Where The Shadows Lie

His arms were crossed, he was leaning against the threshold of the bedroom and he was smirking. Shoving a dagger into her pack Alisceon awarded such aggravating behavior with a glare. “Thank you, Faramir, for your concern. It is so wonderful to be cared about.” In case he missed the cynicism in her tone she rolled her eyes at him, then grabbed for her shortsword.

Morning’s first rays were streaming in through the slightly parted drapes and the various candles she had around the room made up for any lack of illumination that source failed. She had spent the night alone and was now grateful for that, for she already felt the burden of too little sleep wearing her down. Days like these she regretted choosing mortality, but only slightly. Faramir wiped the grin off his face and sighed. “What do you want me to say, Alisceon? I know my brother, you do not. Believe me, dear, he was only being…friendly.”

“Friendly,” she repeated in a mocking tone. “He was being an ass.”

He came close to her, gazing down at her pack as if not really seeing it at all. “True, but that is just his way. He is annoyed with me and so he is annoyed with anyone I have affection for. He is probably jealous I will have company on this journey while he will be alone.” A leer crossed his expression as he fingered her arm.

Alisceon looked up into his face. “Faramir, if he hurts me or does anything personal… You didn’t see the way he looked at me.”

He laid his hand on her cheek, tracing her jaw. “I would not have to. Trust me in this, Alisceon, if nothing else. I know Boromir. He may be intimidating and insensitive, but he is no monster.”

Her brows narrowed as she shoved his hand away, then pointed him in the face. “I don’t like him, Faramir. You better keep him away from me.”

Faramir did not take her venom personally and that annoyed her just now. He grabbed her away from her packing, turned her into him and pulled her close. “Why are you so angry, hmm?” he soothed easily, pressing little kisses into her lips and cheek. His hand smoothed down her back as he pushed her down onto the bed and climbed into her lap. “You’ve been difficult all week.”

“Get off me,” she told him without much conviction.

His hands found her wrists and pinned them to the bed as his tongue dipped into her mouth. “Did he pin you like this, love?” he whispered, holding her tight. “Did he…do this?” He pressed his mouth into hers, kissing hard.

“Cute, Faramir,” Alisceon hissed, biting his lips a little roughly. He growled against her, pushing his hips into hers suggestively.

She struggled, but he held her down hard, moving her hands above her head. “Maybe he held you like this? Do you think he would have done this to you?” Alisceon felt a thrill go through her as Faramir jerked her pants open and down. She squirmed beneath his warmth, holding her legs together just for the sake of being difficult with him. He laughed at den denial and shook his head. “I will rip the lace from your hips, Alisceon.”

She pressed herself against his hand as he smoothed fingers down the center of her panties, breathing, “Oh, you frighten me.”

Faramir laughed, gripping the lace band on her left side. Fingering gently, he said, “Would you have liked it if he had done this?” and ripped the fabric from her, winning a glare. “You had best say no to that question.”

Alisceon struggled to free her wrists from his hold, but couldn’t before the shredding of the other side of her underwear. Licking her lips as he removed her lace completely she gave him a wicked smile. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? If Boromir fucked me? Something you could share with him?”

He jerked her thighs apart with a hard look. “No, love, but I would like itI fuI fucked you. I should punish you for your insolence.” Despite that his caress against her warmth was soft, teasing strokes that made her shiver. Faramir smiled, thrusting his fingers within her quickly, watching her draw her legs up in response. “Tell me you want it, love. Tell me what to do.”

Alisceon closed her eyes and arched as he pushed his fingers in slow, then drew them out again. His movements were teasing and pleasant to re, re, but maddening in the tension it built within her. “We don’t have time for this,” she whispered, shaking against his incessant caressing. The tension in her was rising.

Faramir thrust his fingers hard, winning a gasp from her. Smiling down at her flushed face he stroked his thumb against her sensitive flesh and pushed his fingers deeper. He was pleased by her fight against a throaty moan. “Then tell me you want it.”

