Boromir, Thou Shall Live
By Priscilla Stafford
Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to update! A whole week! So sorry!
Well, I got my Extended Edition DVD and it was FANTASTIC! It was sooo cool and I loved all the special features, too! The stories the guys from the movie told were so funny, my friend Maria and I were laughing so much!
Ahem, anyway, here's chapter twenty-one! I know that in the previous chapter, I said that this would have a Boromir/Gandalf scene, but unfortunately it didn't work out that way. So, in the NEXT chapter there should be that scene. For those who had been waiting expectantly for the scene, I apologize profusely! I hope you like this chapter!
Chapter Twenty-One: Wearied Spirits
Isilme moved her gaze at all the wounded around her. Fortunately, most of the injuries she treated were minor and not life threatening, and for that she was thankful. It was not very often she would deal with humans, living a very sheltered life inside Lothlorien. The Rohirrim fascinated her, for different they were to the way she had visualized them to be. All her life she had lived with the Elves of Lothlorien. Just as the Elves, the men of Rohan were stalwart and brave, hardly ever did they cry out it pain or grimace at the extent of their injuries.
Instead, on each and every one of their faces was an expression of pure joy and relief. It was not the look of fear or dismay she had seen when she had first arrived. More specifically, there was a sense of hope and peace that eased each of their hearts.
Everywhere she looked, despite their injuries the men and young lads were clapping each other on the back, glad to see the other alive. Glad to know that they themselves were alive.
But she knew that these caves were only a respite from the death from the night before. Outside she knew that those who were not injured were gathering the dead bodies for burial.
Her heart clenched as she knew what Haldir must be going through right now. As the Captain of the Elves of Lothlorien, overseeing the burial of his archers would be an especially hard task for him.
On one hand, Isilme pondered whether it was right for them to be leaving Helm's Deep that evening. These people seemed to look up to the Eldar with a childlike trust, and Isilme did not want to do anything to take away even the slimmest of hopes. Her healer skills could also come as a good use, and already she felt her heart reach out to them.
But on the other hand, though she knew the night had been a victory, Haldir would be bearing both physical and mental wounds from the ordeal. Going back to their home might help in easing his heart from the burden of the dead. He would need her now especially, more than ever.
She stood up from examining a young man's arm. Laying a gentle hand on his shoulder, she said with a smile, "Don't be using this arm too soon, let it heal."
The man stood up careful not to jostle the wounded arm. "I thank you for looking at it. I swear it's already feeling better. Surely you are an angel of mercy, milady."
"Anyone would have done the same," Isilme replied kindly to the compliment. The man left after saying more thanks and the Elf-maiden found that finally there was a lull in the activity. Most everyone had been taken care of and for that she was glad. She would have some time for herself.
A pair of strong arms suddenly came around her waist from behind. Isilme stiffened and was about to struggle when she heard a familiar voice in her ear. "That man was right, you are most probably an angel of mercy."
She turned around in the circle of arms around her waist to come face to face with Boromir. Before she could speak, he was first to open his mouth, "The name is Lavlaisi. Good to see you again."
Isilme pushed any confusion aside in the joy of seeing him in front of her. Without any hesitation she returned the fierce hug from the Gondorian man. "I never expected to see you here, friend."
"It was as much of a surprise for me to see you here, too."
They pulled back and Isilme took her first good look at him. He appeared more gaunt than the last time she had left him, which came to no surprise. There had been a reason behind trying to keep him in Lorien as long as possible, his wounds had been of a serious kind. And for him to be here now, he must have hardly stopped in his journey.
Boromir smiled, distracting her from her thoughts. "I recognize that furrow between your eyebrows now. Am I in trouble?"
Isilme only cocked her head slightly. "Lavlaisi?"
He lowered his voice to whisper, "I have my reasons." He suddenly turned around to gesture to a man standing quietly behind them. "This is Bawuer, and he is in need of your talents."
The man, obviously of the Rohirrim, bowed slightly. "Please, I would hate to interrupt any reunion."
"A pleasure to meet you," Isilme said and moved away from Boromir to stand before Bawuer. The man gave a rakish smile as he took her hand to place a soft kiss.
"No, the pleasure is all mine." He winked at her. "May I have the pleasure of seeing you again? I'm sure you and... Lavlaisi," Bawuer looked at Boromir pointedly, "have much to talk about."
As Bawuer left, Isilme turned to look at Boromir with raised eyebrows. "I... assume he knows?"
"You assume correctly. It seems he's seen me before."
Isilme watched Boromir with a practiced eye as he sat down on a lone barrel. No, he did not move as stiffly as she thought he would. He seemed to have regained most of his warrior gracefulness. Yet, there was something amiss.
Boromir neither moved nor acted uncomfortable as Isilme stood before him, leaning down so that she was looking straight into his eyes. After many long moments, the Elf-maiden could pinpoint what the matter was. "You need to rest. How long have you been traveling? I expect you haven't rested once since leaving Lorien. Your wounds need to heal."
