Notes, Warnings etc
I'm twisting canon a little in this. I've had so little of Boromir in this tale that I'm going to include him among the army of the Dead. If you want to be picky as to why, movie-Boromir swore that Gondor would see that the will of the Council was done. This is his way of doing that.
Chapter Seventeen - Ghosts
As the sun was rising, the Grey Company came upon the Door to the Paths of the Dead. It had taken a day to ride from Dunharrow to the Dimholt Road, each gallop of the horses or step of the rider becoming harder than the last. None knew what they were being led to, most only having a basic grasp of the history surrounding the place. Not even the Elven twins fully understood what lay beyond the arch and their Dúnedain counterparts only choosing this road because there was no other choice for them. Aragorn had revealed to Dídauar and the Elven twins as to why he had chosen what could only be classed as suicide; a fleet of Corsairs was making its way to Gondor, to aid Sauron in his capture of the western country. If the heirs to Isildur wished to catch another glimpse of the Tower of Ecthelion glittering in the sunlight and watch the banners of Minas Tirith flutter proudly in the wind, they simply had no other option but to call traitors into their ranks.
"The Dead made this way," muttered Legolas as his gaze drifted across the entrance. "They do not suffer the living to pass."
"They will suffer us," replied Aragorn.
"My death lays beyond," said Halbarad more to himself than anyone else though his voice carried across the silent company. His sons, as well as Culas and Nemír, started and stared at the man. Tarcil's gaze quickly switched to Dídauar who hung her head. The smoke-grey eyes of Halbarad's first born widened and he turned to face his brother. Arahael's hazel eyes also widened and he looked between Dídauar and Halbarad in panic.
"But I will brave the road none the less. But our horses shall not enter."
"Our horses will brave any path we dread so long as we ourselves do not succumb to dread and fear," replied Dídauar, her gaze darting between the four youngest members. Culas and Nemír nodded but Tarcil and Arahael continued to look understandably panic stricken. With a nod to Aragorn, she took the younger twins by the arms and led them a small distance away from the group.
"Does he speak the truth?" demanded Tarcil, mindful to keep his voice low. "Or is he merely being pessimistic about the outcome of what we are about to face?"
"He speaks the truth," replied Dídauar.
"And you let him ride!" exclaimed Tarcil.
"I did not let him ride," said Dídauar sharply. "If I had my way he would be on his way back to the North or at least still be in Rohan. Your father knows his fate should he follow and still he chooses to do so. All we can do is guard his back and make sure he does not fall."
"So you have cleansed yourself of any guilt should he fall because you told him?" snarled Arahael. "Does that mean that you feel no guilt that Rohan's Prince and Gondor's Steward-heir are dead? Because you warned the Lord Elrond that they were going to fall and that you tried to reach Rohan in time!"
Two things happened in very quick succession once Arahael had completed his sentence; Tarcil lashed out at Arahael, backhanding him sharply across the cheek, before Dídauar propelled him against the nearest support while Elrohir – who had been standing close by – threw himself at a stunned Arahael, the latter pair crashing to the ground in an painful tangle of limbs.
"Don't," warned Dídauar as Tarcil struggled against her. "Tarcil no! Not on the eve we ride for battle."
"Why should I trust that you mean well?" demanded Arahael, struggling against the Elf who pinned him to the ground. By this time fear and anger were in control of the younger of Halbarad's sons and he wasn't really thinking about what he spat at Dídauar, nor did he care what effect his words would have on his cousin.
"You had plenty opportunity to reach Rohan. Instead you delayed and people died. How can you ask me to trust that you mean well by my father when he still rides at your side?"
"That is enough!" snapped Halbarad standing between his sons, a furious fire burning in his eyes as his gaze connected with first Tarcil's then Arahael's gaze.
"I ride because I am bound by oath and love. As do you! We ride to a war from which there is very little chance that anyone will return. Sauron has gained much of his former strength his power and any discontent between those who oppose him will be exploited! Do you really wish for him to gain a stronger foothold in our world and destroy what good we have bled to protect? If so, please continue with what you are doing. If not, shut up and leave your fighting for the battlefield! Mount up and get ready to ride. Arahael, you are riding by me. Tarcil, you ride with Tarondor. Move!"
"Yes sir," muttered the twins, Arahael walking smartly towards his roan mount and hauling himself into the saddle without so much as a backwards glance in his twin's direction. Once Arahael was safely in his saddle, Dídauar released Tarcil and pointed him in the direction of Tarondor, her eyes and face emotionless.
