Boromir Drabbles by Himring

The Cloven Horn

The two halves of Boromir's horn make their way to Minas Tirith.

Bound with silver, written with ancient characters: half was found among the reeds where watchers lay, below the infalls of the Entwash. In haste, their captain rode through Anorien, a grievous burden across his saddle-bow.

O Boromir! The long road north!

Half was found spinning on the flood by one who had an errand on the water. A perilous freight resting against her feet, she rowed straight past her destination, on to Osgiliath.

O Boromir! The hard road east!

Now the horn lies cloven upon the lap of Denethor, waiting only for confirmation.

O Boromir! Drifting south under the stars…

Chapter End Notes

Essentially a somewhat expanded remix of what Faramir says at Henneth Annun.
You could read the italicized lines as being Denethor's thoughts--or perhaps Faramir's.

Drabble (100 words)  written for the Homophones Challenge at Tolkien Weekly on LiveJournal

Prompts: rode/rowed/road