“Fuck you, Faramir,” she growled, straining against his touch. He had stopped stroking her, letting her lay there in desihilehile he had his pleasure in watching her suffer with her want. She could not hold back. “I want it.”

He slid his fingers out, smoothing the moist flesh as he went, then opened his pants. Grabbing her hip hard, he murmured, “That’s my girl,” as he lay over her, entering with a fast, unforgiving thrust. Alisceon groaned out and wrapped her legs around his hips, arching her neck. Faramir brought his hand to her wrists and held them above her, taking advantage of her position to claim her throat with his mouth, biting as he began a quick pace within her. “I want you to moan, love.”

Alisceon closed her eyed hed held herself tense against the onslaught of movements. He was fast and intense, knowing there was little more time to spare for such activities. She started moving with him, raising herself to meet his downward thrusts. His groan was deep throated and filled her ears hotly, causing her to want more. Maybe it was the danger coming upon them or something else, but she felt herself needing this unlike before. She could not hold back her voice as the threshold of her bliss swept her into its storm. Her climax came hard, causing her to shudder uncontrollably against him and she could feel his rough hand smoothing down her throat as he whispered, “Yes, moan for me, Alisceon. Let it happen.”

She bit her lip and moaned hard, holding herself against him, heedless to anything but the pleasure. Only when he had collapsed onto her did she open her eyes, still shaking. He kissed along hhroahroat gently, then let her pained wrists go. “We should be going. Aragorn will miss us soo
“
“And Boromir?” she asked with a roll of her eyes, moving to her drawers for another pair of underwear.

Faramir slapped her bare behind as he headed for the door, drawling, “Yes, Boromir. Valar help us on this journey with you two following. See you in the Hall.”

Alisceon frowned as his presense departed. Despite the pleasure he gave her right now she was quite agitated with him, his brother and a lot of things. She supposed it all boiled down to Rivendell. That was a place she did not wish to see. She was a mortal now, had made her choice. What did she need of understanding Elves? There weren’t her people. Pulling her pants back on Alisceon looked herself in the mirror. Her hair had come undone from her braids in places, giving her a rough, unpolished look. Her eyes were half-lidded and hazy still, and her skin was flushed. Annoyed, she pulled the braids out and settled for letting her hair hang free. There was no time for this foolishness.

She strapped her sword to her hips, grabbed her cloak and shouldered her pack, abandoning her room as a maid entered to tidy things up. Outside the halls were brighter, but still dim in the sparse light of such an early morning. It was chilly and to her that was an ill omen for this whole loathsome affair. Thoughts of talking her way out of this played and replayed in her mind, but she knew she would be going. Part of her was too interested and tired of watching Rohan’s days pass by, knowing the servants of Sauron would come soon.

Rounding a corner she heard a door opening nearby and looked up to see who would be getting up so early. In the shadows a figure retreated from one of the guest bedrooms, tall and large, with light hair whose hue could not be determined in the dim—but she suspected nonetheless who it was. Alisceon crossed her arms, seeing his face become clear as he turned. Boromir regarded her as she approached, and then passed him without a word.

She could hear him following, but there were no smart quips or cold remarks. He came upon her fast enough and slowed when he reached her side. “Did you sleep well, Lady Alisceon?” he asked, his voice gruff.

Alisceon refrained from looking at him. “I slept well, Lord Boromir.” She did not ask him how he had slept. Nor did he care to volunteer it.

They traveled on in silence for some time and though she tried to ignore his presense completely, she noticed him dart her a glance every now and then. She didn’t like him walking beside her, didn’t want him anywhere near her and didn’t care for the fact that she knew absolutely nothing of his present motives. She believed Faramir that his brother would do her no harm, no real harm, but it gave her little comfort when he said, “You had best watch yourself on this trip.”

