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Author of 3 Stories |
A/N: And here it is! The final chapter of "Wish". I hope you have all enjoyed this fic! Many, many thanks for all your reviews. :D
--I Wish Upon Tonight--
Chapter Twelve:
A Wish Across The Ages
“How is everyone?” he asked, an eyebrow rising at the rather smug look on his Elf friend’s face. “Mani?”
“I believe we should let two of our Fellowship make their way here on their own terms,” the Elf said simply. He sat across from the Ranger to inspect his quiver of arrows – still wearing a smile
Aragorn smiled to himself. He knew exactly who Legolas was referring to. Love is truly a precious thing. May they cherish their gift.
A few hours passed, and to no one’s surprise, Boromir and Delilah were the last ones to make an appearance. They were both fully dressed and looked quite content, not bothering to hide their entwined hands. Legolas and Aragorn exchanged knowing looks and a chuckle, while the hobbits and Dwarf looked on with curious expressions, wondering what in the world the two could have been doing all this time.
“Good morning, you two,” greeted Aragorn, giving them a warm smile.
“Did you rest well?” Frodo asked. Only the Elf and Ranger knew what had really gone on a few hours previous, and they both had to hold back their laughter – causing confused looks from the shorter members of the Fellowship, and deep blushes from the Gondorian and Seventh Age girl.
Fortunately, neither made any more mention of it, for which the couple was extremely grateful. They were all summoned once more before Galadriel and Celeborn, and presented with useful gifts to aid them in their journey forward to Mordor.
To Legolas, Galadriel gave a white bow of the Galadhrim. It was longer than his own and made with the finest care; well suited for one of the Sylvan Elves, known for their skill in archery. To Merry and Pippin she gave two Númenorean daggers and small silver belts, with clasps wrought in the shape of golden flowers. Don’t ever let go of that dagger, Merry, Delilah thought. That blade will lead to the victory of the free peoples of Middle-earth.
To Samwise, Galadriel gave a coil of Elven rope, made of hithlain, and a small box filled with earth from her orchards, in token of his green thumb. To Frodo, she gave a small glass vial, filled with water from a fountain that caught the light of Eärendil, their most beloved star.
Delilah had not expected a gift, since she wasn’t part of the original Fellowship – but was surprised when the Lady of Lórien approached her and the Gondorian. A smile flitted across her fair features – an I-know-what-you-did-last-night smile. She held two items, a small item wrapped in silk, and a beautiful belt of gold.
Galadriel gave the belt to Boromir, then revealed the silk-wrapped item. Delilah’s eyes widened in shock, unable to believe that this was truly hers. “I had this made for you to embody your love for Lord Boromir,” the Elf queen said softly.
It was the most beautiful necklace the Seventh Age girl had ever seen, every delicate link and decoration made of pure, strong mithril. The pendant was the size of a dollar coin, an intricate tree etched into the center of two intertwined sapphire hearts. “Mithril for strength, sapphires for faithfulness,” Galadriel whispered as she clasped it around the girl’s neck, “and a tree for the land of your love’s birth.”
Delilah couldn’t help but smile, her eyes sparkling with more thanks than words could express. “Hantalyë, milady,” she said truthfully, the Lady bending and offering a light kiss to the crown of her head, as though she were a child.
“Keep strong, Lady Delilah,” Galadriel whispered so only Delilah could hear. “His choice is made – and now you must make one as well. Will you let fate take its course… or will you change history as you know it?”
After the gifts were given and farewells said, the Fellowship was sent off down the Anduin River. Their boats were fully laden with provisions for the remainder of their journey. Boromir had insisted that Delilah be in the same boat as him, but she’d already put her things in with the Elf and Dwarf. It won’t hurt him to be only feet away from me for a little while, she thought, laughing heartily to herself as she sat between the two friends. Besides, I don’t think the poor hobbits would like it so much if he were giving me the ‘I want you’ look all the time.
The Fellowship made good time down the river, the current swift and strong. Boromir took every chance they made camp to be near her, earning him the amused rolling of her eyes and a tender kiss. They paddled for what seemed to be endless days, and she often fell into a doze as they traveled. After passing the Argonath, they soon reached the Falls of Rauros, turning to land on a bank.
