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Boromir's Bed ... (A/B NC-17)
Jun. 11th, 2005 11:44 pmTitle: Boromir's Bed ...
Author: Uisgich
Pairing: A/B (eventually!)
Summary: Beds that Boromir has known, or would like to know. Came about after thinking back to a creative writing exercise I did a few years ago with my original characters "Describe the childhood bed, current bed and fantasy bed of your character".
Rating: NC-17 (I think, for one paragraph)
Disclaimer: Characters and places not mine - they belong to J. R. R. Tolkien & New Line
Notes: Partly Bookverse (searching for Rivendell, and staying there for a while before the Fellowship sets out)and partly Movieverse and partly my own view of Boromir. Also posted to "Sons of Gondor"
Beta: not beta-ed
Feedback: Would love it!
Archive: Err, no idea, first fic, probably Rugbytackle, if they'll have it.
This is my first real fic. I've messed around with a couple of angsty drabbles before, nothing I would post, but this just seemed to write itself. This was not what I intended to do last night! And I couldn't think of a title!!
Boromir's bed had stood in the same place for as long as he could remember, opposite a window with a view dominated by the White Tower. If he hung out of this window, he could see a little more of the view down over the plains, but given his reckless nature and the distance between the window and the courtyard below, this had been discouraged.
The bed had a heavy, carved wooden headboard, firm mattress and was made up with fresh lavender scented linen every day. Onto this bed he had thrown himself when he was finally left alone after his mother's death. He had sobbed so hard his chest had hurt, adding to the pain of his broken heart. His mother, his golden light, had left him, left them, alone with a father who had shown little affection during their lives.
Later, it was in this bed that he had held Faramir close and rocked him to sleep, when, missing their mother, he would sneak into Boromir's room to seek comfort. Boromir would wait until his brother was asleep, then let his tears fall into golden hair. This was the only time he would let his feelings out, as his Father thought of him as the strong one, his firstborn, who would grow up to take the mantle of Steward from him when the time came. He had no time for the weakness of a child left desolate by death.
It was at the foot of this bed that he had held Faramir as he prepared to leave Minas Tirith to search for Rivendell, haunted by the feeling he would never again look upon the face of his beloved brother.
( The bed that was his while he was in Rivendell also had a carved wooden headboard )
Author: Uisgich
Pairing: A/B (eventually!)
Summary: Beds that Boromir has known, or would like to know. Came about after thinking back to a creative writing exercise I did a few years ago with my original characters "Describe the childhood bed, current bed and fantasy bed of your character".
Rating: NC-17 (I think, for one paragraph)
Disclaimer: Characters and places not mine - they belong to J. R. R. Tolkien & New Line
Notes: Partly Bookverse (searching for Rivendell, and staying there for a while before the Fellowship sets out)and partly Movieverse and partly my own view of Boromir. Also posted to "Sons of Gondor"
Beta: not beta-ed
Feedback: Would love it!
Archive: Err, no idea, first fic, probably Rugbytackle, if they'll have it.
This is my first real fic. I've messed around with a couple of angsty drabbles before, nothing I would post, but this just seemed to write itself. This was not what I intended to do last night! And I couldn't think of a title!!
Boromir's bed had stood in the same place for as long as he could remember, opposite a window with a view dominated by the White Tower. If he hung out of this window, he could see a little more of the view down over the plains, but given his reckless nature and the distance between the window and the courtyard below, this had been discouraged.
The bed had a heavy, carved wooden headboard, firm mattress and was made up with fresh lavender scented linen every day. Onto this bed he had thrown himself when he was finally left alone after his mother's death. He had sobbed so hard his chest had hurt, adding to the pain of his broken heart. His mother, his golden light, had left him, left them, alone with a father who had shown little affection during their lives.
Later, it was in this bed that he had held Faramir close and rocked him to sleep, when, missing their mother, he would sneak into Boromir's room to seek comfort. Boromir would wait until his brother was asleep, then let his tears fall into golden hair. This was the only time he would let his feelings out, as his Father thought of him as the strong one, his firstborn, who would grow up to take the mantle of Steward from him when the time came. He had no time for the weakness of a child left desolate by death.
It was at the foot of this bed that he had held Faramir as he prepared to leave Minas Tirith to search for Rivendell, haunted by the feeling he would never again look upon the face of his beloved brother.
( The bed that was his while he was in Rivendell also had a carved wooden headboard )
