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TIME - February 26 The Breaking of the Fellowship
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grammaboodawg
Immortal


Feb 26 2007, 10:02am

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TIME - February 26 The Breaking of the Fellowship Can't Post

Today in Middle-earth.


February 26, 3019 (S.R. 1419)1. Death of Boromir; his horn is heard in Minas Tirith.
(from the appendices)
... "Aragorn sprang swiftly away and went in pursuit of Sam. Just as he reached the little lawn among the rowans he overtook him, toiling uphill, panting and calling, Frodo!
... 'Come with me, Sam!' he said. '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! Boromir isn't lying, that's not his way; but he hasn't told us everything. 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 said. '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. He fell and cut his knees. Up he got and ran on. He came to the edge of the lawn of Parth Galen by the shore, where the boats were drawn up out of the water. No one was there. There seemed to be cries in the woods behind, but he did not heed them. He stood gazing for a moment, stock-still, gaping. A boat was sliding down the bank all by itself. With a shout Sam raced across the grass. The boat slipped into the water.

... '...I read the signs aright,' [Aragorn] said to himself. 'Frodo ran to the hill-top. I wonder what he saw there? But he returned by the same way, and went down the hill again.'
... Aragorn hesitated. He desired to go to the high seat himself, hoping to see there something that would guide him in his perplexities; but time was pressing. Suddenly he leaped forward, and ran to the summit, across the great flag-stones, and up the steps. Then sitting in the high seat he looked out....
... ...Even as he gazed his quick ears caught sounds in the woodlands below, on the west side of the River. He stiffened. There were cries, and among them, to his horror, he could distinguish the harsh voices of Orcs. Then suddenly with a deep-throated call a great horn blew, and the blasts of it smote the hills and echoed in the hollows, rising in a mighty shout above the roaring of the falls.
... 'The horn of Boromir!' he cried. 'He is in need!' He sprang down the steps and away, leaping down the path. 'Alas! An ill fate is on me this day, and all that I do goes amiss. Where is Sam?'"

... [Faramir speaking with Frodo] "'Five days ere I set out on this venture, eleven days ago at about this hour of the day, I heard the blowing of that horn: from the northward it seemed, but dim, as if it were but an echo in the mind. A boding of ill we thought it, my father and I, for no tidings had we heard of Boromir since he went away, and no watcher on our borders had seen him pass.'"

2. Meriadoc and Peregrin captured.
(from the appendices)
... "A mile, maybe, from Parth Galen in a little glade not far from the lake he found Boromir. He was 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 hilts; this horn cloven in two was at his side. Many Orcs lay slain, piled all about him and at his feet.
... Aragorn knelt beside him. Boromir opened his eyes and strove to speak. At last slow words came. 'I tried to take the Ring from Frodo,' he said. 'I am sorry. I have paid.' His glance strayed to his fallen enemies; twenty at least lay there. 'They have gone: the Halflings: the Orcs have taken them. I think they are not dead. Orcs bound them.' He paused and his eyes closed wearily."

... "...he and Merry had run off into the woods. What had come over them? Why had they dashed off like that, taking no notice of old Strider? ...suddenly they had crashed right into a group of Orcs: they were standing listening, and they did not appear to see Merry and Pippin until they were almost in their arms. Then they yelled and dozens of other goblins had sprung out of the trees. Merry and he had drawn their swords, but the Orcs did not wish to fight, and had tried only to lay hold of them, even when Merry had cut off several of their arms and hands. Good old Merry!
... Then Boromir had come leaping through the trees. He had made them fight. He slew many of them and the rest fled. But they had not gone far on the way back when they were attacked again, by a hundred Orcs at least, some of them very large, and they shot a rain of arrows: always at Boromir. Boromir had blown his great horn till the woods rang, and at first the orcs had been dismayed and had drawn back; but when no answer but the echoes came, they had attacked more fiercely than ever. Pippin did not remember much more. His last memory was of Boromir leaning against a tree, plucking out an arrow; then darkness fell suddenly."

3. Frodo and Samwise enter the eastern Emyn Muil.
(from the appendices)
... "'Coming, Mr. Frodo! Coming!' called Sam, and flung himself from the bank, clutching at the departing boat. He missed it by a yard. With a cry and a splash he fell face downward into deep swift water. Gurgling the went under, and the River closed over his curly head.
... An exclamation of dismay came from the empty boat. A paddle swirled and the boat put about. Frodo was just in time to grasp Sam by the hair as he came up, bubbling and struggling. Fear was staring in his round brown eyes.
... 'Up you come, Sam my lad!' said Frodo. 'Now take my hand!'
... 'Save me, Mr. Frodo!' gasped Sam. 'I'm drownded. I can't see your hand.'
... 'Here it is. Don't pinch, lad! I won't let you go. Tread water and don't flounder, or you'll upset the boat. There now, get hold of the side, and let me use the paddle.'
... With a few strokes Frodo brought the boat back to the bank, and Sam was able to scramble out, wet as water-rat. Frodo took off the Ring and stepped ashore again.
... 'Of all the confounded nuisances you are the worst, Sam!' he said.
... 'Oh, Mr. Frodo, that's hard!' said Sam shivering. 'That's hard, trying to go without me and all. If I hadn't a guessed right, where would you be now?'
... 'Safely on my way.'
... 'Safely!' said Sam. 'All alone and without me to help you? I couldn't have a borne it, it'd have been the death of me.'
... 'It would be the death of you to come with me, Sam,' said Frodo, 'and I could not have borne that.'
... 'Not as certain as being left behind,' said Sam.
... 'But I am going to Mordor.'
... 'I know that well enough, Mr. Frodo. Of course you are. And I'm coming with you.'
... 'Now, Sam,' said Frodo, 'don’t hinder me! The others will be coming back at any minute. If they catch me here, I shall have to argue and explain, and I shall never have the heart or the chance to get off. But I must go at once. It's the only way.'
... 'Of course it is,' answered Sam. 'But not alone. I'm coming too, or neither of us isn't going. I'll knock holes in all the boats first.'
... Frodo actually laughed. A sudden warmth and gladness touched his heart. 'Leave one!' he said. 'We'll need it.'

