Boromir, Thou Shall Live
By Priscilla Stafford
Author's Note: I hope all my reviewers are pleased to hear that this is the LONGEST chapter I've written so far! I hope you really enjoy it since Boromir has an adventure! Enjoy!
Special thanks to everyone at the bottom of the chapter.
Oh, one more thing! In the previous chapter, for a stupid reason I really can't remember, I typed 'Amon Sul' instead of 'Amon Hen'. The mistake has been fixed thanks to Aelimir who informed me of it! Thanks so much!
Chapter Eleven: Unexpected Meetings
Though it was still in the middle of the afternoon, dark clouds hung heavy in the air. Aragorn's mood felt as dark as the clouds for the nearer they got towards Helm's Deep, a foreboding sense of danger kept nagging in his mind.
Aragorn was now riding just behind King Theoden while Legolas and Gimli rode by his side. He stole a quick glance towards the Elf and saw that Legolas too seemed agitated for he rode his horse with his back ramrod straight.
On the other hand, Gimli of course did not hide his agitation. Instead he was openly grumbling now. Even now he was complaining, "I have said it before..."
"And we will probably hear it many times more," Legolas said with a sigh.
Gimli glared into the back of the Elf's head but finished his sentence. "I do not like the look of those clouds, nor do I like the idea of going to Helm's Deep."
King Theoden at that moment joined in irritably. "Well Master Dwarf, if you are afraid of battle, you may leave on your own free will. Nothing is stopping you."
Aragorn rolled his eyes up as he sidled up towards his two companion's horses. "Gimli, I suggest you remember your manners. It does not do to make a king upset."
The Dwarf seemed not to listen though as he was still shocked by what Theoden had said. "Me, afraid? It seems the King of Rohan does not know too many Dwarves. Afraid, ha! Dwarves are one of the bravest of all, for we..."
The Ranger stopped listening as he saw a figure on horseback approaching the Rohirrim. Without thought, Aragorn casually laid his hand on the handle of Andurin. Trouble it may not be, but Aragorn was a cautious man.
Theoden too seemed to have seen the approaching horseman and signaled for them to halt to await the stranger.
The man came, a weary man with his helmet dinted and his shield cracked. After coming down from his horse he stood there a while gasping for breath. Finally, he looked up to really look into the eyes of Theoden. Suddenly, his whole demeanor changed and his eyes widened in joy and wonder. Hastily he went down on one knee. "My lord, King Theoden! Pardon my manners, I did not recognize..."
"You thought I remained in Meduseld bent like an old tree under winter snow," Theoden said, but his tone was not one filled with anger. "So I was when you rode to war. But a west wind has shaken the boughs. Tell me, what news do you bring?"
"My lord, it is even now too late for Rohan. We were driven back yesterday over the Isen with great loss, many perished at the crossing. Then at night, fresh forces came over the river against our camp. All Isengard must be emptied and Saruman has loosed them all upon us. We were overmastered and the shield-wall was broken. Erkenbrand of Westfold has drawn off those men he could gather towards the fastness in Helm's Deep. The rest are scattered."
Aragorn watched as a change came over Theoden. The King was now grim and stern faced, for the news had angered him. He sat silent then spoke. "The last host of the Eorlingas has ridden forth. It will not return without battle." Theoden turned to face his men, but mostly looked into the eyes of Aragorn. "Give this man a fresh horse, we ride to the help of Erkenbrand!"
The man from Erkenbrand suddenly stood up to go into the line of sight of the king. "King Theoden, it will be all in vain for I have not told you all. Saruman not only sent all of his armies, he sent ahead his Warg riders. They overtook us in the morning and many of us were lost though we triumphed. Even with our forces combined, it will not be enough to defeat the armies of Isengard. So it is that Erkenbrand told me to inform you that he will be making his way towards Helm's Deep where together we might hold off our foes."
Theoden slightly relaxed in his saddle. "Erkenbrand is wise and we will listen to his counsel. We ride for Helm's Deep!"
'And to whatever awaits us there,' thought Aragorn. He was angered with the cruelty of Saruman, for the Warg riders were vicious warriors. And though the orcs may be killed, the Wargs itself were hard and ferocious beasts to kill. He spurred his horse along to match pace with the King who rode in front; for wherever the rode lay, he would fight for the land of Rohan, for brave men resided in these lands. He would do all he can to raise up these courageous men.
**********
Haldir had been right in saying that Maiorama was a horse with a speed all her own. Boromir was also thankful that the horse had an easy gate for the pain in his side and shoulder did not hurt him as much as he thought it would.
It was now late in the afternoon and he had made wonderful time. The Limlight he had crossed long before and even now, he guessed that Fangorn Forests had been passed by on the west. He doubted he could reach the Entwash that day but hoped to cross it before it grew dark the next day.
He slowed his horse to a slow trot for the area was hilly and the ground was covered with rocks.
Boromir got lost in his thoughts as he continued journeying south. What worried him was whether his decision had been the right one. One thing he knew, he was correct in not trying to find Frodo. Shamefully he admitted that the closer they went into Mordor, it was most probable that the call of the Ring would become too strong. He had already fallen once and resisted, who knew if he would be able to resist it again.
But what of the rest of the Fellowship? Could he abandon them? Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli he knew were in Rohan, fighting off Saruman's armies. And Haldir was also there. Why didn't Boromir go to aide them?
And he knew deep in his heart why he did not go towards Rohan. It was the shame deep down, hidden in his heart. Galadriel still believed in him, she had told him herself. But what right had he to have her trust in him? So wise, so beautiful, it was still possible that the Elf Lady was wrong to believe in him.
With all his heart, Boromir did not want to disappoint the fair Elf. He was determined to prove her wrong, he would use his second chance in life to protect and fight for Middle Earth.
