From what Lady Galadriel had told her, Rowan took it as permission to change the story she knew. She would ensure Boromir didn't die, for the storyline was changing regardless with Gandalf dead, and her being here, too. And him being an original member of the Fellowship would surely help further down the line. The Company had already lost one; they didn't need the grief of losing another.

Even though they all noticed her uplifted demeanor in the morning, only Aragorn took her aside to ask why. Rowan told him what Galadriel said—freeing her of the burden of the wizard's death and strengthening her resolve to continue this mission. She told him about Boromir's death; her plan to stop it, and the party of Uruk-hai that should be chasing them. Because she could no longer accurately predict their future, he promised to help her maintain the ruse of foresight.

As in the movie and the book, the elves of Lórien gave them the use of three slender boats to travel the Anduin and brought gifts. Standing in a line, each member of the Company received a hooded cloak. It appeared a forest green, but when they moved into another light; the color changed depending on the surroundings. A brooch designed like a leaf fastened the cloaks at the neck.

"Never have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people," Lord Celeborn said. "Remember that these cloaks are garments, not armor—they will not turn shaft or blade. But they should serve you well: they are light to wear, warm or cool enough in need, and will keep you out of sight of unfriendly eyes, whether you walk among the stones or the trees."

Lady Galadriel handed out gifts next. Rowan stood at the end beside Boromir; she knew what everyone else received from her, but couldn't remember what he got in the book. When the Lady of Lórien stopped before the Gondorian captain, she handed him a finely woven belt of gold. She wondered how that would assist them in the days to come.

"Dearest Rowan," Galadriel began when she reached her. "To you I give the Bangle of the Anduin. As our mightiest river, it invokes and strengthens the hearts of all who gaze upon it. Trust that it will not lead you astray and will provide a way when your path is lost."

Galadriel opened a hand to reveal a beautiful bracelet with the central design resembling the star-like flowers at Cerin Amroth, wrought on a double-gossamer chain of silver. Small diamonds and sapphires sparkled like the stars. The bracelet's simple design was marvelous.

Rowan held out her hand so the lady could fasten it around her wrist. Twisting her hand to admire how the cuff caught and reflected the light, she felt strengthened and invigorated just by looking at the bracelet. So lightweight, she could barely feel it on her skin.

"Thank you, my lady."

After everyone received their gifts, the Company set to preparing the boats to leave. Rowan would ride in Legolas and Gimli's boat. The elves assisted them even further by loading the boats with supplies. One of the many minor items she helped load was the lembas in leaf-wrappings.

She heard Legolas explaining the Elvish waybread to Merry and Pippin. One bite was enough to fill a grown man's stomach. He moved off and Merry scooted over to Pippin, sitting on a large mallorn-tree root.

"How many did you eat?" Merry asked.

"Four," Rowan answered before the other hobbit could. She gave them a wistful smile before moving off; a hobbit burped behind her.

With everything stored away, the elves wished them luck, and they loaded into the boats. Rowan sat in the front with Gimli in the middle and Legolas at the back to steer—she also held a paddle to help if needed.

Leaving Lothlórien was hard, but Rowan knew they couldn't stay sheltered in the Golden Wood forever—they had to re-enter the danger of Middle-earth. The Ring wouldn't be destroyed if they never left.

For two days, their trek down the Anduin was pleasant. On either side, the green trees were filled with chattering birds. Rowan spotted a doe and her foal getting water on the bank at one point. Even though she never grew bored watching the wildlife, Rowan would paddle now and then to give Legolas a break.

"I have taken my worst wound at this parting, having looked my last upon that which is fairest," Gimli suddenly said. He sighed. "Henceforth, I will call nothing fair unless it be her gift to me."

"What was her gift?" Legolas asked.

"I asked her for one hair from her golden head... She gave me three."

Rowan smiled—she had always liked that part in the book. The meaning of her giving three hairs traced back to The Silmarillion. Fëanor, Galadriel's uncle and the greatest elf-smiths ever who created the Silmarils, practically demanded a lock of her hair. But seeing the darkness in his heart, she refused. He asked her three times too. So, for a dwarf to ask for one and receive three meant loads. Gimli's simple request showed his desire for friendship with the elves when discord has divided the elves and dwarves for thousands of years.

On the third day, the serene landscape changed. Trees on both sides of the river thinned; those on the east grew sickly—too skinny with ashen bark—and the gentle hills turned rocky. The trees on their right hadn't become discolored, but now lacked thickness, and the land grew yellow with many hills. Wildlife diminished to just birds as well—crows and ravens.

Most discomforting was the oppressive feeling of a shadow growing over them. Rowan felt like eyes followed them down the river. She knew what lay ahead with the Uruk-hai and Boromir's potential death, but she longed to jump out, swim to shore, and go back to Lothlórien. Knowing the future and still head toward it was harder on her than she realized.