... ...So Frodo and Sam set off on the last stage of the Quest together. Frodo paddled away from the shore, and the River bore them swiftly away, down the western arm, and past the frowning cliffs of Tol Brandir. The roar of the great falls drew nearer. Even with such help as Sam could give, it was hard work to pass across the current at the southward end of the island and drive the boat eastward towards the far shore.
... At length they came to land again upon the southern slopes of Amon Lhaw. There they found a shelving shore, and they drew the boat out, high above the water, and hid it as well as they could behind a great boulder. Then shouldering their burdens, they set off, seeking a path that would bring them over the grey hills of the Emyn Muil, and down into the Land of Shadow."

4. Aragorn sets out in pursuit of the Orcs at evening.
(from the appendices)
... "'No other folk make such a trampling,' said Legolas. 'It seems their delight to slash and beat down growing things that are not even in their way.'
... 'But they go with a great speed for all that,' said Aragorn, 'and they do not tire. And later we may have to search for our path in hard bare lands.'
... 'Well, after them!' said Gimli. 'Dwarves too can go swiftly, and they do not tire sooner than Orcs. But it will be a long chase: they have a long start.'
... 'Yes,' said Aragorn, 'we shall all need the endurance of Dwarves. But come! With hope or without hope we will follow the trail of our enemies. And woe to them, if we prove the swifter! We will make such a chase as shall be accounted a marvel among the Three Kindreds: Elves, Dwarves, and Men. Forth the Three Hunters!'
... Like a deer he sprang away. Through the trees he sped. On and on he led them, tireless and swift, now that his mind was at last made up. The woods about the lake they left behind. Long slopes they climbed, dark, hard-edged against the sky already red with sunset. Dusk came. They passed away, grey shadows in a stony land."

5. Éomer hears of the descent of the Orc-band from the Emyn Muil.
(from the appendices)
... "'Indeed in this riding north I went without the king's leave, for in my absence his house is left with little guard. But scouts warned me of the orc-host coming down out of the East Wall... and among them they reported that some bore the white badges of Saruman."

6. Gandalf diverts the Eye from Amon Hen.
(not from the appendices)
... “And suddenly he felt the Eye. There was an eye in the Dark Tower that did not sleep. He knew that it had become aware of his gaze. A fierce eager will was there. It leaped towards him; almost like a finger he felt it, searching for him. Very soon it would nail him down, know just exactly where he was, Amon Lhaw it touched. It glanced upon Tol Brandir—he threw himself from the seat, crouching, covering his head with his grey hood.
... He heard himself crying out: Never, never! Or was it: Verily I come, I come to you? He could not tell. Then as a flash from some other point of power there came to his mind another thought: Take it off! Take it off! Fool, take it off! Take off the Ring!'
... The two powers strove in him. For a moment, perfectly balanced between their piercing points, he writhed, tormented. Suddenly he was aware of himself again. Frodo, neither the Voice nor the Eye: free to choose, and with one remaining instant in which to do so. He took the Ring off his finger. He was kneeling in clear sunlight before the high seat. A black shadow seemed to pass like an arm above him; it missed Amon Hen and groped out west, and faded. Then all the sky was clean and blue and birds sang in every tree.”


sample sample
Trust him... The Hobbit is coming!

"Barney Snow was here." ~Hug like a hobbit!~ "In my heaven..."


TORn's Observations Lists

(This post was edited by grammaboodawg on Feb 26 2007, 10:04am)


dernwyn
Forum Admin / Moderator


Feb 26 2007, 2:16pm

Post #2 of 39 (148 views)
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Their paths chosen for them [In reply to] Can't Post

Whew! By the time one gets finished with this day, so much has happened! And you've picked up all the pieces and put them together so nicely!

Love that comparison - Sam's short Hobbit legs, with those of "Strider the Ranger"! But Sam's mind at work: simple, practical, and purposeful. He does, in a way, "jump down a dragon's throat" for Frodo when he plunges into the water!

"Sam my lad" - we are reminded of the difference in Frodo and Sam's ages.

And we have our first hint that Gandalf is - alive? That is so obviously his voice that Frodo hears - but is he still alive? Or is this just vivid memory on Frodo's part?

The movie uses the "vernacular" "Let's hunt some Orc!" instead of the "formal" "Forth the Three Hunters!", but the emotions and actions are the same: the grief of the day supplanted by the need of a deed yet to do and the hope of accomplishment - and the springing into action.

Their paths have all been chosen for them now by forces beyond their control. For without this sundering the Fellowship could never have succeeded in their Quest. A strange take on "divide and conquer", but necessary!


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Still 'round the corner there may wait
A new road, or a secret gate...