The man's gaze hardened. "I feel incredibly fine, Isilme. You can examine me as you please, my wounds are completely cured."
Isilme knew that it was so. "Which wounds? If you mean your side and shoulder, I must agree you appear fine. But I am talking about your heart," she rested a hand on where his heart was, "and your mind." She brought her hand up to then put on his forehead.
She saw a flicker of pain, loneliness, and sadness in Boromir's eyes before he lowered them to stare at the ground.
Isilme sighed. Yes, this was the kind of healing which was the most hard to do. She knelt down in front of him but kept her eyes averted to give him some space. "What were you thinking of doing?"
"I need to find... the others."
The Elf-maiden nodded. "That may be so, but you need rest before you do just that."
"I am in no need of..."
Isilme didn't let him finish as interrupted and said, "Look me in the eye and say it."
She couldn't help but smile kindly as Boromir fidgeted uncomfortably. Mortals were just like children in some ways. The idea amused her as she took hold of his arm to get him to stand up. "I am a healer, it is one of my tasks to know if a patient is in need of rest. Follow me, I know of an empty cot."
Fortunately, he did not argue as she took him to a quiet corner away from the all the activity. He still remained quiet as she helped him remove his outer cloak. Through all of the silence, Isilme was lost in her thoughts, all of which were about Boromir. In Lothlorien she had sensed that he carried a burden on his heart. But now, it seemed as if the burden had doubled in size and weight.
His physical body may not have been tired, but she sensed a great weariness in his spirit. If only there was something she could really do. But she knew it was not so, it was something he had to work out himself.
Finally, Boromir was lying comfortably on the cot. As Isilme started folding his cloak up, he stopped her. "Please leave the cloak."
For a moment, Isilme paused then handed the cloak. She found it interesting how the temperature and weather affected mortals more than the Elves.
As Boromir was settling the covering over his body, Isilme knelt just beside the cot. "Sleep well," she whispered.
He turned to face her. In much seriousness he only said, "It does my heart good to see your here, Isilme."
Isilme couldn't help but reach out a hand to softly stroke his head. "Rest, dear friend. Your heart needs it." She was surprised as he suddenly took her other hand, and stared intently at the ring Haldir had given her. The expression on his face was one of curiousness and Isilme felt herself blush against her will.
Boromir's face suddenly brightened and his smile was that of a man who had cast aside all of his worries. He looked up at Isilme slyly. "My, Elves do work fast. So, Haldir already proposed."
"He hasn't said anything, he just gave me the ring as a keepsake," Isilme said, trying to keep her embarrassment from coming out in her voice.
The man looked at her skeptically. "Is that so?" Once again he looked at the ring. "'Tis a beautiful ring, Isilme. Almost as beautiful as the love he has for you. If I were you, I wouldn't give him an opportunity to get away."
"I never had any intention of letting him go." Isilme tried to put on a stern face as she remembered how exactly Haldir had spoken to her in Lorien of his love. "If my memory serves me correctly, it was you who had him approach me in the first place."
Boromir shrugged innocently. "I didn't tell him to do anything. I just gave a subtle hint."
"And a friendly push if I should venture to guess." Isilme could not stop her lips from curving upwards in a gentle smile. She leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. "I thank you for everything. Now rest, I promise to wake you before too much time has passed."
He gave her hand a squeeze. "I thank you, too."
Isilme stood up and left the warrior to give him some sorely needed peace and quiet. Without any surprise she saw that Bawuer was waiting a short distance away. She had heard someone come a while back and had presumed it to be the Rohirrim soldier.
How much had he overheard? He had an expression on his face that Isilme could not really decipher. This was not the playful man she had first seen, there was a serious and very thoughtful side to his character she hadn't known. For some reason, knowing that this man was not all that he seemed, she felt a little uncomfortable.
She motioned for him to follow her towards some empty seats. She bade him sit down. "Let me look at your leg."
"Thank you for taking the time," he said as he took off his bloodied boot then rolled up the legging to show the wounded leg. Isilme did not answer as she concentrated on cleaning the flesh with a wet cloth she had taken from a lone water bucket nearby.
"When did you get this arrow wound?"
"At the wall," was his curt reply.
"And I presume you took the arrow out yourself. And have been walking around the whole time since."
He shrugged. "This is not the first time I have taken an arrow. Besides, it did not hurt much."
Isilme looked up sharply then returned to her work. 'It did not hurt much?' The wound was deep, there was no way it did not hurt. Stubborn men...
No more words were spoken as she cleaned and bandaged the deep laceration. Through the whole time, Isilme's thoughts were filled with Boromir. What had caused him to become so troubled at mind? And what was he doing here; she had thought that at the first opportunity, he would seek the road towards his home in Minas Tirith.
