Chief quickly rushed over to Cotana. There was nothing else in his mind. The Uruks were gone, dead or having retreated from the battle. The Hobbits, Merry, Pippin. Also gone! It was heart-breaking to think what might become of them.
Cortana, injured, what could he actually do for her? She wasn't even human...he put his hand to her neck, simply out of instinct. To his shock, there it was, a pulse, strong and obvious. The implications of this were simple, she was alive. It was as if Cortana was sleeping, not a scratch on her. She was unharmed, simply at peace.
Reassured, Chief looks over his saviour. Where would he be without her? Attempting to find her CPU. He finds it, just underneath the skin behind her back. It's undamaged. He moves his hand over to the spot, and the moment his hand touches it, Cortana's avatar disappears.
The computer system does not move, it simply hangs in place, motionless, levitating in mid-air. He takes hold of it, there is no resistance. A small disc of light pulses at the centre of the construct. A small pixel of light performing a circuit, running the circumference of the circle, like the fading spot of a radar monitor.
This is an indicator of one thing. That her system is rebooting. To say the least, Chief is relieved. As he places her gently into her holster, back safe inside his armour, he knew that she would be ok. Better at least than...BOROMIR! Boromir had fallen during the fight!
Immediately sprinting over to him, to the fallen warrior of Gondor, Chief quickly assesses his condition. Two arrows, deep in his shoulder and stomach. He pulled them out immediately, being careful to cause no more trauma. Successful, but blood begins to pour from the fully opened wounds. He has to act quickly, Boromir's life depends on it!
As Chief pulled the second one out, Boromir came round, immediately cried out at the pain. It was the first good sign Chief had gotten from him, but it could still be the last!
"Ahh...Sp-Spartan! Forgive me!" He said simply, trying to grasp Chief's arm. He began to shake, a mixture of shock and weeping. For he still felt as though he had failed them. Failed the hobbits, failed the fellowship...
Meanwhile, Aragorn fights on, and has met his equal. He climbs to his feet, but Lurtz is already on him. Sword against sword, skill against savagery.
Lurtz hits first, catching Aragorn off balance. Wrong footed, all he can do is hold his sword as tight as possible. He manages to stop Lurt'z attack, stopping the Uruk in its tracks. Metal slides against metal, elven craftsmanship equalling the crude but heavy duty orc blade.
The Uruk stares into the ranger's eyes, time to end this! Time to prove his species' superiority. Pushing with all his might and strength, he sends Aragorn flying. Completely off balance, Aragorn falls back more than twelve feet before a tree stops him. Aragorn is winded, his sword flies out of his hand due to the force of the impact. Lurtz will not give him the opportunity to retrieve his weapon!
The Uruk does something remarkable. He grabs the shield by its base and lobs it straight at the heir of Gondor. The shield hurtles through the air. Unstable in flight, it flies up towards Aragorn, like a wing or kite, lodging itself right between his neck and the tree, pinning him in place. Aragorn can't breathe, and can't move. He is desperate, knowing that he is only seconds from death.
This is his chance. Lurtz charges forwards, sword raised high, roaring in victory. Aragorn struggling, with all his might, trying to wriggle free, trying to move the shield away. He feels the spikes beginning to loosen, making room and leverage, and just in time creates enough space to escape. He ducks below the huge piece of metal, just as an Uruk sword slams into the place where just moments ago his neck had been.
Sparks fly from his heavy sword, causing the monster's eyes to light up like a burning flame as light reflects off of his pitch-black, blood shot eyes. Aragorn attacks, punching the Uruk in the stomach, seemingly to no effect. Lurtz slams his elbow into Aragorns' side, throwing backwards, falling into the clearing behind.
Relentless, Lurtz swings his sword down towards Aragorn, who rolls, managing to avoid the heavy blade. Aragorn breathes in and kicks as hard as he can into the charging captain's solar plexus, stunning him for a moment. Without his sword, Aragorn draws his Arnor dagger, forged long ago by his father, and slices into the Uruk's leg.
