A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews! I loved reading them! ^___^
Sorry about how Chapter 17 came out. I didn't mean for it to be so…stretched. I'm not sure what I did to it. *shrug*
Only two people asked to be notified if WU is updated, so this is just a reminder that if you would like to be notified, please send me an e-mail at Enednilwen@aol.com or tell me in your review. Thanks. ^__^
I got the idea for this chapter while I was listening to the LOTR DVD while I worked on another story (yes, I listen to DVDs, I'm so weird). It was perfected after a short walk around the house with my trusty tape recorder. Long live tape recorders!
Anyway, on to the chapter! Yay!
En*
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Disclaimer: I only own Steph, the Ultimate Grievance of Boromir.
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Chapter 18- Daily Quarrels
The wind whipped loose strands of Steph's hair into her face as the two rode on, their speed much increased by Boromir's need to get to Gondor faster. Steph looked mournfully at the sky and sighed heavily, wishing she were anywhere but there. She would have given anything to be back home, even back in school, stealing Sara's paper and smirking as Sara hissed under her breath that Steph was going to get caught one day for chewing gum in class, sounding more and more like an old woman with each word.
She shivered involuntarily at the last thought. Old woman. The antics of the Unseen One had left her shaken, though she was trying her best to hide it. Boromir had been acting oddly ever since that conversation, and she didn't want to make it worse by transforming him into a complete lunatic.
Her thoughts turned to Boromir, and his words; "Gondor has excellent healers, Steph. I am sure they will be able to heal you."
For the first time, Steph felt almost glad that Boromir was there with her. He was all she had in this cold, unfamiliar, and dangerous world. No matter what she did, she would have to grudgingly admit that without Boromir, she would be dead.
But of course, she reminded herself, without me, Boromir would be dead too. It was beginning to make sense to her, why she had come back. She was completely defenseless, and though she hated to say it, ignorant of the ways of Middle Earth. She could never leave Boromir, because she was so dependent on him. She was the perfect life support. Without realizing it, she had rested her head on his back, with an almost content look on her face.
Even through the whistling wind, she could hear Boromir grumbling to himself. She rolled her eyes.
"What are you bitching about now?" she asked.
"It is none of your concern." He snarled over his shoulder. Steph looked slightly taken aback.
"Well whatever it is, you don't have to take it out on me. I was just asking a question, assclown."
He sneered at her. "I care not for your sympathies, woman."
She mimicked his sneer. "I care not for your attitude."
"Be silent!"
"You!"
"I am trying to think, and you are intruding!"
"I really could care less!"
"Silence!"
"QUIT BITCHING AT ME!"
Even without the increased roaring of the wind, the two had to shout to be heard at talking level while riding the horse. Now bickering, the wind was almost unnoticeable compared to the noise they were making.
With an irritated sigh, Boromir brought his voice down to a shout instead of the roar he had been using.
"Give me a moment of peace, woman! Let me collect my thoughts!"
Steph was still making more noise than necessary. "Then tell me what you're grumbling about!"
Boromir did not answer her.
When they stopped for the night, Boromir began grumbling to himself more. After watching him intently for a few minutes, Steph threw a nearby rock at him and once again demanded to know what he was grumbling about.
"If I tell you, will you leave me to my thoughts and be silent?" he asked, sighing tiredly.
She agreed.
"I can only think, that if the foolish hobbit had only given the ring to Gondor, as I had suggested, perhaps things would not have happened in this way."
Steph raised an eyebrow at him. She studied him for a moment, before throwing another rock at him. "Haven't you learned anything?"
He glared at her. "What are you talking about?"
"Hmm, let's see…" she said, looking upwards in mock contemplation, "Could it have anything to do with the fact that you wouldn't be dead in the first place if it weren't for that thought?"
His glare still held. "I think that you know nothing of what you speak of."
"And I think that you just don't want to admit I'm right."
"Right?" he sneered, "You believe yourself to be right? What kind of fool are you? If the halfling had taken my counsel, and gone to Minas Tirith as I said, my father, the Steward of Gondor, could have used it against the servants of Morgoth!"
Steph scowled at him. "So this is what it was all about then? You only wanted to see glory for your father and yourself! You're obsessed with making yourself look good!"
Boromir leap to his feet in rage, looking more frightening than Steph had ever seen him. "My principle concern has always been and will always be Gondor." He said clearly and menacingly, his eyes narrowing to slits, "Do not be so quick to judge me."
Steph stared at him for a moment, frightened of what he might do next. Convinced that he was finished, she stood to face him. "I'm sorry for saying what I did," she said slowly, her blue green eyes never leaving his grey ones, "but I'm not going to lie to you and pretend you're not being a moron. Frodo was right to do what he did with the Ring, and had he listened to you, Sauron would have already won."
Loathing was in his eyes. "I feel the Halfling will be the doom of us all." He muttered.
"Well you shouldn't worry about that, by the time we've won, you'll probably be dead." She smirked at her wit, before Boromir's words sunk in. "What do you mean, he'll be the doom of us all?"
"A dream I had, the dream that caused me to seek the council of Elrond Half Elven."
Steph's interest was captured. "What was it?"
"The eastern sky grew dark, and there was a growing thunder, but in the West a pale light lingered and out of it I heard a voice, crying:
Seek for the Sword that was broken:
In Imladris it dwells;
There shall be counsels taken
Stronger than Morgul-spells.
There shall be shown a token
That Doom is near at hand,
For Isildur's Bane shall waken,
And the Halfling forth shall stand."
"It didn't say anything about Minas Tirith. I think it means the doom of Middle Earth." She said slowly, scratching her neck thoughtfully.
Boromir scowled. "Aragorn said the same."
Steph shrugged, not comprehending.
"I believe it predicts that the Halfling will be the doom of our world."
She rolled her eyes. "You're being crazy. Everything's going the way it should."
"The Ring of Power is better as a weapon in the hands of Gondor, not destroyed by a Halfling!" Boromir snarled, his hands forming into fists.
"It would be taken eventually!" Steph snapped, irritated by his thick headedness. "Do you happen to remember the events that led up to your death?" When he didn't answer, she continued. "You tried to take the Ring from Frodo, he ran away, and realizing your mistake, you rushed off to protect Merry and Pippin, later getting yourself killed. Did you ever think that someone was trying to tell you something? Like, you're supposed to destroy the Ring? Did you ever stop and think that the reason you were sent back was to redeem yourself for your stupidity, not fall right back into your old mindset?"
Boromir scowled, but raised his eyes to meet hers. "Your words are well chosen. Perhaps you are right." Turning his back to her, he scanned the horizon. "Go to sleep. You will need your strength for the road ahead."
Sighing irritably, Steph went to sleep. "I really hope he listens to me…"
"Steph, get up." Boromir's sharp tone cut through her dream.
She blinked in the darkness. "It's still dark. The Sun's not even up yet." She put her arms over her head. "Go away. Five more minutes."
"The Sun is indeed up." He snapped, nudging her none too gently with his foot, "Though by some evil it is hidden."
He cast a dark look at the sky, hidden by a dark cloud, from which small amounts of light leaked through. "This can not be a good sign." He muttered to Steph as he mounted the horse.
Steph looked fearfully at the sky with a feeling of foreboding. Her sleepiness was gone, replaced with an unknown fear.
"We must make haste." Said Boromir as she clumsily mounted the horse after him, "I feel no good will come of this day."
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A/N: Just to let you know, the dream Boromir described is Tolkien's, and you can find it on page 276 of The Fellowship of the Ring.