Boromir and Everyone

Boromir: Have you ever seen it, Aragorn? The White Tower of Ecthelion, glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver, its banners caught high in the morning breeze. Have you ever been called home by the clear ringing of silver trumpets?
Aragorn: I have seen the White City, long ago.
Boromir: One day, our paths will lead us there and the tower guard will take up the call: The Lords of Gondor have returned.

#1: Brothers

Ever since he was young he has known that he was the Golden Boy and Faramir…wasn't. There were times where Boromir, in a fit of adolescent naughtiness, had pinned some of his more questionable crimes on his younger brother. And Faramir had taken it all, and still looked at Boromir like the sun rose and set on him every day.

That's why he went on the journey of the Ring. Not for his father, or for Gondor, but for that little spark in his baby brother's eyes, assuring him that he was something special.

#2: Experience

He was the only member of the Fellowship with a younger brother. Aragorn grew up with the elves of Rivendell and was unofficially the youngest of the four, Legolas was the youngest of seven, Gimli the youngest of three. Most of the hobbits were only children. And Gandalf…well, Boromir was fuzzy on the exact origins of wizards.

Maybe that's what made him so good with the little hobbits, because for all of their tom-foolery and mischief were genuinely good people. In his mind, all four names of the hobbits became synonymous with Faramir.

Perhaps that was why he tried his utmost to protect them. He couldn't imagine Faramir experiencing the horrors of war. Why should these hobbits have to do the same?

#3: Questions

"Hullo, Faramir." Boromir knelt down until he was level with his brother, five years his junior. "Do you know how old you are today?"

Faramir scrunched up his face and gazed at his fingers, counting them carefully, seriously. "One…two…tree! I'm tree!" Boromir laughed and hugged the tot, pulling him up into the air.

Faramir patted Boromir's hair with his hands as they walked through the Citadel. "Bo? How old do I has to be afore I'm older than you?"

How do you explain age and mathematics to a child? "Little one, you can never be older than I. I'll always be your big brother." Borormir hugged Faramir hard, "I'll always be around to take care of you."

#4: Promise Unfulfilled

Faramir watched his brother's body slowly move down the stream. He snagged from the boat the horn he'd always been so jealous of but nothing else. He wouldn't bury the body of his brother so far from home. Pain had not yet touched him, nor grief. He felt just a profound sense of emptiness, of loss, as he'd felt for days now. "I thought you'd always be around to care for me, brother."

The small ship continued its journey, and Faramir could only kneel in the river and cry.

#5: Give

"Here." Boromir gave Frodo the last of his salted meat. "I will go hunting tomorrow. Split this between you."

He walked away before he could see the gratitude on the faces of four little ones that should never have gone hungry.

#6: Take

He did go hunting, on the bank of the Anduin with Legolas. The elf moved soundlessly beside him, something Boromir had thought he'd gotten used to during their long journey. He concluded that he would never be used to elves. Borormir sensed a movement to his left and shot without thinking. A half-second later, Legolas did the same thing.

They didn't talk as they stood over their kill, a young doe, a fat doe. Boromir dropped to the ground and began taking strips of bark and leaves to transport the kill back to their camp. As he went, he murmured a soft prayer for the soul of the creature, to ensure it would find its way into the afterlife.

When he looked up, he saw the elf looking at him strangely. "I have never seen a man praise the meat he has killed."

Boromir harrumphed. He knew that elves thought they had the market cornered on sentimentality, "Sorry to disappoint." But a smile flitted across Legolas' face, and somehow Boromir was wearing one of his own.

#7: Pride

Boromir was a proud man. He was proud that he could shoot straight and ride well and hold his liquor. He was proud that he could dance beautifully and sing well enough to make ladies swoon. He was proud he could fight his foes and defend his honor. He was proud that he was able to be in the Fellowship.

Most of all, Boromir was proud that he could protect his brother.

#8: Consequences

"Father, will Faramir be joining us for supper?" Boromir finally worked up the courage to ask halfway through the second course. His father didn't even look up from his meal.

"Faramir has disgraced me in front of a trader. He will not receive his supper until he has learned to be respectful to his betters."

Boromir had to bite his tongue to keep from retorting that his shy, polite little brother would never have dishonored their father by being rude to his guests. He couldn't even say that it was wrong for a four-year-old boy to be denied supper, because his father glared at him coolly until Boromir bent his head down to his food, vision swimming with tears.

