Saving Boromir (A Boromir love story)

Chapter 1: Amon Sûl

Chapter One: Amon Sûl

The man's eyes came alive with fire: he felt threatened. Who was this mysterious woman? How did she know his name? Why was she dressed so oddly? Why was she alone?

"It seems you are at an advantage," he spoke calmly, ignoring the questions that swam in his head. "You seem to know my name, but I do not know yours. Have we met before, traveler?"

"No," she answered in shock. "I don't think we've met. I apologize if I threw you off or something."

He furrowed his eyebrows together. "I beg your pardon, my lady- 'threw me off'?" What could she mean by this? She didn't look strong enough to throw him off of anything. Why would she want to harm him?

The woman looked dumbfounded, lost, and confused. "I'm in Middle-Earth?" she asked in disbelief.

"Yes," Aragorn said slowly, his knuckles turned white as he gripped the hilt of his blade. "Who are you?"

~Autumn's POV~

My heart thumped wildly against my chest, and my head was swimming with unanswered questions. How did I get here? How do I get home? Standing in front of me was Aragorn, Son of Arathorn, looking as if he had walked right off a movie set. This had to have been a dream- there couldn't possibly be any other explanation.

Part of me was thrilled to be in Middle Earth- I mean, it was what I had always dreamed of. After watching the movies for the first time, I joined an archery league with the aspiration of becoming a dead-shot. Then gradually, I started fencing classes, even participating in several LARP (live-action role play) events. But this-? This was crazy.

Aragorn stood in front of me with a look of suspicion and distrust, and I couldn't help but understand why. I took a step backward and raised both hands to show him that I meant no trouble. "My name is Autumn," I answered slowly.

"Where do you hail from?" Aragorn demanded. "And what business does a woman have alone in Amon Sul?"

My eyes grew wide, and I looked up at Aragorn in shock. "Did you say Amon Sûl? As in Weathertop?" my heart skipped a beat. This had always been one of my favorite scenes in the movie. A very pivotal event in the trilogy, a turning point for Frodo. But if I was indeed in Middle Earth, then that meant... "Wraiths," I whispered, trying to mask the fear in my voice. "The Wraiths followed you from Bree."

Aragorn's eyes grew wide. He drew his blade and, at the same time, grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and pushed me against one of the pillars.

"Hey!" I hissed, my back slamming against the stone behind me. By the time I registered pain, the edge of his blade was against my neck.

"How could you have known this?" he demanded, a cold fire replacing the kindness in his eyes. "You're a spy of Sauron." It was more of a statement than a question.

"No," I answered calmly. (Or as smoothly as I could in the situation.) "I am not a servant of Sauron's, nor am I your enemy," I needed to think of something fast if I was going to survive. "I seek the council of Gandalf Greyhame and Lord Elrond of Rivendell."

"What else do you know?" Aragorn hissed.

"Stay your blade, my lord, I mean you no harm," my voice shook, but I tried to remain calm. "I know only that you travel with the company of four Hobbits. You seek Gandalf as well."

Aragorn studied me for a long moment, his gray-green eyes looking for dishonesty. After what seemed like forever, his grip on me loosened, and he pulled back, sheathing his blade. "I do not trust you, Autumn," he decided. "But I see in your eyes that you speak the truth... how you come by your information is a mystery to me. Now, pray, do tell me, what do you mean by the Wraiths?"