Boromir cursed himself inwardly.
He'd been persuaded by the evil power of the One Ring, had fallen to its trap. If it hadn't been for Frodo and the small one's protection of it, he would now be wearing the ring, controlled by the blood-lust and anger and promises of power he had felt when he was under its influence.
Now the hobbit was missing, the fellowship searching for him, and an army of Saruman pursuing them.
He could now hear the grunts and growls of the Uruk-hai. Boromir glanced for a moment for the little ones, Merry, Pippin, Sam...he knew Aragorn and Legolas could take care of themselves, and he prayed for the souls of any that might cross Gimli when the dwarf was angry, but the hobbits stood little chance against a single Uruk, let alone an army.
He ran in the direction he thought he'd seen them go, and was soon overtaken by the dark forces of the wizard.
An Uruk reached out its roughly crafted weapon toward him, which Boromir deflected with his own sword and brought his blade in a deadly arc ending in the Uruk's heart.
He heard the cries of Merry, soon joined by Pippin. They were taunting the Uruk-hai, screaming insults that no doubt meant nothing to the giants, but the charging army turned to them anyway.
Boromir saw two Uruk's reach outstretched arms towards the little ones-who were now clumsily raising their weapons up to defend themselves - and he crashed into them with enough force to throw his enemies to the ground.
He landed on the back of one orc, reached out his right hand with his sword in it and gutted the second black monster. He leaned down and swiftly lopped off the head of the beast beneath him, then pushed the two hobbits back from the surging enemy forces.
Boromir looked at the two mangled bodies of the creatures he had most recently killed and spat on the nearest of them. It made angered him to see the bane of the tainted "White Wizard" cross into the pure land of Gondor.
An orc appeared and took a stab at him, which Boromir deftly blocked and swung around his blade which came to rest halfway through the foul creature's body.
He brought the Horn of Gondor to his lips and let out a large breath, registering the loud baritone noise ringing through the trees.
Surely Aragorn will understand. He thought to himself.
Another Uruk jumped at him, sharpened shield outstretched, but the Gondorian captain brought his sword up in time to deflect the weapon and thrust his blade into the creature's neck.
He swung his foot out and brought a third orc to the ground, spinning his sword to end the monster with a swift death it did not deserve.
Merry and Pippin began to throw rocks at the incoming beasts, bringing several down. Boromir looked at them and then quickly threw his gaze back to the battle at hand. He stabbed again, killing yet another Uruk, and swung his sword up in a block that was nearly too late to save him. He dropped the sword low and stabbed into the midsection of the thing and turned again to the oncoming threat.
He was so focused on trying to protect the hobbits that he didn't register the arrow until it was buried from tip to the end of its metal head in his shoulder.
Boromir staggered back a step and fell to his knees, pain burning through him like a fire through the dead forest.
The soldier pushed past his pain and stood, slicing his metal weapon across the necks of two adversaries, then turned and impaled a third.
Slowly, the great warrior turned back to the enemies, and a second arrow landed in his gut.
Again, he fell to his knees. He was having trouble finding breath, having trouble seeing past the haze of pain. Merry and Pippin were looking at him, a mixture of respect, wonder, and fear in their eyes. Boromir gasped for air, the haze thickening quickly...
He surged to his feet with a fearsome cry, threw two Uruk's on the ground and ran them through simultaneously. He spun to his right and parried a blow from another foe, then brought his sword above his head and sliced it down through the creature.
A final arrow struck.
Boromir fell. He tried desperately to find any strength left in himself, anything to defend the hobbits longer. Tried and failed.
All he felt was pain. He barely noticed as his two allies and friends were lifted and carried away, but he couldn't find the strength to save them even then. He wanted more than anything to protect them, but could not. He couldn't even stand as the herd of Uruk-hai and Orcs thundered past him.
He could barely even lift his head to see his death. He prepared himself. To die a warrior's death was a good way to die, if any. Then Aragorn came. Aragorn defeated the Uruk that had bested Boromir. He came to Boromir in his final moments.
"I would have followed you my brother...my captain...my king."
Boromir, son of Denethor, will not be missed. He goes now to the marble halls of his predecessors. To the halls of great kings before him. Joining the many valiant defenders of Gondor.
Author's note: I am also a great fan of LOTR(I mean, who isn't?) but I didn't even think to try my hand at it until reading the great work of Laiquendi(if you haven't read the work of this great author, go do it as soon as you can!) So, here is Boromir's death, or at least my warped version. Hope you enjoyed it!