Aerlinn
Lorien


Feb 26 2007, 2:22pm

Post #3 of 39 (176 views)
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*draws hood over face* [In reply to] Can't Post

I had intended to have something new done for today, but that didn't happen. So, a pair of reposts, for Boromir, though I didn't really want to put this up again.

Breaking

He blew upon the Horn until his lungs burned and the woods rang. Other horns
answered, raucous harsh calls, mocking feeble echoes of his. The echoes were
feeble - the enemy, however...


~~~~~


It began when he was very small, perhaps four or five years of age. They had
often and often told the tales and sung the songs when he was a boy - at first
because he asked for them (demanded them, in truth, yet with the winning smile
he knew would work for him) and later because they knew he would ask for them.
The glorious tales of Boromir, son of Denethor - such a thrill it gave a small
boy to hear his very name on a bard's lips.

"... And Boromir rallied his men through their love of him, masking the great
pain of his wounding from them that they might take courage from his courage,
strength from his strength, and hope from his pride..."

This was the man for whom they had named him. His parents clearly had high
expectations. Deeper even than that thrill for the boy was something else known
only to him. He was not prone to daydreams, and not secretive as a rule; on the
contrary, his garrulous and engaging nature were a marked contrast to his shy
and subdued little brother. This, though, he hugged to himself and never
shared.

It could have been one of the soldiers' voices he heard that night. Although he
knew all of the soldiers who served Minas Tirith, and knew them well from being
always underfoot in the barracks and on the training fields. It might have been
one of the men with mischief in his heart who spoke to the boy. He would never
have believed a confession. It was during a recitation of a poem purported to
have been composed by  Boromir I himself for his wife that Boromir the boy
heard a low, warm voice mutter, "If I had written such drivel for my wife, she
would have balled it up and thrown it at my head."

It was so exactly what the boy had been thinking - that the Boromir he
knew would never write such nonsense - that the boy gasped. His eyes widened,
his back straightened - but for some reason he did not turn, though he knew the
speaker was just behind him. He recognized the voice - not as that of a man
he  knew, but as that of the legend he idolized. It had to be.

When he found his tongue, he murmured, "That's what I thought."

And an incredulous joy broke over him when he heard a deep chuckle. A large
hand rested lightly on his hair for the briefest of moments, and then it and
the presence were gone.

~~~~~


Gone. Frodo, gone. The Ring, gone. Even the voice gone, wherever it came
from. Had it ever been real? How far was this Power's reach?


~~~~~


After that first night, the voice was with him often, if irregularly,
throughout his childhood. He never saw so much as a shadow, never felt more
than the lightest and briefest of touches, never saw any sign that anyone else
saw or heard anything. Nor did he ever uncover any sign that anyone he knew was
responsible, despite discreet, innately suspicious investigations. Soon enough
he stopped searching and happily accepted that he was haunted by his greatest
hero. Still, he told no one, not even Faramir, who might have believed him.

It seemed he heard the deep voice oftenest when he held a sword in his hand. It
made sense to him. He was determined to live up to his great name; the other
Boromir seemed willing to help. During training as he strove against other
students or his instructor, he would hear quiet warning of feints, comments on
style. It gave the boy a secret feeling of invincibility which never really
left him.

As a young man he heard the voice less often, and so felt safe in dismissing it
as merely a manifestation of instinct.  By the time he reached manhood, it
was simply a part of him, and he paid it little attention beyond giving heed to
the warnings. Where they came from was no longer something to ponder, for he
was a man at war, and never at the best of times given to imaginative leaps.

When the dreams came in his thirty-seventh year, often to his brother and once
to him, he fought for the right to be the one to quest out to Imladris. The
road will be hard,
he told his father and brother, all but echoing the
voice in his ear. It had grown softer, that voice, as he matured, was so much a
part of him as to be indistinguishable from his very thoughts - if, indeed,
there was any difference to be distinguished. He would have said not. The
way will lead through many perils. And we know not what lies in Imladris.
He loved his brother, but privately he had little confidence that Faramir
would weather such difficulties as were inevitable.

As for himself ... He had never set foot past the borders of Gondor. It had not
been possible, really, with times as dark as they were - certainly not since he
had been made Captain, and certainly not for a journey of this length. The
fording of the Greyflood presented one of the greatest perils of the journey.
It was only the voice - that is, instinct and intuition - that made him leap
clear as his horse was swept away. He never spoke of the travails - merely
stating in Council that he lost his mount in that flooding - but over the next
thousand miles, over the next one hundred fifty days of hard and lonely travel,
he had a great deal of time to think about Faramir. As his boot soles became
thinner and his meals more difficult to come by, he grew more and more certain
that he had been correct. His little brother was very much more suited to
journeys through scrolls and dusty tomes than to thigh-deep mud and near
starvation.

Poor Faramir. Growing up he had often been beset by deep sympathy for his
little brother. Named for - not a valiant Steward, not Faramir. He was called
after a King's son, a Prince of Gondor who had never lived to be King himself.
He must have died courageously, or else their mother would never have chosen
the name for her second son - but a Prince. One of those effete, extinct
creatures without whom Gondor had thrived for centuries. Poor Faramir. They
never told stories about his namesake. Given his penchant for scrolls
and study and solitude, Faramir might be able to ferret out the buried history
of that doomed Prince. No one else would bother. The Kings failed.

~~~~~


Aragorn could bring back the line of Kings.

