For the rest of his days Boromir would never be able to explain how he survived the great chase that carried him after the uruks and his own dear Merry. Miles upon miles they ran, hour after hour, stopping neither to rest nor eat. At times he lagged behind, but not often any more than Gimli's shorter legs caused him to lag.

Aragorn watched him at first with doubt, then worry, and in time with a sort of wonder.

Even Legolas remarked, as they reached the borders to Rohan and made a decision to rest for a few hours, "Minis Tirith must be an incredible city indeed if it is filled with such men as Boromir."

He had been drifting to sleep, but he heard that and nearly smiled, though worry drove it back.

"I had not think he would make it half so far," Aragorn said quietly, as Boromir's eyes shut and he tried to find some kind of rest. "Or else I had planned that the chase would be slowed. I fear for what this is doing to him, and that there will be a collapse too strong to recover from in the future. "

"As for me, I doubt no longer. I've lived my entire life with none but other dwarves around me, and we are entirely convinced of our own strength as being greater than other races. But neither elf nor man will I ever doubt again. Nor hobbit, if those two young things are alive when we find them again."

Boromir's heart ached painfully at that, and he opened his eyes again. If he were to sleep he would only be plagued by dreams and no rest would be gotten that way. "I think a time might come when we see that hobbits are stronger than the rest of us," he said quietly.

The three looked to him, and Aragorn nodded. "I hope you're right."

Their thoughtful conversation was cut short as Legolas stood, eyes fixed on a growing dark spot on the horizon. "There are horsemen coming."

They got to their feet, and as the men of Rohan approached Boromir felt himself strengthened. These were allies, men he had fought with before. No matter which garrison, he knew the soldiers of Rohan.

Indeed, as the men drew close and Aragorn called to them, the man leading the garrison pulled off his helmet and cried out for a halt. "Boromir!"

"Eomer!" Boromir stepped forward, moving past his companions as the horsemen circled around. "What brings you this far north?"

"The same could be asked of you," Eomer replied, jumping from his horse and clasping arms with Boromir. They had known each other many years, and fought together more than once. Both lords of their cities, if not royal. Eomer looked at his face for only a moment before he frowned. "And wounded? In this company? Come, Boromir, speak."

"We hunt a band of uruks marching towards Isengard. They've captured two of our friends." It was Aragorn who answered, and Boromir nodded for him to come forward.

"There is no need to be hesitant," Boromir told his friends. "Then men of Rohan are no servants of any enemy."

"No," Eomer answered firmly. "But...neither are we at war. Not yet. Boromir, if you come to Rohan to seek the king you will find things sadly changed."

"How so? Do I guess right that it involved Saruman?"

"It does indeed, though my suspicions don't have solid fact behind them. The king's mind has been slipping away these last months, and now I fear he is overthrown. He no longer recognizes friend from foe."

Boromir had to stop to keep from voicing similar fears about where his own father's mind was headed. "These uruks we hunt, we are following their trail now, and on their trail you ride. Can you tell us anything?"

"I can tell you that you don't need to follow them longer. The uruks are destroyed. We attacked them in the night." Eomer clasped his shoulder. "Come, Boromir, you can--"

Boromir flinched and paled, pulling away from his grip. "Careful, old friend. I fear I'm in worse condition than I have ever been."

Eomer's smile vanished. "Then come, straight away. We will take you back to Edoras and you will be tended."

"The uruks, Eomer. They were holding two of our friends. Hobbits. What became of them?" Boromir's face was pale again, and worry was overcoming him. He knew how the wild men of Rohan fought in the night, and knew very little would have escaped alive.

"We saw none but uruks and a few orcs. We piled the dead to burn them, and there are none but those foul beasts smoking now."

"They would be small," Aragorn put in. "Children to your eyes. Perhaps overlooked?"

"The Rohirrim do not overlook our enemies, small or large. But what are these hobbits?"

"Halflings," Boromir stated quietly. "From out of legend and tales. Strange and small, but dear to us. Very dear."

"Halflings!" Eomer chuckled lowly. "But you do arrive in strange company. There was nothing like these halflings among the uruks we slaughtered. Perhaps they got loose."

