Thalion Faer, Doltha Hún

Sleep was no longer a right, but a luxury. For hours I remained in a state of consciousness; the desperate spot where one was completely awake but desired so deeply for the refuge of sleep. But it did not come. Instead I had taken to wandering into the forest a great deal; far enough that my exploding inner battles could not be heard by my companions. I did not weep; it did not seem right to shed tears over such a self-induced dilemma. Rage was the outlet in which my emotions embodied themselves.

The first thing I did was practice. I had the sword given to me by Arwen tight in my grasp, flinging it wildly around me and slicing young branches off of the trees. My mind was hit with the familiar sensation of foresight; and I gave in. I let the feeling consume me, and in doing so I was thrust back into the world of black. My strands of vision- inner and outer eye- separated. I could see the green lights forming trees around me, as well as the clear vision of the shire.

The flora of the shire is in full bloom, all the hobbits out and about. One familiar hobbit, though, is visible. Meriadoc is holding the hand of a small boy, who is holding the hand of a woman. They are a family. They walk through the dirt roads of the shire with smiles on their faces and laughter in the air. They are happy.

After the vision left me I couldn’t help but smile; it was a lovely sight. But it did not free me of my conscious. Something else, however, momentarily did. I noticed that in the darkness before me there were more colours. The green representing trees had shifted to more of a brown, and the background was no longer solid black, but different shades of it.

Sighing, I took one of the necklaces given to me by Lady Galadriel from beneath my clothing and held it up before me. I brought from my memory the very vision I did not wish to have, and focused on it painfully. Then, exhaling, I released it into the vial attached to the chain. The vial was full of the silvery substance, and the memory was faded in my mind. Slipping it once more out of sight, I laid down on the ground.

I did not know how long I was alone with myself for, but eventually my vision faded back to normal and I stopped fighting. It felt like hours, and I assumed it had been due to the setting of the moon. To the east, the skies were beginning to change. Brilliant shades of blue, pink, orange, and purple came into view reaching across the sky.

Eventually I became aware of another presence. I imagined I would like quite comical; I was lying on the leaf-covered grounds, dancing my fingers along the edge of my sword, and eyes glued to the branch-obstructed sky. I did not much mind who it was visiting me; for if it were the battalion of orcs trailing us then I would have heard them. But it occurred to me that it may be one of the two people in all of Middle Earth I did not wish to see for the moment.

“Have you not slept?” Legolas’ voice danced through the air in a taunt, allowing me to release a sigh of relief as he lay down beside me.

“I do not much feel the need of it.” Came my reply as I curled up against him. In hopes to avoid any questioning as for the reason I asked him a question. “What lays ahead in our journey?”

“Every league we travel south, the danger will increase. Mordor Orcs now hold the eastern shore of the Anduin."

“But we are on the Western shores, and do not need to crossover.” I said, looking up at him.

"We will not find safety on the western bank. Strange creatures bearing the mark of the White Hand have been seen on the borders of Lothlórien, as Haldir relayed. Seldom do Orcs journey in the open, under the sun, yet these have done so." He said wearily. Sitting up, I looked at him with worry.

“What does this mean?”

“Mín aphadar aen.” He breathed. It was difficult to fathom that we were being tracked, but not so hard once I gave it a deal of thought.

“We should go. Now.” I said, sheathing my sword and tying up my hair. Legolas swiftly rose to his feet, halting my exit for a moment’s time.

“Do not bear the life of this Fellowship on your shoulders, Vanya, for it will only succeed in your destruction.”



We had been on the Anduin for most of the day, granted breaks from paddling when the current was strong enough to carry us. Since Legolas spoke with me I was preoccupied with the thought of battle. The knowledge that tens of orcs were coming after us was unnerving for the sole reason that the hobbits may be in danger. But I knew that we had an advantage. By taking the Anduin we were quicker than our enemies.

We came around the bend of the canyon and were bombarded by the immensity of two statues before us. They were carved out of the cliffs on either side of them and higher than them still. Their left hands were outstretched, bidding us a warning of what was to come. We were nearing the Falls of Rauos, and had to slow our pace in order to maintain control of the boats.