It was too early and this one phrase pushed her to her limit with him. Alisceon stopped there in the hall and watched him walk a few paces, then turn to see why she wasn’t walking with him. She decided to be very blunt with him. “What is that supposed to mean? Is that some sort of threat?”

His eyes grew hard as granite. He stepped closer, so close she second-guessed Faramir’s assurances. Gripping her arm, he hissed, “Of course it is no threat! I want to make this perfectly clear, Lady. I do not like that you are tagging along with us on so dangerous a mission and I do not like the hold you have over my brother. Your coming is a weakness to this mission, for you will distract Faramirhe Ohe Orcs are not confined to dark places anymore; they roam the countryside free and ready to kill any who cross their path. At any moment he may worry for your safety and that lack of concentration could get him or any of us killed.” He squeezed her arm hard, causing her to flinch beneath his heavy gaze. “Do not think that because you are my brother’s toy I will come to your rescue.”

He turned and stalked away, leaving her to stand there alone in stunned silence, gazing after him. Her arm throbbed where he had gripped her so hard. Swallowing, Alisceon rubbed it absently and tried to calm her rattled nerves. She couldn’t understand his fury at her or why he seemed to hate her so personally. This wasn’t just because he was annoyed with Faramir, there was something very wrong.

Alisceon knit her brow angrily, glaring down the hall at his back. She wasn’t going to be intimidated. Not by him.

*

They had set out that morning upon seven horses—two for the brothers, one for King Aragorn and another two for she and Éowyn, and two for the guards accompanying them. No time was wasted on this trip; their meals were short and shorter still were the few stops they made for rest and relief. The road to the Gap of Rohan was quiet now than Saruman no longer dwelt in Isengard. His armies of Uruk-Kai had abandoned their old keep to join forces with the Orcs of Mordor. Still, sce dce did not mean safety. The concentration upon defeating Gondor was great, but evil still roamed the land to claim the innocent and aid the ultimate dominion of the Dark Lord that now walked as a man, no longer confined to his chambers as a spirit. It could be felt, even in the peace of dusk. The leash Sauron had upon Middle-earth was tightening.

Isengard had been a dark place. There were no lights, no sounds, nothing to betray any sign of life. Despite that they had passed carefully, wary of anything that may be watching. King Aragorn claimed to have an ill feeling upon seeing the former Wizard’s tower and Alisceon had been forced to agree. It felt as though some force were watching from the blackened windows, training a gaze full of malevolence upon any soul caught within its sights.

It had unnerved Alisceon, still did though they were now beyond the tower of Orthanc. Though the peace was kept between all members of the small party she felt no weight lifted from her shoulders. Everything about this journey filled her with unease.

Faramir noticed it tonight, if he had not before. He wandered through the small camp, away from his brother’s bedroll and sat down beside her. “You’re very quiet. Are you all right?”

Alisceon cross her arms over her upraised knees and looked at the forest floor. “I’m just tired and cold. I’m not used to this.”

The reply to that little admission did not come from Faramir, but from his brother, who was lying on his back and watching the stars. “You wanted to play at being a warrior. You had best get used to roughing it or else return to your soft sheets back in Rohan.” He turned his head with a smart smile. “You may grieve my brother below the belt though, if you do not remain.”

Her cheeks flushed pink when he said this, knowing full well the others could hear. Faramir shot his kinsman a very dirty look. “You shame yourself, Brother. I am growing tired of your infatuation with your wit.”

Aragorn gave his second a stern look from where he sat with her blond cousin. “Be at peace, Boromir, or you shall return to Rohan. You had best not cause a stir in the house of my father.”

Boromir returned to his stargazing. “Far be it from me to cause any Elf discomfort. My apologies to all.”

