Mortimir: The Unforgotten

Summary: Mortimir is the neglected brother of Faramir and Boromir. As the middle child, he is never taken seriously, and one day, he decides that he cannot stand it any longer. He is attacked by orcs as he tries to flee from his home, but is rescued by a mysterious stranger. They become friends, but can Mortimir hide his true identity? Will he and his savior find solace in each other? PLZ R+R!!!!!1!!



Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: I don't own Tolkien's sexy, sexy, body ... of work. Or any part of his sexy, sexy body ... of work. The concept of Mortimir came from the show "Arsenic and Old Lace."

Chapter One: The Decision

Mortimir was special. Unlike his older brother, Boromir, and his younger brother, Faramir, Mortimir did not enjoy fighting, drinking, or being rambunctious. In fact, he didn't enjoy most of the pastimes that seemed to amuse normal men. Mortimir was different.

Instead of sparring or jousting under the harsh Middle-Earth sun, Mortimir liked to sit in the royal gardens, under his favorite willow tree, and write poetry. Sometimes, when the day was extra bright and invigorating, he would even sit down with his lyre and write songs. When it rained, he would sit in his father's oft-empty library and study physics, mathematics, and the stars. He loved spending his free time exercising his creative mind, learning new things and understanding the ways of the world.

No one appreciated Mortimir. Every time he was excited about a new painting he had made, his brothers and father would scoff, celebrating instead their minor victories in battle. Once, Boromir had even been so rude as to slash one of the paintings with his sword, making Mortimir sad and upset. No one understood that he didn't find warfare and aggression noble - he preferred intellectual stimulation.

Mortimir longed to be free of his confining family. As the son of the Steward of Gondor, Mortimir was bound to perform certain expectations, many of which he found cumbersome or uninteresting. He didn't like to parade around in ceremonial armor. He didn't like to practice sword-fighting techniques. He didn't like being forced to act in ways that he didn't want to act. He wanted to be free from these severe restrictions! He needed to escape!

For years Mortimir had thought of running away. But his family was so closely knit that he could never elude the ever-watchful eyes of his father. But things were changing. Never before had he had such a clear window of opportunity. Boromir was now in charge of defending the White City, Faramir was training for battle, and his father, Denethor, seemed strangely distracted. The time was perfect. Since no one paid much attention to him normally, the disjointed family would not notice his absence for some days.

After the next group of orcs attacked, he would quietly disappear during the skirmish. He would follow the Anduin River north, through the Brown Lands, and somehow cross over the mountains and into Eriador. Only there would he find solace. Only there would he be accepted.

But until then, Mortimir would wait, and lay his plans ...

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R & R, SVP!