The night is quiet in the heart of the White City. Usually this quiet would be a comfort, but on a night like tonight you wish for a little more sound. You look around, staring into the mouth of the dark hall. Though the guards didn’t give you any trouble, you are well aware what would happen should the Steward himself discover you on your mission.
The halls of the ruling house are vast. You have memorized the steps you need to take, where to avoid the loose stones and keep your footfalls silent. You clutch the books to your chest, tight enough that the pages don’t rustle. Not a sound escapes into the silence.
Faramir’s door is on the right, a smooth journey save the torchlight coming from further down the hall. It’s something you overlooked in your quick preparations. You hope the elder son of Denethor merely forgot to put it out before he went to bed.
Your hope is dashed when Boromir’s door opens and the Captain of Gondor himself slides into the hallway. He takes great care to close the door behind him as quietly as possible, and you wonder if the Steward is a light sleeper. Clearly he does not want to be seen either.
Though you know it’s useless you press yourself into the wall to try and avoid being spotted. You’re still a good ten paces to Faramir’s doorstep. You feel ridiculous holding your breath and trying to disappear into the shadows, but it’s the only thing you can do.
Boromir spots you almost immediately. He whispers your name, a stern sound you’ve grown used to hearing.
“What do you think you’re doing here?” He asks in the same voice he uses to command his troops.
“None of your concern,” you reply, hearing him give an empty laugh.
“Here you are, sneaking around the house of the Steward at night, and you say your business is none of my concern! I am a Captain of Gondor, though I know you don’t need the reminder.”
You hate the way he speaks to you. It’s entirely infuriating.
“If you must know, Captain, Faramir missed his lesson with Mithrandir today. I’m just bringing by some books I thought would interest him,” you explain.
“Maybe you have not heard that my father forbade him to study further, not while war is upon us. His time should be spent preparing to depart to Osgilaith. Or maybe you have heard, and are here to commit treason,” he wonders, circling you slowly, his footfalls making tiny thunks on the stone.
“It’s hardly treason to bring a friend a book,” you argue, rolling your eyes.
“Oh yes, that’s why you’ve come in the middle of the night, when you thought we’d all be sleeping. A very noble thing you’re doing, really I’m quite convinced.” he throws back, stopping directly in front of you.
It’s always been like this between you two. Boromir, Captain of Gondor, beloved son of the White City and you, a scholar, distasteful of violence and the men who relish it.
You are brought together only by your love of Faramir. His brother and best friend who can’t ever seem to get along. Your personalities are completely opposite, not to mention you disagree entirely on what the future should hold for Faramir.
Boromir would see him a hero, fighting at his side against every evil that assails the country. He would have him listen to the orders of Denethor, giving up pieces of himself to earn their father’s approval.
You would have him in the library, pouring over books and maps, learning from anyone who visits the land. That includes Gandalf, though it would be going against the express wishes of the Steward.
It’s an argument you’ve had many times before, neither one of you able to let it go or convince the other to join your side. Instead you are locked in a perpetual stalemate.
“What is it that you are doing out of your chambers at this time of night, my Captain? Off to see one of your admirers for a nightcap perhaps?” You tease him openly, one of the only people in the entire city who would do so.
He doesn’t respond, and you tease him some more, saying anything you can think to get him to continue your banter. When he does he takes a softer tone, one you are not accustomed to hearing from him.
“If you must know, my lady, my father was rather harsh on Faramir earlier. I was going to check on him...”
Suddenly the two of you are standing nose to nose and any quip you thought of in response died on your lips. There was no sound in the halls but that of your breathing, Boromir inhaling while you exhaled. His hands drift to the books you still clutch against your chest. His fingers run across them slowly, occasionally brushing against the backs of your hands. You feel warm, despite the cool stone pressing into your back.
“The reason you can read these books, my lady, is because the city is so well defended. Men like Faramir give you that privilege,” he says, holding your gaze like he needs you to understand something he isn’t saying.
“Men like Faramir?” You ask, bringing your hand up to brush some of his hair from his face, “Or men like you?”
He doesn’t answer your question, just keeps staring at you, hoping you will be the one to break first. You are hoping for the same thing, yet can’t bring yourself to move even an inch from where you are pinned by his gaze.
The air feels thick in the hallway, as if it was being sucked away, leaving you and Boromir in a vacuum. The inches between you are disappearing quickly.
