Eyther Naarisae (Name change to Kahlin Caladwen

That night we celebrated like kings after a field of victory. Boromir had forgotten his sorrows and did not loose his smile. I could feel the joy of the reunited friends fill me with happiness of my own. Yet sadness filled me as well.

For the long journey to Rohan Boromir and I had become close friends and cared for one another as Aragorn and the others, yet I could not tell him what would become of him if he stayed in my company.

Late into the night when the men talked of their journeys I pulled Gandalf aside into the cool night.

“What troubles you?” he asked. I looked to him with a heavy heart.

“The storm that comes.” I paused and looked away. “I can not escape my fate Gandalf but I wish you to help Boromir not succumb to it as well.” Our eyes met, “Could you do this for me?”

“He will not be parted from you so easily.” Wise indeed were the words he spoke but to not try would be the death of Boromir. “I will keep him for as long as I can.”

I could see in the old wise face of Gandalf that he wished me not go alone but he knew I must.

“When will you depart?” he asked.

“Tonight, after Boromir has fallen asleep.”

An agreement was made between us and we returned to the golden hall.

 

I waited silently for Boromir to fall into a deep sleep and when the moon reached high into the sky he did. I sprung from my bedding and hastened to the gates of Edoras.

“Halt!” a guard said. I turned and brought down my hood.

“Forgive me, I did not know it was you my lady.” It hadn’t taken long for the people of Edoras to find out I was half elven and when they did they assumed I was royalty of sorts and started bowing in my presence. All of which I disliked greatly.

I told him it was alright and left the city, Felarof the horse in hand.

 

I had traveled along the white mountains and taken a pass through them, from there I would ride to Minas Tirith.

I took the road less traveled yet paced myself. I was not yet fully healed from my wounds and the cold made them ache.

I stared into the fire I had made, my dinner  (a fish of reasonable size) sizzled on a stick. I missed my dear friend Boromir. We would be deep into conversation about something or other by now. But all I could hear was the sizzle of my dinner surrounded by a crackling fire and the soft cold breeze. Birds would speak every so often and I would hear a snap of branches in the distance but Boromir’s voice I did not hear.

“Did you think you could leave without me?” Apparently Gandalf was not able to hold him long. I turned and looked at the tall and handsome man that snuck up behind me.

“I thought Gandalf would try to stop you.” I retorted.

“He tried.” He said with a slight smirk upon his lips.

 

(BOROMIR POV)

The soft light of dawn shown through an open door and woke me. I had been asleep not two hours. Slowly I turned over, my old aching wounds protesting in the cold. I looked to Kahlin next to me but my eyes fell onto a long cold floor. I got out of bed and looked for her for the better part of the early morning but did not find her, nor did I find Gandalf. I knew then that she had left. Our destination had been Minas Tirith but she could have gone in any direction. There were many ways to get to the white city, few were safe.

When I did find the old wizard the sun was high in the sky. I marched up to him.

“Which way did she go?” I asked.

“I have no idea what you are speaking of.” He replied, but I knew he was deceiving me.

“Which road did Kahlin take to Minas Tirith?”

 

(KAHLIN POV)

“You are a stubborn man Boromir.” I stood.

“I thought you knew that by now.” He smirked.

“Go back to your friends, let me take this journey alone.” I could not tell him the truth of what would come to pass if he stayed with me. Yet I could not let him stay.

“We made a bond and I will not leave your side while you still draw breath.” He walked over to me, his eyes questioning why I would brake my word.

“Please, don’t make me hurt you.” I gripped my sword. I would not hurt him but I would knock him unconscious with the pommel.

“What would you do? Send me to fight alongside others. No matter which path I choose it will not lead me to a happy end.” He looked deep into my eyes, “I would rather die along side you if it is indeed my fate.”

“I don’t want you to die Boromir. You deserve a long life, and happiness. If you stay with me that will all be taken away from you.”

“Then so be it.”

I would not except death to be his fate so I promised myself that I would do what I could to keep him alive and ultimately leave him behind so I could carry out my destiny alone. Even if it meant he would curse me forever.

 

A bright and warm sun woke us the next morning. A good sign for some but for us it meant our horses would not be able to run as long.

We left our camp behind without a solid breakfast and took off towards the white city.

When our horses slowed to a trot I pulled up beside Boromir.

“What do you think your father will do when he sees you are alive?” I asked.

“I do not know. Though Faramir will be overjoyed.” He looked towards the city. “I know my father has love for me, yet I do not bring the ring.”

“I think you are more important than a ring.”

“I hope so.”

 

It took an extra day before we traveled down the north-way road to the gates of Minas Tirith as a rock slide had taken the road out and we had to go around.

When we arrived the great white city was a beautiful sight to see. I had only been inside it’s walls once before.

“Shall I go first?” I asked when I saw Boromir put his hood over his face.

He nodded.

The gates were easy enough to get through and when we put our horses into the stalls we ascended to the great hall of kings.

 

“Halt!” a guard in full armor stopped us before we could go up the small path that lead to the final level of the city.

“We need to see the Steward.” I announced.

“What is your business with the Steward?” he asked. Before I answered Boromir took off the hood which had shadowed his face and covered his armor.

“My lord!” the guard exclaimed with joy and confusion.

From this reaction we knew Denethor believed his son dead.

The guard let us pass and we hastened to the hall of kings.

 

Boromir threw open the heavy doors and head held high he marched to the throne where his father slumped. Whispers followed him from the people in the hall and I seemed to pass unnoticed.

“Father.” Boromir said as he kneeled in front of the throne.

“Boromir?” Denethor looked up from his grief and such joy broke through the haggard loss he had felt. He joined his son on his knees and embraced him.

“You had fallen…” he said when he pulled away.

Boromir stood as did Denethor.

“I was brought back from death.” I saw Denethor look over his son’s shoulder and his blue eyes looked to me.

“By this woman?” he asked.

“By the Lady Galadriel in the Lorien woods but…” he was cut short by another voice. A man who resembled Boromir yet smaller in stature ran down the hall.

“Brother!” he called and they embraced.

“I saw your boat on the shores of the Anduin...I thought you dead.” Faramir was as surprised as his father to see him yet he seemed more joyous.

Boromir stood before his father and brother and told them of our journey.

“Do you have it? Do you have the ring my son?” Denethor did not let him finish his tale. The mood turned dark and a shadow passed over the Steward.

“I let Frodo go.” Boromir said. His brother smiled but Denethor did not.

“Why would you not take it?!” He nearly shouted.

“Father I could not bring this burden to our city. I held it but once and I felt it’s power. I hurt the one I was supposed to protect.” Boromir defended himself.

“You are week!” Denethor spoke with a deep and dark voice. Something was wrong.

“If I had taken the ring you would not have known me when I returned. The ring would have consumed me and it would have let the city fall to ruin.”

“You are as week as your brother. Leave me! All of you leave me!” Denethor spoke his last words to his sons.

“Think better on us father.” Faramir said before we left.