Come with
me where chains will never bind you
All your
grief at last, at last behind you
Lord in
Heaven, look down on him in mercy
Forgive him
all his trespasses
And take
him to Your glory
Take my
hand, I’ll lead you to salvation
Take my
love, for love is everlasting
And
remember the truth that once was spoken
To love
another person is to see the face of God
- Les
Miserables
Aragorn kneeling to his right and Jason to his
left, Boromir lay on the ground… four thick-shafted arrows protruding sharply
from his chest, each stained crimson with fresh blood. He was deathly pale, his lips slowly turning
white and, although Kate could not make out his exact words, she could hear the
desperate pain in his voice as blood filled his collapsing lungs. He was dying before their eyes.
Kate froze, her bow falling from her nerveless
hand. Legolas and Gimli joined her in
stunned silence, their spirited banter ceasing in a second. She could hear Aragorn say something about
the White City… about not letting their people fail. Boromir struggled to remain alert, bringing the hilt of his
blood-blackened sword to his chest in homage, apparently accepting the dark ranger
as his King.
A quick, honorable kiss to the dying
Gondorian’s forehead and Aragorn backed away, thoughtfully allowing Boromir and
Jason a few final moments. Kate bit
back a sob as the two drew closer, their foreheads touching gently. In such close proximity to the bruised and
bearded Boromir, Jason looked achingly young with his clean-shaven face and
wide eyes… almost like an elf himself.
Legolas’ hands slipped onto her shoulders tenderly. As Jason and Boromir shared one last kiss,
Kate leaned back against Legolas’ chest, closing her eyes and taking comfort in
his strong, steady heartbeat.
Boromir was dead… but it could have easily
been any of them to fall under the orcs’ attack. It could have been Jason, or herself… or Legolas. Watching her beloved cousin lose his so
recently-discovered lover… Kate felt a deep pang of guilt. She and Legolas both had profound feelings
for each other, unlike anything she had ever experienced before. If it had been either one of them who had
come under such a brutal attack…they would have missed out on an intense and
possibly life-long love. And why? Because she was too timid to accept the
elf’s attentions? Because she was
afraid of this strange, new world?
Because some part of her wanted to go home?
Every hour, that desire in her heart to go
back grew more dim… like the echo of a song that she half-knew and recognized
only in passing. She placed a hand over
one of Legolas’ and squeezed softly before moving away from him.
She slowly approached her abject cousin as he
slumped, Boromir’s hand still in his.
Jason’s shoulders shook as he struggled to remain steadfast in the face
of his lover’s death. She could feel
his heart breaking under the new burden… no one in their family evenly remotely
close had ever died… and certainly none had been taken by violence. Kate knelt behind Jason, wrapping her arms
around him gently.
“Jason… grieve. There’s no reason to keep your sorrow a secret.” She whispered,
stroking his hair.
He broke then, leaning forward towards
Boromir’s still-warm body, one hand tentatively stroking the other man’s face,
as though vainly searching for some sign of life. But the reddened arrows jutting out from Boromir’s chest did not
lie… he was dead.
“I should… I should have been there… he was
looking for Pip and Merry… I volunteered to go after Sam… when the orcs
attacked… why? I should’ve stayed with
him! I knew he was upset about
Frodo! I shouldn’t have left him!” he
sobbed dispiritedly.
“No, Jason.
You could not have done anything to change this.” She insisted.
“Katie… it’s like September 11th
all over again! Why was he taken and I
was spared? Why couldn’t it have been
the other way around? He was much
braver than me… better skilled… why am I still here and he’s not?” he roared
suddenly, tears marking his face pale through the dirt.
“I don’t know, Jay… no one does.” She sighed,
massaging his shoulders gently. “That’s
what faith and hope are for, I guess.”
“Hope… he said that his people… the people of
Gondor had no hope left… that he wanted-wanted to restore it…” Jason said,
still weeping.
Aragorn stepped forward. “And restore it we shall, Jaycen… with your
help, I can keep my vow to him not to let the White City fall.”
Kate rose, allowing the exiled king to kneel
next to Jason and take his hands. “Will
you honor Boromir’s memory and help me?
As you loved him… then show the same devotion to that which he loved so
dearly.”
Jason swallowed the last of his cries and met
Aragorn’s eyes evenly, comforted by the tears that still shone. “With all my heart… I will.”