Finally, the task was complete. Bawuer experimentally moved his ankle carefully. "A job well done, fair Elf-maiden."
As he cautiously put his boot back on, Isilme washed her hands of the blood. "How long have you known our mutual companion?" Bawuer asked.
"Long enough to know that he is a fine man." Isilme turned to face the other. "And you?"
"Only this morning. And he is a fine man." He smiled another of his charming smiles. "And what say you about me?"
Better to tell the truth. Isilme's eyes never left his. "I believe that you are more wise than you seem, Bawuer. There is a warrior's side to you aside from your lightheartedness." She tilted her head as another thought occurred to her. "Or maybe your lightheartedness is a façade to hide something else."
Bawuer's face had gotten serious as she spoke her words, and Isilme was afraid for a moment that she had said too much. But her fears were put to rest with his next words. "You are a remarkable lady, Isilme." He got up and tested his leg by leaning his weight upon it. Satisfied that he could walk, he bowed to Isilme. "I shall be off now, for I must report to my captain."
He turned to leave then stopped. "Oh, yes. The Elf, I believe his name was Haldir, said to tell you that your people will be leave by nightfall."
Isilme wondered why Haldir had Bawuer tell her that. Hadn't they already established when they would leave? But no matter. "Thank you."
This time it was Isilme who stopped Bawuer by saying, "Bawuer, I noticed you have your cloak off."
"Yes, it is a bit warm."
The Elf-maiden turned to look in the direction where Boromir lay covered in his black cloak. For some long moments, she just stared at the sleeping form as sadness for her friend enveloped her.
Without fully understanding why, she chased after Bawuer. She took him by the arm and spoke. "Bawuer, promise me this. Promise to watch over Boromir. Promise to take care of him. And more than anything, promise to be his friend." Realizing how hard she was squeezing the other's arm, she let go but continued holding his gaze. "Promise me. Please."
Bawuer took her hands and nodded. "I promise."
With his words, Isilme felt a calmness and peace envelop her soul.
**********
Frustrated, Faramir had to force himself not to crumple the letter in his hand. How could his father do this to him, do this to his men?
Only a week ago it had been since he had written to Denethor, asking for new supplies. But more importantly, he had asked for reinforcements. More than half of the men in Ithilien had been staying there for five months straight. The reinforcements would allow some of them to return home for a short while. Even a few days rest would do a world of good for them, it would boost their morale. Remind them why and for what they were fighting for.
Then the Steward's letter had come that afternoon. No more supplies, no more reinforcements. In Denethor's mind, it was more important to fortify the city of Osgiliath. So what extra reserves had been sent there, including fresh soldiers.
Faramir forced himself to calm down. It was no use dwelling on what couldn't be done. He had to have a positive outlook on things.
He snorted to himself. Positive? What was positive about the whole situation for the men in Ithilien? They were all weary to the bone, and only for their faith in their Captain they would have all deserted by now to go back to their families.
A family. The thought made Faramir pause. Did he really know the meaning? Maybe long ago, in the far, dim past when his mother had been alive. And those many years after she had died, when Boromir and he had been inseparable.
But a true family? Would he ever know its true meaning.
Faramir sat in front of his hastily set up desk and began flipping through the many reports. More Easterlings every day were heading this way. But there were not enough of his men to create a real offense. So with a renewed vigor, he began to finish making his plans to attack. He had to strategize the best way in which to attack without putting his men in to much danger.
A few minutes passed when Mablung came to stand at attention before Faramir's desk. "I need your approval for tonight's watch."
The Captain of the Ithilien Rangers took the list and glanced through it quickly. "That's fine Mablung... wait, what's this?"
He pointed to one name. "Why is Damrod taking one of the posts? He was on watch last night."
Mablung shifted his feet uncomfortably. "Well, in all actuality it was Elbaran's shift tonight."
Faramir nodded in understanding as it dawned on him. Elbaran's had just returned from scouting up north, most certainly he would be tired. He still frowned. "That is really no excuse, Damrod knows better than taking two night watches in a row."
His Lieutenant lowered his eyes. "Aye, Captain."
Faramir took a pen and scratched off Damrod's name and wrote in another. After doing thus, he gave the list back to Mablung and returned to finishing some other reports. Mablung looked at the paper and looked up, startled. "But Captain, you wrote in your name..."
"I know what I wrote Mablung. Be off with you, I know you have work to do."
"But Captain, you were up all night last night..."
"Dismissed, Mablung," Faramir cut in.
Mablung opened his mouth to speak some more then stopped. He nodded gravely and after saluting, left Faramir alone.
Faramir paused in his work to rub his eyes. In all truth, he was tired. Dead tired, and weary in spirit. Yet, he could not let it show, would not let it show. His men needed him, and in a way he need them, too. Damrod was a good man, he needed the rest.
The Captain made a promise to himself that he would rest tomorrow. But not now.
