Heyla, EHAB here! Thank you to the wonderful reviewers of Chapters Twenty-
Seven and Twenty-Eight. Some very pertinent questions were asked that I
would like to address one by one, if you'll permit me.
#1: Yes, the 'Eldarin Star-Dome' does indeed refer to Elrond.
#2: At the end of Chapter Twenty-six, readers will remember that there was a "yank." Chapters Twenty-Seven through approximately Thirty-Nine deal with what has happened to each of the characters after and as a result of that "yank." The fate of Legolas will be revealed in one of these chapters. Which? Read to find out ;)!
#3: Sivi's mother is NOT an Elf. However, I don't intend to tell you what she actually IS right now (evil grin). Once again, read to find out ;)!
And now for your personal enjoyment, Chapter Twenty-Nine: And Nobody Knows
Boromir began to run blindly, his senses clouded by grief, fear, and guilt. What have I done? Was the only conscious thought that he remained capable of entertaining. Leaves and twigs crackled beneath his leather boots. He could not hear them. Dark, lumbering shadows moved recklessly through the woods around him. He did not notice them - not, at least, at first. Then the path sloped unexpectedly downward, and he stumbled. Looking up through a valance of filthy, cedar-coloured hair, he saw two Halflings. Meriadoc... Peregrin... for the last hour or more, he had forgotten their existence. Painfully, he recalled the hills of Hollin, where he had taught them, wrestled with them, and laughed with them. Yet now, he had betrayed them.
His eyes watched them and saw them only. They were fighting exactly as he had taught them. Then the cobwebs in his mind began to clear as he realized at last: Fighting...? They're fighting!
With a cry, his hand felt for the leather grip of his sword-hilt. A metallic ring echoed throughout the forest as Boromir the Bold became suddenly mighty again. Leather and metal... he could feel them through his fur-lined gloves. They made him feel powerful beyond reproach, as though by wielding them he could reclaim his honour and the pride of his people. In his culture, it was so. Prowess in battle erased a man's misdeeds. So he would fight - perhaps he would even die - for Meriadoc and Peregrin, for Frodo, for Aragorn's continued trust, and for himself.
He swung, felt his blow connect, and swung again in a different direction. He did not see his foes, because of the sweat in his eyes, but fought from pure instinct. The Hobbits stood amazed. He fought the orcs away from the stone bridge and into a secluded hollow as the Halflings clung, terrified, to the hem of his leather jerkin.
He felt, of an instant, two new presences in the clearing. One of these was foul; vile; black. The other... For the first time, Boromir truly raised his eyes. A girl?
Wait... Christina thought. OK, elf-dudes, what is up with this? What is the business? This is SO not Lorien, and that Boromir guy is SO supposed to be dead. Hunh... 'e's kinda cute, though. Hey, Sivi saved Gil-galad. If she can do it, I can do it. But I think I'm a-gonna do it a bit different, though.
Thus decided, she pulled an automatic pistol from within her pullover jacket and took aim at the massive Uruk that had just thundered into the hollow. This was the orc that was supposed to slay Boromir. In point of fact, it had just lifted its coarse metal bow and fitted an outlandishly thick-shafted arrow with bristly, grey feathers. As he knocked t, Christina had to snicker.
OK, that arrow SO looks like a toilet-bowl brush.
Just then, Christina was knocked from her feet by what sounded like a foghorn erupting not two feet away. Boromir had sounded the Horn. Christina struggled back onto her feet, blessing Heaven for the mercy of her revolver's not having gone off during her fall.
She re-aimed the pistol at the Uruk's head and fired one shot. At the unfamiliar cracking noise, all in the clearing stopped and stared at her. Then, they followed her gaze.
The Uruk made no sound at all. The profusely flowing red bindhi between its eyes said everything Christina needed to know. It fell forward with a thud.
"Who's next?" Christina demanded of the stupefied orc-band.
