Status: complete

Thalion Faer, Doltha Hún

Holding On

I knew not for how long I wept. My body felt like lead, anchored down to his lifeless shell with an impermeable bond. I did not, could not, ever let go. It felt like hours that I’d been here, but that could not be true. Aragorn had long since retreated, keeping Legolas and Gimli at bay as I continued to break down. I cried until there were no more tears left within me; and then I cried some more. It seemed impossible that his had happened, none of it felt real. I felt as if I were outside of my body, looking down on my own trembling figure.

There was an emptiness that filled me up; stealing every bit of happiness and energy that I ever called my own. It was not for the simple notion of his passing; it was because this was my fault. The vision I had did not serve to help him at all, he still fell. Why then did I see it? To prepare myself? Nothing could have prepared me for this. Nothing could comfort me. Boromir was dead, and it was my fault.

“They will look for his coming from the White Tower…but he will not return.” Aragorn said quietly. I still could not stomach the truth. Boromir died saving the hobbits; and now they were gone. I had to go after Uruks and slaughter every one of them. It was all I could do to avenge his death. Holding him close for the last time, I found the strength to push myself up. Fuelled by familiar anger, I picked up my weapons and set off past the remaining members of the Fellowship in the direction of the Uruk-hai’s retreat.

“Vanya,” Legolas cried out.

“I am going after them, I do not care if you should follow or not.” My voice was monotonous, my footsteps strong.

“It will not bring him back.” He said quieter.

I was hit with a mental attack that stopped me dead in my tracks, causing me to fall backwards. I collided with the ground and gasped for air as my body convulsed. Image after image bombarded my mind’s eye, drowning me with a million faces and scents and landscapes and emotions. I felt as if I were the entire world at once. I saw people I remembered, people I loved, and people I’d never met. Things were happening so fast that I could not tell past from present from future. All I knew was that I could not breathe. I was probably dying, and it didn’t even bother me.

I was being choked out of existence by my own gift, a part of me. I came to the conclusion that I didn’t much want to die, but I was drowned so deeply in it because of Boromir’s passing that death didn’t feel so cold. And so all together, I gave up. I exhaled any resistance I had and just lay on the ground, the same ground Boromir was on. Whatever energy pushed me on earlier was now gone beyond recapture; I was hopeless.

And just as suddenly as before, I felt air rush into my lungs. My back arched as I sucked life back into me before I crashed back onto the ground. Legolas was beside me, and he anxiously scanned me as I sat upright. It had been so long since I’d seen such worry on the Elf’s face; it was a foreign combination of muscle movements. Aragorn asked me if I was having a vision, which confused me. I confirmed that I in fact was not and questioned his reasoning.

“Your eyes…” He began. “They are still silver.”

“Well I am not seeing the bright and brilliant future.” My tone was dismissive, and I got up, not knowing which direction I wanted to go; after the Uruk-hai or back to Boromir.

“Come Legolas, Gimli, we shall bring one of the boats.” Aragorn said to the others as they disappeared. I quietly walked over to Boromir, slowly sinking to my knees.

“I am sorry.” My voice was no more than a whisper. “Sorry that I could not protect you. I am sorry that I did not return sooner, and sorry that I left to begin with.”

“We must hurry; Frodo and Sam have reached the eastern shore." Legolas said as they carried one of the boats to Boromir’s side. Aragorn looked up at the elf wearily. "You mean not to follow them?"

Aragorn began to carefully remove Boromir’s Gondorian arm plates, handing them to me before he and Gimli heaved up the Captain’s body. I turned away from it all, wandering a ways away as I ran my fingertips over the arm plates. Inhaling to keep myself calm, I slipped them onto my arms. Aragorn was arranging Boromir in his makeshift coffin, placing his sword in his grasp and his shield behind his head. After this the man and dwarf began to carry him away.

Legolas delicately took my hand in his and led me in the slow march behind the makeshift coffin. It was too short a walk back to the shores, too little time to grieve in his presence. Aragorn looked at me before he slid the boat into the water, as if checking to make sure I was ready to let go. In truth I would never be ready to let go; if I could, I would have stayed with him until I could no longer function. I could physically move on, but emotionally and mentally I was holding him in a death grip. I blinked once, hoping that would be enough of a signal for him to take. The boat began to drift, away…away…away.

The moment the boat reached the falls I turned away, burying myself in Legolas’ grasp as the tears came once more. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. We were supposed to return to Gondor together, reunite with Faramir and become the troublesome trio we used to be. But he would not return, and I would have to comfort Faramir once more. He was left with only his father, which was a frightening notion.

Legolas pulled me away just far enough to wipe the tears from my cheeks, kissing my forehead and giving me the security blanket I needed now more than ever.