Still, he doubted if he could face the rest of the Fellowship, most especially Aragorn. What did the heir of Isildur think of him he wondered? Was Aragorn disappointed? Or had he secretly all along distrusted Boromir, knowing he would fail? The questions swirled around in Boromir's head, yet no answers presented themselves to him.
So, to Minas Tirith he would go. There his father waited for him, as did his brother. Boromir wondered what they were doing, thinking at that moment. Did they worry about him? Boromir knew that Faramir would indeed miss him for even now, he missed his younger brother terribly. His little brother who he promised to protect ever since their mother died. Boromir wondered if Faramir believed he had abandoned him. Nine months it had already been since he had left Minas Tirith for Rivendell. A long time that was.
How did his father fare now? Denethor had always trusted many matters of Gondor in his oldest son. Without Boromir, Denethor would have to rely on Faramir.
At the thought, Boromir flinched. It was clear to everyone that the Steward of Gondor often found favor in his eldest son while found little favor in the younger son. For years Boromir had tried to understand his father in this matter. But even now, he always became perplexed over the situation. He would often see his younger brother ignored, sometimes even scorned, by their father. On numerous occasions, Boromir had questioned and even argued with Denethor about his treatment of Faramir. Yet always, the Steward would rarely give an honest answer. Boromir had always been stubborn, but no one he knew was more stubborn than his father.
Boromir shook himself out of his reverie as he realized that Maiorama had suddenly stopped. The horse shifted her feet nervously and as Boromir leaned over to soothingly rub her neck, he saw the horse was flaring her nostrils. She was clearly disturbed yet Boromir knew not why.
Throughout the whole journey, Maiorama had been a calm horse. Why was she now acting so strange? Boromir's eyes scanned the area to see if he could spot anything.
They were now in a small clearing surrounded by large rocks which blocked Boromir's view of the horizon. He decided to move on for nothing appeared out of the ordinary. So gently he urged the nervous horse to a canter. Maybe the distance from this certain place would help calm Maiorama down.
Boromir's choice to move may have just saved his life.
Out of the corner of his eye, Boromir saw a large creature hurl itself towards him. Instead of catching Boromir right on the head if he had been staying still, the creature only bumped into the man's shoulder.
If it had been any other day, Boromir would have stayed in the saddle. Unfortunately, the shoulder was the same shoulder which he had received an arrow wound. Boromir gasped in pain and fell off the horse with the force of the blow.
Being the warrior he was, Boromir did not land heavily yet hitting the ground jarred his teeth painful. His instincts screamed for him to get up though, for the danger had not passed. He swiftly got up and faced whatever had taken him down.
Boromir's eyes widened as he recognized the large beast. A Warg it was indeed, a large and ferocious one to be exact. The giant wolf-beast had coarse brown fur and to Boromir's keen eyes the fur looked wet. At the moment, the Warg was crouched down low, a deep growl emitting from his throat.
Knowing the Warg would spring at him at any moment, Boromir wasted no time in unsheathing his sword. Instead, he too crouched low, reading to spring out of the way. He knew, once he was pinned down by such a large beast, he would never get up again.
With the speed usually not associated with such a lumbering animal, the Warg sprung towards Boromir. He had no time to think, Boromir jumped to safer ground, twisting his body so as to make himself a narrower target.
The trick seemed to work as the Warg again flew right past. Even before Boromir was fully standing up, he drew his sword.
For one magical moment, the clouds seemed to part and a ray of light shone upon the blade. Or was it that the blade came alight with its own power? Boromir did not know. Whatever it was, whether it could be explained or not, Elanorcil now shone with a brilliant flash with the colors of the sun at its highest peak in the sky.
The sight took Boromir's breath away as he stared transfixed at his sword. His hand shaking, he reached out to run his fingers along the blade. What magic had Galadriel put into his sword?
Fortunately, during the whole time, the Warg too seemed frightened of the strange sight. Boromir took the chance to take a firm grip on his sword and ran towards to the dumbstruck beast.
Boromir knew that an archer at a distance was a dangerous enemy. Yet he also knew, the closer he got to the archer, the less time the enemy had time to prepare his arrow. In the same way, the Warg had great leaping abilities and could pin its target in the blink of an eye. But clumsy it was in close quarters, and Boromir used that to his advantage.
As soon as he was close enough to strike the beast, Boromir swung his sword with blinding speed.
The Warg had by then regained thought and saw what Boromir would do. The beast barely sidestepped the blow and though Boromir intended to slice the neck he only sliced its shoulder.
Growling in frustration, the Warg swung a mighty paw in Boromir's direction, claws fully extended. The man of Gondor turned his body and avoided getting clawed, but just barely. As he turned, Boromir extended his sword arm hoping to hit the beast.
Luckily, the sword caught the side of the Warg's face. The beast yelped in anger and stepped back, preparing to pounce.
An idea flashed through Boromir's mind so quickly he barely had time to react. He had noticed that his foe had a saddle on its back. The able captain and warrior he was, an attack strategy formed in his mind.
The beast leaped. This time, Boromir did not get completely out of the way. Instead in leaned far enough towards his right to avoid the animal, but close enough to grab the saddle.
His shoulder screamed in protest as Boromir flung himself up into the saddle. But Boromir only gritted his teeth and pushed the pain away. But jus as he sat in the seat, the Warg finished its leap and landed on the ground with a bone jarring thud.
Struggling to keep from falling from the now bucking beast, Boromir raised his sword to strike. And strike he did.
With all of his strength, Boromir plunged the sword into the neck of the Warg. The blade was sharp and went deep. Boromir was thrown off the saddle and was fortunately able to take Elanorcil with him.
He rolled away, far enough not to be crushed by the Warg which was now thrashing around, choking from the wound. Boromir got up and held his sword in a defensive position, ready for anything.
Finally, the Warg stopped its frantic moving around. It lay deathly still and Boromir cautiously approached the animal. Kicking it with his foot, the man saw that it was indeed dead.