Delilah paid little attention as they made camp, as she already knew what was to happen here. Her thoughts were lingering on a particular Elf. The soft rocking of the boat had lulled her into sleep, and it was not until the boat bumped the shore and she had awoken that she noticed where she had ended up. Legolas apparently had folded a cloak and laid it across his lap, gently lowering her back to rest upon it like a pillow. Not that she’d minded, of course, but she was still curious why he’d done so.
She decided to bring it up a little later, when everyone was settled and engaged in other things. “Hey, Legolas?”
The Elf looked up at the sound of his name, moving from his place by the fire and sitting gracefully beside her. “Yes?” he asked. “What is it, Lady Delilah?”
She couldn’t help but smile. She was suddenly reminded of her mother – and briefly entertained the thought of what she would do if she met the Elf of her dreams. “Could I ask you something?” He nodded for her to continue and she blushed slightly, beckoning him closer. He did so, lending her his Elven ear. “Why did you, umm…”
One blonde eyebrow rose a little, waiting for her to finish.
“Oh jeez… Why did you let me use your lap as a pillow?” she blurted out, biting her lip in embarrassment afterwards.
Legolas blinked, seeming to be a little confused by her question. “You were weary, and I did not wish you to fall into the river,” he explained calmly. “Did I offend you in some way?”
She shook her head quickly. “No, no. Not at all, actually,” she assured him. “It’s just – well, in my Age, people would have taken your gentlemanly gesture as something different, and would have thought me to be toying with the hearts of two men.” She bit back a laugh. “Besides that, my mom would have given anything to be in my place. You were her favorite in the tale of the One Ring.”
The Elf was silent for a moment before he answered, a small smile flitting across his face. “If your mother is anything like you are, Lady Delilah, then I am sure we would have fared well as friends.” He squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “And I am glad I did not offend you so. You are important to our journey. Lord Boromir would not be pleased if anything were to happen to you under my watch.”
Their conversation was suddenly interrupted by the frantic voice of the Brandybuck. “Where’s Frodo?”
Delilah looked up and noticed that he indeed was gone – and so was Boromir. Damn! I just knew I would miss it!
Aragorn began to get very worried after an hour passed without any sign of them. He left to search for them, and was accompanied by Gimli, Legolas, and the rest of the Company. Everyone kept their hands near their weapons.
Delilah started to follow the Fellowship – but suddenly faltered. The choice was now before her: let fate take him… or throw all caution to the wind and save his life? She walked after Aragorn and the others, battling between what was right… and what she so desperately needed.
Battle… She suddenly heard the clashing of swords and the roars of the massive Uruk-hai, and knew it was the Ranger fighting off the creatures nearby. Delilah made her decision right then and there…
…and ran.
Every muscle in her body screamed in protest as she tore through the forest, swinging her blade and felling huge creatures as she went. She didn’t care – she hardly even noticed as they streamed around her like black rivers of death. She did not notice anything – not the trees, the grass, or the blue sky above. Only two things whirled in her mind: the determination to live… and the all-consuming urgency to save the one she loved before it was too late.
Delilah searched the forest, seeing only the foul servants of Isengard all around her. She grew ever more desperate as the minutes passed, still finding no sign of the Gondorian. But then, just as she lost all her hope… The Horn of Gondor blared through the trees, spreading its cry for aid to anyone who could hear its call.
The Uruks around her swarmed toward the sound like moths to flame, jarring her back to reality. In not a few minutes time… Not yet, you bastards! I won’t let your foul hands touch him!! Delilah felt the adrenaline take over her body, a cry of pure animalistic rage tearing from her lips as she charged through the horde before her, her strength intensified by the primal instinct to survive in the heat of battle. She didn’t even take heed of the nicks and cuts she sustained in her flight, knocking the Uruk-hai out of her way, killing the ones that dared to try and stop her.
The sound of the Horn grew louder and louder… Please! SAVE HIM! She kept running, kept swinging, praying with all her might, drawing closer and closer…
The Horn suddenly ceased... and called no longer.
