Marian shivered. Something was dripping onto her forehead in a steady rhythm, rolling down the side of her face and under the neckline of her dress. She cracked an eye open and stared into the darkness around her, confused. Sounds and images flashed through her mind- she had crashed her car, then woken up in a forest, then…
With a jolt, Marian sat up, only to bang her head on something hard. I'm in my car, she realized. The driver's side had been warped and crumpled so badly that it was now much smaller inside. Lightning flashed in the sky, illuminating the trees for a split second. The rain was only a light mist now, dripping into the car from a hole above her head.
She felt along the door for the handle, but it was no use- her side was destroyed. Wrestling with the seatbelt, Marian freed herself and scooted across the seat, pleased to find the passenger door intact and functional. Now out of the car, she only made it a couple steps before tripping over something large lying on the ground. Catching herself before she sprawled face-first, Marian turned to look just as another bolt of lightning streaked across the inky sky. It was a deer, she realized, and the reason for her crash became apparent.
Marian stood still in the misty rain, rubbing her arms to fight against the chill. Thoughts were running rampant through her head- for she was quite sure that she had been stabbed in that strange dream of hers, and even the memory brought a sharp pain to her side. Instinctively, Marian placed a hand over the spot, sucking in a breath when she felt something wet and sticky covering her dress.
It was real. Or at least, she had been pierced by something during the crash and imagined she had been stabbed in her dream- but then, why was there no wound? Why was there only blood?
A pair of blue eyes swam before her gaze, and the warmth of a hand seemed to envelop her own. These memories were so vivid, so real, that Marian wondered if she had some sort of extra-strong concussion.
And yet… she remembered drifting away, feeling as if she was dying- but obviously she had not died, for here she stood.
Shaking her head as if to clear it of further thoughts, Marian turned back to her car. Somewhere in there was a cell phone, and seeing as no one knew where she was today, retrieving it was a top priority. Before she could go any further, however, the hair on Marian's neck stood up.
It happened quickly- all within a fraction of a second, Marian looked up into the sky as another bolt of lightning streaked downward, and for the second time that day she was enveloped by a blinding light, followed by absolute nothingness.
Aragorn stared across the river, watching Frodo and Sam slip into the trees and out of sight.
"You mean not to follow them." Legolas, hand still poised on one of the boats, looked at his friend, eyebrows drawn together.
Aragorn shook his head and pulled his gaze from the trees, meeting his companion's eyes.
"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands."
A grunt sounded from behind him, and Aragorn turned to look at Gimli, who rested his hands atop his axe.
"Then it has all been in vain…" he looked beadily up at him. "The fellowship has failed."
Aragorn shook his head imperceptibly. A fire was beginning to kindle in him, and he opened his mouth, eyes glinting- but Legolas made a noise of surprise, and Aragorn's head snapped around. His eyes met with the sight of a woman in a dress like he had never seen before, hunched over, stumbling out of the treeline.
He leapt forward, seizing one of her arms that was hanging limply; the other, he noticed, clutched the hilt of a dagger, deeply embedded in her side. The woman looked up at him and they locked eyes for a split second, before her knees buckled and Aragorn nearly lost his hold as she became dead weight.
Adjusting his grip, Aragorn lowered her to the ground, eyes skirting over her wound.
"Lady, who did this?" he asked, although as blood blossomed further out from the hilt of the cruel-looking dagger, he thought he already knew.
The woman's eyes widened as she spoke, voice almost too quiet to make out. "A monster. It said- it said I was travelling… with them. A woman."
Aragorn's stomach dropped. Not only was this woman stabbed by an Uruk-hai, but from the sound of it, she was targeted on the assumption that she travelled with the fellowship. As she coughed violently, he reached out a hand to brace her side.
No, he thought. She would have been hurt whether they thought she was with the fellowship or not. It was not in the Uruk-hai's nature to be merciful.
Preoccupied, he did not notice Legolas' approach until a voice spoke right next to his ear.
"Aragorn, who is she?"
Touching the woman's face, hoping to give some small comfort, Aragorn sighed inwardly. Too many, innocents or otherwise, were going to die in the oncoming war. He knew without a shadow of a doubt.
"Lady, how did you come by these woods?"
But as the words left his mouth, the woman's breathing became erratic and she let out a strangled noise, hand reaching out with an air of desperation. Legolas caught her grip.
"I- I think I'm dying!"
Her eyes searched Aragorn's, and then Legolas', as her chest heaved. Aragorn looked steadily back.
Lips barely parting now, she spoke. "R-remember me. Mari… Mari-"
The brown eyes that held his gaze emptied, and Aragorn lowered his head.
Legolas drew in a sharp breath. Aragorn looked sideways at him, but his eyes were on the hand within his grasp, now limp. Gently, Legolas placed the woman's hand on her chest and stood, backing away.
Taking his hand from her side, Aragorn turned and looked at his companions.
"It it true, Gimli," he said, taking in the dwarf's downcast face, "that we have lost much. That our enemy has taken much. But the fellowship has not failed, not if we hold true to each other. We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death while we have strength left."
They honored the woman the same way they had honored Boromir- she was sent away in one of the Lothlórien boats, having been placed gently inside, ugly dagger removed and eyelids closed.
As the current drew the boat smoothly downstream, Legolas spoke.
"Mari," he said softly. "She said her name was Mari."
And true to Marian's last request, their small fragment of the fellowship continued on, minds on those who they had lost: Boromir, a proud and honorable man, and Mari; an innocent woman caught up in the cruelty of war.