I Run On Spite And Fury

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After another night rest somewhere on a riverbank, we go on. I notice Boromir keeps looking towards Aragorn in a way of defeat. I sit back and try to relax a bit. But I have a feeling something is going to happen.

That weird feeling in your stomach?

'The Argonath' I hear Aragorn say in awe. I open my eyes and see that we drift pass by two enormous rock statues. Both of them are images of men. Mighty men. They look like knights. Both of them are holding their swords in front of their body. Protecting the narrow gap we float into. 'Long have I desired to look upon the kings of old ... my kin' Aragorn says with an emotion in his voice I never heard before. He turns around and I feel his gaze on me. But I dare not to look.

Luckily the current takes us through the gap towards a large lake.

We arrive at the shore and I leap out of the boat.

Hallelujah, I am happy I feel steady ground beneath my feet again. I know for sure I am not a person to live on a boat.

'We cross the lake at nightfall, hide the boats and continue on foot ... we approach Mordor from the North' Aragorn announces while he and Boromir are pushing the boats on land. 'Oh, yes, just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil, an impassable labyrinth of razor-sharp rocks. And after that, it gets even better ... a festering, stinking marshland as far as the eye can see' Gimli says gloomy as he sits down on a rock by the lake. I can't help but laugh a little at his reaction. 'That is our road. I suggest you take some rest and recover your strength, Master Dwarf' Is Aragorn's reaction.

Recover your strength.

I look at Gimli and see that he is trying not to explode. Legolas rolls with his eyes, clearly not impressed. The boys are just trying not to laugh, as the same does Boromir. 'Recover my-' Gimli huffs, tightening his grip around his axe. A tension hangs in the air and I don't like it. 'I am going to get some wood for the fire' I say to no one in particular and walk into the forest.

No one responds.

Great.

If I am killed or being taken? Shall they miss me... I am not doing anything special or even a good fighter...

I begin with picking wood from the ground, gathering it on one spot, so I can take it all later back with me.

I startle a bit when I hear the bushes and the trees swish around. The wind was blowing harder and the air seems fowler..

'Boromir?' I hear Frodo's voice.

Where is he?

'None of us should wander alone; you least of all. So much depends on you ... Frodo?' Is Boromir's answer.

Why aren't they with the others?

I walk towards their voices. The pile of wood is for later care. I push some branches out of my face and now I see them. They stand in an open spot and Frodo is just turning around. But when he does, he just stares in horror at Boromir. 'I know why you seek solitude. You suffer, I see it day by day. Are you sure you do not suffer needlessly?' Boromir asks. The wind murmurs in the awkward silence. 'Let me help you. There are other ways, Frodo ... other paths that we might take' Boromir almost pleads. I take a step forward and the odd feeling is getting heavier. This isn't right. 'I know what you would say, and it would sound like wisdom but for the warning of my heart' Frodo tells him in sadness. 'Warning? Against what?' Boromir moves closer to Frodo but Frodo backs away from him. 'We're all afraid, Frodo. But to let that fear drive us to destroy what hope we have ... don't you see that is madness?'

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