Leaning over the boat to graze the surface of the water with her fingers, she relished the chill it gave to her burning hands as an escort paddled her in line with the other boats. Silently, they treaded the water to their next destination. She sighs after a while, looking back to see Legolas and Gimli talking amongst themselves, even seeing him smile at the dwarf, which struck her chest strangely. Wishing she was on that boat, she continued to stare as they conversed, feeling a small smile dawn her lips as she realised that a nice friendship had begun to grow between the odd pairing. The more she stared, the less her head rushed with nervousness. She didn't want to leave Lady Galadriel just yet... she still needed answers.
Reminded of Galadriel's gift, she turns back and peers at the mirror in her hand, stroking its silver clasp in deep thought; whether to look at it again or not. This gift was a strange, she didn't know what it's purpose was other than showing the 'truth'. If it is the truth, then does that mean that the beast she sees reflecting back is what she is deep inside? A shudder ran down her spine, and a lump began to form in her throat at the thought of it, so she cast her gaze to the rippling waters again.
Seeing pieces of her face shine back at her in the water was more comforting than it.
The four boats pass into the Great River Anduin, rich green forest slowly reducing into sick brown and withered foliage, already a telltale sign that their leisure in Lothlòrien is now over, and that danger is once again at nigh.
Looking to Legolas, she's grateful to see him still paddling, occupied completely by his surroundings which allowed her a chance to study his face for a good minute. She knows what it feels like to be attracted to someone, and it's no doubt she felt attracted to him — after all, he is considered one of the fairest Elves of the land, but there was something else about her feelings toward him that seemed... new.
He catches her watching, and quickly she snaps her head away, almost cracking her neck painfully in the process. Hearing a small chuckle from behind her, she grew red in the face from embarrassment, knowing he had caught her.
Eventually, the boats safely come ashore on a bank out of the river, after riding for hours. Slipping the mirror into her bag, she got up, but hesitated for a moment, not trusting herself enough to make it safely out of the boat. She tries to refrain from looking helpless, but alas, the elf that had escorted her (for unknown reason, perhaps Galadriel wanted [Y/n] to have a boat to herself, but the intent wasn't clear), outstretched his arm for her to use as leverage. She gratefully takes it and steps out, gasping when her view suddenly came to a cold eyed Legolas, who stood before her expectantly. His fists were clenched, and it seemed he was irritated by something that [Y/n] could not decipher. After stepping onto land, the elf bows briefly, then proceeded to paddle back up the river towards the city. [Y/n] sighs, wishing she was on that boat. A soft cough reminded her of the mischievous presence of a certain golden haired Ellon, and her eyes darkened irritably.
"I cannot lie, I was hoping to see you tumble into the waters," Legolas speaks up, and [Y/n] punches him in the arm in response, her face heating up again. He doesn't even flinch at her strike, but instead eyes her with great amusement much to her displeasure.
"Is that so? Well, I was hoping you'd get snatched by a river monster just like in Moria!" She huffs, and he shakes his head.
"That is a far more extreme wish than mine," he retorts, crossing his arms casually while peering at her curiously as she panicked to retort.
"So?" She huffs, crossing her arms as well. "At least I don't provoke!"
"Your very existence is provoking," he responds and [Y/n] could feel her hands clench into fists, tempted to strike him just for that insult.
Trying not to overreact, she took a deep breath and calmly turned away and rode up the bank towards Boromir and Aragorn, who spoke quietly to themselves behind a boulder. Trying to act like she wasn't about to explode with exasperation from her interaction with Legolas, she takes a deep breath and focuses on the two men in front of her instead. She quickly becomes worried in seeing them look out from the boulder so cautiously, it's saying that something was wrong.
"Are you both alright?" She asks, feeling their anticipation.
"We are well, my lady, do not worry." Boromir nods, smiling politely. She huffs in amusement, knowing it was definitely something to be worried about.
"Please, call me [Y/n]," she bows for him and Boromir chuckles, while Aragorn smiles faintly, observing their interaction. Before she could leave, Aragorn stops her.
