After sending out messengers to bring Faramir and Boromir back to the palace, Aragorn took leave of his friends and retreated to his own quarters. There he cast off his travel worn garments and washed the dust of the trail from himself, so that he could be arrayed in raiment more fitting for his status as Gondor's King. When he emerged, not more than half an hour later, he was dressed in midnight blue finery, the emblem of the White Tree and Seven Stars in a striking silver upon his breast.
As he strode through the hallways on his way to the Main Hall, where he would attempt to learn what he could from Boromir, he was stopped by Gandalf. The wizard had once again held vigil over Legolas, and now he stopped Aragorn with an update.
"Aragorn, a word please."
"Of course, Gandalf. What is it? Is something the matter with Legolas?"
"No, uh, yes, well, not quite. I did not dare say so in front of Thranduil, but I must warn you. You know how grave Legolas' condition is."
To this, Aragron nodded.
"Every hour that passes without his body rejecting the poison, hope for his survival wanes. And even if he does respond, there is no guarantee that he will wake from the shadow that lies over him."
Aragorn lowered his eyes for a moment before responding in a low voice. "I know." He sighed. "If only there was more that I could do for him."
"There is. You must try and discover whatever you can when Boromir gets here. If there is even the slightest information regarding this poison, we must try and find it, though I will admit, I do not have much hope for that."
"I will try, but I ask that you and the others be present for the questioning, for we all have need of answers. I will call for Ioreth the nursemaid and have her watch over Legolas."
Gandalf nodded his head. "I will gather the others."
Within an hour's time, Ioreth had come and been given precise instructions by Aragorn. At all times there was to be someone with the elf, and it mattered not even if Aragorn were in the middle of the impending inquisition - any change in Legolas' condition was to be reported immediately by either herself or Rafa, one of her helpers.
Thick grey clouds continued to roll in, and before long, a light rain had begun, just as Stamlin, the prison guard, arrived with his brother Orgred by his side, with the chained Boromir, fuming with malice, between them. Faramir came before them, the Steward of Gondor. The three men greeted their king and then Boromir was led before a semi-circle of chairs, in which sat Arwen and Aragorn in the center, flanked by Gandalf, Thranduil, and Gimli, with an open seat in which Faramir took his place.
Outside, the rain whipped up into a wild storm.
"Boromir, son of Denethor," began Aragorn, "you are charged with a host of crimes under the laws of Gondor, but as per tradition, sentencing will be withheld until after a thorough and unbiased questioning is held. Let the record show that you have been captured as the power behind a kidnapping plot as well as cruelty and torture, and attempted murder. To what to each of these charges do you plead?"
Boromir did not speak.
"Will you not speak?"
"I do only my Master's bidding. I do not answer to petty fools as yourself."
Aragorn did not even flinch.
"Then who is this master of yours?"
"Neither threat of death nor promise of torture will ever break my oath to keep the Master's identity hidden," Boromir responded, none too politely.
"This master, you have seen them?"
"Yes."
"Do you fear this master?"
For a moment, a glaring hatred passed over Boromir. It was only noticeable in his eyes, for his face remained as still as stone, but Aragorn and the others caught it nevertheless.
"How did you come to possess a poison of Mordor?" asked Aragorn, changing his approach.
"The Master has many ways of dispensing such products. It was not hard to come by, though I dare say it will be near impossible to save the elf. There is no cure." At this, Boromir gave a low evil laugh to himself.
Aragorn nodded thoughtfully. "Yes, well, we are one step ahead of you. But come now, let us talk of other things. What did you hope to gain from Legolas' capture and death?"
"I did only did my Master's bidding."
"So it was nothing personal? No personal agenda?"
"The rewards for putting the Master's plan into action would have been far greater then you petty insects can imagine."
Though Aragorn did not show it, he was becoming increasingly frustrated. Boromir had parried each question easily, never getting tripped up in subject changes. This, Gandalf could sense, and so the wizard turned to his friend.
"Aragorn, I ask your permission to interrogate the prisoner," he asked formally.
"As you wish, Gandalf."
At this, Gandalf rose from his chair, staff upraised in his hands. In a commanding voice, he ordered, "Foul hands of evil! Release your grip from this man! For I shall find your source and destroy it!"
The suddenness with which Gandalf made his move took Boromir off guard and before he could react, a single white ray of light erupted from the wizard's staff and held Boromir.
"NO!" the man cried out and he began to curse the wizard's name.
Seconds dragged slowly by. Suddenly, a change came over Boromir. He became once again the Boromir of Gondor that had been their friend and companion. He sank to his knees, looking pained.
"Gandalf? Aragorn? Help me. He's got too strong a hold on me. Please, you must do something. Don't let him take me again! I can't fight him."
His voice was that of a broken man, weary and yet desperate. But as suddenly as his transformation had occurred, he changed back into the evil driven figure they had been questioning, for the strain to Gandalf had been great and he no longer had the strength to beat back the evil.
Again, Boromir began to laugh, a horrible, malicious laugh. "Old fool! What did you think you were doing? You have not the power to match that of my Master!"
