Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, or places. I am only borrowing them, and I promise to return them alive and unspoiled when I am finished with them.
A lot of the dialogue in the beginning of this chapter comes straight out of The Fellowship of the Ring. It won't all be like that -- this story is, after all, fairly Alternate Universe.
The Burden is Heavy
Chapter 2. Two May Find Wisdom
Frodo stared at Boromir. His eyes bored into the Man, who smiled comfortingly at him. Once again, Boromir was shocked and saddened by the incredible strain that showed through in Frodo's watchful blue eyes, and angered at the worry crease above his brows which had not been there when the left Imladris. For a second he wavered. Should you not succeed, he warned his reckless, dutiful self, there shall be only another care and trouble to lay upon this one's shoulders. He will not trust you. None of them will trust you.
But is there good reason that I should fail? he asked himself. Of course there was not and the second's doubt only strengthened his resolve in the end. Stepping over a fallen log toward the Hobbit he said,
"I was afraid for you, Frodo. If Aragorn is right and Orcs are near, then none of us should wander alone, and you least of all: so much depends upon you. And my heart too is heavy. May I stay now and talk for a while, since I have found you? It would comfort me." He thought of the useless council he had just left, and was angered by the others' useless chitchat. Why must he act alone? Where was Isildur's Heir, who could have claimed the Ring for himself if Boromir must be denied?
Like a fool, he fears the burden upon his high Númenorean shoulders. But he could carry it without such pain.
Boromir continued, "Where there are so many, all speech becomes a debate without end. But two together may perhaps find wisdom." Frodo responded haltingly and his voice caught slightly at the end.
"You are kind. But I do not think that any speech will help me. For I know what I should do, but I am afraid of doing it, Boromir: afraid."
Why did he wish not for another's advice? Boromir was puzzled. He tried again.
"Are you sure that you do not suffer needlessly? I wish to help you. You need counsel in your hard choice. Will you not take mine?" Frodo swallowed, and spoke carefully.
"I think I know already what counsel you would give, Boromir. And it would seem like wisdom but for the warning in my heart." So he would refuse. Boromir was aggrieved, but his conviction remained strong.
Fool, sneered his menacing mind voice. He will bring himself and the world to ruin. You must take it! Instead of being bothered by the violent manner of this suggestion, Boromir dully agreed with it. He did not notice that his hands, weary of trembling, had come to rest on his sword belt, one on the hilt. Neither did Frodo. His eyes were fixed still on Boromir, who answered with a cracking voice.
"Warning? Warning against what?"
A low buzzing started in Boromir's head. He ignored it.
"Against delay. Against the way that seems easier. Against refusal of the burden that is laid on me. Against – well, if it must be said, against trust in the strength and truth of Men." Frodo said each word carefully, though he was not sure it was wise to be so straightforward. But that, after all, was the nature of Hobbits – they were not meant to be deceiving creatures. He waited for Boromir's reply with growing dread.
"Yet that strength has long protected you far away in your little country, though you knew it not."
And now I am glad, Frodo thought wearily. Let the strife stay in the South – let me complete my task! For it is the only way, Boromir: do you not see it?
No, you don't. I feared it was so. We will fall to ruin if you hinder me, and you most of all. For you, the downward climb has already begun. "I do not doubt the valour of your people. But the world is changing. The walls of Minas Tirith may be strong, but they are not strong enough. If they fail, what then?"
"We shall fall in battle valiantly. Yet there is still hope that they will not fail."
Not if the Ring penetrates them first. Do not ask this of me!
"No hope while the Ring lasts." At these words glint appeared in the Man's eyes, as if reflecting the gold band that he desired but could not yet see. Frodo shivered and almost backed away, but held steadfast. He prepared himself for the inevitable request. He must not give Boromir the Ring! He would not!
"Ah! The Ring! Is it not a strange fate that we should suffer so much fear and doubt for so small a thing? So small a thing! And I– I have– I–"
He gasped then, clutching at his chest, and stared at Frodo through bloodshot eyes. Frodo felt suddenly a strange protectiveness, and began to edge away. But Boromir straightened, and seemed to radiate strength and power. Before Frodo could react, the Man lunged and grabbed his shoulders with both hands. It was impossible to escape such a firm grip, though Frodo struggled like a wild thing. It seemed that the same madness that had only moments before taken hold of Boromir was now coursing through Frodo.
Intelligible thought had almost deserted the Hobbit completely, save for the last before the madness took him: Boromir must not get the Ring. "No!" he hissed, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.
Boromir's eyes were wild; his hands were shaking, though they clutched Frodo by the shoulders hard enough to bruise. His voice was steady and it penetrated the clouds in Frodo's mind.
"I have only seen it for an instant in the house of Elrond. Could I not have a sight of it again?"
The Hobbit was jerked back to coherent thought, and he was frightened. Fear shrouded him like an icy mist. Boromir's hands were like hot iron, branding their mark on him. He slapped at the Man's elbows, which were as far as his arms would extend. But it was futile; all Frodo's efforts had no hope of shaking Boromir. The Ring had taken him completely, Frodo knew. Boromir the Man was his friend, but this vessel of Sauron was not. Frodo shouted his defiance, "No! It is mine! My task! It has been entrusted to me! You shall not take the Ring, nor shall you take me!"
Boromir's eyes glazed, and it seemed that an immense internal struggle was taking place in the depths of his mind. His voice was then softer, though his hands strayed not from Frodo's shoulders and his grip was just as strong. "How can you understand your words? This is no small task you speak of! Yet there is another way, though the so-called 'Wise' would not have you see it! What would it matter to them, the life of one or many of we who shall die naturally in the course of things? Minas Tirith: you have not seen the seven great walls of my City. You have but seen the valour of one man alone, though were that Man to carry the Ring…why? Why should Boromir not carry the Ring? The Ring would give me power of Command. How I would drive the hosts of Mordor, and all men would flock to my banner!" The mad glint in his eyes was back. Frodo knew he was utterly helpless, unless another of the Company should come upon then. But he had asked for solitude, and it had been given.
It was indeed foolish to wander from the safety of the group. Frodo knew that now, but belatedly. Boromir was speaking again, but his tone was now mocking.
"Come, come, my friend! Why not get rid of it? Why not be free of your doubt and fear? You can say that I was too strong and took it by force. For I am too strong for you, halfling!" His grip changed, and Frodo found his feet swept out from under him, and the knees of the stronger Man dug into his chest so he could not rise. Fear greyed his vision.
Boromir held both his wrists away from his body with one hand in a death grip. He fumbled for a certain gold chain under Frodo's shirt. His eyes were crossed, and he mumbled insanely to himself. That was the last thing Frodo saw before he passed out.
Author's Notes:
So, so, terribly sorry about the ridiculously long wait. It shall not happen again. I swear by Glorfindel that it shall not happen again. But a friend and I have been working on a joint story, and that seems to have kicked me somewhat back into gear. Thank you, Aerlalaith!
Things are picking up though – we're straying away from canon I do hope I'm making the transition somewhat believable. This is my first try at major A/U, and all comments and criticism are appreciated. Oh, yes, and the chapters will get longer also. But I was afraid that if I didn't end it there, it would never get posted.
I have no Internet at home anymore (it was not my idea). So even once I start writing more regularly, expect slowish updates. Nowhere near as slow as this one, though.
Thank you muchly to reviewers of the first chapter! I suppose you may have noticed that the plot line has changed rather dramatically from its original direction. I hope you like it as much as you liked the beginning!