November is a nice month for birthdays!
For once in my life this is early, hurrah!
Title: Five Things That Never Happened to Boromir and Théodred (But Bloody Well Should Have)
Characters/Pairing: Boromir/Théodred
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Tolkien = genius. Simbelmynë = not so much.
Summary: Five double-drabbles. Does what it says on the tin. AU, obviously.
AN: For just_ann_now and edoraslass, my muses, my kindred spirits, and the loveliest friends I’ve never met. *g* Happy birthdays, ladies!
Five Things That Never Happened to Boromir and Théodred (But Bloody Well Should Have)
I. The Gift
Minas Tirith, 2996 of the Third Age
In the year of Boromir’s eighteenth birthday it seemed as if all of Gondor celebrated his coming of age. Gifts arrived in Minas Tirith from as far away as Anfalas, most with no purpose other than to flatter the Steward’s heir.
On the eve of the feast in Boromir’s honor a delegation from Rohan rode into the City to offer him his choice of stallion from six of the finest horses ever seen in Gondor. Each was unique-deep bay, black as a raven’s wing, fiery chestnut, dappled grey, roan, and snowy white-but all were sleek and swift with long, shining manes and flowing tails.
Yet what pleased Boromir most was the tall, golden-haired young man who led the Rohirrim, riding an impressive grey charger. The two men clasped arms in greeting, blue eyes meeting grey, and each felt a shock like the ring of steel blades.
The Riders remained in Minas Tirith for a week; on their last night Boromir received in secret one final, unexpected gift, and the only one he truly desired. Thus when Théodred son of Théoden departed for Rohan the following morning he left behind the handsome chestnut stallion and memories infinitely more precious.
II. The Exchange
Helm’s Deep, July 3018
Though the journey he faced was perilous, Boromir was grateful for one consolation: the road to fabled Imladris passed near Helm’s Deep. He reached the fortress at sundown, and to his relief and joy discovered that duty had not called the Second Marshal elsewhere. Théodred was delighted to welcome him, yet dismayed when he learned of his quest. But he said nothing to dissuade Boromir; instead they shared news, a meal, and, later, Théodred’s bed.
Before dawn they rose to dress by torchlight, and only then did Théodred speak of the long road ahead.
‘I wish I could go with you.’
‘I would welcome your company,’ said Boromir with regret. ‘But-’
‘I am needed here,’ Théodred sighed. ‘Yet I may send this in my stead.’ He settled his own leather cuirass over Boromir’s shoulders. ‘May it guard you as I cannot.’
Boromir smiled. ‘So it shall. And for my part I may leave this.’ He took his silver collar, set with a white stone, and placed it at Théodred’s throat where lips and beard had marked the night before. ‘May it remain where I cannot.’
Théodred smiled also, and drew him close, and their final valediction needed no words.
III. The Collar
First Battle of the Fords of Isen, 25 February 3019
The battle was lost. Weary and wounded, Théodred rallied his men for a final stand, determined that their deaths should cost the enemy dearly. He knew not how many orc-men he had slain when he was beset by two at once. A great axe gleamed suddenly in the torchlight as it arced toward his throat, and Théodred fell.
But the King’s son was not alone. Grimbold still stood to defend his fallen lord, and then unlooked-for the companies of Elfhelm reached the Fords to scatter the axe-men. A horn sounded in the darkness, and Saruman’s remaining forces vanished into the night.
Then Grimbold and Elfhelm knelt to mourn their lord, and to their astonishment found that he lived. His several wounds were grave but none were fatal, not even the blow that had felled him. The orc-man’s axe had slashed through the prince’s leather armor yet gone no further, halted by a band of silver set with a white stone. The silver was dented, and indeed dark bruises already bloomed beneath it.
His commanders stared in wonder as Théodred raised trembling fingers to the secret that had saved his life, and for the first time that day began to smile.
IV. The Cuirass
Amon Hen, 26 February 3019
Aragorn found Boromir leaning against a great tree, pierced by many black-feathered arrows. Slain Orcs lay all around him, but both his sword and his horn were broken. Swiftly Aragorn knelt by his side, and Boromir spoke hoarsely.
‘I tried to take the Ring from Frodo,’ he said. ‘I am sorry.’ He drew a shuddering breath and pointed into the trees. ‘The Orcs have taken Merry and Pippin. I think they are not dead.’
‘Be still,’ Aragorn soothed, healing hands reaching to ease his fallen friend.