He stared at the pile of papers. He didn't have to read them to know that they all lead up to one thing. It would not be long before they would have to evacuate. Until then though, he was going to do his best to make sure he would not lost one man from his rangers.
**********
Author's Note: So, was it any good? I wanted to write a little bit about how Boromir and Faramir are feeling at this moment in the history of Middle Earth. Boromir of course is wearied in spirit because of the many questions and choices that are put to him. As for Faramir, he has the responsibility of a whole group of men, the pressure must be terrible (especially with Denethor being so hard on him).
Hopefully, the next chapter should come up pretty quickly. The awaited Boromir/Gandalf scene will be there, and I'm thinking of finally getting the whole bunch to leave Helm's Deep. They've lingered there long enough, huh? *wink*!
Special thanks to:
*Daughter of Olorin* ~ Thanks for reviewing! Wow, I know what you mean, the new scenes with Boromir in the TT:EE was fantastic! *for Gondor, for Gondor, for Gondor!* So, do you still like Bawuer? There's some more of him in this chapter, and I think I've established that he's going to remain a faithful companion to Boromir after promising to Isilme to do so. Again, thanks for reviewing!
*Diadora* ~ Hello! Hee hee! I'm glad you were pleased to see your name at the top of the previous chapter! So, does this chapter have some good Boromir angst? Maybe physically he's doing better, but Isilme knows that spiritually he's very wearied. Hopefully, some rest will help him a bit. ^_^
*Daisy Brambleburr* ~ I'm glad you like the previous chapter. Boromir angst! Hee hee! I'm starting to like Bawuer so much, he'll be a great companion for Boromir, don't you think? Boromir needs all the friends he gets...
*Boromir Defender* ~ Yeah, I really like Bawuer a lot, considering he's a dead ringer for Kiefer Sutherland! hee hee! I understand what you mean, writing about horses makes me miss everything about horses and riding. I can't wait until I can visit the states again so I can go riding! "The Sons of the Steward" IS fantastic, I've already seen it so many times! Sean Bean is certainly the best! I can't wait to see him play Odysseus in "Troy".
*The Dark Wanderer* ~ I'm glad you liked the previous chapter! Boromir is a pretty complex character and the more I write about him, the more I know I have to explain certain aspects of his character. I'm glad you find Isilme ok, how do you like her in this chapter?
*Bulegristwen* ~ Sorry, just like Boromir I keep putting off his meeting with the 'other guys' (Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli)! I really want it to come out dynamic, but I'm kinda still trying to figure out how it's going to turn. Just think of it as I'm just as confused as Boromir! hee hee! I hope you like this new chapter!
*Aelimir* ~ I'm glad you like Bawuer! He's starting to have quite a following! Maybe I'll write a scene where we finally get to go 'into his thoughts'. TT:EE is simply superb! hee hee, I think Bawuer goading Boromir into revealing himself has become one of my favorite scenes to right. I want to portray Bawuer as a sort of 'very confident, a bit lighthearted' fellow. Well, keep the 'horsemanship tips' coming! It's always such a big help!
*Sirens Muse* ~ Hello, thanks so much for reviewing! Cool, you're an author, too? I gotta check out your stories! Are they Lord of the Rings stories? *wink*! I'll definitely keep your advice, I'll keep writing!
*Sean/Boromir Fan* ~ Hiya! Thanks for always writing such... ummm... 'interesting' reviews. They always make my day (they make me laugh, too!) Makes all my writing worth it! Anyway, when are YOU gonna write you story? I wanna read so much! Pretty please?
*Spry Sprite* ~ Thanks for reviewing once again! I'm glad you're liking Bawuer and Ebon so far! I really love writing their characters! So... I need an update from "Insanity Abounds"! Keep writing!
*iwantboromir* ~ I'm glad you're liking my story! It's always a good feeling that someone loves what you write! *does a happy dance*! Sorry that I'm pushing the Boromir/Gandalf scene to the next chapter. I fully intended of putting it in this chapter... but it just didn't work out. Sorry! Hopefully it'll come out in the next chappie!
*Erindi* ~ Thanks so much for reviewing! Oooh, please tell me where you have your fiction! I wanna read! I love most any alterations of the LOTR trilogy, they're all pretty much very interesting. Thanks for pointing out the spelling mistakes. In a little while I'm going to go over my whole story, updating and 'tweaking' some of the chapters. Once again, thanks so much for reviewing!
*beats me...* ~ Glad you're liking what I've done so far!
*iron-eyes24* ~ Hello, thanks for your ALWAYS fun reviews! Hee hee! Yeah, I understood what you meant when you wrote 'review or be smote'. Ha ha! LOL! Your Goodbye Mr. Anderson was sooo funny, made me laugh and feel so good! So, you likey this new chappie?
*Alex92* ~ hee hee! I'm glad you know you're liking Bawuer! Do you like him in the chapter? I've made him promise to be a good friend to our dear Boromir. Hee hee!