Suddenly you hear a door open, the one on your right. Boromir makes no move at the sound, standing still until you place your hand on his chest and gently push him away. Not a second too soon, because the next moment Faramir himself appears in the hall.
He utters his surprise and you walk towards him, arms outstretched and presenting the books as the mighty gift they were. He takes them gratefully, pulling you into his chambers to escape the danger of the hallway.
You don’t notice Boromir disappear from your side, but you swear you felt a chill in the hall when he put out his torch and slipped back into his own chambers. You smile to yourself, knowing he has allowed your little treason to continue as Faramir asks you all sorts of questions on what he had missed.
***I know I don't usually write for lotr but I've been having big feelings about Boromir lately. Hope you guys enjoy!***
Hello, thank you for doing the matchup practice! I hope you start to enjoy writing and get more comfortable with it :) I would please like to request a matchup for a male character from the Lord of the Rings! (I am a woman, and also over age 18!)
I’m currently in graduate school and spend a lot of my time studying, playing the piano, baking, or knitting! I am pretty social and have no issues striking up conversations with strangers. I tend to be really fast on my feet in terms of coming up with comebacks/witty things to say, and I tend to tease my loved ones. I’ve been told that I’m funny and a good listener, though I can also be pretty gullible/naive.
In terms of appearances, I’m pretty short and have lighter features (blonde, blue eyes, etc). I have long hair and am also really curvy, especially in the bust area.
If you feel comfortable/would like to test out writing something nsfw please feel free, but there is zero pressure! Thank you so much💕
Thank you so much for sending this in! I will try my best!!
So... I would match you with...
BOROMIR!!!!!
I just have some basic headcannons for you, I'll start with the SFW ones
You met because Boromir once heard you play piano from an open window, he had never thought very highly of music or arts before, but he was transfixed, and you only noticed when you looked out after you had finished to find him standing there and grinning like an idiot
It eventually turned into a Romeo and Juliet moment, because when you play again a couple of days later, there he is again, and it becomes a running joke when you start to ask him if he wants to request anything (not that Boromir knew the names of any music to request)
He did eventually try to request a piece he knew, but he only knew the rhythm, so he tried (badly) singing it to you, causing you to giggle, and hearing your laugh and seeing your smile for the first time was the time that he swore that he would be yours and you would be his, so he asked you to accompany him on a walk around the city, and the rest is history!
Music does continue to be a big part of your relationship, though and he loves to hear you play at all times, there was a time that he would try himself, but he always shyed away from it because of how obvious he thought it was when he got it wrong, but you are working on him, though
Your sharp wit was something that surprised him originally, as he had not been raised with the idea that women could act this way (blame Denethor), but he quickly overcame it and loves this aspect of you now, and will always respond with a witty remark of his own, a heartfelt chuckle and maybe even a playful nudge
He did worry that your teasing would lead to you not getting along well with Faramir, once the relationship was more established, but he was soon proven wrong as you got on well, being quite similar people overall, and soon developed a steadfast friendship that even expanded Faramir's capacity for teasing
Denethor, however does not like it at all, and thinks that it is insulting that a woman could make jokes about Boromir, but as you get more secure in your relationship and the responsibility for Gondor it gives you, you decide to pay his opinions ever less heed, especially given the fact that everyone else in Minas Tirith likes you, and as your dislike for Denethor and friendship with Faramir grows, you become a solid member of the #FaramirAppreciation group
Like with music, Boromir was never interested in baking before you, but you do bring out more appreciation and interest for it in him, he loves to keep up to date with what you are making (and trying it obviously) and will always be up for searching for new ingredients or recipes for you
As time goes on, he does start to pronounce himself a bit of a baking expert, despite never having actually baked himself before, and often makes remarks during feasts (to no one in particular) like - "these are Gondor's traditional honey cakes you know, the kitchens here make them well, but my wife puts honey on the top, which keeps them more moist. You should definitely try the ones she makes sometime, because I do think they are much better"
Knitting is definitely where he draws the line, although he is still proud and supportive of you doing it, he makes it clear that it will not be something he will try, and he always makes a joke of calling it twiddling, light-heartedly obviously
Overall, Boromir finds you to be the person he can be most open and vulnerable with, and he loves to have deep talks, or just normal talks about emotions and pressures on you both, and this more accepting attitude around his emotions has been so helpful for him, but it definitely started with you breaching the subject first, originally in an unstoppable force meets immovable object style
