𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 | 𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐑

Chapter 16

All was quiet as the dwarf, the elf and the man put our fallen friend to rest in one of the boats, his sword rests with him, his shield is above his head and his split horn at his side. The sun watching the sad reeds rustle and the ever-moving stream rippling against the shoreline. All seemed asleep and peaceful in the world, which only made my thoughts grow louder in the hushed silence.

"Through Rohan over fen and field where the long grass grows...

The West Wind comes walking, and about the walls, it goes.

'What news from the West, O wandering wind, do you bring to me tonight?

Have you seen Boromir the Tall by moon or by starlight?

'I saw him ride over seven streams, over waters wide and grey,

I saw him walk in empty lands until he passed away...

Into the shadows of the North, I saw him then no more.

The North Wind may have heard the horn of the son of Denethor,

'O Boromir! From the high walls westward I looked afar,

But you came not from the empty lands where no men are..."

When he was on guard defending, making plans, or in battle, he never got time to think. Never time to think about his faults, his family, the fact that he could die in a few seconds, but especially about the happy moments of his life and how quickly they could slip from his grasp. He almost looked forward to times when those thoughts would be driven from his mind when he could go headfirst into a skirmish without ruminations. I knew he hated himself all the more for that.

Now though, now was when the thoughts crept back in, almost cautiously as if scared to see what effect they will make, when... They come flooding in, swirling around until they are all I can think of, and break I do.

I never get the time to cry, things these days are always almost too terrible to cry, that my mind gets numb and my heart squeezes, but I get used to it. Yet I am but a woman, tho immortal. I can only struggle through so many days without the tears falling as they did when I was young. I liked to think crying so much when I was younger made my tears dry up as I grew, but no, I'm only stronger after all that sadness, already knowing how it feels to have that dizzy, helpless sensation of distraught.

"From the mouths of the Sea the South Wind flies, from the sandhills and the stones,

The wailing of the gulls it bears, and at the gate it moans...

'What news from the South, O sighing wind, do you bring to me at eve?

Where now is Boromir the Fair? He tarries and I grieve.

'Ask not of me where he doth dwell, so many bones there lie...

On the white shores and the dark shores under the stormy sky,

So many have passed down Anduin to find the flowing Sea.

Ask of the North Wind news of them the North Wind sends to me!

'O Boromir! Beyond the gate the seaward roads runs south,

But you came not with the wailing gulls from the grey sea's mouth..."

Suddenly, as teardrops filled my vision, a shape appeared where before there had been only calm water. Something was gliding along the river, and I quickly cleared my eyes before standing up, alert and with my hand at the hilt of my axe. To my bewilderment, I realized that it was a figure, looking at us from the water, it glimmered white and a pale light seemed to be about it.