Sappy partings, I couldn't resist!
I don't own LotR
"Wyniel!" Boromir exclaimed, kneeling next to his gasping wife.
"Forgive me." Wyniel stuttered. Her breath was strained. As the color began to fade from her cheeks, blood appeared at the corners of her mouth.
"What do you speak of? You talk as if you're dieing." Boromir said. He was beginning to cry.
"I am dead." Wyniel responded. "Please forgive me." tears ran down her own face. "I have brought shame to you, where honor was needed." her words were slow and gasped from her lungs. She coughed weakly and a drop of blood appeared on her tongue.
"No." Boromir supported her pierced body in one arm and held her hand with the other. "You have given me life, and love. You've brought me peace." Boromir's tears dropped to the ground next to Wyniel's pale face. The horses approached timidly.
"Ever did I love you, Boromir, and try to please you. My foolishness brought me my end. Kiss me!" she gasped. "Kiss me before I go."
And Boromir did, and their tears were mixed upon each other's cheeks. Trying very hard for her breath now, Wyniel rasped.
"I can hear the music, but I leave my heaven and its angel instead of approach it." she smiled faintly, but coughed again.
"Please don't leave me!" Boromir pleaded in vain. "I love you." he cried, but Wyniel looked him in the eyes and answered:
"Kiss me. We'll look over you. Our son needs his mother. Kiss me." Boromir kissed her, and she relaxed in his arm. Her grip loosened on his own, and she was dead.
Boromir held her for several minutes, listening to the silence only disturbed by the running water and the creeping horses. They whinnied lightly, almost mourning their rider.
Standing abruptly and proud, Boromir turned his sight to Osgiliath. Already out of the city, Boromir could see some shapes fleeing under the shadow of a cloud that stretched over the mountains to the east. Quickly jumping on a horse, Boromir galloped to the shapes, which turned out to be three small orcs. Leaping from the horse he sternly slew all three, separating each of their heads from their bodies, and piercing them from chin to crown on his blade. With this gruesome scepter he sent the extra horse, Wyniel's, back to Minas Tirith, and on his own he carried his dead bride.