Alisceon glared at his indifferent, unmoving form. Every day he found something to say to her, something obnoxious and rude. He had refrained from the dark tones he had used with her before, now seeming as though much of what he said were meant as a mere jibe, but she was no fool. She knew full well he meant every disparaging word that passed his lips. Faramir touched her shoulder, watching her gaze. “Do not let him bother you. He is only being a…”

Not only was she fed up with Boromir, but she was tired of his brother defending him. Wringing her hands in frustration she got to her feet and hissed, “Shut up, Faramir!” before stomping off towards the woods.

As she faded into the trees she heard Boromir grunt as Faramir tossed a heavy stick at him. During their brief visits she had often wondered why such a kind man as Faramir had not yet been married, but if this was how it was with the women he held interest in she knew full well why none of them consconsented to be his bride. Boromir was intolerable and such was his little brother’s affection that he would not stand up to him and put an end to his smart tongue. If it were not for Faramir’s general attitude towards her she would have started to think this was some disgusting game they played.

It mattered very little. Intentional or not, if Faramir thought so little of her as to defend her honor then what point was there in being his companion? She could handle Boromir herself, but she expected him to at least support her instead of trying to placate her.

She traversed the pathless way before her, heedless to the darkness that was closing in around her. Not that it would have mattered had she stopped and returned to the safety of her camp. It was already much too late for that. At first her sharp ears had been deafened by her angry thoughts, but as she began to relax a little and listen to the woods. Living in Edoras for so long, departing very little, Alisceon was not accustomed to the whisperings of the trees and of nature around her. Now it filled her hearing. She found it soothing.

But something in the shadows overran her enjoyment. The leaves in the trees seemed to shiver, putting off a rushing sound that may have veiled the breaking of twigs around her. Alisceon froze and with her the movements froze, but she could hear a faint sound of breath coming from several directions. Some small part inside thought for the barest second that perhaps this was Boromir and Faramir having a joke. She fervently hoped that was so. But there was an animal tone to the rasping breaths, air pulled into large lungs and exhaled from a deep baritone voice. Her hand flew to the hilt of her sword.

The element of surprise was gone and the Uruk-Kai bounded from the forest towards her. Alisceon lifted her blade and dodged the down stroke of an oncoming Uruk, only to be knocked down by the sheer force of the blow. She fell back a few paces and looked into the Orc’s growling face with wide eyes. He struck again and she deflected, stumbling into another that shoved her forward. On her hands and knees she looko eio either side of her, trying to determine how many she was faced with. Four. Four against one. When Alisceon felt a hard boot crush into her hip, she screamed.

“Look what we have here,” one of her assailants hissed, nudging her thigh. “Looks like a pretty little girl. Either you ever taste an Elf before?”

Gripping her sword, Alisceon swung it into the offending Uruk’s shin, slicing through his leather boot. He howled in rage as it cut through a few layers of his thick skin. “Elf whore!” another of them taunted her, bending down.

She threw herself into him, hoping to knock him off balance so she could breath through and run, but a third Uruk with a white hand on his face—the only one—grabbed her arm and squeezed, then sent his other fist into her cheek. The blow was devastatingly hard, causing an instant headache to begin. “Be still, little Elf. The pain will only last a few hours, then you’ll be dead.” His fingers gripped her shirt, ripping it open as another held her arms back. “Hold her arms out. We’ll start there.”

The one keeping her wrists captive jerked her arms out as his companion approached with his sword lifted. She struggled hard, but found little hope. When the blade touched her bicep, slowly beginning to slice down her flesh, Alisceon closed her eyes and kicked, but it did nothing helpful against the much larger enemy. “Tempting, but why not try that with seasoned warrior?”

Alisceon opened her eyes to the liquid, metallic sound of a sword being forced through armor and flesh and the wide, surprised gaze of the Uruk-Kai in front of her. The one holding her tossed her to the dirt foe to get at the one that had come to her rescue. Not taking time to see or think of who it was, she groped for her sword and got to her feet, sending it into the back of her captor while her savior took on the remaining two. Alisceon took a step towards the fray, then stopped upon seeing Boromir.

