Chapter 3
Deep in thoughts of doubt, Borimir slept through the night with a heavy heart. He dreamt of Moria, in Balin's throne room. Gandalf was attacking four orcs at a time, while Frodo was seeking cover. His eyes studied Frodo, watching his every movement and not knowing why. It was the gold glint inside his jacket, it twinkled in his eyes and he walked towards it.
Reaching out, he was suddenly grabbed by a great chain. The cave troll let out a triumphant roar, and Borimir was suddenly thrown against the wall. Stunned, lying on the ground he was defenseless. Then an orc pounced on him, plunging his blade into his shoulder. He cried out, and as the foul creature prepared to strike again, and then a knife was in its throat.
And there was Aragorn, nodding his head at Borimir, who nodded back. In the dark he lay, thinking of how close he had been to death. He stood and fought on, wincing at the pain in his shoulder, and then the troll was defeated, and they were running to some bridge.
Aragorn had saved his life despite knowing he wanted the ring. Maybe he had a chance to rid himself of its grasp on him.
Then Gandalf had fallen into shadow, and resting before meeting Galadriel, he saw Frodo sobbing. Knowing he should say something, he said the only thing to comfort him he could. " Gandalf"s death was not in vein, nor would he have you give up hope," Borimir said. "You carry a heavy burden Frodo, don't carry the weight of the dead."
Frodo had looked on him a way as never before, he saw a warrior. He saw someone who was there to help him in his quest, a kind ally. But could he really trust him?
Leaving Galadriel, the Fellowship was given elven cloaks. One of the elves addressed them all, "May these cloaks shield you from unfriendly eyes. Borimir had felt as one of those pairs of eyes. He was glad to leave that place, for Galadriel seemed to peer into his soul every time she laid eyes on him.
She did not like what she saw, he could tell. Meeting her, he gasped and looked away, for he could not look into her eyes.
His next thought was of when he ran to the bridge, feeling terrible after trying to steal the ring from Frodo, but wanting to help his friend hobbits. He had grown a great bond to the hobbits Merry and Pippin.
They looked up to him as a true hero, and a great friend, he could not let them fall. Leaping to their aid, he started to slay orcs immediately. The halflings were throwing rocks, though it wasn't helping much. He blew into his horn, desperately looking around.
It showed how truly helpless the hobbits were, and how much they needed him. As he fought, he thought, "If only I can save them, then I may rid myself of this weight, this constant pressure of darkness. It clouds my vision and shrouds my judgement, no more! I no longer wish to have the ring, but only wish to protect Gondor and fight bravely onward for the White City!"
Just then he had killed his 16th orc, and he was suddenly pierced by an arrow, which burrowed into his chest. Borimir gasped and stared ahead, only seeing the mocking eye of fire, with the ring flying towards him.
He gritted his teeth and swung at the terrible eye, decapitating an orc. He could see again, and he pulled down the nearest orc and stabbed it once in the heart.
His 18th orc slain, he turned to look for more and saw an Uruk-hai, a perfected orc. He saw it pull back on its bow, and he fell to his knees, two arrows protruding from his body.
He kneeled on the ground, sobbing through heavy, labored breaths. He looked up at the hobbits, sweat pouring down his face, and he knew. Manhood had failed. The hobbits stood stunned, looking at him sadly, then they screamed. Pulling out their daggers, they rushed the orcs, a futile attack.
He stood, knowing death was eminent, and thought, "Thew will look for my coming at the white tower, but I will not return."
The second arrow pierced his stomach, and he groaned, standing up. The orcs had all run past him, the hobbits carried off.
No! I must rescue them! Striking out, he killed two more orcs. Screaming in pain and rage, he stood at 20 orcs dead, horn cloven and resting on the ground behind his feet.
One more arrow would kill him, and the Uruk-hai let loose one more arrow. It flew towards Borimir with incredible speed, and he stood, sword drawn, awaiting its arrival.
As Borimir started to leap out of the way, another arrow suddenly shot out of the trees around him. The elven arrow hit the other in mid-air, deflecting it away from him. It barely missed him, grazing his face.
A small line of blood appeared on his cheek and he fell unconscious as Aragorn jumped on the huge orc. A minute later it was over, and Aragorn ran to Borimir, tears in his eyes.
Please do not let him be dead, he thought. Shaking him and holding his head as his eyes fluttered open.
"The hobbits? Are they ok?" he asked softly. Aragorn nodded, smiling.
Borimir was free from the rings control, and still alive. Gimli came huffing up to them, pulling out bandages and herbs. "He'll be fine," Gimli laughed.
The arrow in the chest only hit muscle, and the stomach wound was not bleeding internally. Two lucky shots.
Borimir awoke, seeing Legolas smoking his pipe up on a distant hill. He looked at Borimir and nodded, returning to his thoughts. The Gondor warrior looked over to the sleeping hobbits and smiled. But they weren't there!
He quickly woke up the others, and Aragorn spotted a set of tracks heading into the trees. Orc tracks! They gathered up their things and ran off into the night. Aragorn looked over at Borimir, who had a look of dread on his face.
He seemed truly worried, maybe he was changed! I'd better keep an eye on him just to be sure.