By Priscilla Stafford
Author's Note: Sorry it took so long to update! A whole week! So sorry!
Well, I got my Extended Edition DVD and it was FANTASTIC! It was sooo cool and I loved all the special features, too! The stories the guys from the movie told were so funny, my friend Maria and I were laughing so much!
Ahem, anyway, here's chapter twenty-one! I know that in the previous chapter, I said that this would have a Boromir/Gandalf scene, but unfortunately it didn't work out that way. So, in the NEXT chapter there should be that scene. For those who had been waiting expectantly for the scene, I apologize profusely! I hope you like this chapter!
Chapter Twenty-One: Wearied Spirits
Isilme moved her gaze at all the wounded around her. Fortunately, most of the injuries she treated were minor and not life threatening, and for that she was thankful. It was not very often she would deal with humans, living a very sheltered life inside Lothlorien. The Rohirrim fascinated her, for different they were to the way she had visualized them to be. All her life she had lived with the Elves of Lothlorien. Just as the Elves, the men of Rohan were stalwart and brave, hardly ever did they cry out it pain or grimace at the extent of their injuries.
Instead, on each and every one of their faces was an expression of pure joy and relief. It was not the look of fear or dismay she had seen when she had first arrived. More specifically, there was a sense of hope and peace that eased each of their hearts.
Everywhere she looked, despite their injuries the men and young lads were clapping each other on the back, glad to see the other alive. Glad to know that they themselves were alive.
But she knew that these caves were only a respite from the death from the night before. Outside she knew that those who were not injured were gathering the dead bodies for burial.
Her heart clenched as she knew what Haldir must be going through right now. As the Captain of the Elves of Lothlorien, overseeing the burial of his archers would be an especially hard task for him.
On one hand, Isilme pondered whether it was right for them to be leaving Helm's Deep that evening. These people seemed to look up to the Eldar with a childlike trust, and Isilme did not want to do anything to take away even the slimmest of hopes. Her healer skills could also come as a good use, and already she felt her heart reach out to them.
But on the other hand, though she knew the night had been a victory, Haldir would be bearing both physical and mental wounds from the ordeal. Going back to their home might help in easing his heart from the burden of the dead. He would need her now especially, more than ever.
She stood up from examining a young man's arm. Laying a gentle hand on his shoulder, she said with a smile, "Don't be using this arm too soon, let it heal."
The man stood up careful not to jostle the wounded arm. "I thank you for looking at it. I swear it's already feeling better. Surely you are an angel of mercy, milady."
"Anyone would have done the same," Isilme replied kindly to the compliment. The man left after saying more thanks and the Elf-maiden found that finally there was a lull in the activity. Most everyone had been taken care of and for that she was glad. She would have some time for herself.
A pair of strong arms suddenly came around her waist from behind. Isilme stiffened and was about to struggle when she heard a familiar voice in her ear. "That man was right, you are most probably an angel of mercy."
She turned around in the circle of arms around her waist to come face to face with Boromir. Before she could speak, he was first to open his mouth, "The name is Lavlaisi. Good to see you again."
Isilme pushed any confusion aside in the joy of seeing him in front of her. Without any hesitation she returned the fierce hug from the Gondorian man. "I never expected to see you here, friend."
"It was as much of a surprise for me to see you here, too."
They pulled back and Isilme took her first good look at him. He appeared more gaunt than the last time she had left him, which came to no surprise. There had been a reason behind trying to keep him in Lorien as long as possible, his wounds had been of a serious kind. And for him to be here now, he must have hardly stopped in his journey.
Boromir smiled, distracting her from her thoughts. "I recognize that furrow between your eyebrows now. Am I in trouble?"
Isilme only cocked her head slightly. "Lavlaisi?"
He lowered his voice to whisper, "I have my reasons." He suddenly turned around to gesture to a man standing quietly behind them. "This is Bawuer, and he is in need of your talents."
The man, obviously of the Rohirrim, bowed slightly. "Please, I would hate to interrupt any reunion."
"A pleasure to meet you," Isilme said and moved away from Boromir to stand before Bawuer. The man gave a rakish smile as he took her hand to place a soft kiss.
"No, the pleasure is all mine." He winked at her. "May I have the pleasure of seeing you again? I'm sure you and... Lavlaisi," Bawuer looked at Boromir pointedly, "have much to talk about."
As Bawuer left, Isilme turned to look at Boromir with raised eyebrows. "I... assume he knows?"
"You assume correctly. It seems he's seen me before."
Isilme watched Boromir with a practiced eye as he sat down on a lone barrel. No, he did not move as stiffly as she thought he would. He seemed to have regained most of his warrior gracefulness. Yet, there was something amiss.
Boromir neither moved nor acted uncomfortable as Isilme stood before him, leaning down so that she was looking straight into his eyes. After many long moments, the Elf-maiden could pinpoint what the matter was. "You need to rest. How long have you been traveling? I expect you haven't rested once since leaving Lorien. Your wounds need to heal."
