Chapter OneA/N: Okay, so, my list of priorities is completely shot. I swear, I can't stay on one story to save my life! But, I guess it helps that this one is actually not an insertion…Sorry, to those of you who haven't read my stories before. I didn't mean to spew like that. :)So, this is my first Boromir centered story. I don't have all of the facts straight about him, so if you see something that you know isn't right, just tell me, and I'll try to the best of my abilities to fix it.Without further ado, chapter one!
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Boromir was there the night his mother died. He had been ten years old at the time.
His mother had gone into premature labor. For hours Boromir sat with his father, Denethor, until a nurse came out. She had tears streaming down her face. She said a few quiet words with Denethor, who proceeded to rush into the room his wife was in. Boromir followed him.
His mother lay, deathly pale, on the bed. In her arms was a tiny baby, almost small enough to fit into Denethor's palm. One of the nurses came and took the baby gently out of his mothers arms. Denethor sat down in the chair next to the bed and wept next to his dying wife. Boromir stood in the corner, forgotten and confused.
Then the nurse noticed him. She lead him gently into the hall, and made him sit down. She shifted the baby in her arms, and then quietly explained to Boromir that his mother had been too weak to survive the birth, and was about to die. Boromir stood for a moment, shocked, and then started to sob.
The nurse comforted him gently, and then asked him if he would like to hold the baby. 'It might comfort him' she had said. Boromir had agreed, more for the baby's sake than his own. The nurse set the tiny bundle in his arms, and he looked down on the face of his brother for the first time.
He was frightfully small, but the nurse told him that that was normal with early babies. He had little wisps of golden hair starting on his head, barely even there. His eyes were a misted blue, almost gray, but not quite. He looked exactly like his mother.
As he held the new-born baby in his arms, Boromir felt a surge of emotion that, as a ten year old boy, was extremely new to him. Though he had felt it before with his mother and father, this was different. He felt an amazing love for the little boy.
He knew that he could never let anything happen to the child. He knew that this little bundle, barely big enough to qualify as a being, was more precious than any material thing, was so frail and fragile that it needed to be protected. So Boromir whispered in his little brother's ear, words that, later in his life, became a standard that he lived by, a goal to always uphold.
" I promise you, little brother, that I shall never let anything happen to you. I promise…."
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Two years had passed since that night. Faramir was still very small, and very frail. To make matters worse, his father seemed to refuse to accept the boy. He was harsh and cruel to him, even though he was only a child.
Boromir was twelve now. He had grown more mature in those two years than most fifteen year olds, and had acted as mother, father, and brother to Faramir. He had always kept the boy out of trouble, as much so as he could.
" Bor'mir!" Came a tiny voice as the two year old came toddling into Boromir's room. Boromir smiled and swung the baby high into the air, and then let the giggling toddler come to rest on top of his shoulders.
" What shall we do today, little brother?" Asked Boromir. He guided Faramir down from his shoulders and let him fall onto the mattress of Boromir's bed. The two-year-old giggled, and then said,
" Le's go in the market, Bor'mir!" Cried the little boy. The market was one of his favorite places, and the people of Minas Tirith simply adored him, even if his father didn't.
Smiling, Boromir agreed.
The walk down to the market-place was uneventful, with nothing more than a few greeting's from the guards, and a few maids fawning over Faramir. Then they got to the market place itself.
The colorful stalls all competed for a their attention, awnings casting little pockets of shade. The voices of people haggling over prices and promoting their wares. The smells of the different foods and flowers were practically over-whelming, and the different swords and silks and things of the like all competed for the attention of the eye.
As they walked through they were greeted by many different people, all of them over-joyed to see the sons of their steward. They immediately offered up their wares, telling the brothers to take whatever they wanted. Faramir laughed as Boromir politely declined.
Finally, as the novelty wore off, the people started to go back to what they had been doing. The two brothers walked through the stalls, admiring the different baubles and trinkets. At one point Boromir bought them both a sweet, sticky pastry that was Faramir's favorite. The vendor had almost point-blank refused the money, but Boromir had insisted.
It was as they were heading back up to the castle that things started to get really interesting.
They were walking through the very end of the vendors on the path back to the castle when a figure burst from the crowd and ran straight into Boromir. Faramir, who had been holding Boromir's hand, looked surprised as his brother went careening into the ground, the mysterious figure falling on top of him.
Boromir found himself cushioning the fall of a girl. She looked roughly his age, but she was very thin and bedraggled. She looked shocked, so she obviously hadn't meant to assail him in such a manner.
She was thin, and shorter than him. She had long, dark brown hair that fell past her waist in a braid, and bright green eyes. They had a spark of liveliness in them, but Boromir could see something haunting in those eyes, some sadness that was plaguing her.
She immediately started to get up, begging his forgiveness.
" I'm so sorry Sir, I wasn't watching where I was going." She said, her head bowed in humbleness.
" No, it wasn't your fault. We were kind of in the way." Said Boromir, standing and helping her up. Her cheeks flushed and she gave a small grin.
" Why are you in such a hurry, anyways?" Asked Boromir, simply out of curiosity. A scared look came over the girls face as she remembered something, and she immediately started fidgeting.
" I have to get home!" She cried anxiously, but there was a certain pallor to her that told Boromir she was very afraid. " I'm late, I must get home!"
Faramir, making himself known for the first time since the girl had run into them, walked up to her and pulled lightly on her skirt. She jumped, but then looked down and her gaze softened.
" Wha' are you late for?" Asked the little two year old innocently. The girl smiled and knelt so that she was level with him.
" My father wanted me to be home by two hours after noon. It is now two and a half hours after noon, and I have yet to get home." She explained to the little boy, who nodded knowledgeably, and started sucking on his thumb absentmindedly, as was a habit of his.
The girl stood, and then looked to Boromir.
" I am sorry, My Lord, but I really must be going. I apologize again for knocking you down." She said guiltily.
" It was no fault of yours. But please, if your father wishes you home, do not let me be the one to keep you!" He said with a smile. She grinned, and gave a short curtsy before hurrying away.
It wasn't until later that Boromir realized that he had forgotten to ask her name.
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A/N: As far as first chapters go, I think this one went pretty well… :)Review and tell me what you think! :)