanted to face Boromir as well. I saw less of his good side and more of the beautiful bruises I'd caused last night. It was easier to be angry at him than it was to accept that right now he was helping. That felt like a betrayal. Betraying someone I wasn't actually with.

When I realised this, I laughed, almost hysterical. And when I looked outside, it was suddenly dark.

Well, okay, not suddenly. It had been raining all day. But the fire had died down, I had barely moved from my bed. Ignored the food Boromir had left beside the fire. Ignored the firewood. Now I stood up, slowly, and went to wash with water in the room beside mine. Bathroom or storage room, or a bit of both, I wasn't really sure.

It was strange suddenly how quiet it got. How I'd go from always having at least one person around, Eowyn, Aragorn, Faramir, even some maid, to being on my own. It only increased the guilt and confusion.

Going to bed alone did not help either. I sat there. No energy to sleep, no energy to lie down, I felt so numb and empty.

I picked up my phone as I lay in bed, staring at it, and once again I felt... I didn't know.

Some part of me wanted to contact Brian. All I had to do was turn it on. I didn't know what to say to him. It was just ... that some part of me, that warrior side, it had faded and I felt like I needed someone to be angry at me. I needed someone to tell me exactly what I should do now. Boromir hadn't done that. Legolas hadn't even spoken when he'd left. No one had told me it was the wrong thing.

No one had told me off. I felt so bad.

It felt like he hadn't left my side. I stared sideways across my bed in the darkness, at the empty space, reaching out to brush my hand against the cold half. It felt like he'd never left my room or my side. Still the bed was cold. Cold and ...empty. Fuck. Fuck.

It was either turn the phone on or run back to him right now. Willpower was draining. I wanted to mess up his stupid hair myself. But not his life. I didn't want to mess up his life.

I slept somehow that night. Maybe. The next day was empty, no one came, not even Boromir, and the fire was more or less dead so I ignored it. I wandered around, keeping the door locked, drank water, and slept.

Something in me was dying. I felt it. I knew it. Even as a life grew inside me, something was dying, and I felt lifeless. Numb. Darkness and light, it came and went, and so did food, which I tossed to the birds. Visitors probably came. I had the door locked and stayed quiet. If it wasn't Boromir it would be Aragorn, who had also been right, or Gimli, who might argue for Legolas, and if it was Boromir...

Truthfully I wasn't able to face him again. Not after the shame of feeling desire for him. Feeling it so fast!

Nope. It was better to cut away for a while.

So I ignored people at the door. I offered the food to the birds. I bathed, of course I did, the need to be clean was pretty much the only thing that got me out of bed and I suspected people must have gotten into the 'bathing room' via the little door in there because it always seemed to be clean. But they more or less left me alone.

Maybe this was strange. Maybe not.

The rain came and went. I sat there during the light, watching it, legs crossed. Watched the sun cross over Minas Tirith and the plains that surrounded it. The people far down below. They shopped, they moved around, the city being repaired. It just seemed easier to focus on everything else that didn't involve me. When I saw someone from the Fellowship- the hobbits were most obvious- I cringed and had to retreat in till they were gone.

It was dark when I finally gave into the urge to turn on my phone.

The phone flashed on in the darkness, fully charged from being left in the sunshine the day before, and I stared at it. The brightness hurt. The sound seemed weird. And messages came.

Like before, it had a full bar of reception, which was both weird and unsettling. And like before I felt like a stranger with what I saw on it. Yes- a few names made sense. Most still had no meaning. Maxine, Irene, Kat, Davie, and a huge list of other names. Nope. No meaning whatsoever.

Brian. Photo. I stared at the photo of him. Of course I felt something, now that I remembered him, it was impossible. Before I knew it I was dialling him.

"Babe?" Sleepy voice. Was it late there too? He seemed to wake up fast. "Baby? What you doing? Where are you? Why the fuck haven't you answered my messages?"

I didn't know how to answer. I stared at the phone, the speaker feature put on by sheer instinct, and opened my mouth. "I... I don't know." I didn't know why the urge to call him had been so strong. Because I felt lost? Because he'd rescued me once before? Because I still cared about him even though he'd been a jerk?

Had he just been a jerk because he'd been stressed out?

