Far Horizons ❦ Boromir

thírtч-twσ: α tírєѕσmє jσurnєч

ARAGORN rose from where he had just slain the Uruk leader and dropped his bloodied blade. The Ranger knelt next to Aeardis and placed his hand on her shoulder, still reluctant to believe what he had just witnessed. "I can do nothing for the poison," she uttered, feeling as though she had failed regardless. He knew her to be strong and wise, yet when she turned to look at him, she looked broken and afraid. "Merry and Pippin cannot be left to such fates." In the span of only minutes, the Fellowship had broken.

"If he is to survive he must be taken back to Lothlórien." Aeardis nodded, understanding that Boromir needed aid beyond her skills, but she feared separation. For years Boromir had been a steady figure in her life, she could always count on seeing him unless he was off battling against the darkness of Mordor. "I won't leave him," her resolve was adamant.

Gimli and Legolas emerged into the clearing, coming to a quick halt when they laid their eyes upon a fallen Boromir. "I shall not ask you to," Aragorn assured her. There would be no need for her to leave his side. "Take him back to the Lady Galadriel. Harm should not follow you."

It took time to free the arrows from his chest as to not cause unnecessary damage and with strips torn from her own elven cloak she bound the wounds. They carried him to the boats and laid him down, carefully.

"Aeardis," Aragorn gripped onto her forearm. Though he remained silent she could decipher the questions he was asking. She shook her head and laid her sword and dagger into the boat as well. "Don't tarry, the little ones need you." Aragorn nodded, Legolas bowed his head, and Gimli tightened his grip on his axe, ready to hunt the Uruks that had taken the Halflings. The three hunters turned to depart. On the eastern shore was the boat that Samwise and Frodo had taken. Aeardis closed her eyes and laid her hand on his chest. The beat of his heart was faint, though it was the only hope she needed to cling to.

The water, child, she listened to the voice that had become familiar as of late and placed her hands in the water. The ring began to glow beneath the dark surface and strength crept back into her body. Renewed and determined she pushed the elven boat back into the Anduin and took up the oar. It was a four-day journey to the realm of Galadriel but the water gave her strength.

The day quickly faded into night and under the light of the moon, the Anduin looked deep and bottomless, like the sea. The sea, Aeardis thought with a distant smile. The swift elven boat cut through the water, her oar constantly pushing them forward. She looked down at Boromir and felt her heart and throat constrict. She couldn't lose him and if she did, how would she ever find the words to tell Faramir, to tell Denethor? And then suddenly she heard her father's voice, singing with that soft lilt of his that could soothe the angriest of souls. "Oh, won't you come with me, where the moon is made of gold, and in the morning sun we'll be sailing home."

It was a song she had not heard in ages, the lyrics had almost been forgotten. Aeardis dipped the oar back into the water and began to sing in a low and broken voice. "Oh won't you come with me, where the ocean meets the sky, and as the clouds roll by we'll sing the song of the sea."

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By the time she reached the borders of Lothlórien and came ashore, Aeardis could hardly move from the stiffness in her joints and the exhaustion that she fought from paddling day and night. She pulled him from the boat and could only take a step with his weight before her knees buckled and her body caved into itself. "Help! Someone help us!" She cried aloud. It seemed no one had heard. This time she screamed but there was no movement in the trees above or on the ground below. Her voice cracked, "anyone."

Aeardis pressed her cheek into Boromir's shoulder and watched the slow rise and fall of his chest, though it seemed to be growing slower. Before nightfall, she had managed to drag his limp body beneath the canopy of a tree and it was there that Haldir found them. She was asleep yet her arms were wrapped around Boromir with a fierce protectiveness.

The elf motioned his guard over. Four carried Boromir, while he bore Aeardis in his arms. Her skin was pale and like ice to the touch. The light that had once dwelled within her had gone.

Haldir and his elven guard brought Aeardis and the wounded Gondorian before Galadriel. She set aside a book and rose from her seat at the sudden intrusion. The Lady of the Wood looked at the distressed appearance of the young elven maid and to the unconscious and bloodied Boromir. "You have parted from the Fellowship," she announced, already knowing that it had broken, her vision from the Mirror had come to past.

Aeardis bit down on her lip. "Yes," she nodded, "please, I need your help."

"What is it you need?" Galadriel inquired, finding that she already had an inkling of what would be asked of her and her people. Aeardis's gaze shifted to the noble Captain of the White Tower. "It's Boromir, the arrows were laced with poison. De nestathol."

Galadriel looked down at the man. Three bloody spots had blossomed out over his fine tunic. Perhaps a piece of her felt responsible for his downfall. She had shown him what he most desired. The wellbeing of Gondor and the woman who now stood before her pleading. It was those visions that had exacerbated his need for the Ring. "You would ask me to save the one who tried to take the Ring for himself?"

Aeardis nodded. "He is a good man, Lady Galadriel. Had I been able to heal him further then I would not have come here. Please," her voice cracked into a trembling whisper. Galadriel stepped forward, having just observed the change that she saw within the daughter of Tol Eressëa.

"Let me see your hands, child." Aeardis offered her hands up and she gentle clasped them, startled by just how cold her skin had turned. "The Light of the Eldar has left you," she said, grim and knowing, but there was hope in her voice still. The Lady of the Wood looked up through the canopy and at the light of the stars. "The Valar now sing anew, listen closely and you can hear it." Galadriel released her hands and stepped back, she looked down at Aeardis. "He will be tended to." Relief flooded through her body and she nigh began to cry once more.

Two elleths stood guard before panels of white silk that had been pulled too. They both bowed their heads as Aeardis approached and pulled back the curtain. Boromir lay on a bed of white, his chest bare of even dressings as one of the healers still tended to the deepest of the wounds. Aeardis stood over him and reached out to take his hand. It pained her to see him in this state. He was Captain of the White Tower, Steward-Prince to Gondor, Boromir the Brave and Tall, he should not have been in such a state. A single arrow may bring down the mightiest of men and he was pierced by many.

The skin around each of the three bloody scabs had a blackish hue, it was from the poison. She moved to sit at his bedside and rested her hand on his chest. It gave her comfort to feel the steady beat of his heart beneath her palm. "He will survive, my lady," the healer said, startling her, "but his recovery will be long." She nodded, biting down on her lip and the healer bowed his head, exiting the small private alcove. Now all she had to do was wait and waiting was the hardest part of all, it always had been.

Translations:

De nestathol. - Please heal him