A sudden burst of noise exploded as the orcs began to flee the glade. Two of them managed to make off with Merry and Pippin in the confusion. Since neither Merry nor Pippin was supposed to die, Christina let it go. Soon, she and Boromir were alone in the clearing.
Smacking the butt of her gun into the palm of her left hand, Christina sauntered over to a still-dazed Boromir and pistol-whipped him hard. He crumpled to the ground, drenched in sweat and orc-blood but unadorned with "toilet-bowl brush" arrows. Christina ducked behind a beech as Aragorn came crashing heedlessly into the hollow.
Aragorn cried out, dropped to his knees, and began shaking Boromir violently. 'That's it,' Christina thought dryly, 'rattle his brains out. That'll make him feel better.' Aragorn began shaking Boromir so hard that the younger man's head bashed the earth with each jerk. 'Good grief, I saved his life, and now this guy's gonna kill 'im,' Christina mused.
Finally, Boromir woke up. What with Christina's blow and Aragorn's shaking, the poor man was a bit confused.
"They took the little ones," he gasped, not able to remember much else.
"Be still," Aragorn murmured.
A surge of guilt struck Boromir like a hammer in the midst of all of his half-sensical thoughts.
"Frodo! Where is Frodo?"
Carefully, Aragorn replied,
"I let Frodo go."
"Then you did what I could not," Boromir admitted miserably. "I tried to take the Ring from him."
"The Ring is beyond our reach now," Aragorn said, without judgment in his voice.
"Forgive me," Boromir pleaded. "I did not see. I have failed you all."
Tears started into Aragorn's terrible, expressive eyes.
"No, Boromir. You fought bravely; you have kept your honour."
He raised a hand to wipe the orc-blood from Boromir's face, but Boromir gripped him convulsively.
"Leave it! It is over. The world of Men will fall, and all will come to darkness, and my city to ruin."
A note of uncertainty brought itself forth in Boromir's voice and visage. The fiery pain in his head convinced him he was dying. Aragorn alone was left to save Gondor.
"I do not know what strength is in my blood," Aragorn said, "but I swear to you: I will not let the White City fall... nor our people fail."
"Our people?" Boromir gasped, fighting to retain consciousness. "OUR people?"
Aragorn nodded, weeping.
'Oh, good grief, get ON with it,' Christina thought in exasperation. 'I've got places to be, and I've gotta take him with me. Maybe Galadriel will know what to do with him.'
"I would have followed you, my brother... my captain... my king," Boromir managed, then fainted away. Christina waited for Aragorn to flip out and start shaking him again, but Aragorn only kissed Boromir's brow and whispered,
"Be at peace, Son of Gondor."
'Great, he thinks he's dead,' thought Christina. 'What is this guy, blind? Well, I guess he's just really tired.'
Legolas and Gimli came running into the glade. After realizing what had happened - or what they thought had happened - they bowed their heads and mourned fittingly. Then they began to make plans for Boromir's burial.
'Shoot,' Christina thought. 'I forgot they drop 'im over that stupid Jacuzzi faucet. OK, how am I gonna fix THIS little booboo?"
She slipped away through the woods until she came to the river, then Gollum-like, swam after Frodo's and Sam's boat to the other side. After the two Hobbits had gone, she waited in the shadows of the trees until the Three Hunters had lain Boromir's body in the boat and pushed it off. They then turned respectfully away, and Christina dove into the rushing waters, swam quickly out to the middle of the river, and grasped the boat's hithlain tether. Fighting the lethal current, which had not been half so strong when she first crossed - ah, but she was nearer the falls this time, that would be it --, she hauled the boat back to the eastern shore as the Three Hunters raced into the woods on the opposite bank.
"Need to make sure somebody finds this," she muttered, tossing Boromir's cleft Horn into the River.
"I saved Boromir," Christina panted, dripping water all over the Gondorian's unconscious form as she leaned on the rim of the boat. "I did it! I saved Boromir!"