Boromir dropped down to his knees and tried to still his beating heart. He counted himself lucky that he was still alive. Skilled with a sword he may be, but Wargs were still a dangerous foe.
Suddenly, Boromir heard a ferocious growl behind him. He turned around and saw another Warg running towards him. As if in slow motion, the beast lunged for the unprotected man. Caught unawares, Boromir could only stare, knowing this was the end.
But, to Boromir's utter surprise, he wasn't knocked over. Instead, a huge winged creature plummeted down from the sky and grabbed the Warg in midday. The Warg was thrown senseless against a huge rock. The animal went still and Boromir looked in relief to his rescuer.
His eyes widened as he recognized his hero to be an Eagle. The Eagle was majestic and huge, his wingspan tip to tip could easily be longer than eight meters. Right now, the Eagle was watching him closely, eyes unblinking as if he was memorizing every detail of Boromir's person.
The man of Gondor was about to speak but was distracted as the Warg which had been thrown against the rock was now getting up on its feet. With a howl, the beast leaped with tremendous strength straight towards the Eagle.
Boromir reacted without thinking. He lightly tossed his sword up so he could change his grip on the handle. As soon as his hand grasped the handle comfortably, with blinding speed and strength he threw the sword directly into the Warg's chest. The Warg was dead even before it hit the rocks below.
Calmly getting up on his feet, Boromir bowed to the Eagle. "I thank you. I am indebted to you."
The Eagle ruffled his feathers what Boromir thought might be a shrug. "We shall call it even, for in the end it was you who killed the fell beast. Tell me, what is a warrior like you traveling alone in this part of Middle Earth?"
Knowing not how to answer, Boromir only said, "I am a warrior, on my way to the city of Minas Tirith."
Coming uncomfortably close because of its great height, the Eagle towered over Boromir then leaned down to peer into the man's face. "Not of the Rohirrim, yet you are traveling in these parts. You have the looks of a man of Gondor, yet you are cloaked with an Elvish cloak. You fight like a great warrior, yet you are traveling alone and not with any army though I would expect you to lead, not follow."
Boromir held back for a few moments, surprised that the Eagle had noticed so much. He then decided to trust the Eagle. He knew that Gandalf had a great respect for the Eagles, and though it was Boromir's first encounter with an Eagle, he found the winged creature noble and majestic. Boromir held his chin up with a sense of dignity and pride. "I am Boromir, Captain of Gondor. My father is Denethor, Steward of Gondor."
The Eagle made a gurgling noise. Boromir realized that the great bird was laughing. "I had not expected you to give me your name, for from what I know, the race of men have always been a mistrusting and doubtful people. But I believe you have given me your true name. We Eagles have always admired truth and honesty. Since you have trusted me with your name, I freely give you mine. I am Gwaihir the Windlord."
The name was familiar and Boromir bowed once more. "An honor to meet you, Lord of all Eagles."
"And an honor to meet you also, Lord Boromir."
Boromir walked over to the dead body to retrieve his sword. He pulled the blade free and began wiping the blood off. Soon the sword was giving off a dull yellow glow, all the blood wiped away.
Gwaihir kept his sharp eyes on the sword the whole while. Finally he spoke. "In all actuality, it is the sword which drew my attention towards you. A beautiful Elvish sword that is, magic is clearly forged into its metal."
Uncomfortable with the way Gwaihir stared intently at the sword, he returned it to its scabbard. "It was a gift, from the Lady of Lothlorien."
There it was, that gurgling sound again. "You never cease to amaze me, strange one."
Thinking that a change of subject was in order, Boromir asked something of the Windlord. "Gwaihir, Windlord of the skies, what news of Middle Earth do you have?"
The Windlord shook his head solemnly. "Evil tidings indeed, evil tidings. Isengard has been emptied and even now Saruman's armies are pouring into Rohan like a raging disease. They wiped out many of Erkenbrand's men who were protecting the Western front. The rest are scattered after the Warg riders were sent to attack them."
"What of King Theoden?"
"Leading his hosts to Helm's Deep he is. He is hoping to defend the keep against Saruman's armies."
'Where was Haldir?' wondered Boromir. "Have you seen any Elves at all, Lord Gwaihir?"
The Eagle cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. "It is strange that you mention Elves, for it is true, a host of Elves are heading towards Helm's Deep. Of this how did you know."
Boromir only said, "It does not really matter. One thing I must ask, and forgive me if I am so inquisitive for much I need to know. It would please me much if you could give me the truth. Will the Rohirrim survive the onslaught of Saruman's forces?"
Gwaihir eyes seemed to soften. "Tens of thousands against hundreds? Who knows honestly what the outcome will be. The Hornburg has never been breached, but has it ever withstood an army of tens of thousands?" The Eagle gave him a sympathetic look. "Nay, son of Gondor. You already know what my heart says for in your heart, you also know the same thing."
The man of Gondor looked down, his heart heavy with sadness. The situation looked grim, and maybe a little hopeless for the Rohirrim. "Pray tell me, if there be any battle, when should it occur?"
"The army of Uruk-Hais will reach the Hornburg late tonight."
No time. Boromir clenched his hands together and said in defeat, "What can I do, for I am but one man. Where I might be needed, I cannot reach." The man tried to control his feelings of anger and frustrations but to no avail. He felt so helpless and once again, wondered if indeed his life had been worth saving.
Gwaihir spoke, his voice filled with kindness. "I do not know what has befallen you in the past, but I can see that it has been one full of shadow."
"You know not the extent of the darkness," Boromir replied with venom.
The Windlord straightened his massive being. "Whatever it is, strange one, do not let it affect your future. You cannot rule your life by your past. Take heed of my advice. I must be off now, the skies lead me back to the Lonely Mountains where I must complete an errand."
