Minas Tirith
"EEEEEEKK! HEHEHEHE!" Thorongil heard the squeals of delight and the pat-a-pat of tiny feet only moments before the child barreled into his legs. "Ooof!" the toddler said, somewhat petualantly looking up at the captain. Thorongil starred back at the little dark-haired boy. "and where might you be going?" As he asked, Thorongil wondered and for a moment war reigned in his mind's eye. This would be a man of battle, as too many were likely to be in these peace-less days. "Up!" the tiny voice and the tug at his knee brought Thorongil startled back to the present. The boy was pointing up towards the Citadel. Where was this child's guardian or watcher? Thorongil looked around the empty courtyard, no one to look after this fairly well-dressed child of, what, two winters, perhaps? What a way to spend an afternoon of leave, playing nursemaid. Thorongil mentally scolded himself. The boy needed help and he was the only one available. Smiling at the tiny child, Thorongil asked, "Is your home up there?" Grey eyes locked with his silver and nodded with all due solemnity. As they set off in that direction, Thorongil kept his eyes open for any parent or nursemaid or tutor looking for a tiny tot, but in the light traffic of the upper city no one seemed to be missing this little boy. The boy in question continually pointed at each passerby and said simply. "Mine!" At first Thorongil thought that the boy was recognizing a family or household member. But the boy pointed so frequently, in fact, that Thorongil had to ask, "Are all these people yours?" The child nodded emphatically, "Mine people." Nearing the Citadel, Thorongil spotted a maid staring worriedly around and headed in her direction. The little boy giggled and squirmed at the sight of her confirming Thorongil's suspicion that this little mischief had given her the slip. The girl exclaimed at once, "There you are, Boromir! Where did you run off to? I was worried out of my head!" Then, looking up at Thorongil, "Thank you, sir, for bringing him back. I don't know how I can thank you." "No trouble at all," Thorongil smiled, "Keep a close eye on this one, he'll be mighty in his day." A credit to his people, Thorongil thought as he turned to enjoy the rest of his leave.
Beneath Amon Hen
Aragorn ran through the trees. He had heard the Horn and the Orcs retreating shouts. Where was Boromir? Where was Frodo? At he base of the hill he had one of his answers. Boromir lay amid the roots of a large tree, orc bodies scattered around it. His other question forgotten, Aragorn knelt by him, noting the many arrows in the man. He would not survive this. Aragorn's eye welled as he remembered the bright boy in the streets of Minas Tirith. *"Go to Minas Tirith and save my people I have failed." "No" said Aragorn, "You have conquered."* You have done this for your people. And they are now mine to care for. Mine people.
*The part within the asterisks is direct quote from the Lord of the Rings, which belongs to the Professor and his Estate and not to me.