Moonbreeze (Legolas x OC)

Part 17

Ithilae silently stands there, waiting for Boromir to cease crying. He sits on a fallen tree, his head in his hands. She does not need to tell him how wrong it was for him to do what he did. He sees that very clearly himself.

Finally he quiets down and wipes at his face, hiding the traces of his despair. "What follows?" he asks, not looking the elleth in the eye. He has come to regard her as something close to a friend and he feels he has let her down.

Ithilae sighs, shifting on her feet. "There is only one thing you can do Boromir... Retrieve your things... Go home." she tells him curtly. There is no other option but for him to leave.

Boromir runs a hand through his blonde tresses, before finally nodding. "Alright." he sighs sadly, raising to his feet slowly and straightening himself. He mentally prepares himself to face the judgmental looks of those occupying the camp.

"When your journey is over..." he starts hesitantly. "Will you not come and visit the city? I'd... I'd hate to think that this is the last we see of each other." he says solemnly.

Ithilae nods after a moment of thought, her expression rather blank. Boromir nods silently in gratitude before slowly setting off down the slope, the elleth close behind.

She suddenly freezes; making the man glance back at her is question. "What is it you hear?" he asks worriedly, seeing her face twist darkly.

"Fighting." she states before setting off in a run, Boromir close behind.

What greets their sight is unfamiliar to them. Their enemy resembles something close to that of an Orc, but taller and stronger looking. A white hand is painted on their faces. But no matter what they are, they are about to cut down Merry and Pippin.

The two jump in, blocking the swinging swords with their own, fighting them off and cutting them down when they can, but there are so many; too many for the both of them.

Boromir steps back, rising his horn to his lips and blows hard, making its sound echo through the forest. It's his call for aid and hopefully they will receive some soon before they are overrun.

"Merry! Pippin!" Ithilae shouts, snapping the wavering hobbits out of their stupor. They scuttle away, ducking down behind a tree trunk when more of those overgrown Orcs approach from the other side. They find themselves trapped.

Boromir looks back at them. "Run! Run!" he urges, knowing they are likely to get killed if they stay any longer.

He gasps when an arrow suddenly runs him through. "Boromir!" Ithilae cries out, darting towards him, only to have her path blocked. She quickly cuts those down that hold her back, but she does not reach Boromir in time before another arrow hits him dead on. To her amazement, he keeps getting up and continues fighting.

Her eyes fall on the horrid creature that shot her unlikely friend. She releases an angered yell, rushing towards him as he strings another arrow onto his bow. She does not reach him however, as a thick arm swipes her across the chest, knocking her off her feet.

She quickly blocks a blow with her sword, grimacing when she finds an ugly face hovering above her with a cruel smirk.

Gritting her teeth, she rolls halfway to her side, letting her opponent's sword slam into the soil beside her before rolling back and thrusting out her hand, clasping the side of its face. The effect is instant...

A wispy cloud seems to pour from its very pores as its eyes widen in horror. "Show me your mind!" she shouts in a twisted voice as the wretched creature's thoughts and memories fill her head; Uruk-Hai...Saruman...Hobbit...Elf woman!

The creature drops on top of her motionlessly, dead. She throws it off before jumping to her feet and rushing over towards Merry and Pippin who are being snuck up on from behind. Their eyes widen even more as they watch her approach before waving wildly at her to move.

She glances to the side, wondering what they are gesturing about, only to be hit in the temple by the butt of a blade. Her vision swims as she staggers from the blow. She can hear Boromir cry out in pain and her eyes fleet unsteadily towards him, finding him on his knees.

She cannot find her way to him or to the hobbits though as another blow hits the back of her head. She crashes face first into the dirt.

Boromir watches from his peripheral as an Uruk pick up her limp figure and follows after the two that have snatched the two hobbits. He reaches out an unsteady hand, unable to shout after them.

Movement across from him gathers his attention and he looks up to face his doom. The Uruk-Hai points another arrow at him, ready to shoot him point blank.

Boromir gazes up at him defiantly, but is ready to welcome death. His body can take no more...

Before the final blow strikes however, a cry rings through the clearing, followed by the furious figure of Aragorn.

.........

"Merry! Merry!" Pippin whispers harshly, only to receive a groan from his best friend. There is a nasty cut on his forehead.

Glancing the other way, he looks to Ithilae who is hanging over the shoulder of an Uruk. She threatened to wake a few times, but was knocked out cold again when it came to their notice.

They all seem very reluctant to be the one to carry her as they take turns. Somehow they fear her and that is probably reasonable. Pippin isn't sure what he saw her do, but it certainly wasn't normal.

Suddenly the bouncing stops, signaling they have come to a stop. They have come across a band of Orcs.

"You're late. Our master grows impatient. He wants the Shire-rats now." one Orc hisses at the tallest Uruk.

He is greeted with a growl. "I don't take orders from Orc-maggots. Saruman will have his prize. We will deliver them." he states.

Pippin casts another glance to Merry worriedly, seeing a film of sweat form on his forehead. He looks to the uruk carrying Merry as he is drinking eagerly from a flask and speaks up boldly, "My friend is sick. He needs water. Please!" he begs.

The Uruk smirks cruelly. "Sick, is he? Give him some medicine, boys!" he calls before a flask is roughly shoved in his mouth. The dark liquid spills everywhere.

Merry sputters awake, looking around in fear. The Uruks laugh at his expense. "Can't take his draught!"

"Stop it! Leave him alone!" Pippin shouts.

"Why? You want some?" the uruk from before questions threateningly, causing him to shake his head. "Then keep your mouth shut."

Once their attention is off of them, Pippin turns to his friend. "Merry." he breathes, looking him over worriedly.

"Hello, Pip." he answers in a drawl, looking up feebly.

Pippin frowns. "You're hurt." he states.

Merry waves off his concern. "I'm fine. lt was just an act." he assures Pippin, who looks at him in surprise. "See? I fooled you too. Don't worry about me, Pippin." Merry states, although the other hobbit has a hard time buying it.

"What did they do to Ithilae?" Merry wonders with a frown, seeing her motionless on Pippin's other side.

"They keep her knocked out. They're scared of her." Pippin explains before looking up as he hears a growl.

One of the Uruks sniffs the air. "What is it? What do you smell?" another Uruk questions.

"Man-flesh." the uruk answers.

"They've picked up our trail. Lets move!" the ringleader calls, putting an end to their rest.

Knowing their friends are now coming for them, Pippin makes sure no one is looking. He pulls the Lothlorien broche from his cloak with his teeth before spitting it out. It falls to the ground before being stepped upon by an unknowing Uruk.

The little broche sits there in the soil long after the band of Uruks have passed, waiting to be discovered.