I don't own LotR
Wyniel wore a dress of the deepest black and a veil that fell to her ankles. Boromir was bedecked in a robe of sable fur that fell over his silver armor. The entire city walked behind them, dressed in their darkest best, and this somber procession filed out of the city and marched toward the river.
Dozens of guards stood watch over Osgiliath and the river where a small boat was docked. Wyniel, the pale child in her arms, wept silently with a high-held chin. Boromir was beside her, and she could hear the footsteps of Faramir and the creak of his leather armor, studded with Obsidian. Denethor's heavy breaths gave her the image of his stern face, but she was glad that he attended. Finally at the river, the four nobles halted and turned to face the crowd. The fifth departed noble lay still in his mother's arms. He was dressed in a glittering silver, and gold shavings were sprinkled on his head.
"Weep, citizens of Minas Tirith, for today you send off a lost child." Denethor shouted. All could hear the strain in his voice: he was mourning. "He would have been your Steward, a great leader and honorable man. But alas, he was taken, far too horribly and far too soon."
The tears ran down Wyniel's cheeks and fell to her feet. Boromir had silent tears as well. Wyniel couldn't see, but she knew Faramir would be mourning greatly. The citizens, all of the women and most of the children and men, were weeping, brushing their eyes with black handkerchiefs.
The guards in Osgiliath gave a wild cry: "Ecthelion!" thrice they shouted, and Wyniel grasped her boy tighter. She didn't want to let him go, but Boromir, who had grabbed her arm, led her to the small boat. The wind took her veil and lifted it, allowing mother and child to be face-to-face, and her tears dropped onto his chest. She laid him in the little boat, and Boromir, kneeling over the water, untied the rope. The gentle waters carried him downstream, among the leaves, which were no longer red, but brown.
"I told him I'd show him the sea." Wyniel said, almost in a whisper.
Boromir placed his arm around her waist. "He'll love it. The sea will be calm for Gondor's son."