He looked at her, expecting help, and one of the Uruk-Kai punched him, sending him down to the ground. Pursing her lips, Alisceon wielded her sword and fended off an attacking Orc as Boromir tripped the other. She couldn’t watch what happened between the other two, but heard an ongoing struggle as she herself fought against the terrible strength of her enemy. The Uruk-Kai snarled and swung at her and she jumped back, but not before the blade sliced across her stomach. Alisceon cried out and her hand flew to her abdomen, feeling blood. But the wound wasn’t deep. It wasn’t deadly.

She saw the advancing Orc grin, then fall. A sword sprang up through his belly before he collapsed. Boromir stood behind him, his hair wet with sweat, panting as he looked up at her. He wiped his hand over his lips, finding blood there. “You all right?” he asked genuinely.

She was too shaken to think of a blunt reply, merely nodding her head once as she rubbed her stomach. His eyes flicked to the wound, evaluating the damage before they made a slow trail up. Alisceon looked down, then blushed, drawing her shirt over her chest. She remembered herself suddenly and narrowed her brow. “I thought you weren’t coming to my rescue.”

Boromir shrugged. “Very well. Next time I shall let you die.”

A yell in the direction of camp silenced their tongues. They both turned their heads towards the sound, then took off for it.

The camp was in chaos. Aragorn ans gus guards were battling a fearsome group of Orcs that had doubtlessly followed the party, then split from those that had attacked Alisceon. There was so much going on that at first she did not think to wonder where Faramir was. Not until she heard Boromir cry his name out, his voice filled with anguish. She stopped her advance towards the King and turned, looking for the warrior. When she saw Faramir lying on the dirt with two Uruk-Kai standing over him, she swallowed hard.

Boromir cried out in rage and attacked fiercely. Fearing for his life despite her dislike of him, Alisceon raised her sword and joined him in the fight. She avoided looking at Faramir right now, knowing it would weigh her down. Fighting the hurt from what she already knew of the situation, she struck blow after blow, hating this battle, hating Orcs and hating the need to fight.

When it was over she collapsed to the ground, tired in mind and body. She took a moment, wiping a spattering of blood from her cheek as she looked down upon the body of the Orc she had just finished off. Nearby she could hear Boromir, though she tried so hard not to listen to his desperate words. “Faramir? Faramir, are you all right? Oh God…please…don’t…don’t you leave me!” She could hear him shaking Faramir, but there was no response. Then came the awful silence.

King Aragorn approached, walking before Alisceon’s vision and stopping. His voice waft aft as he said, “Boromir, check Éowyn.”

At that Alisceon turned, seeing what she had missed. Éowyn was behind the limp form of the Captain of Gondor, blood and a bruise on her head. She opened her mouth to ask, but held it shut as Boromir abandoned the lost cause of his brother and checked on the young blond. His voice was low as he reported, “She lives.”

Alisceon watched Boromir gaze at his brother with pained, haunted eyes. She could not look at Faramir; didn’t know whether to cry or scream or just wonder why. “What will you do, Boromir?” Aragorn asked in a gentle tone, kneeling by Faramir. “Will you depart from us and carry him to Rohan?”

The Steward seemed to consider, not taking his eyes off the prone form. “I left him to rescue her. I never thought…I will carry him to Rohan, though it is not his country.” There was bitterness behind his words. Alisceon looked away from him, closing her eyes. Her weariness felt all the more terrible.

He made for the body, but the voice of a stranger caught them all off guard. “I think Rohan can do without another body, for soon it will have more than its share.” All eyes followed the sound to the source as forms came from the trees. Elves. Alisceon gasped, watching a dark-haired young man smile at the King of Gondor. “It has been long, Estel.”

“Elladan?” Aragorn said, coming forward. The Elf raised his bow with a notched arrow and the King stopped, raising his hands. “You have no need to defend against me. I am coming to Rivendell to speak with your father.”