This only enrages Lurtz further, fighting off the pain, and for only the second time in his life, sees his own blood. He twists around to face Aragorn, preventing him from taking the knife out due to the awkward angle. Grabbing him with his free hand, and with his sword arm punches him hard in the face, following through with his cast iron gauntlet.
Lurtz drops his sword, and picking the ranger up, head-butts him, drawing blood. Punching him again, to the side of the chin, he sends Aragorn sprawling to the right. Stunned and concussed now, Aragorn needs time to recover, but cannot know if the Uruk will give him enough!
Lurtz feels the knife again and roars in pain. Clearing all doubt from his mind, he drags it out of his calf. Aragorn is dazed and confused, but with a flash of recognition, realises that he has landed right beside his sword. Fortune has finally come his way! His head clearing, he knows that HE has the advantage now! Courage is all that is required, "End this, ranger!" He savagely tells himself!
Lurtz licks his blood from the blade, trying to intimidate Aragorn, who is seemingly too dazed to notice. Out of revenge and hate, he throws the knife at him, hurtling straight for his heart.
Aragorn's body floods with adrenaline and a mix of a dozen other chemicals. His head clears, and he successfully deflects the near invisible target. Aragorn stands, his time has come, Lurtz is completely unarmed!
Realising his mistake, the Uruk hobbles over to his sword, his leg practically useless. The captain grabs it just in time, just as the enraged Dunedain charges him with wild abandon.
Fighting harder than he has ever done, Aragorn drives the powerful Uruk back, blindsiding him with his sudden burst of rage and savagery. Overwhelming him with a flurry of blows, Lurtz finally lets his guard down, and without mercy, Aragorn cleaves his arm from him, disarming Lurtz once more.
Whilst the Uruk gazes at his severed limb in fascination, Aragorn drives his blade straight into the creature's chest, the final death blow, so he thinks. His feral eyes bulge, and blood pours from his mouth. Crippled, with sheer agony rips through his body. And yet the powerful creature does not fall, he will not give in!
He grabs Aragorn's sword with his remaining arm, and with the last of his strength, pulls an amazed and terrified Aragorn towards his snarling, tooth ridden maw. Leaning forward, wrenching against the blade as his wound opens even further, as if trying to rip out Aragorn's throat with his bare teeth!
Chief is watching, as is Boromir, both with their hearts in their mouths!
Aragorn will not have it! He steels himself, and supresses all fear and doubt. He pulls the sword from the Uruk's gut, pulling off most of its fingers in the act. Swinging his sword around in a huge arc, he finishes it. Coupe de grace, decapitation.
The battle is over, and humanity has won this day, not Uruk kind! And yet the victory is bitter. Aragorn see's the Chief first, he is cradling Boromir, ridden with wounds, possibly on his death bed. Boromir is pale, a massive gash over his left temple. He is covered in blood, some of it his, most of it not. He has gone through hell.
Aragorn rushes over to his side. As soon as he reaches him, Boromir grabs him by the shoulder. "Aragorn, th-they took the little ones...Merry, Pip-pin, couldn't save them..." And then his face fills with even more fear. "...Oh, no...Frodo, where is Frodo?" He asks in absolute horror. If Frodo has been slain, than the ring lost with him, and all else must be surely lost!
Aragorn tries to smile, this task takes a different kind of courage. "I let him go!" He replies, with honestly, in consolation for his fallen comrade.
Boromir is still horrified, "A-a-nd the others, Sam, Gi-Gimli, Leg..." It is at that moment where he sees them, Legolas and Gimli. They have just entered the clearing, shocked at the amount of bodies strewn around the hillside.
It is than that the two see the massive form of the Nimmah, struggling, desperately trying to get at one of them. Immobile, rabid, foaming at the mouth. Legolas fires a single arrow, to no effect, the broken creature only screams all the louder. Gimli is disgusted, almost gagging. He strides over to the monster, takes his axe, raised high, and brings it down hard.
The creature's body moves no more, its severed head twitches for a few moments, than it to, finally falls still. "That is how you finish an enemy, master elf!" He announces, shaking his head at the futility of the elf's action. An arrow, really?
