Speaking of "Posessed by a Plot Bunny"...
Oct. 17th, 2004 11:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
were_lemur...I wanted to get the one-shot out of the way first, I fully intended to, but...I just couldn't get this out of my head. So I decided...maybe I'd better just go with it.
It's part 1 of who knows how many it'll end up being, and a rough draft.
LotR, AU, starting at Amon Hen. Pairing...none yet. Yet. PG-13-ish for implied violence.
Usual Disclaimer...these characters aren't mine (which is probably a good thing, otherwise I'd never leave the house.) Not making any money off this. I have an 18 year old pickup truck and lots of student loans, so suing me would be pointless, anyhow.
Again, it's a rough draft.
By the time the Uruks had finally been beaten off, Aragorn was exhausted. He sagged against a tree, gasping for breath.
But he could not allow himself more than a moment’s rest. He pushed himself upright. “Frodo!” he called. “Sam!” Fear clawed at him; what if the hobbits had been taken?
He’d seen the two of them not long ago, talking in earnest tones. At the time, he’d been relived; he’d seen Boromir’s gear leaning unattended against the tree and feared the worst.
He hadn’t, he realized, seen Boromir either.
“Boromir!”
It wasn’t Boromir that answered, though, but Legolas. “Aragorn! Come quickly!”
Such was the panic in the elf’s voice that he ran, to find Legolas crouched above Gimli. The latter was sitting, clutching his leg. An uruk arrow, black and thick, protruded from his thigh.
“It’s just a flesh wound, I tell you,” the Dwarf was protesting. “But they took Pippin and Merry!”
Aragorn bent to inspect the Dwarf’s wound. “Tell me what happened,” he ordered.
“I heard them shouting, and came to help. But that damned archer -- ” He winced.
“My throwing-axe brought him down, but he managed to loose an arrow as he fell.” Gimli winced, as Aragorn drew the arrow out. “Else I would have been able to rescue them.”
“We’ll get them back.” Aragorn pulled him to his feet. “I have bandages down by the boats. As soon as you’re patched up and we find the others, we’ll go after them.” He looked up at the Elf. “Legolas, see if you can find them.”
The Elf nodded, and took off. It seemed to take forever to get Gimli down the hillside.
Once they were there, though, he had a shock. One of the boats was missing. He thought he could make it out, on the water…but he would need the Elf’s sharp eyes.
“Legolas! Come quickly!”
“Why would they have fled?” Gimli demanded. “Why would they have just left us?”
“I don’t know,” Aragorn admitted.
Just then, Legolas came hurrying down. Aragorn pointed out the retreating speck. “Can you see?”
“I see Sam. And…Frodo is with him?”
“And Boromir?” The cold fear was back.
“No.” Legolas hurried to the other boats. “Quickly…we can still catch them.”
“No.”
“What?”
“They would not have left without reason.” And he was afraid he knew what that reason was. “Split up,” he said. “We have to find Boromir as quickly as possible.” And if this is his doing…
His dark thoughts accompanied him, as he searched the woods. It wasn’t long, though, before a bit of color caught his eye; red, the color Boromir’s tunic, the color of blood. Aragorn came at a run, to find him sprawled face-down, motionless among the leaves. There was blood…so much blood, that Boromir’s blond hair was red. Aragorn knelt beside the other man, feeling for a pulse.
And found one, steady and strong.
He probed the back of Boromir’s head, and found a half-circular cut. It looked like he’d been hit with something…a shield, maybe? But the size was wrong.
Besides that didn’t make any sense. If the Uruks had come upon Boromir unawares, why not just kill him?
He called for Legolas and Gimli, then continued his examination of Boromir, running his hands down the man’s sides to feel for injury, and finding none. He laid his cloak down so that he wouldn’t get dirt into Boromir’s wound, and rolled him gently onto it.
“Is he -- “
He looked up to see Gimli standing awkwardly, worriedly.
“He’s alive.” He stroked a few strands of bloodied hair back from Boromir’s face. “Head wounds bleed a lot. I can find no other injury.”
“What happened?”
“It looks like he was hit from behind. Behind and slightly above.” Unless he’d been on his knees…
“Hard enough to…kill him?”
“I do not think so.” He shook the younger man’s shoulder. “Boromir, wake up.”
There was no response. “Gimli, do you have a waterskin with you?”
The other man handed him a small canteen, and he sprinkled some water on Boromir’s face. The other man moaned, his eyelids beginning to flutter.
“Boromir, come back to me. Come back to us.”
Boromir moaned, and squeezed his eyes shut. “Too bright.”
Aragorn cupped his eyes to shade Boromir’s eyes. “Is that better?”
“Better…” His eyes fluttered again, and then jerked all the way open. He sat upright, quickly enough to throw Aragorn off his balance. Aragorn nearly fell backwards, but Boromir’s hand latched onto the neckline of his tunic, holding him upright. His eyes bored into Aragorn’s, as he dragged him in close.