Boromir nodded his head. "I too must go, for I have chosen my path." To his relief he saw that Maiorama had returned. He went over to her and patted her on the nose affectionately.
"The more I come to know you, the more strange you become to me. For I recognize an Elvish horse, and that one is of great breeding," Gwaihir said, his tone bewildered. "You are full of strange secrets, son of Gondor."
Boromir nodded towards the dead Wargs. "One thing I do not understand, how did it come to be about that these Wargs came here?"
"Saruman sent many of his Warg riders to destroy Eomer and his band of warriors. Eomer, sister-son to the King of Rohan had been banished from his land and so led some the bravest of his men to go with him. Fortunately, Eomer is a valiant warrior and killed many before the riders gave up. I believe these are rogue Wargs, now riderless and were wandering the land. They will wander no longer, and destroy no longer." The great Eagle looked up towards the sky then faced the other for the last time. "I must say this encounter, though of pure coincidence, was destined to be. I hope that I was able to help you in what small ways I could."
Bowing humbly, Boromir said, "I can never repay you. I hope we meet again, Windlord of the skies."
"We will meet again, whether during this War or after I cannot tell. Till then!" Saying such, the Eagle stretched out his wings and with a mighty heave, went up into the air and even as Boromir watched, went away out of sight.
The now left alone man chuckled. Indeed it was a blessing he had met the Eagle. More than anything, he took heart with the parting words of Gwaihir. 'We will meet again, whether during this War or after I cannot tell.' Words of hope, and Boromir needed to hear them.
He drew himself up onto the back of Maiorama, eager to be off. He knew where the journey lay of ahead of him so speaking softly into the horse's ear, they set off together.
**********
Author's Note: So, did you like it? I hope so! For some reason, the words seemed to type themselves out for me so the chapter was really easy and fun to write! It's possible that this might be my favorite chapter. I hoped you like the short little Gimli/Legolas/Aragorn/Theoden banter I put in at the beginning. And I also hope you enjoy my introduction of Gwaihir!
Many thanks to:
*iwantboromir* ~ Someone who loves Sean Bean's voice! *hip hip hurray!* Accents are a hobby of mine and I absolutely love almost all European accents. Too cool! I have seen Sharpe's Rifle, the first of the series! You can tell the series were made with a small budget but Sean Bean along makes it worth the watch! He's just too handsome! *wink!* Have you seen all 15 of the Sharpe's movies? If you have, which do you recommend is the best? I don't want to buy all 15 but I do want to have the ones which are the best! Boromir meeting his father is certainly going to be a challenge to write, but I'm all up for it with all the support I'm having from such faithful reviewers! Thanks so much big time!
*~C~* ~ Hello! Welcome! Are you and Ice50 good friends? Anyway, that's funny how you wrote that you 'technically' found my story first! Hee hee! I'm glad you like it how I've kept Boromir alive. It was certainly my pleasure to keep him alive for all you Boromir fans! I plan to make the Boromir and Faramir reunion really, really good!
*BoromirDefender* ~ I agree, I'm still totally mortified that Peter Jackson TOTALLY left out Boromir's gift! That is soooo unfair! I hope you like Elanorcil in this chapter! Hee hee, it's such a cool sword, I wish I had one. So shiny, so bright..... my precious.... *wink!* just kidding!
*Melodist* ~ Ha ha, that is strange that you just recently watched Goldeneye! It's totally one of my favorite James Bond movies because... Sean Bean's in it of course! He is just too too tooooo cool, maybe even a wee bit cooler than Pierce Brosnan. Haven't seen Lady Chatterley, pretty good? Sounds like you enjoyed it! *wink!*
*Ice50* ~ Boromir is certainly not a jerk! He's only human for being tempted by the Ring. But in the end he DID break free from its temptation, isn't that something? Well, it does to me! And don't worry, I'm saving Eowyn for Faramir, it wouldn't be right if Faramir didn't get her. But also don't worry, Boromir will get someone really cool! (Hopefully she won't turn out into a common Mary-Sue...)
*you-know-who* ~ Well, Boromir gets to 'swing' his sword in this chapter! I hope you like it. And this chapter is VERY long!
*Aelimir* ~ Thanks so much for pointing out the 'Amon Sul' mistake! *bangs head on keyboard* I fixed it up right away! Thanks again! Well, I can't say whether he's going to save Haldir (whether Haldir lives is still a mystery.... hee hee!) but Boromir has his own road to travel. Don't worry! I NEVER plan on having Boromir doing something mean or stupid!!! Heaven forbid!!!!!!!! He's just too..... great! The word that fits Boromir perfectly is 'kakkoi', which in Japanese translated means both the words 'handsome and cool'. Boromir is definitely KAKKOI!!!!
*Diadora* ~ Thanks for your e-mails! Once again, I apologize for not putting a reply for you! From now on, whether you write a review or not, I'll write a personal note to you! Anyway, I'm pleased that you like my characters! Galadriel/Celeborn scenes are pretty fun I must agree! I'm planning to write a few more of them in future chapters. I'm glad you're liking the story so far!
*Melian the Maia* ~ Hello! I'm just sooo happy you liked the romance between Haldir and Isilme. I was hoping that everyone would like it. I was a 'tiny' bit afraid it wouldn't come out right but so far, no one has complained. *glances around with frightened look* LOL! I'll work on capitalizing the E for Elves as soon as possible!
*Anne-Marie* ~ Well, I DO know Haldir isn't supposed to die... but I still like keeping you guys in suspense! ^_^ But Helm's Deep is coming up soon, so I guess you'll find out what's going to happen! Thanks for all the high praise, hope you enjoy this chappie!
*Spry Sprite* ~ Yay, you liked my short Galadriel/Celeborn scene! Well, if it's any consolation, I think ALL authors are just a mite messed up in the head... myself included! Hee hee! Anyway, please update your fic! Can't wait to read more! Preferably put lots of Boromir/Harper! *wink*!
