Moonbreeze (Legolas x OC)

Part 16

When night draws upon them, they bank their boats at a suitable spot along the river. Sam is quick to build a fire and Legolas sets off to hunt their meal. Ithilae finds herself gathering wood with Boromir's help.

Boromir curses silently as he has done already for many times since they have set out into the woods. She halts, looking back at him amused. "Stubbed your toe again?" she questions with an arched eyebrow.

He sighs before catching up to her. "Yes, yes. You go ahead and laugh at my woes. Curse your Elf eyesight. The night is too dark for a simple man such as myself." he tells her playfully.

She shakes her head at him before picking up some more dry twigs and branches until she believes they have enough. They return to the camp slowly, this time Ithilae warning him in time before he stumbles over another root.

"You seem to have lightened up since we have left the woods..." Ithilae tries to strike up conversation, remembering her grandfather's words. She must learn to get to know them better so a bond of trust will form, crucial for the continuation of their journey.

"Aye." he breathes. "I apologize for saying this, since I know it is your home, but those woods were suffocating me." he admits.

She nods. "I do not hold it against you."

"Anyway, now that we are drawing closer to Gondor, I can feel my heart filling with renewed strength. I long to gaze upon the White city, my home. I just hope that we will, for I am not certain I can persuade Aragorn to take that route." he says, sighing again as his expression turns from exhilaration to dismay.

Ithilae casts her eyes to the floor in thought. Indeed that will prove difficult. Aragorn does not hold much trust in Frodo or the Ring's safety should they go there.

"Well, enough about me." Boromir states, looking to her. "Tell me, now that I have found a rare opportunity to speak with you, how are you faring now that you have left your home once more? Did you not hesitate, even for a moment to leave it behind?" he questions.

Ithilae hesitates for a moment before answering, noting that she finds it surprisingly easy to converse her thoughts to the man. "Perhaps for a fleeting moment. But there are more important matters at hand to keep me from staying." she says, fingering the Mallorn nut hanging from her neck.

"What is that?" Boromir asks, his eyes falling on her preoccupied hand.

She holds it up for him to see better. "A nut from the Mallorn tree. A piece of home for me to apparently put somewhere I see fit. It should grow to great heights with the passing of ages, to bring comforting shade for the generations too come." she explains.

Boromir looks thoughtful for a moment, his face falling once more. "What generations do you suppose will be there to behold it? With things proceeding as they are... There might be none to appreciate it."

Before she can say anything to his bitter words, they have reached the camp, making her part from the downcast man. She wishes she could give an assurance of some sort, but she knows she can't.

The next morning they set off again along the river. The air is thick today. Frodo hasn't been quite himself, refusing to eat and it worries Sam more than any.

Also, Ithilae heard Boromir and Aragorn's falling out. She feels sorry for the man to be honest. He only wants what is best for his people, even though he has a tendency to go the wrong way about it. But, she can't help but silently side with Aragorn on not going to Minas Thirith. It will only cause them trouble she believes.

The broad river narrows slightly as they cross into Gondor. The great statues of the kings, the Argonath flank the river, signaling their entry. They tower above the company, leaving them momentarily breathless before they slowly pass out of sight again behind them.

The mood has not improved much among them however when they finally halt the boats again before second nightfall. They pull up their boats on the shore of Nen Hithoel, the sun bearing down on them.

Ithilae stares at the woods in front of them with trepidation. She doesn't care for how these trees seem to loom threateningly and how the shadows dance around as if mocking her.

"We cross the lake at nightfall, hide the boats and continue on foot ... we approach Mordor from the North." she hears Aragorn say from behind her.

Gimli scoffs gruffly. "Oh, yes, just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil, an impassable labyrinth of razor-sharp rocks. And after that, it gets even better ... a festering, stinking marshland as far as the eye can see." he states, lighting his pipe.

The hobbits look at him with worry, making Aragorn glower at him. "That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf." he suggests with a raised brow.

"Recover my..." Gimli start indignantly, almost choking on the smoke from his pipe.

Legolas leans over Aragorn's shoulder, speaking hurriedly, "We should leave now." he urges. He catches Ithilae's eyes as she looks back at them over her shoulder.

"No. Orcs patrol the eastern shore. We must wait for cover of darkness." Aragorn tells him.

Legolas' eyes narrow, looking decidedly uncomfortable with the setting. "It is not the Eastern shore that worries me." he tells his friend, glancing around warily, making Ithilae turn her eyes to the forest once more. "A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near, I can feel it." he explains, making Aragorn look at him knowingly, but there is nowhere they can go at this very moment, not without being noticed.

The roar of the waterfall Rauros sounds in the background. Ithilae can't find rest like the others, so she opts for scouting the woods, seeking for a sign that their enemy is close at hand. The woods are awfully quiet though, too quiet. Not even a bird chirps and the air feels thick with dread.

Not feeling right, she turns to return to the encampment, only to pause when a voice catches her attention. It's Boromir's. Another joins him; Frodo, she identifies. Automatically she takes off in their direction.

Her pace quickens when Boromir's voice grows louder. She arrives at the foot of the outlook of Amon Hen to find them caught in a scuffle; Boromir's eyes are like one of a madman as he tries to pry the One Ring from Frodo.

"No! Boromir!" Ithilae shouts, rushing forward just as Frodo slips on the Ring, disappearing from sight.

Frodo crawls away, glancing back to see the elleth ram her shoulder into the man, knocking him to the ground. Looking up he catches Celebrimbor's eye. "Go! Quickly little hobbit!" he urges. He doesn't need to be told twice, hurrying away to hide.

Ithilae socks her fist against Boromir's temple, making him stop struggling beneath her. He seems to snap out of his madness, looking up at her wide-eyed. "W-What have I done?" he croaks, staggering to his feet as Ithilae jumps off of him.

"Frodo! I'm sorry!" he sniffles sadly, looking around for the hobbit before the elleth stops him from wandering.

"You cannot go near him anymore Boromir." she tells him, her voice chiding. She watches as the weight of his actions come down upon the man. "Come!" she orders, taking him by the arm and dragging him in the opposite direction of where Frodo must have left.