“The Argonath! Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old. My kin." Aragorn said proudly, his quiet voice echoing off of the cliffs and water back to us all. I had nearly forgotten that the Argonath resided on the Anduin, but it was a sight to see indeed.

The Falls of Rauos appeared before us as we passed through the old marker of Gondor’s borders. The kingdom had been greatly reduced since their construction in the third age, but they served as a reminder of Gondor’s days of glory.

We approached the western shores of the Anduin, the boats crushing up against the rocky beach. For the briefest of moments, I could have sworn I heard the familiar whispers of the ring. It was, as I later reflected, the likeliest of explanations. However, I ignored them and instead got out of the boat, my feet submerging into the icy waters. Most of the fellowship did the same, working as one to pull the boats all the way out of the water.

Only after this was complete did the hobbits risk moving in the boats. I helped Frodo out, making sure he had his pack and sending him off with the others while I helped to unpack. Unlike before we would need to gather everything; for we would not be taking the boats any further. It was as we were unloading that I realized how much baggage we had. Too much. Tonight I would rifle through our belongings and try to see if anything could be left behind.

The problem was that most of it was food. With four hobbits and a dwarf with us, food was the most essential possession. A great deal of the food we had was lembas bread, which was very light. I would talk to the others to see what could be left behind. The Fellowship began to set up camp, settling into spots along the rocks.

“We cross the lake at nightfall. Hide the boats and continue on foot. We approach Mordor from the north." Aragorn said as Pippin began to eat.

"Oh, yes?!” Gimli challenged. “It's just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil? An impossible labyrinth of razor sharp rocks! And after that, it gets even better!" Pippin looked up in dismay. “Festering, stinking marshlands, far as the eye can see!"

"That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf." Aragorn replied calmly. Gimli grunted in response, grumbling as he joined Pippin in feasting.

“Is that really our road, my lady?” Pippin asked meekly, eyes wide as he looked up at me. I smiled, kneeling before him.

“Master Gimli is making a fuss out of nothing. Our path is not one through the shire, dear Peregrin, but it is not through the lands of Mordor either.” Standing, I crossed over to Legolas. He was standing at the edge of the woods; eyes scanning the trees relentlessly.

"We should leave, now." He said aloud to Aragorn.

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

"It is not the eastern shore that worries me.” Legolas said with anxiety. And then quieter, “A shadow and a threat has been growing in my mind. Something draws near… I can feel it."

Legolas was never wrong with his intuition, but this worried me. I had thought that because we were taking the boats we would be outrunning the orcs. But Legolas thought otherwise. Part of me was happy, for fighting was the only time that I was at peace. However, I knew the danger this presented in terms of keeping the hobbits safe.

"No dwarf need recover strength! Pay no heed to that, young Hobbit." Gimli said sternly to Pippin as I left the Elf. Merry came into the camp, carrying a bundle of wood. I took it from him and began to arrange it for the fire we would make soon. The hobbit looked around, confused, before speaking.

“Where’s Frodo?”

His words jolted me, causing me to look around feverishly before realizing that Frodo was in fact gone. All of the Fellowship was present: Legolas, Aragorn, Gimli, Merry, Sam, Pippin...But not Boromir. Although it bothered me to feel worried, I did. Boromir did, after all, desire to take the ring to Gondor. I shrugged off such a ridiculous notion, knowing that my Boromir would never do such a thing. But looking over at Aragorn, I saw that he sported the same worry.

I immediately got up, taking painfully calm steps into the woods. I did not wish the others to know the alarm I felt, the urgency that forced me forward with great haste as soon as I was out of their sight. Frodo could be anywhere, Boromir could be anywhere. If I found either of them, all would be well. I cursed myself with each step I took for letting Frodo out of my sight. He was my responsibility, and if he was harmed in any way it would be my fault. What was worse was entertaining the idea he may be hurt by Boromir. What if the ring had been whispering to him as we came onto the beach? What if it was forcing him to do terrible things and—

"I see your mind!” Boromir’s voice boomed in the distance. “You will take the Ring to Sauron! You will betray us! You'll go to your death and the death of us all! Curse you! Curse you! And all the Halflings!"

My feet pushed forward faster than before, following the sound of his voice. He had stopped yelling, and instead sounded as if he were whimpering. I came over the top of a hill and saw him, hunched over himself, muttering apologies and looking more vulnerable than I had ever seen him before. I knelt before him cautiously, hesitating before reaching to tilt up his head.

