Author's Note: I know, I left something out of their talk, when Boromir dies but I couldn’t really understand it for english is not my motherlanguage. If you know all of the talk, please let me know and give some peace to my soul who cannot stop thinking about it and spends a lot of money to see the movie over and over again until I finally will understand it! LOL!

Ok, but now enjoy and don’t cry too much!

Disclaimer: I do not own one of them, for they belong to J.R.R. Tolkien and the actors belong to themselves or just a little bit to Peter Jackson. The Idea is not much my own, for it is mostly from the movie. I have seen it a few times to often and thought about, what would happen to Boromir after he dies, how he would feel. How Aragorn would feel over his loss.

Rise and Fall of a Hero

By Jesse

       

The Uruk-Hai had raised his bow. The Arrow flew straight and hit his target well for it was meant to bring death to the man who conquered him. Grown beyond the height of men- straight- limbed and strong, fearing nothing stood the figure, crossed from orcs and goblin men... perfected.

Boromir reached for his chest; the pain was almost unbearable. Pippins and Merrys cries echoed in his ears. He raised his sword again and battled down his next Attacker. No one could made things undone but here and now he was Boromir, a man from the ancient Kingdom of Gondor and he would not let his friends die until all his strength had left him.

He cried out with the sudden pain of another arrow, which had stabbed his chest. A deep breath escaped his lounges and a thousand needles seemed to pierce through him. But yet, he was not defeated and again his sword struck down one of the Uruk-Hai, feeling the air stirring beneath his head where the weapon had hardly missed him.

Another arrow was set and hit his target as well as the others before. And this time there was nothing more Boromir could do. He went down on his knees, his sword tightly clenched but hardly able to breath. Deep shadows dwelled in front of his eyes and as from very far away he heard a scream...

Full of anger and deeply hurt by what they’ve just seen, the two Hobbits overtook their fear, raised their swords and came to help the Warrior of Gondor. But yet, for they were so small with such stout hearts... there was nothing Merry and Pippin could do against the evil they faced. One moment later they were unarmed and lifted up... dragged away to what would be their darkest time. The son of Gondor watched them... helplessly and near to death. No more he could do!

A tall figure, born in the depth of Mount Doom, stood before him. With a lot of effort Boromir raised his head and stared weary eyes at him, bloody shadows obstructed his sight. The Uruk-Hai raised his bow for he was meant to give a final shot to finish it all. His eyes told Boromir his last minute had come as a tall, dark man came for his rescue.

Aragorn, who saw his friend being prepared to die, faced the ugly creature to bring him the death meant for Boromir. His heart was full of sorrow for his friend and there was also anger for he came too late to help him. His blows were full of strength but his opponent was not easy to defend. Bleeding and aching he went down on his knees raising his sword Anduril with all strength left and cut of the Uruk-Hai's arm. Distracted by it the creature wasn’t fasts enough as Aragorn struck him again right through the chest. But the evil blood flowing through him would not let the Uruk-Hai’s strength fading. The Ranger watched in Horror as the beast pushed himself deeper onto Andurils blade to give a final blow and kill Aragorn. Quickly he pulled out his sword. Swoosh, a fast blow and relieved he watched the head roll of the shoulders. Aragorn had won!

Boromir!

A few steps brought him close to his friend and holding him in his arms he helped the wounded man lay down. His heart was filled with sorrow and pain as he saw the proud warrior leaving this world behind to walk on a new path, only chosen for him. Death shone already in his eyes though there was still a little life left in Boromir. He struggled to get up, but Aragorn bed him to lay still and save what strength was left. The Ranger heard footsteps come running and then, how they stopped. Gimli, son of Gloin and Legolas, son of Thranduil of the Woodland Realm had arrived at the place, what would be soon a graveyard for one more Hero.

‘Frodo, where is Frodo?’ Boromir asked anxious.

The Ranger's voice was sad.

‘I let Frodo go!’

Boromir held on to Aragorn. His breathing sounded harsh and painful.

‘Then you did what I could not. I tried to take the ring from him...!’

'The Ring is beyond our reach now.’

Aragorn's voice was calm for his friend’s sake.

‘Forgive me... I did not see. I have failed you all!’

Boromir's voice faded slowly with these words.

Aragorn's voice was filled with unwilling tears as he shook his head and answered.

‘No Boromir... you fought bravely. You’ve kept your honour!’

‘Leave it...it is over!’ Boromir was fading away. He reached for his sword and Aragorn laid it in his hand and with one last big effort, the son of Gondor pulled it to his chest where his heart was.

Tears ran now freely over the stricken face of the Ranger. The pain to see his friend die and though not being able to help him let him give a promise to Boromir.

