(media section is a good background for this chapter it's instrumental listen pls trust me)

I'm going to go out on a limb here and say that most people have probably never been in a situation where they've been staring down a corrupted copy of one of their friends, and been genuinely considering ending that person's life because it's either that or the fate of a mysterious fantasy realm falling way out of balance.

Tierra was one of my few trusted companions back in the Earthean Realms. To be seeing her like this- to even be in this situation- was both so absurd and so painful that I had to take a second and question what I was really doing here. If I fell into another existential crisis, so be it.

If this were a movie, this is the part where there'd be some sort of slow motion shot where it's basically a freeze-frame except my eyes are darting around and you can see some brooding conflict in them. There are voice overs, audio clips from emotional memory scenes the audience was already shown. I shut my eyes tightly and reopen them, unveiling a new determination and a channeled rage. The audience gasps- the hero is steeled.

It is what I had to do. Time felt sickeningly slow, every movement like pulling through a thick molasses only amplified by all the doubting thoughts that could fit in as it took place. I could feel the seconds dragging across my skin. My hand gripped Faith, and the other Fury. Maybe this was a chance to end it once and for all- Galadriel's spying, Losseiriel's unnatural transformation, forces trying to undo what I was trying so hard to have redone.

My grip tightened. My arms tensed in preparation for the backswing.

I lunged forward, blades singing as they cut the air.

She was gone.

In all honestly my initial thought was WHAT the BLEEP, which was scolded by the telepathic talking bird Mathilmen and censored for... reasons.

My backup initial thought consisted of a jumbled mess of Is this Galadriel's doing?  with some She knows I was ready to kill her... and the obvious Oh crap when I threw myself off balance with the empty swing.

I quickly rushed to a rock a few feet away where Boromir was. Fallen? Resting? Who knows.

"You were... going to.." Boromir quickly began coughing up blood. I didn't know what to do. I was worried to prop him up in case it led to the blood filling up his lungs, I was afraid to lie him on his side in case his heart pumped the blood straight out of his body anyway. He was going to bleed out and I couldn't do anything.

I grabbed at whatever living leaves I could find in my immediate proximity and began crushing them up and stuffing them over the places where I had foolishly ripped out the arrows. Stupid, I thought, stupid stupid. You're never supposed to rip out the arrows.

Pe-channas! [idiot], I whispered at myself between suppressing cries, dôl gîn lost [your head is empty].

I pressed harder on the wounds in an effort to keep them from bleeding excessively, but realized I was probably causing Boromir a great deal of pain more than he was already dealing with. There was blood pooling on the ground. I saw it and lost the strength to hold back my tears. I looked up to the forest canopy, looking for what- I don't know. Boromir was a good man. He didn't deserve to die. He didn't deserve to-

I was brought back to the archery grounds in Imladris. With Legolas and the targets and the bow and the deer. The deer that didn't deserve to die. Aragorn.

Aragorn would probably know what to do.

Mathilmen, I tried my hardest to focus my.. thoughts, or whatever this was, on her, Mathilmen I need your help.

And why am I supposed to help you, exactly? Her voice echoed back, but I couldn't locate her anywhere in the surrounding trees. She was incredibly eager to put in her two cents when no one asked for it, but the second I needed her she was playing this game.

"BECAUSE BOROMIR IS BLEEDING OUT, MATHILMEN. BECAUSE THE FELLOWSHIP IS FALLING APART." I screamed this into the woods.  Boromir was going unconscious and I was focusing my mental efforts on not crying and blocking the bleeding. "Because no offense, but I do not believe that you're Galadriel's number one priority if she sent two spies after me."

That is what got her reaction.

"I know- I know that the Lady of Light doesn't believe I was the one the prophecy spoke of. I get that she wants me to leave." I sighed, groaning on the inside. "You're supposed to make sure that happens, am I not correct?"

You are correct. Mathilmen landed on a branch above Boromir.

"If you help with- no, if you help me, I'll return to the Earthean Realms like she wants." I stood up so that we were face to face and looked her in one menacing hawk eye. "If you help me complete what I am bound to here- the Fellowship, the vanquishing of evil, etc etc, leave out all the prophecy tidbits- then I'll go peacefully when they are done."

She cocked her head as if she had misheard me.

"That is what she wants, right? It's your duty to see this through?"

Not what you are pledged to here. Rhoevien, your ties and promises in Middle-earth mean nothing when you stand back and look at the big picture.

I was about ready to punch her, in one menacing hawk eye.

Your cut thread will not unravel the tapestry, no matter how much you want it to.

"I-No! You're wrong. It doesn't matter if I wasn't the chosen one,  save the oohs and aahs for Anoron if he wants them. I was still brought here. And by Elbereth," I laughed, "I was born here at some point in time. Pulling me out of this world and throwing me into another one isn't like cleanly cutting a thread."

I'm surprised at just how badly you want to pull apart this tapestry I speak of.

"Cut it with the tapestry crap! Boromir is dying we just need Aragorn or the elven kings or anyone around here who I know you are fully capable of reaching."

Mathilmen was suddenly a flurry of wings and razor feathers. A gust of wind threatened to knock me unsteady, but I planted my feet firmly where they were on the ground.

