Whew! 5 reviews in less than 24 hours! I guess I'll go on writing, then. (
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Afterlife? No: -Aftershock!
Chapter Two
He came to again with a funny feeling in his body. he felt numb and very alert at the same time. He had the feeling he was floating, while he distinctly sensed hard ground beneath his body. His mind was behaving queerly too: It took up all the sensations coming his way, but didn't in the least react to them.
He was cold, yet his mind didn't seem to feel like telling his arms to wrap his cloak nearer to his body. Aggravated, he tried to pull himself together; No son of Gondor let himself go like this!
He actually managed to move his hand upwards to his shoulder, when something stopped him. Some light, yet strong cloth was wound round his wrist and held his hand back. Angrily, he jerked his hand upward, to no avail.
Not bent on giving up, he tugged again. It was then, that a hand wrapped itself round his lower arm and he realised that he wasn't alone.
The contact alerted his senses and his reactions to their full extent and he was able to move quickly again.
With a snap, he opened his eyes and pulled hard at the cloth holding his left hand, to wipe the hand off his arm. He had expected to see the face of a man or an elf, maybe even a dwarf or .., yes, a hobbit. If none of these, it would have to be the face of an orc, he thought, but what he saw seemed to fit into none of these races.
He was nearly as small as a dwarf, but had the long slim fingers of an elf. His face was round and jolly as a hobbits, but his eyes were alarmingly similar to Gandalf's. He wore clothes the colour of the sky in high summer and held an iron made device in his hand, as if it were reading it like a book.
The man, for Boromir looked at him as being a man, had jerked back in alarm at the sudden movement of his patient, but his face broke into a smile only shortly afterwards.
"Calm down, the danger is over."
Boromir actually relaxed, a bit. "No, my dear friend, the shadow is ever rising." He answered heavily. "But I thank you for the short respite under your roof while I lay wounded. Be assured, that Boromir, son of Denethor, Lord of the Tower of Guard, never forgets to repay a debt."
The man only looked puzzled. "I beg your pardon? I know you were wearing some queer clothes when you were brought here and I suppose you are part of some show or other, but don't you think you are exaggerating a bit, playing your part even in sickbed?"
Now it was Boromir's turn to be puzzled. then he paled.
*** "And he might benefit also. Let's see if living in a time where titles are nearly worthless and swordplay is of no use may help him change to the better."
"Yippee! I thought you'd agree, but now I've actually heard you say so.!" ***
He distinctly remembered the glee in the second voice. Could it be true? Had he really been transported into another spot in time? Or was his mind just playing tricks on him?
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I know, I haven't told you much, but hey, what's the fun in just telling? That would seriously blight the suspense! Don't forget to review! I love feedback!
* * *
Afterlife? No: -Aftershock!
Chapter Two
He came to again with a funny feeling in his body. he felt numb and very alert at the same time. He had the feeling he was floating, while he distinctly sensed hard ground beneath his body. His mind was behaving queerly too: It took up all the sensations coming his way, but didn't in the least react to them.
He was cold, yet his mind didn't seem to feel like telling his arms to wrap his cloak nearer to his body. Aggravated, he tried to pull himself together; No son of Gondor let himself go like this!
He actually managed to move his hand upwards to his shoulder, when something stopped him. Some light, yet strong cloth was wound round his wrist and held his hand back. Angrily, he jerked his hand upward, to no avail.
Not bent on giving up, he tugged again. It was then, that a hand wrapped itself round his lower arm and he realised that he wasn't alone.
The contact alerted his senses and his reactions to their full extent and he was able to move quickly again.
With a snap, he opened his eyes and pulled hard at the cloth holding his left hand, to wipe the hand off his arm. He had expected to see the face of a man or an elf, maybe even a dwarf or .., yes, a hobbit. If none of these, it would have to be the face of an orc, he thought, but what he saw seemed to fit into none of these races.
He was nearly as small as a dwarf, but had the long slim fingers of an elf. His face was round and jolly as a hobbits, but his eyes were alarmingly similar to Gandalf's. He wore clothes the colour of the sky in high summer and held an iron made device in his hand, as if it were reading it like a book.
The man, for Boromir looked at him as being a man, had jerked back in alarm at the sudden movement of his patient, but his face broke into a smile only shortly afterwards.
"Calm down, the danger is over."
Boromir actually relaxed, a bit. "No, my dear friend, the shadow is ever rising." He answered heavily. "But I thank you for the short respite under your roof while I lay wounded. Be assured, that Boromir, son of Denethor, Lord of the Tower of Guard, never forgets to repay a debt."
The man only looked puzzled. "I beg your pardon? I know you were wearing some queer clothes when you were brought here and I suppose you are part of some show or other, but don't you think you are exaggerating a bit, playing your part even in sickbed?"
Now it was Boromir's turn to be puzzled. then he paled.
*** "And he might benefit also. Let's see if living in a time where titles are nearly worthless and swordplay is of no use may help him change to the better."
"Yippee! I thought you'd agree, but now I've actually heard you say so.!" ***
He distinctly remembered the glee in the second voice. Could it be true? Had he really been transported into another spot in time? Or was his mind just playing tricks on him?
* * *
I know, I haven't told you much, but hey, what's the fun in just telling? That would seriously blight the suspense! Don't forget to review! I love feedback!