Eyther Naarisae (Name change to Kahlin Caladwen

Nindalf was a harsh and treacherous swamp land. Many lost their lives attempting a journey to the other side.

We just so happened to come across it in the dead of night, my foot sinking into the first of many smaller bogs.

Boromir and I had planned on making camp before the marshes but a terrible fog engulfed us before the sun set. We should have stopped but we tread on.

“Well it looks like we won’t be sleeping this night.” Boromir said from beside me. He looked down at my drenched boot, “I’ll soon join you.” We were bound to sink into the wet lands sooner or later, I just managed to do it first.

“We are not far into the wetlands, should we stop and make camp?” I asked Boromir. He was a better judge of danger so I left it up to him to decide.

“If we do make camp we will attract all manner of attention. I say we go on.” He looked back at me.

“Alright.” I agreed.

 

We walked forward, letting the land lead us as there was no path through the marshes and with this fog it was impossible to see where we were going.

“Boromir?” I asked. He acknowledged my questioning with a nod of his head.

“Does your father think you dead?”

“I think he does. But my worry is for my brother Faramir.” He paused a moment in his stride, waiting for me. “Our father is not so fond of my brother as he is me. Yet the fault is mine.”

“How is it your fault?” I wondered. Boromir was about to answer me but couldn’t.

“The fault is your father’s, for being blind. His sons are of the Hurin blood line and come from his own flesh. If he can not love your brother as he does you, it is he who is to blame.”

Boromir settled his grey eyes on me and gave a slight smile. It was the first of any happiness I saw in him and I could not help but smile in return.

“One day you will see how great you truly are Boromir.”

Since no more words were spoken beyond that point we fell into a calm and alert silence. We would be through the marshes by morning but for now we kept quiet and stayed on our guard. Our hands never leaving the hilt of our swords.

 

Morning broke through the haze of the fog and thankfully I had just stepped into my last marsh pool. We had made it no worse for wear yet damp. We drew closer to Gondor by the hour and would be in the warmth of Minas Tirith soon.

“Shall I make breakfast?’ I asked but when I looked to Boromir he was frozen in place listening and gazing into the distant hills. Suddenly he turned.

“Run.” He said quietly and we did, in the opposite direction we needed to go.

“What did you see?” I asked as we ran back into Nindalf.

“An army of Uruk. At least 200 strong.”

“We can go up the Entwash and into Rohan.” I managed to say after stumbling over a giant puddle of muck.

“To Edoras?” He asked.

“If Theoden is willing. I hear dark tales of Edoras.”

“We will try.” Boromir decided. I agreed as long as it took us away from the Uruk. We would then go another way, along the white mountains, to Minas Tirith.

 

The Uruk-Hai had run behind us for so many days I lost count. However one morning they simply changed direction and traveled away from us.

We were already more than half way to Edoras so we decided to ask Theoden if he would spare any food for our travels.

 

The sun shown bright when we arrived in Edoras and the people of its land smiled just as bright.

The tales of Rohan I had heard seemed to hold no truth.

“State your business in Edoras.” A guard at the gate spoke.

“We seek food and shelter for a night.” Boromir answered.

“And to see the King.” I added.

“Who are you?” The guard asked.

“I am Boromir of Gondor, and this is Kahlin of Lorien.” Boromir did not actually know where I was from so he simply lied. In truth I was not from any single place. My father was a Dunedain and my mother an elf of Lothlorien, a Noldor.

“Come this way.” The guard lead us up the road toward the Golden hall.

“I had heard Edoras was in despair these past months. I am glad to see it not true.” I told the guard.

“The tales were true.” He then proceeded to tell us the story of four companions who had saved their king and brought victory to their people against the armies of Isengaurd.

“Who are these companions?” Boromir asked.

“A man, an elf, a dwarf, and a wizard.” Boromir looked to me suddenly and with hopeful eyes he ran to the keep. I would have been close behind him if not for the guard.

“Halt!” the guard shouted and tried to go after him.

“Do not worry, Boromir is of the four companion’s fellowship. We have been seeking them for many a night.” I explained. The truth would have been more difficult to explain in short but Boromir was in fact of their fellowship. They thought him dead.

We came to the keep in time to see the embraces of old friends.

Boromir looked to the doorway I stood in and beckoned me to him. The smile he wore was most remarkable and shown like no other I had seen before. He truly was as the tales told a handsome prince of Gondor.

 

“Kahlin, these are my friends, my brothers.” He said and introduced us all.

Aragorn was a Dunedain like my father, Gimli was dwarf, Legolas an elf, and Gandalf whom I knew well from my childhood was a wizard.

Gandalf, I thought you fallen in Khazad-dum.” Boromir said.

“I had been. I smote the Balrog of Morgoth and have come back to you all. As have you.” His eye twinkled and he gave a smile. As if he knew of Boromir’s return afore.

Such were the mysteries of Gandalf.

“Come we must celebrate!” Aragorn smiled.