A/N: Yes, it's the third and last installment of the Steph/Boromir tales.
If you're new to it, you may want to read Why You (the first) and Why Me
(the second). If you're a veteran, then welcome back, and thanks a bundle
for keeping up with this story! I hadn't planned on writing a third, but I
was flooded with so many reviews for one, I couldn't say no! Just about
everyone suggested Why Us, so that's what I've named it.
With every chapter I write I've got all three books next to me, and I'm striving to keep it as true as possible...except the part where he lives on. ^.^ I apologize for any mistakes, I spent an hour trying to read those tiny maps in the front of the books, deciding where they were and which way they were going.
If any of you are interested, I made a doll of Steph. She's on my website on the front page and the Fanfiction page. I've also got my blog up now, so if you're *really* bored, go read what I was thinking. ^_^
Enjoy it, and please review!
Enednilwen*
Disclaimer: I own Steph...and I don't own Boromir. Was that so hard?
~~~~~~~~
**Chapter 1**
Fifth period. The most boring period in the 11th grade. Steph sat at the cramped two-person desk next to her best friend, Sara. It was dark in the room, and a boring video about 'the Life Cycle of a Brazilian Fruit Fly' was putting her to sleep. She quietly rested her head on her arms, tilting her head so the teacher couldn't see her closed eyes. After a while, she was asleep.
Sara looked up from taking notes, worry lines crinkling in her forehead. "Stephanie!" she hissed quietly, trying to avoid drawing attention, "Wake up!"
The blonde helped herself to one of Sara's clean sheets of paper. In blue ink she wrote:
Sleep=wasted time
Class=wasted time
Therefore, sleep=class
Sleep=happy
Happy=good
Get it? Good.
She shoved the paper at Sara, then resumed her nap. Sara's eyes traced over it. The worry lines between her eyebrows deepened, and she gave an irritated snort. Returning to her notes, she decided to let Steph copy her notes after class. Besides, Steph had paid for her lunch on Tuesday.
Steph heard the snort, and smiled. Sighing contentedly, she fell asleep. As soon as the last of her thoughts blended into darkness, she felt hot and cold all at once. When it ended, she was facedown in something, though she was too scared to look.
~*~*~*~
Sara turned around in surprise when she heard a loud snapping sound coming from behind her. She turned to where Steph was sitting, and gasped loudly.
"Mr. Miller!!" she shrieked frantically, drawing more attention than she ever wanted to their last row last chair seat, "Stephanie has disappeared!!"
The fat blonde boy in front of her goggled at the empty chair, as if an alien was sitting there. "What'd you do with her?"
The class has surrounded the semi-singed spot where Steph had been. Mr. Miller pushed his way through the class and ordered the fat blonde boy to go get the principal.
Sara was horrorstruck for a moment, before she noticed something. Steph's purse was gone, and there were singe marks where her feet had been. Where had she seen that before?
The memory hit her like a truck. The summer before. The Fellowship. When they had disappeared they had left faint singe marks where their feet had been. She gasped again. Could that mean...? But why?
~*~*~*~*~
Steph couldn't stand it anymore. After nearly three seconds of keeping her eyes closed, she was driving herself mad. She forced her eyes open. A scream caught in her throat. She was in a boat. Not just any boat. A *funeral* boat. And it wasn't just anyone's funeral boat, it was Boromir's.
She tumbled backwards in disgust and fear, almost toppling into the water. The suppressed scream in her throat was let loose as the body made a choking noise and moved.
~*~*~*~
Boromir was so close to the end of the tunnel. The light seemed to call to him, as if whatever it led to would surpass his wildest dreams. As he came near enough to touch it, a voice whispered to him. Boromir had lost all cares of time, but he still felt that the voice had spoken to him long ago. That is, if he still understood what long ago was. "Touch it."
"I'm afraid." He said quietly, his once eager fingers feeling hesitant.
"Of what?"
He answered with another question. "What is behind it?"
"It was not time for you to leave. Touch it."
"That's not possible." He said defiantly, feeling slightly afraid to be fighting with a disembodied voice, "I was meant to die. I could feel it."
"It does not matter what you feel." The voice said, "Touch it now."
Boromir frowned, still hesitating.
"Touch it." The voice repeated, in a firmer tone.
