Estelwen's hand hovered over the Ring. It was a weight, a burden, but it only drew her in. Hers to bear. Hers. The Ring pulled at her soul, its smooth gold reflecting visions and feelings of success. Her stress was gone. Ecstasy delightfully filled its absence. How could I have doubted it before? The task that was meant to be mine from the beginning.

A memory flashed before her eyes. Daurion stood in front of her, frustrated, questioning her resolve. Her own voice answered, "The look in Frodo's eyes told of an inner strength that he was born with. No training could have given that to me. If he needs an extra pair of swords in this quest, then that is what I'm willing to be."

The words were clear, even when the memory disappeared in a haze. Estelwen's eyes flitted up to Frodo's. He looked concerned, but did not close his hand. With her mouth slightly agape, Estelwen dropped her arm to her side. Her mind was filled with haunting voices calling her a fool, a coward, and a fraud.

But the truth burned through them all. Estelwen could not deny it. She was not strong enough. If I were to take the Ring, I would never be able to separate from it the way Frodo is about to do. She sunk to her knees in defeat. "This cannot be."

As soon as the decisive words left her mouth, something of the Ring's pull on her lessoned. It was still there, but now, there was room for her thoughts. She knelt before Frodo just as she had done in Rivendell. She spoke slowly to show there was no trace of doubt in her mind. "Frodo, our destinies are measured not by our skills, but by our hearts. No one is more capable than you."

"Then I know what I must do." His hand closed tightly around the Ring. "I told Aragorn to watch over Sam."

Estelwen closed her eyes. It was tearing her apart, but deep inside she knew that she could not go. The draw was simply too great. Still, it was so much to bear, so much for one person to carry. "Frodo, you do not have to do this alone."

"I know, but this is my choice. Estelwen?"

"Yes?"

"Whatever the elf is going through, make sure he knows the same."

Now she was confused. "Legolas? What should he know?"

Frodo smiled patiently. "Make sure he knows that he is not alone."

"What do you mean-"

An orc bellowed nearby. She could hear it crashing through the trees, only a dozen feet away.

"Get down!" Estelwen shouted as she shoved Frodo towards the boat. She withdrew a steam of water and froze its tip to imitate that of a spear. The tip was barely formed when the monster jumped from the trees. Estelwen threw it at the massive orc and rolled out of the way before it landed on her. She tossed her hear behind her head and wished she had tied it back or braided. She ducked under a blow and grunted in frustration. Her 'spear' had not hardened enough to kill the orc. The elvish blades rang as she pulled them from their sheaths. She stabbed one sword into the orc's gut and let it remain while she swung around and sliced deep into dark flesh with the other. It roared in agony as it sunk to its knees and fell face-down.

Estelwen kicked the orc over and retrieved her other sword. Why is this one so large? These must be of a different kind then the ones we fought in the mines. It also bore a strange white handprint on its head. She remembered that these were the orcs Lord Celeborn warned Aragorn of.

"Frodo!" She turned around.

Frodo was already in the boat with his small pack.

"Stick to the shore and travel upstream before you cross. If you cross here, they will certainly see you!" Trusting that he would listen, she spun around, sheathing her swords. Her hands needed to be free for her to use her power. Three one-foot streams of water rose from the river. Their tips began to harden, but stopped midway as Estelwen felt her energy draining rapidly. Must I always be in a near-death experience to do this? Frustratedly, she dropped two but held onto one. Using her skill, she formed the desired shape and froze the whole piece. It was now an ice dagger.

Not as effective as a sword, but it will have to do. She tucked the dagger behind her belt. She scurried into the woods, hoping to find the rest of the company before the orcs found them.

*****

Legolas shot dozens of orcs with the skill of a seasoned warrior. Yet, he was beginning to panic. There are too many getting past us! Aragorn and Gimli also fought within sight, stabbing and smashing the over-sized orcs. One thought remained in Legolas' mind until it took over all his thoughts: Estelwen. She, and her telling him to watch over Boromir. What if the others do not know of the orcs? His mind was screaming impatiently now. Estelwen does not have the ears of an elf. They will have no one to warn them if they are ambushed! He glanced at Aragorn and Gimli, who were successfully thinning out the orc party. After shooting through the neck of an orc behind Gimli, Legolas bounded through the forest towards the camp. He sprinted past where Boromir had been and noticed something was missing. He has taken up his sword!

He soon spotted Estelwen in the center of a flurry of steel, fighting at least half a dozen orcs. Apparently, they were so furious that they could not kill such a small creature that they stopped running downhill with the others just to ensure her demise. Legolas shot one in the head and raced to her side, unsheathing his elven daggers. Estelwen thrust her left sword into the orc in front of her. "Where is Boromir?" she cried before jerking her sword out.

"I do not know. But he has taken up his sword again."

"Thank the Valar!"

Legolas ducked under an orc blade that was a hair too close. It clearly did not expect the elf to have such reflexes and its momentum spun it around in half a circle. Estelwen pushed off a tree and flew through the air, decapitating it in a single swipe. Legolas stabbed the last two orcs with his knives, flinging their bodies away.

