Boromir, Thou Shall Live

By Priscilla Stafford

Author’s Note: Through all of my previous stories, I have had one faithful reviewer and friend, more than I can ask for since I know my stories aren’t ‘the best of the best’. So in honor and dedication to my friend Maria, I write this story “Boromir, Thou Shall Live”. Maria is such a big fan of Boromir and for a long time she’s complained that not too many people have Boromir fanfics where he survives the quest. So, ‘here’s lookin’ at you kid!’

Disclaimer: The world of Middle Earth and all its characters and places belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. Any unfamiliar characters and names belong to me. Example: Isilme, Bawuer, Gelduin, etc.

Summary: This is a story with the main plot of what if Boromir hadn’t been killed by the Uruk-hais? How does his presence affect the future of Middle Earth?

Chapter One: Galadriel’s Choice

Galadriel watched as the boats rowed away. She spoke silently to herself.

“There goes the last hope for Middle Earth.”

The wise Elf absently looked on until she could see them no more. They were gone. And there was nothing more she could do for them.

Nothing she could for the Ring Bearer. All the burden of the Ring was upon him. He could not share the burden, just as she could not ask anyone else to share her burden of being also a ring bearer. Pain and suffering lay in his path now…

Nothing she could do for the descendent of Isildur. He would have to come to his own decision. A strong minded man, yet he was confused, and rightly so. It would be his choice…

Nothing she could do for the faithful hobbit. He had a stout heart, there was nothing more she could say to ensure he would protect his master. But at what cost…

Nothing she could do for the prince of Greenwood. His keen sense would be an asset to the Fellowship. Loyalty to his friends and loyalty to the quest, he will have to hang on to his loyalties…

Nothing she could do for the dwarf. Strong but brash, he too will learn about the cost of loyalty. To what point will he follow his companions….

Nothing she could do for the two hobbits. Eager and naïve, they will have to find out for themselves the gravity of the situation, that all that is loved in Middle Earth, even Hobbiton, was in grave danger…

And last but not in the slightest the least, there was nothing she could do for the Man of Gondor. The mirror had already shown what was to happen. There would be no waiting for him at the tower of Ecthilion. Only death was waiting for him…

Once more she repeated to herself that there was nothing she could do. The Fellowship was gone with her blessing and her gifts, and that was all she could do. Now all she would do is wait and hope. Wait and hope.

But was that all she was required to do, just wait and hope? Was it her destiny that she, Galadriel, would let the past, present, and future control destiny?

No, the mirror was not deceitful, it was how the person who looked upon it and deciphered it. What a task, what a burden, was she right in her thoughts?

And what of the lives of others? Was it her place to decide their fates, their deaths?

Almost without thought, she realized she had once again reached the mirror. But instead of just passing by, she got a sudden urge to look. And look she did.

At first the water was still, not a ripple disturbed the waters. Then in a swirl, an image of the son of Gondor appeared. An image of when she had first spoken into his mind. His eyes were dark and troubled, sweat trickling down his brow. In shame and a bit of fear, he had turned away from her face.

No, Boromir was just like any mortal, greed and power called to him, and the Ring filled his thoughts of both.

Then another image filled the mirror, one where Boromir stood standing next to another man, someone who looked remarkably alike. Brothers, to be sure. They stood with ale in their cups, Boromir toasting to a victory. Both brothers smiled but Galadriel chose to focus on Boromir. His whole face lit up as if even the darkness of Mordor could not put it out.

Galadriel softened at the image until she was bombarded with another image. The son of Gondor lay dead in a boat, floating down a river. And nearby, the brother stood, weeping, the horn of Gondor broken in two in his hands.

Stop, she mentally shouted, then drew back to still her beating heart filled with grief for the two ill fated brothers. Enough, it was enough….

She couldn’t, could she? It wouldn’t be right, she thought to herself. The course of the future cannot be changed.

But who was she to believe in fate, a fate without choice? She would make a choice, then suddenly, she realized she had made a choice. A choice… to save one’s life.

She needed someone she could trust. And only one came to mind…

**********

Haldir never felt cause to rush, but whenever the Lady called him, he felt like rushing. So instead of his usually mild gait, his pace was fast as he glided down the stairs to the gardens where Galadriel often stayed.

But an elf caught his eye as he passed one of the hallways. It was just a quick glance of brown, but he knew upon whose head the hair belonged to.

Isilme seemed in deep discussion with another elf so Haldir chose not to give her his customary greeting.

Unfortunately, always after giving his greetings, he would become at a loss for words. So with the grace acquired from meeting an assortment of elves and sometimes men, he would politely leave.

Why was it whenever he met her face to face, he could not think of any words to say? All he wanted to do was bask in her presence. And if he was graced with even a smile, why it left his heart pounding in his chest puzzled him.

No matter, he couldn’t be troubled with Isilme now, the Lady of the Woods needed him and he would fulfill any duty given to him. It was with a sense of great honor that he accepted any and all duties.

But now as he stood in front of Galadriel, nothing could have prepared him for what she was about to tell him.

“My Lady, you wish for me to follow the Fellowship?”

“You will have no problem finding or catching up with them,” Galadriel spoke with confidence. “And by land you must follow, or you will be found.”

Haldir seldom felt puzzled, other than mystified by his feelings for Isilme. But now, he had to admit he was curious by his task. But still, it was not his place to question his queen.

Galadriel continued to speak. “At one point before they make the final choice for their destination, one member will be struck down. Yes, I see in your face that you wonder who it will be.”

Haldir thought of each and everyone in the Fellowship and spoke his thought out loud, “Who will be lost.”

The Lady Elf shook her head solemnly. “I will not say. All I will say is that if you can save this life, then you have done my will. If you don’t… then it is the way it is supposed to be.”

Such a mysterious answer, but Haldir hadn’t expected otherwise. Galadriel was known for her mysterious ways, it wasn’t his place to question her. He bowed and said in farewell, “Your orders are mine to obey. By your leave…” she nodded her head in dismissal and he began to leave.

But before he could take a few steps he was stopped by a voice in his head. ~The others must never know about it…~ Haldir turned to face Galadriel but saw she was turned away from him, a sad smile upon her lips.

**********

Galadriel watched as Haldir leaped lightly onto the back of his horse. Within moments he cantered off, and soon he was lost among the trees.

May his mission be a success, the Lady of the Woods thought to herself. Her heart felt lighter for the first time since she knew of the renewed discovery of the Ring.

A slight wind came through the trees. Galadriel spoke, her whispered words carried away by the wind, “Have hope Boromir, thou shall live.”

**********

Author’s Note: Hope you like it!

Trivia: The name Isilme means “Moonlight” in the Quenya language of the Elves.

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