Drouble
Title: Haven
Fandom: LOTR
Pairing: Boromir/Théodred
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Tolkien = genius. Simbelmynë = not so much.
Summary: Rain interrupts an afternoon ride. 200 words, X-posted.
Haven
The afternoon was waning when the wind changed, carrying with it the scent of rain. The horses lifted their heads, nostrils flaring, and stretched out glossy necks when their riders turned towards home. Yet home was leagues away; the two riders were adrift in a vast sea of golden grass.
They rode on with grey clouds massing behind them, casting the verdant hills into shadow. Boromir watched the lowering vault until the storm had swallowed the sun and the first drops began to silver the long grass. Beside him Théodred tilted his head to catch the rain, laughing, and Boromir found the light he missed in eyes as blue as the summer sky.
They rode on through the rain as the distant hills blurred and vanished into mist. Around them the golden plains faded to grey, blending into the weeping sky. But Boromir followed the beacon of Théodred’s bright hair and did not miss the sunshine.
Twilight was near when they found the shelter they sought. They sat close together, listening to the rain, and watched the darkness slowly suffuse the storm-drenched fields. The evening grew chill, but in the circle of Théodred’s arms Boromir never missed the day’s warmth.
Fandom: LOTR
Pairing: Boromir/Théodred
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Tolkien = genius. Simbelmynë = not so much.
Summary: Rain interrupts an afternoon ride. 200 words, X-posted.
Haven
The afternoon was waning when the wind changed, carrying with it the scent of rain. The horses lifted their heads, nostrils flaring, and stretched out glossy necks when their riders turned towards home. Yet home was leagues away; the two riders were adrift in a vast sea of golden grass.
They rode on with grey clouds massing behind them, casting the verdant hills into shadow. Boromir watched the lowering vault until the storm had swallowed the sun and the first drops began to silver the long grass. Beside him Théodred tilted his head to catch the rain, laughing, and Boromir found the light he missed in eyes as blue as the summer sky.
They rode on through the rain as the distant hills blurred and vanished into mist. Around them the golden plains faded to grey, blending into the weeping sky. But Boromir followed the beacon of Théodred’s bright hair and did not miss the sunshine.
Twilight was near when they found the shelter they sought. They sat close together, listening to the rain, and watched the darkness slowly suffuse the storm-drenched fields. The evening grew chill, but in the circle of Théodred’s arms Boromir never missed the day’s warmth.