“Boromir…What has happened?” I breathed. He took a few more shaky breaths before composing himself.

“I…I tried to take the ring from Frodo.” He said quietly. I swallowed my shock, knowing it was more important to coerce him back to his senses then pester him. “But it was the ring, Vanya. I…I was not myself…”

“But you are now, yes?” I risked. His eyes finally met mine, and I offered a smile.

“Forgive me.” He whispered.

“I must go find Frodo, Boromir. Go back to camp and help the others with the food.” I meant to get up, but he grabbed my hand.

“It was not my intent…”

“It was not your fault, Boromir.” I said seriously before slipping my hand from his and running off to find Frodo. I doubted that he would go back to the others; he would instead seek solitude in the forest. I ran and ran and ran, leaping up a hill with determination to find the hobbit. And suddenly, I collided with him. He had tears welling in his eyes, and I knelt down before him.

“They are here.” He said desperately, causing my heart to skip a beat. I nodded once.

“Go back to the camp and hide with the others.” He hesitated before nodding, and meant to leave; but I stopped him. “I am sorry, Frodo. He did not mean it…”

“I know. Thank you, Vanya.” And he was off, scurrying down the hill to safety. I took a deep breath, wondering how long I would last against the Uruk-hai alone. I came over the top of the hill, seeing a stone structure before me as well as a familiar face. Aragorn was drawing his sword, preparing against the mob of Uruk-hai advancing slowly. I tightened my hair, walking up beside him and drawing my twin daggers. He looked surprised to see me beside him.

“Trying to keep them all to yourself?” I taunted, cracking my neck before saying my phrase of courage. Sinte ú achas, óre ú achas.

Never before had I fought any Uruk-hai, but I had heard of their ways. Their breed had been elves once, tortured beyond any point of recognition. This meant that they were no ordinary orcs; they had some skill with a blade. They would have some foreign form of strategy that would make them more difficult to fight than the average goblin or orc. They grinned as they approached us, leisurely strolling up.

Suddenly they charged, Aragorn and I doing the same. There was one moment’s time where I wondered what I was thinking before I flung myself at them. Some of them had shields and armor, but it was weak. They proved as no obstacle. The more we cut them down, the more came. I realized that I in fact saw no end to them. But something else was more pressing; they were trying to get around us. As if our lives weren’t the ones they cared for.

There were so many of them that we were pushed back to the stone structure and forced up the stairs. Even though there were more of them than us, Aragorn and I were magical together. As if we could predict one another’s moves, we fought almost like one.

“Find the Halflings!” Cried one of the Uruk-hai. “Find the Halflings!”

Half of them began to diverge away from the two of us, running off past us and in the direction of the camp. I panicked, fighting harder than before to get through them. Legolas and Gimli appeared, helping to tame the battalion of Uruks. During their momentary distraction, Aragorn leapt from the top of the structure onto a group of Uruks, disabling them as I swept in and killed them all.

“Aragorn, go!” Legolas cried, taking down multiple orcs with a single arrow. I helped Aragorn up and followed him as we chased after the orcs. Legolas and Gimli soon followed and we worked as a team to destroy them. With each step one took closer to the hobbits I grew angrier; for it was one more failure on my part. I felt my arms and legs grow weary, but it only gave me more reason to push on. I wanted to protect the hobbits; I needed to protect them.

Everywhere I turned there was another one to kill. I’d stab, slice, stick, puncture and decapitate my way to victory. There was, of course, the occasional Uruk that would catch me off guard; locking me into a nearly dangerous position of possible death before I swiftly took care of it. We were taking a great deal of them down, and even as we pushed further down the hill it was only a carpet of dead Uruks we left behind.

But something happened next that stopped my heart. From the distance, three solid blasts of a horn could be heard. I knew at once what it was, and Legolas’ announcement confirmed my knowledge. The horn of Gondor. Again I was hit with the image of Boromir lying on the ground, the leaf covered ground beneath my feet right now. It was here, this was it. How had I not noticed it before? How did I not make the connection?

