Okay... So I skipped ahead to where Boromir dies.... if I get enough people telling me they don't like it, I'll change it. To be honest, I really couldn't think of anything romantic that could happen between Bree and Moria, except holding hands in the dark; lame.

Here goes nothing!

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Sria's POV.

I hung helplessly onto the Orc's stinking neck, my hands bound together. I glanced groggily over at Merry, who had a nasty cut across his forehead. Every event since Bree flooded my mind.

Strider led us away from Bree to Rivendell, where I had volunteered to leave with the Fellowship. I had not seen Merry often during my stay in Rivendell, though I stayed with Frodo for a long time while he recovered from the stab of the Morgul Blade. Gandalf had returned, though he gave no inkling as to how I came here.

When we journeyed through Moria, I stayed by Merry's side. He had comforted me, though I was not quite sure how I felt about him.

We went through Lorien, and I had to stay away from the Fellowship; as I was a woman.

Frodo left the Fellowship, and when Merry, Pippin and I went to look for him, we were taken by the Orcs. Evidently they thought one of us had the One Ring.

Now I bounced around on the back of my Orc, oblivious to where I was or where I was going.

Suddenly my Orc came to a halt. "What is it? What do you smell?" he asked the lead Orc.

"Man flesh." he replied, snarling viciously.

"They've picked up our trial!" my Orc snarled back. "Move out!"

"Aragorn!" Pippin breathed just as the Orc party, now joined with goblin-like Orcs from Isengard, began to run off. I fell into dark dreams, awaiting the worst.

~*~

The Orcs threw Merry, Pippin and I onto the ground roughly. It was dark, which told me night had fallen. "We ain't goin' no further 'till we've had a breather!" One barked, and several others nodded in agreement.

"Get a fire going!" the leader barked, and several of the Isengard Orcs pounded off into the nearby forest to gather wood.

I turned to Merry, who lay beside me. His eyes were closed, and the gash in his forehead had become infected. His eyes fluttered a bit, and he turned his head weakly toward me. "You all right?" he asked.

I smiled slightly. "Just fine. What about you?" I wanted to reach out to him, tend his wound, but my hands were bound, and I had no way of doing so.

Suddenly, Pippin crawled over with some difficulty, seeing as though his hands were tied as well.

"Merry! Sria! You all right? He whispered, flipping down beside Merry and panting heavily.

"I think... we may have made a mistake... leaving the Shire... Pippin," Merry spoke hesitantly and quietly, as if not wanting me to hear.

Suddenly, a great hacking began. Orcs had begun chopping at the limbs of the trees, and I felt my heart break. I have always had a soft spot for trees.

"What's making that noise?" Pippin asked as a screeching groan filled our ears. I raised myself onto one elbow.

"It's the trees," I breathed. "They're in pain, I can feel it."

"What?" Pippin whispered, turning to Merry.

Merry grinned. "Do you remember the Old Forest? On the borders of Buckland? Folk used to say that there was something in the wood that made the trees grow tall... and come alive."

Pippin was aghast. "Alive?"

Merry continued as if he had heard nothing. "Trees that could whisper, talk to each other. Even move."

"Ents, tree-herders." I thought to myself. I knew what Merry was talking about, and I nodded eagerly when he spoke.

But I froze when an Orc finally spoke. "I'm starvin'. We ain't had nothin' but maggoty bread for three stinkin' days."

I gulped, knowing what was to come next, but could I handle it?

"Yeah!" a weasly one agreed. "Why can't we have some meat?" his gaze rested upon Merry, Pippin and I. I felt Pippin tense, and I moved closer to him and Merry. "What about them? They're fresh!"

"They are not for eating!" the leader barked.

I felt myself being yanked up by my hair, and I let out a yelp of pain. Merry and Pippin were dragged up as well, though by their arms.

"What about their legs?" another asked. "They don't need those!"

"They look tasty!" one said greedily, and he lunged forward. I cringed, burying my head into Merry's shoulder.

"Get back, scum!" the leader cried, pushing the greedy one back. "They are to go to Saruman, alive, and unspoiled."

Despite my best efforts, I felt grateful to the Orc. Though, not for long.

"Alive? Why alive? They'll make good sport." the weasly one said, looking me up and down with renewed interest. Merry stepped in front of me protectively.

"They have something the Master wants, and Elvish weapon he can use in the war." the leader replied.

"They think we have the Ring!" Pippin whispered.

"Yes. And if they discover we don't have it, we're dead." Merry hissed.

"Just a mouthful!" a thin, sickly looking one said. We whirled around to see his groping fingers not far from me."

Suddenly, he froze. The leader cleaved his head off, and it rolled onto the ground, expressionless.

"Looks like meat's back on our menu boys!" he yelled, and cheers sounded from all around. The Orcs closed in on their fallen comrade, and we were pushed to the ground, forgotten.

"Pippin! Sria!" Merry hissed, jerking his head toward the Forest. We instantly got the message, and began to crawl. Suddenly, an Orc stomped on Merry's back, flattening him to the ground. He flipped Pippin around and grabbed his face.

"Go on, squeal. No one's gonna hear you now," the Orc said, raising his dagger. But before his blow fell, a spear flew out of nowhere and hit him squarely in the back.

Riders on horses, the Rohirrim, as I knew, came pounding up, slaying every Orc in their path. We cut out bonds on the fallen Orc's dagger, and crawled away in the direction of the Forest, leaving the battle behind.