~Boromir~

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~You save his life, with a cost.~

You were back to back with Boromir, hyper-aware that he was touching you. You thrust your sword through the face of one Uruk-Hai and slashed the throat of another. "Duck!" You yelled to Boromir. He did so just in time, as your throwing knife was embedded between the eyes of one of the Uruks.

Merry and Pippin started launching rocks at some of the ugly brutes. To your surprise, they were doing a pretty good job.

You caught sight of a bigger Uruk at the top of the hill. He was aiming an arrow at Boromir. You stepped in front of it, taking the arrow in your shoulder. You grunted, continuing to hack away at the beasts, keeping them away from Merry and Pippin, who were glancing worriedly at you. Boromir only just noticed the arrow protruding from your shoulder, and doubled his efforts. "Your horn, Boromir!" You panted. "Blow it!"

Boromir gave a few puffs of air into the cloven horn of yours and his city, calling the others for aid.

Another arrow flew towards an unknowing Boromir, and you took it in your stomach, dropping to your knees in front of the hobbits. "[Y/N]," they whispered.

Boromir was panicking, fighting off the Uruks in order to protect you.

You grunted, lifting yourself to your feet, and swinging your sword at the Uruk-Hai with renewed force.

This time, the Uruk was aiming for you, and embedded the arrow in your other shoulder. You fell to your knees.

Some Uruks took Merry and Pippin, and all you could do was watch as they carried your friends away. They were staring at you, squirming against the beasts. They watched you helplessly as they were carried away.

You fell backwards, and Boromir was behind you, catching you before you hit the ground.

The Uruk with the bow and arrows stood over you, an arrow aimed at your heart. You just stared blankly at him, waiting for death.

A sword came crashing down on him. Aragorn, you thought, slumping farther into Boromir. And you were right. Aragorn killed the Uruk, fighting off some of the others as Boromir gently laid you down in his arms, brushing your long hair out of your face.

"You took those arrows for me," he said, resting his hand on your cheek.

"I didn't want to see you hurt," you whispered, feeling your strength starting to leave you.

"But now you're hurt." A tear dribbled down his cheek, and you reached up and brushed it away.

"Boromir, you need to return to our city. To Gondor. Make your father proud." It was getting harder for you to breathe. "Be there for Faramir."

Boromir shook his head. "Stop talking like that, [Y/N]. You're going to go home, you're going to live," he said, going to pull an arrow from your shoulder.

"No Boromir. It is already done. There is no help for me," you said, weakly laying your hand over his to stop it.

He was crying harder now. "You cannot leave me, [Y/N]. I love you. I love you," He said, holding you tighter to him.

Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli were standing a few feet away, heads down in respect, tears falling to the forest floor.

"And I love you, Boromir. I will always love you..." You weakly rested your hand on his cheek, and he leaned down quickly and pressed his lips to yours.

Your hand fell from his cheek, landing on the leaf-covered forest floor, palm up. As if welcoming death.

Boromir wept over your body, gently pulling the arrows from it, as if you could still feel pain.

"May she find peace in death," Legolas whispered in elvish, loud enough for Aragorn to hear, but still quiet, as if he would wake you from your eternal sleep.

A hand fell on Boromir's shoulder, and he looked up at Aragorn with wet eyes, his hand still cupping your pale cheek.

"Why her?" He asked. "Out of all of us, why did it have to be her?"

Aragorn let a tear drop from his face. "I don't know."

You were laid to rest in one of the boats, your hands wrapped around the hilt of your sword. Boromir pressed one last kiss to your cold lips before watching as the water carried you away from him.

•••

A/N:

Who else is sobbing like a baby?

*Raises hand*

Gosh, what is with me and all these depressing imagines?!

You have permission to smack me. Just not the face!

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