One of his favourite things about you is your outgoing and friendly nature, as it makes any duty that involves meeting civilians much less daunting for him if it includes you
He takes a lot of pride in having you by his side, and always comments to the hobbits and to his soldiers about how brilliant you are, causing them to wait for the time they meet someone that makes them feel as happy as you do him
Sorry, got a bit carried away there, but here are the (much shorter) NSFW ones
Boromir hadn't intimately been with anyone before you, as he had never really wanted to have time for women, not for lack of them wanting to be with him, but he was far from innocent to this aspect of relationships having grown up with soldiers, so he knew what to do
As a partner, he is very much in touch with how you respond to what he does, and he always keeps a note in his head of what you like
He is big into steamy make-out sessions where his hands can run all over you, sometimes in a passionate rushed way, and others like he has all the tine in the world to appreciate you this way
Doesn't take much to get him going, only a look from you, or you in a particularly flattering dress, but the best is when he comes home from a long campaign and hasn't seen you for a while because after making sure you are ok, he is always wanting to show how much he missed you
Balancing sex life with his official commitments is a big thing for him, and he will always show a lot of restraint here, for example if he wants nothing more than to take the dress you are wearing to a dinner off, he will wait until after the dinner is done, not because it is not at the forefront of his mind, but because his duties are so important to him and he doesn't want to disrespect anyone by not being there or being late, but he definitely makes it up to you by keeping his eyes and hands always on you throughout the event and how well he treats you after it
On the lines of his official image, while he is a big fan of casual PDA, anything more is strictly kept in the bedroom, otherwise he gets uncomfortable
Sorry, the NSFW ones were pretty bad, but I'm just trying to trust the process that I will get better eventually, and if I improve, then feel free to send another request in to see if I can do it better. Also sorry for the long wait, life has been pretty crazy lately with me going on holiday and also just trying to catch up with the tonnes of sport that is all happening at the moment 😂. Anyway, I hope grad school continues to treat you well and that you have a lovely day!
Since we know that Boromir is a certified hobbit dad™ during the journey to Mordor, I think we should consider the idea of him dating someone who is quite hobbit-like. Someone who embodies the gentlest aspects of hobbits that he admires so much. Someone who's scholarly and hospitable and can teach him to value the small things in life. Someone who can get him to slow down and appreciate things, who is endlessly curious and loves teaching, and can take his mind off of his burdens with a single smile. Someone who is unusually short and that he can hold in his arms with ease, even. Boromir needs a partner who can balance him out and make him happy, and I think that a hobbit or someone with hobbit-like qualities would be a perfect match for him.
Hi! What do you think about promt number 2. Bulling, with Boromir?
Bullying- Boromir x Reader
Summary: Boromir doesn’t care what other people say, he wants to dance with you
Tolkien tag list: @littlemadamred @iwasonlytemporary @sour-strawberry-kisses @skylerepost
Boromir tag list: @saguaroooo @groovy-lady
✨ Want to be tagged in my next Boromir fic? Click here ✨
Exposure to new experiences was something you always avoid at all costs. At celebrations like this evening you often stand off to the corner, happier observing then partaking. You’ve been like this since you were a little girl, too frightened of judgement to truly let your guard down.
This fear didn’t come from no where. Even though you are a daughter of a lord, you still experience your share of bullying and ostracising. At dances, dinners and even simply walking with your father, you always found the other young girls of court pointing and laughing. While it subsided as you got older, even now as a lady, it never truly goes away.
Even now, standing off to the side is a group of women not so subtly flashing their engagement rings and slyly looking at you and whispering. You take this as your cue to leave, your attempts at camouflaging into the wall had obviously failed.
Unfortunately for you, however, before you can flee a strong hand gently grasps your wrist.
Turning with a confused frown, you turn to see Boromir. You and many other women often wonder how he is unmarried. His sparkling eyes and charming smile seem to pin you in place.
“Please forgive me for grabbing you, my lady, it’s only that I did not want you to leave before I had asked you to dance,” his charming smile only grows once the request leaves his mouth.
The butterflies in your stomach feel so powerful that you feel you might vomit them up. Your hands shake and your eyes find the women in the corner, as if to ask your bully’s permission.
“Don’t look to them, look at me,” he gently whispers against your ear.
He’s now standing closer to you, blocking your view of anyone who could make you question your decision.
“I hear what they say of you and other ladies and I don’t care to listen. There are also many who say that despite your refusal to dance at parties, that you are quite skilled. I asked you to dance because I wanted to know for myself if your beauty matches your dancing abilities,” the charm rolls off him and the compliments and reassurance coming from his deep voice sets your skin alight.
