eachdraidhean (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
eachdraidhean) wrote2005-06-12 01:11 am
eachdraidhean) wrote2005-06-12 01:11 am
Melting
Title: Melting
Pairing: A/B
Summary: Boromir’s thoughts while waiting for Gandalf to remember the way in Moria
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Characters and places not mine - they belong to J. R. R. Tolkien & New Line
Notes: Also posted to "Rugbytackle", "Sons of Gondor" and "Bean Squee".
Beta: not beta-ed
Feedback: Would love it!
Archive: Rugbytackle. Anyone else, just ask first
Just a short schmoopy fic.
Also posted to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
rugbytackle, sons_of_gondor and bean_squee.
Melting
The snow of Carahadras had reached deep inside me, freezing my heart, and now the darkness of Moria closes around me. I long for open fields, fresh air. I can hardly breath this rank air, and have to force it into my lungs.
I'm not unused to discomfort. Long service in the Gondorian army takes away the need for a soft bed, although the want of it still lingers.
So we are lost in the dark. The wizard sits staring at rocks waiting for inspiration, and we wait. Time passes slowly with little to do and the oppressive nature of our surroundings has subdued even Merry and Pippin.
My own thoughts weigh heavily on my mind. I am travelling with a group of people I hardly know to Mordor, to destroy the one great advantage Gondor could have had over the enemy, and this is not what disturbs me most. I saw Aragorn's hand tighten on his sword as the ring hung on its chain from my fingers. His eyes like steel, leaving me in no doubt that he would use it if I forced him to.
I saw regret at his own forced actions linger on his face as I handed the ring back to Frodo and turned away. I feel that regret too. Just as I was beginning to think of him as a comrade in arms, just as we were beginning to know each other, to talk to each other, to relax in each other's presence, I lose his trust. I let my head hang low, examining the rocks below my feet, so lost in my thoughts that an apple thrust in front of my face startles me.
I reach out and take it from his hand. As I look up to give a nod of thanks, he sits down on the rock beside mine, and smiles. That soft, lopsided smile that he seems unconscious of. I smile back, and bite into the gift he has given me.
Sweet, firm flesh fills my mouth, reminding me of better places, better times. Reminding me that there is a world outside this cold, dank rock. But what raises my spirits most is the warmth I feel radiating from the smile of the Ranger.
Pairing: A/B
Summary: Boromir’s thoughts while waiting for Gandalf to remember the way in Moria
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Characters and places not mine - they belong to J. R. R. Tolkien & New Line
Notes: Also posted to "Rugbytackle", "Sons of Gondor" and "Bean Squee".
Beta: not beta-ed
Feedback: Would love it!
Archive: Rugbytackle. Anyone else, just ask first
Just a short schmoopy fic.
Also posted to
rugbytackle, sons_of_gondor and bean_squee.Melting
The snow of Carahadras had reached deep inside me, freezing my heart, and now the darkness of Moria closes around me. I long for open fields, fresh air. I can hardly breath this rank air, and have to force it into my lungs.
I'm not unused to discomfort. Long service in the Gondorian army takes away the need for a soft bed, although the want of it still lingers.
So we are lost in the dark. The wizard sits staring at rocks waiting for inspiration, and we wait. Time passes slowly with little to do and the oppressive nature of our surroundings has subdued even Merry and Pippin.
My own thoughts weigh heavily on my mind. I am travelling with a group of people I hardly know to Mordor, to destroy the one great advantage Gondor could have had over the enemy, and this is not what disturbs me most. I saw Aragorn's hand tighten on his sword as the ring hung on its chain from my fingers. His eyes like steel, leaving me in no doubt that he would use it if I forced him to.
I saw regret at his own forced actions linger on his face as I handed the ring back to Frodo and turned away. I feel that regret too. Just as I was beginning to think of him as a comrade in arms, just as we were beginning to know each other, to talk to each other, to relax in each other's presence, I lose his trust. I let my head hang low, examining the rocks below my feet, so lost in my thoughts that an apple thrust in front of my face startles me.
I reach out and take it from his hand. As I look up to give a nod of thanks, he sits down on the rock beside mine, and smiles. That soft, lopsided smile that he seems unconscious of. I smile back, and bite into the gift he has given me.
Sweet, firm flesh fills my mouth, reminding me of better places, better times. Reminding me that there is a world outside this cold, dank rock. But what raises my spirits most is the warmth I feel radiating from the smile of the Ranger.