Title: Shoulder the Sky, My Lads
Word Count: 1,029 + Words
Rating: G
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Characters: Boromir, Gimli
Beta: [personal profile] just_ann_now
Challenges: Birthday Giftfic '10, [profile] fanfic_100 prompt #92 Christmas (or the ME equivalent)
Summary: In Rivendell, Gimli and Boromir spend some time below stairs.

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The troubles of our proud and angry dust
Are from eternity, and shall not fail.
Bear them we can, and if we can we must.
Shoulder the sky, my lad, and drink your ale.
(A.E. Housman)


"Come!" called a gruff voice from a ways ahead. "Elrond keeps his beer-barrels down this way, if Tharkûn spoke truly.”

Boromir squinted in the faint light – there were no torches mounted on the walls of this corridor, and the dwarf carried their only lamp – and he hurried to close the distance between them. The toe of his boot caught on the uneven floor, and he stumbled, catching himself against the frame of a nearby door. He would blame the late hour, or the poor light, if someone else had asked, but to himself he admitted the truth: Elven liquor was more potent than he had thought.

“Tharkûn?” he asked as he righted himself and made his way toward the lamp-light. “I cannot place that name, though I may have heard it once.”

“Tharkûn.” The dwarf turned to face him. “He was at the Council. An old man, to all appearances. Do you know him?”

“Ah,” Boromir said, as he nodded with comprehension. “He lived for some time in my city, when my brother and I were much younger. That is where I have heard the name. Mithrandir among the Elves, Tharkûn to the Dwarves; Olorin I was in my youth in the West that is forgotten; so he said.”

Something about that made the dwarf chuckle to himself. “The world is full enough with strange folk; one name for each is more than enough to remember.

“Aye!” Boromir laughed in earnest at that, for it seemed that he had met too many folk in the last few weeks, and that every time he met them they went by a different name. Gildor, Inglorion. Tharkûn, Gandalf, Mithrandir. Dunadan, Estel, Strider... Aragorn. He wondered at that last one, how a humble ranger came to bear a royal name, but then thought better of it. He must have drained a half-dozen cups of strong wine already, and such questions deserved more delicacy than he could muster just now.

But he could solve another mystery. He had been introduced to the troop of dwarves, just before Elrond's council four weeks hence, but for some reason he could not quite recall his companion's name. Courtesy forbade him ask it again, but perhaps wit would reveal it once more.

“In the south we are known by one name, and one name alone.” He made an over-elaborate bow. “Boromir uin-Gondor, of the House of Húrin.”

“Gimli, son of Glóin, at your service and your family's,” the dwarf countered. Gimli set the lamp down and bowed so low that his beard brushed the packed-dirt floor; Boromir thought the dwarf's lips twitched in a suppressed smile, though he could not be sure under the thick beard. After a moment's pause Gimli added more seriously, “But you have no need of subterfuge, if you could not recall who I was. You met me after a long journey, and alongside many of my kin. Single name or no, I might confuse one of us for the other if we were similarly introduced, and can hold you to no higher a standard.”

Boromir blushed a little at that, and hoped it went unnoticed in the dark. “Your open manner encourages me. Will you allow me one more question?”

“Questions asked on the Longest Night need not be spoken on after-days, by dwarven tradition,” Gimli replied, “but you may ask what you will of me, whenever you wish.”

Boromir marveled at that. He could scarce imagine any of the men of his father's court saying such words, much less meaning them. Yet he sensed he could trust this dwarf, though he hardly knew him. Boromir said, “You spoke earlier of Mithrandir – Tharkûn – you said he told you where the ale was stored. Why him? How did he know?”

Gimli picked up his lamp and walked on down the hall. “Because Tharkûn brought this ale some years ago, in honor of Dain Ironfoot's's fiftieth year as King Under the Mountain. And the Elves will not touch the stuff!” He wrinkled his nose at that. “They seem to prefer wine to richer brews, the fools. Few enough dwarves have passed through Rivendell for years, save this last month, and it was Tharkûn who thought I might enjoy a mug or three.” He drew a key from his pocket and fit it into the door. “But tonight is the Longest Night, and this night should be spent in the company of good friends – so say my people. And I would make you a friend, Boromir of Gondor. This night seems fitting to make a start at that.”

