For Pride, For Gondor

III

Legolas closed his eyes, feeling the weight of the Ring bringing him down. Even though the load he bore caused him hurt, he knew that his life was small in the comparison to the suffering that would transpire if he were to fail in his task. Reaching his fingers to the nape of his neck and following the cool chain down to where the Ring lay, he rested upon his heart. He fingered it, resisting the urge to slip his finger through. Though the wont was strong, he thought again of the harm that would come to pass if he was to allow his mind to be poisoned by such a vile object.

"Well Mister Legolas, it seems we're heading to North Undeep, least that's what Strider says," Legolas snapped up, taking in the greenery on the nearby shores. "Yes, it would seem." Legolas trailed off, his mind yet again wrapped up in thought of the Ring.

Legolas lightly hopped out of the boat he had shared with Sam. His feet scuffing the rocky shore, he walked over to where Aragorn, Gimli and the Hobbits already sat.

The sun was setting, and darkness was gathering around the Fellowship. One by one, each of his companions retired to sleep. Legolas stayed awake, on watch. Hearing the soft crunching of pebbles beneath feet behind him, Legolas turned around, seeing Boromir standing behind him. "Why are you awake at this hour?" Legolas started, before Boromir quickly dashed forward, covering the Elf's mouth before he could make a noise. Boromir grabbed a piece of cloth that he must have had enclosed in his hand and shoved it down Legolas' throat. Dragging the Elf up by his tunic, Boromir discarded all of Legolas' weapons, concealed and visible. "Walk." Boromir growled in , obviously trying not to wake the Fellowship.

The pair walked along the river until they found a place where the river was thinnest. As they crossed Legolas saw the sun rising and his Elven ears could pick up alarmed cries as their Company woke to find their Ring-Bearer and the Man of Gondor gone. Legolas assumed Boromir was taking him to Minas Tirith, a dainty prize for his father, the Prince of Mirkwood bearing a trinket that would seal the fate of Middle-Earth. Denathor would use the Ring, his city's interest at heart but the Ring poisoned the purest of hearts, and through his ignorance he would destroy not only Gondor, but the entirety of Middle-Earth itself. 

A/N

Yes...another short chapter...I know :(

Also probably an unpopular opinion, but I hate Frodo and wish he had actually died...HES JUST SO ANNOYING (not elijah wood, hes good, just frodo)