A changed fate

Author note: If any of you readers want a small brain challenge, try to spot which parts of Tolkien's original text from the last chapter in the Fellowship of the Ring and first chapter in the Two Towers books which I changed slightly to suit the fanfic better. / Rogercat

~X~X~X~X~X~X

26 February T.A. 3019, Amon Hen:

Boromir felt uneasy about Frodo being alone, away from the others in the Fellowship. Sure, he could understand that the hobbit was facing a difficult choice in choosing where to go next, and there had to be many thoughts in the mind of the Ring-bearer.

"I will try to take a quick rest. My sleep at night has been restless lately because I worry about what may have happened in Gondor while I have been north and it have been difficult to sleep for as long as I would need," he told the others, using his shield to cover his face from the sunlight and borrowing one of the bed rolls as an improvised pillow.

"Sounds like a wise idea until Frodo comes back," the Dwarf Gimli agreed, positioning himself to quickly wake up Boromir if it became needed, and using the time to check over his broad-bladed ax.

But soon, Boromir woke up again, like from a nightmare in how he suddenly sat up, and none of the others could miss the fear in his eyes as he gasped for breath, and how he held one fist tightly over the brooch which held his mantle together.

"I dreamt a nightmare where my little brother was one of the men who fell at Osgiliath last summer…" he whispered, trying to remind himself that Faramir was still alive and back home in Minas Tirith.

The One Ring. It had to be that cursed thing, trying to temper him and ensnare him with false promises. Boromir knew that his desire to protect his homeland and its people was both a great strength and a major flaw at the same time, two sides of the same coin. The soul-piece of Sauron within the Ring must be sensing his worries, and perhaps intending to use him.

When the others were distracted by Aragorn telling the tales of Gondor and its past on the request of the other hobbits who knew next to nothing about the Mannish realm so far from their own Shire in the northern lands, Boromir carefully picked up his shield, weapons and sneaked away from the camp.

Soon Boromir could see Frodo between the trees, sitting with his chin in hand, staring eastwards but seeing little with his eyes, an understandable sign that the Hobbit had not yet made his choice of where to go next. As he walked closer, Boromir felt the brooch with the sun and spear of House Martell somehow almost pulsating like a beating heart.

"Give me the strength to resist the Ring, please…!" he begged, whatever it was to the Valar or the river goddess which Elia worshipped, and almost at once, an image of Faramir and Éowyn awkwardly smiling at each other with blushing cheeks from the coronation of Théodred and Elia in Rohan over four and a half years ago flashed in his mind. And a new image of Lothíriel, her large belly showing all the signs of that she soon would be a mother, as she gave Éomer one of her hair ribbons for good luck as he would ride out with his men. Finally, of Théodred and Elia, with their family.

"Yes...I must resist...for them!"

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Suddenly Frodo awoke from his thoughts: a strange feeling came to him that something was behind him, that eyes were upon him. He sprang up and turned; but all that he saw to his surprise was Boromir, and his face was smiling and kind.

"I was afraid for you, Frodo," the future Steward said, coming forward. "If Aragorn is right and Orcs are near, then none of us should wander alone, and you least of all: so much depends on 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. Where there are so many, all speech becomes a debate without end. But two together may perhaps find wisdom."

"You are kind," answered Frodo, "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."

Boromir stood silent, but nodded faintly in understanding. Somewhere behind them, Rauros roared endlessly on. The wind murmured in the branches of the trees and made Frodo shiver in unease.

"Frodo...Do not choose Gondor," Boromir finally managed to say in a strained voice, holding desperately to the brooch as he felt the Ring start whispering in his ears again, "Please, please do not. There are many there who would fall for the Ring's powers, men who I can see myself in, and the wife of my best friend, Queen Elia of Rohan...nearly fourteen years ago, she and the children from her first marriage were almost murdered. If that man, who tried to have them murdered back then, would fall for the false promises which the Ring would temper him with ..."

