One Shots » LotR

Evanesce

A battle cry broke from his mouth and Boromir pushed himself up, turning and throwing himself at the closest orc.

His blade lusted for the blood of those who dared threaten the fellowship. His fellowship.

Another orc met its end on his sword. He whirled through the onslaught of attackers, cutting down any that dared cross his path. His sword sang vibrantly.

"For one day, our paths will lead us there, and the tower guard will take up the call, 'the lords of Gondor have returned!"

But the world was spinning out of control. With every drop of blood that turned the dirt into mud, Boromir could feel his will draining.

His life ebbing away.

Then his sword struck orcish armor and the front shattered, driving the shards through the cracks of the chestplate. The orc fell hard to the ground, but as Boromir drew back, only the end of his sword remained.

The world slowed. He gasped.

In the distance, a quiet twang sounded. The air whistled. One of the halfings shouted.

Boromir heard a thunk, felt his body jolt forward. But he didn't quite feel the pain of third arrow, burying itself in his stomach.

Only the added weight of the world crashing down upon his shoulders.

For a split second, his eyes locked on the terror filled gaze of Pippin. The hobbit was crying something out... but Boromir couldn't hear a words that was shouted.

This time, he fell hard to the ground. His sword slipped from his hand and he stared dully at the dirt-- not the little ones.

They were shouting, screaming. Then the orcs were racing around his sides in a darkened blur and then the hobbits voices were crying in panic. Their voices were fading...

The cries were gone.

Breathing... Boromir couldn't breath. Every gasp was more painful than the last, sweat pouring down his forehead.

Somewhere to the side, leaves crunched. Two armored boots stepped before his gaze, crushing his dropped horn underfoot-- slowly. Deliberately.

Boromir lifted his head, pained gasps making his chest heave.

The tip of a black arrow stared him back. The tall Uruk snarled in victory, fitting the arrow in the bowstring and drawing slowly back.

It was then that Boromir realized he was dying.

That he was going to die.

It was not peacefully calm, like some had told him. But it was not in torturous despair, like others had claimed.

It was just... empty. Empty realization.

He had failed.

But before the final shot could be fired, a sudden shout broke the air. Boromir barely caught the sight of Aragorn throwing himself at the Uruk, driving him to the ground.

The arrow whizzed through empty air, missing its intended target by a hairlength.

Boromir let his head drop.

"Have you ever seen it Aragorn? The White Tower of Ecthelion, glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver, its banners caught high in the morning breeze. Have you ever been called home by the clear ringing of silver trumpets?"

Falling headfirst through his memories, Boromir recalled the sound the horse's hooves made as he departed from his home, riding tall through the open gates.

He remembered what kept him going during the cold nights, long after he had wandered off trail and his intended arrival had gone over.

His promise to his brother rang through his ears.

"Remember this day, little brother..."

He never quite realized it would the the last day he laid eyes upon his city. The last words he would speak with his father. The last goodbye he would say to Faramir.

"Boromir!"

Suddenly there were arms around his shoulders, leaning him back against the leaves. His eyes snapped open to see--

Aragorn.

"Th--" Boromir gasped, trying to find his breath. The searing pain of his wounds had found him fully now, spreading through his body like wildfire. "They took the little ones."

"Hold still."

With a jolt, the Ring-bearer's face flashed before his eyes and Boromir felt his heart flutter weakly. "Frodo. Where is Frodo?"

Aragorn's eyes softened and he looked down. "I let Frodo go."

Unbidden tears suddenly rose into his eyes and Boromir gasped, clutching at the man's hand. "Then you did what I could not. I-- I tried to take the Ring from him."

The admittance was like another arrow to his chest. I failed.

"Forgive me," he whispered, feeling his life leave with every word. But he no longer wished to hold onto the essence that held him to the earth. "I did not see it. I have failed you all."

Aragorn was speaking, but Boromir couldn't quite hear. The world had taken a white hue... he blinked as Aragorn started for the arrow in his chest and grasped at the man's arm weakly, shaking his head.

I failed you, Frodo.

"Leave it... it is over." A single tear slipped down his cheek. "The world of Men will fall and all will come to darkness... and my city to ruin."

Something in Aragorn's eyes flashed and Boromir felt him clutch his hand tighter. "I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you, I will not let the White City fall, nor our people fail."

Our people?

It was that moment, death no longer seemed like the end. No longer was his promise a broken oath. "Our people?"

Aragorn nodded and another tear slipped down Boromir's cheek. I promise, brother. I will see the White City again.

But... but only in spirit.

"I would have followed you, my brother" Boromir gasped, his hand slipping from Aragorn's arm. He blinked hard, nodding as firmly as his fading strength would allow. "My captain... My king."

Aragorn clenched his jaw, a single tear slipping down his cheek.

And Boromir felt the weight of his broken sword and horn upon his chest, slowly allowing his eyes to flutter closed. Numbness had claimed his body, his closed eyes shutting out the light of the living.

And he knew he was dying.

For I will see you again, Faramir, but you will not see me.

I'm sorry, little one.

Then the wind swept up and Boromir breathed slowly out, for the first time in years feeling fully at peace. Then... then he felt nothing.

And far south, Faramir blinked as the breeze danced through his open window, his brows furrowing together.

For briefly, he swore he heard the haunting echo of Gondor's horn.

A/N: this one is a contest entry for Istuineth in her book, the Tolkien Club! To all Tolkinites, I highly recommend checking it out, the club is an amazeballs way to bring together the fandom while also doing little contests and fun games along the way. Check it out!

For this one, I followed some dialogue from the movie and some of the other scenes (such as Boromir's breaking sword) from the book. Because I honestly thought both ways of Boromir's passing was nothing but utter beauty.

I promise, for those who are still waiting on request, I shall keep working on those! I've been attempting to get back to writing, but with ap exams out of the way, now finals are coming up! Yayyy...

Thanks much, dear lovelies! I'd love to hear your thoughts!