The man's gaze hardened. "I feel incredibly fine, Isilme. You can examine me as you please, my wounds are completely cured."
Isilme knew that it was so. "Which wounds? If you mean your side and shoulder, I must agree you appear fine. But I am talking about your heart," she rested a hand on where his heart was, "and your mind." She brought her hand up to then put on his forehead.
She saw a flicker of pain, loneliness, and sadness in Boromir's eyes before he lowered them to stare at the ground.
Isilme sighed. Yes, this was the kind of healing which was the most hard to do. She knelt down in front of him but kept her eyes averted to give him some space. "What were you thinking of doing?"
"I need to find... the others."
The Elf-maiden nodded. "That may be so, but you need rest before you do just that."
"I am in no need of..."
Isilme didn't let him finish as interrupted and said, "Look me in the eye and say it."
She couldn't help but smile kindly as Boromir fidgeted uncomfortably. Mortals were just like children in some ways. The idea amused her as she took hold of his arm to get him to stand up. "I am a healer, it is one of my tasks to know if a patient is in need of rest. Follow me, I know of an empty cot."
Fortunately, he did not argue as she took him to a quiet corner away from the all the activity. He still remained quiet as she helped him remove his outer cloak. Through all of the silence, Isilme was lost in her thoughts, all of which were about Boromir. In Lothlorien she had sensed that he carried a burden on his heart. But now, it seemed as if the burden had doubled in size and weight.
His physical body may not have been tired, but she sensed a great weariness in his spirit. If only there was something she could really do. But she knew it was not so, it was something he had to work out himself.
Finally, Boromir was lying comfortably on the cot. As Isilme started folding his cloak up, he stopped her. "Please leave the cloak."
For a moment, Isilme paused then handed the cloak. She found it interesting how the temperature and weather affected mortals more than the Elves.
As Boromir was settling the covering over his body, Isilme knelt just beside the cot. "Sleep well," she whispered.
He turned to face her. In much seriousness he only said, "It does my heart good to see your here, Isilme."
Isilme couldn't help but reach out a hand to softly stroke his head. "Rest, dear friend. Your heart needs it." She was surprised as he suddenly took her other hand, and stared intently at the ring Haldir had given her. The expression on his face was one of curiousness and Isilme felt herself blush against her will.
Boromir's face suddenly brightened and his smile was that of a man who had cast aside all of his worries. He looked up at Isilme slyly. "My, Elves do work fast. So, Haldir already proposed."
"He hasn't said anything, he just gave me the ring as a keepsake," Isilme said, trying to keep her embarrassment from coming out in her voice.
The man looked at her skeptically. "Is that so?" Once again he looked at the ring. "'Tis a beautiful ring, Isilme. Almost as beautiful as the love he has for you. If I were you, I wouldn't give him an opportunity to get away."
"I never had any intention of letting him go." Isilme tried to put on a stern face as she remembered how exactly Haldir had spoken to her in Lorien of his love. "If my memory serves me correctly, it was you who had him approach me in the first place."
Boromir shrugged innocently. "I didn't tell him to do anything. I just gave a subtle hint."
"And a friendly push if I should venture to guess." Isilme could not stop her lips from curving upwards in a gentle smile. She leaned forward to kiss him on the cheek. "I thank you for everything. Now rest, I promise to wake you before too much time has passed."
He gave her hand a squeeze. "I thank you, too."
Isilme stood up and left the warrior to give him some sorely needed peace and quiet. Without any surprise she saw that Bawuer was waiting a short distance away. She had heard someone come a while back and had presumed it to be the Rohirrim soldier.
How much had he overheard? He had an expression on his face that Isilme could not really decipher. This was not the playful man she had first seen, there was a serious and very thoughtful side to his character she hadn't known. For some reason, knowing that this man was not all that he seemed, she felt a little uncomfortable.
She motioned for him to follow her towards some empty seats. She bade him sit down. "Let me look at your leg."
"Thank you for taking the time," he said as he took off his bloodied boot then rolled up the legging to show the wounded leg. Isilme did not answer as she concentrated on cleaning the flesh with a wet cloth she had taken from a lone water bucket nearby.
"When did you get this arrow wound?"
"At the wall," was his curt reply.
"And I presume you took the arrow out yourself. And have been walking around the whole time since."
He shrugged. "This is not the first time I have taken an arrow. Besides, it did not hurt much."
Isilme looked up sharply then returned to her work. 'It did not hurt much?' The wound was deep, there was no way it did not hurt. Stubborn men...
No more words were spoken as she cleaned and bandaged the deep laceration. Through the whole time, Isilme's thoughts were filled with Boromir. What had caused him to become so troubled at mind? And what was he doing here; she had thought that at the first opportunity, he would seek the road towards his home in Minas Tirith.