“Come…” Katie said gently. “We will not leave him on the forest floor
for the scavengers.”
“But the ground is too hard.” Gimli protested
softly, for once not wanting to sound gruff.
“And we have no tools for digging a grave.”
“We will not dig a grave.” Kate replied,
pulling Jason into a standing position.
“Jason… you said he was fascinated by your tales of the Vikings… do you
think a Viking burial would please him?”
A slight smile through the tears. “I do… thanks, cuz.”
With help, Jason managed to arrange Boromir’s
body in one of the Lorien boats, his hands clasped over the hilt of his sword
as it rested over his heart. Kate
cleaned him as best she could, wiping his face and hands clear of dirt, sweat,
and blood. She even went so far as to
comb the Gondorian’s hair so that it settled into light brown locks around his
handsome face. It was Jason and Aragorn
who slowly pushed the boat out onto the Anduin. As the two returned ashore to watch the boat disappeat with the
river’s current, over the edge of a great waterfall, Kate closed her eyes, a
song already forming in her heart and begging to be sent into the air on an
Elvish voice.
It was a song she had heard over a dozen times
in the Imperial Theater in New York… the finale from Les Miserables, starting
with the angelic Fantine and continuing with the entire cast. Jason, grieved though he was, managed to
join her, his own sensual tenor complimenting her voice gently. To Kate’s great surprise, Legolas took up a
placid counterpoint, his quavering voice and native tongue adding a new,
otherworldly quality to the Broadway musical’s aching lament. Aragorn and Gimli stood in respectful
silence, heads bowed thoughtfully.
Jason was the first to cease, remorse stealing
his voice from the final notes. Kate
finished the Les Miz selection and then merged her voice with Legolas’,
singing soft syllables under the Quenya.
The two elves joined hands, their voices beseeching the Valar to look
after Boromir’s soul and soothe the wounded spirits of those left behind.
They stood in silence for a long while, until
Aragorn broke the reverie by pointed across the river to where Frodo and Sam
were hurrying away from their boat.
“Now where do they think they’re going?” Kate
wondered aloud.
“If we make haste, we may catch up to them.”
Legolas said as he began to push the remaining boat into the water. When Aragorn made n move to follow, he
paused. “You mean… not to go after
them?”
“Frodo’s fate is no longer in our hands.”
Aragorn sighed, slowly handing Boromir’s leather gauntlets to Jason. The still silent human took them gratefully,
slipping them on.
“Then.. it has all been in vain. The Fellowship has failed.” Gimli grumbled
as Legolas looked between his comrades, clearly distressed.
Aragorn shook his dark head, gathering
everyone into a circle. “Not so long as
we hold true to each other. We will not
leave Merry and Pippin to torment and death.
Not while we still have strength left.”
“Damn straight.” Jason finally spoke, clapping
Aragorn on the back.
“I’m in.” Kate
nodded.
“Come then, leave everything that can be
spared behind. We will travel light.”
Aragorn instructed, gathering his weapons up.
“Let us hunt some orc.”
Legolas and Kate looked at Gimli
questioningly. The dwarf answered with
a challenging roar proclaiming his desire for the fight.
Taking only what they could carry, they struck
off in the direction the orcs had gone, searching for clues as they went. The trail was easy enough to follow, for the
orcs took no pains to cover their tracks, broken branches and trampled
vegetation marked their passage clearly.
Kate and Legolas led, nimbly weaving through
the trees and over the odd rock. Kate
was almost starting to enjoy being an elf; the agility was a definite bonus and
with battle-fired adrenaline running through her veins, she felt as though she
could well into the night. It was only
the steadfast and somber expression on her cousin’s face that kept her in
check.
“Here!” Legolas called out, seizing upon
something on the ground. A cloak-clasp,
shaped like a green leaf and slightly tarnished on the left side.
“That’s Pippin’s.” Kate insisted. “He’s been toying with it since he got it in
Lothlorien… that’s why it’s discolored.”
“This was not torn off.” Legolas thought
aloud. “It was dropped deliberately.”
“He’s leaving us a trail to follow… see how
the group broke off into two? Pippin’s
brooch is his way of telling us which way they took him and Merry.” Jason
nodded.
“Let us follow that way then… night is falling
fast.” Aragorn ordered.