Disclaimer: I'm just writing this for fun and all of the Lord of the Rings
characters used in this story belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and New Line Cinema
A/N: This story is a really weird dream that I had, so don't mind if the beginning is a little odd at first. All the events will soon play out. THIS IS NOT A MARY SUE, EVEN THOUGH IT MIGHT SEEM LIKE IT AT FIRST.
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Chapter Two:
When the Roads Meet
My uncle stepped out of the car, gesturing me to follow. When I moved out of the car, it simply evaporated.
He led me into a store called "Ancient Gifts"; an old stone building with darkly tinted windows that I thought was closed.
Soon I discovered that it was not a store and was a disguise for curious passerby.
Inside was nearly pitch black and I stumbled into several things before my uncle lit a lamp that I had just nearly knocked over. Then, the whole room glowed bright as the rest of the lamps ignited from the one flickering flame that my uncle had set alight.
The room was made completely of stone and it was enormous, stretching to be at least two-hundred feet in length. However, all there was in the room was a stone bed, seeming miniscule in the center of the gigantic room.
But as I crept closer, I saw that the "bed" was not actually a bed, and was just designed to look like one. It was really a bathtub..with someone in it.
My uncle rushed forward as the man sat up. My eyes widened. It was Boromir, son of Denethor. And he was not the only one in the tub. A woman with silvery grey hair and was much older than Boromir was with him.
*That must mother* I mused. *Finduilas was her name. But she died long ago! Something funny is going on here!* I frowned, looking coldly down at the woman. *Has she been resurrected?*
My uncle's sharp voice broke through my thoughts.
"Are you insane?" he yelled at Boromir. "If you stay in that water, you'll die!
"Don't listen to him," Finduilas crooned, smoothing down Boromir's hair.
"What do you mean I'll die?" Boromir asked angrily.
"That water is poison, son of Denethor. If you value your life, I suggest you heed my advice and stop listening to that ghost of your mother," my uncle returned with just as much venom.
Panic flew across Boromir's face as he quickly stepped out of the bath. The ghost, knowing that her disguise had been revealed, screeched and vanished in a wisp of smoke. But not before she left three long, shadowy nail marks on Boromir's chest.
"I'm not dead," Boromir exclaimed pompously after he had recovered from the initial shock.
He turned around and I winced, shutting my eyes tightly closed. I did not wish to see his standing naked in front of me.
When I opened my eyes again, I noticed that the water droplets on his face were turning black and being absorbed into his body.
I turned to my uncle for an explanation.
"We had better go now," was all he said as we watched Boromir's retreating back.
Silently, I followed him back to the white car, which had miraculously appeared, and after a ride even more painful than the first, we came back.
When we got back, I observed that no time had passed. Nobody seemed to notice our absence and worse yet, my uncle kept me preoccupied as we went back to where my parents were.
* * *
Some time later, Boromir, son of Denethor II, son of Ecthelion II died with three arrows piercing his chest.
* * *
Arwen stood on the balcony, breathing in the sweet smelling air of Rivendell. At time like these, she often wondered what her uncle, Elros, was like. He had died long ago, having chosen to be mortal instead of Elvish.
*He knew that Boromir would die* she thought sadly, and then jolted out of thought. "Wait. Where did that come from?"
A/N: This story is a really weird dream that I had, so don't mind if the beginning is a little odd at first. All the events will soon play out. THIS IS NOT A MARY SUE, EVEN THOUGH IT MIGHT SEEM LIKE IT AT FIRST.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Chapter Two:
When the Roads Meet
My uncle stepped out of the car, gesturing me to follow. When I moved out of the car, it simply evaporated.
He led me into a store called "Ancient Gifts"; an old stone building with darkly tinted windows that I thought was closed.
Soon I discovered that it was not a store and was a disguise for curious passerby.
Inside was nearly pitch black and I stumbled into several things before my uncle lit a lamp that I had just nearly knocked over. Then, the whole room glowed bright as the rest of the lamps ignited from the one flickering flame that my uncle had set alight.
The room was made completely of stone and it was enormous, stretching to be at least two-hundred feet in length. However, all there was in the room was a stone bed, seeming miniscule in the center of the gigantic room.
But as I crept closer, I saw that the "bed" was not actually a bed, and was just designed to look like one. It was really a bathtub..with someone in it.
My uncle rushed forward as the man sat up. My eyes widened. It was Boromir, son of Denethor. And he was not the only one in the tub. A woman with silvery grey hair and was much older than Boromir was with him.
*That must mother* I mused. *Finduilas was her name. But she died long ago! Something funny is going on here!* I frowned, looking coldly down at the woman. *Has she been resurrected?*
My uncle's sharp voice broke through my thoughts.
"Are you insane?" he yelled at Boromir. "If you stay in that water, you'll die!
"Don't listen to him," Finduilas crooned, smoothing down Boromir's hair.
"What do you mean I'll die?" Boromir asked angrily.
"That water is poison, son of Denethor. If you value your life, I suggest you heed my advice and stop listening to that ghost of your mother," my uncle returned with just as much venom.
Panic flew across Boromir's face as he quickly stepped out of the bath. The ghost, knowing that her disguise had been revealed, screeched and vanished in a wisp of smoke. But not before she left three long, shadowy nail marks on Boromir's chest.
"I'm not dead," Boromir exclaimed pompously after he had recovered from the initial shock.
He turned around and I winced, shutting my eyes tightly closed. I did not wish to see his standing naked in front of me.
When I opened my eyes again, I noticed that the water droplets on his face were turning black and being absorbed into his body.
I turned to my uncle for an explanation.
"We had better go now," was all he said as we watched Boromir's retreating back.
Silently, I followed him back to the white car, which had miraculously appeared, and after a ride even more painful than the first, we came back.
When we got back, I observed that no time had passed. Nobody seemed to notice our absence and worse yet, my uncle kept me preoccupied as we went back to where my parents were.
* * *
Some time later, Boromir, son of Denethor II, son of Ecthelion II died with three arrows piercing his chest.
* * *
Arwen stood on the balcony, breathing in the sweet smelling air of Rivendell. At time like these, she often wondered what her uncle, Elros, was like. He had died long ago, having chosen to be mortal instead of Elvish.
*He knew that Boromir would die* she thought sadly, and then jolted out of thought. "Wait. Where did that come from?"