Theme: International Fanworks Day
Elements: Lord of the Rings, promt: Boromir
Author's Notes: It occurred to me that my first attempt might not have been sufficiently fannish… (and because lindahoyland wanted a fangirl story.)
Summary: Boromir encounters a fan.
Word Count: 713
At first, Boromir just heard muffled giggling and thought nothing of it. He was on the edge of the market, after all; a cacophony of noise, both of Men and animals rose and fell from every direction. Soon, though, he caught flashes of hair and eyes, sleeves and skirts following him as he moved. They stayed mostly out of sight, but their giggling and giddy conversation remained within hearing.
“Oh! I have seen him from a distance before, but that view does him such a disservice; his shoulders are so much broader up close.”
Boromir nearly rolled his eyes when he heard a starry-eyed sigh precede, “He is such much fairer than I imagined, and those eyes…” Another sigh followed, nearly provoking him to do the same.
“And his hair…such an elegant crown for his noble face. What I wouldn’t give for a chance to run my fingers through those dark locks.”
A smile crept onto Boromir’s features as he imagined granting the girl her wish, but he quickly dismissed the thought. Who knew where that sort of thing might lead, and he wasn’t looking for a wife – or a clingly woman intent on convincing him otherwise.
“I wish we could see him fight…” followed by another sigh.
A giggle, and then, “I don’t know… The rippling of his muscles beneath that fine shirt might just stop my heart.”
More giggling, and Boromir abruptly reached his limit. He was just about to turn and chase the daft girls away, when one gasped suddenly, and then they both fell silent. One heartbeat, then two, passed, before a timid hand tugged upon his sleeve.
“Your pardon, my lord Boromir,” came a shy, hesitant voice.
“Yes,” Boromir acknowledged, irritably, as he turned to greet the blushing face of the young woman who belonged to the voice. In her eyes shown such deep admiration that he felt for a moment ashamed that he had considered chasing her and her companion away. Softening his tone, he asked, “How may I be of service to you?”
“Ummm,” she stammered, nervously shuffling her feet. The action made him impatient, but he hoped it didn’t show on his expression; the girl was anxious enough already. “You dropped these, sir.”
He dropped his gaze to a shaky hand which now held out to him his gloves. They were so worn they were hardly worth retrieving; in fact, he’d come to the market to purchase another pair. He could see, though, that to this starry-eyed girl, they were worth double their weight in gold.
“Keep them,” he offered, “as a reward for your honesty.”
The child blanched and stammered, “Nay, my lord, I could not possibly. You need them! My honesty is little compared to all you do…” Tears welled in her eyes, and she began to shake. “Your strength… You courage… Where would be without it? You are our safety!” she insisted. “How could I go on having deprived you of something you need so dearly on cold nights or whilst fighting Gondor’s many foes?”
Somewhat unnerved by the vehemence of the girl’s reaction, Boromir took hold of her hand, guiding her to a nearby bench and gently pressing her to sit. Then he knelt before her and assured, “Peace, child. They are old and of no use to me any longer. You would deprive me of nothing.”
Sniffing softly, the girl gazed up hopefully, “Truly?”
“Truly,” he insisted, before rising and stepping a full arm’s length away, in hopes of allaying any romantic rumors that the embrace might spawn.
“Thank you, my lord,” responded the girl, clutching the gloves to her breast as though they were the most precious of gifts. “I shall cherish them always,” she added, somewhat giddily.
Her expression was so starry-eyed that Boromir nearly regretted his deed, but then he looked deeper and saw something more. Her eyes veritable shown with pride (of him), and faith (in him), and trust.
She deserves the gift, and more even, he considered. She deserves to have me be the man she sees when she looks at me, and I shall! Gondor shall never want for a hero whilst I live!
And with a slight bow, he turned and continued on his way, determined never to forget the people he served.