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She has watched and he did fight so hard that she did believe
he would succeed. But he did not. She takes solace in the fact he
is able to recollect. Recognize the travesty of his actions and she
mourns his mistakes as surely as he does. She waits, for she has
no desire to slay anything. He must be given the chance to redeem
himself before she is to aid him.
And as the arrows pierce him, she is present though unseen.
Tears gliding down pale cheeks as they so often do. Only when
the dark presence has passed does she reveal herself, cloaked
in a thin grey cloak as she often travels. Bright hair of sunlit shade
does not match her aura, nor her attire. She crouches by him and
cool fingertips press against his cheek, gentle pressure turning
his head just enough that he might face her.
« Boromir. It is within my power to heal you. »
She dries her eyes, bringing a few of her tears down to rest
also on his cheek. For hers is a power of healing and purification
that stems from her sorrow – and for him, she does sorrow.
« Is that what you desire – ? »