Disclaimer: LOTR belongs to the creative genius of JRR Tolkien, not me.

A/N: To my loyal readers, please forgive the delay in updating, but again illness has kept me from my muses (and my computer). Rest assured I will not leave this ( or any fic I write) unfinished.

From the Shadows

Chapter 7.

There was no doubt news of Boromir’s miraculous rebirth would be most welcome to the citizens of the White City, as well as the members of the Fellowship who still resided there, but Aragorn realised that secrecy was required for now. It would be cruel to fill the hearts of Boromir’s faithful friends, admirers and soldiers with false hopes given the uncertainty surrounding his ailing health. There was no need to impart the unpleasant knowledge that perhaps death yet awaited the brave son of Gondor.

“We will leave as soon as my meeting with the trade delegation ends,” Aragorn said after he and Legolas exchanged a glance that was a silent communication between close friends. They would travel together, but not tonight although neither former ranger nor Elf would have been hindered by the darkness of night. Legolas knew without being told that the reason for the delay was simply that the King had unfinished business to attend to on the morrow.

“Will not the visiting traders think it unusual for both King and Steward to leave so abruptly?” Faramir asked as he sat behind Aragorn’s desk and cast a critical eye over the speech his King had been working on. The wording was basically sound, but a few minor adjustments as to the terms of trade seemed appropriate to Faramir’s way of thinking.

“The Steward will not be leaving,” Aragorn said, raising his hand to silence the protest he knew his surprised Steward was about to voice as he looked sharply up from the paperwork. “I am sorry Faramir, I know you want to come with us, but I must ask that you remain in Minas Tirith and see to our guests in my absence. Besides, who better than you is there to make suitable preparations for Boromir’s return? ” Aragorn added placing a comforting hand on his Steward’s shoulder.

Although the elder brother had been groomed for that particular role, and fate had forced it upon the younger, duty and honour were deeply ingrained in the hearts of both the sons of Denethor.

“Aye, and I will do as you command, Sire,” he replied with a respectful bow. Faramir had always performed whatever task was asked of him, no matter whether it angered, frustrated or sometimes hurt him to do so, and this time was no different. He would reluctantly do his King’s bidding knowing that Boromir would never forgive him were he to forsake his obligations as Steward. “However, I think it best to wait and see if Boromir chooses to come home before any celebrations are planned,” Faramir whispered sadly, uncertain whether even the King’s influence would be enough to sway his brother’s stubborn mind if he decided to remain in self imposed exile.

“I will do my best to see that he does,” Aragorn vowed as if he could read the younger man’s thoughts. Faramir managed a small half smile in response to his King’s confidant words, and then resumed his perusal of the speech. It was already close to midnight and the sooner it was completed, the sooner they could retire to their chambers for the sleep needed before the long day ahead. Legolas was obviously of a like mind although a walk in the starlight was all the rest he would require.

“I will begin making preparations for our urgent trip to Osgiliath at once,” the Elf informed his friends, draining the last of his wine before taking his leave of the two men. Aragorn smiled his thanks, both for the offer of assistance and the small half-truth that would arouse no suspicion in regards to the King’s sudden departure.

“Osgiliath? You mean to make the journey by river? Without the protection of the King’s Guard?” Faramir queried with a frown of consternation, he had assumed the King’s party would ride straight for Amon Hen from the city.

“The need to make haste in reaching Boromir remains most urgent, and I believe my plans will not garner any protest from the captain of the guard… or perhaps only a token one…?” Aragorn corrected himself when noticed Faramir’s raised eyebrow signifying his disbelief. “Remember, it will not be the first time I have dismissed my royal escort in order to travel alone with Legolas. There is far less danger on the river, but a more compelling reason to do so is Boromir himself. Even should I be successful healing his wounds, he will be probably be unable to sit a horse for the arduous return journey,” Aragorn explained. Faramir nodded, it certainly made sense now that he considered Aragorn’s words. The fast flowing Anduin was definitely the swiftest route, and the one most easily travelled by one in his brother’s weakened condition.

*************

The clearing where Faramir had found his brother several days before held more appeal to Boromir than simply that of an open space suited to sword practice. It was carpeted with sweetly scented wildflowers and thick, green grass that made a comfortable bed on which to lie an aching body. It was here, bathed in the warmth of the morning sun, that he chose to lie down and stretch his weary body, taking the rest Haldir insisted was necessary.

Boromir found he effortlessly drifted into slumber, his dreams at first simply a collage of pleasant childhood memories he and Faramir shared, but as the years flew by like clouds scudding across a stormy sky, the images became darker and more disturbing.

Boromir soon saw himself riding through the streets of his beloved city, but rather than being welcomed home as Gondor’s long lost son, the people were pelting him with refuse instead of flowers, calling him a coward and shouting at Boromir for having deserted them in their time of need. “You know they speak the truth,” a dark voice inside his mind said and Boromir began to turn away, only to have his way blocked by his beloved little brother.

“Stay Boromir, please,” Faramir begged as he reached out to take his brother’s hand but try as he might, he could not seem to grasp hold of it.

“ I cannot, I am unworthy…” Boromir whispered as slowly they drifted apart, Faramir seeming to float towards the citadel, while he moved towards the gates.