Then she stopped.
"Wait... I saved Boromir... and nobody knows!"
#1: Yes, the 'Eldarin Star-Dome' does indeed refer to Elrond.
#2: At the end of Chapter Twenty-six, readers will remember that there was a "yank." Chapters Twenty-Seven through approximately Thirty-Nine deal with what has happened to each of the characters after and as a result of that "yank." The fate of Legolas will be revealed in one of these chapters. Which? Read to find out ;)!
#3: Sivi's mother is NOT an Elf. However, I don't intend to tell you what she actually IS right now (evil grin). Once again, read to find out ;)!
And now for your personal enjoyment, Chapter Twenty-Nine: And Nobody Knows
Boromir began to run blindly, his senses clouded by grief, fear, and guilt. What have I done? Was the only conscious thought that he remained capable of entertaining. Leaves and twigs crackled beneath his leather boots. He could not hear them. Dark, lumbering shadows moved recklessly through the woods around him. He did not notice them - not, at least, at first. Then the path sloped unexpectedly downward, and he stumbled. Looking up through a valance of filthy, cedar-coloured hair, he saw two Halflings. Meriadoc... Peregrin... for the last hour or more, he had forgotten their existence. Painfully, he recalled the hills of Hollin, where he had taught them, wrestled with them, and laughed with them. Yet now, he had betrayed them.
His eyes watched them and saw them only. They were fighting exactly as he had taught them. Then the cobwebs in his mind began to clear as he realized at last: Fighting...? They're fighting!
With a cry, his hand felt for the leather grip of his sword-hilt. A metallic ring echoed throughout the forest as Boromir the Bold became suddenly mighty again. Leather and metal... he could feel them through his fur-lined gloves. They made him feel powerful beyond reproach, as though by wielding them he could reclaim his honour and the pride of his people. In his culture, it was so. Prowess in battle erased a man's misdeeds. So he would fight - perhaps he would even die - for Meriadoc and Peregrin, for Frodo, for Aragorn's continued trust, and for himself.
He swung, felt his blow connect, and swung again in a different direction. He did not see his foes, because of the sweat in his eyes, but fought from pure instinct. The Hobbits stood amazed. He fought the orcs away from the stone bridge and into a secluded hollow as the Halflings clung, terrified, to the hem of his leather jerkin.
He felt, of an instant, two new presences in the clearing. One of these was foul; vile; black. The other... For the first time, Boromir truly raised his eyes. A girl?
Wait... Christina thought. OK, elf-dudes, what is up with this? What is the business? This is SO not Lorien, and that Boromir guy is SO supposed to be dead. Hunh... 'e's kinda cute, though. Hey, Sivi saved Gil-galad. If she can do it, I can do it. But I think I'm a-gonna do it a bit different, though.
Thus decided, she pulled an automatic pistol from within her pullover jacket and took aim at the massive Uruk that had just thundered into the hollow. This was the orc that was supposed to slay Boromir. In point of fact, it had just lifted its coarse metal bow and fitted an outlandishly thick-shafted arrow with bristly, grey feathers. As he knocked t, Christina had to snicker.
OK, that arrow SO looks like a toilet-bowl brush.
Just then, Christina was knocked from her feet by what sounded like a foghorn erupting not two feet away. Boromir had sounded the Horn. Christina struggled back onto her feet, blessing Heaven for the mercy of her revolver's not having gone off during her fall.
She re-aimed the pistol at the Uruk's head and fired one shot. At the unfamiliar cracking noise, all in the clearing stopped and stared at her. Then, they followed her gaze.
The Uruk made no sound at all. The profusely flowing red bindhi between its eyes said everything Christina needed to know. It fell forward with a thud.
"Who's next?" Christina demanded of the stupefied orc-band.