That was the thought that drummed in his head as he fought. Try to stay between
the Halflings and the Uruks... Boromir I was wounded clearing the Uruks from
Ithilien... Faramir was in Ithilien by now... They were quick with the rocks,
these Hobbits. He had seen several Orcs go down under their onslaught, many not
to rise again. Keep them safe at any cost - it was all he could do now, a tiny
atonement for his numbing failure.


~~~~~


The journey to Imladris might not have been something suited to Faramir's
strengths, but Imladris was. It was a beautiful place with art and books and
music and poetry in every corner.  Faramir would have been in his glory.
Boromir was acutely uncomfortable, and moved with suspicious caution. Entering
the Last Homely House was a novel experience. Never before had he had so much
interaction with the other, elder races - in some ways utterly alien, and in
other ways not strange at all, to his surprise. The former was sharply pointed
up at Elrond's Council. Another new experience: they listened to nothing he
said. He had led a charmed life, and one in which he was well respected. Here,
even when he spoke in righteous defense of Rohan, refuting their dark
suspicions in no uncertain terms - even then they disregarded his words.

And the Wizard... He had never much cared for the Wizard when he came through
Minas Tirith. He knew his father mistrusted Mithrandir and the profound
influence he seemed to have on the younger son. Now here Mithrandir was telling
them of another sorcerer who had gone over to the Enemy. How much faith were
they expected to have in this one?

The conclusion drawn by the Council was confounding. They proposed, in all
seriousness, to destroy what was obviously the best hope for Gondor - and all
the lands of the Free Peoples - had seen since there was need for hope. He
spoke words that formed clearly in his mind - and no one heeded.

From the viewpoint of a Man with the utmost faith in Men, and with at least as
much faith in himself, this was riminal. His faith had been justified
throughout his life: he lived surrounded by Men who fought from their hearts
for their land and their people, saturated to the bone with the songs and tales
of past glories. He himself had never failed at any reasonable thing he had set
himself to accomplish. Even some unreasonable things became reality – very
frequently after he had been told “It cannot be done”. To a Man of battle
steeped in tactics and strategy, it was a completely foolhardy idea that,
having this tremendous weapon, they should in all seriousness hand it over to a
Halfling who would be hard pressed to defend himself against one Orc let alone
armies of them, and send him off directly to the Dark Power seeking this very
weapon. It was madness.

~~~~~


If these two were anything to judge by, perhaps then Frodo might fare better
in the Land of Shadow than he had feared. Assuming they had not already found
him. Assuming he was not already bound and being borne off to Mordor.

There were too many. If no one came to his call he would die here, and the
Hobbits would die moments after. Or worse. But what else was there in all the
world but to fight on? He had failed Frodo. Failed the Company. Failed the
quest. His mind shied away from adding
failed Minas Tirith, failed
Denethor, failed Gondor. And Frodo's errand would fail, and the light would
fail, and the world would end. Soon now, he would fail these two small ones,
who had become dear to him. He had already failed himself.


~~~~~


I know my own heart. I know my true, valiant people. The thought
resounded within him. I cannot believe that what they say is possible, that
we of Gondor would not be able to withstand a touch of absolute power.


No one listened, but contradicted and disregarded. And of necessity he bowed to
the will of the Council as a whole, and agreed to join the forming Fellowship.
It was the voice within him that led to that decision, this

internal reasoning that moved him to step forward, that balanced his sword arm
in protection of the Ring against Gondor's more immediate need of him. And
thus, though he longed to be off home to take up his command, he became a part
of a company, a leader suddenly not in the lead. It was a position not much to
his liking.

It was an uncomfortable realization as they journeyed that he was the only
member of the Fellowship never to offer up a song or story of an evening. The
Halflings enjoyed singing the songs from their Shire on nights when the mood
was lighter; even the Dwarf could be prompted for a song of his folk. The Elf
always graced more solemn occasions, and Aragorn knew all those same songs, it
seemed.

~~~~~


He saw bows being unlimbered now, and had an absurd moment of regret for the
fact that he had never sung with the others, or told them a tale - perhaps a
tale of Boromir I, eleventh ruling Steward of Gondor. He wished he had told the
stories while the voice still rang warm in his mind.

The Uruks had decided he was too dangerous for most to take on blade to blade.
He smiled, grimly, for he felt rather less dangerous now, with his shield left
behind and his horn cloven, and bleeding as he was from a dozen places. And
then he bethought himself again of those stories, and his smile widened, and
his back straightened, that the halflings might take courage from his courage,
and strength from his strength, and hope from his pride.


~~~~~


Men have more strength and pride than they deem, Boromir thought, or heard
within him. After so many years of his uncanny mentor's voice in his mind, it
no longer mattered which. The Ring would not harm me, were I to use it with
the intent of aiding Gondor. It would not harm my City or my people - very much
the reverse, it would make my City and my people safe. Destruction is not the
solution. It cannot be.


The internal reasoning process continued, built doubt upon doubt, until that
day on the skirts of Amon Hen when he suddenly found himself flat on the ground
with Frodo vanished and gone and the voice gone from his mind as though it had
never been. In its place lingered a gaping doubt which grew into horror, into
grief.

All of his own words came back to him, illuminated from this terrible new
angle, and his head bowed under the weight of it. It was true. He was no better
or stronger or safer than the rest of them. He, the true and valiant Captain of
Gondor, was as open to subtle corruption as anyone else. It was a blow that
felt like it should kill him.

Even now I do not understand... Is it the evil whisper of that fell thing
still working on my heart? Still the thought gnaws at me that someone -
Aragorn, Elrond - - Father --
I -- should be given this thing to wield
for the good of us all. It seems such a simple, clean, direct plan, even now. I
have always favored clear and direct action. Faramir was always better at
chess.