You’re nervous, but his kindness and charm seems to throw water on years of tormenting flames.
“I will dance, if you promise to join me for walk afterwards, sir,” you quietly offer.
Your forward response surprises even you, but something about Boromirs very presence seems to fill you with confidence.
“The day I don’t take up such an offer from one so lovely, will be the day I have died,” he jokes as he takes your hand.
In his arms you can hear no bullying, no teasing and all stares go unnoticed. It seems to just be he and you in the whole world.
Heavy Heart | Heavy Helm any!character x fem!reader
Hey there demons, it's me, ya boy.
I uhhhhh don't know what to call this snippet of writing. I guess it applies to any, like, medieval setting/au for pretty much any character, I just tagged who I was thinking of. (If anyone knows what to call this thing pls let me know)
Tags/warnings: waxing poetic, medieval setting/au, fluff, angst, cuddling, knight x princess, tiny bit suggestive at the end, not explicit.
Wordcount: idk but short.
-Do not copy, translate or feed to any generative ai website or program, thank you-
Enjoy~
~
A knight whose helm is scratched, scarred and worn by the long life he has lived, weary and struggling under the weight of both his past and future.
Too heavy tonight, to hold aloft in pride or defiance. Instead, it lays upon your breast that he might hear your heartbeat beneath skin, full of promise, of tenderness. Of care.
And you, higher standing than he, royalty, nobility, you take hold of him, carry the weight of his heavy heart and soul. Whispering gently, your tongue weaves soft songs to him of the same care he hopes to earn or merely look upon from far, far away.
He hears your words, eyes closing in the sweet sorrow of this moment knowing it won't last forever; he hears your voice promising of redemption.
He is not worthy of this, he knows; your attentions, gentle hands, nor flesh that he might touch with hands that have beheld lesser men to their deaths. Yet, this is what you offer to him.
As your words fall into silence, he finds his own. Promising, swearing his fealty to his dying breath. Utmost loyalty and protection is all that he can offer in exchange for your heart, that and a dark, cold heart of his own. Your body shudders in response and without hesitation, you open up for him wholly.
Yes, you offer him all that you can in return for his loyalty, regardless to his lower standing. You offer him yourself and from that fleeting moment on, you are his to protect. His to touch. His To kiss. His to taste.
Request: lately i've been thinking of married!boromir x reader post war of the ring and boromir gets jealous of someone (e.g. reader's fellow countryman or smth like that). i've had a rohirric reader in mind.
A/N: Thank you for your lovely message! Sorry it took so long, things were busier than I thought. It's on the shorter side, hopefully it still reads okay <3
Boromir x Rohirric!Reader
Gender-neutral reader
No content warnings
2.3k words
---
The courtyard was perfumed with the faint scent of herbs and flowers, sweet, fragrant, earthy. The spring air was cool but not icy, and the stone bench beneath you grew warm as you laughed with Fendred. It had been such a long time since you saw him, before the war, before Grima's corruption, before, even, the both of you had reached full adulthood. His letter had been a pleasant surprise. A visit, he said, to Minas Tirith. It was mostly for trade matters, but he had hoped to reconnect with you while he was there.
"Do you remember," he started, eyes glittering with amusement, "when I took you out to that meadow, the one with the hidden pool?"
"How could I forget?" You shook your head and grinned, remembering the fleeting, fumbling romance you had once shared with him as young teenagers. "It had looked so lovely at first but we were nearly eaten alive by the bugs there. And then Eomer would not stop teasing us."
"I was such a little fool." He laughed and ran his hands through his hair. His eyes held a soft, comfortable fondness. Familiar, like the fifteen or so years had never happened. "It has been too good of you to allow me to stay here at the Citadel. This week has been wonderful."
You hummed in agreement. There was something different, special, about meeting someone you had once known in your youth. An honesty, perhaps. There were no airs to put on, no politeness to feign. You cannot hide from someone who had spent years training with you, who had comforted you after a scolding, who had stifled laughs with you while you snuck into the kitchens. It had been refreshing after so many months learning new customs and befriending strangers. Eowyn was around, but she so frequently was occupied with her duties.
"Although," Fendred continued, "Your husband is quite different to how you described him in your letter."
"What do you mean?"
"You said he was warm, charming. Open."
