Disclaimer ~ I don't own the characters or the plot, which are property of J.R.R. Tolkien, but the words are mine.
I had arrived too late. For all my elven speed and skill, I had arrived too late. From where I stood among the trees, I watched as Boromir's usually bright, excited eyes dimmed and faded into the nothingness that comes with death.
After Gandalf's fall, I had had to convince myself that he would be the only one of the fellowship to leave us. It had taken many weeks, but I had managed. Now, I would have to do so again. If I do not, then I shall despair, and then, all will be lost.
I feel dirty. As though my hands have been stained with the blood of both my comrade's deaths. If I had but been a little faster, if I had just turned left rather than right, perhaps I could have arrived in time to save Boromir. And, before Gandalf fell, there had been plenty of time to reach him, to pull him to the surface. Had I been a coward then? Would I ever know? Somehow I doubted that I would. Even Galadriel's mirror did not have the power to tell me.
I closed my eyes and muttered a prayer, just as I had after Gandalf fell.
Despite myself, I wondered who would be the next to die. Would it be me? Would I care if it were? I had lived for many years already. There were some, the hobbits for example, who were but children compared to the rest of us. Their deaths would truly be tragic, and I hoped that I wouldn't have to witness such things.
I thought of what would happen if Aragorn or Gimli were to leave us. In the beginning, I would not have minded if Gimli were to die, but now... now I could not imagine the fellowship without the dwarf. I realized with some shock that I had come to consider him one of my dearest friends.
And Aragorn? If Aragorn were to fall we would be lost. He is our leader, and no one can take his place. Unlike when Gandalf fell, there is no one to pass leadership on to. I am not a leader, I am a warrior, a prince. I am not king. With luck, I will never be. I cannot say how Gimli would take the burden of leadership. Perhaps he would be capable, but I doubt it. Thus far, he has proven himself to be like me, a follower. Perhaps even an advisor, of sorts.
I had to tear my gaze away from Boromir's form. There was work to be done. We needed to find the others. The four hobbits are the least likely to survive long in the wilderness alone.
I had arrived too late. For all my elven speed and skill, I had arrived too late. From where I stood among the trees, I watched as Boromir's usually bright, excited eyes dimmed and faded into the nothingness that comes with death.
After Gandalf's fall, I had had to convince myself that he would be the only one of the fellowship to leave us. It had taken many weeks, but I had managed. Now, I would have to do so again. If I do not, then I shall despair, and then, all will be lost.
I feel dirty. As though my hands have been stained with the blood of both my comrade's deaths. If I had but been a little faster, if I had just turned left rather than right, perhaps I could have arrived in time to save Boromir. And, before Gandalf fell, there had been plenty of time to reach him, to pull him to the surface. Had I been a coward then? Would I ever know? Somehow I doubted that I would. Even Galadriel's mirror did not have the power to tell me.
I closed my eyes and muttered a prayer, just as I had after Gandalf fell.
Despite myself, I wondered who would be the next to die. Would it be me? Would I care if it were? I had lived for many years already. There were some, the hobbits for example, who were but children compared to the rest of us. Their deaths would truly be tragic, and I hoped that I wouldn't have to witness such things.
I thought of what would happen if Aragorn or Gimli were to leave us. In the beginning, I would not have minded if Gimli were to die, but now... now I could not imagine the fellowship without the dwarf. I realized with some shock that I had come to consider him one of my dearest friends.
And Aragorn? If Aragorn were to fall we would be lost. He is our leader, and no one can take his place. Unlike when Gandalf fell, there is no one to pass leadership on to. I am not a leader, I am a warrior, a prince. I am not king. With luck, I will never be. I cannot say how Gimli would take the burden of leadership. Perhaps he would be capable, but I doubt it. Thus far, he has proven himself to be like me, a follower. Perhaps even an advisor, of sorts.
I had to tear my gaze away from Boromir's form. There was work to be done. We needed to find the others. The four hobbits are the least likely to survive long in the wilderness alone.