#9: Bond

It took Boromir twenty minutes of searching before he found Faramir in one of the inner courtyards. The doors had been barred and the young boy was trapped in the small, grassy area, curled in a ball against a corner to escape the cold.

Boromir shook his little brother until he blinked sleepily, yawning to reveal a pink tongue, a small double-row of baby teeth. Without question, Faramir draped his arms over Boromir's shoulders and let his older brother carry him into the house.

"I tried to be good, Bo, but father got mad at me when I talked to the man." The drowsy voice made Boromir's heart clench painfully. "And I is hungry now." And cold, soaked through, on his way to a fever. Boromir wrapped his arms more securely around the little boy in his arms, promising himself that this would never happen again.

#10: Words

"Uruktharban?" Boromir repeated incredulously as Araogrn explained the plan. "We cannot possibly go through there."

Gimli's head jerked up at the old word. "How do you know Uruktharban? Even most dwarves today call it Khazad-dum."

Boromir hadn't even known that the word he'd used was outdated. "My father did a lot of trading with dwarves. I picked up on some of the language." He thought for a moment, then let out a line of guttural syllables that made sense only to Gimli.

"Ah! Finally, someone who can speak my own aglab, my language. You're accent it terrible but felek-ghan, you will get better."

And that's how Gimli learned to trust Boromir.

#11: Betrayal

He had never wanted a lot of power. He just wanted power enough o preserve his way of life, and wasn't that a noble thing? Wouldn't that help people beyond himself, beyond little Frodo and this strange little ring?

So he attempted to take the Ring, because otherwise it would never go to Gondor, to his dying culture and dying people. Boromir was doing his duty, because as any good commander knew, the good of the many outweighed the good of the few. Or the one.

#12: Wizard

Boromir wasn't sure if Gandalf ever really trusted him, and if he bought his way into the old man's heart at all, it was because of little Frodo and the other hobbits.

He didn't know what it was about the tiny folk that made him think of his own brother and the children he'd seen in Gondor. Perhaps it was the way Pippin rubbed his eyes with his balled fist when he was getting tired of walking, or the small weight of Merry in his arms on the days the snow was simply over the little folk's heads, or the way Sam and Frodo tried to be independent, older, but still enjoyed tackling the Gondorian to the ground during their sword-training sessions.

And Gandalf would just watch on and, sometimes, very rarely, he would smile.

#13: Children

In Gondor there were children. Small ones for the most part, scavengers, orphans, darting to and fro through the tiers of the citadel. They would always stop in their tracks when they saw young Boromir come towards them, then smile happily and run into his arms or on his back or follow him through the streets, because Boromir gave them food and small toys, distractions to their dismal lives.

Because really, in his heart of hearts, Boromir was one of the good guys.

#14: Emotion

When little Pip climbed into his lap and hugged him, his weight barely registering to Boromir, and promised, softly, to be his little brother, if he wanted, all Boromir could do was hug back, fiercely, protectively, all too aware of the fragile life in his arms, so like his little brother and so fundamentally different.

#15: Trust

"The outer section of Osgiliath burned yesterday." The squire knelt before Boromir's father, covered in soot and coughing, "They are in need of aid, and shelter…" He trailed off, cowering as the Steward stared, then listed all the reasons why aid would be unwise for a country in need of funds.

And Boromir, seven, watching from the sides, learned never to trust his father again.

#16: Learn

Boromir was skilled with a blade and bow, combat and diplomacy, but he had never understood the subtle differences between edible food and their poisonous kin.

Watching the hobbits snake through the bushes larger than themselves, picking berries seemingly at random and grinning up at the big man as they ate handfuls of the food, Boromir knew he had a lot to learn.

#17: Too Late

Of all the people in the Fellowship, Boromir had known Gandalf for the shortest time. He'd known the wizard as Mithrandir, who used to come into the city with vague prophesies of a King who would take his father's throne, of a war that would turn the world upside-down. When he was a lad, Mithrandir would look at him and tut to himself, saying that Boromir's fate was not yet sealed, he could prove himself worthy yet.