Gimli held open the door, and Boromir walked in. It was a store-room, the kind of place that was the domain of servants in Minas Tirith. He and Faramir had snuck into the Citadel’s cellars once or twice, but they had always had been after contraband of some sort or another, and so Boromir had never taken the time to look closely. But this was a hidden kingdom, full of delicious smells, and Boromir inhaled. Casks large and small lined one wall, with a shelf of pewter plates and mugs overhead. Opposite, barrels of fruit were stacked precariously: apples and pears, and some prickly-skinned plant that Boromir could not even place; dried herbs hung from the rafters. Several stools were stacked out of the way in a corner.

The dwarf retrieved two of them and set them in the small room’s only free space while Boromir saw to the drinks. He took two mugs from a shelf, tapped the beer-barrel, and filled them. He handed Gimli a mug. “Will you teach me a song from your homeland? A song of hearth and dwarf-women?”

Gimli tapped his mug against Boromir's and took the first sip. “I am no teacher,” he said, “but I will trade like for like. Have you songs enough to share?”

Boromir drank half his mug in a mighty gulp and wiped the foam from his lip with his sleeve. “You ask a soldier for drinking songs? I have enough to last till the sun awakes, or at the least till the barrel's drained dry. But I asked first, so the first song must be yours.”
Title: First Glance
Word Count: 662 + Notes
Rating: G
Challenge: b2wm 2010 #2, fanfic_100 table #01 - beginnings
Fandom: LOTR
Characters: Boromir, Theodred
Warnings: Contains theme of slash, but still very much G-rated.
Summary: How it all began - for one of them, at least.

Read more... )
[ar] NiRi,[pl] Gondor,[tp] 3rd Age,[fm] 290x150


Title: A Game Well-Played
Fandom: Lord of the rings
Characters: Denethor, Faramir, OCs (Boromir mentioned)
Prompt: BMEM09 Day 19; [livejournal.com profile] fanfic100 #27, "parents"
Word Count: 1,711 + Notes
Rating: General
Beta: Annmarwalk
Summary: On lessons learned across the chess-board.

Read more... )
[ar] NiRi,CUSTOMIZED


Title: Catharsis
Fandom: Lord of the Rings
Characters: Boromir
Prompt: BMEM Day 10; fanfic100 prompt #51
Word Count: 857
Rating: General
Warning: Deals with (canonical) character death, and with spiritual themes.
Summary: In "Windows on the West", Faramir tells us that Boromir's funeral boat traveled down Anduin and at last reached the sea. But who's to say it stopped there?

[ar] NiRi,[pl] Gondor,[rc] Men,[ms] Objects,[fm] 350x100

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Thus it was that great mariners among them would still search the empty seas, hoping to come upon the Isle of Meneltarma, and there to see a vision of things that were. But they found it not… (“The Akallabêth,” The Silmarillion)

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Read more... )
Title: In Vino Veritas
Summary: So, a Gondorian and a Rohir walk into a bar....
Word Count: 927
Characters: Boromir, Theodred, OC Dol Amroth artisan
Timeline: 3010 TA (1410 SR) - set between Concealment and Miquan Melave
Rating: Teen, for drunkenness, (non-sexual) nekkidness, and the slightest smidgen of sexual suggestion
Beta: [livejournal.com profile] just_ann_now
Notes: Written for [livejournal.com profile] agape4gondor. She requested a Boromir/Theodred story, though I think this scene could just as easily be friendship as slash.

"A tattoo?" Faramir asked.

"I know that they practice this art in Gondor," Elfhelm said, as he untied a small bundle and set out the shining needles and tiny pots of pigment. "Did not your own brother sport a large tattoo of a horn on his – uh, backside?"

Faramir smiled wryly. "He had it done after a late-night revel in Dol Amroth, and he rued the deed when he woke on the morrow. Though the mark was in such a place that few would ever see it."

Someone made a strange sound, halfway between a laugh and a cough, and several of the Riders were grinning broadly. No small number of people had gazed upon that famous tattoo during Boromir’s visits to Edoras.


--- from "The Long Race by the ever-creative Branwyn. Some references just beg to be expanded upon - how was I supposed to leave this one alone? (Written with Branwyn's permission.)

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Read more... )
Dwim asked for AU drabbles for her birthday. One AU scenario that I've seen attempted several times is Boromir living past Amon Hen - perhaps by taking the Ring. However, there are two scenarios that I have never seen attempted. And you know me - they just couldn't be left undone.

