The characters are messed up, I know. So what

––––––––––

"Lalalalalala...." The sound of off-key, tuneless singing knocked birds from their trees as Boromir walked by. Noticing that one still remained on its branch, he frowned and sang loudly, "LA." The bird fell and Boromir continued toward Gondor, considerably happier for the success of his "music'"

Upon reaching Gondor, he reluctantly stopped his singing; after he had started breaking 12 or more mirrors a day, Denethor had outlawed his songs, and to be safe, Faramir's as well. Despite the fact he didn't sing. It was a safety precaution everyone rejoiced at, except he whose "talent" was forbidden.

Walking down the streets, Boromir vaguely noticed that he had passed the same fountain 36 times or so. It irked him, but he really didn't have anything to do and it was hard to get un-lost if you weren't sure where to head anyway.

Around 4 hours later, Faramir found him continuing along a now-clear track around the fountain and a block or two of buildings and slapped a hand to his forehead. Grabbing Boromir by the arm, he dragged him in the direction of home, saying something about dinner and father.

Dinner waschaotic. As Denethor, thanks to years of practice, calmly ignored his sons, they took turns flinging food at each other when they thought no one was looking–a habit cultivated when they were very young that had somehow followed them out of toddlerhood.

Faramir was about to eat an unidentified vegetable when a piece of meat found his nose.

"Now boys–" Denethor's words were cut off by a flying carrot hitting his throat. "STOP!"

Both of his sons froze, Faramir taking the opportunity to lob a spoonful of potatoes in Boromir's eye; revenge for the meat.

"Now." Denethor was rather red in the face. "Which one of you did that?"

"What?" Boromir asked innocently.

"THIS!" He held up the offending carrot.

"He did it!" Both pointed to the other and Denethor sighed.

"Well unless one of you confesses, you'll both lose out on your next allowance!"

Boromir gasped. "But then we won't be able to buy more matches!"

Faramir was equally shocked and both fell about to trying to force the other to admit he did it.

"You did it, I saw you!"

"No, you did it!"

"I did not! It was you!"

"No, it was you!"

"Go to your rooms!" Denethor told them sternly. "And no dessert!"

Muttering and glaring darkly at each other, they did as they were told. Boromir got lost on the way and spent the rest of the night wandering. And trying to figure out why they lived in such a big home.

Upon finding his way to a large, half-opened window, Boromir began to wonder absently how people would react if he were gone and how well he could do as a wandering musician. As he surmised that everyone would most likely love his singing, the idea came: leave through the window and go to Rivendell to start off a shining career. Elves were fond of music, right?

Ignoring that little thing he assumed was his conscience, Boromir climbed out the window and began trying to scale the wall. In the end, he got down by falling, but somehow he managed not to get hurt and rose, grinning widely at his plan.

Boromir was loose.