So when the old man fell in Khazad-dum, it was Boromir who began leading away from the crags, Boromir who took out the bandages and patched up his friends, Boromir who watched, detached, as the Fellowship crumbled around him. Because Boromir would be strong, even if it was too late, perhaps, to change his fate.

#18: Duty

"Brother," Faramir catches up with Boromir in the courtyard, clutching at the older boy's sleeve and flinching when the teen turned around.

"What, Fare?" Boromir cups the ten-year-old's chin and examines his bruised face, bleeding mouth. "Are you alright? Do you need me to walk you to the healer's?"

Faramir blanched at the thought of an escort. "No, Bo." Faramir said quickly, using the childhood nick-name, "I thank you, brother, for intervening when you did. I will repay you…"

Here is where Boromir touches his younger brother's bleeding lips, "Little brother, there is nothing to repay between us. And there never will be." Boromir tousled the soft brown locks, "I'm just doing my job."

#19: Peace

Legolas didn't trust him, and that probably had something to do with a teenaged Boromir pushing Aragorn off the fourth level of the citadel years back. So Boromir danced cautiously around the elf, almost never speaking directly to the oldest member of the Fellowship.

It was the hobbits. For some reason, it always seemed to come back to the hobbits. When Legolas saw how gentle Boromir was being with the small folk, talking to them and laughing and helping them learn to spar, and spar well, the old elf softened, and one night he came over to Boromir and sat down beside him as the man tried to re-bandage a wound he'd sustained in the flight from the mines.

"Let me help….I have some herbs." And Legolas' hands were impossibly gentle, his medicines incredibly soothing. The beginning of the peace between them, a peace that would last until Boromir's death.

#20: Worth

He wanted to give the hobbits a fighting chance, especially Pippin, little Pip, who had offered to be his little brother, who had squirmed onto his lap and into the hearts of every member of the Fellowship.

So he jumped to their defense, even though it was suicide, even though he knew that the hobbits would likely be captured anyway, because after the day he'd had, after Frodo, he needed to prove that he was still worthy of the Fellowship.

#21: Fellowship

It was an odd word, really, one that wasn't quite the same as friendship, more like mutual business partners, really.

Except they weren't.

The four hobbits were already friends, bubbly, bouncy tykes who were as liable to hug each other as they were to tackle each other to the ground. Legolas and Aragorn were quiet, close, like brothers. Gandalf, for the brief time Boromir knew him, was like the grandfather of the group, gruff, stern, but always wanting the younger generation to succeed. And Gimli was the noisy oddball who filled the entire room, whose bark was always worse than his bite, who smiled often and laughed loudly.

Boromir didn't quite know where he fit in, he just knew that from the very beginning, what he'd really wanted when he set out on the quest was a place in the strange family.

#22: Cold

Boromir was from a warm city. Gondor was South – not like the Southern land beyond Mordor, but it didn't get cold, which was probably why he wasn't reacting well to the extreme temperatures of the Misty Mountains.

But he was what his brother called a terminally nice guy, and that wasn't going to change, even in the coldest environment he'd ever been in.

"Here." Boromir tossed his blanket over to the hobbits, shivering a few paces away from the fire, trying to pretend that they, too, were not from a warm area. "The little one is starting to turn blue." He was cold now, but at least he knew the Halflings would survive the night.

#23: Role

Boromir was a fighter, a soldier, Faramir was the diplomat. His little brother wasn't as hot-tempered or as stubborn as he was, and was better with languages. Actually, Boromir had asked his father specifically to give Faramir the job, because he couldn't stand the thought of his baby brother on the front lines of a war.

But what that amounted to was the fact that Boromir had never been to Rivendell, so he couldn't quite stop gaping when he saw it for the first time. "You'll get used to it, laddie. These elves just like showing off." Gimli murmured as he walked by. Boromir could only smirk, shoulder his pack, and follow.

#24: Defense

"Faramir," Boromir said seriously after escorting Faramir to the healer's for the third time that week, courtesy of the little brats that would pick on his younger brother. "How would you like to spar with me? It will be fun!" He kept his voice upbeat, optimistic, and Faramir jumped at the chance to spend time with his big brother, who forever seemed to be going places without him. He could never know that the fun play sessions were actually self-defense lessons, or that those lessons would one day save his life.