He could recall Elia telling of Tywin Lannister, of his ambitions and goals for his family though the idea of marrying his only daughter into the royal family of Westeros before they lost their throne in that rebellion which had created a new dynasty and how he would become a perfect puppet in the hands of Sauron while still thinking that he would remain the one in control.

"Boromir...are you afraid of what may happen if the Ring comes to Gondor? That people will be drawn to it, and try to take it?"

Frodo meant no disrespect, but his voice held some alarm over this.

"Yes. Yes, that is exactly what I am trying to say. The Ring is too dangerous to bring near Gondor...go east, Frodo! Go east! Do not come anywhere near the borders of the Kingdoms here, if Aragorn can lead you there! I must return home! My people, everyone I care for, they need me back in Minas Tirith! If you others go east, then I must go west and protect Gondor..." Boromir openly pleaded, sensing in his mind how the magic from Rhaenys and Aegon inside the brooch struggled against the Ring. Sauron was a Maia, near the powers of the Valar, and they were just mortals with inherited magic. The difference in power was beginning to reveal itself.

"I hear your advice, Boromir, but why are you…"

But a strange roar was now heard in the wind behind them, and the glowing of Sting, the sword which Bilbo Baggins had given Frodo to help being ready on enemies being near, told them enough when its current owner checked by dragging the sword half-way out of its scabbard.

"Run, Frodo. Run! Run!"

Hearing the desperation in Boromir's voice for him to not stay here and risk getting caught by the enemy, Frodo obeyed, leaving the Man to face the Uruk-hai sent out by Saruman to catch the Ring-bearer and bring him as a captive to Isengard.

On the other hand, the rest of the Fellowship had now noticed that Frodo had been away for a pretty long time, and that Boromir was nowhere to be seen either. Given the seriousness of the situation, and their own worries for Frodo, was perhaps not that strange that Samwise Gamree spoke what seemed to be on their minds:

"We must try and find him at once. Come on!"

"Wait a moment!" cried Aragorn in an attempt to avoid the situation turning worse, "We must divide up into pairs, and arrange here, hold on! Wait!"

It was no good. They took no notice of him. Sam had dashed off first, out of concern for his master. Merry and Pippin had followed, and were already disappearing westward into the trees by the shore, shouting: Frodo! Frodo! in their clear, high hobbit-voices. Legolas and Gimli were running. A sudden panic or madness seemed to have fallen on the Company.

"We shall all be scattered and lost," groaned Aragorn, hoping that Boromir, at least, had found Frodo and that the pair were on the way back to the camp.

Aragorn sprang swiftly away and went in pursuit of Sam. Just as he reached the little lawn among the rowans he overtook the hobbit, toiling uphill, panting and calling: Frodo!

"Come with me, Sam!" he offered in a gentle voice, "None of us should be alone. There is mischief about. I feel it. I am going to the top, to the Seat of Amon Hen, to see what may be seen. And look! It is as my heart guessed, Frodo went this way. Follow me, and keep your eyes open!" He sped up the path.

Sam did his best, but he could not keep up with Strider the Ranger, and soon fell behind. He had not gone far before Aragorn was out of sight ahead. Sam stopped and puffed. Suddenly he clapped his hand to his head.

"Whoa, Sam Gamgee!" he said aloud, "Your legs are too short, so use your head! Let me see now! Something scared Mr. Frodo badly. He screwed himself up to the point, sudden. He made up his mind at last to go. Where to? Off East. Not without Sam? Yes, without even his Sam. That's hard, cruel hard."

Sam passed his hand over his eyes, brushing away the tears.

"Steady, Gamgee!" he told himself, "Think, if you can! He can't fly across rivers, and he can't jump waterfalls. He's got no gear. So he's got to get back to the boats. Back to the boats! Back to the boats, Sam, like lightning!"

Sam turned and bolted back down the path, hearing the Horn of Gondor somewhere in the distance.