By Priscilla Stafford
Author's Note: I hope all my reviewers are pleased to hear that this is the LONGEST chapter I've written so far! I hope you really enjoy it since Boromir has an adventure! Enjoy!
Special thanks to everyone at the bottom of the chapter.
Oh, one more thing! In the previous chapter, for a stupid reason I really can't remember, I typed 'Amon Sul' instead of 'Amon Hen'. The mistake has been fixed thanks to Aelimir who informed me of it! Thanks so much!
Chapter Eleven: Unexpected Meetings
Though it was still in the middle of the afternoon, dark clouds hung heavy in the air. Aragorn's mood felt as dark as the clouds for the nearer they got towards Helm's Deep, a foreboding sense of danger kept nagging in his mind.
Aragorn was now riding just behind King Theoden while Legolas and Gimli rode by his side. He stole a quick glance towards the Elf and saw that Legolas too seemed agitated for he rode his horse with his back ramrod straight.
On the other hand, Gimli of course did not hide his agitation. Instead he was openly grumbling now. Even now he was complaining, "I have said it before..."
"And we will probably hear it many times more," Legolas said with a sigh.
Gimli glared into the back of the Elf's head but finished his sentence. "I do not like the look of those clouds, nor do I like the idea of going to Helm's Deep."
King Theoden at that moment joined in irritably. "Well Master Dwarf, if you are afraid of battle, you may leave on your own free will. Nothing is stopping you."
Aragorn rolled his eyes up as he sidled up towards his two companion's horses. "Gimli, I suggest you remember your manners. It does not do to make a king upset."
The Dwarf seemed not to listen though as he was still shocked by what Theoden had said. "Me, afraid? It seems the King of Rohan does not know too many Dwarves. Afraid, ha! Dwarves are one of the bravest of all, for we..."
The Ranger stopped listening as he saw a figure on horseback approaching the Rohirrim. Without thought, Aragorn casually laid his hand on the handle of Andurin. Trouble it may not be, but Aragorn was a cautious man.
Theoden too seemed to have seen the approaching horseman and signaled for them to halt to await the stranger.
The man came, a weary man with his helmet dinted and his shield cracked. After coming down from his horse he stood there a while gasping for breath. Finally, he looked up to really look into the eyes of Theoden. Suddenly, his whole demeanor changed and his eyes widened in joy and wonder. Hastily he went down on one knee. "My lord, King Theoden! Pardon my manners, I did not recognize..."
"You thought I remained in Meduseld bent like an old tree under winter snow," Theoden said, but his tone was not one filled with anger. "So I was when you rode to war. But a west wind has shaken the boughs. Tell me, what news do you bring?"
"My lord, it is even now too late for Rohan. We were driven back yesterday over the Isen with great loss, many perished at the crossing. Then at night, fresh forces came over the river against our camp. All Isengard must be emptied and Saruman has loosed them all upon us. We were overmastered and the shield-wall was broken. Erkenbrand of Westfold has drawn off those men he could gather towards the fastness in Helm's Deep. The rest are scattered."
Aragorn watched as a change came over Theoden. The King was now grim and stern faced, for the news had angered him. He sat silent then spoke. "The last host of the Eorlingas has ridden forth. It will not return without battle." Theoden turned to face his men, but mostly looked into the eyes of Aragorn. "Give this man a fresh horse, we ride to the help of Erkenbrand!"
The man from Erkenbrand suddenly stood up to go into the line of sight of the king. "King Theoden, it will be all in vain for I have not told you all. Saruman not only sent all of his armies, he sent ahead his Warg riders. They overtook us in the morning and many of us were lost though we triumphed. Even with our forces combined, it will not be enough to defeat the armies of Isengard. So it is that Erkenbrand told me to inform you that he will be making his way towards Helm's Deep where together we might hold off our foes."
Theoden slightly relaxed in his saddle. "Erkenbrand is wise and we will listen to his counsel. We ride for Helm's Deep!"
'And to whatever awaits us there,' thought Aragorn. He was angered with the cruelty of Saruman, for the Warg riders were vicious warriors. And though the orcs may be killed, the Wargs itself were hard and ferocious beasts to kill. He spurred his horse along to match pace with the King who rode in front; for wherever the rode lay, he would fight for the land of Rohan, for brave men resided in these lands. He would do all he can to raise up these courageous men.
**********
Haldir had been right in saying that Maiorama was a horse with a speed all her own. Boromir was also thankful that the horse had an easy gate for the pain in his side and shoulder did not hurt him as much as he thought it would.
It was now late in the afternoon and he had made wonderful time. The Limlight he had crossed long before and even now, he guessed that Fangorn Forests had been passed by on the west. He doubted he could reach the Entwash that day but hoped to cross it before it grew dark the next day.
He slowed his horse to a slow trot for the area was hilly and the ground was covered with rocks.
Boromir got lost in his thoughts as he continued journeying south. What worried him was whether his decision had been the right one. One thing he knew, he was correct in not trying to find Frodo. Shamefully he admitted that the closer they went into Mordor, it was most probable that the call of the Ring would become too strong. He had already fallen once and resisted, who knew if he would be able to resist it again.
But what of the rest of the Fellowship? Could he abandon them? Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli he knew were in Rohan, fighting off Saruman's armies. And Haldir was also there. Why didn't Boromir go to aide them?
And he knew deep in his heart why he did not go towards Rohan. It was the shame deep down, hidden in his heart. Galadriel still believed in him, she had told him herself. But what right had he to have her trust in him? So wise, so beautiful, it was still possible that the Elf Lady was wrong to believe in him.
With all his heart, Boromir did not want to disappoint the fair Elf. He was determined to prove her wrong, he would use his second chance in life to protect and fight for Middle Earth.