Delilah felt her world crashing down around her. Her breath came in ragged, sobbing gasps, hot tears flooding down her cheeks as she ran up a small hill, skidding to a halt at the top – and meeting the sight of her worst fears blooming into stark, cold reality.
There stood Boromir. His eyes were wide, his face twisted in pain, the two hobbits behind him rooted to the spot in utter horror and shock. A long, thick black arrow had just buried itself into his left shoulder. He swayed and dropped to his knees, breathing heavily, and caught the frightened gazes of Merry and Pippin. It seemed to give him strength, and he gave a battle cry and rose, swinging as he went, cutting down an approaching Uruk.
A horrible, guttural growl sounded from her left, and Delilah felt time slow as she looked toward it – to see the massive Uruk leader, Lurtz, loading his bow again. A small part of her mind knew she had to stop this, to save him – but her limbs would not move. She was paralyzed with fear and shock, unable to keep a grip on her sanity for more than a moment or two at best. She watched helplessly as the second black arrow whistled through the air and slammed into his belly, knocking him back down to his knees. He gasped for breath, in agony from the two feathered knives of death piercing his body.
Boromir inhaled painfully and another cry tore from his lips as he rose once more, continuing to fight. Delilah felt her legs buckle, and she fell to her knees on the bloodied, trampled earth. The Uruk-hai paid no heed as they streamed past her toward the dying Gondorian and helpless Halflings. A roar barely reached her ears as Lurtz loaded his bow once more – and fired the final arrow. It flew and buried itself beneath his breast… and he fell to his knees for the last time, his breath shallow, blinking the sweat and white-hot agony from his darkening vision.
Star light, star bright, shining down upon me, in my heartfelt sight…
The soft, whispered sentence brushed Boromir’s consciousness. He lifted his head, time slowing down as the Uruk-hai streamed past him, capturing the Halflings and whisking them away, their cries muffled in his ears against his weakening heart. A pair of huge black feet came toward him… the footsteps of Death itself approached to take him to his grave, to set his spirit free of this mortal realm.
I wish I may, I wish I might, on Eärendil’s Star, of everlasting light…
The voice spoke again, just as soft as before. Boromir gasped for breath, shuddering in pain – he looked up, his dying gray gaze meeting the eyes of his killer. The massive Uruk loaded his bow, a triumphant, gloating grin on his grotesque face. He drew back the bowstring, growling and shaking his head, that hideous grin still in place…
A cry rent the tense air, and Lurtz was suddenly tackled from the side, his arrow flying askew and away from its target…
------(...)------
Delilah heard footsteps running toward her – and a blur of brown and glinting silver flew by her. She saw dark hair, blazing eyes, and a familiar hunting knife at his side…
Aragorn’s war cry sent feeling rushing back to her limbs, and she surged upward, following in his wake. BOROMIR! She flew down the hill, slipping and sliding on the blood-soaked leaves, dodging Lurtz and Aragorn’s battle. She dropped to her love’s side as he fell backward to rest at the roots of a tree.
Boromir’s eyes rolled up into his head for a few moments, coughing. A tiny trickle of blood fell from the corner of his mouth. He uttered a single word, “Lilah…”
Delilah felt a rush of tears flood down her cheeks, closing her eyes tight to try to regain some sense of composure.
I prayed in my heart, as this journey had its start, that all would be well, though my soul was torn apart…
She laid one hand on his chest, the other taking hold of one of his gloved ones, squeezing tightly. “Boromir… I’m right here… your Lilah’s here…”
He opened his eyes, blurred vision becoming clearer and focusing on his battle-worn lover. He reached up and clutched at her hair, damp from sweat. “Lilah… You. You knew – all along… didn’t you?” he rasped, his eyes glazing over, a single tear falling from the corner of his eye.
