Today was one of the bad days.

Rain was pouring, thunder was rumbling through the clouds, lightning was lighting up the sky every few minutes and everyone was tired. Unlike the rest of his companions, Boromir was scared. Scared of the thunder, the lightning but most of all he was scared of the darkness.

The hobbits were miserable at the turn in the weather. Usually full of cheer and smiles they were now all soaked through and hoping for a camp to be made. They were not the only ones. By now every member of the fellowship was tired and hoping for a place to rest for the night.

Gandalf had given up trying to raise their spirits to keep them going, and was now searching for a dry cave to rest in with Gimli. The disgruntled Dwarf was grumbling as he looked, yet was still able to point out how dwarfs were better at braving the elements then Elves.

The prince of Mirkwood was flicking his hair out of his eyes and trying to ignore the dwarf's comments. Droplets of rain were rolling down his cheeks and slightly tickling the skin beneath them was still not enough to make Legolas smile.

Aragorn was acting as rearguard again. Despite being a ranger and being used to everything the world could throw at you, it still wasn't enough to make him want to carry on. Watching the way the man in front of him was acting, he was almost certain that Boromir would do anything for a place to rest.

Indeed Boromir was acting strangely to the people watching him. Yet for once on this quest, he didn't seem to care what the others thought of him. He was too caught up in the images going through his mind. Memories of previous storms such as this one filled his mind and it made him shudder to remember.

"We shall rest here for the night." Gandalf called, and pointed to the mouth of a cave. "It is dry and shall serve as good shelter till the morrow. Now let us rest and eat." He had barely spoken these words before the rest of the fellowship were in the cave. All except one.

Boromir stood frozen outside of the entrance. Rain fell on his head and down his face as he stood, his eyes becoming dark as memories returned to haunt him. He didn't even see Aragorn approach him, and Boromir didn't know of his presence until Aragorn placed a hand on his shoulder. Jerking back slightly he realised who it was and breathed out a sigh of relief he didn't know he was holding.

"Boromir?" asked the ranger. "Are you feeling well?"

Avoiding the others' eyes Boromir nodded slowly, feeling glad that it was Aragorn and not Gandalf who had come out. The Istari always knew when he Boromir or his brother were lying, he could see it in their eyes.

"You have been looking pale since this storm began. Maybe you should come inside and rest for a while. The rest of us are going to after lighting a fire and having something to eat. There is no need to watch tonight, even Orcs would not be out in this weather."

"Fire." Realising that he had spoken without meaning to, Boromir lowered his head and studied the ground. Fire was good in a way. It meant light, to help chase away the shadows and warmth he was frightfully cold. But fire also meant other things. Pain, burning, punishment and a lot of other bad things were associated with fire.

Instinctively clutching at his arm Boromir lifted is head and saw Aragorn looking questioningly at him. "Yes. Fire." He repeated. "Boromir, are you sure you are well?"

"Yes." He answered, still avoiding the ranger's eyes. "I'm fine. I just" a sudden thunderclap stopped him mid sentence and caused him to instinctively wrap his arms about himself. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, he shuddered and tried to shut out everything around him. But Aragorn would not disappear.

The ranger placed a hand on Boromir's shoulder trying to comfort the Gondorian from his fears, only to be shrugged off and left standing in the rain while Boromir went into the chosen shelter. Aragorn followed silently and went to sit deep in the back of the cave to think.

Boromir however sat merely steps from the entrance and fire. Again his eyes had become dark as memories surfaced and began playing in his head. Pulling his knees to his chest he did not care that he looked like a wounded child, or that other members of the fellowship were watching his odd behaviour with worried eyes. Wrapping his arms around his legs all he could think, all he could see was the darkness.

He was so lost in his own thoughts he did not notice that someone was calling him until they tapped his shoulder. "Boromir?" startled he pulled away and clutched at his left arm just above the elbow, a gesture practised since childhood. Blinking to clear the fogginess over his eyes he gazed up at the speaker, only to find Legolas looking at him questioningly. "Would you like some food?"

Barely considering the question Boromir shook his head. "No. I'm not hungry. Thank you." Turning away again he began rubbing his arm unconsciously. Oblivious to the elf's look of concern he closed his eyes and let a shudder wrack his body as more thunder rumbled outside.

Legolas left the man and went to sit next to Aragorn at the back of the cave, where barely any of the firelight could reach. "Estel?" he whispered, barely audible to a human's ear, yet luckily this human had been raised by the elves of Rivendell and was able to hear him. Aragorn lifted his head wearily and gazed up at the clearly worried elf.

"What troubles you so mellon nin? (My friend)" he whispered back, glad that the elf's hearing was better than that of men, even one raised by elves.

Legolas crouched next to the man and sighed. "I fear for Boromir Estel." The elf glanced over his shoulder at the man in question and Aragorn did the same. "I fear there is something deeply troubling him. He has barely eaten all day, and I do not believe he shall rest either despite the fact that we are perfectly safe."

"He has barely uttered a word all day. It is most unlike him." Aragorn shook his head as he recalled how talkative Boromir had been since the quest began. Never hesitating to speak of the glory of Gondor or its history. Indeed the task at first was to get him to be silent, yet now it seemed he would not talk again.

"We must talk to him Estel. Something is not right. I can feel it." He watched as Boromir shuddered again when another streak of lightning lit up the sky. "There is more to this than a mere storm. See how he clutches his arm so? Come." He turned to his friend. "We must talk to him." Rising from his seat with the gracefulness all elves were born with he watched as the Gondorian pulled himself into a tighter ball, if that was possible.

Aragorn also rose from his seat, albeit not so gracefully, and followed his friend to the lighter area of the cave. The Hobbits had eaten and were now curled around each other like puppies in a basket on one side of the cave. Gandalf and Gimli had also retired to their beds, leaving the two men and elf as the only ones awake.

Boromir was caught in memories of long ago. Thunder was rattling round the great halls of his home. His brother was wailing and curled up in his own bed across the room, trying to keep away the fearful noises. Boromir wanted to go and comfort his brother. He wanted to hold him and hug him and prove that everything would be fine. But he couldn't, he knew what would happen if he did.

Faramir was shaking and wailing under the covers. His brother could hear the small sobs wracking his fragile body and being lost in the covers. The five year old had been perfectly asleep earlier, until the thunderstorm started. Then he had awoken and screamed for his brother, his mother and even his father. Faramir needed comfort, but no one could give him it.

Boromir felt the tears slide down his cheeks as he heard his brother wail out his fears of the noise. He wished he could run over and hold him tightly to whisper sweet soothing words in his ear. But he could not. Not if he wanted them to be left alone.

"Boromir?" Aragorn was seated right beside him and the Gondorian hadn't seen the man move. He was startled for a second but managed to hide it partially. Until there was another bolt of lightning. That was when he closed his eyes and managed to wedge his face between the other man's head and shoulder, so that he was pressed against his neck.

Legolas was taken aback when Aragorn merely shrugged to him and wrapped his arms around the younger man. Obviously used to handing out comfort, Aragon was handling the situation well by gently rubbing the brunette's back and hushing him quietly. The elf watched with interest. Elves did not know of pain, or hunger, or fatigue, or fear. So he was interested to see how the scene played out.

Legolas drew himself closer to the pair and looked at his friend's face for clues of what to do. He wanted to help the situation any way he could, but he wasn't sure of what to do. Elves were not sure of how to deal with emotions other than love. Slowly he reached out his hand and began gently patting Boromir's shoulder like his friend was doing. This seemed to calm the human down slightly and Legolas smiled to himself; glad that he had helped.

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