A/N: I have switched the flow of this story slightly. In the first two
chapters I updated on both Boromir's and the rest of the Fellowship's doings.
Since I'm getting farther into the story and more involved, I feel it would
be best to stick with one or the other for an entire chapter. Thank you for
your patience as it has taken me a while to get this written and typed up. As
always, feel free to be completely honest in any review you feel like
posting. Thank you!
```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````` ``
Gondor's Bane
Part Three: Dreams and Warnings
Boromir sat on the ground eating his meal. He tried to think of his plans for
when he reached Minas Tirith, but his thoughts kept returning to the Company
he had left behind.
"There was no way I could have stayed," he reasoned. "If I had turned back,
they would have had the Ring within their grasp. No, this was the only way."
Then Boromir heard the whispers again. They said dark and evil things to him.
He did not speak the language the whispers spoke, but he had heard it before
from those foul creatures known as Orcs. The words could not be kind if they
were spoken in such a tongue.
Boromir shuddered slightly. He was a brave man, and had stood and fought
valiantly many times before, but these whispers struck fear into his heart,
the like of which he had never known.
The whispers spoke of battle, death and torture--all far worse than any
Boromir had ever experienced or witnessed before. He knew the Ring wished for
him to wield it. He also knew that the Ring could see that that was also his
wish. While fearful of what he heard, Boromir was also enticed by the Ring,
and deceived.
"If I use this Ring, I will be powerful, and I will save my country," he
thought. He touched the clothing that covered the Ring. "This shall save my
people."
A noise behind him made Boromir jump. He leapt to his feet and unsheathed his
sword as he turned quickly around.
Peering into the darkness, Boromir clutched his shield, perspiration
appearing on his brow.
"Why do they not attack?" Boromir wondered. "Why are they waiting?"
He stepped forward, considering calling whoever was there to come forward. As
he opened his mouth to shout, a small rabbit came into view. Boromir lowered
his shield and sword.
"I must need rest," he said to himself. He watched the rabbit as it hopped
away. Setting his shield down and sheathing his sword, the future steward of
Gondor lay down to take the aforementioned rest. He was afraid to sleep now,
for the Ring made him anxious, but he knew he should at least lie down for a
while.
He fought sleep off for a few hours, but his eyes eventually slid shut and he
drifted to sleep.
As he slept, Boromir began to dream. In his dream he was walking through
Lorien once again. He felt at peace as he walked, the fair voices of Elves
singing somewhere in the trees.
Boromir suddenly came upon Galadriel. She stood in all her beauty and
radiance before him, looking off into the distance.
"Lady," he said softly, bowing.
Galadriel turned slowly to face Boromir as he pulled himself back to his full
height. Her eyes burned into his, and he had to look away. The look on her
face had been one of anger and sadness; of disappointment and displeasure.
"Boromir, son of Denethor, you did not heed the warnings," he heard her say
in his mind. "You were tempted, and you failed. There is still time, however.
You must seek the Fellowship and return the Ring to Frodo. If you do not do
this, Middle-earth is doomed."
"Lady," Boromir thought in return, "I do this to save Middle-earth. I shall
not use it to harm any but those who serve Sauron. Do you not see that my
intentions are pure?"
"Do not be deceived. Though your heart be pure now, if you continue with this
journey, it will be poisoned as your mind has been. Return the One Ring, and
do not wield it," Galadriel told him. "The fate of us all rests with you.
Choose wisely."
Boromir started to protest, but the forest faded, and Galadriel went with it.
Boromir found himself now in Gondor, surrounded by familiar faces. The faces
smiled warmly at him as he walked through the streets of Minas Tirith. He
eventually reached his father, Denethor.
Denethor welcomed his son with a hug. Boromir's brother Faramir was also
there. Faramir smiled at his brother, but Boromir saw something else in his
eyes. He couldn't be sure, but he thought it was terror.
Then Boromir saw the Ring. It floated before him, leading him back to the
streets. As he passed Faramir and Denethor, each of them fell to the ground,
neither one breathing. The same thing happened to each person on the street
that he passed.
At the gate of the city he saw the Fellowship. Frodo reached up to take the
Ring back, but Boromir quickly pulled out his sword. As he lifted it over the
hobbit, prepared to strike should Frodo take hold of the Ring, Boromir awoke,
breathing hard. Wiping a hand across his brow, he sighed with relief.
"It was but a dream," he said to himself; ''nothing more."
Still, Boromir had his doubts about this. He reached for the Ring and held it
up, looking at it again.