“You are well loved and missed by all,” Faramir insisted, tears filling his eyes as he vainly reached out to his brother. “Don’t leave me again!” Faramir shouted in a voice wracked with anguish and pain. “Boromir!” Faramir’s final shout was one of desperation as the gates of the city finally closed behind his lost brother, and it startled Boromir awake.

Or had it been Haldir who now sat beside him who had called his name? He did not really know because his mind was still hazy with sleep. All he knew for certain was that he could not bear to see the anguish in his brother’s eyes or to be the cause of his pain. No matter the cost to his pride, or his health, he would do as duty and his heart demanded and return to his city, his brother and his King.

“You have reached a decision. You intend to return to your city.” Haldir observed as he helped Boromir sit and settle comfortably against the trunk of the tree he was lying beneath. It was not a question but a statement of fact.

“You told me Elves cannot read minds,” Boromir replied with a smile.

“Nor can we, but I can sometimes sense your stronger feelings, especially when your dreams are of the darker kind.” Haldir explained as he reached for his pack and taking two cups and a wineskin from it, poured them both a cup.

“I have decided to attempt to return to Minas Tirith with Aragorn, although I fear my body will not survive the journey, ” Boromir said with genuine regret as he accepted the wine Haldir offered.

“My friend, do not underestimate the healing powers of your King, or those of the former Kings who dwell here in spirit. My Lady certainly does not, it is the very reason she sent me to bring you here,” the Elf explained, knowing the time had come for total honesty with this man he called friend. “I would not presume to question her wisdom or her powers of foresight and nor should you.” The words were serious but spoken with great affection both for the Lady and Boromir and the man realised no insult was intended.

“Nay, that I certainly will not do, my friend,” Boromir replied, remembering how exposed he had felt when Galadriel looked into his very heart and soul when he first arrived in Lothlórien. It had been unsettling to realise she knew him like no other, not even Faramir, and it still was, but she did not condemn him for his weakness. Galadriel had seen beyond his darker side, beyond the part of him that was slowly being seduced by the Ring to the proud and honourable man he truly was.

Elf and Man sat in silence for a time, enjoying the wine and the warm camaraderie of friendship until Boromir decided to speak.

“This is an excellent vintage, from Lord Celeborn’s own cellar if I guess correctly?” Boromir said, exercising a little ‘mind reading’ of his own as he savoured the taste of the smooth, sweet liquid that passed his lips. Haldir laughed at the subtle jest and nodded.

“Aye, one of the more pleasant messages our visitor from Lothlórien brought.” Haldir offered no further information so Boromir decided to allow his curiosity full rein.

“What else did he have to say? I take it he also brought ill news?” Haldir was touched by the almost brotherly concern in Boromir’s voice and found he was becoming more inclined to confide in his companion.

“Aye, aside from greetings and messages from my brothers’ and my friends, I also received a missive from my Lord Celeborn detailing the battle at Dol Guldur, the loss of many to Mandos’s halls and the decisions that have been reached in the aftermath.” There was a sudden bitterness in the Elf’s voice and a deep sadness in his eyes that spoke to Boromir of the grief any good leader felt for soldiers he had lost in battle.

“You would rather have been fighting alongside your lord than taking care of a dying Man. I am so sorry for your loss and for keeping you away from where you truly belonged” he stated. The Elf was not the only one who had learned to understand a stranger’s thoughts and feelings.

“There is no need yo apologise. You understand honour and duty, Man of Gondor, and it was my duty serve my Lady as she commanded,” Haldir protested.

“Of course, but we both know that as a warrior and a leader that you would have preferred to have been called to fight.” Haldir nodded, unable to deny the truth and took a lengthy draught of his wine.

“I have also received word that my brothers and I are to return to Lothlórien within the next few weeks. My Lady makes ready to depart for Valinor and we are to be her escorts.”

“Then it is as well that I have decided to return to my home,” Boromir said, happy for his friend but wondering what would have become of himself had he chosen otherwise.

“I was asked to invite you to spend the rest of your days in Lothlórien should you have nowhere else you would rather be,” Haldir said, perceptively answering the unspoken question, a gleam of mischief in his eyes as he locked gazes with a still very sceptical Boromir.

“I thought you said you were leaving for Valinor soon?” Did he really only have a few short weeks to live unless Aragorn could heal him?

“In about a year, not long at all as we Elves measure time.” Or perhaps as much as year?

“Then how… ?” Boromir shook his head in confusion.

“How could you stay in Lothlórien once it was deserted?” Even just saying the words that signalled the death of his beloved Golden Wood brought tears to Haldir’s eyes and Boromir placed a comforting hand on the Elf’s shoulder. The two were kindred spirits in many ways, mot in the least with their love for their respective homes. After taking a moment to regain his composure, Haldir continued speaking. “My lord Celeborn will not be sailing for quite some time. He plans to cross the Great River and set up a colony in the south of Eryn Lasgalen, as Mirkwood had been renamed. As a resident of Lothlórien you would have been welcome to join him there,” Haldir explained.

“I see, then I trust that when you see Lord Celeborn you will offer him my sincere thanks and humble apologies. Please ell him I was truly grateful for the offer, but must decline in favour of returning to my people.” Haldir nodded and offered his friend an apologetic smile for the secret knowledge the Elf possessed.

“I will do as you ask, but be assured my Lord already knows, after all it is the future my Lady has seen for you in her mirror.”