But Legolas will not have this, not now! "Have you no respect Gimli? Boromir is dying, do you not see?" Gimli turned round, gazing at his fallen comrade, utterly ashamed for his lack of care and respect.
Boromir is still not consoled by Aragorn's words, or the other two's appearance, they only worry him more, "Sam, no, no Sam is he..." Everyone else looked round at each other, Chief and Legolas shook their heads as Aragorn stared at them, wide eyed, imploring them for information. No one knew his fate!
"I have not seen him Boromir" Aragorn began, he would not lie to him, "He will be with Frodo, I know he will. Sam made him a promise, he will intend to keep it, he will not break it!" He only hoped that his dying friend would be consoled by this.
Boromir was still not at peace, he still had to come to terms with the rest of his fears, "Than you did what I could not Aragorn. You saw me, I tried to take the ring from him...after swearing my oath...forgive me, please, I did not see!"
It was then that he suddenly wailed in pain. Chief was applying some kind of salve to his wounds, his chest and stomach, and a little onto his head. It was bio foam. The fellowship stared at the curious substance, it moved strangely and bubbled like magma, and thick, pungent steam came off from it. It altered shape and solidified, forming a protective cast, like a scab.
Boromir stopped screaming, the wounds calmed, it was the sterilization process that had made him cry out. The wounds were easier suddenly, everyone could tell, even Boromir. Chief continued, taking a tube from his helmet. "Drink this Boromir!" He ordered him sternly.
Boromir watches as Chief squeezes the tube, drops of water fall out from it. He frowns angrily and tries to swat it away, "No...Leave it, it is over!" He says suddenly, refusing his help.
Chief knows what Boromir is doing, he is giving up. Not on the quest, but on life, on everything! "I have failed you all..." He continues, but Aragorn interrupts his apathy.
"No!" he says softly, "You fought bravely, you have kept your honour, and made up for all misdeeds".
A single tear trickled down Boromir's eye. Even after all this...perhaps he had repaid his misdeeds, done his kind and people proud...this lead him to his final fear, the greatest of his three. "It is over then. If we cannot defeat our demons, within and without, then the world of men will fail...all will come to darkness, and my city and all to ruin!"
He began to weep. Chief tried to help, even if Boromir had given up on himself, he hadn't. "The fight isn't over yet, Boromir".
But this meant nothing for him. Aragorn and Chief were finally starting to see, they understood Boromir now. Men needed hope, they currently had none. That was why he had wanted the ring so badly. The slim glimmer of hope it offered, that it may not have been all evil and could offer salvation for Gondor was enough for him to forsake everything. Aragorn knew what he had to do. He was being selfish, how could he stand by now, neglect his powers and lineage? If not for himself, than for everyone else...
"I do not know what strength is in my blood. But I swear that I will not let the White City fall...nor our people fail!" This confuses Boromir, what is Aragorn saying?
"Our people?" He asked, but then with pride, he realises. "Yes, our people!" He says with pride and warmth in his heart. He manages to smile, his first in such a long time. The return of the king, that was a hope his people needed! He had never wanted such responsibility himself, he was a soldier at heart, and a captain at best. Not a king! He had proven that here, amongst the ancient ruins of ancient Amon Hen.
Boromir tries to reach for his sword, he is still in shock, he can't quite do it. Aragorn helps him, and brings the sword and his arm to his chest. Chief remembers something, a Muriel he once saw, a monument to the Great War, earth's first global conflict. The resting warrior, with a sword and rifle rested against his chest...At the entrance of the Arboretum, the mass resting place of ten thousand forgotten heroes.
No! Chief would not have this! Not after all this! Boromir had to live! "I would have followed you my brother..." Boromir began to say, his soul finally at peace "...my captain...my-" "NO Boromir!" Chief exclaims, pulling Boromir's sword from his hand.