"Set camp in the clearing, behind those bushes." He points. "We rest here tonight," he finishes, and [Y/n] nods understandingly, hoping that whatever it was they are worried about, it's not too bad.
Heading to Sam, she sees Frodo already sat against a tree safely in the clearing, but Sam was collecting some water in his skin flask, stuffing it into his bag.
"Come, Sam," she reaches her hand out and he quizzically takes it, following her to the clearing.
"We stay here tonight," she pats his back and he complies, unpacking some of his stored food, then she jogs over to Legolas and Gimli, who were still conversing by the water, presumably about the boats given that Legolas would point at them occasionally.
"Come sit with us," she waves them over, and Gimli immediately jumps to action when he hears the possibility of sitting comfortably, trotting away to Frodo and find himself a nice smooth rock to sit upon. Legolas, however, remained staring at her with his arms folded, not responding to her offer.
"Come on, then," she gestures frantically, feeling his stare bore into her head. Luckily, Legolas complied wordlessly, but kept a smug look on his face. That rascal, was he mocking me? She narrows her foul gaze and soon joins them, leaning against a rock with it plastered across her face.
As Boromir and Aragorn spoke hushed to themselves, the fellowship settled in and unpacked their beds. Night had already begun to creep in, shadows around them beginning to flicker stronger from the dim campfire they got going. It was dimming by the minute, so [Y/n] helps gather some wood for a fire, and Legolas is the one that takes it from her hand — notably in an odd way; by putting his hand over hers and then sliding off onto the wood. The whole process made her ears burn and her chest drum loudly. She recollected herself by pinching her ears out of his sight.
When the fire was lit, [Y/n] stayed away from it due to how warm she already was, just by being touched by Legolas so briefly. She took in a deep breath, feeling angered that he was able to have such an affect on her, so she set off for revenge, hoping to get the same out of him.
Approaching with wobbly legs, she endured his curious stare and leant against the tree next to him. Patiently, she waited for him to stop talking to the others, before she made her move.
Running a finger through the side of his head where his braid was, she delicately stroked it for as long as she could, ignoring her thumping heart and shaking hands. He didn't say a word, but stiffened upon contact, his eyebrows furrowing ever so slightly.
"I could never braid my hair," she casually sighs, before retreating. He lets out a deep breath and turns to her with slightly widened eyes and his adams apple bob up and down noticeably.
"Perhaps, I could do one for you?" He suggests, and she shakes her head.
"No, thank you. I like to keep my hair out of the way," she flicks her shoulder, as if to action flicking her hair despite nothing being there. Her hair was in a tight bun, secured with a hair stick and a cover, so that it doesn't fall out while she's running.
"A shame, I say. Hair is a blessing and to keep it trapped tightly in such a style is a great pity. I would wager that if you let your hair free, you would look far more fairer," he replies, his lips quirking up when she looks away, a blush forming on her face instantly. Did he just imply I'm fair? Who cares, ignore it! She looks back furiously.
"Well... there's no use being fair when in a situation like this. I cant empathise with you, who braids their hair any moment of they get," she quirks her features into a frown, observing his fishtail braid with slightly judgemental eyes. Legolas scoffs at her opinion.
"Why am I not surprised? Your hair is as matted as a wargs coat." He crosses his arms and [Y/n] gasps loudly, in horror or offence — it was not clear which.
"Curse you, Legolas..." she grumbles, and he chuckles darkly.
"Haven't you already?" He spoke softly, and [Y/n] almost didn't catch it. She wondered what he meant by that, and racked her brain for an answer. She's never cursed anyone, let alone Legolas, so what on earth was he on about?
Too occupied with her thoughts that bubbled like a witches
brew, she didn't notice Frodo's troubling behaviour — how he refused to eat or sleep, despite looking so skinny and tired. Even Sam worried greatly for his friend, but both him and [Y/n] could not do anything about it in the end, even if they forced him to.
