Boromir Week Day 6 - Change of Fate
It’s late. I know it’s late. I also know it’s not day 5. That one gave me trouble and it’s bad so I’m rewriting it. This one on the other hand…here you go.
@boromir-week
They had not planned to run into Hobbits that day.
They especially had not planned to run into those Hobbits today.
Marhildr had picked up some work at the Prancing Pony so she and Boromir could gather some funds to move onto the North Downs. What should have taken a week took a little longer because Boromir had gotten ill and needed tending. It was alright, she had said, and she meant it, but he was not overly fond of the delay. When Boromir was well enough to leave his bed, he came down and helped Barliman Butterbur by chopping some wood behind the inn for dinner that night.
It was during this seemingly innocuous task that he heard the familiar voice of one Peregrin Took. His whole body went rigid, mind racing a mile a minute as he tried to make sense of it. Was he imagining things? Could he have been? He looked around the side of the inn and there he was! With Merry and Sam and Frodo as well.
Frodo.
Frodo.
He took a deep breath and tried his best to calm his racing heart. He squeezed his eyes shut and stumbled to sit on a nearby bench, knocking his knees against it before collapsing in front of it with a sigh.
Frodo.
The Ringbearer. The one he had betrayed who saved them all. So much had gone wrong. So much had to be accounted for and before he could even comprehend a reckoning, he felt a gentle hand on top of his head.
“Boromir…”
A gentle voice whispered, a rubbing her thumb over the crown of his head.
“The hobbits…”
He whispered, voice breaking.
“I know…I saw, my love. They saw me too, so they know I’m here…but they don’t have to know about you if you don’t want them to. You can go upstairs and sleep and they’ll be none the wiser if that’s what you’d prefer.”
He shook his head.
“I…I never thought I’d have the chance to apologize…to look at them and tell them how sorry I am that I…”
It never was any easier to watch the man she loved break down like this, but Marhildr knew, perhaps better than anyone he had ever known, that sometimes he needed these moments in order to heal.
“Shh…it’s ok…Pippin asked if I knew anything about where you were…what do you want me to say?”
She asks quietly and he ponders it for a moment. He remains seated though his posture straightens as he takes a breath.
“Tell him I’m here. I…don’t think I can handle inside yet, but if they’re willing…”
She nods.
“Ok…I’ll go get him for you.”
He stays seated where he is, head leaning back against the seat of the bench. One minute passes, then another, then another. His heart is beating so loudly in his ears that he doesn’t even notice as not one but 4 sets of Hobbit feet come running towards him, each one scrambling to grab a piece of him. Of the 4, one launches himself against Boromir’s chest, lithe arms wrapping around it in a way Boromir never imagined they would. His eyes opened as his arms came up and he could have wept when he saw who it was.
His name left Boromir’s mouth in an almost reverent whisper.
“Frodo…”
He feels Frodo nod against his shoulder, his smaller form shaking under his hands. Boromir gently pulls the little one closer to his chest, resting a hand on his back and the other on the back of his head.
“Boromir…I…I’m so sorry! I…”
The man hushes the Hobbit, leaning back to look into his eyes.
“If anyone should be sorry, Frodo, it’s me…I almost killed you…the Fellowship broke because of me…”
The Hobbit shakes his head.
“No, Boromir…you tried to take the ring…but I did…I let it win…it’s only because of Sam’s courage that the ring was destroyed. I thought…I didn’t know, Boromir…I didn’t know how strong the pull of it could be until it was nearly too late…”
The little Hobbit looks up into Boromir’s eyes, registering the shock there.
“And I didn’t know…I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again…I didn’t know if I’d ever have the chance to tell you I understand…that I felt it and lost too, with so much at stake, right at the end…”
Boromir takes a deep shuddering breath, a deep sorrow settling in his chest. His eyes lifted and he saw the same sorrow written across the other Hobbits faces. He held an arm out and wrapped it around the others, letting all the worry and fear from the past months bleed out of him. He felt Frodo’s hands tugging on his tunic, felt the tears being soaked up into the fabric on his shoulder. He felt when Merry wrapped his arms around his shoulders, when Pippin rested his head on top of his. He watched over Frodo’s shoulder as Sam studied him, an expressionless look on his face for the longest moment before he hesitantly moves forward and takes one of Boromir’s hands in his own. He doesn’t realize until it’s too late, however, that he is crying, his body heaving with sobs as he releases a sadness so deeply rooted in him he believed it was permanent.