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Meanwhile, Merry and Pippin had been forced to come to a dead stop, else they would have run straight into some of the Uruk-hai which Boromir was trying to kill.

"Do not come near, you have no armour as protection against their swords and arrows!"

Cursing mentally as he raised his sword for a new blow and blocking another attack with his shield, Boromir wondered why they had failed to grab some of the Dwarven chainmail in Moria when the Fellowship had been there, and requesting the Elves of Lorien to adjust the size to better fit Merry, Pippin and Sam, since Frodo already was well protected by the coat of rare mirthil which he had gotten from Bilbo alongside Sting. Yes, it would have been stealing from the dead, a crime which was punishable in all the cultures Boromir knew of, but surely Gimli may have agreed on the logic that it was to protect the hobbits in the current situation and sometimes it was better to accept punishment for a crime at later date.

"Watch your head, Boromir!"

Grabbing a few good-sized stones, the two hobbits revealed that while their race had never been warlike, their skill in using all things of tools, bows and in this case, simple stones to try and hit a fatal hit to the heads of the Uruk-hai despite their helmets, was not to be underestimated.

"Good hits, now run from here!"

Dropping his shield to blow his horn once again and then to use his sword in both hands, Boromir tried to keep a wider distance from the two hobbits so the enemies would not get their hands on them that easily.

But in Minas Tirith, his father Denethor was seeing this scene happening in the , and for the current Steward of Gondor, his Heir refusing to bring Frodo and the One Ring to Gondor to try and hide it so Sauron would not get his hands on it right within his own domains, was a act of betrayal.

Boromir! Bring the Ring to Gondor!

But what Denethor could not have known, was that his attempt to reach out to his oldest son would prove to be a fatal mistake. As he saw an black-feathered arrow bury itself into the chest of Boromir despite all his layers of protection, the brooch to his mantle was gleaming far too strong to be a reflection of sunlight and for a moment, the magic of the Palantír and the brooch linked together.

Denethor was pushed away from the Palantír down on the floor like something invisible forced him back, blood dripping from his mouth as he felt a sudden pain in the left side of his chest, exactly the spot where Boromir had been shot. And then several more all over the front of his body.

"This power...the magic...the descendants of...the Shadow of the East….!"

He had used the Palantír to find out the true history of Elia and House Martell over the past years, and despite seeing that they were firmly against Sauron and his forces, them being descendants of Khamûl, the second most powerful Nazgûl after the Witch-King of Angmar, Denethor did not want to see House Martell overshadow the efforts of himself and his sons in this war.

"Boromir…"

But the internal bleedings from the arrow wounds, which he now had received in his son's place, overwhelmed Denethor when the image of Boromir now vanished and it was only with pure willpower, the same willpower that made him use the Palantír for years to contest his will against Sauron's and not being overpowered, that allowed him to get out of the chamber.

"My son…"

Despite attempting to not fall down the stairs, the inner bleeding made him lightheaded very fast and one wrong step as he tried to support himself against the wall, proved fatal.

"Lord Denethor!?" one of the servants called out at hearing the voice cry out, followed by the alarming sound of something landing at the end of the stone stairs.

"Father!"

However, Faramir would arrive too late to save his father from a deadly hit with his head on one of the middle stone steps, and since the inner bleedings was not visible on the outside of the body, everyone who gathered around the dead Steward believed that his death honestly was a accident caused by losing his footing on one of the upper steps for some reason and then falling down the very, very long and narrow staircase in the tower without managing to grab something in time to stop the fall.

"Brother...please come home quickly! We need you here to lead us!" Faramir managed to whisper for himself, holding Denethor's dead body in his arms and crying in grief over what just had happened. Until Boromir came home or they had proper news about something happening to him as well, his younger brother would need to act as a temporary Steward.

~X~X~X~X~X~X

A mile, maybe, from Parth Galen in a little glade not far from the lake Aragorn found Boromir sitting with his back to a great tree, as if he was resting. But Aragorn saw that he was pierced with many black-feathered arrows; his sword was still in his hand, but it was broken near the hilt; his horn cloven in two was at his side. Many Orcs lay slain, piled all about him and at his feet.

