They left Lothlorien later that same day, and began their journey downriver. Boromir's mood was more and more sullen and morose, the further they went. He sighed and shifted restlessly around in the small boat, looking at Frodo with a strange intent. The hobbit noticed these glances now and again, and he could feel the man staring at him when he thought he was not looking. It made him uneasy. They went to land to spend the night, and as dawn broke, Frodo woke up before any of the others and walked around on his own.
Ever since Gandalf fell, he had been worried and unsure, and nothing seemed right or certain anymore. It was like a weight on his chest, this sudden responsibility, for now he had to make his own decisions.
"And how am I supposed to know what is right and what isn't?" he said to himself sadly. "I'm not anyone important." With these thoughts in his mind, he wandered further and further away from the group, not really knowing where he was going. He knew he had to go to Mordor and take the Ring with him, and the sooner he went, the better. It would be dangerous, and it would probably be best to go alone. He had taken his friends too far already. But knowing that and accepting it were two different things. At last, he sat down on a fallen tree trunk with a sigh. And just as he thought he would get up and go back, a tall shadow fell in front of him, and a familiar voice spoke behind him.
"Hello, Frodo."
He turned around, and saw Boromir standing there, waiting.
When Legolas woke up a few moments later, he saw that two people were missing at once. That one of them was Boromir was immediately apparent, for the man had never left his side before, and to have an empty space where once the soldier's body would have lain came as a sudden shock. He got up and walked with his small, light feet amongst the others, careful not to wake them, as silent as a shadow. Frodo was not there either.
He felt a shudder go down his spine and his chest tightened. For some reason, Frodo's absence gave him a sense of foreboding. Doubtless, Boromir was with him, but instead of comforting him, this made Legoals even more afraid.
"This cannot be right," he thought to himself. And he heard Galadriel's voice in his head:
Beware, Legolas. Keep your eyes sharp. Not all men have good intentions. You should not be too trusting. Beware.
He had always thought this meant he himself was in some danger, but what if the danger was for someone else? What if it were Frodo he should be looking out for?
He began to walk into the woods, thinking quickly. 'Not all men have good intentions'. He knew this all too well himself, but surely Boromir was to be trusted? He had never know someone to be so good a friend. He cared for him. Many things had changed since that day he had spoken out against him at the Council.
And then something hit him. The Council! Of course – he had forgotten what Boromir had said – he had forgotten how proud he had been of his country, and of how eager he had been to take the Ring to Gondor, of how he saw it as a gift to the Steward who would use it against the enemy and destroy him. His pace quickened, and the fear in his heart gripped tighter. How could he not have realised? The Ring had been near Boromir all the time. He would have been watching, waiting for his chance . . . .
The sound of shouts, and voices raised in anger, came to his ears. He was near a clearing, and he kept himself out of sight in the shadows.
He saw Boromir get to his feet, his face was white with fury. The hobbit cowered before him, clutching at the chain on his neck. The tall man towered over him, his voice loud and threatening. The elf's hand went to his mouth in horror and dismay.
"It is not yours save by lucky chance!" cried the man. "It could have been mine. It should have been mine! Give it to me!" Frodo leapt away from him and ran behind the fallen trunk, shaking with fear, but Boromir was many times stronger and faster than he was and he caught him by the shirt. The hobbit struggled desperately but the man pinned him to the ground and fought to tear the chain from his neck. He would have succeeded, but the elf sprang from his hiding place and pulled him off with a cry. Despite his slim build, Legolas had immense strength, and Boromir was forced to let loose his grip. Terrified and panic-stricken, Frodo turned on his heels and fled from the clearing.
"What are you doing?" screamed Boromir, turning to the elf, his face twisted with rage. Legolas was shocked. He had never seen the man so angry. "You fool! I almost had it!"
"It is not for you," said Legolas, trying to keep his voice calm, though he was breathing quickly. "You should not have tried to take it."
"What do you know? You know nothing!" he came towards him now, jabbing his finger at him. "You elves sit around in your pretty forests, talking and arguing, but you never get up and do anything while the world crumbles around you!"
"That is not true, Boromir. I am here, am I not?"
"You think I give a damn about what you do?" he retorted, and he seethed with resentment. "Why did you jump in and stop me? You had no right to interfere!"
"It was for your own good. The Ring is not yours."
