Camille paddled in quiet, as she looked ahead, the River Anduin stretching out before her. She and Eli decided to hang out towards the back of the Fellowship as they made their way down the river, heading towards the Argonath and Amon Hen, where Aragorn said they would stop and decide their next course of action.
The moment the sun rose that day, Aragorn woke them up from their sleep, and said that they now had to find a way to get down the rest of the Anduin. He suggested taking a certain footpath that led through the underbrush to come out at a small port at the end of the rapids of Sarn Gebir. Of course, the hardest part would be carrying the boats and the packs down the road to the port.
When the work of carrying the boats was divided, Camille realized that she and Eli weren't required to bring anything except for the lightest of the packs. Most of the burden that was supposed to be theirs was placed on Aragorn and Boromir. After a bit of coaxing and much prodding and arguing, Camille and Eli finally got the right to carry their own boat and packs. Since they had done it once before, while on that infamous trip to Colorado, they didn't complain at all when the road started to get rougher and rockier. But still, they were much relieved when they finally put to the water again.
She frowned at the fog that surrounded them. This fog is too thick. I can barely see past Eli's head. But slowly, the mist cleared, and as they continued to paddle, they found themselves approaching two massive pillars of rock. As they drifted closer, Camille realized that they were carved in the likeness of kings, with palms outstretched in warning to all those who journeyed down the river.
In front of her, she heard Eli gasp in awe. Only one word came from her lips: "Wow."
"Wow is right," Camille murmured as she raised her head to look at the faces of the statues. They were stern and frowning, looking towards the north with furrowed brows.
In front of them, Aragorn cried, "Behold the Argonath, the Pillars of Kings! We shall pass through them soon. Keep the boats in line, and as far apart as you can! Hold the middle of the stream!"
Even as he spoke they passed through a chasm, and all around her echoed the sounds of rushing water and screaming wind. Camille winced at the high-pitched whistling sound the wind made. She glanced at Legolas, and noticed the look of irritation and resignation mingled on his handsome features. She understood him. After all, if the wind is irritating to me, then all the more so to him.
The passageway was long, but they were able to move through it quickly enough. The current spit them out of the chasm, and into a long oval lake that Aragorn called the Nen Hithoel. "We are coming to Amon Hen and Amon Lhaw," he told them. "We may drift a while and let the current take us, but we must soon hasten on our way and make for the right arm of the river."
The Fellowship allowed themselves to pull out their paddles and stopped long enough to eat, but they soon got on their way. Aragorn led them towards the western side of the lake, and they landed on a vast green lawn that stretched all the way to the foot of Amon Hen. "Here we shall rest for the meantime," he said. "This is the lawn of Parth Galen: a fair place in the summer days of old. Let us hope that no evil has yet come here."
As soon as they had landed, Camille leaped out of the boat, and stretched her stiff muscles, bending backwards slightly to relieve tension. "Alleluia! My rear's starting to get sore from sitting in that boat for close to twenty-four hours, and my shoulders ache like hell from the paddling."
She was glad that no one paid attention to her complaining. She didn't want to make it sound like she couldn't handle the pressures of the journey. But, like always, Legolas had heard her, and he walked up to her then, leading her to where the rest of the Fellowship was seated. Seating her down on the grass, he sat on a low rock just behind her, and with his long fingers began to slowly ease out the kinks and knots in her shoulders.
Camille let out a long, soft sigh, and slowly relaxed beneath the Elf's touch. She smiled, but didn't look up at him. "Thanks." In response, he increased the pressure slightly, acknowledging her words.
The Fellowship was silent for a long while, but Aragorn soon broke it. "The day has come at last," he said: "the day of choice which we have long delayed. What shall now become of our Company that has traveled so far in Fellowship? Shall we turn west with Boromir and go to the wars of Gondor; or turn east to the Fear and Shadow; or shall we break our fellowship and go this way and that as each may choose? Whatever we may do must be done soon. We cannot long halt here. The enemy is on the eastern shore, we know; but I fear that the Orcs may already be on this side of the water."
There was a long silence, but then, Eli said, "Look you guys, it really isn't our place to decide what to do. Although I hate to say this, it's really up to Frodo." She turned to the Hobbit, who was seated with Aragorn on one side and Sam on the other. "I really don't like putting so much pressure on you since you've already got the Ring to deal with, but you have to make your own decision." She sighed. "This is really one of those times when I wish Gandalf were here."