"Get Aragorn. Quickly." I forced my voice to be as stern and steady as it could be.

The writhing mass of feathers grew larger until it was nearly as tall as me, and Mathilmen threw her wings open with such force that the leaves scattered from the nearby branches. I looked her dead in the face, wind whipping my hair across mine. I hoped to conjure whatever steely determination and power that manifested when I was making up my mind about Losseiriel. It must have worked. The bird of prey shot above the canopy trailing leaves in her wake.

No more favors.

---

The combination of sleep deprivation and nearly going into hysterics twice left me in an iffy in-between state once Mathilmen left. There was nothing I could do but wait. Eventually I dropped down and sat back against the rock Boromir was lying on. I could easily see the wound in my leg. I rested my elbows on my knees and tried not to think about it. My shoulder was hurting me. The energy rush and frenzied mental static of jumping from battle to battle began to wear off, and the pain of my shoulder started whittling it's way out of the back of my mind.

I pulled out the ring Lady Galadriel had given me. Knowing her true stance on the matter of Me, her accompanying message seemed pretty cryptic. Find where your heart truly lies. Maybe it was some sort of trick to make me homesick for the Earthean Realms. Everything back there is steel. I had to hand it to her though, the braiding was gorgeous. The shapes reminded me of how I'd braided Legolas's hair outside of Moria. (I tried my best to ignore the recurring fact that I had retold them the story of Frozen, it was a choice that haunted me.)

Legolas.

How was he? Where was he? Was he with Aragorn and Gimli and coming back when Mathilmen brought the Ranger? No. He wouldn't.

Unlike a certain someone (me) he seemed solely dedicated to the cause, and would probably continue chasing after the hobbits even if other problems arose. I felt like my life was a never-ending series of sidequests and I was letting everybody down by taking too much time. Who was I kidding? I'm not letting people down, I'm indirectly shaping the fate of Middle-earth.

I managed to retain a faith in Legolas that I could only dream he had in me.

And now I was faced with the question: What exactly was that faith? And what did it mean for me? (The addition I was trying to force out of my mind was "What did it mean for us?" which I didn't even want to think about the possible answers to.)

Boromir's bleeding was slowing and he seemed alive. I hoped it meant that the bleeding was stopping, not that his heart was slowly going out. He never exactly came-to, but he was only passed out, conscious enough to be considered living.

"Rhoevien!"

That wasn't Aragorn's voice. Threats of what I'd do to Mathilmen if she didn't bring him back right when I was starting to forgive/understand him began surfacing, but were soon quelled when I actually recognized the voice.

"Rhoevien! Odulen an edraith [I'm here to save him]!" It was Legolas.

"We are here, actually!" Aragorn shouted. The three hunters broke through the trees just ahead, Mathilmen tailing closely behind.

No more favors.

Gimli was the first to drop to Boromir's side. He took one of his hands in his own and pressed it against his cheek as if to tell its temperature. Aragorn began inspecting my makeshift patches over the arrow wounds. I had to look away when he began prodding at the flesh.

"I don't think they were poisoned," he said.

"What?" I looked back quickly to see him looking thoughtfully at the flesh surrounding one of the wounds.

"You were right. The arrows were meant to look poisoned." He turned from where he was crouching to talk to me. "That brown resin I pointed out?" He tossed one of the broken arrows in question out to me and I caught it. "That's not poison. They were trying to split us apart, to break our fellowship, like you said."

For the first time I felt like he looked at me with respect.

"You were right, Rhoevien."

That was a change from "that she-elf" which I could accept.

In that pale afternoon we set out again. Boromir was bandaged as well as he could be and was able to hobble along, albeit with limited arm movement. Legolas searched the riverbanks and found that Frodo and Sam had both crossed the river, a greater relief to me than it should have been to any of us. I suppose knowing they were following some sort of storyline was better than not knowing at all. We decided collectively to go after Merry and Pippin, but none of us knew just how far we could chase them together. Boromir was mobile, but even the small groups of orcs we encountered proved difficult to maneuver through.

Nightfall was approaching and we were close to the edge of the forest. Aragorn said that we should try to make it there, at least, before we stopped for the night. A small band of maybe five orcs was closing in from the East. Legolas sensed them before any of us did, firing an arrow that whizzed past my ear just in time for me to grab my blades. It was a struggle protecting Boromir while fighting through even such a small pack. I was filled with dread knowing what we would face on the other side of the final treeline.

A/N:

well-earned legolas fluff scene stuff coming next chapter I prommmmiissseee but for now rest well knowing Boromir isn't dead (if that does it for you)

tbh the entire dragon age inquisition soundtrack is 🔥🔥🔥 the song linked is "In Hushed Whispers" if the video isn't loading you can look it up I guess

I'm using sindarin from now on in conversational scenes because that's the only one I actually speak lmao (also I was reading up and stuff and I'm joining in that quenya is basically the elvish equivalent to latin and I feel like the characters using it here are more likely to use Sindarin as opposed to the plethora of dif. elven languages) SO if you were wondering where the "Quenya" or "Sindarin" notes at the end of translations went: it's all Sindarin (don't ask me what strain pls I'm trying/dying)