TTEOARTTEOAR
The Grey Company lost track of the time the rode the Paths of the Dead, the ghosts which Aragorn had summoned making their presence felt even if they could only be seen by those with the keenest eyes and steadiest heart. Panic had threatened to take hold of the company when the few torches they had were extinguished by the ever increasing presence of the ghosts. Never had any of the riders been so glad to see the face of the moon and the pin-prick of stars as on that night, though they were given little opportunity to admire the sight as Aragorn pushed them on to the Stone of Erech. The dead warriors were not yet sworn to fulfil their oath and could turn on the company without so much as a warning.
Aragorn marched towards the Stone of Erech, unsheathing Andúril as he went. Dídauar went with him as she too was 'heir of him to whom the oath they swore'.
"Oath-breakers, why have you come?" asked Aragorn.
"To fulfil our oath and have peace," replied the ghosts as they gradually developed a form, though they maintained an other-worldly appearance. Those who stood nearby drew away from the dead warriors, each fighting to keep their terror from showing in their eyes.
"Once you swore to purge this land of the servants of Sauron, though your fled when called. This land once again needs purged of that same evil. Join with us and fight, and I will hold your oath fulfilled," beseeched Aragorn.
"And who are you to offer us this? What gives you the right to command us?" asked one of the ghosts detaching himself from the main throng. Aragorn raised Andúril, pointing the blade skyward and resting the crossbar at his chin.
"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn, heir to the one to who you swore your oath," replied Aragorn, the bright moon and numerous stars glinting on Andúril's blade. The ghosts seemed to dim slightly in the presence of the sword.
"Follow me and I will hold your oath fulfilled!" shouted Aragorn, for some reason praying that the feelings of the majority would be enough to sway the decision of the host. The one who had spoken considered Aragorn and Dídauar who themselves also seemed to have taken on an other-worldly appearance, though those who saw would put it down to the presence of the ghosts. Eventually the ghost gave a half bow and an ancient salute and the Rangers breathed a sigh of relief. Dídauar glanced round at the men and then at Aragorn who inclined his head.
"Take your rest," called Dídauar as Aragorn re-sheathing Andúril. "We ride out at dawn."
If the situation hadn't been so tense she would have laughed at the fleeting looks of terror that past over several faces. Rest? With hundreds of ghosts surrounding you? Even Dídauar had to admit that she was asking for a miracle but she knew that the men had to at least be offered the chance of rest even if they didn't take it.
TTEOARTTEOAR
As the Rangers set about pitching a meagre camp, staying as far away from the ghosts as they could without leaving the camp or seeming impolite, Aragorn and Dídauar managed to disappear causing Gimli to echo the words of the Rohirrim who had watched them leave first Helm's Deep then Dunharrow. Legolas whacked him sharply on the upside of the head and reminded the Dwarf why Fate had forced them to take this road. Gimli thankfully relented but was still not happy about being surrounded by hundreds of ghostly warriors, be they sworn to Aragorn or not.
"Who are you looking for?" asked Aragorn as Dídauar meandered through the host of the Dead, examining clothing and faces, clearly looking for someone she recognised.
"Do you not remember the oath Boromir swore when still in Imladris?" Dídauar asked.
"He swore no oath," said Aragorn. "None of the Fellowship did."
"What did he say once it had been decided that the Ring would be destroyed rather than used as a weapon?" prodded Dídauar.
"If this is indeed the will of the council, then Gondor will see it done," replied Aragorn. He gasped in shock. "You don't think……Kalya he won't be here, he didn't swear an oath to Isildur, nor could he break one to the Fellowship. No oath was placed upon him to be broken!"
"The Boromir I knew would not see it in such a way," replied Dídauar. "And once an oath was sworn or a promise made, Boromir would not relent or forget."
"Now why does that sound familiar," muttered Aragorn, casting his glance back to the camp were Halbarad was currently chastising his sons for their behaviour on the other side of the Door. Neither appeared too impressed with their father or twin.
"Using Halbarad as an example, do you think he would sit in the Eternal Halls while either of us remained in mortal danger?" asked Dídauar. Aragorn shook his head.
"The same applies to Boromir. He may not have been an oath-breaker of old but an oath-breaker he is. Faramir is still in danger and the Quest is not yet complete," continued Dídauar.
"I'm sorry, where does Faramir come into this?" asked Aragorn.
"When Faramir was born, Finduilas knew she would not be around to see him grow up. She asked Boromir to always look out for Faramir. Surely you noticed how determined he was to return south?" replied Dídauar.