"Boromir!"

When Aragorn knelt beside him to check on the wounds which the arrows must have left inside his body, Boromir opened his eyes and strove to speak. At last slow words came:

"They have gone, the Halflings: the Orcs have taken them. But I think they are not dead, as the Orcs bound them before running off…"

His grey, exhausted glance strayed to his fallen enemies around them both, twenty at least, and his eyes closed wearily. After a moment he tried to speak again, but Aragorn gently hushed him to be quiet and offered his own belt for Boromir to bite in, as Aragorn needed to remove the arrows.

"My foster-father in Imladris and his twin sons would be very disappointed in me, if I had not learned how to operate wounds out in the wildness like this, though as Elrond himself have said and as I have learned, sometimes there is no time for some form of painkiller to take effect…"

It was the understandable, muted howls of pain from Boromir that guided Legolas and Gimli to where the two Men were. They came from the western slopes of the hill, silently, creeping through the trees as if they were hunting. Gimli had his axe in hand, and Legolas his long knife: all his arrows were spent. When they came into the glade they halted in amazement; and then they hurried forwards to see if there was anything they could help with.

"Legolas, help me support Boromir between us two. I have managed to remove the arrows, but I need to check over the wounds and clean them better at the boats. Gimli, please get ahead to the boats and see if you can get the fire alight again, most of the wounds need to be sewn and I must sterilize one of the needles to sew with to avoid Boromir getting a life-threatening infection later."

"My late uncle Óin would be pleased to hear such wisdom from someone else trained by a healer. He was the medic in the Company to reclaim Erebor and I can recall from my childhood how he would scold anyone who could not do any proper first-aid or similar treatment needed on wounds," the Dwarf spoke, then hurrying along the path to do as Aragorn had requested. Once Boromir had gotten his injuries treated, they could talk about what to do now with Merry and Pippin taken as prisoners, and not knowing what had become of Frodo and Sam yet.

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Author's note: Due to Boromir not being Elia's husband, he only knows the most basic things of Robert's Rebellion like that Rhaegar openly abandoned her, Rhaenys and Aegon for a younger girl who was betrothed to someone else, Aerys murdering said girl's father and oldest brother, and that it was Robert's Targaryen blood from his grandmother Rhaelle which gave him the Iron Throne. And that Tywin would really want Elia and her children dead so Cersei could get the Queen crown which the Martell Princess would have gotten, had Rhaegar lived

Mithril was a precious silvery metal, stronger than steel but much lighter in weight, which was mined by the Dwarves in the mines of Khazad-dûm, the only place it could be found, and could be beaten and polished without being weakened or tarnished. Of all items made of mithril, the most famous is the "small shirt of mail" retrieved from the hoard of the dragon Smaug, and given to Bilbo Baggins by the Dwarven King Thorin II Oakenshield.

The palantíri (sometimes translated as "Seeing Stones") were stones that could be used in communication with one another, and also to see many things across the face of the world. When its master looked in it, he could communicate with other Stones and anyone who might be looking into them; people of great power can manipulate the Stones to see virtually any part of the world.

It's often overlooked, but Denethor used the Palantír for years to contest his will against Sauron's, but was not overpowered the way Saruman was (despite Saruman being a Maia, a being on the same order as Sauron). The reason Sauron shifted from attempting to dominate Denethor directly to pushing him over the Despair Event Horizon was because Denethor's will was too strong. It is also stated that Denethor was protected from corruption by the fact that he, as Steward ruling in the king's stead, possessed the legitimacy to use the Palantír, something that Saruman lacked.

Óin being mentioned by his nephew Gimli as the medic of the Company of Thorin II Oakenshield during the Quest for Erebor, is a nod towards his role as such in the Hobbit movies, especially as Tolkien himself does not mention anything such in the original Hobbit book