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Avon's Drabbles  by Avon

AN: Actually a double drabble. The first three lines are, of course, by Tolkien.

“He cannot stand alone!” cried Aragorn suddenly and ran back along the bridge. 

 

Elendil!” he shouted.  “I am with you, Gandalf!''

 

“Gondor!' cried Boromir and leaped after him.

 

I followed him in the darkness of Moria without thought and without reservation.  My sword followed where his led, and, when all hope was lost, I fled from that evil place at his word.  Strange it seemed even as I ran that I – I the leader; I the commander; I proud, bold Boromir, prince of Gondor – should ever follow this rough ranger who claims to be the heir of my lands.  Strange it seemed indeed, yet still did I follow him.

Now we walk in the brightness of noonday sunshine, and again do I follow him.  One of the small ones, Sam, clasps his arms round my neck and I carry him, just as I once carried my stubborn little brother while ahead of me trudges the ranger, similarly burdened.  I watch his tall figure as though he was an elder brother, loved and long obeyed.  Heir of Elendil, with what elvish magic do you bind me? I ask, but feel no fear.  Instead, I feel the love of brother long missed.

 





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