Because I had a life here. Had. Had a life here. Right? The door opened and shut, I flinched as I heard it, but I didn't stop staring at Brian. His hair had been cut a little bit around his face. The light from the phone was so unnatural and weird on his face.

Suddenly I was crying again, tears sliding down my face silently, and I saw the tension increase in his face. Worry. He was so worried about me. God. I needed a hug right now. Wenduin... she felt like a stranger suddenly. Shit was bad and I needed help.

"I don't know, I don't know what I'm doing any more."

"You look like shit. Look. I have money waiting. Tell me where you are. I'll come get you." He was sitting up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, adding, "Don't you hang up on me. I've been worried sick. You just vanished in the flood. They think you're dead. Only your dad agrees you'er ali... who the fuck is that?"

Arms closed around me, suddenly, Boromir sinking onto the bed behind me. He smelt of sweat, exhaustion, and his face pressed against the side of mine as he stared down into the light. "I leave you for five days and return to find you in tears again? What the fuck is this creation? Is it evil?"

The word suited him much too well. I cringed. I had to stop teaching Boromir my words. He ignored me as I tried to squirm free, arms tightening, taking the little phone and holding it up with a critical stare.

"Don't say that word." I muttered, soft, and felt his chest contract in a soft chuff of amusement.

"As you wish, my lady."

"I-" Brian cut in, sharply, making Boromir tense. "-am her boyfriend." He snapped, eyes snapping from Boromir to me, anger starting to rise. Something in me cringed. Kim cringed. I knew that look, I knew that anger, and while Wenduin might have wanted to slap him for it... Kim knew better. Knew, from her own father, that to fight it made them worse.

It was easier to stay down. Stay quiet. They'd always go away.

"I should destroy this object." Boromir grunted softly. I felt him shift, sliding something out, the flash of metal showing he'd tugged a knife out of ...somewhere. "It makes you weak."

"No." I couldn't stand the idea. I'd never destroyed it. Never. I couldn't bear the idea of being removed from … from that world. It shocked me, the need to still be connected, the need for this tiny plastic and metal object, because even though I'd ignored it... I'd still keep it safe. Keep it charged. Close. "No. Boromir, re-"

"Boromir?" The anger in Brian's face grew. "Another cosplayer? Are you cheating on me with the entire fucking cast? Where are you, New Zealand, banging the hobbits now?"

What! "No!"

"She bangs none but the Elf." Gee, thanks, that did NOT help. Boromir was shifting forward, chest pressed against my back as he stared down into the little video chat screen, narrowing his eyes. "Why does this one look so similar?"

"He's pretty close in face, isn't he? Just needs a bit more hair." To my surprise Brian actually relaxed. Maybe he thought by 'the Elf' Boromir had meant him. He was, after all, one of the most popular cosplayers of Legolas. They did have a lot in common when Brian was all … extensions, make up, fake ears, shimmery make up and fake clothing. "We should adopt him into our Fellowship. Where are you?"

"Minas Tirith." Boromir twisted his head towards mine, dropping his knife and raising a hand to brush his rough fingers against my damp cheek, now suddenly ignoring the phone. "You have not allowed anyone in here for days. Aragorn believed it was what you needed. But I am here now. Talk with me. Not with this sorry excuse for a man."

"Hey!"

"Sorry. I should call you back." Finger pressed the little hang up button before he could react. I twisted towards Boromir, then thought better, and turned away. He clearly disagreed that this was a good idea- Boromir grasped my shoulder and made me face him again.

"Wenduin?"

"My name was Kimberly. Kim."

"Kim." He tested this word, scowled, and shook his head. "Nay, not you. Wendy. Wenduin. These names suit you. Have you been in here for five days sulking?"

"Five days? Really that long?"

"Your Elf said much the same thing. At least, I would presume as much, but he has not stopped speaking in Elvish since you saw him last." Boromir scowled. "I am sure he does it to annoy me."

I wanted to laugh, hysteria flooding me at his statement, but Boromir crossed his arms and stared at me. He suddenly grasped me and shook me hard. "Wake up. You are like the walking dead. Have you eaten?"

"I guess."

He took my phone, sudden, standing up and backing off. "I leave you for five days and you do not eat, you do not brush your hair, you and the Elf are as bad as each other. It is this which makes me feel as if neither of you are right. You are as a disease for each other."

Ow. That really hurt.