"It IS mine!" And he was so choked with rage, that he swung his fist and struck Legolas hard across the face. He was a very strong man, and the blow knocked the elf to the ground. His head thudded heavily against the earth and gravel.
For a moment, there was silence, except for the sound of the his breathing as he lay on his back. Boromir stared at him, and a mist seemed to lift from his eyes as he saw a dark bruise blooming on the elf's cheekbone.
"Legolas!" he cried out softly. "What have I done?" Legolas caught his breath and got his feet, his head spinning, but Boromir stepped back from him in shame.
"I am so sorry," he whispered. "I don't know what came over me." He sat down and put his head in his hands.
"It's alright," said Legolas, and he touched the bruise gingerly, still reeling from the force of the blow. But the man had tears in his eyes.
"I don't know what I was thinking. Please forgive me. I never meant to raise my hand against you."
"It's alright, Boromir." He sat down next to him, and put a hand on his shoulder. "You were not in your right mind. Maybe you have not been for a while, but we did not notice it. You were under the spell of the Ring."
Boromir looked up in horror. "Frodo!" he cried. "I must have terrified him!"
"He will be alright. There was no great harm done."
"What will he think of me? I have driven him away. But I would never have willingly hurt him."
"We will go find him, and you will explain and apologise. Come now."
"No, no" he moaned. "If I am near it again – I do not know what I will do – it seems to have locked itself into my mind."
"You must learn to control yourself."
Boromir shook his head. "I am not strong, like you are. Not strong in my mind and spirit, I mean. I am used to getting my way, and I thought I could just take the Ring. I thought it would make people look up to me, and admire me."
"It would have done no such thing. And people look up to you as you are."
"But I do not deserve it. I deserve nothing."
"Do not speak so!"
"It is true. Look at how I have acted! I struck you. I am as bad as the Nazgul."
"No. You are not nearly as bad."
"Yes, yes I am." He was thinking painfully of how often he had been tempted to seduce the vulnerable elf beside him. "I have a high position, but it is an accident of birth. I have done things which are despicable."
"Where does all this come from?" said Legolas in dismay.
"I think about it, sometimes, in the middle of the night. I think of all the men who obey my commands, because I am lord of the city, and of all the lovers I have taken, just because I could. And I wonder if any of them really cared for me or knew me at all."
"Boromir, you cannot live with this guilt. It will destroy you. Look what it has done already – it has made you turn to the Ring for your salvation."
"And that would have destroyed me too. I see that now. But I rush into things without thinking, because I am a fool."
Legolas took his hand in his own. "Boromir, you are not a fool. We all make mistakes, and do things we regret. We must learn our lessons from them. And you are not worthless, either. You are a brave and kind man, and your men look up to you because they respect your leadership. When the time comes for you to take the Stewardship, you will be ready." Boromir squeezed his hand, but he did not reply. His eyes were still full of hurt.
"Look how you have taken care of me," said Legolas. "Look how you have helped me to recover from what I suffered."
"I did not do much," said Boromir mechanically.
"Yes, you did. Whenever I have stumbled, you have been there to catch me. You are a true comrade, and no one can say otherwise."
Boromir forced himself to smile, and turned to face him. "I am a fortunate man to have known you, Legolas Greenleaf. I have never met a creature more noble."
The elf inclined his head. Boromir sighed. He was exhausted. The mental strain he had been under for so long had lifted, but it left him utterly spent. He still had Legolas's hand in his lap, and he stroked in now, thinking of how dearly he loved him. Perhaps this was not the right time to say anything, but then there would never really be a right time. At least they were alone together. He sat up and took a deep breath. "Legolas?" he said, his voice hesitant.
The elf looked at him inquiringly.
"I – I wanted to ask you something. But I cannot be sure it will not offend you."
"We have been brothers-in-arms for many months, Boromir. I doubt that you could say much to cause me offence." He said it gently, and so lightly that Boromir knew he could not have guessed anything of his intentions.
"Well," he replied, his brow furrowing. "Well. I wanted to say that - " He stopped suddenly, and the elf also spun around, for a great thunderous roar had chimed from close by them.
"What was that?" he cried.
"Yrch!" exclaimed Legolas, and Boromir knew enough of elftongue at least to know he meant 'orcs'.
"The others!" he said at once. "They must have been seen!"
"Hurry, hurry!" said the elf, and immediately they ran together to their aid.
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