Still, he doubted if he could face the rest of the Fellowship, most especially Aragorn. What did the heir of Isildur think of him he wondered? Was Aragorn disappointed? Or had he secretly all along distrusted Boromir, knowing he would fail? The questions swirled around in Boromir's head, yet no answers presented themselves to him.
So, to Minas Tirith he would go. There his father waited for him, as did his brother. Boromir wondered what they were doing, thinking at that moment. Did they worry about him? Boromir knew that Faramir would indeed miss him for even now, he missed his younger brother terribly. His little brother who he promised to protect ever since their mother died. Boromir wondered if Faramir believed he had abandoned him. Nine months it had already been since he had left Minas Tirith for Rivendell. A long time that was.
How did his father fare now? Denethor had always trusted many matters of Gondor in his oldest son. Without Boromir, Denethor would have to rely on Faramir.
At the thought, Boromir flinched. It was clear to everyone that the Steward of Gondor often found favor in his eldest son while found little favor in the younger son. For years Boromir had tried to understand his father in this matter. But even now, he always became perplexed over the situation. He would often see his younger brother ignored, sometimes even scorned, by their father. On numerous occasions, Boromir had questioned and even argued with Denethor about his treatment of Faramir. Yet always, the Steward would rarely give an honest answer. Boromir had always been stubborn, but no one he knew was more stubborn than his father.
Boromir shook himself out of his reverie as he realized that Maiorama had suddenly stopped. The horse shifted her feet nervously and as Boromir leaned over to soothingly rub her neck, he saw the horse was flaring her nostrils. She was clearly disturbed yet Boromir knew not why.
Throughout the whole journey, Maiorama had been a calm horse. Why was she now acting so strange? Boromir's eyes scanned the area to see if he could spot anything.
They were now in a small clearing surrounded by large rocks which blocked Boromir's view of the horizon. He decided to move on for nothing appeared out of the ordinary. So gently he urged the nervous horse to a canter. Maybe the distance from this certain place would help calm Maiorama down.
Boromir's choice to move may have just saved his life.
Out of the corner of his eye, Boromir saw a large creature hurl itself towards him. Instead of catching Boromir right on the head if he had been staying still, the creature only bumped into the man's shoulder.
If it had been any other day, Boromir would have stayed in the saddle. Unfortunately, the shoulder was the same shoulder which he had received an arrow wound. Boromir gasped in pain and fell off the horse with the force of the blow.
Being the warrior he was, Boromir did not land heavily yet hitting the ground jarred his teeth painful. His instincts screamed for him to get up though, for the danger had not passed. He swiftly got up and faced whatever had taken him down.
Boromir's eyes widened as he recognized the large beast. A Warg it was indeed, a large and ferocious one to be exact. The giant wolf-beast had coarse brown fur and to Boromir's keen eyes the fur looked wet. At the moment, the Warg was crouched down low, a deep growl emitting from his throat.
Knowing the Warg would spring at him at any moment, Boromir wasted no time in unsheathing his sword. Instead, he too crouched low, reading to spring out of the way. He knew, once he was pinned down by such a large beast, he would never get up again.
With the speed usually not associated with such a lumbering animal, the Warg sprung towards Boromir. He had no time to think, Boromir jumped to safer ground, twisting his body so as to make himself a narrower target.
The trick seemed to work as the Warg again flew right past. Even before Boromir was fully standing up, he drew his sword.
For one magical moment, the clouds seemed to part and a ray of light shone upon the blade. Or was it that the blade came alight with its own power? Boromir did not know. Whatever it was, whether it could be explained or not, Elanorcil now shone with a brilliant flash with the colors of the sun at its highest peak in the sky.
The sight took Boromir's breath away as he stared transfixed at his sword. His hand shaking, he reached out to run his fingers along the blade. What magic had Galadriel put into his sword?
Fortunately, during the whole time, the Warg too seemed frightened of the strange sight. Boromir took the chance to take a firm grip on his sword and ran towards to the dumbstruck beast.
Boromir knew that an archer at a distance was a dangerous enemy. Yet he also knew, the closer he got to the archer, the less time the enemy had time to prepare his arrow. In the same way, the Warg had great leaping abilities and could pin its target in the blink of an eye. But clumsy it was in close quarters, and Boromir used that to his advantage.
As soon as he was close enough to strike the beast, Boromir swung his sword with blinding speed.
The Warg had by then regained thought and saw what Boromir would do. The beast barely sidestepped the blow and though Boromir intended to slice the neck he only sliced its shoulder.
Growling in frustration, the Warg swung a mighty paw in Boromir's direction, claws fully extended. The man of Gondor turned his body and avoided getting clawed, but just barely. As he turned, Boromir extended his sword arm hoping to hit the beast.
Luckily, the sword caught the side of the Warg's face. The beast yelped in anger and stepped back, preparing to pounce.
An idea flashed through Boromir's mind so quickly he barely had time to react. He had noticed that his foe had a saddle on its back. The able captain and warrior he was, an attack strategy formed in his mind.
The beast leaped. This time, Boromir did not get completely out of the way. Instead in leaned far enough towards his right to avoid the animal, but close enough to grab the saddle.
His shoulder screamed in protest as Boromir flung himself up into the saddle. But Boromir only gritted his teeth and pushed the pain away. But jus as he sat in the seat, the Warg finished its leap and landed on the ground with a bone jarring thud.
Struggling to keep from falling from the now bucking beast, Boromir raised his sword to strike. And strike he did.
With all of his strength, Boromir plunged the sword into the neck of the Warg. The blade was sharp and went deep. Boromir was thrown off the saddle and was fortunately able to take Elanorcil with him.
He rolled away, far enough not to be crushed by the Warg which was now thrashing around, choking from the wound. Boromir got up and held his sword in a defensive position, ready for anything.
Finally, the Warg stopped its frantic moving around. It lay deathly still and Boromir cautiously approached the animal. Kicking it with his foot, the man saw that it was indeed dead.