‘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... Our people...’

Boromir sounded as he was already far beyond the reach from life. Thus his eyes focused one last time on Aragorn, the son of Arathorn. His voice was merely a whisper and even for the sharp Ranger ears hard to hear.

‘I would have followed you my brother... my captain... my king...’

His voice broke and all life had left him as Aragorn could see in his eyes. Tears streamed down the Ranger's face and let two clean paths on the dirty face behind. Softly he bent down and kissed Boromir's forehead.

"Be in peace, son of Gondor.’ His voice broke at these words. He’d lost a true and honourable friend.

       

Burying him in these woods, where the blood of the evil creature, which had brought him dead, was shed all over and far away from the white city, the town of Gondor, was out of question. Laid down in one of their boats, his sword, which was held in his hands over his chest, he was set onto the great river, Anduin. May his path would lead him to a better place far beyond the agony of the living.

As the River took him a great feeling of loss came over Aragorn. Frodo gone, bearing the burden of the ring now on his own and this great man, lost for life... it gave him a great deal of grief.

He told the rest of the fellowship to rest and regain their strength, for they would need it. But he himself was not able to find some sleep and peace for his tortured mind. For him, grieve was still too new, as Legolas said in Lothlorien. He wandered along in the woods, holding watch for what evil might come again, but he could see or hear nothing. After standing on one spot, listening to what the woods would tell him he let out a deep gasp. His feet would no longer carry him, as the pain was too much to bear. Aragorn sat down; his face buried in his hand as to shield himself from the entire world around him. Painful memories crossed his mind and he was not able to keep them away.

He saw Gandalf the grey fell, clinging one last moment onto the broken bridge of Karzhad-Dum. He heard his voice echo in his ears as he gave them one final order:

‘Fly you fools!’

Just before he fell deep in the shadows of Moria, where the Balrog had fallen into. As this memory faded he saw Frodo's scared face in front of his own, as he was running away from Boromir whom tried to take the Ring from him. He remembered their talk.

‘Where is the Ring?’ he had asked him and Frodo commanded him:

‘Stay away!’

His face stricken with terror and disbelief in the man in front of him.

‘Frodo! I swore to protect you...’ His voice was urging him to believe his, Aragorn's words.

‘Can you protect me from yourself? Would YOU destroy it?’ Frodo had asked.

He stepped closer to the Hobbit. He heard dark voices calling in his head. Aragorn, take it... But he had closed Frodo's Hand over the Ring, holding it for a second. Looking up, he saw the fear was gone from Frodo's face and he said with agonise:

‘I would have gone with you to the end...’

Frodo had interrupted him with his soft voice, now filled with trust and sorrow, for he knew, what he’d to do.

‘I know. Look after the other, especially Sam, he will not understand!’

And he remembered the blue streak on Frodo's sword Sting, a sign, the orcs were close... And so he had sent him away, alone with the burden to carry the One Ring into the Fires of Mount Doom in the Heart of Mordor.

As this memory vanished he saw Boromir again. His dying and his pain... not so much because of his wounds but of the thought he’d failed them all. Sobs escaped his chest and his shoulders shuddered under his cries. He hoped nothing more than he had taken this thought away from him with his last words that he was able to tell him.

He sat there for a long time and it seemed he’d dozed of. He woke as a soft touch to his shoulder irritated his sleep. He ought to dream as he saw Boromir, who looked at him with a smile.

‘Yes, indeed, you are dreaming but it doesn’t matter. Listen to what I say for it will take away some of your pain! I shall go soon to a land beyond your reach and were no mortal man can follow. I will meet all great Kings of Gondor and will be welcome in their reign. That’s what they told me. But before I go you shall know that I do not believe I failed you nor will I go with sorrow in my heart. At least I’ve withstand the call of the Ring even it’d cost my life.

I was glad to have you at my side in those last moments. Though I have not been given the chance to return, I still will have peace in my heart, for I had such wonderful friends beside me. How dearly I will miss you Ranger!’

With a last smile his form was fading into a cloud of dust until no more of him was to be seen. Aragorn woke with a start as someone called his name loudly and obviously very near. Legolas fell down on his knees in front of him, his hands grabbing hold of Aragorn's shoulders. Dark brown eyes, filled with worry came into his sight; a soft voice touched his ears.

‘Are you all right, my friend? We were worried after all what happened and you were gone for such a long time!’

The Ranger couldn’t help but press his face deep in the Elves shoulder, wrapping his arms around his waist. Strong arms encircled him and were given him strength, he needed more than ever in this moment. He took one deep breath and another, still the arms around him. Finally he let go of Legolas and looked up into his face.

‘I will be, my friend, I will be!’

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