Taking a deep breath, he touched it. The white light was around him again, making him blind and deaf to everything around him. Then, like a child being born, he emerged from the state and into the sunshine.
He choked on the air that flowed into his lungs, and for a split second he thought he had forgotten how to breathe. He inhaled sharply through his mouth and blinked his eyes to clear his vision.
A sharp scream pierced his ears.
"AUGH!!!! ZOMBIE!!!" something heavy slammed against his face, making him fall back. The blows were repeated on his arms and chest. He shielded his face from the merciless blows.
"How do you kill a zombie?? HOW THE HELL DO YOU KILL A ZOMBIE??" Steph shouted, hitting the zombie with her purse. Scenes from the Resident Evil movie flashed in her mind. "I don't have a damn gun!!" she moaned as she resumed hitting the zombie. "DIE ZOMBIE!! DIE!!"
She paused to see if she had succeeded in killing it. It blinked angrily at her. Then it screamed.
"NOOOO!!! BY THE VALAR, WHY ARE YOU HERE??"
She screamed.
Boromir tore the purse from her hands. "You are by far the last person I wish to see right now!" he bellowed, his newly awaken blood pumping through his veins.
"You're supposed to be dead!!" Steph shrieked, inching away from him, a wild look on her face.
"You're supposed to be in your own world!"
She stopped backing up. "No!!" the word slid from a moan to a shrieking howl, until it became so loud Boromir covered his ears.
"Stop that racket, woman! What's wrong with you??"
She was in tears now, her chin quivering. "I'm here again! I'm here in blasted Middle Earth, with...YOU! I thought I was done with this!!"
She tilted her head back and howled 'Nooooo!' again.
Boromir stretched his stiff arm muscles. Being dead for a few days can make them rather stiff. "I would think you would be happy to see me again." He grunted, grimacing at the noise she was causing. He hoped no orcs were near.
Irritably, she brushed the tears away. "Ok, number one, YOU'RE DEAD. Number two, YOUR FRIENDS PUSHED YOU OFF A FRICKIN WATERFALL, and number three, I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE AGAIN."
Boromir rolled his eyes and stiffly took oars in each hand. "At least you're decently dressed this time." He grumbled, fighting against the harsh current to get to shore. He was still weak, and it took a lot of effort to get the two across.
They made it eventually, and Boromir tumbled out of the boat, panting. Steph dragged him to a tree, and propped him up against it.
"I guess dying takes a bit oughta you, huh?" she asked, her hands on her knees, trying to get her breath back.
Boromir nodded, his breathing coming back to normal. "What is a zombie?"
"Living dead, Boredom." She quipped, sitting in the sand, glaring at nothing.
Boromir sneered at the nickname. Of all the things that could happen to him! Annoying memories were tugging at the back of his mind, of times where they had actually been nice to each other. He pushed them irritably aside and tried to sort everything out.
He was alive.
Steph was here.
He was so angry that he felt like screaming. He was obviously sent back for a purpose, though he didn't know what it was...yet. It was obviously important, and now the same 'thing' that brought Steph to him when she was 14 and brought him to her when she was 16 was at it again. He could only imagine how many things could happen with Steph with him.
She had no fighting skills, save verbally, she was a *woman*, and she probably couldn't keep up. He put his head in his hands. He was doomed. Doomed...the word echoed in his mind, taunting him.
Steph looked over at him. She was positive that her anger juices were cooking her organs. All the days she had wondered about him and wished she could have said a decent goodbye were gone. She was in Middle Earth. AGAIN. She was completely dependent on Boromir. AGAIN. She was a weakling who served only as luggage to be carted around by someone, most likely Boromir, until whoever thought it was fun to do this to her sent her home. AGAIN.
She ground her knuckles into her forehead, furious. This was the last place she wanted to be. Tramping through the woods, Boromir bossing her around, blood, dead things...why her?
Better yet, why him? Why was he alive again? Then there was the question again; why her? It would have been great if he was alive again, but geez, did 'they' have to drag her into it? AGAIN?
Sighing, she traced in the sand, trying to decide whether or not to drown herself right away. She was totally screwed.
Boromir was feeling physically better, and watched as she traced lines. As if coming back to life hadn't been hard enough, and then with the fact that he had to complete something, Steph was with him.