Close enough to see the raw terror in his eyes. Close enough to feel the exhale of gasped breaths. Close enough to hear the raw rasp of his voice as he demanded, “Who am I?”
It's part 1 of who knows how many it'll end up being, and a rough draft.
LotR, AU, starting at Amon Hen. Pairing...none yet. Yet. PG-13-ish for implied violence.
Usual Disclaimer...these characters aren't mine (which is probably a good thing, otherwise I'd never leave the house.) Not making any money off this. I have an 18 year old pickup truck and lots of student loans, so suing me would be pointless, anyhow.
Again, it's a rough draft.
By the time the Uruks had finally been beaten off, Aragorn was exhausted. He sagged against a tree, gasping for breath.
But he could not allow himself more than a moment’s rest. He pushed himself upright. “Frodo!” he called. “Sam!” Fear clawed at him; what if the hobbits had been taken?
He’d seen the two of them not long ago, talking in earnest tones. At the time, he’d been relived; he’d seen Boromir’s gear leaning unattended against the tree and feared the worst.
He hadn’t, he realized, seen Boromir either.
“Boromir!”
It wasn’t Boromir that answered, though, but Legolas. “Aragorn! Come quickly!”
Such was the panic in the elf’s voice that he ran, to find Legolas crouched above Gimli. The latter was sitting, clutching his leg. An uruk arrow, black and thick, protruded from his thigh.
“It’s just a flesh wound, I tell you,” the Dwarf was protesting. “But they took Pippin and Merry!”
Aragorn bent to inspect the Dwarf’s wound. “Tell me what happened,” he ordered.
“I heard them shouting, and came to help. But that damned archer -- ” He winced.
“My throwing-axe brought him down, but he managed to loose an arrow as he fell.” Gimli winced, as Aragorn drew the arrow out. “Else I would have been able to rescue them.”
“We’ll get them back.” Aragorn pulled him to his feet. “I have bandages down by the boats. As soon as you’re patched up and we find the others, we’ll go after them.” He looked up at the Elf. “Legolas, see if you can find them.”
The Elf nodded, and took off. It seemed to take forever to get Gimli down the hillside.
Once they were there, though, he had a shock. One of the boats was missing. He thought he could make it out, on the water…but he would need the Elf’s sharp eyes.
“Legolas! Come quickly!”
“Why would they have fled?” Gimli demanded. “Why would they have just left us?”
“I don’t know,” Aragorn admitted.
Just then, Legolas came hurrying down. Aragorn pointed out the retreating speck. “Can you see?”
“I see Sam. And…Frodo is with him?”
“And Boromir?” The cold fear was back.
“No.” Legolas hurried to the other boats. “Quickly…we can still catch them.”
“No.”
“What?”
“They would not have left without reason.” And he was afraid he knew what that reason was. “Split up,” he said. “We have to find Boromir as quickly as possible.” And if this is his doing…
His dark thoughts accompanied him, as he searched the woods. It wasn’t long, though, before a bit of color caught his eye; red, the color Boromir’s tunic, the color of blood. Aragorn came at a run, to find him sprawled face-down, motionless among the leaves. There was blood…so much blood, that Boromir’s blond hair was red. Aragorn knelt beside the other man, feeling for a pulse.
And found one, steady and strong.
He probed the back of Boromir’s head, and found a half-circular cut. It looked like he’d been hit with something…a shield, maybe? But the size was wrong.
Besides that didn’t make any sense. If the Uruks had come upon Boromir unawares, why not just kill him?
He called for Legolas and Gimli, then continued his examination of Boromir, running his hands down the man’s sides to feel for injury, and finding none. He laid his cloak down so that he wouldn’t get dirt into Boromir’s wound, and rolled him gently onto it.
“Is he -- “
He looked up to see Gimli standing awkwardly, worriedly.
“He’s alive.” He stroked a few strands of bloodied hair back from Boromir’s face. “Head wounds bleed a lot. I can find no other injury.”
“What happened?”
“It looks like he was hit from behind. Behind and slightly above.” Unless he’d been on his knees…
“Hard enough to…kill him?”
“I do not think so.” He shook the younger man’s shoulder. “Boromir, wake up.”
There was no response. “Gimli, do you have a waterskin with you?”
The other man handed him a small canteen, and he sprinkled some water on Boromir’s face. The other man moaned, his eyelids beginning to flutter.
“Boromir, come back to me. Come back to us.”
Boromir moaned, and squeezed his eyes shut. “Too bright.”
Aragorn cupped his eyes to shade Boromir’s eyes. “Is that better?”
“Better…” His eyes fluttered again, and then jerked all the way open. He sat upright, quickly enough to throw Aragorn off his balance. Aragorn nearly fell backwards, but Boromir’s hand latched onto the neckline of his tunic, holding him upright. His eyes bored into Aragorn’s, as he dragged him in close.
Close enough to see the raw terror in his eyes. Close enough to feel the exhale of gasped breaths. Close enough to hear the raw rasp of his voice as he demanded, “Who am I?”
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no subject
Date: 2004-11-06 06:57 pm (UTC)