The warmth from the fire slowly lulled [Y/n] into sleep, but she refused to rest now. Legolas was still awake, and she hopes to speak with him alone for a little — not for any particular reason, but the feeling of being alone was unique compared to conversing in a group. As the others snored away, [Y/n] inched herself closer to Legolas bit by bit, till she was right next to him. Picking up a stick, she poked at the flames, letting it burn at the end, lighting bright orange. She flicked it around so little remnants of light stayed behind, making circles in the process. She chuckles to herself, trying to make pictures but it was all just a scribbled mess. Legolas watched silently, letting the moment pass, staring at her directly with words looking behind his lips.
"You should sleep, Lady [Y/n]," he abruptly interrupts the quiet, almost making her jump. She quietly puts her stick down to face him from where she sat, her bed already made beneath her.
"And, what if I don't want to?" She grins mischievously which in response he takes in a deep breath through his nostrils, letting the fire dance in his eyes as he pondered his response.
"Then I won't be able to focus tonight," he replies, a faint smile at the corners of his lips which never seemed dry, making her lick hers unconsciously. Comprehending what he's saying, she couldn't grasp what he meant.
"Why would that be? What are you focusing on," she asks.
"I'm on night watch for now," he explained honestly, and [Y/n] frowns, thinking he implied she was annoying him.
"Very well. If I'm so bothersome you could have just said so from the start," she mumbles under her breath, shuffling herself into bed with a sullen face.
"That isn't what I meant, my lady." He shakes his head. "This evening is full of dangers and the unknown, and so many of my loved ones rest under these harsh woods — it is my duty to be the guardian as others rest, as I need little sleep compared to others." He babbles on, and already she begins to tire of this conversation. He finds her gaze and holds it, pressing his lips into a line before saying;
"And... you wear your hair down this evening, my lady. I cannot stray my eyes from it," he admits, scratching his thigh. [Y/n]'s eyes flicker at his fingers, and gulps, growing hotter by the second. His compliments were delivered innocently, he would always say them like it didn't mean anything at all, but [Y/n] would take them very seriously each time.
"It's been long... I wanted to let my scalp rest for a bit." She grows conscious of her hair, brushing her fingers through it nervously. Her face darkens when she remembers an insult he told her when they first met, and meets his gaze with sassy ire. "Hold it, you called my hair ugly long ago in Rivendell!" She almost screeches and he flinches, looking to the sleeping figures around them.
"Shhh, quiet down! Do you expect me to take an insult and not return it? That would be ridiculous," he waves his hand for her to quiet down before sitting back unamused.
"Fair. I'll take the compliment for now, but don't think I won't deliver my stored insults for you someday. I have a whole list," she jabs, trying to move past the awkward 'nice' moment they had there, and he only rolls his eyes — again, not very well.
"There! You can't even roll your eyes! Haha!" She laughed, slapping her leg while rocking back and forth. Stunned by her outburst, he shakes his head in disbelief.
"I don't believe you, you're lying," he accuses but, still she laughs at him.
"Roll your eyes again,"
"Fine." He does it again, this time worse. All he's doing is looking up and blinking. She has an inkling that he can't even wink, but that one she'll have to see herself in the natural way, so she could catch him off guard.
"By the Valar, how old are you?" She wheezes, pointing at his face. He scowls, facing away from her.
"Older than you are," he grunts, but [Y/n] isn't convinced.
"So, you were born late in the Second Age?" She cocks an eyebrow unconvinced, and his eyes widen at this, surprised to hear she is close to two thousand years old.
"On the contrary. I was born in the beginning of the Second Age," he alleges, but [Y/n] rolls her eyes (correctly), then calmly tucks herself in.
"If you insist, you old toad," she yawns, getting comfortable under her blanket, and Legolas gives no response. If he truly was about 3000 years old, that would mean he was probably alive when her mother was. A young Legolas... the thought was so strange to her, so she had trouble falling asleep because instead she day dreamed about Legolas as a child, being cared for by maids and servants while running around Greenwood. Such a sweet image.