‘Leave it!’ gasped Boromir. ‘Where is Frodo?’
‘I do not know,’ said Aragorn wearily.
‘Forgive me,’ Boromir whispered. ‘I did not see. I have failed. All will come to darkness, and my City to ruin!’
‘No!’ said Aragorn fiercely. ‘You have conquered. Minas Tirith shall not fall!’ And he bent again to tend Boromir’s wounds.
Thus Legolas and Gimli found them, and learned with joy that Boromir would live. He was weak, having lost much blood from the arrows that had pierced his sword-arm and thigh, but, Aragorn told him gladly, he would fight again one day. For beneath his ruined tunic was a leather cuirass, cunningly tooled after the fashion of the Rohirrim.
V. The Reunion
Edoras, August 3019
By the time the funeral wain of Théoden was ready to depart Boromir had healed from his long slow return alone to the White City, and recovered much of his old strength. Though he walked with a limp, and would to the end of his days, he was hale enough to take his place in the riding between the other Companions and Prince Faramir.
When the company reached Edoras and climbed the winding path up the hill they found Théodred waiting before the Hall. Boromir studied him as they approached, his blood ringing in his ears, and felt Théodred’s searching gaze upon him as well.
And each saw the same in the other: burdens of sorrow and marks of suffering they must bear for the rest of their years. But there would be years, and each knew he would gladly pay the same terrible cost again.
Then Théodred welcomed the company, and clasped arms with each Companion, and when he reached Boromir both were trembling. And that night as the people feasted Théodred-King and the Captain-General of Gondor retired together to a familiar chamber. There they retraced old scars, discovered new ones, and began to heal those that were unseen.
(Not) The End
Author’s Note: The account of the battle in Part III is based on details given in ‘The Battles of the Fords of Isen’ in Tolkien’s Unfinished Tales of Númenor and Middle-Earth, required reading for any self-respecting Théodred enthusiast. The dialogue in Part IV is a combination of Tolkien’s words and the film script, rearranged for my own nefarious purposes.
P.S. If anyone out there feels inspired to develop this idea into a full-on, more explicit detailed AU, please be my guest. I’ve not the time to do it justice myself, but I would be first in line to read another’s interpretation of the story. And I’m sure the birthday girls would have no objections to any further Boromir/Théodred goodness!
Title: Five Things That Never Happened to Boromir and Théodred (But Bloody Well Should Have)
Characters/Pairing: Boromir/Théodred
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Tolkien = genius. Simbelmynë = not so much.
Summary: Five double-drabbles. Does what it says on the tin. AU, obviously.
AN: For just_ann_now and edoraslass, my muses, my kindred spirits, and the loveliest friends I’ve never met. *g* Happy birthdays, ladies!
Five Things That Never Happened to Boromir and Théodred (But Bloody Well Should Have)
I. The Gift
Minas Tirith, 2996 of the Third Age
In the year of Boromir’s eighteenth birthday it seemed as if all of Gondor celebrated his coming of age. Gifts arrived in Minas Tirith from as far away as Anfalas, most with no purpose other than to flatter the Steward’s heir.
On the eve of the feast in Boromir’s honor a delegation from Rohan rode into the City to offer him his choice of stallion from six of the finest horses ever seen in Gondor. Each was unique-deep bay, black as a raven’s wing, fiery chestnut, dappled grey, roan, and snowy white-but all were sleek and swift with long, shining manes and flowing tails.
Yet what pleased Boromir most was the tall, golden-haired young man who led the Rohirrim, riding an impressive grey charger. The two men clasped arms in greeting, blue eyes meeting grey, and each felt a shock like the ring of steel blades.
The Riders remained in Minas Tirith for a week; on their last night Boromir received in secret one final, unexpected gift, and the only one he truly desired. Thus when Théodred son of Théoden departed for Rohan the following morning he left behind the handsome chestnut stallion and memories infinitely more precious.
II. The Exchange
Helm’s Deep, July 3018
Though the journey he faced was perilous, Boromir was grateful for one consolation: the road to fabled Imladris passed near Helm’s Deep. He reached the fortress at sundown, and to his relief and joy discovered that duty had not called the Second Marshal elsewhere. Théodred was delighted to welcome him, yet dismayed when he learned of his quest. But he said nothing to dissuade Boromir; instead they shared news, a meal, and, later, Théodred’s bed.
Before dawn they rose to dress by torchlight, and only then did Théodred speak of the long road ahead.
‘I wish I could go with you.’