"Has he not been?" You thought back to your interactions with Boromir and Fendred. It was true that Boromir seemed preoccupied, but when you had asked him all he said was that he had Captain matters to deal with. Between your own duties, managing trade and supply logistics, there had been little time for you and Boromir alone.
"Please do not misunderstand. He has been perfectly courteous, simply... I get the impression he does not like me very much. There have been some fleeting looks I have caught from him. Hostile is too strong of a word but... antagonistic perhaps."
You frowned, thinking. Was there any reason for Boromir to act in this way? You had mentioned, in passing, the silly little romance you had shared with Fendred but surely Boromir would not think anything of it. It had been over a decade. "I am unsure what to tell you. I can speak to him if you wish...?"
"It is of no matter," he said with an easy shrug. "Perhaps I am simply seeing things that are not there."
"Speaking of which," you said, a sly smile creeping onto your face, "I thought I detected a bit of fondness in your letter when you spoke of your assistant. Tell me, am I seeing things that are not there or is there something going on?"
Fendred flushed and turned away. "You are... not incorrect."
"Ha!" You chuckled. "Why did you not bring them with you this trip? I would love to have met them."
"They had to remain back in Beaconwatch to mind the office. Perhaps next time, if I am lucky, they will accompany me here as something more than an assistant."
You smiled to yourself, remembering the way your stomach had flipped when Boromir had confessed his affections for you. He had been so formal, careful with his words, wanting so desperately to get it right. But there had been a barely veiled passion burning in his grey eyes. A passion that you had enjoyed during the days of your courtship and the nights of your marriage. You thought of his warm embrace and his bright, open smile, and wished, very suddenly, that you could go see him immediately.
"A smitten lover if I've ever seen one," he teased with a light laugh.
"Ah, I cannot help myself," you said with a resigned shrug. "I adore him."
"I hope I am not keeping you from him." Fendred gave you a rueful smile. "It has just been so wonderful to speak at length with you again."
"No, no. Not at all. Now please, tell me more about this assistant of yours."
He grinned, uncharacteristically bashful, and launched into the tale of how he had met them.
-
Boromir picked at his chicken and glanced at the empty seat across from him. You had said you would be back for dinner but it seemed that whatever you were up to with your... friend had kept you. A strange sort of heat flared in his stomach and the handle of his knife dug into his palms as his fists clenched. With a sigh he relaxed his hands and stood up from the table, pacing the cosy room.
What was the matter with him? It was not like him to be so agitated over a missed dinner. After all, there had been numerous times where your duties or meetings had run over and you had come back late. Or there was even that one time you and Eowyn had gone out for the afternoon to ride and did not return until nightfall because you both had relished the freedom.
Perhaps it was this Fendred fellow.
Was this jealousy? No, no, it could not be. Why should he have any reason to feel such a way? Fendred was a pleasant enough man but he lacked the qualities that Boromir knew you adored. There had been so many times where you tenderly traced his arrow scars, muttering praises of bravery and valour. And he knew you loved it when he made you laugh with his jokes and antics, grinning fondly at his boisterous nature. But perhaps...
Perhaps everything had happened a bit to quickly. From the moment you opened your mouth to, not so gently, correct Faramir about the best trading route into Rohan, he was gone. You had the steel of the Rohirric and a sharp mind to match. There was a vivacity to you, a kind of energy that would catch eyes and turn heads. He rushed to make his intentions clear, and you were happy enough with a short courtship, but maybe you were having second thoughts.
Especially now, in the presence of your own countryman, in the company of a former sweetheart.
He took another furtive glance at the vacant place at the table and grumbled to himself. He would not lose you, could not lose you. Again, that hot, choking feeling in his stomach, in his chest. He shook his head and let out a long breath. He was acting like a fool. Faramir would laugh at him if he saw.
The door opened and you strode in, flushed and smiling. "Boromir," you said, "I'm so sorry I'm late. Fendred and I were sparring."
"Sparring?" His voice came out choked. Sparring had been one of the things you and he did together during your courtship. The difference in sword technique and footwork was a point of interest for you both, and he relished the thought that you trusted him enough to spar with him. And now...
"Yes," you replied brightly, slipping into your seat. "It has been so long since I have practiced with someone who was taught the same as I was. Eowyn, you know, had a different teacher."
"I didn't realise you had missed such things." His heart twinged. For so many months he had thought you were happy here in the Citadel, in Minas Tirith. You had made a few comments from time to time but you never appeared overly sad or homesick.
You laughed. "I miss a great many things, Boromir."