The morning was brisk, filled with an embrace of the warm sun shining through the bushes, she rises oddly well rested for once. It felt like she just had the best nap of all time. Looking around, she sees the fellowship already packing for leave, making her feel embarrassed that she had slept through it. Looking around cautiously, she sees that that the campfire had long been snuffed out and buried. Other than that, Legolas was helping the others load baggage into the boats, looking no different than he did last night. Assuming he's been on night watch, you would think he'd at least have dark circles under his eyes, but no. He looked perfect as always.
"Why did no one wake me?" She asks Gimli, who regards her calmly.
"We don't make haste, my lady, so there was no need," he explains and [Y/n] nods, appreciating that she managed to get a good amount of sleep for once. He had grumbled something under his breath, but it was too muffled by his beard to be heard well. She looks to him expectantly, thinking he would retell it, but he avoided her gaze. Passing it off as his usual morning mood, she stroked her fur blanket and relished the morning sun before sighing happily and getting up a few moments later to pack up.
Their next step was to take the boats again down the river, and [Y/n] dreaded having to get on the boats again. Jogging over with her bag to Aragorn, she spoke with him about what was happening for now.
"We make for the Slopes of Amon Hen, from there we look to Frodo to decide our path," He clarifies, and [Y/n] nods now that she understood their course. Seems everything was taking a quiet course, but an unknown dread lied in [Y/n]'s heart as her eyes would shift around the forest trees surrounding the river. They were sickened, gone brown and orange from an unknown disease the further they left the safety of Lothrlorien.
The further they travelled from that city, the more she felt like she had left Gandalf behind, as if he was merely resting in that place and she was going away to an adventure without him. The thought comforted her, as his presence was still fresh in her memory like he was still here, but she knew too well that he had taken his last breath in the depths of Moria. Looking to Legolas, she never acknowledged him for his countless acts of kindness this past week and a growing guilt took over her anytime she'd reminisce on her attitude toward him.
He had gone from a spiteful cynical man to someone she could actually call a friend now, and that was an astonishing revelation for her. She lets out a breath she didn't know she held as she walked to the boats, tossing her bag inside and attempting to get inside herself. She would have preferred to ride alone, since the thought of sharing a boat seemed dangerous to her — having to board so much weight on a flimsy wooden thing. Looking down to the glistening blue, she shuddered and squeezed her eyes shut. She can't swim.
The boat rocked side to side, making her yelp as someone entered, sitting themselves right next to her. It was Sam, who was already laying his heavy bags full of food and cooking supplies down, wiping sweat from his forehead despite it being cold. She smirks, pinching his cute pointed ear.
"Ah! What was the meaning of that?!" He exclaims, rubbing his now sore ear. She scrunches her nose, and shakes her head.
"Nothing," she murmurs contently, too ashamed to admit that the hobbits would always remind her of children even if they are fully grown adults. She likes to believe that her children will be as jolly and sweet as them some day.
Shortly after, the rest of the fellowship had joined them on the boats, and pretty soon they were back on track. Lucky for [Y/n], Legolas was put on a boat in front of her as a paddler, so she could gaze at him for the entire ride and he would never notice because he's too busy with the boat. Snickering, she got comfortable, already staring at him from from behind Boromir, who would flicker his eyes at her multiple times, thinking she was staring at him instead.
[Y/n] stopped when she noticed Boromir staring back, growing flustered that he had caught her, she panicked and pretended to stare at the sky with deep interest. She just looked like a numbskull as she feigned fascination with the empty blue sky. Boromir finally cast his stare away, shaking off her strange behaviour as nothing but curiosity — still under the impression that she was looking at him and not Legolas.
The rest of the ride was too awkward to bear, so [Y/n] occupied herself with fiddling her nails, which she hadn't had the time to take care of recently. They were growing long and sharp, a common trait for Izalith descendants are to wear the same nails their mother had, and [Y/n] refused to let the grow because of that. Her nails looked like claws at times, and seeing the pretty ladies in Rivendell who had perfect pink oval and straight nails often made her jealous. Hers blended into her skin tone and curved downwards like talons — a long time ago, before she would trim her nails she could have sworn that an Elleth had once glared disgusted at her nails, and ever since then she kept them short to avoid that embarrassment in the future.