A sudden burst of noise exploded as the orcs began to flee the glade. Two of them managed to make off with Merry and Pippin in the confusion. Since neither Merry nor Pippin was supposed to die, Christina let it go. Soon, she and Boromir were alone in the clearing.
Smacking the butt of her gun into the palm of her left hand, Christina sauntered over to a still-dazed Boromir and pistol-whipped him hard. He crumpled to the ground, drenched in sweat and orc-blood but unadorned with "toilet-bowl brush" arrows. Christina ducked behind a beech as Aragorn came crashing heedlessly into the hollow.
Aragorn cried out, dropped to his knees, and began shaking Boromir violently. 'That's it,' Christina thought dryly, 'rattle his brains out. That'll make him feel better.' Aragorn began shaking Boromir so hard that the younger man's head bashed the earth with each jerk. 'Good grief, I saved his life, and now this guy's gonna kill 'im,' Christina mused.
Finally, Boromir woke up. What with Christina's blow and Aragorn's shaking, the poor man was a bit confused.
"They took the little ones," he gasped, not able to remember much else.
"Be still," Aragorn murmured.
A surge of guilt struck Boromir like a hammer in the midst of all of his half-sensical thoughts.
"Frodo! Where is Frodo?"
Carefully, Aragorn replied,
"I let Frodo go."
"Then you did what I could not," Boromir admitted miserably. "I tried to take the Ring from him."
"The Ring is beyond our reach now," Aragorn said, without judgment in his voice.
"Forgive me," Boromir pleaded. "I did not see. I have failed you all."
Tears started into Aragorn's terrible, expressive eyes.
"No, Boromir. You fought bravely; you have kept your honour."
He raised a hand to wipe the orc-blood from Boromir's face, but Boromir gripped him convulsively.
"Leave it! It is over. The world of Men will fall, and all will come to darkness, and my city to ruin."
A note of uncertainty brought itself forth in Boromir's voice and visage. The fiery pain in his head convinced him he was dying. Aragorn alone was left to save Gondor.
"I do not know what strength is in my blood," Aragorn said, "but I swear to you: I will not let the White City fall... nor our people fail."
"Our people?" Boromir gasped, fighting to retain consciousness. "OUR people?"
Aragorn nodded, weeping.
'Oh, good grief, get ON with it,' Christina thought in exasperation. 'I've got places to be, and I've gotta take him with me. Maybe Galadriel will know what to do with him.'
"I would have followed you, my brother... my captain... my king," Boromir managed, then fainted away. Christina waited for Aragorn to flip out and start shaking him again, but Aragorn only kissed Boromir's brow and whispered,
"Be at peace, Son of Gondor."
'Great, he thinks he's dead,' thought Christina. 'What is this guy, blind? Well, I guess he's just really tired.'
Legolas and Gimli came running into the glade. After realizing what had happened - or what they thought had happened - they bowed their heads and mourned fittingly. Then they began to make plans for Boromir's burial.
'Shoot,' Christina thought. 'I forgot they drop 'im over that stupid Jacuzzi faucet. OK, how am I gonna fix THIS little booboo?"
She slipped away through the woods until she came to the river, then Gollum-like, swam after Frodo's and Sam's boat to the other side. After the two Hobbits had gone, she waited in the shadows of the trees until the Three Hunters had lain Boromir's body in the boat and pushed it off. They then turned respectfully away, and Christina dove into the rushing waters, swam quickly out to the middle of the river, and grasped the boat's hithlain tether. Fighting the lethal current, which had not been half so strong when she first crossed - ah, but she was nearer the falls this time, that would be it --, she hauled the boat back to the eastern shore as the Three Hunters raced into the woods on the opposite bank.
"Need to make sure somebody finds this," she muttered, tossing Boromir's cleft Horn into the River.
"I saved Boromir," Christina panted, dripping water all over the Gondorian's unconscious form as she leaned on the rim of the boat. "I did it! I saved Boromir!"
Then she stopped.
"Wait... I saved Boromir... and nobody knows!"