The story opens with the lines of the last chapter of "The Fellowship of the Ring", the chapter called 'The Breaking of the Fellowship'. The rest is written by me but the characters and story belongs to J.R.R Tolkien.
"How long is it since you saw Frodo last, Boromir?" asked Aragorn.
"Half an hour, maybe," he answered. "Or it might be an hour. I have wandered for some time since. I do not know! I do not know!" he put his head in his hand, and sat as if bowed with grief.
"An hour since he vanished!" shouted Sam. "We must try and find him at once. Come on!"
The three remaining hobbits, Legolas and Gimli started, rising to their feet and set to sprint off into the thicket of trees when a loud commanding voice stopped them in their tracks.
"Halt! We mustn't lose our heads!"
They were stunned to find the source was their own leader Aragorn, son of Arathorn, whom suddenly appeared kingly and royal, the name Strider forgotten. Despite his desperate urge to find his master, Sam spun around, his protest faltering on his tongue.
"Now, Legolas, Gimli you will come with me," Aragorn said, seeming a little taken aback himself about how he'd just spoken. "Merry, Pippin, Samwise, you shall remain here. Boromir will guard you if any danger should come your way."
Sam snapped out of his awestruck trance and found his tongue. "No! I will not sit idly here while Mr. Frodo is out there in danger!"
"You must stay here," Aragorn repeated firmly. "Frodo may return and if he tries to travel alone to Mordor, he has you four there to stop him. Also, your being here gives us one less thing to worry over. Boromir, if you see any sign of Frodo, blow your horn and we shall return as swiftly as our legs can carry us."
Sam felt sorely defeated, seeing sense and reason in their leader's words but despising them for being correct. To show his displeasure, he threw himself onto the floor, crossing his arms across his chest like a sulking child. Merry and Pippin cast each other uncertain glances, both itching to bolt into the trees despite what Aragorn had said but they knew their short hobbit legs were no match for the long, agile ones of their taller companions. Reluctantly, they too took a seat upon the ground.
Satisfied, Aragorn cast Boromir one last glance. He felt uncertain about Boromir's claim, knowing deep in his heart that the man of Gondor may have been a reason for why Frodo had acted so recklessly but he did not press the matter now and turned on his heel and galloped to the wood, followed hotly by the elf and dwarf.
Boromir felt wary, wringing his hands over and over. He knew Aragorn suspected him and he felt a great urge to flee, to return to Minas Tirith, away from Aragorn's soul-searching stare. He kept his hand upon the hilt of his blade, eyes trained upon the trees, ignoring the hobbits as he felt their eyes upon him.
'They know...' he thought miserably. 'They know what happened between Frodo and I. They scorn me in their minds...such tiny, dumb minds. Whatever will Frodo say when we find him? If we find him, rather. Will he tell them of my weakness?'
They sat there in silence for a while, the only sound breaking it being that of Boromir's anxious footsteps pacing back and forth, his blade hissing as he went to draw it from its sheath only to find no enemy had decided to emerge.
It was Pippin whom had noticed one of the boats moving. At first he assumed it was a trick of the mind; that all the commotion that had occurred had obscured his sight, playing queer tricks upon his eyes. Only when the boat began to wade out into the water, did he spring to his feet, knocking his unsuspected fellow hobbits over onto their backs.
"Ho, steady on, Pip!" Merry exclaimed, straightening up.
Pippin wasn't about to steady. He bounced up and down, pointing frantically at the water, his mouth moving but only stutters leaving his lips, unable to unknot the rope that had been constricted around his throat. Sam and Merry considered briefly that the youngest hobbit had been stricken mad, but they were proven wrong when the young Took found his voice.
"THE BOAT!" he yelped.
Sam and Merry looked, eyes widening as they realised Pippin was telling the truth. The boat was leaving the shore.
"Boromir!" Sam shouted for the man.
Boromir turned, catching on immediately and tore down towards the waters.
"Maybe one of the ropes weren't tied properly!" Merry suggested as he, Pippin and Sam followed.
"Impossible," Boromir replied through gritted teeth. "Elven ropes don't loosen easily."
Unless their eyes were cheated by some spell, the hobbits saw the boat pick up speed as if someone was frantically paddling, water being disturbed on the right and left side of the boat. Boromir was too quick and reached out, fingers gripping onto the stern and pulling it back.
"No!" a voice cried.
Sam's heart skipped a momentary beat and he found a smile cross across his lips. It was Frodo. His master was safe. Stopped in his tracks from doing something self-sacrificing and unreasonable. He, Merry and Pippin halted at the water's edge, watching the boat being towed in by the man.
Frodo paddled feverishly, struggling with all his might to escape from Boromir's vice-like grip but he was forced to shore. His heart sank. Everything now was pointless; he had been caught. No way could he escape now. Sooner or later, Aragorn, Gimli and Legolas would return and they would want to hear what had happened, would still wish to accompany him on his dangerous quest. His beloveds, Merry, Pippin, especially Samwise would be put in harm's way once again, and he'd have to rely on the strength of strangers to prevent their untimely deaths. He found himself close to tears, tempted to throw himself into the water and swim away if he must.
Frodo made one last desperate attempt to escape, leaping from the boat and starting towards the trees but he was too busy checking over his shoulder to see if Boromir had noticed his absence from the boat, and he walked straight into an unsuspecting Pippin. Pippin fell with an "oof", and Frodo's location was pin pointed.