Finally, the task was complete. Bawuer experimentally moved his ankle carefully. "A job well done, fair Elf-maiden."
As he cautiously put his boot back on, Isilme washed her hands of the blood. "How long have you known our mutual companion?" Bawuer asked.
"Long enough to know that he is a fine man." Isilme turned to face the other. "And you?"
"Only this morning. And he is a fine man." He smiled another of his charming smiles. "And what say you about me?"
Better to tell the truth. Isilme's eyes never left his. "I believe that you are more wise than you seem, Bawuer. There is a warrior's side to you aside from your lightheartedness." She tilted her head as another thought occurred to her. "Or maybe your lightheartedness is a façade to hide something else."
Bawuer's face had gotten serious as she spoke her words, and Isilme was afraid for a moment that she had said too much. But her fears were put to rest with his next words. "You are a remarkable lady, Isilme." He got up and tested his leg by leaning his weight upon it. Satisfied that he could walk, he bowed to Isilme. "I shall be off now, for I must report to my captain."
He turned to leave then stopped. "Oh, yes. The Elf, I believe his name was Haldir, said to tell you that your people will be leave by nightfall."
Isilme wondered why Haldir had Bawuer tell her that. Hadn't they already established when they would leave? But no matter. "Thank you."
This time it was Isilme who stopped Bawuer by saying, "Bawuer, I noticed you have your cloak off."
"Yes, it is a bit warm."
The Elf-maiden turned to look in the direction where Boromir lay covered in his black cloak. For some long moments, she just stared at the sleeping form as sadness for her friend enveloped her.
Without fully understanding why, she chased after Bawuer. She took him by the arm and spoke. "Bawuer, promise me this. Promise to watch over Boromir. Promise to take care of him. And more than anything, promise to be his friend." Realizing how hard she was squeezing the other's arm, she let go but continued holding his gaze. "Promise me. Please."
Bawuer took her hands and nodded. "I promise."
With his words, Isilme felt a calmness and peace envelop her soul.
**********
Frustrated, Faramir had to force himself not to crumple the letter in his hand. How could his father do this to him, do this to his men?
Only a week ago it had been since he had written to Denethor, asking for new supplies. But more importantly, he had asked for reinforcements. More than half of the men in Ithilien had been staying there for five months straight. The reinforcements would allow some of them to return home for a short while. Even a few days rest would do a world of good for them, it would boost their morale. Remind them why and for what they were fighting for.
Then the Steward's letter had come that afternoon. No more supplies, no more reinforcements. In Denethor's mind, it was more important to fortify the city of Osgiliath. So what extra reserves had been sent there, including fresh soldiers.
Faramir forced himself to calm down. It was no use dwelling on what couldn't be done. He had to have a positive outlook on things.
He snorted to himself. Positive? What was positive about the whole situation for the men in Ithilien? They were all weary to the bone, and only for their faith in their Captain they would have all deserted by now to go back to their families.
A family. The thought made Faramir pause. Did he really know the meaning? Maybe long ago, in the far, dim past when his mother had been alive. And those many years after she had died, when Boromir and he had been inseparable.
But a true family? Would he ever know its true meaning.
Faramir sat in front of his hastily set up desk and began flipping through the many reports. More Easterlings every day were heading this way. But there were not enough of his men to create a real offense. So with a renewed vigor, he began to finish making his plans to attack. He had to strategize the best way in which to attack without putting his men in to much danger.
A few minutes passed when Mablung came to stand at attention before Faramir's desk. "I need your approval for tonight's watch."
The Captain of the Ithilien Rangers took the list and glanced through it quickly. "That's fine Mablung... wait, what's this?"
He pointed to one name. "Why is Damrod taking one of the posts? He was on watch last night."
Mablung shifted his feet uncomfortably. "Well, in all actuality it was Elbaran's shift tonight."
Faramir nodded in understanding as it dawned on him. Elbaran's had just returned from scouting up north, most certainly he would be tired. He still frowned. "That is really no excuse, Damrod knows better than taking two night watches in a row."
His Lieutenant lowered his eyes. "Aye, Captain."
Faramir took a pen and scratched off Damrod's name and wrote in another. After doing thus, he gave the list back to Mablung and returned to finishing some other reports. Mablung looked at the paper and looked up, startled. "But Captain, you wrote in your name..."
"I know what I wrote Mablung. Be off with you, I know you have work to do."
"But Captain, you were up all night last night..."
"Dismissed, Mablung," Faramir cut in.
Mablung opened his mouth to speak some more then stopped. He nodded gravely and after saluting, left Faramir alone.
Faramir paused in his work to rub his eyes. In all truth, he was tired. Dead tired, and weary in spirit. Yet, he could not let it show, would not let it show. His men needed him, and in a way he need them, too. Damrod was a good man, he needed the rest.
The Captain made a promise to himself that he would rest tomorrow. But not now.