“Hannon le.” I said quietly, and he offered a smile.

"Frodo's fate is no longer in our hands." Aragorn said, his eyes fixed on the Eastern shores where a boat lay. Boromir was gone. Frodo and Sam were off on their own. Merry and Pippin were kidnapped.

"Then it has all been in vain!” Gimli cried. “The Fellowship has failed."

"Not if we hold true to each other.” Aragorn said turning back to us. “We will not abandon Merry and Pippin to torment and death. Not while we have strength left." His words sparked hope within the hearts of the trio, but I felt nothing. I had the desire to go on only because I did not wish the hobbits to suffer. I felt no burning desire to tear down the Uruks; I wished only to go home…

"Leave all that can be spared behind. We travel light. Let’s hunt some Orc!"

"Yes!” Gimli roared. All that I really needed was on my person already; my weapons, my canteen, and my needle and thread. But each of us grabbed a pack, throwing all that was unneeded away and keeping only the lembas bread.

Aragorn lead the way into the forest after the Uruks, followed swiftly by Gimli. Legolas offered his hand for me to take, and with a final glance at the waterfall I took it, interlocking our fingers as he gently pulled me after the others.

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It was amazing the physical feats one could do once all care was abandoned. We had been chasing the Uruk-hai for three days and two nights, without stopping for food or water or rest. At first my muscles ached, my eyelids were heavy and my lungs constantly yearned for more breath. But at some point such trivial things ceased to be important. My entire being became numb and I pushed on out of habit.

The road was difficult; for it was not a straight path that we followed. The Uruks were relentless; trekking over hills and rocks and many challenging terrains. But through it all we pursued, knowing that if we gave up it would result in the death of the hobbits. I thought it likely that the hobbits were taken from us in hopes that one of them would be bearing the ring of power. And, as soon as it was figured the hobbits they had captured did not, they would be swiftly killed.

I did not wish to stop. I wished to push on for days, weeks even in pursuit of the Uruks. Rescuing the hobbits was the only thing I could afford to think of. I kept in my mind their faces; their voices and their laughter. I needed to rescue them; I had to save them. If I truly wanted to, I could have looked into their futures. But I wanted nothing to do with my powers. I pretended they did not exist.

Every now and then Aragorn would read the signs of the earth, a footstep in the ground or crushed grass. Once already we had passed a pile of dead orcs; but they were not our adversaries. We had stopped for a moment to decipher this, deciding that the Uruks had met with some Northern orcs and got into a quarrel.

Legolas’ keen elf eyes could see our quarry for some time, but eventually they were beyond even his sight. We came upon the bottom of a valley, and Aragorn motioned for us to stop (much to Gimli’s delight). He wandered a ways off of the path and hunched down on the ground. Into his hands he placed something, and upon turning back to us he revealed an Elven brooch; the same one that all of the Fellowship had been given.

"Not idly do the leaves of Lorien fall." Aragorn said quietly, tracing his thumb over the shiny surface.

"They may yet be alive." Legolas said hopefully.

“They are alive.” I said simply, my voice weak from not having spoken. I took the leaf from Aragorn’s hand, closing it within my palm and taking advantage of the break to catch my breath.

"Less than a day ahead of us, come!"

"Come Gimli! We are gaining on them." Legolas cried to the dwarf.

"I'm wasted on cross-country. We dwarves are natural sprinters. Very dangerous over short distances."

We had continued on until at last the third night came. We were atop a hill with a grand view of our path, but the sun had long since departed. The air was cold and our shadows faint and the four of us stood atop the grassy hill top with heaving chests and weak limbs. Many leagues were between us and the eastern wall where we had stood at dawn.

“We have come at last to a hard choice.” Aragorn said to the three of us. “Shall we rest by night, or shall we go on while our will and strength hold?”

“Unless our enemies rest also, they will leave us far behind, if we stay to sleep.” said Legolas.

“Surely even orcs must pause on the march?” Gimli questioned in awe.

“Seldom do orcs journey in the open under the sun, yet these have done so.” Legolas said gravely. “Certainly they will not rest by night.”

“Well only by day we can see if any tracks lead away. If a hobbit should escape, or if one should be carried off then we shall never know it by night.” Gimli protested.

“That is true.” Aragorn said. “I said it was a hard choice. How shall we end this debate?”

“You are our guide.” Gimli said. “And you are skilled in the chase. You shall choose.”

As much as my body ached, I wanted to push on. I did not want to risk a moment further of the hobbit’s peril. I wanted to have them back in my presence where I could look after them; guard them from the terrors in this quest bigger than the both of them. The three of us waited in silence as Aragorn debated, and at long last announced his decision.

