Chapter Ten -- Accomplished
Boromir, Faramir, and Gannellas broke their fast in what remained of the dining pavilion. It had been stripped bare. Boromir shuddered. The skeletal remains reminded him of what he might become this day.
Faramir stood. "I think it is time we left, Boromir. We have a long ride ahead of us. We should try to reach Erech by tomorrow."
"The horses are packed and ready, Boromir. Let us leave here." Gannellas smiled. "I packed your flute."
Boromir smiled back, though he knew the smile did not reach his eyes. Fear's tendrils ran from his heart through his veins and to his extremities. "I thank you, friend." He tried to imbue a touch of sarcasm in his voice, but failed miserably.
Faramir stepped to his side. "It will be well, Boromir. You will pass the borders of Edhellond and live. I know the Valar heard our plea. I know they did."
Boromir nodded. "Of course."
"Now, friend," Gannellas grasped Boromir's shoulders. "We will do this together. We will lead the horses behind us and walk together through the mists. If aught happens to you, it will happen to us all."
"I do not want that." Boromir's voice was firm, he was relieved to note. "I will walk through the mists first. When I call for you, you will follow me. Come." He made as if to walk, then jumped on his horse and clicked, glad for the discomfiture on Gannellas' face, but sorrowful as he watched Faramir's fall.
It is the only way. I cannot have Faramir die by my side. Nor can I have him watch me die.
He heard Faramir's cry, but spurred the horse onwards. As he reached the borders, he saw the mists, swirling ahead of him. A chill filled the air. He saw his breath before him. Now or never, he thought and kicked the horse's withers. The horse tried to rear, but Boromir would not let it throw him. "We go through this together. You have naught to fear. By the end of this journey, you will either be relieved of your burden, or you will find I am hugging you with joy." He snapped the reins and rode into the mists.
The cold took his breath from him. Is this how I am to die? Bereft of air? He shuddered and his horse shied to the left. Boromir tightened the reins and drew his horse back to where they had veered off the path. "Hold steady, friend. We will get through this." He rode on, drawing on whatever courage he had gained through the years.
"I will trust, Elrond. Whether I live or no, I will trust that he did what was needed. If I am to live or die, I have done what the Valar wanted from me. Look," he laughed out loud, "I am talking to myself. I haven't talked to myself since my first battle. I was so afraid. My knees knocked together so loudly, I was sure the enemy would hear." He looked down at his horse. "My talking calms you, does it? It does me, as well. I never told Faramir of how frightened I was. He looked up to me. In my pride, I did not want to be found lacking in his eyes. It would have been better if I had told him of my fears. It would have prepared him for his own first battle."
Boromir squinted. "Does it look lighter to you? I think I see daylight." He gasped. "We have done it. We have reached the other side. There is the coastline. Do you see it?" He slipped from the saddle and knelt on the ground. Cardinals sang nearby. A horn sounded in the distance. "Oromë?" The horn sounded again and Boromir's heart lifted. "Thank you," he whispered.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.