Fade Away
By: Kaimelar
Chapter One
Disclaimer: I only own this in my insane, twisted mind, but in real life I sadly don't
Author's note: Here I am once more, attempting to fanfic, but this time a Boromir fic. I know I have not been the most loyal to my readers but I'm going to do my damnedest to write at least every other week between FAS, School, work, and band. Also, I am having a little competition of sorts with freelance beatnik. For every chapter she posts, I have to post one in return and vice versa. A little motivation goes a long way. So read on Borry lovers, read on!
"They named me Luthien, after the elf maiden. Do you know of her tale?"
A young, handsome man, no more than twenty-five years in age was leaning against a bookshelf of Minas Tirith's library. The man was rather tall, had the build of a solider, and the air of a leader. His disheveled hair was the palest of browns, his eyes a shade of piercing gray. He wore clothes that looked as if they had once been fine but were now worn and dirty with age and use, yet you could tell he was of noble descent simply by the way in which he carried himself.
He had caught sight of the young maid several weeks past; her beauty had entranced him after one glance. Day after day, he returned to the library to catch even the slightest glimpse of her. Day after day, she never failed to be there, reading books on elvish lore. However, day after day, she failed to notice him, or so he thought, until today.
The young man had been leaning against the bookshelves peering stealthily over the edge of his book to gaze at the maiden that sat before him. That is, until she caught his gaze. The man held her eyes with his before shifting his gaze quickly back to his book. Although he was not looking at her, he could still feel her eyes boring into him. That is when she spoke. Her voice was just as beautiful as the woman she was named for.
"Aye," the man had answered without looking up from the pages of his book. "Aye, I know her tale." He suddenly snapped the book shut and met he eyes once more.
Her hazel eyes pierced his gray ones. They were lighted with the devilish grin that was played across her lips. She did not speak nor move, save to brush one of her dark curls away from her fair and freckled face.
He held her gaze a few more moments as her eyes penetrated his, as if she could see his very soul, before taking a few silent strides toward her, setting his book gently down on the table. A he placed the book down, he quietly whispered, "You were named appropriately." The man smiled ever so slightly before turning his back to Luthien and walking quietly from the library.
Before he reached the exit Luthien called out, "Haven't you the courtesy to at least impart your name to me in return?"
The man stopped in his tracks but did not turn to face her, lest he meet her eyes again. He simply turned his head to gaze out the window to his right for a moment. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the maiden's blurry image. She had gotten to her feet. She was not terribly tall, but slim and agile by her looks. Her dark curls cascaded down past her chest. He hesitated a moment more before answering, "Boromir." He redirected his attention back to the door and continued on his way out the door and into the corridor.
Boromir stepped out into the sunlit streets of the White City, looked to the sky, and sighed. Women. Boromir was more suited to weaponry and armaments, not diplomacy and tactful speaking, something that needed to be amended before he succeeded his father as Steward or considered a relationship. His deficiency in said skills had never plagued him much until now. For the diplomacy tribulations that he would face as Steward he would always have his younger brother, Faramir, to look to.
As for relationships, Boromir had never considered that he would ever enter a relationship serious enough to require such skills, as he was more suitable for a life as a king of old, and never planned to take a wife. Unfortunately, Boromir had just spoken to the one woman that could possibly change his mind on the issue of relationships.
Boromir sighed once more before he began his ascent up to the seventh tier of the city. As he passed, most people seemed to overlook him, as if he were just another person in the crowded streets. The only people who paid Boromir any mind were those who belonged to the Tower Guard. Each guard acknowledged Boromir with a low bow and a mumbled "My Lord" as he passed. Each time Boromir raised his hand in response to their obeisance.
Boromir reached the sixth tier of the city and continued into an unoccupied courtyard of sorts. It was primarily used by members of the Tower Guard to maintain there skills when they were not at home or on duty. Boromir spent much of his leisure time in the courtyard honing his sword fighting skills. Today, instead of returning to his quarters to retrieve his sword, borrowed one of the training swords kept in a small storage shed in the courtyard.
Boromir stood in the center of the courtyard and began to swing his sword. He was focused, yet his thoughts could not help wandering to Luthien. His mind was so lost in thought he did not even hear someone slip into the courtyard.
Boromir managed to swing his sword once more before Faramir exploded from the courtyard's bushes with unexpected swiftness.
"My Brother!" he shouted as he lunged for his elder brother.
"Faramir!" shouted Boromir. "For the love of Elendil! What are you doing!
"I apologize, brother, but I have been searching all over the city for you. When I came here earlier you were not here. Where were you, Boromir?"
Boromir shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "I was just taking a walk, checking up on the guard, you know, things of that sort." Boromir walked back over to the sword shed and placed the borrowed sword back in its place. Before, Faramir could ask any more questions, Boromir asked "So, was there a reason for your search for me, or were you simply waiting for the ideal moment to jump out a bush to scare me?" Boromir said with a laugh. His brother antics, though juvenile, never failed to make Boromir laugh.
"Actually, brother, I was searching for you on our father's behalf. He wishes to speak with you."
Boromir sighed and rolled his eyes. "Did he say what it was regarding?"
"Actually, no. When I questioned him he simply told me it was official business, and it would only be entrusted to his first born." A shadow passed across Faramir's bright blue eyes. I was no secret that the Steward favored his elder son, something that drove both Faramir and Boromir to the point of insanity, but for different reasons.
Boromir resented it because he did not enjoy having all of the responsibilities placed upon him when his brother was perfectly capable of performing some of these duties. He also resented it because of the way it made Faramir feel. Boromir could see that it hurt his brother deeply. Faramir, on the other hand, felt a sense of hopelessness whenever his father entrusted "only his firstborn" with certain duties. No matter how hard Faramir tried to please his father, it was never good enough, and that fact was extremely disheartening.
Boromir sighed. "Well in that case, I suppose I should be off. Join me brother?"
Boromir and Faramir began the ascent to the seventh circle of the city, Boromir's thoughts turned once more on Luthien. Although he did not particularly wish to tell Faramir of the maiden at the moment, he had the feeling the time would soon come in which he would have to go to his younger brother for advice on the matter. Boromir sighed once more. There was no time like the present.
"Faramir, there's something I need to ask you about…"
Author's note: So that did not go as well as I had planned, but considering I don't want to fall behind and Freelance is ready to post the second chapter, I shall return and edit the hell out of this one later. I hoped you enjoyed it, bad grammar and vocabulary aside. I hope you keep on reading and don't for get to review. Complaints and criticism both welcome!