This Elladan smiled with an expression Alisceon found she could not trust. True, she never knew any Elf other than her father, but this one seemed to have ill intent. He raised his eyebrows almost as if mocking Aragorn. “No, I do not defend against you, dear Estel. On the contrary, I and my company spotted you and come to escort you to the house of my father.” His eyes fell upon Boromir. “All of you.”

Boromir glared up at the Elf in contempt. “Go where you will, Elf. Take who you will, but I cannot leave my brother here.”

The Elf’s lips curled into a satisfied, hungry expression. “Then you shall die.” He pointed his arrow at the Lord of Gondor.

“Elladan! What madness has come over you?” Aragorn hissed, taking another step. He stopped when another Elf approached, putting a blade to his throat. The King of Gondor looked devastated by these actions. “Why do you do this?”

Instead of replying, the Elf leader looked to his own. “Bind their wrists behind their backs. Tightly.”

Alisceon drew her sword from the dirt and raced to her feet, unwilling to let this happen. It frightened her to see these Elves behaving this way. These were not the people her father had told her about. “We’ll fight!” she yelled, standing ready.

Aragorn shook his head at her. “Nay, do not fight. Our destination is Rivendell. We will go peaceably.”

The Steward had little patience neither for that idea, nor for anyt rig right now. “I will not submit to this! I will have my brother buried properly.” There was little room for argument in his tone. He had been driven too far by his grief to give in to his King now. “Aragorn, so help me…”

A sudden rush filled the air, followed by a sound that chilled Alisceon. She whipped around and saw Boromir fall to his knees, groaning. An arrow protruded from his shoulder. Alisceon gasped and moved to help him, but was grabbed from behind. “Stop this at once!” Aragorn commanded harshly. In the arms of her captor she watched the King of Gondor glare at the Elf leader. “Elladan, have you lost your mind? What would our father say to this brutality?”

The Elf shook his head, his dark braids moving with his condescending action. “Let us get one thing straight. My father is not yours. He once allowed you to call him by that title in private, but I say if you do again I will end your life without much care. Tell me, how do you think we felt when Legolas brought to us Arwen?”

Aragorn flinched, his expression becoming sorrowful. He seemed to understand the situation now as he nodded softly. “You have a quarrel with me, so be it. Release these others and I will comeRiveRivendell to hear Lord Elrond’s lament.” He looked to where an Elf struggled to subdue the furious Boromir. “And I will teim oim of your rash actions.”

Trying hard to fight against the urge to battle her way out of the arms surrounding her, Alisceon watched as an Elf hit Boromir with the hilt of his sword, knocking him out. She was afraid. Elves were highly skilled; could outlast mortals easily. Brute force would not work against their captors. Not against a group outnumbering them. Part of her hoped Elladan would settle for Aragorn, but she knew they could not leave him to such a fate. Still, her body tensed when Elladan said, “Nay. You will all go. We have many days to journey, Estel. I suggest you tell your company to behave if they want food.”

Aragorn was bound, as were the rest of them—including Boromir. The King of Gondor made a little struggle, but did nothing to threaten their Elven captors. “What will you do with Lady Éowyn?” he asked in a grudgingly deferent tone.

Alisceon watched Elladan wander to her side, bending over to see about her. When his hand stroked her cheek, Alisceon fought hard against the Elf holding her, managing to break free. But the arrows being aimed at her halted her. She saw the young Elf watching in amusement while she was bound, his hand touching Éowyn’s neck softly. His gaze flickered to Aragorn. “I will take her as my prize. She is fair.”

That brought to the King’s attention just how dire the situation was. His eyes widened in shock and disgust. “You have changed,” he whispered, not hiding his growing expression of anger.

Coming to his feet, Elladan nodded in acquiescence. “But you, dear Estel, have changed none. Still as foolish as ever. Still afraid.”

