Word count: 100
Disclaimer: Not mine… but, oh, how I wish to have been part of it…
The arrow thudded home into dark leathers. Groans of suppressed anguish hissed across the glade. Boromir paused, stock-still, before renewing his efforts, slashing at the orcs attacking the little ones.
A second and third brought Lurtz crashing to the ground; the white-fletched Elvish arrows standing like frozen lightening-bolts in his dark hide. The others fled, but carried Merry and Pippin with them. Boromir hewed at the remaining orcs, until a chance blow felled him.
Gimli’s voice woke him.
“He lives!” breathed Aragorn, and Boromir struggled back to them.
Aragorn grasped his hand.
“Now, we four shall hunt the orcs!”