#25: Inheritance

It was hard for Boromir to be around Aragorn, because in his heart of hearts he knew that Aragorn was everyone people said he was, that he was the heir to the throne of Gondor, the throne of his city, and though he knew that his father was bitter, corrupt, he didn't know how he felt about having his inheritance stolen from him by a Ranger of the North.

But for some reason, he wanted to please the older man, the only other real man on this journey, because there was something in Aragorn's eyes when you impressed him, a gleam of light, and the first time he saw it, Boromir knew that he wanted to continue to impress Aragorn for the rest of his life, even if it meant de-throning his own father.

#26: Honor

It took Boromir years to figure out that he was fighting to erase the name of his father from the memories of his people, that he tried to be good in order to make up for his father's evil. He fought for honor his entire life, but it seemed that in the end the most honorable thing he did was get shot while letting those two little hobbits get captured.

He died with honor, and perhaps, just perhaps, that was enough.

#27: Girls

Was Boromir the only one who found it odd that no one in the Fellowship was married? Not only were Aragorn and Legolas probably the most eligible bachelors this side of the Misty Mountains, but they were heirs (albeit longshots) to two separate thrones. And Gimli, who had spent most of his life around his own race and had never tied the knot. The hobbits he forgave, especially when he learned that the youngest, Pip (who was by far his favorite, though he knew he shouldn't be choosing) was only the human equivalent of twelve.

Boromir himself wasn't married, but that was because he was a soldier, because he was liable to die at any time, not because there wasn't a girl in the white city that he'd left behind, a girl who cried into her pillow the night he left, a girl who he'd loved since childhood, who he would have married if he'd come out of that Quest alive.

#28: Prayer

"Who are you talking to?" Frodo asked quietly, watching as Boromir went through his daily rituals of prayer.

Boromir thought of the war, of his brother, now undoubtedly fighting in it, of being so far away from home. "No one." He said, and for one horrible moment he thought that might be the truth.

#29: Present

Boromir had been fighting, the seemingly never-ending battle over Osgiliath, but he managed to get back the day before his brother's birthday. "I know our father doesn't choose to acknowledge your birthday." Boromir watched the newly fifteen-year-old's face fall and continued fast, "But I do care. One day, you will be a great diplomat, but you will still be a man, and every man needs to be able to defend their self." Boromir drew out the sword he'd commissioned two months ago and handed it to his brother. "I never wanted you to fight, but from now on I will teach you. No little brother of mine will die on his enemy's sword."

And Faramir never did.

#30: Sacrifice

"Thank you." The voice in his ear was sincere and Boromir managed to twist his features into something that resembled a smile, even as his scarlet blood dripped onto the snow, past Legolas' nimble, capable white fingers, past the multitude of bandages, "Oh, Boromir, thank you."

"I would do it again." Boromir vowed, even as his teeth began to stain with blood, as his he began to gag at the coppery taste. He managed to tilt his head just the right way so that Aragorn (who would take his father's throne, he was sure of it now, Aragorn, who he'd just saved) leaned close. "Take care of my country, my brother."

That night, Boromir became the first official casualty of the war of the Ring.

#31: Teacher

"Come on," Boromir was on his knees, on the hobbit level, "Don't worry, I'm a big bad warrior, you guys will never be able to – oof!"

He'd been taken off guard as all four – even the more withdrawn Frodo – came at him at once, the sticks they were using as training swords brandished. Boromir rolled with the impact, then twisted so that his body lay over the four tiny beings, using his arms to support most of his weight so he was only pinning the hobbits, not crushing them. And all were laughing.

#32: Question

"Father, where is Faramir?" Boromir had returned from the latest skirmish on the outer realm of Gondor, near Mordor. Usually his brother greeted him at the front gate, asking after his wounds, his soldiers, his battles.

Denethor barely looked up from his breakfast plate. "Your brother has been sent to protect this city, as you have done. To the Western border."

"Isengard?" Boromir gaped, then turned away before he could speak to his father in a way that would surely displease the Steward. Faramir had turned eighteen a fortnight before, had never been in battle.

Boromir retired to his room that night, certain he'd never see his brother again.

#33: Song

The ditty was an old one, a bawdy song Boromir knew from his youth, but the tune was simple and the refrain easy and verses could be invented when needed. It was exactly the kind of thing the Fellowship needed in the long, cold days of walking.