"Take the ring off, Frodo, son of Drogo," Boromir said softly, walking towards them. "We wish to speak, calmly and rationally."
Frodo, defeated, obeyed and pulled the ring from his finger. As if a cloak that had blocked him from sight had been torn from him, he came into view. Sam stepped forward and heaved his master to his feet, brushing him down as Pippin pouted; helping himself to his feet, looking to Merry to brush him down but his cousin was staring intently at Frodo.
"You mustn't scare me like that, Mr. Frodo," Sam gushed, bubbling with relief that his master was safe and sound once more. "We could have lost you. I'm so glad we found you..."
"That makes one of us, dearest Sam," Frodo said, eyes locked upon those of Boromir. "For I wished to leave unspotted and to complete this hopeless errand alone."
"Alone? Whatever for?" Merry asked, perplexed. "You've seen what's out there and, to be honest, I'm glad to have such strong, courageous men to aid us otherwise we'd have been killed before even setting foot out of the Shire. Why ever would you wish to continue this alone?"
"The ring is treacherous," Frodo answered, not shifting his eyes once. "And it is my own burden. I am grieved that I have brought you all into this...and the affects it has had upon you all."
Boromir's blood ran cold. He was pleased that none of the other hobbits had caught on to what this was hinting at; Frodo's glare was quite enough. He suddenly remembered his promise to Aragorn and raised his horn to his lips, blowing into it.
After he'd blown a few times, he lowered it and turned to the hobbits. "There, Aragorn and the others should be here at any moment. Then we'll discuss this..."
It was never known what young Boromir had to say; Frodo often mused later on in life that he'd have used hedging terms such as 'situation' or 'affair', but of course he would never know. An object, slender and swift, whistled past Sam's ear, causing him to instinctively duck; and it struck Boromir, son of Denethor, in the chest. It took the hobbits a moment to understand what had just happened, but when they did finally understand it struck them harder than the very black arrow that protruded from Boromir's chest. Merry stood staring with his mouth agape. Pippin staggered back in shock into his older cousin. Sam's hand flew to his mouth, stifling a cry. Frodo stared, his blue eyes bulging, still locked with those of the man. Boromir's eyes were filled with various emotions; mainly guilt, surprise, horror, grief...and it haunted all four of them till the end of their days.
A great roar tore through the air and Frodo withdrew Sting, praying that their enemies were at bay and that it was only a stray arrow that had pierced their companion. To his dismay, the blade glowed blue.
"Orcs," Sam breathed, his hands visibly shaking as he went to draw his own small sword.
The hobbits were frozen with fear, the trumpets of the enemy bellowing in the trees. Boromir stood there, breathing heavily, staring in amazement as the four, child-sized halfings created a protective circle around him, weapons drawn and ready to attack. The pain was great in his chest but their bravery seemed to numb it momentarily. He drew himself up straight and moved forward to stand before them.
"You four get on the boat," he said firmly, spotting the first few orcs and uruk-hai disturbing the shadows in the trees. "Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli would've heard by horn...they will be here shortly but I need you to escape."
Frodo gazed in wonder at the back of the man of Gondor, his heart swelling with newfound admiration, and a great reluctance to leave the courageous warrior to fight alone.
"We shall not abandon you," he said, going to stand beside the man only to have Boromir's hand reach back to stop him, touching his chest.
"You must and shall," Boromir insisted, feeling the frantic heartbeat of the hobbit. "Sam, Merry, Pippin, I leave the ring bearer in your care. Protect him with your life, and one another. I bid you good tidings as you head towards Mount Doom...I pray that your journey shall be without grief and misfortune. Now hasten and leave, I will hold them off for as long as my body allows."
The four hobbits hesitated, moved by these words although also terrified of the prospect of being alone in the world against so many powerful enemies that could kill them with a swipe of its claw. They wanted to stay alongside Boromir, stand at his side until the very end, to remain with Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli. But they all knew it could not be so. The uruk-hai and orcs were swarming in like bees to sweet nectar, bellowing out howls and roars that brought terror to the hearts of the halflings. They knew they must leave...and fast.
"Your nerve shall never be forgotten, Boromir son of Denethor, man of Gondor," Frodo said softly as the others ran back to the boat, climbing aboard and grabbing packs. "Whatever wrongs you have done, whatever ways your heart was turned due to the power of the Ring, I forgive all and your heart is now pure and untainted. You will be in my thoughts, for always."
"And you in mine," Boromir returned, casting a swift smile over his shoulder at the ring bearer. "Now make haste. Destroy the evil!"
Boromir charged towards the cluster of orcs and uruk-hai, his hair flying out behind him, cloak billowing in the wind, sword rose. Frodo couldn't move for a moment and Sam had to grasp his shoulder, roughly turning him around and pulling him into the boat. Merry and Pippin rowed as hard and fast as they could, their eyes forever trained on the brave warrior whom continued to swing his blade, slaying many orcs and uruk-hai. They all gasped sharply as yet more arrows pierced his chest, back and shoulder. Pippin turned away and buried his head in Merry's shoulder, tears cascading down his muddy cheeks. Sam turned away, focusing on the water instead, his eyes squeezing tighter shut every time Boromir gave a cry. Frodo just stared...always staring...at the peril and destruction he left behind him...
Let me know what you think. More chapters will be uploaded soon. The story will focus mainly on the hobbits and their journey. Review please.