"More remain ahead!" Legolas warned. A deep horn sounded through the trees. Estelwen looked worriedly at Legolas. "Have more come from the river as well?"

"No." Legolas' eyes darted to his right. "It is the cry of Gondor!"

Estelwen's heart pounded as she started to run. A thin arrow grazed her neck and lodged itself into a tree trunk near her head. Angrily, she pulled out the arrow and slung it at the shooter in the neck. More orcs were coming from uphill, running down towards the sound of Boromir's horn.

"Go! I'll hold them off!" Legolas commanded.

Estelwen did not hesitate, did not doubt that a few orcs were more than Legolas could handle.

She was horrified by what she saw. Merry and Pippin were throwing rocks and stabbing with their daggers at the dozens of orcs beginning to surround them. Boromir hovered near their sides protectively with one crude arrow lodged in his chest. Being in Rivendell taught Estelwen much. By the looks of it, the arrow was right above his heart. Orcs were still pouring from the trees, and she had no choice but to try and thin them out. Boromir was too surrounded.

As Boromir fought, he saw the orc pack's leader. There was no doubt that this one was stronger, broader, and more fierce-looking than the rest. Boromir swallowed as he continued to fight. Only one thought kept him going. He would not fail these two hobbits, their minds still unspoiled by the treachery he had committed earlier. They still believed in him, but so did Estelwen. Her eyes never condemned him, but were so willing to believe that he could do something right, even after what he did.

Somehow in the battle, Estelwen met Boromir's eyes. Something passed between them and suddenly, she knew that he knew he was going to die. She started screaming at him through the chaos. "No! You cannot give up!" But then, she saw the orc leader, stringing an elegant black arrow that did not match the crudeness of its bow. The arrow's strange, thick iron filled her with dread, making her pause – a fatal mistake. She barely had time to duck underneath an orc's sword, before one metal-covered arm knocked her aside. Spitting out leaves and blood as her stomach faced the ground, she could feel the sword plummeting through the air towards her unguarded back. She flung herself away and around, cutting off its arm in the process. She ended the orc in a fatal slash before grabbing her ice dagger and slinging it towards the orc leader. It roared as it pierced a crack in its armor, but it let the black arrow fly, regardless of where it would hit its target. Estelwen let out a bloodcurdling cry as it sunk into Boromir's midsection.

Empowered by her rage and blinded by her sorrow, she threw herself into the orcs. She stabbed, slammed, and dodged, barely thinking about what she was doing as her tears flung into the air. Her peripheral vision told her that Aragorn had taken on the orc leader, but she was not sure. She only knew that nothing but her dead body would stop her from killing every orc that she saw. Legolas and Gimli were now visible as they finished off the last of the orcs.

Estelwen's eyes pierced the forest, ensuring that all the orcs were dead. She suddenly realized that they couldn't possibly have killed them all. In fact, a good portion of them seemed to have disappeared. Merry and Pippin are gone! And so is Sam! Her gaze fell to headless orc leader, and then to Aragorn himself, who was on his knees, listening close as Boromir sputtered his last words. Estelwen threw her swords down and ran to them.

Boromir closed his eyes, each breath struggling to come out.

Estelwen collapsed to her knees. Every vein in her body screamed a promise, an oath that she would never let another fall in such a way, especially anyone she knew. A whisper escaped from her soul, inadequate, but unable to be contained. "I am sorry for failing you."

Boromir coughed and the corner of his mouth twitched upward, as if attempting a smile. Death held him in its grasp, stuttering and breaking up his words, but Estelwen could still make out what he said. "You have done more for me than I ever could've done for you, for this Fellowship. Farewell, Estelwen."

And with that, a son of Gondor breathed his last.

Aragorn placed his hand gently on Estelwen's shoulder. "He thanks you for believing in him."

Her glassy eyes peered into his. He is holding something back, something that does not concern me. "What else did he say?"

Aragorn hesitated. It was not the time to tell her, nor anyone. Boromir's last words had challenged him to be more, to be everything he was born to be, and not to let the white city of Gondor fall. He broke away from her gaze, replying, "That the elves named you well." 

Alrighty now, unlike a few LOTR fanfics I've read, I don't believe Boromir is some bloodthirsty, power-obsessed maniac. I think it's crazy some fanfics draw him out to be that and even worse. No, I don't have a crush on him, but I think he has a lot of good qualities: dedication, bravery, etc. But he did have a fault, just like everyone else, and fell to it. But in the end, he returned to his main purpose, to fighting to protect those he cared about, including Gondor. 

So what do you think about Estelwen? Should she have at least given carrying the Ring a shot?

Now, quick party note,

Scaled, my first fantasy novel inspired by The Little Mermaid (with a streak of the supernatural genre), is now published! If you like mystery, hanging-off-the-edge plots, empowering women and break-out-of-the-cliché men, then I dare you to check it out. Link is below!

https://www.wattpad.com/story/122363932-scaled