1. So It Was
Gimli could see that Legolas did not understand. Legolas would have remained close to the Man had he not been coaxed away by Gimli's claim to need help in sorting the knives and swords that they had taken from the dead orcs. Despite the Elf's many long years, grief was new to him, and the ways of Men were strange to both of them. "Let us leave him to his sorrow and walk to Parth Galen to get the boats," the Dwarf advised. Finally Legolas agreed, although Gimli could see that it pained him to leave Aragorn mournful and solitary beside the bier.
When they returned with the remaining boats, they found Aragorn bent double with weeping, crouched on his knees next to Boromir. The dead Man's torn vest was clutched in the Ranger's hands and his gauntlets lay upon the ground at his side. Legolas started to go to him, but Gimli held him back with a hand upon his arm. "Let him be," he said quietly, so as not to draw Aragorn's attention. Had their task been less dire, he would have suggested to Legolas that they rest for awhile apart from Aragorn, letting the Man grieve in his own time.
Since they could afford no such luxury, Gimli began to pile the swords of their slain enemies into the prow of the boat that would bear Boromir down the falls of Rauros. Eventually Aragorn quieted and rose, beckoning Legolas over to help him place Boromir in the boat, with his head resting on his elven cloak and the cloven Horn of Gondor lying in his lap. Aragorn knelt to comb Boromir's hair, brushing it gently from the still, peaceful forehead, and Gimli could not help but think that it would have made Boromir glad to know the other Man cared for him so tenderly. The Dwarf turned his eyes away from the loving look that Aragorn bestowed upon their dead companion, glancing at Legolas to find that he, too, had lowered his gaze.
After they had rowed the funeral boat out into the river and cast it loose, the three companions watched together as Boromir floated by peacefully. Aragorn made a gesture unfamiliar to Gimli, though he had offered a similar tribute to the radiance of Galadriel when they were in Lórien. As they rowed back to shore, Aragorn sang a hushed funeral dirge in a voice choked with tears, and Gimli did not look at him.
His cloven shield, his broken sword, they to the water brought.
His head so proud, his face so fair, his limbs they laid to rest;
And Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, bore him upon its breast.
O Boromir! The Tower of Guard shall ever northward gaze
To Rauros, golden Rauros-falls, until the end of days.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.