Boromir dropped down to his knees and tried to still his beating heart. He counted himself lucky that he was still alive. Skilled with a sword he may be, but Wargs were still a dangerous foe.
Suddenly, Boromir heard a ferocious growl behind him. He turned around and saw another Warg running towards him. As if in slow motion, the beast lunged for the unprotected man. Caught unawares, Boromir could only stare, knowing this was the end.
But, to Boromir's utter surprise, he wasn't knocked over. Instead, a huge winged creature plummeted down from the sky and grabbed the Warg in midday. The Warg was thrown senseless against a huge rock. The animal went still and Boromir looked in relief to his rescuer.
His eyes widened as he recognized his hero to be an Eagle. The Eagle was majestic and huge, his wingspan tip to tip could easily be longer than eight meters. Right now, the Eagle was watching him closely, eyes unblinking as if he was memorizing every detail of Boromir's person.
The man of Gondor was about to speak but was distracted as the Warg which had been thrown against the rock was now getting up on its feet. With a howl, the beast leaped with tremendous strength straight towards the Eagle.
Boromir reacted without thinking. He lightly tossed his sword up so he could change his grip on the handle. As soon as his hand grasped the handle comfortably, with blinding speed and strength he threw the sword directly into the Warg's chest. The Warg was dead even before it hit the rocks below.
Calmly getting up on his feet, Boromir bowed to the Eagle. "I thank you. I am indebted to you."
The Eagle ruffled his feathers what Boromir thought might be a shrug. "We shall call it even, for in the end it was you who killed the fell beast. Tell me, what is a warrior like you traveling alone in this part of Middle Earth?"
Knowing not how to answer, Boromir only said, "I am a warrior, on my way to the city of Minas Tirith."
Coming uncomfortably close because of its great height, the Eagle towered over Boromir then leaned down to peer into the man's face. "Not of the Rohirrim, yet you are traveling in these parts. You have the looks of a man of Gondor, yet you are cloaked with an Elvish cloak. You fight like a great warrior, yet you are traveling alone and not with any army though I would expect you to lead, not follow."
Boromir held back for a few moments, surprised that the Eagle had noticed so much. He then decided to trust the Eagle. He knew that Gandalf had a great respect for the Eagles, and though it was Boromir's first encounter with an Eagle, he found the winged creature noble and majestic. Boromir held his chin up with a sense of dignity and pride. "I am Boromir, Captain of Gondor. My father is Denethor, Steward of Gondor."
The Eagle made a gurgling noise. Boromir realized that the great bird was laughing. "I had not expected you to give me your name, for from what I know, the race of men have always been a mistrusting and doubtful people. But I believe you have given me your true name. We Eagles have always admired truth and honesty. Since you have trusted me with your name, I freely give you mine. I am Gwaihir the Windlord."
The name was familiar and Boromir bowed once more. "An honor to meet you, Lord of all Eagles."
"And an honor to meet you also, Lord Boromir."
Boromir walked over to the dead body to retrieve his sword. He pulled the blade free and began wiping the blood off. Soon the sword was giving off a dull yellow glow, all the blood wiped away.
Gwaihir kept his sharp eyes on the sword the whole while. Finally he spoke. "In all actuality, it is the sword which drew my attention towards you. A beautiful Elvish sword that is, magic is clearly forged into its metal."
Uncomfortable with the way Gwaihir stared intently at the sword, he returned it to its scabbard. "It was a gift, from the Lady of Lothlorien."
There it was, that gurgling sound again. "You never cease to amaze me, strange one."
Thinking that a change of subject was in order, Boromir asked something of the Windlord. "Gwaihir, Windlord of the skies, what news of Middle Earth do you have?"
The Windlord shook his head solemnly. "Evil tidings indeed, evil tidings. Isengard has been emptied and even now Saruman's armies are pouring into Rohan like a raging disease. They wiped out many of Erkenbrand's men who were protecting the Western front. The rest are scattered after the Warg riders were sent to attack them."
"What of King Theoden?"
"Leading his hosts to Helm's Deep he is. He is hoping to defend the keep against Saruman's armies."
'Where was Haldir?' wondered Boromir. "Have you seen any Elves at all, Lord Gwaihir?"
The Eagle cocked his head, narrowing his eyes. "It is strange that you mention Elves, for it is true, a host of Elves are heading towards Helm's Deep. Of this how did you know."
Boromir only said, "It does not really matter. One thing I must ask, and forgive me if I am so inquisitive for much I need to know. It would please me much if you could give me the truth. Will the Rohirrim survive the onslaught of Saruman's forces?"
Gwaihir eyes seemed to soften. "Tens of thousands against hundreds? Who knows honestly what the outcome will be. The Hornburg has never been breached, but has it ever withstood an army of tens of thousands?" The Eagle gave him a sympathetic look. "Nay, son of Gondor. You already know what my heart says for in your heart, you also know the same thing."
The man of Gondor looked down, his heart heavy with sadness. The situation looked grim, and maybe a little hopeless for the Rohirrim. "Pray tell me, if there be any battle, when should it occur?"
"The army of Uruk-Hais will reach the Hornburg late tonight."
No time. Boromir clenched his hands together and said in defeat, "What can I do, for I am but one man. Where I might be needed, I cannot reach." The man tried to control his feelings of anger and frustrations but to no avail. He felt so helpless and once again, wondered if indeed his life had been worth saving.
Gwaihir spoke, his voice filled with kindness. "I do not know what has befallen you in the past, but I can see that it has been one full of shadow."
"You know not the extent of the darkness," Boromir replied with venom.
The Windlord straightened his massive being. "Whatever it is, strange one, do not let it affect your future. You cannot rule your life by your past. Take heed of my advice. I must be off now, the skies lead me back to the Lonely Mountains where I must complete an errand."
Boromir nodded his head. "I too must go, for I have chosen my path." To his relief he saw that Maiorama had returned. He went over to her and patted her on the nose affectionately.