“Thank you…”
He says, over and over and over again. Eventually, the man and hobbits separate from each other, Merry and Pippin staying within arms reach of him while Sam and Frodo move to give him a little space.
Boromir couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It didn’t feel real. They were here. His hobbits were here! He wipes his face on his sleeve, the violent sobs having left his face and eyes red. He chuckles despite himself as sweet, sweet Sam hands him a handkerchief.
“We’re glad you’re alright, Mr. Boromir. Miss. Marhildr told us you were alive when we were still in Gondor, but she wasn’t sure what you got up to.”
He nods, wiping his face off with the kerchief.
“Aragorn and Legolas put me in one of the boats and sent me down the river. I was found by Marhildr’s family at the edge of the Vale of Anduin. Marhildr herself returned a little while later and took care of me before she went south to meet some Rangers of the Dunedain in Dunland. I wasn’t truly well for several months…I needed help sitting up, I couldn’t lift my arms very high…they helped me greatly in so many ways.”
He swallows, tilting his head back against the bench to stem this new flow of tears.
“It was a long recovery process…I had to relearn how to walk, how to use a sword, which is very hard to do when you’re among people who only use axes…but there was an undercurrent of fear there too…none of us knew if Marhildr was ok until she and Grimbeorn got back from Aragorn’s wedding.”
He doesn’t notice as Pippin sits down next to him and takes the other of his hands into his lap.
“I didn’t even know how much I missed her until she was back. When she invited me to come north with her, I didn’t have it in me to say no…I didn’t realize until we were at Amon Sul that it was because I love her…”
Frodo looks up from his place against Boromir’s chest, a small smile on his tear streaked face.
“I’m glad you had her…when I heard you were alive, it…it made me happy. Being here with you…I don’t feel so alone anymore.”
The words, spoken from the heart and oh so vulnerably, broke Boromir in a way he had not anticipated. The dam of regret that had built itself up around his heart broke and all he could do was hold Frodo close as they both cried against each other.
The other Hobbits retreated back into the Pony to give the two of them some privacy. As the sun went down, Boromir and Frodo talked to each other in hushed tones. About all kinds of things. They knew no one came back here unless they had to. They had all the time they needed.
Eventually, Boromir feels Frodo relax into sleep against his chest. The sun is down, the air is chilled, and the man chuckles as he takes the hobbit in his arms and rises to his feet. Marhildr is there to meet him at the door, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek and then the top of Frodo’s head as he carries him up the stairs. Sam stands right outside their room, holding the door open for the man to step through. As easy as breathing, Boromir laid Frodo down on the soft bed, similar to the one he himself felt so uncomfortable in these days. Once that is done, and Frodo is tucked securely under a warm blanket, he steps back, eyes moving rapidly between the two hobbits in the room as if he was searching for something to say. Marhildr stepped beside him and wrapped her arms around his. He rested his cheek on top of her head, not really caring much that Samwise was watching. Eventually, Marhildr whispered in his ear, so softly even he would not have been able to hear had he not been so focused on her presence in his space.
“Our room is right across the hall. Merry and Pippin are just to the left of us. They’ve all insisted we must break fast together tomorrow.”
She looks up at him, smiling softly.
“You need to rest, Boromir…”
He nods, looking down at her with a smile. He steps towards the door, vaguely hearing Marhildr say that they could come get them if they needed anything before the morning. He feels himself being led away as a sort of exhaustion rolls over him that makes even the few steps they need to take to get to their room feel like miles.
Despite the heaviness in his body, his spirit hadn’t felt this light in a long time. He hears the door click open and lets himself be led to the warm bed he shared with Marhildr. He let her sit him down and remove his tunic before pushing him onto the bed. She had done this dozens of times, with him in far worse condition than this. The part of his brain that was afraid of vulnerability was calmed when she joined him on the bed, nestling herself under one of his arms and resting her head on his chest. He pulled her close, kissing the top of her head before letting his exhausted body take its much needed rest.