Steph obviously felt his piercing stare, and raised her eyes to meet his.
The two locked eyes, and an old fire stirred within both of them.
They glared.
With every chapter I write I've got all three books next to me, and I'm striving to keep it as true as possible...except the part where he lives on. ^.^ I apologize for any mistakes, I spent an hour trying to read those tiny maps in the front of the books, deciding where they were and which way they were going.
If any of you are interested, I made a doll of Steph. She's on my website on the front page and the Fanfiction page. I've also got my blog up now, so if you're *really* bored, go read what I was thinking. ^_^
Enjoy it, and please review!
Enednilwen*
Disclaimer: I own Steph...and I don't own Boromir. Was that so hard?
~~~~~~~~
**Chapter 1**
Fifth period. The most boring period in the 11th grade. Steph sat at the cramped two-person desk next to her best friend, Sara. It was dark in the room, and a boring video about 'the Life Cycle of a Brazilian Fruit Fly' was putting her to sleep. She quietly rested her head on her arms, tilting her head so the teacher couldn't see her closed eyes. After a while, she was asleep.
Sara looked up from taking notes, worry lines crinkling in her forehead. "Stephanie!" she hissed quietly, trying to avoid drawing attention, "Wake up!"
The blonde helped herself to one of Sara's clean sheets of paper. In blue ink she wrote:
Sleep=wasted time
Class=wasted time
Therefore, sleep=class
Sleep=happy
Happy=good
Get it? Good.
She shoved the paper at Sara, then resumed her nap. Sara's eyes traced over it. The worry lines between her eyebrows deepened, and she gave an irritated snort. Returning to her notes, she decided to let Steph copy her notes after class. Besides, Steph had paid for her lunch on Tuesday.
Steph heard the snort, and smiled. Sighing contentedly, she fell asleep. As soon as the last of her thoughts blended into darkness, she felt hot and cold all at once. When it ended, she was facedown in something, though she was too scared to look.
~*~*~*~
Sara turned around in surprise when she heard a loud snapping sound coming from behind her. She turned to where Steph was sitting, and gasped loudly.
"Mr. Miller!!" she shrieked frantically, drawing more attention than she ever wanted to their last row last chair seat, "Stephanie has disappeared!!"
The fat blonde boy in front of her goggled at the empty chair, as if an alien was sitting there. "What'd you do with her?"
The class has surrounded the semi-singed spot where Steph had been. Mr. Miller pushed his way through the class and ordered the fat blonde boy to go get the principal.
Sara was horrorstruck for a moment, before she noticed something. Steph's purse was gone, and there were singe marks where her feet had been. Where had she seen that before?
The memory hit her like a truck. The summer before. The Fellowship. When they had disappeared they had left faint singe marks where their feet had been. She gasped again. Could that mean...? But why?
~*~*~*~*~
Steph couldn't stand it anymore. After nearly three seconds of keeping her eyes closed, she was driving herself mad. She forced her eyes open. A scream caught in her throat. She was in a boat. Not just any boat. A *funeral* boat. And it wasn't just anyone's funeral boat, it was Boromir's.
She tumbled backwards in disgust and fear, almost toppling into the water. The suppressed scream in her throat was let loose as the body made a choking noise and moved.
~*~*~*~
Boromir was so close to the end of the tunnel. The light seemed to call to him, as if whatever it led to would surpass his wildest dreams. As he came near enough to touch it, a voice whispered to him. Boromir had lost all cares of time, but he still felt that the voice had spoken to him long ago. That is, if he still understood what long ago was. "Touch it."
"I'm afraid." He said quietly, his once eager fingers feeling hesitant.
"Of what?"
He answered with another question. "What is behind it?"
"It was not time for you to leave. Touch it."
"That's not possible." He said defiantly, feeling slightly afraid to be fighting with a disembodied voice, "I was meant to die. I could feel it."
"It does not matter what you feel." The voice said, "Touch it now."
Boromir frowned, still hesitating.
"Touch it." The voice repeated, in a firmer tone.
Taking a deep breath, he touched it. The white light was around him again, making him blind and deaf to everything around him. Then, like a child being born, he emerged from the state and into the sunshine.