"Frodo," Aragorn's voice whispered from above her, and [Y/n] glanced up to see him point at something ahead. A gasp leaves her lips as she looks to what it is.
"The Argonath." Two giant towering like 300 foot pinnacles stood on either side of the river, showing carved images of the Gondorian Kings of old, ancient and grand as the tales, who now loomed over the Fellowship as statues. They overshadow the boats with power and majesty. Aragorn studies the silent sentinels, marvelling at the beauty of them despite how old they appear. "Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old. My kin," he sighs, to himself.
The current guides them between the kings, and [Y/n] couldn't take her eyes off the statues till they passed them, now greeted with the sight of a mile long river ending in a vast lake. She frowns, her heart sinking when seeing the lake. It's a sign that her calm river affinity days are over and that there won't be any moments of serenity like this again for a long time.
Once again, the Fellowship clamber off the boats onto a wooded shore, and [Y/n] wondered constantly why they rested so much. She frowned as she grabbed her bag, worried that time was running out despite there being nothing to indicate it. Her heart would skip a beat every moment she would let herself ponder about the fate of middle earth being on a thin thread, ready to snap at any moment.
"What troubles you, Lady [Y/n]?" Legolas voices from behind her, and she jumps at the sudden sound. She looks to him, clenching her cloak together to stave away the cold.
"I merely wonder. Nothing troubles me," she tries to fake neutrality, but her voice trembles.
"You lie so horribly," he gives a faint smirk, which tempers [Y/n]. He never ceased to annoy her, even in the most inappropriate times. Her thoughts flashed back to Moria, how he would stare at her in amusement while they were on the brink of death by Goblins. Groaning, she swats at his arm but, he dodged swiftly.
"And, you are a nuisance!" She retorts, gulping when Legolas took a menacing step closer.
"Only a nuisance?" He pushes on for an answer she could not recognise.
"It would abhor me to think you any other way," she punches his arm firmly this time, smiling uncontrollably at him, but recoils when she is met with a look of dissidence.
"And how would one win the approval of the Lady [Y/n], may I ask? For I have done nothing but show you my respect since yesterday week," he raises an eyebrow, and [Y/n] gulps when that familiar guilt heavies her chest again. Do not show him weakness, he only aims for your arrest. Her inner voice urges.
"You call that respect?" She scoffs, flicking her head away from him and crossing her arms. Before she could let another word leave her lips, Boromir calls to the fellowship, distracting both elves to look in his direction. Sending Legolas a swift glare that read; 'we'll speak of this later', [Y/n] trodded her way to the gang, looking to Aragorn.
"We cross the lake at nightfall, hide the boats and continue on foot, then we approach Mordor from the North," he points, and [Y/n] wonders how he was able to calculate the correct direction so quickly.
"Oh, yes." Gimli grunts sarcastically. "Just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil, an impassable labyrinth of razor-sharp rocks," he gloomily adds, almost muttering it to himself. He crosses his arms frustratedly, obviously not fond of the coming task. "And after that, it gets even better — a festering, stinking marshland as far as the eye can see," he exclaims, slapping his thigh in an uproar. Aragorn remains unaffected by Gimli's outburst, and sets his bag and hilt down (but keeps his sword on him).
"That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf," is all he says, much to Gimli's dismay.
"Recover my..." Gimli grumbles, and [Y/n] yanks a tuft of his hair to which he swiftly snaps his head to her with more outrage than before. "Lady [Y/n]! I suggest you keep your hands away from my hair!" To this, [Y/n] raises her hands in defeat, still smiling.
"Very well," she silently chuckles, taking a seat beside him.