Everyone stared at him in shock, as if he had just murdered one of the hobbits. But no, grabbing the plastic tube once more, he would not have it! "You are not finished Boromir, the foam I applied will continue to heal you. You must drink this water, now!" It was more than water, it was a hypotonic solution, full of quick release sugars, vital nutrients and fast acting stimulants. In combination with the bio foam, it was sure to kick-start his body and organs. Keep him breathing, conscious and alive.
Boromir would make it through this, but he didn't know it yet. Boromir stared at the Spartan, with a mix of sorrow and apathy, "Please, Chief, It is over...give me back my sword so that I may die wit-" "No Boromir! Your wounds are not severe, you need to drink this water!"
Boromir looked at the tube, it would be good at least to quench his thirst before death, stop him shaking so much! He took it to his mouth, Chief helping him. John wasn't a medic, but every Spartan knew first aid, he just hadn't specialised in it. This was all the medical attention that Boromir needed.
Boromir drank, surprised by the sweetness of the drink, and how it burned his throat a little. He swigged down a dozen massive gulps, stating his thirst. Suddenly, he started to feel odd. Had the Spartan poisoned him? No! He had tricked, him, more medicine!
His ears that had once been dull were becoming clear once more. His sight was restored, which had been cloudy and full of shadows. His eyes were now clearing, sight becoming distinguished once more. The pain that wracked his body started to subside, and he could feel the beating of his heart speed up and breath become harder. He was recovering, starting to recover, and above all else, he was shaking no more.
"Would you deny me a heroes' death Spartan?" He said, almost bitter. Chief simply shook his head.
"No, there is still a fight to be had. You may yet find a 'glorious death' Boromir. Your people need you. All those good in this world need you! Boromir, this may not be my world...but it is my duty to protect the lives of innocents. No matter what, I will not stop fighting your enemies. You almost gave your life for the hobbits. Is there no strength left in you to fight for your own people?"
Boromir was shocked. He was finally understanding this Spartan. There was a lot of understanding being realised today! He began to snap out of his apathy, and he was inspired. This John, this Spartan, with no thought of reward or gain, was willing to give everything he had to save this world. How could he stand by so selfishly and not too fight? Boromir knew that his people needed their captain, they needed all strength and courage that was left within them! This was not the time for death, the Spartan's medicine had pulled him from the brink. And now...weak as he was...he knew that this was not his time to die!
Boromir pushed the two men away from him. He wiped himself down, wiping black blood away from his spoilt tunic. He rose off of his back, his stomach and shoulder screaming in pain, making him wince. But he wouldn't cry out, not now! He rolled over, onto all fours. He would not give in, his people needed him. He filled himself with the image of his city, and all those he held dear within it. His father, his beloved brother, all those he cared about. His soldiers, his men, his brothers in arms, close as any family...his long gone mother!
He pushed against the tree, and against his thigh. He stood, finally stood, legs wobbling, still in shock, shaking now from head to foot. But he would not be defeated, not whilst, as the Spartan always said, there was 'still a fight to be had!'
"Let us finish this fight, John! Let us finish it!" He exclaimed with steel pride. He, was, back!
Chief took his hand, and put the other on his left shoulder, the uninjured side. "I am honoured to fight by someone so determined!" He replied, still trying to boost the man's confidence.
It was then when blue light erupted from the Spartan's armour, and a CPU flew out. Cortana, rubbing the side of her head, appeared by his side, and touched Boromir's arm with much tenderness. "As am I, son of Gondor!" She said softly, with fealty and great tenderness.
Boromir was overwhelmed, Cortana's beauty was a straw to break any horses back! His weak legs became even weaker, and Boromir lost his balance. Aragorn and Chief caught him of course, they wouldn't stop looking out for each other out here!
"Perhaps, I shall finish this fight after a week or two, my good brothers!" Boromir said smiling, his eyes glazing over in exhaustion. The Captain of the White Tower had a sense of humour? Who knew!
As Gimli and Legolas came over too, everyone couldn't help but smile, than burst out laughing altogether. The six hunters shook with laughter, finally letting go of weeks of stress and fear. Well, almost! Chief just nodded with them, smiling a little underneath his helmet.