Be forewarned, these are a bit angsty - but this is Dwim's birthday we're talking about, and she taught me all I know on that topic, so perhaps it's fitting. :-)




Title: The Least of Rings
Rating: General
Word Count: 100
Characters: Boromir, Frodo
Summary: Boromir takes the ring.
Warnings: A.U.

Read more... )








Title: A New Road or a Secret Gate
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 100
Characters: Merry
Summary: Boromir takes the Ring, with unexpected consequences.
Warnings: A.U.; and violence

Read more... )
Title: Leather
Summary: Sometimes, a sensation as simple as touch can have a powerful affect. Four drabbles about Boromir and Theodred.
Notes: Written for the t_w "leather" challenge.
Word Count: 400 + Notes
Timeline: bookverse, pre-WOTR (no specific time)
Warnings: Angst. And m/m erotica, though definitely of the PG variety.
Rating: Teen
Betas: just_ann_now

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Part the First )
Part the Second )
Part the Third )
Part the Fourth )
Notes )
Title: Ten Thousand Yers
Summary: A few days after the Council of Elrond, Boromir stumbles into a room he thought was his own, and meets someone quite unexpected.
Word Count: 2276 + Notes
Rating: General (nothing objectionable)
Timeline: Late Third Age



-------
Read more... )
Notes )
Title: Concealment
Summary: When news reached Rohan of the death of Dol Amroth's ruling prince, Théodred rode for Gondor as quickly as his horse would carry him. Of course he would come; Boromir needed him.
Word Count: 3392 + Notes
Rating: Mature (for m/m erotic content)
Timeline: Mid-Third Age (bookverse)

------
Read more... )
Notes )
Title: Of Moria, Of Khazad-Dum
Summary: In Moria, Boromir begins to see Gimli's quality.
Word Count: 150 + Notes
Rating: General (nothing objectionable)
Timeline: Late Third Age (bookverse)

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Read more... )
Notes )
Title: Call on the Wind
Summary: Éomer hears Boromir's last horn-call.
Word Count: 150
Rating: General (nothing objectionable)
Timeline: Late Third Age (bookverse)

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Read more... )
Title: Bating Boromir
Summary: Some healers in the Houses of Healing are rather over-eager to give an injured Boromir his bath.
Word Count: 100
Rating: General (nothing objectionable)
Timeline: Mid-Third Age (bookverse)

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Read more... )
Notes )
Title: Naked Steel
Summary: A true drabble, in which Boromir reveals rather more of himself
than he intends, and the townspeople enjoy the sight. This is based on AmandaK's Boromir!lives epic "The Long Road Home", specifically chapter sixteen where Boromir is taking a bath when orcs attack.
Word Count: 100
Rating: Teen (for nudity)
Timeline: Late Third Age (AU of bookverse)

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Notes )
Read more... )
Title: Long Road Home
Summary: A tanka, about Boromir's final journey down Anduin.
Word Count: 24
Rating: General (nothing objectionable)
Timeline: Late Third Age, (bookverse)

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Read more... )
Title: Pride and Despair
Summary: Even at the very end, he did not simply submit to Mordor but took the only action he thought he could. Here is a look at Denethor's last moments, as he thinks back on the memories and relationships that have defined him. A rather book-based look at a most enigmatic steward.
Word Count: 5428 + Notes
Rating: Teen (for violence and horrific imagery
Timeline: mid-Third Age and Late Third Age (bookverse)

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Read more... )
Notes )
Title: Inheritances
Summary: Aragorn was serving in Gondor under Denethor's father Ecthelion when Boromir was born. What would the Heir of Isildur have thought of the child who might grow up to become Steward?
Word Count: 1273 + Notes
Rating: General (nothing objectionable
Timeline: Mid-Third Age (bookverse)

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Read more... )
Notes )
Title: Free and Gay
Summary: Some soldiers of Gondor celebrate Yule at Cair Andros.
Word Count: 633
Rating: Teen (themes of m/m sexuality)
Timeline: Mid-Third Age (bookverse)



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Read more... )
Title: A Steward's Dreams
Summary: Faramir and Boromir discuss their hopes for the future.
Word Count: 100
Rating: General
Timeline: Mid-Third Age (bookverse)



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Read more... )
Title: Small Hands
Summary: At the Council of Elrond, Boromir sees Bilbo volunteer to take the Ring to Mordor.
Word Count: 100
Rating: General (adult themes)
Timeline: Late Third Age (bookverse)

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Read more... )

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