Some of the hobbits have already gone to get some firewood, while the others remained at the shore. Sam slumped asleep, and Legolas whispered to Aragorn about something. After a minute of observing him, she noticed how distressed he looked about something — how he would shift his eyes around the forest with urgency, it unnerved [Y/n into thinking they were being watched. Even Aragorn seemed uncomfortable.
Fiddling with her jacket, she became more restless at the realisation that Boromir was nowhere to be seen. Everyone else became aware of this when Merry came back questioning Frodo's absence.
"This cannot be good..." [Y/n] whispers, getting up to head into the woods, but a stern hand grabs her roughly, glueing her to her spot.
"Stay here, Lady [Y/n]. You don't know what lurks in the forest in these times," Legolas says, and released his grip realising she was in pain from it.
"And you expect me to stay put while my friend lays in the face of danger?! You ought to know me better, Legolas!" She bellows, and is given an icy glare in response from him, his jaw clenching and his fists clenching. He hasn't looked at me this way since we met. Her breath hitches at the sight. It seems they have gone back to their feisty quarrels again without dismay.
"And you ought to heed my warnings. You are far too inexperienced to go stomping in there." He almost glowers back, but somewhat keeps his calm composure and [Y/n] doesn't cower in his presence.
"We have no time to be at odds! Mr. Frodo is missing and he needs our help!" Sam chimes in frantically, grabbing his weapon and trusty skillet, setting off on his own to search for Frodo. [Y/n] looks to her feet in shame, knowing that arguing over everything will only complicate the roads of solution even more. Gimli snored softly to the far left, while Aragorn was nowhere to be seen... meaning they were alone again. She took this as an opportunity to be more honest with Legolas, hoping to mend their dispute.
"He's right. I'm sorry, Legolas... I know you mean well," she grumbled, kicking a pebble beneath her. An amused huff leaves his nostrils, and it makes [Y/n] surprised. She was sure that he would have dismissed her swiftly like every other time, but for some reason, he looked back upon her with kind and forgiving eyes. She shivers under his gaze.
"Fret not, my lady. I do not hold grudges," he responds curtly, but [Y/n] smirks condescendingly.
"I wonder then, how you are the son of Thranduil, for he loves the idea of grudges. Do you go against his wishes?" she jabs but Legolas looks more calculating than insulted.
"My fathers wishes are my command... but at times, he can be wrong and make mistakes, just like any other being that treads this earth,"
"You imply that your father is wrong?"
"Nay... for that is not entirely clear yet. You are still a mystery to me, Lady [Y/n],"
She scoffs shyly to this, feigning ridicule but in reality she was red to the ears. For some reason the idea of being a mystery to the Mirkwood elf was an attractive idea to her.
"Good. Let's keep it that way, I wouldn't want you prying into my business any more than you already do," she walks away as sassily as she could, holding her nose high up in the air. The matter of Frodo gone missing was still at hand, but she rested assured that others had gone searching for him, and decided to stick by Gimli who was still sat up against a rock snoring away.
These past few days could be described as more relaxed than usual, she even forgot her sorrows for a few moments here and there, but too many times she would hide her smile in shame after remembering his face. She must respect him in this way, to not smile and laugh so outwardly until this war is over.
Moments passed and no one had come back, not even Legolas, so she got up and began heading to the direction Sam went, hoping to catch up to him somehow, and hearing Gimli waken only made her quicken her pace. She didn't want to deal with his fiery mood at the moment, even if Gimli was a good friend, she found it irritating how feisty he could be sometimes.
Fear struck her heart when a wail came from before her, the wail belonging not to Frodo for it was too deep, but perhaps Boromir. She sprinted to the continuous cries that yelled 'sorry' in despair. She arrived to a startling scene... Boromir searched frantically for Frodo, and Aragorn interrogating him of his whereabouts. It seems Frodo ran away from him.
"You tried to usurp him!" [Y/n] points, and Boromir shakes his head violently, tears dropping from his trembling visage.
"I didn't mean to... I'm so sorry," he sobbed, and [Y/n]'s chest pranged with sympathy, knowing he meant it. There can only be one cause for this.
