What if Boromir's ghost visited Frodo? A small fanfic in the form of a poem:)
~*~Wings~*~
My friends do not see him in this haven of healing tall, yet conquered like a staff bearing his enemy’s flag naught in his eyes but ruined towers, dead horses, a naked question. Forgive me,he says though his lips do not move. I did not see. A madness took me its foot on my back its claws in my neck its wings in my ears my hands rebelled mutinous servants of a master impounded. I failed, little one, I have suffered, I have paid in coins of lava and blood…
I smile, he approaches as if bags of sand were tied to his feet. I hold out my hand and he takes it like a wounded bird in both his own as he sits by my side. His hands, though strong, are wounded birds also fettered and thirsting. The tenderness lodges like wool in my throat as I say, I know the wings of that madness too well I have failed also my eyes were eclipsed. The knowledge will snap like a rabid dog for all my days. Forgive yourself, brother you have done well. I shall remember only your valor, your tree your love for your people which commanded your steps as it commanded my own even as they strayed. Our cities shine in victorious mists like a mother and child newly born in a night of fiendish travail. Raise your flag, be at peace.
He smiles, kisses my hand pressing it hard but I feel no pain he takes it with him like an irksome glove; it frets me no more. Flocks of doves rise from his eyes and brush me with feathers of sanity and music as he recedes in pools of skyshine like an eagle whose day in the sun has arrived.
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