Disclaimer: Even if Boromir says I own this, I don't. I own nothing.

Chapter Seven: Titles and Love

"Merry, I can't sleep," Pippin complained.

"Sam, we can't sleep," Merry whispered.

"Mr. Frodo . . ." Sam cut off, seeing that his Master was asleep. "Strider, we're not getting any sleep."

"Find someone who cares," Aragorn mumbled sleepily. Sam sighed.

"Mr. Boromir, hardly anyone's sleeping."

"Gandalf, the Dwarf's snoring is keeping everyone awake."

"I hadn't noticed," Legolas groaned sarcastically.

"We shall have to do something about it, then," Gandalf declared, rising.

"Mithrandir, the ringbearer is asleep. Therefore, everything is fine."

"Don't we matter?" Pippin whined.

"No," was Aragorn's crisp answer.

"Now, my king, a person's a person, no matter how small," Boromir defended Pippin.

"You'll be smaller than he is if you don't shut up and stop calling me your king."

"I meant no offense." Aragorn ignored him.

"Did you make that up yourself?" Pippin asked.

"Make what up?"

"That saying a person's a person, no matter how small'."

"I didn't make it up. I read it in the library of Gondor."

"Probably in the Elvish section," Aragorn commented. Both Legolas and Boromir were about to object, but Gandalf cleared his throat rather loudly.

"We must move Gimli far away, so we can all sleep."

"How?" squeaked Pippin. "He's so big and heavy. We'll fail!"

Merry, however, just stared at the wizard. "We move him? That's the best thing you could think of?"

"Yes," Gandalf declared, not flustered in the least.

"Why don't we just do this?" Merry asked, stuffing his sock into Gimli's mouth. Instantly, the snores were scarcely audible.

"How did you know to do that?" Pippin asked.

"I used to do that to you all the time, Pip." A horrified look crossed the Hobbit's face. Instantly, he sprang into Sam's pack, grabbed a canteen of water and furiously began to rinse his mouth.

"Hey that's mine!" Sam hollered.

"Quiet! You'll wake Frodo!" shouted two voices.

"Sorry, Mr. Gandalf and Mr. Strider."

"The next person to call me a title dies!" Aragorn screamed.

"Shh," hissed six other voices. Sam and Pippin were still fighting over the water and spilling most of it on each other.

"Stop!" a voice out of nowhere yelled. Everyone stopped.

"The Valar?" Gandalf questioned.

"Close guess. This is the author. I am sick of everyone fighting and Gimli snoring, so stop it before I blast you all." The snoring and fighting instantly stopped. "One more thing. Aragorn, you are in denial."

"No I'm not!"

"Farewell for now, dear fellowship and my king. Oh, and go to sleep." Instantly, everyone obeyed. Only Legolas saw Boromir return, a small bullhorn hidden in the Horn of Gondor.


"This is preposterous, Faramir. Tell me true, have you asked this Elven sorceress to marry you?" Denethor coldly inquired, blue fire burning dangerously in his eyes. Faramir hesitated.

"I don't know, sir."

"Maybe I should ask her then, but first I would like an answer. How can you not know whether you have asked for her hand in marriage or not?"

"These days it is difficult to separate dreams from waking days."

"Is that so? Then let me tell you some things that are not dreams. Sauron is at our doorstep and, unfortunately, you are Gondor's captain in your brother's absence. Osgiliath's protection is the essential factor in this war and that city has once again been entrusted to your care."

"Father, I know this and I will not disappoint you."

"See that you do not. Also, any proposal you may have made to that Elf maiden regarding marriage, retract it. That is all."


"The leaves were long, the grass was green, the hemlock umbels tall and fair and in the glade a light was seen of stars in shadow shimmering. Tinuviel was dancing there . . ."

"All right, Boromir, who is she?" Legolas asked. Boromir startled, not knowing that the Elf was awake.

"I am sorry, I didn't mean to awaken you . . ." Legolas held up his hand to stop the flow of apologies. Seeing the Elf was not angry, but had no intention of leaving him alone, Boromir decided to entrust him with this secret.

"Her name is Lossulwen, the most beautiful Elven maiden ever to walk the streets of Gondor. I . . . I love her, Legolas."

"Does she know this?"

"She does, and loves me in return, more than I deserve. She promised to spend her life with me and become mortal for my sake. I had no time to bid her farewell before I set off for Rivendell. If I should perish on this quest, what then? What will happen to my Tinuviel, my Luthien?" he sighed. Then silence engulfed the dark land for a few moments.

"She spoke of her homeland rarely, but said it was once a place of beauty and joy that had been swallowed in the shadow of Sauron, much like Gondor."

A light sprung in Legolas' eyes. "Is she from Mirkwood?"

"Why, yes, I do believe so!"

"Lossulwen," Legolas murmured. "Boromir, what does she look like?" he asked, his voice beginning to raise in excitement, though the Gondorian knew not why.

"He skin is as white as the moon and her hair is the night. Within her eyes, the rivers flow their purest blue. She is the image of Luthien herself."

"Ai, Irmo, Lord of dreams, can it be?" Legolas murmured in awe. "Boromir, I believe you may have fallen in love with my sister."

What a twist, huh? What do you think? You know what to do: review.

Thank you much,

MornieGalad