"The ring corrupts all... even the most noble men," she mutters, looking to Aragorn who met her gaze with the same contempt.
"We have to find Frodo," Aragorn says, and [Y/n] nods, hearing Gimli finally arrive behind them while Legolas comes in from the right, looking extremely concerned for the hobbit.
"You three, stay here with Boromir while I search for him," Aragorn sets off hastily, but not before Gimli stops him.
"For whom?" He asks, confused on the situation.
"For Frodo," He briefly replies, obviously in a hurry and then quickly continues seeking by looking to the grounds for potential traces.
[Y/n] turns to the group worriedly, a frown etched deep in her forehead. Boromir still hunched to the ground in deep regret, and it made [Y/n] sad. She walks to Boromir to give him a hand in hopes of helping him to his feet, but he refused to face her.
"I do not deserve your kindness," he snaps his hand away, but she doesn't take no for an answer.
"Nonsense! Any of us could have acted like you! You are not alone in the rings influence," she tries to convince him, but he wouldn't listen. She continues to pry, but her attention is diverted by a wary elf.
"There's... there's something astray." Legolas scans the air, readying his bow. "I hear the pounding of a hundred feet, belonging to beings heavier than normal wood creatures. There's something coming!" He draws a bow, and immediately everyone follows suit when a deep horn sounds from the woods.
"Orcs!" He exclaims and shoots at foes far from the view of their eyes. A shrill screech follows and proves it true.
Leaping down the hill, [Y/n] had no intention of getting hurt again, especially since her weapons were all the way down at the river bank! There was no way she was going to use her powers either, the thought distressed her greatly. Her feet frantically slid down the leafy floor, practically surfing down like sliding down a glacier, but stray root hooks itself around her ankle and flings her head first to a jagged rock and she thought for sure that was the end of her. Luckily, she had dodged just enough to land on her side, where only her arm dealt with the blow. Groaning to herself, she clung to her arm in hopes of calming the ringing pain that began to shoot up her shoulder, but she soldiered on regardless, hoping to get to her sword before she could meet an Orc.
"Lady [Y/n]!" Gimli's voice comes from behind her, and she gasps when she realises he was following her the entire time.
"Gimli, go back! You have to help them fight!"
"So, should you! Halt your running and turn right around!" He waves his axe, and much to [Y/n]'s horror, Orcs began to flood from behind him, snarling and gnashing their blackened canines.
"I can't! I have no weapon!" She screams, but Gimli would not hear it. He spins around and hacks away at the coming enemies, and she takes this as an opportunity to get away...
Like a coward, she let her doubts beat her down and make her crawl into a crevice between the roots of trees, deep into a hidden spot where she could avoid the conflict like a scared rabbit. She waited, till everything had gone quiet and the entire time she prayed for her friends safety, all while she remained inside that hole for the entire battle.
Hearing footsteps above her, walking slowly down the hill in front, she decided it's time to crawl out. Smiling to the figure in front of her, her face dropped when she realised it was an orc, one of considerable size looking right at her with hungry eyes.
Snarling, it pounced on her and gnashed it's teeth too close to her face, and she tried her best to push the creature off but, it was no use! She had never trained her muscles to endure such weight, so her strength was failing quickly. Is this my punishment? For hiding away like a coward? She asks herself, sobbing as she let it weigh itself down on her slowly.
"Seek comfort in your art, and take it as yours, for it is in your hand the answer that you seek."
Galadriel's voice echoes in her mind, and her eyes widen as if she was having an epiphany.
"Forgive me, Gandalf!" She cries, before summoning her last ounce of strength.
With all the energy she had left, she screamed and let go of the orc to let it fall only for a moment — for a moment was all she needed for her spell to creep out of her hands and burn it's hideous face, crawling into its blood to singe the Orc's veins, making it screech and pounce off of her flailing around in excruciating pain. It screamed and wailed, the red fire devouring it and consuming its entire body till it fell dead on the floor with a thud.
