DISCLAIMER: None of the J.R. Tolkien characters belong to me, only the characters I have created for this story. This story is for pure enjoyment and not for sale or profit.
SUMMARY: Boromir is transported to another time and place. A holiday story.
Boromir felt his life force growing weaker as the second arrow pierced his body. He was thrown back by the impact of the arrow. The pain was unbearable; his strength was almost gone. Unconsciousness swept over him for a brief moment, but somewhere deep within him, he found the strength to continue hacking and killing the foul creatures coming at him from every direction. It seemed as soon as he slew the orcs before him they were immediately replaced by a larger number of the repulsive creatures. He had blown the horn of Gondor, but to his dismay, no one had answered the call. He was outnumbered at least twenty to one. No matter, he would do everything possible to protect the little ones, even if it meant his death, and that is why the Steward's son continued to fight.
Alison Williams looked at her younger brother Ethan with frustration. She sighed heavily, her lips pursing tightly as she placed her hands on her hips. "Will you hurry up!" Alison shouted at her brother. "Mom's waiting!" This was the afternoon they would be getting their Christmas tree, and Ethan was taking his sweet time putting his rubber boots on.
"I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying!" Ethan shouted as he stood and looked at Alison with a smirk on his face.
Alison rolled her eyes, rushed out of their bedroom and dashed into the living room. Their mother, Lauren, had just finished assembling the Christmas tree stand, placing it in the corner of the room. Lauren turned to see her children looking anxiously up at her. She smiled and was instantly pulled toward the door. "All right, all right, I'm coming!" Lauren grabbed a small axe and a flashlight from the table near the door, and stepped out into the bitterly cold afternoon with her children. A new winter storm greeted them, dropping additional snowfall on the snow packed ground.
"Can we get a big tree this time?" Ethan asked as he trudged alongside his mother.
"That's what I was thinking."
"Really?" Ethan stopped, forcing Lauren and Alison to stop mere footsteps away. Ethan moved toward his mother and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Can it be big enough so Daddy'll be able to see it from heaven?"
Lauren's heart leapt in her chest. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before a scream could escape her lips. "Yes, we'll get a tree that's big enough for Daddy to see from heaven, honey. Now come on, we have to find Daddy's tree before it gets dark." Lauren said softly and led her children up the mountain in search of the perfect Christmas tree.
Boromir heard the screams of the little ones as they were snatched away. For a brief moment, he turned to see Merry and Pippin in the arms of the wicked creatures.
"NO!" Boromir screamed.
He realized at that moment he didn't have a chance of winning this battle. Pippin and Merry were gone. What was the point of living anyway? He had done the unthinkable and gone after the ring! He could never forgive himself. It did not matter if he encountered death today. But he would slaughter as many of the foul creatures as he could before he drew his last breath.
As the man from Gondor cut down another orc, he felt a light breeze flutter past his face. The sensation was soothing yet frightening. He did not have time to ponder over it for another hideous orc sliced at him with an axe. He moved swiftly, lost his footing and landed hard on his back. The thick arrows cut deeper into his flesh causing him to cry out in agony. The orc brought the axe high above its head, ready to bring it down onto the Gondorian. The Man ignored his pain and quickly thrust his sword forward into the beast's belly, slashing through the skin and ripping the stomach open. The orc screamed, stepped back and looked down as its entrails began spilling out of its body.
Boromir somehow managed to get to his feet. To his horror he felt his movements become extremely sluggish. He could hardly lift his sword. How could he kill orcs if he could scarcely move? And how could he kill the orc that was coming toward him?
What is happening?
Am I dying?
He watched with mild surprise as the orc's misshapen head turned slowly to look at something. He took advantage of the situation, and beheaded the gruesome creature. Again, his actions were as if he were moving in slow motion. The light breeze he had felt on his face earlier had now become more forceful and it had a putrid smell to it. He looked to his right and saw a large whirlwind moving toward him. It was emitting a brilliant light from its core. He instinctively raised his hand to protect his eyes from the blinding light. Within the twister, lightning bolts were exploding and shooting their energy outward. The whirlwind was rather bizarre for it was not standing upright but lay horizontally. Everything in its path was being drawn into its massive opening like a huge vacuum. He sensed the raging battle had stopped around him. The orcs were moving away from the strange phenomenon that was occurring before them.
Aragorn? My friend, you have finally come!
"Get away from there!" Aragorn shouted.
The Captain-General of Gondor turned to see Aragorn running toward him. In that instant, he was pulled violently into the whirlwind. Moments later the whirlwind dispersed into the heavens and disappeared. The Gondorian was gone, leaving only his sword behind as it fell to the ground. Aragorn was powerless to do anything to help his comrade. He took the sword in his hands and looked in shock at where his friend had been.