He choked on the air that flowed into his lungs, and for a split second he thought he had forgotten how to breathe. He inhaled sharply through his mouth and blinked his eyes to clear his vision.
A sharp scream pierced his ears.
"AUGH!!!! ZOMBIE!!!" something heavy slammed against his face, making him fall back. The blows were repeated on his arms and chest. He shielded his face from the merciless blows.
"How do you kill a zombie?? HOW THE HELL DO YOU KILL A ZOMBIE??" Steph shouted, hitting the zombie with her purse. Scenes from the Resident Evil movie flashed in her mind. "I don't have a damn gun!!" she moaned as she resumed hitting the zombie. "DIE ZOMBIE!! DIE!!"
She paused to see if she had succeeded in killing it. It blinked angrily at her. Then it screamed.
"NOOOO!!! BY THE VALAR, WHY ARE YOU HERE??"
She screamed.
Boromir tore the purse from her hands. "You are by far the last person I wish to see right now!" he bellowed, his newly awaken blood pumping through his veins.
"You're supposed to be dead!!" Steph shrieked, inching away from him, a wild look on her face.
"You're supposed to be in your own world!"
She stopped backing up. "No!!" the word slid from a moan to a shrieking howl, until it became so loud Boromir covered his ears.
"Stop that racket, woman! What's wrong with you??"
She was in tears now, her chin quivering. "I'm here again! I'm here in blasted Middle Earth, with...YOU! I thought I was done with this!!"
She tilted her head back and howled 'Nooooo!' again.
Boromir stretched his stiff arm muscles. Being dead for a few days can make them rather stiff. "I would think you would be happy to see me again." He grunted, grimacing at the noise she was causing. He hoped no orcs were near.
Irritably, she brushed the tears away. "Ok, number one, YOU'RE DEAD. Number two, YOUR FRIENDS PUSHED YOU OFF A FRICKIN WATERFALL, and number three, I DON'T WANT TO BE HERE AGAIN."
Boromir rolled his eyes and stiffly took oars in each hand. "At least you're decently dressed this time." He grumbled, fighting against the harsh current to get to shore. He was still weak, and it took a lot of effort to get the two across.
They made it eventually, and Boromir tumbled out of the boat, panting. Steph dragged him to a tree, and propped him up against it.
"I guess dying takes a bit oughta you, huh?" she asked, her hands on her knees, trying to get her breath back.
Boromir nodded, his breathing coming back to normal. "What is a zombie?"
"Living dead, Boredom." She quipped, sitting in the sand, glaring at nothing.
Boromir sneered at the nickname. Of all the things that could happen to him! Annoying memories were tugging at the back of his mind, of times where they had actually been nice to each other. He pushed them irritably aside and tried to sort everything out.
He was alive.
Steph was here.
He was so angry that he felt like screaming. He was obviously sent back for a purpose, though he didn't know what it was...yet. It was obviously important, and now the same 'thing' that brought Steph to him when she was 14 and brought him to her when she was 16 was at it again. He could only imagine how many things could happen with Steph with him.
She had no fighting skills, save verbally, she was a *woman*, and she probably couldn't keep up. He put his head in his hands. He was doomed. Doomed...the word echoed in his mind, taunting him.
Steph looked over at him. She was positive that her anger juices were cooking her organs. All the days she had wondered about him and wished she could have said a decent goodbye were gone. She was in Middle Earth. AGAIN. She was completely dependent on Boromir. AGAIN. She was a weakling who served only as luggage to be carted around by someone, most likely Boromir, until whoever thought it was fun to do this to her sent her home. AGAIN.
She ground her knuckles into her forehead, furious. This was the last place she wanted to be. Tramping through the woods, Boromir bossing her around, blood, dead things...why her?
Better yet, why him? Why was he alive again? Then there was the question again; why her? It would have been great if he was alive again, but geez, did 'they' have to drag her into it? AGAIN?
Sighing, she traced in the sand, trying to decide whether or not to drown herself right away. She was totally screwed.
Boromir was feeling physically better, and watched as she traced lines. As if coming back to life hadn't been hard enough, and then with the fact that he had to complete something, Steph was with him.
Steph obviously felt his piercing stare, and raised her eyes to meet his.
The two locked eyes, and an old fire stirred within both of them.
They glared.