"I thought he was desperate to get back to defending his people," muttered Aragorn.
"And in doing so; Faramir," said Dídauar, abandoning the current circle of ghosts and moving towards another huddle.
"So why are you seeking him out?" asked Aragorn following her.
"To apologise," replied Dídauar. Aragorn raised an eyebrow.
"Beg your pardon?"
"For being unable to prevent his fall," replied Dídauar. "And for Faramir being in danger." One of the ghosts moved violently at her words and Dídauar made a bee-line for them, leaving Aragorn standing with his mouth hanging open. Quickly realising he was gawking and not particularly wanting to be left standing alone amongst the dead army, Aragorn hurried after his sister.
"What do you mean apologise for Faramir being in danger?" he demanded. "You haven't placed the Orcs in his path. Nor have you commanded Sauron to focus his attacks on him!"
"No, but I have Seen and cannot prevent. Estel, you know why I am sent visions. I am supposed to be able to change something but this time I can do nothing but watch. I have no Elf Lord to confide in. I have no mind-speech to deliver a message. I do not even know where Faramir is so that I myself can ride to his aid."
He will be in Ithilien, said a voice that might as well have been the wind as far Aragorn was concerned. He had not seen any of the ghosts speak and none of them seemed to be making themselves known to the pair. Dídauar however was focused on a sole entity.
Sauron has been forcing our borders for years. Ithilien is the path to and from Mordor, continued the ghost.
"Why has he not been drawn back?" asked Dídauar. "He is heir to the Stewardship now that you have passed!"
Why are you here? asked the ghost in response.
"Because those I lo……" began Dídauar before tapering off, realising what the ghost was meaning. The entity nodded once in agreement.
He fights for the same reasons. Even if Father did not order him there, he would return while just one of his men remained standing, they continued.
"As would you," muttered Dídauar. The ghost smiled and moved forward causing Aragorn to blink in shock.
We are defenders of the weak and the innocent first, heirs to a Kingdom second, said Boromir. You taught us that. Already my death has saved many and freed a people that have long felt the grip of tyranny. It was not a pointless sacrifice. Do not blame yourself. If it was to be prevented, it would have been.
"But I……"
My Lady, I was told of what awaited me should I continue on the Quest, said Boromir with a small smile. And still I chose to follow.
"You knew!" exclaimed Dídauar. Boromir nodded.
But I am a warrior, I had a duty to carry out. The cost of doing so was not too high. Please, do not blame yourself.
"Boromir……" began Aragorn having regained his wits and looking more than a little cautious. Boromir turned and inclined his head to his King.
"Why……How……" spluttered Aragorn. While Aragorn could not be classed as a man of many words, it was rare for him to be this incoherent. Fortunately Boromir seemed to understand what the elder man was trying to ask.
Your sister is right, he said. I broke the oath that I swore, both to you and to my mother. It is only right that I am to be numbered with the oath-breakers of old.
"But you died with honour!" protested Aragorn. Boromir smile saddened a little.
As did many of those who surround us, yet because of a single misguided action, they have been denied their rest, he said.
"How will you find yours?" asked Dídauar. "You cannot linger forever."
Honestly? I haven't thought about that, said Boromir.
"Swear me another oath," said Dídauar suddenly. Boromir cocked his head. "Swear to me that you will leave for the Eternal Halls after you have fought this battle. Estel is right, you died with honour. The others will be freed, promise me that you will allow your soul to be released in the same manner."
And what of my other oaths? asked Boromir.
"You were released from your oath to the Fellowship at Parth Galen," said Aragorn.
And to my mother? demanded Boromir.
"Trust us to continue from where you finished," said Dídauar. "She knows that you have done your best. She would not wish you to suffer."
Watching Faramir would not be a chore, muttered Boromir. But a welcome gift.
"That would cause you pain. Remember him as you saw him last and swear to me that you will allow yourself to find peace when the others are released," said Dídauar, practically begging Boromir to say yes. Boromir considered the former Guard Captain for a few moments before nodding.
Once my task is done, he said, saluting the twins and bowing his head in servitude. He seemed to melt back into the crowd of ghosts that surrounded them.
TTEOARTTEOAR
I am so sorry about the lateness of this chapter. Real life got in the way entirely over the past few weeks and I didn't have the chance to sit and write sufficiently to get the creative juices flowing. This chapter still doesn't flow the way I wanted it to. Hopefully things should become easier in the next couple of weeks.
Thank you for your patience
KC