"Aragorn!"
Frodo's voice pierced the soft quiet of night. Aragorn awoke with a wild thrashing of arms and steel. He sat up and stared into the darkness with wide eyes. Legolas and Gimli both sat up and listened, giving each other side glances. Sam and the other hobbits snored gently, that is, until Frodo cried out once more.
Aragorn jumped to his feet and Legolas followed suit. Legolas pointed into the woods. Sam, Merry, and Pippin flinched and grabbed onto each other like frightened rabbits.
"Mr Frodo?" Sam forced out, pushing Pippin off of him.
"Stay with them," Aragorn told Gimli, who hadn't tried to get up. He noticed with bitterness that Boromir was also missing.
Quickly, Legolas and Aragorn vanished into the woods.
...
Boromir had managed to take the Ring from Frodo while he slept. He contemplated many things to do with the Ring. Keep it, take it to his father, put it on, give it back to Frodo...
He ended up merely sitting in a small clearing in the woods, stroking it lightly in the palm of his hand. His eyes glowed with a sickly delight. He couldn't hear the crunching of sticks and leaves as Frodo tracked him down, so lost was he in his swirling decent into madness.
Frodo came into the clearing and glared at Boromir. Hatred rose up inside of him. His hand gripped into his sword's hilt, and he drew it a moment later.
Boromir gasped and looked up. He shut his mouth and swallowed. "F-Frodo," he said, forcing a pleasant tone. "I..." His eyes fell to the Ring in his hand. He closed his hand into a fist and looked back at Frodo with a faltering expression. "I didn't mean to-"
"Give it to me," Frodo demanded, walking up to Boromir, his sword up and threatening.
Boromir stood up hastily, slipping briefly on the leaves. He backed away from Frodo, raising his hands defensively. "Careful, Frodo," Boromir warned. "Tis not a gardening tool you carry."
Frodo narrowed his eyes and pointed the blade at Boromir's neck. "I know what it is. Give me the Ring."
Boromir stared at him with uncertainty, before a sly smile crept across his lips.
"I don't have it," Boromir said regrettably. He raised his hands. "See?" He opened his fist and the Ring dropped out. As quick as lightning, Boromir struck out his hand perfectly and the Ring slid onto his middle finger.
Frodo screamed "No!" and tried to stop him, but it was too late. Boromir vanished.
"Aragorn!" He shrieked desperately. He swung out helplessly with his sword, cutting into nothing but air.
Suddenly Boromir rammed into Frodo's back, knocking him to the ground. Frodo yelped in pain as he landed on his sword, which gashed open his left arm.
"Frodo!" Aragorn's voice called.
Frodo struggled against the pain and clasped his arm against his chest. "Aragorn, Help! He took the Ring! He put it on!" He wailed.
Aragorn came into the clearing with Legolas right beside him.
"Where?" Aragorn asked shortly.
"He was right there, but he disappeared when he put the Ring on," Frodo told him, wincing as he pointed to where Boromir had been.
"Tend to him," Aragorn said in a low voice to Legolas. Legolas nodded and went to Frodo, picking him up easily like a child. Frodo gritted his teeth and moaned. Legolas jogged back to the camp.
Aragorn tossed his sword into his right hand.
"Boromir!" He called. He held his breath, listening for footsteps.
Suddenly he heard much more than that.
Boromir appeared a few yards away, jerking the Ring from his finger and collapsing against a tree. He leaned there, gasping and blinking rapidly, his fingers digging into the bark of the tree.
Aragorn scowled and went at him.
Boromir raised his head just in time to see Aragorn reaching for him. Aragorn grabbed him by the front of his shirt and jerked him forward before slamming his back against the tree.
"Where is the Ring?" Aragorn snarled hatefully.
Boromir gazed at Aragorn with calm, sad eyes. He sighed and took the Ring from his pocket. He offered it to Aragorn with a shaking hand, who snatched it and put it in his own pocket.
"I'm sorry,"Boromir whimpered. "It's like my mind was not my own. I couldn't control myself. I'm so sorr-"
Aragorn punched him in the mouth. Boromir's head bashed back into the tree.
"Shut it," he hissed, pressing his blade against Boromir's throat. "If I ever see you within ten feet of Frodo, I swear by the kings of Gondor, you won't have hands to steal with anymore!"
Boromir raised his eyes. "As you wish, my Lord." He said evenly.
Aragorn's eyes burned with anger. He pushed the sword steadily until a line of blood appeared along Boromir's neck.
Boromir held still, his eyes hard, yet moist.
Suddenly Aragorn turned away, sheathing his sword. He walked back to the camp leaving Boromir alone.
...
The next morning, Frodo completely ignored Boromir. Sam stayed right at his side like a puppy, giving Boromir venomous looks and rude gestures. Merry and Pippin kept mostly to themselves, watching everyone with their eyes and whispering behind dirty hands. Legolas kept his attention on Frodo, taking care that his wound remained clean and well-bandaged. Aragorn paced with his hand on his hilt whenever he went past Frodo or Boromir, his eyes narrow slits. Gimli felt the tension and stood silently, his axe planted in the ground beside him like a flag pole, holding onto it solemnly like a statue.
"I'm hungr- Ow!" Pippin flinched and glared at Merry, who had elbowed him.
Aragorn glanced at them. "We'll head out soon," he said. "Maybe catch a rabbit or two."
"All right," Pippin grinned. Merry rolled his eyes.
"How is your arm, Mr Frodo?" Sam asked for the hundreth time.
Frodo nodded. "Better." He gave Legolas a grateful smile.
Sam sighed as if a heavy weight had been taken from him. "Good, good," he said agreeably.
Boromir stared into the woods, letting his mind drift away into emptiness to help keep him from thinking of the Ring... and what it made him do.