"But he isn't, is he?" Camille sighed. She looked up at Frodo then, smiling at him in an attempt to comfort him. "Listen Frodo, it doesn't really matter what you choose to do; Eli and I will stick with your decision." She lifted her hands slowly upwards, and stared at her palms. "My powers are getting stronger as each day passes, and so are Eli's. Whether we go to Gondor, or Mordor, or choose our own paths, by the time we reach our destination we might be strong enough to call upon the Spirits themselves like what Eli tried in Moria, and with their help we might be able to hold Sauron back until you can destroy the Ring." She shook her head. "But don't let me make decisions for you, Frodo. Do what you want to do. If there is one important thing I learned while in Lothlorien, it is to follow one's heart. Follow what your heart tells you, Frodo, and I'm certain it won't steer you wrong."
Frodo was silent for a long while. At last, he spoke, "I know that haste is needed, yet I cannot choose. The burden is heavy. Give me an hour longer, and I will speak. Let me be alone!"
Aragorn looked at him with kindly pity. "Very well, Frodo son of Drogo," he said. "You shall have an hour, and you shall be alone. We will stay here for a while. But do not stray far or out of call."
For a while, Frodo simply sat there, but after a moment, he got up, and started walking away. Camille noticed the restraint the others exhibited, and noted almost immediately that the eyes of Boromir seemed to follow Frodo intently, until he passed out of sight in the trees at the foot of Amon Hen.
* * *
Eli looked out towards the lake in irritation, her impatience growing with each minute that passed. What the hell is taking Frodo so long to make up his mind?! Time was short, and they couldn't waste it sitting around here. She looked at the others, and noticed that they were talking about lots of things: Gondor's history and what could be found in it; their adventures; the loss of Gandalf; the Shire, and sometimes about their world. But time and time again, the topic of the conversation gravitated towards the Ring, and what Frodo was planning to do.
"He is debating which course is the most desperate, I think," Aragorn said. "And well he may. It is now more hopeless than ever for the Company to go east, since we are being tracked by Gollum, and must fear that the secret of our journey is already betrayed. But Minas Tirith is no nearer to the Fire and the destruction of the Burden.
"We may remain there for a while and make a brave stand; but the Lord Denethor and all his men cannot hope to do what even Elrond said was beyond his power: either to keep the Burden secret, or to hold off the full might of the Enemy when he comes to take it. Which way would any of us choose in Frodo's place? Now indeed we miss Gandalf the most."
"If I were in Frodo's shoes – or feet, since he doesn't wear any – I'd probably just take the Ring on my own to Mordor and let the others do what they want," Camille said quietly. "And besides, a smaller group or one person will be less detectable than an entire group of ten. That way, Minas Tirith will get the help it needs while the Ring will be destroyed at the same time."
"That is a good ploy, but remember, the Dark Lord is mightier than you presume him to be," Gimli muttered. "A smaller group may be harder to find, but will also make the members more vulnerable to attacks if they are indeed found."
"And I will not stand for it!" cried Merry. "We can't leave Frodo! Pippin and I always intended to go wherever he went, and we still do! But we did not realize what that would mean. It seemed different so far away, in the Shire or in Rivendell. It would be mad and cruel to let Frodo go alone to Mordor. Why can't we stop him?"
"Begging your pardon," said Sam. "I don't think you understand my master at all. He isn't hesitating about which way to go. Of course not! What's the good of Minas Tirith anyway? To him, I mean, begging your pardon, Master Boromir," he added, and turned.
Eli's eyes widened. Boromir was gone. What the- Knowing that something had just gone terribly wrong, she leaped up, and yelled, "Damn it, he's gone off! I bet he's going to try to take the Ring from Frodo!"
"Why would you say that?!" Pippin squeaked.
"I felt it in him the day I saw him at the Council." Here, Eli's eyes narrowed. "I didn't like the feel of his aura then, and I still don't, but I just had to put up with it since he was a member of the Fellowship and because I gradually began to accept him as a good friend. But the evil of the Ring has slowly been eating away at him, and I think that now it has finally consumed him."
Suddenly a shriek rose from the woods, and everyone shuddered. "Orcs!" Camille cried.
The Hobbits flew into a panic. Heedless of Aragorn's warnings, they flew off into the forest, crying out Frodo's name as they did so. Eli glanced at Camille, and the latter nodded at her. She drew out her sword, and shouted back to Aragorn as she and Camille ran off, "You guys can look for Frodo and take care of the Hobbits! Leave Boromir to us!"