~~~~~


There was a faint whisper of warning, and he flailed a black arrow out of the
air - but felt the lancing fire as another drove into his shoulder. He could
hear Merry and Pippin shouting, but could not make out their words, and could
not see them in the instant's glance he spared.

Gone.

Only filth surrounded him, reeking Orcs dead and dying. His handiwork, and the
Halflings', but not enough. Never enough. No, the world would not end. The
light would go out. Creatures like these - he parried the ugly rusted blade of
an Uruk that dared come near, and followed the motion with an awkward thrust
that opened its throat - creatures like these would spread. The world would not
end, but would continue in a living, agonized death.

Another arrow. Nothing now to show where one pain ended and another began, all
merged into one.

That first Faramir - a King's son, not a Steward's son: a mythical being, or
nearly. Much less interesting than that other Boromir son of Denethor. Such a
fierce glow of pride to bear such a name. And yet... and yet there was always
the nagging idea of the kingship. Would there ever come a time when such a myth
could finally be put aside with other childish fancies? The glory of that time
would never come again - nor therefore the agonizing grief of its failure. They
had made their own tales of glory, this line of Stewards, and would always do
so. He, Boromir son of the Lord Steward Denethor, named for Boromir son of the
Lord Steward Denethor, needed no King. And he and his were all that Gondor
needed. The time for dreams was