"The more I come to know you, the more strange you become to me. For I recognize an Elvish horse, and that one is of great breeding," Gwaihir said, his tone bewildered. "You are full of strange secrets, son of Gondor."
Boromir nodded towards the dead Wargs. "One thing I do not understand, how did it come to be about that these Wargs came here?"
"Saruman sent many of his Warg riders to destroy Eomer and his band of warriors. Eomer, sister-son to the King of Rohan had been banished from his land and so led some the bravest of his men to go with him. Fortunately, Eomer is a valiant warrior and killed many before the riders gave up. I believe these are rogue Wargs, now riderless and were wandering the land. They will wander no longer, and destroy no longer." The great Eagle looked up towards the sky then faced the other for the last time. "I must say this encounter, though of pure coincidence, was destined to be. I hope that I was able to help you in what small ways I could."
Bowing humbly, Boromir said, "I can never repay you. I hope we meet again, Windlord of the skies."
"We will meet again, whether during this War or after I cannot tell. Till then!" Saying such, the Eagle stretched out his wings and with a mighty heave, went up into the air and even as Boromir watched, went away out of sight.
The now left alone man chuckled. Indeed it was a blessing he had met the Eagle. More than anything, he took heart with the parting words of Gwaihir. 'We will meet again, whether during this War or after I cannot tell.' Words of hope, and Boromir needed to hear them.
He drew himself up onto the back of Maiorama, eager to be off. He knew where the journey lay of ahead of him so speaking softly into the horse's ear, they set off together.
**********
Author's Note: So, did you like it? I hope so! For some reason, the words seemed to type themselves out for me so the chapter was really easy and fun to write! It's possible that this might be my favorite chapter. I hoped you like the short little Gimli/Legolas/Aragorn/Theoden banter I put in at the beginning. And I also hope you enjoy my introduction of Gwaihir!
Many thanks to:
*iwantboromir* ~ Someone who loves Sean Bean's voice! *hip hip hurray!* Accents are a hobby of mine and I absolutely love almost all European accents. Too cool! I have seen Sharpe's Rifle, the first of the series! You can tell the series were made with a small budget but Sean Bean along makes it worth the watch! He's just too handsome! *wink!* Have you seen all 15 of the Sharpe's movies? If you have, which do you recommend is the best? I don't want to buy all 15 but I do want to have the ones which are the best! Boromir meeting his father is certainly going to be a challenge to write, but I'm all up for it with all the support I'm having from such faithful reviewers! Thanks so much big time!
*~C~* ~ Hello! Welcome! Are you and Ice50 good friends? Anyway, that's funny how you wrote that you 'technically' found my story first! Hee hee! I'm glad you like it how I've kept Boromir alive. It was certainly my pleasure to keep him alive for all you Boromir fans! I plan to make the Boromir and Faramir reunion really, really good!
*BoromirDefender* ~ I agree, I'm still totally mortified that Peter Jackson TOTALLY left out Boromir's gift! That is soooo unfair! I hope you like Elanorcil in this chapter! Hee hee, it's such a cool sword, I wish I had one. So shiny, so bright..... my precious.... *wink!* just kidding!
*Melodist* ~ Ha ha, that is strange that you just recently watched Goldeneye! It's totally one of my favorite James Bond movies because... Sean Bean's in it of course! He is just too too tooooo cool, maybe even a wee bit cooler than Pierce Brosnan. Haven't seen Lady Chatterley, pretty good? Sounds like you enjoyed it! *wink!*
*Ice50* ~ Boromir is certainly not a jerk! He's only human for being tempted by the Ring. But in the end he DID break free from its temptation, isn't that something? Well, it does to me! And don't worry, I'm saving Eowyn for Faramir, it wouldn't be right if Faramir didn't get her. But also don't worry, Boromir will get someone really cool! (Hopefully she won't turn out into a common Mary-Sue...)
*you-know-who* ~ Well, Boromir gets to 'swing' his sword in this chapter! I hope you like it. And this chapter is VERY long!
*Aelimir* ~ Thanks so much for pointing out the 'Amon Sul' mistake! *bangs head on keyboard* I fixed it up right away! Thanks again! Well, I can't say whether he's going to save Haldir (whether Haldir lives is still a mystery.... hee hee!) but Boromir has his own road to travel. Don't worry! I NEVER plan on having Boromir doing something mean or stupid!!! Heaven forbid!!!!!!!! He's just too..... great! The word that fits Boromir perfectly is 'kakkoi', which in Japanese translated means both the words 'handsome and cool'. Boromir is definitely KAKKOI!!!!
*Diadora* ~ Thanks for your e-mails! Once again, I apologize for not putting a reply for you! From now on, whether you write a review or not, I'll write a personal note to you! Anyway, I'm pleased that you like my characters! Galadriel/Celeborn scenes are pretty fun I must agree! I'm planning to write a few more of them in future chapters. I'm glad you're liking the story so far!
*Melian the Maia* ~ Hello! I'm just sooo happy you liked the romance between Haldir and Isilme. I was hoping that everyone would like it. I was a 'tiny' bit afraid it wouldn't come out right but so far, no one has complained. *glances around with frightened look* LOL! I'll work on capitalizing the E for Elves as soon as possible!
*Anne-Marie* ~ Well, I DO know Haldir isn't supposed to die... but I still like keeping you guys in suspense! ^_^ But Helm's Deep is coming up soon, so I guess you'll find out what's going to happen! Thanks for all the high praise, hope you enjoy this chappie!
*Spry Sprite* ~ Yay, you liked my short Galadriel/Celeborn scene! Well, if it's any consolation, I think ALL authors are just a mite messed up in the head... myself included! Hee hee! Anyway, please update your fic! Can't wait to read more! Preferably put lots of Boromir/Harper! *wink*!