He shook his head solemnly. "We've been following their trail closely, and my friends are more skilled trackers than any I've ever seen. We could not have missed their path had they gotten loose."

"I don't know what to tell you. Your friends aren't there. Perhaps they were flown away, or got out during the fighting, but more than likely they were disposed of well before now. The uruks like those we slaughtered don't take prisoners."

Boromir frowned back at his friends. Gimli's head was bowed, as if mourning already. Aragorn looked grim, but determined. Boromir met his gaze for a moment, then Aragorn nodded and stepped forward. "We will go on. We haven't followed our friends all this way to surrender without seeing sign of them."

But Eomer kept his eyes on Boromir. "You can search if you like, but why not ride with us? Return to Edoras. Boromir of Gondor and his companions would be most welcome in these dark times."

Boromir shook his head instantly. "We'll not surrender our friends. We are free to travel through Rohan, are we not?"

Eomer frowned, but nodded slowly. "Anyone traveling with Boromir is welcome in our lands. Here." He gave a sharp whistle and called three names, and three horses without riders emerged when their names were called. "I will provide horses. Wounded men will travel better if they ride, and this might help your search." He went forward to the horses, taking their reins and leading them forward.

Boromir took a set of reigns and couldn't quite hide his relief. "Thank you. I could have run to the edges of Mordor if I had to, but I find this a relief."

"I should think so." Eomer passed the other two to Aragorn and Legolas. "But I would ask a favor of you before you leave us. All of you." He turned to the four of them in turn. "When you have found your friends or lost all hope, come to Edoras. We have need of all signs of hope we can get. Let us fight together as we once did." That was directed at Boromir. "You will have to return to your land, I know. We hear dark tidings of the course of battle in Gondor. But to come, to give our men the knowledge that we don't fight alone, would be a boost unlooked for and most welcome."

Boromir clasped his arm. "You have my word. We will come, or I will come alone. But I fear if we don't find our friends it will be a while before I give up all hope."

Eomer studied him for a moment, then nodded. "These halflings must be out of mighty legend to inspire such loyalty from Boromir, and Ranger and elf and dwarf."

"A strange race, to be sure," Gimli stated, eying the horse near to Legolas with dourness on his face. "But merry and hearty and brave, to be sure. They deserve perhaps least of all races to be left in the hands of such foul creatures. To think of them reaching the very clutch of that dark shadow in the east..."

Boromir shuddered suddenly and visibly. "You should not speak of such things," he said quickly, his voice rough. The image of those two, and of Merry in particular, suffering in the tormenting hands of the evil that had haunted the borders of his land for so long... He couldn't stomach it. It would be like imagining Faramir in their hands, but...worse. because Faramir was a fighter, a strong man. Stronger than Boromir himself in many ways. Stronger in himself. But Merry was an innocent, a caring and gentle soul. He deserved no torment. He deserved a life in his Shire, smiling and happy and making others laugh. He deserved to smile and to love and be loved in return.

Boromir fought back his thoughts and emotions, realizing that Eomer was still looking at him, and that his expression was odd. He glanced at his companions. Gimli gazed at him solemnly, but there was a strangeness to Aragorn and Legolas's faces that made his cheeks heat with sudden warmth. He looked away.

Aragorn spoke after a moment. "We will join him if we can. I would like to see the halls of Edoras, and to meet Theoden again."

"Again? I fear you will find him changed." Eomer drew his eyes to his own men. "Very well. Then look for your friends, and I will hope to see you soon."

He mounted his horse with the easy grace that the Rohirrim all seemed to possess. After spurring his horse on he shouted to lead the battalions of horsemen behind him.

The fleet took a few minutes to pass, and when the last horses had kicked up dust around them and left them to their own devices, Boromir turned to his mount. The men of Gondor were not typically riders. They fought their battles on the floor of woods and the enemy came to them too often for them to have to ride out to meet battle.

Still, the tug in his side and the dullness in his heart made him more glad to see the beast than he'd ever been to see a horse before.

"Come on," he said gruffly, mounting with difficulty, though he didn't let it show for more than a second. "They're still out there somewhere."

"So we hope," Gimli answered in a growl as Legolas helped him to mount the horse they would share.

No, thought Boromir, looking out at the path they were taking. More than hope. It had to be more.