He wondered, suddenly, if you would miss him if you ever left. If you would miss the quiet mornings in bed, tangled together, or the little mischiefs the both of you would subject Faramir and Eowyn to. Or perhaps you would be happy to leave, to forget him and this place.
"Boromir?" Your brow was furrowed and your lips down turned. "Are you alright? You seemed different this whole week. I know we both have been busy, and Fendred has been here -"
"I am fine," he said, voice coming out a bit too harsh. He forced a smile and crossed the room to give your hand a little squeeze. "Really, I am fine. You should eat. There are some papers I need to look over, I'll join you in our room later."
"But Boromir -"
"I'll see you, my love." He gave you another weak smile and left the room.
-
You hurried down the corridor towards the sound of raised voices. Why were there other people around? And why did that sound an awful lot like Fendred and Boromir? You shook your head and sighed. You were supposed to meet Boromir here, at one of the courtyards overlooking the lower circles, a special place for the both of you. After missing dinner the other night, you had thought that some time alone with him would be best. But why was Fendred here? Though the courtyard was technically a public part of the Citadel, most of the maids and guards knew that you and Boromir had claimed it as your own and kept people out.
"... I did not realise, my lord, I was simply looking for your partner." Fendred's voice was polite but you detected a faint note of anxiety.
"And why were you looking for them? Have you not already monopolised their time enough?"
Poor Fendred, at the receiving end of Boromir's ire.
"I did not mean to. I simply -"
You rounded the corner to find a barely restrained Boromir and a confused, shrinking Fendred. Boromir's eyes softened a little at your appearance and Fendred nearly sagged in relief.
"I think," you began slowly, making your way towards your husband, "that there has been a misunderstanding here." You took Boromir's arm, resting your hand in the crook of his elbow, and felt some of the tension seep out of him.
Fendred nodded. "As I was saying to your husband, I did not realise that this area was off limits to visitors. One of the guards... Well, I did not mean to intrude. I will be on my way."
You made a non-committal comment about seeing him later and he bowed and all but fled the courtyard. Boromir had relaxed a little at his departure but his jaw was still tense and his hands still curled into loose fists. Irritation rose in you and you turned towards him.
"And you. What do you have to say for frightening my poor friend away? His whole visit you have been short with him. Do you really dislike him so much?"
"I do not dislike him," he said, a petulant strain in his voice, as he strode towards the balcony.
"Then I do not understand your behaviour." You followed after him, pausing where he stood stone-faced looking out at the lower circles. "I understand that he and I have been spending a lot of time together but I -"
"Why was he here? Did you tell him about this place?"
"Of course not! I imagine one of the new recruits must have directed him here without realising that this place is ours."
"Ours," he muttered. "Does such a thing even matter to you anymore?"
"Of course it does!" You threw your hands up. "Boromir, please, what is the matter with you?"
He ran a hand through his hair and let out a frustrated huff. "I am not sure, I simply..." He grumbled and turned away. "Your friend bothers me. Though I am not entirely certain why. Or perhaps I know why but am too cowardly to face it."
You stared at his back, his familiar silhouette, the strong line of his shoulders. His words sank into you and all at once everything seemed to make sense. "Boromir, are you jealous?"
He whipped around, a conflicted look on his face. "I am not."
"Are you sure?" You bit back a smile.
"Do not tease me," he grumbled.
You reached for him, cupping his cheek. "You silly man. What do you even have to be jealous of?"
He leaned into your touch, the fire in his eyes banking into something softer, warmer. "I thought that you might have had regrets. That he reminded you of what you could have had if you had married one of your own people."
"Boromir, I could have, if I wanted to. But I did not," you said gently. "I did not because I wanted you."
"Wanted?"
"Want. I'll always want you, my love. There is no one who can change that."
He broke out into a smile so open it made your chest ache. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and then to your lips. You sighed, relishing the feel of him. His scent filled your nose, soap and steel, the smell of home.
"I suppose I owe your friend an apology," he muttered.
"Perhaps more than that! With the way you've been acting, he might not want to return for a visit." You laughed a little. "You know, he has his eye on someone else, his assistant. You were never in danger of losing me."
His eyes grew serious. "I always fear I will lose you."
"Never. Boromir, I promise you, never."
He nuzzled your cheek with his nose, his beard rough on your skin. "Stay with me here, for a little longer. I have missed you."
You nodded, curling into him, just breathing, sinking into the comfort of his familiar arms.