Deep in thoughts of doubt, Borimir slept through the night with a heavy heart. He dreamt of Moria, in Balin's throne room. Gandalf was attacking four orcs at a time, while Frodo was seeking cover. His eyes studied Frodo, watching his every movement and not knowing why. It was the gold glint inside his jacket, it twinkled in his eyes and he walked towards it.
Reaching out, he was suddenly grabbed by a great chain. The cave troll let out a triumphant roar, and Borimir was suddenly thrown against the wall. Stunned, lying on the ground he was defenseless. Then an orc pounced on him, plunging his blade into his shoulder. He cried out, and as the foul creature prepared to strike again, and then a knife was in its throat.
And there was Aragorn, nodding his head at Borimir, who nodded back. In the dark he lay, thinking of how close he had been to death. He stood and fought on, wincing at the pain in his shoulder, and then the troll was defeated, and they were running to some bridge.
Aragorn had saved his life despite knowing he wanted the ring. Maybe he had a chance to rid himself of its grasp on him.
Then Gandalf had fallen into shadow, and resting before meeting Galadriel, he saw Frodo sobbing. Knowing he should say something, he said the only thing to comfort him he could. " Gandalf"s death was not in vein, nor would he have you give up hope," Borimir said. "You carry a heavy burden Frodo, don't carry the weight of the dead."
Frodo had looked on him a way as never before, he saw a warrior. He saw someone who was there to help him in his quest, a kind ally. But could he really trust him?
Leaving Galadriel, the Fellowship was given elven cloaks. One of the elves addressed them all, "May these cloaks shield you from unfriendly eyes. Borimir had felt as one of those pairs of eyes. He was glad to leave that place, for Galadriel seemed to peer into his soul every time she laid eyes on him.
She did not like what she saw, he could tell. Meeting her, he gasped and looked away, for he could not look into her eyes.
His next thought was of when he ran to the bridge, feeling terrible after trying to steal the ring from Frodo, but wanting to help his friend hobbits. He had grown a great bond to the hobbits Merry and Pippin.
They looked up to him as a true hero, and a great friend, he could not let them fall. Leaping to their aid, he started to slay orcs immediately. The halflings were throwing rocks, though it wasn't helping much. He blew into his horn, desperately looking around.
It showed how truly helpless the hobbits were, and how much they needed him. As he fought, he thought, "If only I can save them, then I may rid myself of this weight, this constant pressure of darkness. It clouds my vision and shrouds my judgement, no more! I no longer wish to have the ring, but only wish to protect Gondor and fight bravely onward for the White City!"
Just then he had killed his 16th orc, and he was suddenly pierced by an arrow, which burrowed into his chest. Borimir gasped and stared ahead, only seeing the mocking eye of fire, with the ring flying towards him.
He gritted his teeth and swung at the terrible eye, decapitating an orc. He could see again, and he pulled down the nearest orc and stabbed it once in the heart.
His 18th orc slain, he turned to look for more and saw an Uruk-hai, a perfected orc. He saw it pull back on its bow, and he fell to his knees, two arrows protruding from his body.
He kneeled on the ground, sobbing through heavy, labored breaths. He looked up at the hobbits, sweat pouring down his face, and he knew. Manhood had failed. The hobbits stood stunned, looking at him sadly, then they screamed. Pulling out their daggers, they rushed the orcs, a futile attack.
He stood, knowing death was eminent, and thought, "Thew will look for my coming at the white tower, but I will not return."
The second arrow pierced his stomach, and he groaned, standing up. The orcs had all run past him, the hobbits carried off.
No! I must rescue them! Striking out, he killed two more orcs. Screaming in pain and rage, he stood at 20 orcs dead, horn cloven and resting on the ground behind his feet.
One more arrow would kill him, and the Uruk-hai let loose one more arrow. It flew towards Borimir with incredible speed, and he stood, sword drawn, awaiting its arrival.
As Borimir started to leap out of the way, another arrow suddenly shot out of the trees around him. The elven arrow hit the other in mid-air, deflecting it away from him. It barely missed him, grazing his face.
A small line of blood appeared on his cheek and he fell unconscious as Aragorn jumped on the huge orc. A minute later it was over, and Aragorn ran to Borimir, tears in his eyes.
Please do not let him be dead, he thought. Shaking him and holding his head as his eyes fluttered open.
"The hobbits? Are they ok?" he asked softly. Aragorn nodded, smiling.
Borimir was free from the rings control, and still alive. Gimli came huffing up to them, pulling out bandages and herbs. "He'll be fine," Gimli laughed.
The arrow in the chest only hit muscle, and the stomach wound was not bleeding internally. Two lucky shots.
Borimir awoke, seeing Legolas smoking his pipe up on a distant hill. He looked at Borimir and nodded, returning to his thoughts. The Gondor warrior looked over to the sleeping hobbits and smiled. But they weren't there!
He quickly woke up the others, and Aragorn spotted a set of tracks heading into the trees. Orc tracks! They gathered up their things and ran off into the night. Aragorn looked over at Borimir, who had a look of dread on his face.
He seemed truly worried, maybe he was changed! I'd better keep an eye on him just to be sure.