The two of them ignored the calls of Aragorn and Legolas, and continued on their way, following the sounds the Orcs made as they crashed through the brush. Camille had already nocked an arrow in her bow, the gold gleaming in the sun, the rubies casting blood-red shafts of light. In Eli's hand glinted four kunai, ready to be thrown and the slightest moment.
They came upon the Orcs soon enough, less than five hundred meters away from the lake. The moment they saw them Camille's arrows and Eli's kunai were winging their way through the air, killing more than a dozen Orcs before they could even be engaged in hand-to-hand combat. But when they got too close, the swords were put to use. Between the two of them, they managed to take out three-fourths of the troop they had come upon. The rest ran off shrieking.
Eli grinned at Camille. Our first time to fight without the others, and it's a success. The two of them proceeded to pick up their daggers and arrows, respectively.
Suddenly, a great horn blew, just several more meters away from their current position. Eli jerked up, ears listening for it. What was that?
Knowing that there was no time to think, Eli sprang towards the source of the sound, and came upon a clearing. She cleared out the remaining Orcs with her kunai, and looked towards a tall figure leaning against a tree. And she gasped.
The tall figure was Boromir, but there were four black-fletched arrows sticking out of his body. Eli rushed to him. "Boromir! What the hell-"
The Gondorian let out a wheezing cough, then said, "No…time… The Orcs…they got the little ones… Merry…Pippin…"
Eli's normally calm mind was now filled with panic. "Where? Where did they take them?"
Boromir lifted a trembling hand, pointing towards an uncertain direction, towards the trees. He looked up at her, his eyes pleading. "Follow…them…save them…"
Eli gulped, attempting to hold back the tears. "I can't just LEAVE you here!"
Boromir shook his head, grasping her hand tightly in his. "No…time… Go! Go!"
Hesitantly, Eli stood up, and squeezed his hand one last time. "Don't worry, I promise to bring them back. Alive." With that, she ran off through the bush, hot on the trail of the Orcs that made off with Merry and Pippin. She closed her eyes to stave her tears, knowing in her heart that it would be the last time she would see Boromir alive again.
* * *
Camille was shocked beyond reckoning when Eli suddenly leaped off towards the source of the loud sound. "Eli! Eli, wait!" She cursed. Damn it! That girl doesn't know what she's getting herself into!!!
From behind her, Aragorn burst through the bushes, Anduril glimmering in his hand. He signaled to her as he ran. "We must hurry! The horn of Boromir has sounded! He is in need!"
Realizing that the direction Aragorn was heading was the same one that Eli had gone to, Camille lost all her hesitations and followed him. They ran until they arrived at a small glade, which had previously been a scene of a fierce battle. Camille looked around, and noticed that some of Eli's kunai were lying scattered around, all of them buried in the bodies of Orcs. But where is she?
She looked towards a figure that was lying against a tree, and she gasped, tears coming unbidden to her eyes. "Boromir…" Her bow dropped from her hand as she ran towards the fallen Gondorian. The tears fell, leaving tracks over her soiled face. She dug her fingers through his gloves, pressing them against his wrist. There was a pulse, but it was fluttering and weak. She shook her head. "Boromir, hang in there, please…"
His eyes opened the moment he heard her voice, and the ghost of the smile he used to flash in her direction appeared on his face. "Camille…I was…wondering if I…would see you… Eli, she…she went after…Merry…and Pippin…"
Camille shook her head. "Keep quiet Boromir, save your strength. I'm going to try to heal you-"
"No…do not. It is…too…late for me…" Boromir swallowed, and then said, "I have…feared to speak this…but now I shall. Long…have I watched…you………but you…never knew…that I loved…you. My…love shall be…unrequited…but I die…knowing that…someone will…love you in…my…stead, and…who is…worthy of…your love. That…is enough…for me." He lifted her hand to his lips, and pressed a fervent kiss to the back of her hand. "Farewell…dear love!"
Camille felt her heart crumple up inside her chest until it was the size of a pebble. The tears were now a raging waterfall that coursed down her cheeks, which were currently alternating between white and red. She stood up, staggering backwards, Boromir's words ringing clearly in her mind. He loved me?!?! All this time, all of our journeying together as friends, and never once…never once he gave a sign! All at once the times she had spent with Boromir came back to her, how she chatting with him during long treks or during camp, the mirth twinkling in his gray eyes, his light laughter ringing out at whatever they were talking about. And the more she remembered, the more she realized that he HAD given signs. Only now did she see the veiled look of longing in his eyes whenever they spoke to each other, the gentle touches on her shoulder whenever she was tired, his quiet reassurances whenever her spirits dropped down low…
She felt her back collide with something warm and solid, and two strong arms rise up around her waist. She let out a loud wail, and turned around, burying her face into Legolas' chest. She couldn't say anything, only a single two-letter word: "No, no, no, no, no…"
Legolas held her close, attempting to soothe her. "Hush, my love… Please, tell me what ails you? What causes you to tremble so?"