A lump rose in her throat, making it difficult to breathe. She choked down a sob, closing her eyes. “Oh gods… I – I did,” she croaked, heart swelling in her chest. “I t-t-tried to stop it… I w-wished and prayed a-and hoped… s-smashed the history books to pieces in the process…” she drew a difficult breath, still keeping her eyes locked with his for a moment. Her head fell to his uninjured shoulder. “Oh Boromir…” she wailed into the bloodied fabric of his coat. “I’m so sorry…”
My spirit was tested, my heart was enchanted, I ask only now, for this one wish to be granted…
More tears fell from the Gondorian’s eyes, searing agony pouring through his limbs as he fought to live. He had seen the pain in her eyes, the utter despair that she could not stop what was foretold… and the love he felt for her flooded him, his pain momentarily forgotten. “Lilah… I should be the one – who must apologize…” he managed to whisper. “They took the little ones… and I could not stop them…”
Delilah lifted her head, tears and dirt smearing her cheeks, one hand caressing his bearded face. “I know, love. I know. You don’t need to be forgiven...” Why? Is this the reason you brought me here? To show me the greatest love of my life – only to let him die? To take him from me when our love is strongest?! What kind of ‘gods’ are you?! You’re the perfect example of why I’ve never believed in any deity whatsoever!
There was a crunch of leaves, and Aragorn dropped to Boromir’s other side, bleeding but victorious against Lurtz. He gave Delilah a quick once-over for major wounds before turning his attention to the fading Gondorian. “Hold still,” the Ranger said, urgency and a slight hint of panic in his voice.
Delilah placed a hand over Aragorn’s on Boromir’s chest, halting him. “He’s…” she bit her lip, hard, eyes tightly closed, regaining enough composure to whisper, “He’s not going to make it, Aragorn…” She lowered her head, then turned her eyes back to Boromir’s.
“It is over,” the Gondorian rasped. His eyes looked pleadingly into the Ranger’s. “Where is Frodo?”
Aragorn shook his head slightly. “I let Frodo go.”
A sense of relief seemed to come over the dying man. “Then you did what I could not…” His voice wavered and shook, one gloved hand coming up to grasp Aragorn’s shoulder, the other squeezing Delilah’s hand. “Forgive me… I could not see it… I have failed you all…”
Oh beautiful star of Eärendil, by the moon and the sky and the sea of your heart, may you hear my one precious prayer, before the voice of Death may say his part…
Delilah shook and shuddered, a furious despair building hot and fast within her. Not now… Please, not now… “Why?” Delilah whispered to herself, eyes tightly closed, not looking at either man. She felt Boromir squeeze her hand again, as though confused. A hot ache grew in her chest, her heart swelling, beating painfully hard against her ribcage. “WHY?!” She suddenly wailed into the air, the scent of blood heavy and making her slightly sick. She lifted her gaze to the sky, blinded by tears, rising unsteadily to her feet. “What do you want from me?! Why did you bring me here?!” she sobbed angrily. “You save me from my darkest nightmare, my deepest fear. You give me the man I will love for the rest of my life – ” She clenched her fists, hands shaking almost violently. “And now, after my foolish ‘prayers’, every wish I made along the way, every chance I had to save him… You spit in my face and tear him away from me?!”
“Lady Delilah…” Aragorn’s voice barely registered in her mind, his tone laced with shock and confusion.
She paid him no heed, her voice rising with every spiteful sentence. “I know you can hear me, whether you be Fate, God, or the holy Valar themselves!” she cried into the sky, breathing heavily in her agony. “If you take him… then take me as well. No force in this world is going to keep me from Boromir, brother of Faramir, son of Denethor of the House of Húrin, Steward of Gondor!” She turned back to the two men, the dying Gondorian’s eyes full of tears. “My name is Delilah Nicole Korr, sister of Noelle, daughter of Marie and Jonathan… and I truly love you, Boromir of Gondor.”
Delilah closed her eyes. “He will not let the White City fall… nor your people fail, my love,” she whispered, not even caring about her tears anymore. She turned, and dropped beside him once more, her head falling onto his shoulder…
This man of Gondor, as his doom draws nigh… “I beg of thee let him not suffer… his one fate to die.” The final words were spoken in unison by two voices, Delilah’s… and another, ethereal presence, gentle as the wind and the rain on a summer’s night.
Boromir’s eyes began to close, the last of his strength leaving him as he drew a final, rattling breath…
O maiden of different worlds… With this, may you finally believe in the power of your words… By the sun and the earth and the flames of your love… May your wish upon my Star…
…be granted.
Why yes, there will be! I'm working on it as I type this, so I hope you all stay tuned for "To Where You Were". :)