“We will not walk in the dark.” He said finally. “The peril of missing the trail or signs of coming and going seems to me the greater.”

“We have sworn, and not lightly. This oath we should keep.” I said strongly. “We are threatened with many evils, and treason not least; but one thing is not said: that we shall suffer from cowardice, from cravens or the fear of cravens. Therefore I say that we will go on, and this doom I add: the deeds that we shall do shall be the matter of song until the last days of Arda. Let not the yearn of sleep cloud our path.”

“Sleep! I feel the need of it.” Gimli said with newfound energy. “Yet my axe is restless in my hand. Give me a row of orc-necks and room to swing and all weariness will fall from me!”

“If the moon gave enough light, we would use it.” Aragorn protested. “My heart burns me too, and I wish to go forth but in darkness we will miss signs like an Elven brooch. I must rest a little to run the better. And if we are to rest, the blind night is the time to do so. Now come, let us sleep.”

I sighed, removing my pack and collapsing to the ground. Legolas sat beside me, and I was thankful for his presence. It was so disheartening, thinking of how wrong everything was. We were all still supposed to be together; the Fellowship of the Ring. All of us risking our lives for Frodo and for a free Middle Earth. But instead we were all separated, facing our own individual woes.

“You should eat, Vanya.” Legolas said quietly.

“I do not feel the need of it.”

“Then sleep.”

“Nor do I much feel the need of that, Legolas. I need only to push on and rescue the hobbits. Only then can I be at peace.”

“Your eyes are yet silver.” He remarked after a moment of silence. “Please Vanya, sleep while it is possible.”

Sighing once more, I laid down on the cold grassy ground. He smiled, laying beside me and kissing my forehead. He whispered for me to sleep, and I closed my eyes. It felt almost instantaneous that my body gave in; mind diving into the deepest form of sleep and my muscles basking in the rest.

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I awoke with a start, my chest heaving as my lungs struggled for air. I felt the beginning of a vision coming forth, but I fought it, getting up and walking away from the others sleeping. It was a terrible feeling; trying to stop the premonition. It was like battling yourself. I trembled as I collapsed onto the side of the hill, doing all I could to stop any images from entering my mind. I was doubled over in pain, every part of me at war with another as tears began to fall from my eyes.

“Vanya,” Aragorn’s voice was anxious and alert, his arms bracing my shoulders as the feeling slowly retracted. I took in shaky breaths as I recovered, eventually sitting up on my own accord. His eyes were dousing me with pity and I shrugged it away, looking instead at the ground we sat on.

This had all started because of my nightmare. I had been reliving my last moments with Boromir over and over and over for the entirety of my slumber. Only, unlike before, I saw the arrows pierce him each time. Again, and again, again. It was so painful it stirred me from my sleep; only for my mind to deliver me into yet another challenge. But I did not wish to see any more visions of the future; for they were serving to be nothing but destructive.

“Why do I have these visions if I cannot stop them from happening?” I asked weakly.

“Boromir’s death was not your fault.” He replied quietly. I could not handle it. It was hard enough to think about him but to hear his name, to hear someone speak of his death, it only caused another breakdown. I couldn’t help but fall forward, wrapping my arms around Aragorn’s neck as the tears continued to come. He hesitated before gently placing his arms around me as well.

The problem was all of this was my fault. It was my fault Boromir was gone, it was my fault the hobbits were kidnapped, it was my fault Frodo and Sam, two little hobbits from the shire, were now making their way alone down Emyn Muil. It was my fault that I left Boromir in the first place, all those years ago. And it was my fault that even though my thoughts were of Boromir, I was in the arms of Aragorn. This was Arwen’s love, the man I was supposed to look out for—not fall for.

“Come, there are still hours until we move on.”

“I do not have the heart to sleep once more.” I replied, at last freeing him of my grasp. I wiped my tears, turning away from him and fixing my eyes on the landscape to be conquered. I drew my knees up against my chest in hopes to keep contained this sickness-like sadness. I had not experienced such dismay since my father passed, and it had been so foreign to me until now. Aragorn stayed where he was, turning to look out at the distance just as I.

“You need rest, Aragorn. It is you who leads this chase, not I.” My voice was quiet, half buried in my own grasp.

“You will not be able to give chase if you have not rested.” He protested.

“Please Aragorn…” I breathed, trying to keep my composure. I turned to look at him briefly. “I will make due.” He hesitated before nodding, going to leave. Without thinking my hand moved to his cheek, holding him before me for a moment longer. Upon realizing what I was doing, I quickly removed it, saying a quiet thank you before turning away quickly.

He departed from my presence and I retreated further into myself, praying that we would soon find the hobbits.
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In response to Prop 8 being overturned :

GANDALF

Legolas Bitch Face

:] messages anyone ?