Making sure it was dead, she waited a few seconds in silence. She pants heavily, getting up after it laid undoubtedly dead, trying to balance herself on her feet, but her legs wobbled too violently so she ended up falling again. Her hands shook as a searing burn suddenly traveled from her fingertips and marked its way down to her forearms, setting itself there like stone. Her powers have grown stronger, but it ate away at her more now. She could feel it crawl beneath her skin like worms, and it... it felt good. She wanted more.
"[Y/n]?" A familiar voice snaps her out of her trance, and she quickly hides her hands away, hoping not to distraught the person behind her. Luckily, they hadn't seen it.
"Gimli... I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have ran away," she pleads, leaning to him as he approached.
"We will speak of this later," he helps her to her feet, and lead her to where the others were.
And to her horror, she had come to a corpse of her friend and many other woes.
Boromir had died. Frodo and Sam were gone... and the little ones were taken by the orcs.
Gasping in horror, she backed away at the sight of Aragorn kissing the forehead of the fallen man. Tears sting at her eyes but, nothing came out. Gimli prayed softly into his hand, and Legolas watched stoically at the scene. All of the speculations she had for Boromir were gone and now replaced with remorse, she wishes she had treated him less cautiously early on; rather than run away from him any time he spoke, she should have treated him like the noble man he was. She watched as Aragorn mourned over him in silence.
Hours later, she would watch them set him into one of the boats laying peacefully with his noble sword, letting him float away upon the waters peacefully going into the next world — knowing he fought valiantly in the end. Weeping was no use anymore. It would not relieve her pain, so why waste the energy?
Keeping a jolt in his step, Legolas pushed one of last boats into the water without breaking a sweat. She watched him silently as he looked eagerly to the shore of the other side, where Frodo had gone. He turns back swiftly, jogging to her and Aragorn.
"If we are quick, we will catch Frodo and Sam before nightfall," he declares, pointing at the lake. [Y/n] couldn't find the energy to give a response, and neither does Aragorn. Silence takes over the conversation.
"You mean not to follow them-" Legolas narrows his eyes, realising what Aragorn was doing.
"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hand," He interrupts, keeping his arms crossed around his chest firmly.
"Then, it has all been in vain! The Fellowship has failed," Gimli blares solemnly, putting pressure on his eyelids with his hand. [Y/n] shares his exact thoughts, sighing while nodding at the bewildered Legolas.
"Not if we hold true to each other. We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death, not while we have strength left!" Aragorn pulls a hunting dagger from his pack, letting it glint in the beams of sunlight before sliding it into his strap. His eyes glinted silver with determination, and this perplexed [Y/n] more than ever. Aragorn showed to be one of the most mysterious people she has ever met...
"Leave all that can be spared behind," he tosses his pack to a rock nonchalantly, and [Y/n] feels her jaw drop.
"We travel light. Let's hunt some Orc." He smirks, and Gimli cheers, jumping to his feet with a newfound passion. [Y/n] stood too, but scared out of the mind of the thought of chasing after bloodthirsty Orcs, who had just killed one of their good friends. But, isn't that all the more reason to go? What happened to your passion for protecting your friends? She battled with her inner voice while running, her eyebrows knitted together in anxious anticipation. What a coward I turned out to be... O' Gandalf, how would you think of me now? You would whack me across the head with your staff. She lets a tear fall, hiding her face from the others as they continued to rush.
She had dishonoured Gandalf's decree against her magic, Boromir's death in protecting Merry and Pippin — and now she was slowly beginning to dishonour her dear friends who ran with her. If she hadn't been a coward in battle, she could have potentially saved the Gondorian man. [Y/n]'s arms still stung with pain and she could feel it reach her elbows now, but what was left to do was obvious. It didn't matter if she had to sacrifice the virtue of Gandalf's memory, or her own life, because all that mattered now was saving her Hobbit companions and protecting those around her.
So, she ran as hard as she could, forcing her feet to beat down the earth beneath her and push past the fear that ate away at her, because from now on; she no longer mattered to herself.
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