In the Ruins//Legolas

Chapter 24; Saruman Is, Once Again, a Bitch

"Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people. May these cloaks help shield you from unfriendly eyes." The Fellowship packed the supplies they received from the elves of Lothlórien into four small boats.

"Lembas." Legolas smiles at Merry and Pippin, who watch him stuff each of their knapsacks with a ratio of their overall supply. "Elvish waybread. One small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man." The two hobbits nod, impressed looks on their faces.

"How many did you eat?" Merry mumbles to Pippin, not noticing Durion filling up their waterskins nearby.

"Four." Pippin sighs and Durion snorts. They set off on the river, leaving Lothlórien behind.

"I have taken my worst wound at this parting, having looked my last upon that which is fairest. Henceforth I will call nothing fair unless it be her gift to me." Gimli sighs, eyes cast downwards. Durion and Legolas exchange amused looks.

"What was her gift?" Legolas asks.

"I asked her for one hair from her golden head. She gave me three." Shock was evident on the faces of the two elves, for the only other who asked for such a gift was Fëanor, creator of the Silmarils, grandfather of Celebrimbor, Durion's own ancestor. She, however, refused his request, stating that she had seen darkness in his heart. Durion can think of no one more fitting for the gift than Gimli. They float along the Anduin the whole day and stop on the banks of the river for the night. Something in the water startles Boromir, and he nervously places his hand on the sword by his hip.

"Gollum. He has tracked us since Moria. I had hoped we would lose him on the river. But he's too clever a waterman." Aragorn stands next to the other man.

"And if he alerts the enemy to our whereabouts, it will make the crossing even more dangerous." Boromir squints into the gloom of the water.

"Have some food, Mr. Frodo." Sam sits down next to Frodo, offering him some Lembas.

"No, Sam."

"You haven't eaten anything all day. You're not sleeping either. Don't think I haven't noticed. Mr. Frodo-"

"I'm all right."

"But you're not. I'm here to help you. I promised Gandalf that I would."

"You can't help me Sam. Not this time. Get some sleep." Frodo turns his back to Sam and the blond hobbit looks defeated. He looks towards the others, catching Durion's eye. The elf shakes his head, sadness in his eyes. There is little they can do to relieve Frodo of the burden he carries.

"Minas Tirith is the safer road. You know that. From there we can regroup. Strike out for Mordor from a place of strength." Boromir turns to Aragorn fully.

"There is no strength in Gondor that can avail us." Aragorn shakes his head.

"You were quick enough to trust the Elves." Boromir raises his voice. "Have you so little faith in your own people? Yes, there is weakness. There is frailty. But there is courage also, and honor to be found in Men. But you will not see that." Aragorn attempts to walk away, but Boromir grasps his arm. "You are afraid! All your life, you have hidden in the shadows. Scared of who you are, of what you are."

"I will not lead the Ring within a hundred leagues of your city." Aragorn snaps and the whole Fellowship turns to them, watching the two warily. They don't speak for the rest of the evening.

***

The next day of floating ends by the foot of Amon Hen. They start setting up camp at the beach of Parth Galen. Durion crouches by Sam and starts helping him prepare some warm dinner.