Camille folded her arms up against her body, as if trying to fit herself in her entirety into the circle of Legolas' embrace. "Legolas…Boromir…he… And all this time, I never knew…"
One hand loosened its grip around her waist, trailing up to her face and wiping away her tears. "Calm down love, please stop weeping. Tell me what is the matter."
Camille paused for a while to draw her breath, and quietly, so that only Legolas could hear, she said, "Legolas, he loved me. Before he died, Boromir told me. He loved me."
* * *
"Before he died, he told me. He loved me."
Those words made Legolas' heart suddenly twinge with a sharp ache. And it was due to a mixture of emotions. Boromir, a good comrade and friend…he loved Camille? And now he is dead… The emotions that accompanied this revelation were many. Jealousy, from knowing that he had a rival; relief, from knowing that his rival was already gone; and pain, from knowing that his friend was now dead.
He held Camille close to him, rubbing a hand along her back to ease away the pain of both her body and her soul. He planted a kiss on the top of her head. "Hush, my love, hush. We have but a short time to grieve for this loss."
Soon, Camille's weeping ceased, and she drew away from him, her face tear-stained and her eyes dull and listless. He gently brushed the loose strands of hair that clung to her face, and laid a kiss on her forehead. "Come now, we must give him a proper burial."
Camille only nodded as she followed him to the spot where Boromir lay. Aragorn had taken the time to remove the arrows, and the body of their comrade was now lying on the ground.
Legolas spoke then. "We cannot leave him here, lying amongst these foul Orcs like carrion."
"But we must be swift," Gimli muttered. "Before he passed away, he told Aragorn that he had sent Eli to follow the Orcs that had taken Merry and Pippin. If we wish to meet her again, we must be quick."
"But we do not know if the Ringbearer is with them or not," said Aragorn. "Are we to abandon him? Must we not seek him first? An evil choice is now before us!"
"Then let us do first what we must do," said Legolas. "We have not the time or the tools to bury our comrade fitly, or to raise a mound over him. A cairn we might build."
"The labor would be hard and long: there are no stones that we could use nearer than the waterside," said Gimli.
Camille stepped forward, speaking at last. "I have an idea." She bent down over Boromir's body, and placed something minute on top of his chest. When Legolas looked more closely, he noticed that it was a seed. What does she intend to do?
The girl was now sitting silently beside the body, eyes closed in concentration. And then, suddenly, the seed burst forth with small leaves, and roots that arched over Boromir's body and plunged deep into the ground. They twined over themselves repeatedly, until at last they hid the Gondorian's body within them. The roots thickened, the trunk grew higher, and the branches spread. Leaves sprouted, only to be shadowed out by a multitude of pale pink blossoms that fluttered in the gentle breeze and filled the air with a delicate scent.
Camille sighed, and got up, staring at the flowers on the lower branches of the tree. "Beneath this cherry tree lies Boromir of Gondor: a noble Man, a brave comrade, and a kind friend. May this tree stand to mark the spot where he fell, guarding his body until the end. May the blossoms of this tree never wither until the White City and Middle-Earth should achieve freedom from the power of the Dark Lord. Should his dream be realized, may this tree flower every spring, and when they wither, may the wind bring the petals to the White City, where his soul may rest for all eternity."
And so it was that Boromir, son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor was buried. The cherry tree bloomed and blossomed, and in after days, when the people of Gondor saw the wind filled with the petals that fell down upon their city, they knew that it was from the tree on Parth Galen, and that Boromir had come to visit his city and his people once more.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: AWWWWWW sniffle, sniffle, WAIL!!!!!! The death of Boromir was so…so…wail, bawl…touching! To die with unrequited love is probably the hardest thing in the world… For those of you aren't really appreciative of drama and mush, I'm sorry. I couldn't help it! I felt that Boromir deserved a nice burial, since he didn't really play that big a role in the story. I think he deserved such a send-off, no matter how sad sniffle it may be.