#34: One White Tree

It was a lay known only by the oldest men in the city, one that Boromir had memorized when he was young. He would climb into the branches of the white tree and sit there, trying to imagine the branches in full bloom. Tall ships and tall kings, he would recite, three times three. What brought them over the foundered land over the flowing sea?

And, always, at least in Boromir's memory, at that moment Faramir would find him, would climb in the branches beside him. Seven stars and seven stones, the little boy would answer. And one white tree.

When he died on the banks of the Anduin, the last sight he saw wasn't Aragorn or his own blood, but the shining, beautiful white tree. And it was in bloom.

And that's how Boromir knew it was okay to die.

#35: Stars

"That one over there is Gaharas, a brave knight who was punished by Clorion, the King of the Gods, because Gaharas was in love with his oldest daughter Presophe. To make sure he stayed away from Presophe, Clorion put him up in the sky with a mission to hunt down the Garan, the River Horse." Boromir allowed himself a smirk. "An impossible mission. The River Horse is a summer constellation."

He was suddenly aware of not only the hobbits staring at him with rapt attention, but Aragorn and Gandalf, too. Boromir rolled over, half-listening to the hobbits chat contentedly to themselves, and found himself wondering why fathers insisted on giving their sons tasks too tremendous to possibly carry out.

#36: Embrace

It was always his favorite memory – and despite the change in scenery, change in age, it really was just one memory. He would come back from a battle (somehow, the battles never seemed to cease) and Faramir would seek him out, snag him before the mandatory de-briefing with the higher ups.

"Are you okay, brother?" The compassion laced in Faramir's voice was always enough to make Boromir smile, despite whatever injuries he was carrying. Because at the end of the day, the only person who cared, really cared whether Boromir lived or died was his little brother.

#37: Safe

Boromir opened his eyes without knowing what had caused him to jerk out of his peaceful slumber. His hand was on his knife before he completely registered the tiny hobbit, snuggling into his blanket after being kicked out of the communal puppy-pile the Halflings usually slept in. He debated for a second about moving the lad, then shrugged to himself and put his head down, falling back to sleep with one arm draped over his new charge.

#38: Treat

There was no two ways about it: Boromir hated lembas bread. Had always hated it, ever since an older man, after a long night's ride, had offered him some with a smile. To him, it had no taste.

It was the hobbits, the little hobbits who had somehow become so dear to him in those months they spent trekking across the mountains, who knew this, who somehow saw his distaste at the flavor of the bread. It was the hobbits who would put berries, fish, meat in his pack, the hobbits would giggle when he drew them out, sharing them, eating everything but that damned lembas bread.

#39: Leader

He rose in ranks quickly, becoming lieutenant and then commander of his own battalion of soldiers. He was a tough leader, a hard leader, but he had the respect of every one of the men under his command. Because he'd deserved it. Because he genuinely cared about the people he was fighting alongside of, and if he was tough on them to learn how to fight it was because he didn't want them dying in battle.

Boromir was a hard man, a tough man, but he was the most respected figure in Gondor. Maybe that's why it seemed to be that it was just after his death when all Hell broke loose.

#40: Orcs

It was, strangely, the one thing they could all relate on. Legolas made a remark, one day, in an uncharacteristically bitter tone, that he would have no home to return to, that orcs were overrunning Mirkwood and the strength of all his brothers wasn't enough to keep it at bay. Gimli seconded this, saying that the mines of his cave-dwelling people were forever under siege by the ruthless race.

Boromir kept his face carefully impassive, though Aragorn caught him running a hand over an old white scar, stretched tight over the skin of his forearm as if he'd sustained the wound as a child.

#41: Game

They indulged in games, because even those who should know better - that is to say, everyone who wasn't a hobbit, those who had grown up in the way of the warrior - got bored with the endless monotony of marching.

The favorite game was "Where's Pippin?" (though it occasionally became 'Where's Merry?' when the other Halfling chose to play) and involved the youngest member of the Fellowship darting forward or running off the path, soft feet padding and leaving no trace, until the other members of the Felowship would begin to talk among themselves.

"Aragorn, my brother, have you seen young Pippin to-day?"

"Not since noon meal. Gimli, have you caught sight of little Pip?"

"Not hide nor hair. Legolas?"

