When the second arrow had pierced him it had stolen his breath. Suddenly the woods were blocked from his vision and all he saw for a brief second were Lasmenel's eyes as she had finally yielded beneath him. His pain was forgotten. Still in the throes of death he swung his sword and, roaring, slew the foes gathering around him while Merry and Pippin remained almost defenceless near where he was crouched.
Boromir cried out fiercely, the heat of battle stealing over him, thrusting his blade deep into the bodies of the enemies that attacked him.
His heart pounded.
Lasmenel's mouth on his, soft and yet powerful.
He swung his blade again and again to defend the hobbits. The arrows protruded from his chest at sharp angles.
When another impaled him he dropped to his knees, gasping for air.
The Uruk-hai stood some feet away and growled as it drew its quiver back, preparing to fire at him again.
Boromir opened his eyes to face the inevitable. Time became caught in a web.
Lasmenel crying out for him, her hands running through his hair, urging him on.
He faintly recognised Aragorn throwing his opponent away from him. He heard the clash of steel as they fought. He fell back, back onto the leaf strewn ground. He stared at the tree above him.
Lasmenel stroking the faint scar on his cheek; close, so close to him now.
I'm sorry Lasmenel, he thought. I have failed you.
He felt the Ranger above him and words sprang from his mouth, now pledging his allegiance to the rightful king of Gondor.
Then it was as if Aragorn melted away, and Boromir could see the canopy of the trees again, dappled pools of light revealed across his face as their branches swayed in the breeze.
Lasmenel's light shone around him as he stood in the path of her eyes, green and brilliant.
The darkness around him faded, and it seemed as if she was with him, her long tresses about his throat, his face in her neck, holding her close to him, his lips to hers.
Aragorn rose sadly, a tear running down his battle weary and begrimed face. Legolas and Gimli ran up, the emotion and grief painted on both their faces.
Boromir lay peacefully, his sword in his grasp under the shade of the tree. A brief ray of silvery light shone down on his proud face through the green leaves, still and unfurrowed in death, the grim line of his jaw relaxed into an expression of peace.
"I will be waiting for you, I will tarry here until you come back".
Lasmenel felt the world grow cold around her. Walking to Elrond's room she paused in the doorway, looking in on the dark Elf as he sat, quietly thinking, in his chair. She felt the dead weight of loss gnawing at her soul, and knew Boromir was gone. He would never to return to Rivendell. They would not walk under the trees again. She looked at Elrond.
"You have the gift of foresight. What do I go to do?"
Elrond looked up at her and saw the light in her eyes grow dim.
"You go to him, Lasmenel. You go to leave this place; I can see it in your eyes".
Lasmenel nodded, her words catching in her throat.
"I was told once that Gondor needed me. Farewell, Lord Elrond".
The Elven lord gazed at her with a resigned sadness creeping over his stern features.
"Namarïe, Lasmenel Calengil".
She left the silent house and walked out into the gardens towards where the horse was tied, grazing contentedly by one of the trees. The air suddenly seemed empty and desolate. Lasmenel untied the steed and mounted slowly, for there was no need for haste.
She rode through the gardens and into the deep dark woods surrounding Rivendell.
"I would bind you to me for all the years of our lives".
Lasmenel rode out until she reached the protective waters that lay on the borders of Imladris. Dismounting, she left the horse by the waterside. The late summer rains had left the normally calm waters heavy and swollen with their fall. She watched the waves rush in graceful abandon and flow in strong currents before her.
"From each of his countless flowers a dew of silver light was ever falling".
So it was now with Lasmenel's eyes. They filled with tears, tears as pure and glistening as the dew that had fallen continuously from Telperion's leaves, streaming down her beautiful face in warm trickles that appeared filled with silver light. She stepped confidently into the waters, feeling the power of the undercurrents; sword maiden of Imladris she did not blanche in fear. Her cloak spread out on the surface of the water behind her.
Lasmenel walked slowly into the water, the waves rising about her waist, fresh and cold. She waded out to the centre of the flow and stood, her feet barely maintaining hold on the shingle beneath them in the boisterous undercurrents.
They laid Boromir, son of Denethor in a small barge, his sword and shield close to him. The horn of Gondor they kept, though it was useless, having been cloven in two. With heavy hearts, the three companions set the barge out onto the waters and watched it drift out of sight. As they walked back into the forest the barge continued its journey, swiftly travelling to the edge of the mighty falls and passing over the brink into the rushing tide and the cool foam.
She did not close her eyes as the waves rose about her shoulders and then to her neck. Then, she submerged herself beneath the surface of the rushing flow, her eyes still open and now brilliant as they had been before.
Like two shining emeralds they glimmered beneath the waves as if caught in an unseen beam of silver light.
Boromir, I am coming.
The waters increased in girth, the waves reaching perilous heights, and Lasmenel was carried along with them, willing them on, faster and faster as their cloying wet force filled her lungs and eyes, her tears like star spray on the tips of the foam. Then a sudden, inexplicable power caused the waters to climb to new heights, the white horses crashing over the shingle and the ground in frightening waves.
When they subsided Lasmenel was gone, and the fair sword maiden of Imladris, oft called Calengil by the Elves was seen no more in Middle - Earth, nor was her body ever found; for it was not known where the sacred waters had taken her.
No more was the light of Telperion seen on Middle - Earth, yet upon the crowning of King Elessar, in the gardens of his kingdom grew a seedling from Nimloth, a white tree in the heart of the city. Its light was not so powerful as the eldest of trees, yet there was something in its radiance of Lasmenel's hair, its glimmering glow like silver under sun and moonlight. And so it was that part of Lasmenel remained, to cast her light on the kin of Boromir, in the midst of the White City he loved.
Legolas walked away from the small sapling in the courtyard to join Gimli the dwarf in the continuing festivities. He lifted his wondrous voice to the skies and sang a haunting refrain as the stars came out in the heavens and shone on the branches of the white tree.
"Telperion bore at last upon one leafless bough one great flower of silver...then for a while the world had moonlight".
- Of the Sun and the Moon and the Hiding of Valinor, The Silmarillion