"See?" Boromir snapped. He slid the phone into some pouch thing. "You see? When you are lovers, his fate is changed for the worse, and when you are not, neither of you can eat or live. The breathing dead. How can I support your love for him when it devastates your health? It is not love, Wendy, it is obsession."

"You can speak, Boromir, how do you behave with me?" I mumbled. When he flinched, I cringed, and twisted away so I couldn't see the hurt on his face. Okay. It had been cruel. But he did behave badly too.

"Aye, I do not fare much better, but I still live without you. I love you enough to live without you if that is what you need. If he was what you needed, I would live without you, and I would do so with all my heart. You have stopped living." He grasped a cup from the table and drank water, fast, scowling. "Why is this not stronger?"

"Time to sleep." I slid the blankets over me. I heard him growl softly, something crashing againt the wall suddenly, and so I tugged the blanket over my head.

The blankets flew off the bed, Boromir dragging them off in one huge yank, and the anger in his face shocked me. I stared up at him as he knelt on the bed, crawling across, and grasped my face, kissing me hard.

I lay there. Quiet. Still. He scowled when I didn't fight him, didn't punch him, and leaned up.

"Where is the fight that I love so much?" He cupped my face gently, shutting his eyes, a strange expression crossing his face. "What can I do?"

"Maybe they were right. I have to go back."

I inhaled sharply when I felt a hand slide up my thigh, under the night dress, and was aware suddenly of the intense look in his eyes. The look that I'd felt too numb to really notice before. Boromir grasped my knee, suddenly, dragging my legs apart, and knelt between them.

"Boromir, no, I'm not interested!" Why was my voice so damn weak? It was more of a squeak.

"Did you say something?" He snapped, hands tightening on my knees when I tried to close them, and drew them wider apart, his eyes slowly tracing down. I stared up at him, wide eyed, face red, breathing hard suddenly at the expression in his face. The nightgown was long enough to hide everything there, he really only could see bare leg, but …

I hadn't even thought about it. It wasn't transparent. It was high in the neck. Went right down to my knees. But right now it may have well not existed at all. He stared at me with such intense lust, anger and affection, that I squirmed, and tried to peel his hands off my legs.

"I said no."

"Did you say something?" He slid his hands up the outside of my thighs, his own thighs keeping my legs wide as he scooted up, rough leather pants scratching against my pants. "I did not hear. Nay, maybe it was nothing."

"Boromir!"

"The wind, perhaps?" He inhaled slowly as the nightgown slid over my hips, my bare skin exposed to him in the darkness, and lips crushed me again as his body pressed against mine. "Perhaps it is the wind."

Like before, I felt heat flooding my body and face, I couldn't stop it. Hormones or whatever, it didn't matter, because I couldn't... even if I DID have to let Legolas go... it was too fucking soon.

Something smashed across Boromir's head suddenly. Smooth. Crumbling. Dampness exploded over both of us, and then something warm and wet dripping down my face. Blood? I'd cut his face.

Boromir grinned. Then he slapped me.

Slapped me.

I hit him hard, which made him slap me again, and I gaped up at him. "You're hitting me!"

"Slapping, woman, and you are hitting me."

"Because I'm allowed! You're a man! You can't hit a woman!"

"You are no woman, my love, you are a man contained within this beautiful body."

I inhaled sharply again as his thigh suddenly rode up hard between my legs, amusement all over his face at my reaction, and his eyes moved down my body once more without any attempt at hiding what he was looking for. So I hit him again hard, which caused him to hit my shoulder in return. The anger that I'd tried to supress started to rise big time. "Boromir, stop it!"

"Or what, Wenduin, will you plead for mercy? Will you beg?" To my shock he slid down, slowly, kissing down my chest through the fabric, and pushed my nightgown up as he moved. When his lips found my bare stomach I growled and tried to shove him off.

"I'd never fucking beg you for anything!" I snapped. "Never!"

"Woman, you would be begging me nightly, were I allowed to do to you what I wish." The wicked grin increased as his legs widened mine. His lips left my stomach, to my relief, but when I felt his lips find the inside of my thigh, his stubble tickling and teasing me, I groaned and tried to shove at his stupid big head.

Suddenly he sat up, reaching for his shirt and drew it off with a quick yank. "Now, lay still, and let me kiss you."