passed. Hope lay in their own hands.

~~~~~


Hope.

The pain was uniform, and astonishing, and he was no longer certain whether he
still stood or had fallen. It seemed to have grown very dark.

Hope.

He hoped that the Halflings had perished quickly. Theirs were bright spirits,
and the thought of them in torment was a deeper pain even than any wound of his
body. He would have taken their lives himself, swiftly and painlessly, before
he would have allowed it. He would hope a friend would do the same for him.

Hope.

He and Aragorn had begun to approach friendship, or something like it. Given
time, and further battles to fight side by side, they might have become as
close as brothers.

Brothers... No. Far too painful a topic. Easier even to dwell on the downfall
of Gondor and his role in that. But, perhaps...

There was a voice, barely audible above the pounding of his own blood in
his ears. The dark seemed to ease, and he found himself looking at the Man who
... yes, there it was, a deep warm voice spoke the thought that was already in
Boromir's mind: The Man in whom Gondor's main hope now lay. The Heir.
Hearing the voice again, how could he have ever mistaken that other? It
was a moment of shining clarity that almost made him laugh aloud for the simple
truth of it: Aragorn was not merely the Heir. He was the King.

Faramir would be filled with joy. Faramir, named for the son of a King.

Hope.




You Belong to the City -
Based on the song of the same name by Glenn Frey

The dream recurred, you had it too
The meaning was hidden - doubt was something you’d rue
Faramir would go, but the quest is yours
In defiance you decide to rattle a diff’rent door

You leave the City at Summer’s height
A dangerous journey, an uncertain site
To Rivendell, to Imladris
Where wisdom is old and there lies a deep peace
But you aren’t sure where you’re going
Or what you’ll find when you arrive

‘Cause you belong to the City
You belong to Gondor
Livin’ in the shadow of heroes
And blood of Númenor

You were born for the City
Tiers rising seven high
The trumpets sound, ringing clear and pure
In the breeze banners fly

When you said goodbye, duty to be done
Wand’ring roads long forgotten on your own
So much is at stake - Seek the broken sword
Lost your horse so early at Greyflood’s ford
Seek for the Bane of Isildur
Seek the Halfling standing forth

‘Cause you belong to the City
You belong to Gondor
Livin’ in the shadow of heroes
And blood of Númenor

You were born for the City
Tiers rising seven high
The trumpets sound, ringing clear and pure
In the breeze banners fly

You can sense it - you can feel it
Now you’ve seen it, you can hear it
You can hear the Ring, now you’re near the Ring
You need to heed it - how you need it
You belong to the City
You belong to Gondor
You belong to the City
You belong to Gondor
You belong
You belong




TheOneRing.net – where everybody knows your name!
And J.R.R. Tolkien’s middle names… and the name of his publisher’s son … and the name of Aragorn’s great-great-great- grandfather on his mother’s side… and what Frodo’s name almost was…

127.92


grammaboodawg
Immortal


Feb 26 2007, 3:13pm

Post #4 of 39 (174 views)
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Wow, linners! *applause* [In reply to] Can't Post

Oh my... you've captured them so well. These are incredible!

Thanks so much :)


sample sample
Trust him... The Hobbit is coming!

"Barney Snow was here." ~Hug like a hobbit!~ "In my heaven..."


TORn's Observations Lists


grammaboodawg
Immortal


Feb 26 2007, 3:23pm

Post #5 of 39 (149 views)
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I love watching Sam puzzle things out. [In reply to] Can't Post

Here, later when he has to take the Ring, even discussing seeing the log with eyes... it's just wonderful to watch him at work!

This is a full day... when so many tides turn, but things come together.

Here's a drabble I did of Gandalf in Rivendell during Frodo's visit of Amon Hen.


...For what seemed like many hours, his mind wandered and stretched seeking direction. He knew a time of choice had come.
... Stricken suddenly with all-consuming fear, he was aware of the Eye racing across the lands seeking the Ring-bearer.
... "Take it off, you fool!" Gandalf bent his mind with all the fragile strength he'd regained since his rescue as he strove with the Enemy. "Fool, take it off! Take off the Ring!"
...Then with a flash he was startled back to the stillness of the room. He smiled weakly as he perceived the power growing in his friend far away.


sample sample
Trust him... The Hobbit is coming!

"Barney Snow was here." ~Hug like a hobbit!~ "In my heaven..."


TORn's Observations Lists


Annael
Half-elven


Feb 26 2007, 3:41pm

Post #6 of 39 (136 views)
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such a sad day [In reply to] Can't Post

My favorite part of LOTR is Book Two. I'm always heartbroken when the Fellowship is broken, never to be fully remade. And heartbroken again by the "Many Partings" chapter.

Dorothy was a fool she could have stayed in Oz
She traded all that color for black and white
- Judy Collins


NARF and member of Deplorable Cultus since 1967


dernwyn
Forum Admin / Moderator


Feb 26 2007, 5:48pm

Post #7 of 39 (118 views)
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How it must have [In reply to] Can't Post

pained him, to not be able to be there, to have to help Frodo from afar; but how it must have encouraged him, to see Frodo's strengthening will!

That's a very touching drabble, gramma!


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Still 'round the corner there may wait
A new road, or a secret gate...


dernwyn
Forum Admin / Moderator


Feb 26 2007, 6:17pm

Post #8 of 39 (105 views)
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*mods up* [In reply to] Can't Post

Wow - what a life flashing before Boromir's eyes! That's a great look into his psyche, and well worth the repost!

Yes - he did belong to his City...


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Still 'round the corner there may wait
A new road, or a secret gate...


entmaiden
Forum Admin / Moderator


Feb 26 2007, 7:18pm

Post #9 of 39 (143 views)
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A sad day on many levels [In reply to] Can't Post

Boromir's fall is tragic, and the breaking of the Fellowship is very sad, indeed.

Collecting all the events of the day highlights how much is going on. Thanks for pulling it together, gramma!

Each cloak was fastened about the neck with a brooch like a green leaf veined with silver.
`Are these magic cloaks?' asked Pippin, looking at them with wonder.
`I do not know what you mean by that,' answered the leader of the Elves.


NARF since 1974.
Balin Bows


Lossefalme
Gondor

Feb 26 2007, 8:27pm

Post #10 of 39 (97 views)
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So much to absorb. [In reply to] Can't Post

There is just so much happening here. The unravelling of the Fellowship is so difficult to fathom. It tears me apart as a reader. Your post brought me right back into the midst all of that emotional turmoil, Gramma. The physical and emotional toll that this took on the Fellowship must have been indescribable. Heart-wrenching. It is one of my favorite Aragorn moments; the self-doubt, his resoluteness once he maks a decision, his sense of responsibility and his acknowledgement of the value of the bond of friendship. Ah. The perfect, imperfect man.


Ettelewen
Lorien

Feb 27 2007, 12:41am

