Author: Sam

Story: Leather-bound: 11 of ?

Series: n/a

Setting: Lothlorien as seen in The Red Book of Westmarch.

Video Note: A video has been made for this fiction. Please visit http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2NZKs5cWXmg

Song Note: Kiss From A Rose by Seal.

Feedback: Yes, please? Especially constructive. samwise_baggins@yahoo.co.uk

Webpage: http://www.oocities.org/samwise_baggins/index.html

After the horror of Moria, it was hard to release the anxiety and fear, even in the peaceful glade of Lothlorien. The mournful lament for Gandalf still rose and fell around the weary, battered party as they settled among the roots of the great mallorn trees. The Dwarf, Gimli, dropped off into instant sleep, his snores discordant with the unsettling, beautiful song. As the Hobbits conversed in sad voices, Legolas, the Elf, disappeared among the trees to join is fellows in their grieving. Samwise Gamgee, one of the Hobbits, had just attempted his own addition to the lament, but sank back to the ground, distressed at his lack of true majesty when compared to the haunting tune all around. He slowly joined the other Hobbits in their recollections.

Aragorn, one of the two Humans in the small group, started to settle back against the mighty trunk of the mallorn sheltering him. He glanced around and swiftly sat up once more. Boromir, the other Man, was missing. He had slipped away like their Elven companion. Recalling Boromir's haunted, hunted expression, the ranger resolved to find the man and to help ease his private torments if he could.

It was a matter of moments, really, when Aragorn found the grief-stricken Human on the other side of a stand of mallorns. He had his head bent in dejection, arms resting on his knees with hands dangling between his legs. The blond man was lost in torturous thoughts, startling easily as Aragorn deliberately drew attention with a rustling sound. Without giving his companion time to reject him, the dark-haired Man sat, rasping out, "You should take some rest while you can. These lands are well protected."

The reply was a bitter shock, full of despair. "There can be no rest for me here."

Boromir, heir to the Stewards of Gondor, turned to his fellow Man, the heir to the Kings of Gondor. His hair hang lank and long, covered in the sweat of their journey. The look in his eyes denoted an uncaring for his personal health... he was torn, instead, by deeper matters. Before his companion could question his statement, the younger man supplied the answer.

"I heard her voice inside my head. She spoke of my father and the fall of Gondor. She told me that even now there is still hope, but I cannot see it. 'Tis a long time since we had any hope." He bowed his head again, his leather and chain clad body reverberating with his grief, with his failing determination. Boromir had always seemed strong on the journey they undertook, but now he seemed broken, small and helpless. His voice was a reflection of the confusing doubts which filled him.

Not knowing quite what to say, the brunette merely watched the other man, sympathy radiating from him. He wanted to help the man find comfort, but instinctively knew that what Boromir needed most was to talk about his fears and worries. He would listen and withhold his judgement for whatever haunted the Man of Gondor.

"My father is a noble man, but is rule is failing and our... our people lose faith. He looks to me to make things right, and I... I will do it. I will see the glory of Gondor restored."

The words were quiet, hesitant, but heartfelt. Boromir had always been a passionate, intense man, but now it came through in a new way. He was certainly dedicated to his father, his city, his people. But that very dedication appeared to be tearing him apart now, making him unable to rest despite how weary from battle and grief he was. Boromir lifted pained green eyes to his companion, trying to find the words to explain just how important his mission was, how important saving his people was. He tried to relay exactly what his city meant to him.

With slow, yet eager words, as if trying to paint a picture for the other Man, Boromir started talking. He leaned forward, the dejection subsiding in the momentary need to help Aragorn see his inheritance the same way Boromir did. His very love for Gondor shone through more than anything else, more than his very words.

"Have you ever seen it, Aragorn?" He gave a fleeting smile, turning his eyes to the far distance, looking at something which no one else could presently see. "The White Tower of Ecthelion glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver?" His face softened in a faraway smile, an almost dreamy look in his eyes. "It's banners caught high in the morning breeze?" He paused, looking up at Aragorn with shining, dreamy eyes. "Have you ever been called home by the clear ringing of silver trumpets?"

Softly, unwillingly to break the beautiful imagery Boromir has called forth, Aragorn rasped, "I have seen the white city... long ago." He nodded absently as he spoke, his blue eyes locking with the other Man's green. The ranger had to stop himself, however, before he reached out to touch his companion. They were not yet close enough for the Steward's son to welcome even a comforting touch from the man who could usurp his future rule.

The blonde's thoughts seemed to actually parallel the brunettes, but on more easy, forgiving tones. He smiled, clasping Aragorn's muscular forearm, nodding in his enthusiasm for the dream he saw dancing before his eyes. "One day our paths will lead us there, and the tower guard shall take up the call, for the Lords of Gondor have returned."

Aragorn smiled hesitantly, unwillingly to encourage the other Man in the fantasy, as he wasn't sure if he would ever go back to Gondor. He wasn't quite willing yet, and at the moment he was dedicated to the quest and protecting Frodo. Boromir seemed not to mind, however, as he let go of Aragorn and let himself become lost in thought once more.

Slowly, Aragorn stood, pondering what they'd talked about, what was so very important to Boromir. He walked away, lost in deep thought. The ranger was unaware that he left Boromir is as serious musings, comforted a little, but sill absorbed in thoughts of his beloved Gondor and the possible fate that awaited it... awaited them all.