"I'm going to kill you."

"Aye, you tell me that, but I see the truth in your eyes. Lie there a moment and trust your Boromir..."

He was reaching for his belt. One of them, anyway, for some reason he had TWO on. I watched, breathing hard, not sure WHAT THE FUCK I was feeling. I knew he was serious. As one fell beside me and he reached for the second, I reacted, my anger deciding what to do for me.

I grabbed the belt as he dropped it on the bed, snatching it, and started to whack it against him. Boromir grunted in pain, quickly sliding backwards, the thin leather belt whipping against his bare chest. I followed. I slid off the bed, fast, the nightgown falling, and stormed after him, ignoring the heat that'd flooded my body at his actions. Face red I swore at him, slapping the belt hard against him, and barely felt his answering 'blows'. It was almost like he wasn't trying.

He grasped for something, as he backed up, stumbling somewhat, an obvious bulge in his pants making my anger grow even more.

"I said no, Boromir, what the fuck is the matter with you?" I swore as I appraoched him. Why the fuck was he still grinning at me? "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"There you are. Where have you been?" He grabbed the belt, suddenly, and so easily pulled it out of my iron grip that I blinked. Boromir winked and turned to the door. "Come in, Aragorn, I told you. I know this woman."

I twisted to the door, staring as Aragorn came in, his eyes fixed on my eyes and avoiding the nightgown with the same determination that Boromir had spent in looking at it.

"Here." He held out a tray of food. "Eat."

My eyes went from Aragorn to Boromir, Boromir standing there with his arms crossed and this horrible smug smirk on his face, Aragorn with a more apologetic smile as he held it out.

"What ..."

"None else could wake you from it. I am sorry if he upset you." Aragorn shot a look at Boromir. "He promised to kiss you only. Where is your shirt, Boromir?"

"I did kiss her. Very thoroughly. " He grinned as he winked at me. "Did I not?"

"I hate you."

"Then prove it. Eat. Dress. And beat me in a duel."

I gawked at him as he held something up. Something that was new to the room. A pair of swords? Armour? Had he carried all of that in while I wasn't looking? Boromir strode over to where his shirt had fallen and tugged it back on. "If I win, I will remain with you all night."

"And if I win, you get to spend the night outside?"

"If that is what you want."

"Naked. Tied to a tree."

Aragorn laughed as Boromir scowled. "He will be tied to the soldier's barracks, Wenduin, not in public where innocent women and children may see his shame. You may think this less but his soldiers will not let him forget it for the rest of his life. I swear- if I do not see to it, Faramir will gladly."

"I will win. She has weakened. I have much more of her to see..." Boromir grunted in pain again as I aimed the belt for his head, his arm rising fast to block it, leaving another welt of pain. "This love is painful!"

"Fine." I snapped.

I ate, scowling at Boromir as he refused to leave, my anger driving something. Aragorn seemed to know waiting outside was the right thing to do. Boromir apparently didn't care.

"You going to stay as I dress?"

"Is that an invitation, my man in a woman's body?"

"No." Aragorn appeared again, dragging at his arm. "We will help you with the armour."

I dressed, breathing hard, desire gone now. Logic was back. He'd done it to piss me off. Oh, he'd probably enjoyed every second of it, but why else would the man have put on two belts? Still it did do something. It triggered something in me and snapped me into 'action mode'. Action mode was good. I had missed it. I grasped the blade once I had dressed and lifted it.

It was my blade. It was the one I'd carried since Rohan. Someone had repaired it, the leather keeping the blade safe was new, etched with new designs. But I knew the handle.

"Are you ready?"

"Yeah."

The door opened and both Aragorn and Boromir helped me re-armour up. Just light leather, thin, enough to protect me somewhat but not weigh me down. Boromir had a vest of his own. He grinned as he left me outside, continuing to tease and torment me about how he'd stay with me all night. Naked.

"Not naked." Aragorn said softly. "I will glue his clothing on, if I must."

"You would not!"

"I would and I would laugh if you ripped hair out trying to remove it." Aragorn's arm crossed over my shoulders. He was leading us to a deserted area in the city, with only the light of the moon,and there were no guards here. Just the three of us.

"Now. I will go easy on you." Boromir promiced, as he steadied himself.