He stared at the pile of papers. He didn't have to read them to know that they all lead up to one thing. It would not be long before they would have to evacuate. Until then though, he was going to do his best to make sure he would not lost one man from his rangers.
**********
Author's Note: So, was it any good? I wanted to write a little bit about how Boromir and Faramir are feeling at this moment in the history of Middle Earth. Boromir of course is wearied in spirit because of the many questions and choices that are put to him. As for Faramir, he has the responsibility of a whole group of men, the pressure must be terrible (especially with Denethor being so hard on him).
Hopefully, the next chapter should come up pretty quickly. The awaited Boromir/Gandalf scene will be there, and I'm thinking of finally getting the whole bunch to leave Helm's Deep. They've lingered there long enough, huh? *wink*!
Special thanks to:
*Daughter of Olorin* ~ Thanks for reviewing! Wow, I know what you mean, the new scenes with Boromir in the TT:EE was fantastic! *for Gondor, for Gondor, for Gondor!* So, do you still like Bawuer? There's some more of him in this chapter, and I think I've established that he's going to remain a faithful companion to Boromir after promising to Isilme to do so. Again, thanks for reviewing!
*Diadora* ~ Hello! Hee hee! I'm glad you were pleased to see your name at the top of the previous chapter! So, does this chapter have some good Boromir angst? Maybe physically he's doing better, but Isilme knows that spiritually he's very wearied. Hopefully, some rest will help him a bit. ^_^
*Daisy Brambleburr* ~ I'm glad you like the previous chapter. Boromir angst! Hee hee! I'm starting to like Bawuer so much, he'll be a great companion for Boromir, don't you think? Boromir needs all the friends he gets...
*Boromir Defender* ~ Yeah, I really like Bawuer a lot, considering he's a dead ringer for Kiefer Sutherland! hee hee! I understand what you mean, writing about horses makes me miss everything about horses and riding. I can't wait until I can visit the states again so I can go riding! "The Sons of the Steward" IS fantastic, I've already seen it so many times! Sean Bean is certainly the best! I can't wait to see him play Odysseus in "Troy".
*The Dark Wanderer* ~ I'm glad you liked the previous chapter! Boromir is a pretty complex character and the more I write about him, the more I know I have to explain certain aspects of his character. I'm glad you find Isilme ok, how do you like her in this chapter?
*Bulegristwen* ~ Sorry, just like Boromir I keep putting off his meeting with the 'other guys' (Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli)! I really want it to come out dynamic, but I'm kinda still trying to figure out how it's going to turn. Just think of it as I'm just as confused as Boromir! hee hee! I hope you like this new chapter!
*Aelimir* ~ I'm glad you like Bawuer! He's starting to have quite a following! Maybe I'll write a scene where we finally get to go 'into his thoughts'. TT:EE is simply superb! hee hee, I think Bawuer goading Boromir into revealing himself has become one of my favorite scenes to right. I want to portray Bawuer as a sort of 'very confident, a bit lighthearted' fellow. Well, keep the 'horsemanship tips' coming! It's always such a big help!
*Sirens Muse* ~ Hello, thanks so much for reviewing! Cool, you're an author, too? I gotta check out your stories! Are they Lord of the Rings stories? *wink*! I'll definitely keep your advice, I'll keep writing!
*Sean/Boromir Fan* ~ Hiya! Thanks for always writing such... ummm... 'interesting' reviews. They always make my day (they make me laugh, too!) Makes all my writing worth it! Anyway, when are YOU gonna write you story? I wanna read so much! Pretty please?
*Spry Sprite* ~ Thanks for reviewing once again! I'm glad you're liking Bawuer and Ebon so far! I really love writing their characters! So... I need an update from "Insanity Abounds"! Keep writing!
*iwantboromir* ~ I'm glad you're liking my story! It's always a good feeling that someone loves what you write! *does a happy dance*! Sorry that I'm pushing the Boromir/Gandalf scene to the next chapter. I fully intended of putting it in this chapter... but it just didn't work out. Sorry! Hopefully it'll come out in the next chappie!
*Erindi* ~ Thanks so much for reviewing! Oooh, please tell me where you have your fiction! I wanna read! I love most any alterations of the LOTR trilogy, they're all pretty much very interesting. Thanks for pointing out the spelling mistakes. In a little while I'm going to go over my whole story, updating and 'tweaking' some of the chapters. Once again, thanks so much for reviewing!
*beats me...* ~ Glad you're liking what I've done so far!
*iron-eyes24* ~ Hello, thanks for your ALWAYS fun reviews! Hee hee! Yeah, I understood what you meant when you wrote 'review or be smote'. Ha ha! LOL! Your Goodbye Mr. Anderson was sooo funny, made me laugh and feel so good! So, you likey this new chappie?
*Alex92* ~ hee hee! I'm glad you know you're liking Bawuer! Do you like him in the chapter? I've made him promise to be a good friend to our dear Boromir. Hee hee!