Post #11 of 39 (80 views)
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Very, very cool. [In reply to] Can't Post

Thanks so much for reposting - I'd missed this the first time 'round.


diedye
Grey Havens


Feb 27 2007, 4:10am

Post #12 of 39 (120 views)
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*stomping feet* No, no, no, no, no!.... [In reply to] Can't Post

You two are NOT allowed to break my heart repeatedly like this!





silneldor
Half-elven


Feb 27 2007, 4:22am

Post #13 of 39 (122 views)
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It seems mystifying when [In reply to] Can't Post

'...all the sky was clean and bright and birds sang in every tree'. They seem so unaffected with presence of Sauron so close. I remember this in the movie and it was such a relief to experience the peace there. That scene offered a glimpse to the extreme opposites of good and evil i feel.


Sam i feel does not have a real force of will unless he he is doing something for someone else in need.


Boromir erred but it did not have a hold on his resolve to resist with everything he could give.

"Tolkien, like Lewis, believed that, through story, the real world would become a more magical place, full of meaning. We see its patterns and colors in a fresh way. The recovery of a true view of the world applies both to individual things, like hills and stones, and to the cosmic - the depths of space and time itself. For in sub-creation, in Tolkien's view, there is a "survey" of space and time. Reality is captured on a miniature scale. Through stories like The Lord of the Rings, a renewed view of things is given, illuminating the homely, the spiritial, the physical, and the moral dimensions of the world."

Tolkien and C.S. Lewis- The Gift of Friendship -Duriez


A little bit of my Middle-earth by canoe.


Lossefalme
Gondor


Feb 27 2007, 4:49am

Post #14 of 39 (94 views)
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Zowie! Awesome! Totally awesome. [In reply to] Can't Post

I'm suitably impressed. Really well done, Linners. Bravo!

(Formerly Lossefalme3, just in case you're wondering...)


grammaboodawg
Immortal


Feb 27 2007, 9:48am

Post #15 of 39 (128 views)
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TIME - February 27 [In reply to] Can't Post

Today in Middle-earth.

February 27, 3019 (S.R. 1419)

1. Aragorn reaches the west-cliff at sunrise.
(from the appendices)
... “’Gondor! Gondor!’ cried Aragorn. ‘Would that I looked on you again in happier hour! Not yet does my road lie southward to your bright stream.

Gondor! Gondor, between the Mountains and the Sea!
West Wind blew there; the light upon the Silver Tree
Fell like bright rain in gardens of the Kings of old.
O proud walls! White towers! O winged crown and throne of gold!
O Gondor, Gondor! Shall Men behold the Silver Tree,
Or West Wind blow again between the Mountains and the Sea?


... Now let us go!’ he said, drawing his eyes away from the South, and looking out west and north to the way that he must tread.
... The ridge upon which the companions stood went down steeply before their feet. Below it twenty fathoms or more, there was a wide and rugged shelf which ended suddenly in the brink of a sheer cliff: the East Wall of Rohan. So ended the Emyn Muil, and the green plains of the Rohirrim stretched away before them to the edge of sight.
... ‘Look!’ cried Legolas, pointing up into the pale sky above them. ‘There is the eagle again! He is very high. He seems to be flying now away, from this land back to the North. He is going with great speed. Look!’
... ‘No, not even my eyes can see him, my good Legolas,’ said Aragorn. ‘He must be far aloft indeed. I wonder what is his errand, if he is the same bird that I have seen before. But look! I can see something nearer at hand and more urgent; there is something moving over the plain!’
... ‘Many things,’ said Legolas. ‘It is a great company on foot; but I cannot say more, nor see what kind of folk they may be. They are many leagues away: twelve, I guess; but the flatness of the plain is hard to measure.’
... ‘I think, nonetheless, that we no longer need any trail to tell us which way to go,’ said Gimli. ‘Let us find a path down to the fields as quick as may be.’
... ‘I doubt if you will find a path quicker than the one that the Orcs chose,’ said Aragorn.”

2. Éomer against Théoden's orders sets out from Eastfold about midnight to pursue the Orcs.
(from the appendices)
... 'So suspecting what I most feared, a league between Orthanc and the Dark Tower, I led forth my eored, men of my own household'"

3. Merry and Pippin endure their captivity.
(not from the appendices)
... “Then the whole company began to run with the long loping strides of Orcs. They kept no order, thrusting, jostling, and cursing; yet their speed was very great. Each hobbit had a guard of three. Pippin was far back in the line. He wondered how long he would be able to go on at this pace…
... Every now and again there came into his mind unbidden a vision of the keen face of Strider bending over a dark trail, and running, running behind. But what could even a Ranger see except a confused trail of orc-feet? His own little prints and Merry’s were overwhelmed by the trampling of the iron-sod shoes before them and behind them and about them.
... They had gone only a mile or so from the cliff when the land sloped down into a wide shallow depression, where the ground was soft and wet. Mist lay there, pale-glimmering in the last rays of the sickle moon. The dark shapes of the Orcs in front grew dim, and then were swallowed up.
... ‘Ai! Steady now!’ shouted Uglúk from the rear.
... A sudden thought leaped into Pippin’s mind, and he acted on it at once. He swerved aside to the right, and dived out of the reach of his clutching guard, headfirst into the mist; he landed sprawling on the grass.
... ‘Halt!’ yelled Uglúk.
... There was for a moment turmoil and confusion. Pippin sprang up and ran. But the Orcs were after him. Some suddenly loomed up right in front of him.

... ‘No hope of escape!’ thought Pippin. ‘But there is a hope that I have left some of my own marks unspoilt on the wet ground.’ He groped with his two tied hands at his throat, and unclasped the brooch of his cloak. Just as long arms and hard claws seized him, he let it fall. ‘There I suppose it will lie until the end of time,’ he thought. ‘I don’t know why I did it. If the others have escaped, they’ve probably all gone with Frodo.'"


sample sample
Trust him... The Hobbit is coming!

"Barney Snow was here." ~Hug like a hobbit!~ "In my heaven..."


TORn's Observations Lists

(This post was edited by grammaboodawg on Feb 27 2007, 9:49am)


grammaboodawg
Immortal


Feb 27 2007, 9:57am

Post #16 of 39 (86 views)
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So many of our heroes [In reply to] Can't Post

came to a time of instant decisions. Frodo, Boromir, Aragorn, Sam... They all seemed to be vital to winning the war; but at the time, it seemed like nothing was going right.

Oh yeah... that areas was so beautiful. I've always thought it's what the Brown Lands used to be.


sample sample
Trust him... The Hobbit is coming!

"Barney Snow was here." ~Hug like a hobbit!~ "In my heaven..."


TORn's Observations Lists


grammaboodawg
Immortal


Feb 27 2007, 10:03am

Post #17 of 39 (82 views)
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When I first read this section [In reply to] Can't Post