And Boromir himself—he was changing, too. When they made camp for the nights on the bank, his talk steadily grew harsher; he kept trying to persuade them to go to Minas Tirith, and he snapped at everyone. Him muttering to himself in his boat with Merry and Pippin carried over the water. Rowan wished she could comfort him, but he had to lose control over his desire for the Ring and attempt to take it from Frodo so he would leave for Mordor. It hurt watching him suffer.

Paranoia became thick. Resting peacefully was impossible, for they had changed their routine of making camp on the bank to sleeping in the boats with someone on watch. When it came her turn to keep watch, Rowan was so nervous something would attack. Every rustle of the leaves, splash of water, abnormal sound in the dark forest, or creak of a boat as someone shifted in their sleep made her jump.

On the eighth night, through Aragorn's worry of orcs, he convinced the others they should travel with the cover of darkness. Before they could paddle off the bank where they had beached the boats, his words stirred a memory.

"Wait!" Rowan called out as loud as she dared.

"What is it?" the Ranger asked.

"Have you foreseen something, Rowan?" Sam asked.

She hesitated. Rowan couldn't exactly remember what had happened in the book, but the possibility of it—or something worse—happening had made her stop them. If she said the wrong thing here, they'd definitely know her foresight story was a farce. Best to remain vague.

"There might be danger ahead. I can't be certain we will be attacked, but your words, Aragorn, echo those in my vision." She wished there was enough light for him to see the meaning in her eyes. "My foresight hasn't proven too reliable..."

"But it has before," Gimli stated. "If you believe there is danger, we should not chance it you could be wrong."

The hobbits were all in agreement. Boromir and Aragorn discussed going on, anyway; Legolas remained silent. He had suspected her foresight story from the beginning. Rowan desperately hoped she wasn't wrong about her warning or he'd nail her.

The men finally relented, and they remained in the boats on the bank. All seemed to have their eyes toward the south, looking for the danger Rowan warned of. With the passing of each minute where nothing happened, she felt the eyes of each member of the Company turn on her, heavy with disappointment. Any second now, Legolas would crucify her.

Dread suddenly fell upon Rowan. Movement brought her eyes up; a dark shadow appeared over the moon and looked to grow closer as it flew toward them. A deadly cold seized her heart and had her paralyzed with fear.

The boat moved ever so slightly as Legolas jumped to his feet, drew an arrow, and shot it toward the shadow. Shrill went the arrow from the Elven-string. Almost above them, the winged shape swerved. There was a harsh croaking scream as it fell out of the air, vanishing down into the gloom of the eastern shore. Far away, many voices cursed and wailed, and then silence.

***

No one moved or seemed to breathe, eyes glued to where the shadow disappeared. After a while of waiting, Aragorn urged them to paddle upstream a way. They found a small shallow bay and awaited the dawn in the boats.

"What was that?" Pippin whispered.

Rowan remembered now. "A Nazgûl atop a Fellbeast."

Boromir drew a shaky breath. "I saw one many years ago near Mordor—the warmth was stolen out of my body. I never dreamed of experiencing that again."

"Praised be the bow of Galadriel, and the eye and hand of Legolas for bringing down such a creature!" Gimli said as he munched on some lembas.

"Who can say it hit?" Legolas asked.

"It came no nearer, so the shaft must've struck."

"Praise must also be to Rowan, who warned us of such danger," Aragorn added.

"Aye," Gimli agreed as he leaned forward to pat Rowan on the shoulder. "You continue to guide us to safety, my lady. Never doubt your gift."

But it's not a gift. She has assisted them, but it being based on a lie twisted her insides. Rowan longed to confess—if only to ease her guilt—but there was no reason for them to know different.

Even though she said they shouldn't be attacked again, no one slept that night.

***

Fog rolled in overnight. With no more sign or sound of the Enemy being close, the Company set off down the river again. About midday they came upon rapids and had to take the boats on shore, then carried them past to smoother waters. Nothing else happened the rest of the day and they camped on a bank to get some sleep.

It rained on the ninth day. The Elven-cloak the elves gave them kept Rowan mostly dry. Fortunately, the drizzle didn't last the entire morning and when the skies cleared, she gaped at the sight before them.

Two great kings of stone stood on either side of the Anduin like sentries. Each had their left hand raised palm outward in a gesture of warning; they held an axe in their right hands, and each wore a crumbling helm and crown. The Argonath was just as jaw-dropping and intimidating as in the movie.

They drifted past the stone monoliths and into a circular lake. Far before them sat a tall pillar of stone with the water running around it. The waterfall roared loudly.

The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring movie played before her eyes as Rowan looked upon the Falls of Rauros—all she could see was the boat bearing a dead Boromir slipping over the edge. She was determined not to have that scene repeated.

"Behold Tol Brandir," Aragorn said, pointing south to the tall peak. "Upon the left stands Amon Lhaw, and upon the right is Amon Hen, the Hills of Hearing and of Sight. In the days of the great kings there were high seats upon them, and watch was kept there. I hear the endless voice of Rauros calling."

After ten days of paddling, the Company was finally back on land and fixing to begin the next leg of their journey.