“No…No, no, no, no, no!” I cried, panic taking a hold of me as tears welled in my eyes. I ran. I ran faster than I had ever run in my life. Leaping over dead Uruks, cutting some down as I went, I pushed on and on and on. But it was as if the Uruk-hai knew my desperate desire to get past them; for they were like a wall between me and Boromir.

I was locked in combat with no less than three Uruks at a time, fighting frantically to get past them. The horn sounded again and my heart continued to sink. This could not be the end. I had to save him. I had to. I watched in horror as more Uruks flooded down towards the source of the noise. I was getting sloppy with my work, sustaining more injuries than I would have liked; but it was so difficult. Aragorn appeared beside me, killing some of my adversaries.

“Go, Aragorn!” I cried, struggling to keep up with all of the Uruks. He shot me a confused look, and I met his eyes just long enough to breathe out a last plea. “Save him."

Just as I broke free, I heard the hobbits cry out. Running as fast as I could down the hill, I stopped in horror. The battalion of Uruks was retreating, and Boromir was on his knees before an Uruk. It was holding a loaded crossbow, aimed directly at my oldest friend, my first love, my Boromir. I could not control the shriek escaping my lungs as I began to run towards him. The Uruk didn’t even flinch, merely growling and preparing to release. And then, out of nowhere Aragorn dashed towards the Uruk, knocking him down before the final blow could be delivered.

I crashed to the ground beside Boromir as Aragorn and the Uruk leader battled in the distance. Boromir was lying on the ground, arrows protruding from his chest just as I had seen. His breaths were strained as I took his hand in mine, tears flowing ferociously down my cheeks.

“They took the little ones.” He choked, only causing me to cry more. My hands trembled as they reached for the arrows deep within his body. “Leave them.” He said, grabbing my hand. “It is over.”

“No, it’s not.” I sobbed. “You cannot leave, not like this.”

“I have done all I can for the Fellowship, Vanya.”

“I will not just let you die!” I cried, leaning closer to him. “I have to save you.”

“Vanya…You already have.” He placed his hand on my cheek, my unsteady breaths matching his. “If these are to be my last moments I only ask two things of you.” I tried to stop the tears, but they just kept coming. I shook my head, unable to come to terms with the fact that this was …it. “Please.”

How I found the strength to answer was beyond my comprehension. “Alright.”

“Tell Faramir that I loved him, and that he needn’t be scared to disobey father.” I nodded. “And know that I have always loved you, Vanya.”

This only succeeded in breaking me even more. Here we lay, old friends, old lovers, all beaten and bruised and bloodied up; and divided by something more terrible than distance. Death was the wedge being put between us, dragging us farther apart the closer I moved. Aragorn knelt on his other side, and Boromir turned his attention to him. I wanted to call him back to me, I wanted to have these last moments all to myself; but he deserved to speak to whomever he wished.

"Frodo! Where is Frodo?"

"I let Frodo go." Aragorn said quietly.

"Then you did what I could not. I tried to take the Ring from him."

"The Ring is beyond our reach now."

"Forgive me. I did not see it. I have failed you all." I continued to cry, clutching his hand dangerously tight. Each moment that pressed on, every word he spoke and every strained breath he took furthered my destruction.

“No, Boromir, you fought bravely!” I stuttered through my sobbing. “You have kept your honor."

"I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you I will not let the White City fall… nor our people fail!" Aragorn said strongly, striking a light of hope in Boromir’s eyes.

"Our people? Our people." Boromir said, nodding. He then reached out for his sword, which I gingerly placed in his hand. He held it to his chest and reached his free one to my cheek. “Look after her, Aragorn, in my stead. I will no longer be able to see her…sense her…or dream her.”

A fresh wave of sobs hit me, and it took all of my strength not to topple over. I did not want to let him go; did not want to spend a single day not seeing him. I felt foolish, now. Having foreseen this doom and not having spent as much time as possible in his presence. Reminiscing, laughing, being together. For now I could do none of these things. I would never again look upon his smiling face or feel his embrace.

"I would have followed you my Brother… my Captain… my King!" He said, his breathing slowing down. In a last attempt to savor the moment, I leaned down and slowly brought our lips together, my tears colliding with his cheeks, his final breath cascading my face. Pulling away, he froze; cold. The life was gone out of him.

He was gone.