@shadow975: My answer got so long, I sent it to you by e-mail. Hope it will
be satisfactory, if not, tell me!
* * *
Afterlife? No: -Aftershock!
Chapter Three
The man in light blue clothes was looking curiously at him. "Are you feeling well?"
Boromir decided that his story was too hair brained to tell. How could it be that he had been brought from the forest of Amon Hen into this white room? This room that was flooded by light brighter than the sun and with all kinds of strange iron devices inside it.
Nobody would believe him such a story. So he didn't say anything and changed the subject.
"No, my friend, I am all right. Tell me, what is Your name?"
"Oh, excuse me, I must have forgotten to introduce myself. My name is Reginald Cooper. I work here." The man answered his question hastily, holding out a hand for Boromir to shake.
Reginald Cooper's hand was just near enough for Boromir to take it and give it a shake. Yet the movement of course brought his attention back to the way he'd been tied up.
"Why am I tied to my bed?" he asked straight out. He'd always been one to be direct and wasn't about to alter his ways.
"Ah, yes, that is a good question. I think you identified yourself a bit too much with the role you are no doubt playing at some theatre. With your clothes and sword and all."
Anxiously sitting up, Boromir interrupted him. "Where is my horn?"
"There was no horn. Dear man, you really are overreacting, but let me get on with my explanation: We took those arrows from your body," Reginald Cooper shuddered, he didn't want to know just how those ugly missiles had come to rest in Boromir's body, "and let you sleep, while your body regenerated.
"In your sleep you began to thrash around and scream something about auks, or orks, or something like that. You were a danger to yourself and disturbed the other patients, so we put you into this room and tied you to the bed, so you wouldn't hurt yourself."
So he hadn't fully gotten over the defeat at Amon Hen yet, although he'd thought he had. Boromir realised. His wounded body had weakened him so much, that all the barriers in his mind had gone down and his true feelings had been revealed during his sleep.
Remembering his own fierceness, as he'd resolved to protect the two hobbits to his death, he could well imagine that his dreams had been fierce as well. Now, however, he was awake. There was no point in keeping him tied to his bed.
"My dreams have ended. You can take away the ties." He informed Reginald.
"That I will. I could then show you around the building, if you like."
It would be good to learn as much as he could of this place and with someone to explain all he saw to him, he might get a grip an his new surroundings. Gratefully, Boromir nodded.
"I would like that very much."
* * *
That's it. I won't post for a few days now. I'd like to know if you've got suggestions about the society Boromir will live in from now on. It will be difficult to adapt the story later on, so it'd be great to hear of your suggestions now.
And if you don't feel like suggesting anything, you still can review. (
* * *
Afterlife? No: -Aftershock!
Chapter Three
The man in light blue clothes was looking curiously at him. "Are you feeling well?"
Boromir decided that his story was too hair brained to tell. How could it be that he had been brought from the forest of Amon Hen into this white room? This room that was flooded by light brighter than the sun and with all kinds of strange iron devices inside it.
Nobody would believe him such a story. So he didn't say anything and changed the subject.
"No, my friend, I am all right. Tell me, what is Your name?"
"Oh, excuse me, I must have forgotten to introduce myself. My name is Reginald Cooper. I work here." The man answered his question hastily, holding out a hand for Boromir to shake.
Reginald Cooper's hand was just near enough for Boromir to take it and give it a shake. Yet the movement of course brought his attention back to the way he'd been tied up.
"Why am I tied to my bed?" he asked straight out. He'd always been one to be direct and wasn't about to alter his ways.
"Ah, yes, that is a good question. I think you identified yourself a bit too much with the role you are no doubt playing at some theatre. With your clothes and sword and all."
Anxiously sitting up, Boromir interrupted him. "Where is my horn?"
"There was no horn. Dear man, you really are overreacting, but let me get on with my explanation: We took those arrows from your body," Reginald Cooper shuddered, he didn't want to know just how those ugly missiles had come to rest in Boromir's body, "and let you sleep, while your body regenerated.
"In your sleep you began to thrash around and scream something about auks, or orks, or something like that. You were a danger to yourself and disturbed the other patients, so we put you into this room and tied you to the bed, so you wouldn't hurt yourself."
So he hadn't fully gotten over the defeat at Amon Hen yet, although he'd thought he had. Boromir realised. His wounded body had weakened him so much, that all the barriers in his mind had gone down and his true feelings had been revealed during his sleep.
Remembering his own fierceness, as he'd resolved to protect the two hobbits to his death, he could well imagine that his dreams had been fierce as well. Now, however, he was awake. There was no point in keeping him tied to his bed.
"My dreams have ended. You can take away the ties." He informed Reginald.
"That I will. I could then show you around the building, if you like."
It would be good to learn as much as he could of this place and with someone to explain all he saw to him, he might get a grip an his new surroundings. Gratefully, Boromir nodded.
"I would like that very much."
* * *
That's it. I won't post for a few days now. I'd like to know if you've got suggestions about the society Boromir will live in from now on. It will be difficult to adapt the story later on, so it'd be great to hear of your suggestions now.
And if you don't feel like suggesting anything, you still can review. (