He heard someone else, out there, breathing. "If you're here to kill me, you're a little late." He tried to call out, choking on his own blood, into the dark. A familiar female voice chuckled.
"You're not done yet. You haven't accomplished what you set out to do. Why did you decide to do it in the first place?"
"Ungoliant. She took my family."
"No, no she didn't. You're fooling yourself. Remember what happened. Think. And then act."
Something cold was placed into his hand. It wasn't as large as Moréna, but it wasn't a dagger, either. It was sharp. Boros noticed that his bleeding began to slow, and soon he felt well enough to stand up.
It had been a long time since they had left the walls of their village. But today was the day. They were going out, even for a minute, on a picnic.
She looked sad.
Boros nudged her. "Is everything alright?"
She nodded hastily. "I'm just worried. There's been so many raids these days. Are you sure we're safe?"
He laughed. "After all the ones I've killed with my sword? Yes, I'd say we're safe, at least for the moment. The children need to get out. Besides, you've got me!"
A strained smile was the only reply he received.
They stopped in a clearing, not too far away from the walls. They heard hissing from two of them, as they vaulted out of the trees. He got her and one of the children behind him, but the other one ran away, in a panic.
He was knocked over and bit.
Boros charged, dragging wife and child with him. The other child was also bitten, and soon Boros was bitten as well. As he lay there, he began to black out. His wife was standing over him, crying.
That memory wasn't right. Boros could feel it. He concentrated harder.
The kids were crying. She wasn't. And, while he couldn't see anything, Boros realized that he had deliberately not heard her when she asked the spiders. "So, you'll leave the village alone then? This is all you want?"
Someone was in the room with him. In the ever-present darkness he heard a strangely repulsive feminine voice crying and sniffling "The whips the whips the whips their whips..." The feeling, the atmosphere, of the room became something that he could barely stand. It wasn't that woman who kept showing up, whoever she was. This was someone different.
"Ungoliant?"
"The whips the whips the whips the whips... Boros... together again."
"Why? Why do this to me?"
There was a laughter, stifled by a cry of pain. "Why? The whips! What a stupid question! Ack! Why did you marry her? Why did you have children? Why do anything at all?????"
Boros gripped the hilt of the blade. He couldn't see, but he had to try.
All of a sudden he could feel that someone else was in the room. "Hold up, Boros" said a strong, masculine voice. "We have finally come."
This was followed up by the flummoxed scramblings of someone much smaller, but louder. "Oy! What's going on?? Where's Frodo??"
Boros shouted "I'm with him! What the hell's going on."
"Yes, where's Frodo? We were on the stair, and I was looking at the star. Why am I... wherever this is??"
"There's not much time to explain. The light that's keeping Boros alive is going to fade soon", said the other man, who fished the crystal out of Boros' pocket. "She's afraid of this. And we can kill her with it. Up, Samwise, with your phial, and me, with this uncut crystal's refined sister! We have to get her ready for Boros to finish her off! Quickly now!"
"Whoa, wait a minute! Why wouldn't I use this sword? It's not like dying is going to get me closer to my family, they're alive!"
"Do you really think she told you the truth? I promise, Mandos and they both await you, all in his halls."
There was a pause.
Boros dropped the sword, grabbed the crystal, and held it aloft. She began to scream, a wretched sound not unlike a dog growling and a cat screeching. The next few minutes seemed like an eternity. But all of a sudden he could feel that the two next to him, one tall and the other no larger than a child, were gone.
"Give meeee.... Give meee that crystal..."
"No"
His hand had gone down a little bit, and all of a sudden he could feel her, physically present, in the room, with him. Her bulk and stench were overwhelming. He held the crystal back up and she screeched! And then... there was the sound of crunching stone, following by a screaming that made the previous sound like soft music in comparison. She kept begging him, between mouthfuls, to stop. But Boros kept his hand up, and began to advance, slowly, achingly. A whoosh over his head and a crash presaged the boulder that fell atop him. Still, Boros, held onto the crystal, the sounds of screaming and grinding stone fading.
He saw a pair of gates ahead of him; he heard laughter, soft and pure, a fountain in auditory form. Boros headed toward it.
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