"No sign. Where could he have gone?" By this time, even Frodo and Sam, usually carefully stoic, were grinning broadly, and even Gandalf would chuckle to himself.

Of course, in the end, Pippin always gave away his position, because he just couldn't help the peals of laughter he let out when Boromir pounced on him, tousling his hair and playing as he would with any child in his kingdom.

#42: Truth

Boromir thought that many things were wrong in his world, but sitting next to his brother, feeling the weight of his arm or head on his shoulder…well, perhaps that was the only real truth there was.

#43: Accident

He drew his sword back, wiped the sweat and blood from out of his eyes, and looked, really looked, at the pile of bodies around him. They were orcs, Uruk'hai, assorted goblins…and a soldier from his own battalion, the same age as he, lying dead with wounds obviously inflicted by Boromir's own sword.

#44: Conversation

"Are you going to war, brother?"

"I have to."

"You are awfully young."

"I have a duty to my country. Besides, I'm nearly nineteen."

Faramir paused, gazed out the window, curled his fists in an expression of teen angst. "You're awfully young." He leaned against Boromir, something he hadn't done since he'd entered puberty. "Don't die, Bo."

"I can't, little brother. Who would be around to look after you?"

#45: Trip

As it turned out, hobbits didn't know how to swim, and they didn't like water. Oh, it was fine when they were bathing and could touch the bottom with their feet, but when Gimli suggested they just wade through a stream instead of walking two hours around it, the usually complacent Halflings began to protest.

"We'll carry you." Boromir said carefully, already sorting out the packs and redistributing them to make the weight easier to bear. "You don't weigh much of anything anyway."

Pippin immediately scrambled into Boromir's arms, throwing his arms around his neck. Boromir also picked up Merry, the second smallest, since Gimli would have a tough enough time keeping himself afloat.

Pippin let out a peal of laughter when the water hit his backside, then settled his head in the crook of Boromir's neck for the remainder of the ride. "Thank you, Bo." He said, already chattering with Merry about a place called Buckleberry, and a ferry.

So of course he wasn't looking at Boromir's face, frozen at the sudden use of his brother's childhood nickname.

#46: Little Ones

"They took the little ones!" Boromir cried helplessly, clasping Aragorn's hand in his, unable even to look at his chest, pierced through with arrows. It was the first thing he said because it was the most important. He would die knowing he failed to protect those he'd come to love.

#47: Shield

On the way out of Rivendell, it was Legolas who stood in front of him, barring his path, eyebrows creased in thought. "You shouldn't carry that. It's too heavy."

Back then, Boromir hadn't known the elf well enough to tease him, just brushed by with a scathing look. He'd been carrying a shield since he was twelve.

And when he threw it up during that avalanche, blocking most of the snow and a rock that would have split Legolas' skull in two…well, no one ever told him to leave the shield behind again.

#48: Drink

He drank until he forgot the fury on his father's face, present every time the Steward looked at his youngest son. He drank until he forgot the stench of battle, the fatigue that came with minutes and hours of slaughter. He drank until he forgot the cadence of Faramir's voice as he begged his older brother not to leave him behind. He drank until he forgot the last promise he made before joining the Fellowship, a promise to a young man (who would always be a young boy to his older brother ) to return home in one piece.

#49: Loyalty

Faramir rushed to the Houses of Healing only to find his path blocked by two hundred or more men, soldiers, Boromir's men. He wanted, needed to see his brother so much that he could have screamed at the mass of obstacles in his way, would have, too, if he didn't know that these men were there because Boromir had protected his army just as fiercely as he protected his brother.

#50: Love

Boromir was a leader of the army of Gondor, a great leader, a great strategist, and as a general he would lay down his life for any one of his men. It was in his oath, but more importantly, it was in his nature. And his men, because they were undyingly loyal to him, would lay down their lives to save their commander.

But it was only when he joined the Fellowship that Boromir found people who would kill for him, die for him, not out of a sense of duty or honor, but because of that inexplicable bond that occurred between people in it together for the long haul. Only with Faramir had Boromir experienced that kind of bond, and therefore he gave his relationship with the other members of the Fellowship the same name.

Because, in the end, all he had left was love.

So the same system goes with this chapter as the other ones. Pick a couple of drabbles you really like and mention them to us in a review. Next chapter will be an expanded, one-shot version of the drabble most people liked.