I scowled and tried to hit him hard with the blade. My force actually surprised him, but as I struck down, I suddenly had this memory of him just inches from kissing there... and he'd known it.

"Hey!" He shoved at me, hard, blade blocking mine only barely. It threw me back a few feet though and I stumbled back, just catching myself in time.

"Be gentle, Boromir, she is with child." Aragorn stood close by, arms crossed, torn between worry and amusement .

"And what of I! I need this arm!"

"This was your idea." Aragorn retorted.

I ignored them both. I hadn't forgotten the baby but I had a score to settle, and Boromir's hesitation to hurt me made it all the easier to crash my sword at him, using every last second of training HE'D offered to make him stumble.

Was it wrong that when I managed to slash him through the tunic that it felt good? Who cared. I glared at him as he grasped for his arm.

"Do you submit to her?"

"I would never!" Boromir scowled, grasping his arm where I'd cut it, and he lunged at me. This time he was more serious, and the two of us fought, blade crashing.

I wasn't his level of fighter. Not even by a long shot. But being pregnant had such a massive advantage- half the time Boromir would hesitate, he was afraid of wounding me, so I seemed to be doing better than him. When he nicked my hip he actually threw down his sword, swore, and tried to check that it was fine.

I grasped the slice across my hip, sliding the pants down to check, and shrugged. He'd honestly only scratched me. It'd cut through pants and there was a tiny scratch. It was long but so shallow that it was on the level of 'papercut'. "It's nothing."

"One strike each. The next to draw blood wins." Aragorn added, quickly, "Unless one of you submit."

"Nope." I grasped my sword hard and tugged my pants back up.

"I ..." Boromir stared at my hip. He'd actually gone pale and he crossed his arms. "You are pregnant and yet you still fight?"

"You saw me naked."

Aragorn's eyes narrowed as he shot a look at Boromir. "Did you kiss her or more, Boromir?"

"Only half."

"The bottom half!"

To my surprise Aragorn actually strode across to hit Boromir hard, grasping his collar, and glared at him. "Boromir..."

"I made her angry and here she is." Boromir held up his hands. "Fine, I submit. I yield. I cannot best her. She has won in sword and in words."

"Good." Aragorn turned to me. He scowled. "Sorry. I should have trusted my instincts. It was out of sheer desperation for you and your health that I allowed it at all. Boromir has been begging for days now."

"I was not begging." Again, the pride reared up in Boromir's face, and he tightened his hands across his chest.

"You were. And now you will again. Meet me at your barracks or I will inform your brother of what she has just told me. Wenduin, I am sorry."

"As am I. I am a man of honour. I will be at the barracks." Boromir moved away, slowly, glancing over his shoulder at me. I had the distinct impression that Boromir wasn't sorry. He was trying his best but … he grinned before he vanished under an arch.

Aragorn sighed softly and bent down to pick up the sword Boromir had thrown aside. He met my eyes and reached out to clasp my hands, slowly peeling the sword out of my hand, before he gently dropped them to one side. "My friend."

"Sister now."

"You are a sister to me." He agreed. Suddenly he grasped me, hugging me hard against him, and I felt the anger fade. Once again I felt sadness. Was that Legolas I smelt on him? Had he hugged Legolas?

"I had to..."

"Why? Come and sit." Aragorn's hand slid into mine and we moved through the darkness to a seat.

There was no judgement in his face as I told him everything. Only sympathy, warm sympathy, and when I was done he sighed and pulled me against his side. "I see."

"Even if I... even if we kept it going. He'd have to leave again soon. And he just can't accept that I'm going to age. I don't know how to explain to him that's how it works." I muttered.

"Soon?"

"Well, thirty years or so."

"I see." Aragorn sighed.

We sat there quietly. As 'action Wendy' faded I felt numb again, tired, and when he hugged me harder against his side, I breathed out slowly.

"How is he doing?"

"He is surviving, as you are, and has been taken to the camp where the Elves from Rivendel are. You need not worry for him." Aragorn said softly. "Gimli is with him now. He still talks, he still eats and drinks, and has gone hunting orc not three hours past. I am taking you back to the house where the rest of the Fellowship sleeps. This is not an easy thing you are experiencing I … would rather keep a closer eye on Boromir as well."

I nodded. He stood up, helping me up, and I followed him quietly back to the smaller house I'd once shared with Eowyn.