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they looked back. dark yawned the archway of the gates under the mountain-shadow. faint and far beneath the earth rolled the slow drum-beats: doom. a thin black smoke trailed out. nothing else was to be seen; the dale all around was empty. doom. grief at last wholly overcame them, and they wept long: some standing and silent, some cast upon the ground. doom, doom. the drum-beats faded.


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lotrgifs:

Boromir: I would have followed you, my brother. My captain. My king.