‘I would welcome your company,’ said Boromir with regret. ‘But-’
‘I am needed here,’ Théodred sighed. ‘Yet I may send this in my stead.’ He settled his own leather cuirass over Boromir’s shoulders. ‘May it guard you as I cannot.’
Boromir smiled. ‘So it shall. And for my part I may leave this.’ He took his silver collar, set with a white stone, and placed it at Théodred’s throat where lips and beard had marked the night before. ‘May it remain where I cannot.’
Théodred smiled also, and drew him close, and their final valediction needed no words.
III. The Collar
First Battle of the Fords of Isen, 25 February 3019
The battle was lost. Weary and wounded, Théodred rallied his men for a final stand, determined that their deaths should cost the enemy dearly. He knew not how many orc-men he had slain when he was beset by two at once. A great axe gleamed suddenly in the torchlight as it arced toward his throat, and Théodred fell.
But the King’s son was not alone. Grimbold still stood to defend his fallen lord, and then unlooked-for the companies of Elfhelm reached the Fords to scatter the axe-men. A horn sounded in the darkness, and Saruman’s remaining forces vanished into the night.
Then Grimbold and Elfhelm knelt to mourn their lord, and to their astonishment found that he lived. His several wounds were grave but none were fatal, not even the blow that had felled him. The orc-man’s axe had slashed through the prince’s leather armor yet gone no further, halted by a band of silver set with a white stone. The silver was dented, and indeed dark bruises already bloomed beneath it.
His commanders stared in wonder as Théodred raised trembling fingers to the secret that had saved his life, and for the first time that day began to smile.
IV. The Cuirass
Amon Hen, 26 February 3019
Aragorn found Boromir leaning against a great tree, pierced by many black-feathered arrows. Slain Orcs lay all around him, but both his sword and his horn were broken. Swiftly Aragorn knelt by his side, and Boromir spoke hoarsely.
‘I tried to take the Ring from Frodo,’ he said. ‘I am sorry.’ He drew a shuddering breath and pointed into the trees. ‘The Orcs have taken Merry and Pippin. I think they are not dead.’
‘Be still,’ Aragorn soothed, healing hands reaching to ease his fallen friend.
‘Leave it!’ gasped Boromir. ‘Where is Frodo?’
‘I do not know,’ said Aragorn wearily.
‘Forgive me,’ Boromir whispered. ‘I did not see. I have failed. All will come to darkness, and my City to ruin!’
‘No!’ said Aragorn fiercely. ‘You have conquered. Minas Tirith shall not fall!’ And he bent again to tend Boromir’s wounds.
Thus Legolas and Gimli found them, and learned with joy that Boromir would live. He was weak, having lost much blood from the arrows that had pierced his sword-arm and thigh, but, Aragorn told him gladly, he would fight again one day. For beneath his ruined tunic was a leather cuirass, cunningly tooled after the fashion of the Rohirrim.
V. The Reunion
Edoras, August 3019
By the time the funeral wain of Théoden was ready to depart Boromir had healed from his long slow return alone to the White City, and recovered much of his old strength. Though he walked with a limp, and would to the end of his days, he was hale enough to take his place in the riding between the other Companions and Prince Faramir.
When the company reached Edoras and climbed the winding path up the hill they found Théodred waiting before the Hall. Boromir studied him as they approached, his blood ringing in his ears, and felt Théodred’s searching gaze upon him as well.
And each saw the same in the other: burdens of sorrow and marks of suffering they must bear for the rest of their years. But there would be years, and each knew he would gladly pay the same terrible cost again.
Then Théodred welcomed the company, and clasped arms with each Companion, and when he reached Boromir both were trembling. And that night as the people feasted Théodred-King and the Captain-General of Gondor retired together to a familiar chamber. There they retraced old scars, discovered new ones, and began to heal those that were unseen.
(Not) The End
Author’s Note: The account of the battle in Part III is based on details given in ‘The Battles of the Fords of Isen’ in Tolkien’s Unfinished Tales of Númenor and Middle-Earth, required reading for any self-respecting Théodred enthusiast. The dialogue in Part IV is a combination of Tolkien’s words and the film script, rearranged for my own nefarious purposes.
P.S. If anyone out there feels inspired to develop this idea into a full-on, more explicit detailed AU, please be my guest. I’ve not the time to do it justice myself, but I would be first in line to read another’s interpretation of the story. And I’m sure the birthday girls would have no objections to any further Boromir/Théodred goodness!