I remember being overwhelmed at how much was coming at them and how dire their decisions were. Aragorn and Frodo were forced into decisions that probably never fathomed would fall out the way they did. Frodo was planning on leaving, but never imagined Boromir would actually attack him, that he would find himself confronted with the Eye, and leaving to escape rather than journey on.

Aragorn... all his alarms were going off telling him it was his time to return to Gondor; but he's faced with so many devastating episodes and needs...he really made incredible choices in the end.

And Sam... this is where he switches gears and does everything just right! Thank Goodness he puzzled it out so fast and so well.


sample sample
Trust him... The Hobbit is coming!

"Barney Snow was here." ~Hug like a hobbit!~ "In my heaven..."


TORn's Observations Lists


Elven
Valinor


Feb 27 2007, 10:12am

Post #18 of 39 (75 views)
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WOW gramma and Linners!!! [In reply to] Can't Post

Thankyou!! What an inspiring read!!!

I loved the way Sam can always think on his feet in a time of crisis!

I couldnt image the shock of hearing the Horn of Boromir sounding through the woods that day for Aragorn - his thoughts for a moment must have reeled, his fears realized.

... and I cant watch the movie bit either where Sam (Sean) runs into the water and then knowing he trod on that shard of glass Tongue I have to close my eyes at that part - I seriously feel a pain in my foot!

I like the way Peter interpreted Sam going to the boat, and the re-wording for that scene - Im glad Sam wasnt thought of as being a younger 'lad' - but a true companion.

Heart

"Never wash your name in hot water Elvenesque - it shrinks!" said the Gaffer. "lucky it still fits if you be askin' me."


silneldor
Half-elven


Feb 27 2007, 11:07am

Post #19 of 39 (75 views)
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Aerlinn, you've done it again! [In reply to] Can't Post

Thank you for this. It was a joy to readSmile.

"Tolkien, like Lewis, believed that, through story, the real world would become a more magical place, full of meaning. We see its patterns and colors in a fresh way. The recovery of a true view of the world applies both to individual things, like hills and stones, and to the cosmic - the depths of space and time itself. For in sub-creation, in Tolkien's view, there is a "survey" of space and time. Reality is captured on a miniature scale. Through stories like The Lord of the Rings, a renewed view of things is given, illuminating the homely, the spiritial, the physical, and the moral dimensions of the world."

Tolkien and C.S. Lewis- The Gift of Friendship -Duriez


A little bit of my Middle-earth by canoe.


silneldor
Half-elven


Feb 27 2007, 11:37am

Post #20 of 39 (107 views)
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Of all who would feel self-doubt, [In reply to] Can't Post

from all that had happened in these last hours, Aragorn shows again his resiliancy and resolve in the poetic love of his land.

"Tolkien, like Lewis, believed that, through story, the real world would become a more magical place, full of meaning. We see its patterns and colors in a fresh way. The recovery of a true view of the world applies both to individual things, like hills and stones, and to the cosmic - the depths of space and time itself. For in sub-creation, in Tolkien's view, there is a "survey" of space and time. Reality is captured on a miniature scale. Through stories like The Lord of the Rings, a renewed view of things is given, illuminating the homely, the spiritial, the physical, and the moral dimensions of the world."

Tolkien and C.S. Lewis- The Gift of Friendship -Duriez


A little bit of my Middle-earth by canoe.


dernwyn
Forum Admin / Moderator


Feb 27 2007, 2:36pm

Post #21 of 39 (88 views)
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Who knows what the source [In reply to] Can't Post

of Pippin's "unbidden vision" could be? Or what gave him the impetus to drop the brooch?

My own feeling is that Gandalf, sensing Frodo's departure, is now turning his mind to the rest of the Fellowship - and as Eagle eyes discern two small figures among the hulks of the Orcs and report them, his mind bends thither (great word!), with images and suggestions. "Not idly do the leaves of Lórien fall" - getting ahead a bit, here, but when Aragorn comes across the brooch, he knows that there was more to it, than simply Pippin trying to leave a trace!


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Still 'round the corner there may wait
A new road, or a secret gate...


White Gull
Lorien


Feb 27 2007, 2:57pm

Post #22 of 39 (63 views)
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Wow [In reply to] Can't Post

Those are wonderful, Aerlinn! Thanks for posting them.

WG


Lossefalme
Gondor


Feb 27 2007, 3:40pm

Post #23 of 39 (80 views)
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What an incredible mind. [In reply to] Can't Post

Tolkien constantly amazes me. I read these passages and they are so real. I can't imagine having a mind that could create the characters and stories that are on these pages. The emotions they evoke in me are so visceral. Remarkable writing. Remarkable.

(Formerly Lossefalme3, just in case you're *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Aragorn threw back his cloak. The elven-sheath glittered as he grasped it, and the bright blade of Andúril shone like a sudden flame as he swept it out. 'Elendil!' he cried. 'I am Aragorn son of Arathorn, and am called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dúnadan, the heir of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor. Here is the Sword that was Broken and is forged again! Will you aid me or thwart me? Choose swiftly!' TTT, Book III, Chapter 2
And Éomer answered: 'Since the day when you rose before me out of the green grass of the downs I have loved you, and that love shall not fail.' RotK, Book VI, Chapter 5


Lossefalme
Gondor


Feb 27 2007, 4:46pm

Post #24 of 39 (51 views)
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Interesting! [In reply to] Can't Post

I generally kind of forget about Gandalf here, but you make a very interesting point. Cool! Now I have another new aspect to consider when I read it again. Thanks!

(Formerly Lossefalme3, just in case you're wondering)*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Aragorn threw back his cloak. The elven-sheath glittered as he grasped it, and the bright blade of Andúril shone like a sudden flame as he swept it out. 'Elendil!' he cried. 'I am Aragorn son of Arathorn, and am called Elessar, the Elfstone, Dúnadan, the heir of Isildur Elendil's son of Gondor. Here is the Sword that was Broken and is forged again! Will you aid me or thwart me? Choose swiftly!' TTT, Book III, Chapter 2
And Éomer answered: 'Since the day when you rose before me out of the green grass of the downs I have loved you, and that love shall not fail.' RotK, Book VI, Chapter 5


grammaboodawg
Immortal


Feb 27 2007, 5:06pm

Post #25 of 39 (60 views)
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There! You've nailed it! [In reply to] Can't Post

Tolkien affects me the same way! I'm enchanted by how he weaves his words. Oh what a mind, and heart, and spirit! *goosebumps*


sample sample
Trust him... The Hobbit is coming!

"Barney Snow was here." ~Hug like a hobbit!~ "In my heaven..."


TORn's Observations Lists

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