"So small," he muttered. "So seemingly insignificant... Why, then, am I
frightened by its enormity?"
chapters I updated on both Boromir's and the rest of the Fellowship's doings.
Since I'm getting farther into the story and more involved, I feel it would
be best to stick with one or the other for an entire chapter. Thank you for
your patience as it has taken me a while to get this written and typed up. As
always, feel free to be completely honest in any review you feel like
posting. Thank you!
```````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````````` ``
Gondor's Bane
Part Three: Dreams and Warnings
Boromir sat on the ground eating his meal. He tried to think of his plans for
when he reached Minas Tirith, but his thoughts kept returning to the Company
he had left behind.
"There was no way I could have stayed," he reasoned. "If I had turned back,
they would have had the Ring within their grasp. No, this was the only way."
Then Boromir heard the whispers again. They said dark and evil things to him.
He did not speak the language the whispers spoke, but he had heard it before
from those foul creatures known as Orcs. The words could not be kind if they
were spoken in such a tongue.
Boromir shuddered slightly. He was a brave man, and had stood and fought
valiantly many times before, but these whispers struck fear into his heart,
the like of which he had never known.
The whispers spoke of battle, death and torture--all far worse than any
Boromir had ever experienced or witnessed before. He knew the Ring wished for
him to wield it. He also knew that the Ring could see that that was also his
wish. While fearful of what he heard, Boromir was also enticed by the Ring,
and deceived.
"If I use this Ring, I will be powerful, and I will save my country," he
thought. He touched the clothing that covered the Ring. "This shall save my
people."
A noise behind him made Boromir jump. He leapt to his feet and unsheathed his
sword as he turned quickly around.
Peering into the darkness, Boromir clutched his shield, perspiration
appearing on his brow.
"Why do they not attack?" Boromir wondered. "Why are they waiting?"
He stepped forward, considering calling whoever was there to come forward. As
he opened his mouth to shout, a small rabbit came into view. Boromir lowered
his shield and sword.
"I must need rest," he said to himself. He watched the rabbit as it hopped
away. Setting his shield down and sheathing his sword, the future steward of
Gondor lay down to take the aforementioned rest. He was afraid to sleep now,
for the Ring made him anxious, but he knew he should at least lie down for a
while.
He fought sleep off for a few hours, but his eyes eventually slid shut and he
drifted to sleep.
As he slept, Boromir began to dream. In his dream he was walking through
Lorien once again. He felt at peace as he walked, the fair voices of Elves
singing somewhere in the trees.
Boromir suddenly came upon Galadriel. She stood in all her beauty and
radiance before him, looking off into the distance.
"Lady," he said softly, bowing.
Galadriel turned slowly to face Boromir as he pulled himself back to his full
height. Her eyes burned into his, and he had to look away. The look on her
face had been one of anger and sadness; of disappointment and displeasure.
"Boromir, son of Denethor, you did not heed the warnings," he heard her say
in his mind. "You were tempted, and you failed. There is still time, however.
You must seek the Fellowship and return the Ring to Frodo. If you do not do
this, Middle-earth is doomed."
"Lady," Boromir thought in return, "I do this to save Middle-earth. I shall
not use it to harm any but those who serve Sauron. Do you not see that my
intentions are pure?"
"Do not be deceived. Though your heart be pure now, if you continue with this
journey, it will be poisoned as your mind has been. Return the One Ring, and
do not wield it," Galadriel told him. "The fate of us all rests with you.
Choose wisely."
Boromir started to protest, but the forest faded, and Galadriel went with it.
Boromir found himself now in Gondor, surrounded by familiar faces. The faces
smiled warmly at him as he walked through the streets of Minas Tirith. He
eventually reached his father, Denethor.
Denethor welcomed his son with a hug. Boromir's brother Faramir was also
there. Faramir smiled at his brother, but Boromir saw something else in his
eyes. He couldn't be sure, but he thought it was terror.
Then Boromir saw the Ring. It floated before him, leading him back to the
streets. As he passed Faramir and Denethor, each of them fell to the ground,
neither one breathing. The same thing happened to each person on the street
that he passed.
At the gate of the city he saw the Fellowship. Frodo reached up to take the
Ring back, but Boromir quickly pulled out his sword. As he lifted it over the
hobbit, prepared to strike should Frodo take hold of the Ring, Boromir awoke,
breathing hard. Wiping a hand across his brow, he sighed with relief.
"It was but a dream," he said to himself; ''nothing more."
Still, Boromir had his doubts about this. He reached for the Ring and held it
up, looking at it again.
"So small," he muttered. "So seemingly insignificant... Why, then, am I
frightened by its enormity?"