The King offered his once friend a glare and that was the last thing he did before the Elf struck him hard enough to knock him out. Aragorn collapsed into his arms and was offered to another as Elladan moved to carry Éowyn to his horse.

*

Moonlight glittered high upon the night backdrop, but could not penetrate the dense fog that had settled upon the earth. Days had passed with no food, for the party of mortals had not been as cooperative as their Elven captors would have liked. Alisceon was beginning to regret that. Her stomach felt painfully hollow. She tucked her hair behind her ear and gazed into the milky shadows, contemplating the forest beyond camp. It was no use, though. The Elves were awake. They never seemed to sleep.

“I know what you are thinking,” Boromir whispered. Ht agt against a tree, fully awake bee ofe of the pain in his arm. He didn’t get much sleep at all, she noticed. Alisceon came closer to him, sitting beside him, but facing him. The Steward looked at her without the usual malice. “Don’t try it. I’m not in any shape to get you out of trouble.”

She rolled her eyes and gripped the ties holding his tunic shut—they had taken his armor and that of the other men, along with their weapons. When he frowned, she hissed, “You want your shoulder getting infected? Let me dress it,” and he held his tongue, wincing as she peeled the bloody fabric back from his skin. Usually they were kept apart from each other, bound to trees, but tonight was chilly and as Elladan put it, ‘pitiful mortals needed warmth’, so they were allowed to lay together, allowing him to finally get treated. Alisceon bit her bottom lip, looking at the wound. Taking her shirt she gently started to clean it. “Why did you come to my rescue?”

The question brought pain to his eyes and she regretted bringing it up. “It seemed like the right thing to do,” he replied a little smartly, turning his gaze away from her.

“You said you wouldn’t,” she mentioned softly, ripping a shred of fabric from the hem of her shirt. It was small, but wound once around his shoulder to provide him with some cushion.

Boromir’s brows were knit and his jaw set as he stared off into the fog. She knew he was seeing his brother there, somewhere in the past. She almost wished she could as well, but found herself unable to think of it. It made her sad and empty inside. “Do you grieve my brother?” he whispered instead of replying to her comment. He did not look at her.

She pulled her hand away and sighed, tracing little patterns in the dirt beneath her. Her voice was low as she answered truthfully, “I miss him. He was funny and kind. He was wise.”

“Aye,” Boromir agreed, still avoiding eye contact. She wondered why, but decided not to pursue it right now. “He was those things and more. I would have died for him to live. I should have been there to protect him. But I wasn’t.”

Alisceon said nothing, unsure of whether or not he was bitter that he had troubled himself to save her. He said nothing redemptive of the fact that he had, nothing that told her he did not regret it. She supposed it was too much to ask for, given the circumstances. The silence of the woods and the quiet mourning of this usually so fiery soul weighed her down. She folded her arms and propped them against her knees, resting her head and closing her eyes, listening to the faint whisper of a soft wind.

Something hit her side. Opening her already drowsy eyes, she looked in time to see dirt hit her hip. Following the path led her to the stare of one of their captors. He had long silvery-gold hair that shifted with his pacing. “You are an Elf,” he commented, looking at her ears.

Alisceon closed her eyes and rested her head again. “What of it?”

With a grunt the Elf approached and before she could react, gripped her arm hard and jerked her up. “You will look at me when I speak!” he growled, squeezing her arm hard. Alisceon looked into his angry, handsome face with wide eyes. He seemed to calm down some, hise ble blue eyes glittering as he traveled her form. His free hand found her neck, caressing upwards until he smoothed his fingertips along her ears. His expression became suddenly disgusted. “But you’re a mortal. Pitiful.”

She jerked her arm away, saying, “I’m sorry you don’t approve.”

He wasn’t going to leave her alone yet, though. He grabbed her again, tugging her back and close to him until his warmth began to overtake the chill across her flesh. “No matter. I’m sure you have what I’m looking for.”

