Shield and Sword

Lea of Mirkwood

Disclaimer: Same as always.

A/N: Anyone else want to nitpick at this story and the way I write?

About the chapter: This is mostly movieverse, at least in the argument...

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"Boromir!" called Aragorn. Boromir quickly looked up.

"Aragorn!" he called back in the exact same tone. The two men exchanged wry grins, and Aragorn shook his head.

"See that little beach up ahead on the right?" he queried. At Boromir's affirmative nod, he continued. "Bring them in there."

Boromir nodded shortly and started to put his oar on the right side of the boat, but moved it to the left when he heard Merry and Pippin start to laugh. Hiding a smile of his own, he turned the boat towards the right shore, turning sharper and sharper as they got closer. He let the other two boats beach first, and pulled up after them. As the boat scraped against the bottom of the river and slid up on the sand, Boromir felt it again.

Sharp pain spreading across his chest like little explosions, blooming like flowers. Blood falling to the ground in rivers. Choking, tasting metallic blood and coughing, a racking cough. Shuddering breaths and bone-numbing cold...

Boromir shivered convulsively and gripped the sides of the boat. This time had been the worst. With every movement he made towards the beach and – he looked up at the top of the hill – Amon Hen the shivers got more pronounced. Just as he was moving to ask Aragorn if they could camp elsewhere the shivers and blossoming pain in his chest stopped. Everything went eerily quiet in his mind and all he was aware of was setting down his pack. He looked back at the shore, and watched as Legolas approached Aragorn, whispering something furtively.

Hmph.

Boromir hefted his shield up over his shoulder and stepped into the forest in search of firewood.

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The Captain of Gondor looked around, his eyes flickering about the trees. There! He bent down and picked up a piece of dry wood, putting it in the dip of his shield that he was using as a sort of basket. If only his father could see him now. He would give him a solid clout about the head for using his great shield as a basket. Boromir stepped around a tree again and picked up another branch, setting it on top of the ones already gathered. He looked up and saw a small figure standing by a large stone statue, looking up at the top of it. Frodo. He smiled, remembering when Frodo had refused to eat those few days ago.

"None of us should wander alone," said Boromir in a friendly voice, bending to pick up another stick and pointing at Frodo to emphasize his point. "You least of all. So much depends on you."

Frodo did not respond, but only glared at Boromir. Boromir felt hurt, and furrowed his brow in concern.

"Frodo?" Boromir walked towards the halfling, feeling empathy rush through his veins. "I know why you seek solitude. You suffer," he said gently. "I see it day by day."

His eyes were kindly, and he wanted Frodo to feel that he meant him no harm. But as he was saying this, and wishing him no harm he felt a tugging on his heart, and felt an urge to reach out and rip open the halfling's shirt and take the Ring, yanking it from the chain around his pale little neck.

"Are you sure you do not suffer needlessly?" The fog in his mind consumed his senses. He could see Frodo's keen eyes piercing the fog, reading his mind.

"There are other ways, Frodo," said Boromir casually, desperately. "Other paths we might take."

"I know what you would say," whispered Frodo in a steady, even voice, taking a slow step to the side. "And it would seem like wisdom but for the warning in my heart."

Boromir felt the fog turn red with his anger and irritation. Warning? "Warning?" said Boromir, frowning and taking a step towards Frodo, who backed away. "Against what?"

Frodo backed off sideways, taking measured, even steps, everything controlled, but Boromir felt his fear. Boromir turned around in a circle, following Frodo as the hobbit backed away. With every step Frodo took, Boromir matched it.

"We are all afraid, Frodo," said Boromir in a low, urgent voice. "But to let that fear drive us to destroy what hope we have...don't you see, that is madness!"

"There is no other way!" said Frodo firmly, stopping. Boromir stopped also, his face contorting furiously. He gritted his teeth and glared at Frodo darkly.

"I ask only for the strength to defend my people!" growled Boromir, throwing his shield to the ground. "If you would but lend me the Ring-"

"No!" said Frodo quickly, stepping backwards. Boromir stepped forward, his mouth open like a predator.

"Why do you recoil, I am no thief!" he said slowly, feeling the fog grow thicker.

"You are not yourself," said Frodo rationally, stepping back again. His movements were slow, and his voice calm, as though he were trying to escape a beast.

Boromir heard a rushing noise in his ears, and white noise fog filled all his senses. He blinked dumbly for a moment, his eyes darkening and his gaze becoming more hateful. Dark, evil eyes.

"What chance do you think you have?" he breathed. With every word he spoke he spoke louder and louder until he was yelling. "They will find you. They will take the ring. And you will beg for death before the end!"

Frodo made a decision and started walking away from Boromir, very fast. Boromir's face contorted again and he started to stalk quickly after the hobbit.

"Fool!" he spat. "It is not yours save by unhappy chance! It could have been mine, it should be mine, give it to me!" he roared, bending down and grabbing his shield.

"No!" cried Frodo, seeing his intent. Boromir growled like an animal and yanked hard on Frodo's leg. The hobbit fell down hard, tumbling down a small slope and landing in the leaves, writhing furiously and trying to escape Boromir's booted foot that was now firmly on his shoulder. Frodo cried out as Boromir drove his shoulder into the ground.

"No!" he screamed.

"Give it to me!" howled Boromir. "Give it to me!"

Frodo squirmed out from underneath his foot and reached inside his shirt for the Ring. As his finger slowly moved towards the circle of gold Boromir raised the shield high above his head and swung it. The round shield struck Frodo in the temple, knocking him backwards as the halfling slipped on the Ring. He vanished. Boromir let out an animal-like cry and turned around in a circle. He did not see the invisible Frodo drag himself in the hollow underneath a fallen statue and weep, feeling the bruise and scrape on his temple and the ache in his head.

"I see your mind!" he hissed loudly, spinning in a circle, the Captain of Gondor with a wild look in his eyes. "You will take the Ring to Sauron! You will betray us!"

He ran off into the wood.

"Curse you! Curse you! And all the halflings to death and destruction!"

Boromir slipped and fell to the ground, his shield falling beside him and clanking against his sheathed sword. He lay as though dead, but then suddenly convulsed with a sob. He clutched at the leaves and wept furiously.

"Frodo! What have I done!" he cried, and out of the corner of his eye he saw the slight smear of blood on the side of his shield. "Frodo! I'm sorry! A madness took me, but it has passed! Frodo!"

Frodo did not answer, but he slipped off the Ring.

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I would have gotten up another chapter for Morning Rising, but my cousin came over and I had to be hostess.