There was a sigh, neither from the Elf nor from Alisceon. Boromir got to his feet and said very plainly, “You had best reconsider what you are doing.” His stormy eyes were trained upon the Elf with nothing less than a confident warning.

She was whipped around and jerked to his chest. The Elf drew his dagger within the breadth of a few seconds and held it to her throat with a dark laugh that sent chills across her. “What will you do against me, human beast? There are two results this quarrel may end with. One, you will shut your mouth and I will take the pretty girl into the woods or, if you persist, I will fight you and bind you and you will watch as I rape her. Make your choice, for you will answer only once.”

Boromir took a step towards them, but halted when a voice filled the air. “Haldir!” Elladan came from the fog with an amused, if annoyed expression. “There is, in fact, a third ending. You will unhand the girl and take watch. As I told you, she is to be given as a tribute to my brother if he is at Rivendell. If not you may discuss with my father the use of her person.”

Haldir held her to him a moment longer, then shoved her down. The sound of his thrusting his dagger into its sheath sounded sharp in her ears. “Very well, if you insist.” He kicked more dirt on her. “Count yourself lucky, half-elf bitch.”

Shaken, Alisceon dusted herself off and said nothing in retort to the Elf. Boromir came to her, crouching and helping her clean off. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she said, looking up. The Lord of Gondor was certainly nothing if not a mystery to her. A smirk crossed her features. “You keep saying you will not rescue me and yet every time I’m in danger, you’re there.”

Boromir grunted and let his expression become gruff again. “Yes, and next time I shall be the one causing the danger if you do not learn to take care of yourself.”

Alisceon laughed lightly, much to his displeasure. He glared at her for not taking his threat serious. Grinning, seeing an opportunity she refused to let pass by, the half-elf put her hand on his uninjured shoulder. Boromir frowned at the h, nh, not understanding what she was doing. He was an easy target, cursing when she shoved him off his precarious balance. The large man collapsed back and having instinctively reached both hands behind him to catch himself, groaned out in pain when his shoulder bore the brunt of the fall. He said nothing after, merely sank completely to the dirt and breathed heavily.

Climbing over him, Alisceon reached for his tunic to make certain he hadn’t ripped the skin further, but he caught her and squeezed her hand until she yelped. “That is nothing more than you deserve, you insolent little harlot.”

In pain she wiggled her hand, then slammed her fist into his hip, making him wince. “Quiet, you big baby,” she hissed, yanking his shirt open. Amazingly enough he did quiet down, presumably hurting too badly to care one way or another. Boromir closed his eyes as she none-too-gently pulled the shirt fabric off his wound and checked it. Sighing, Alisceon balled up his tunic and held it down against the wound to stop the flow of blood that had begun.

Boromir hissed in a breath and glared at her, but he knew what needed to be done so he bore well enough. He became so silent and Alisceon was so weary that she nearly forgot what she was doing. It started hitting her, how real this was. How much danger they were in. Haldir had frightened her. Never had any man treated her like that. If he had succeeded in assaulting her, she wassuresure what would have happened after. And now there was the promise she would be given to the brother of Elladan. Her eyes traveled to where Éowyn slept. Still very ill, she had not been mistreated so far, but Alisceon worried for her. The Elf tended her wounds carefully and without modesty, his eyes always hungry for her. Aragorn was certain the Elves in Rivendell would bring Elladan and these others before judgment for these crimes, but she couldn’t help fearing what might become of them should that not be the case.

Her touch against Boromir’s shoulder softened after a time she noticed and snapped out of her gloomy thoughts. When she looked down, expecting him to be asleep, she was surprised to see two sea-blue eyes watching her. He held her gaze a moment, then frowned at her. Taking her hand off his shoulder, Boromir tossed it back and said, “You had better get some sleep. I will not carry you to Rivendell.”

Alisceon rolled her eyes, moving away from him. She just couldn’t understand this human.