Boromir was holding the Ring on its chain in his hand. Gold shone red under the weak sunlight, and his thumb swept over it with an odd tenderness. There was a strange light in his eyes.
“What are you going to do?” Pippin heard himself ask.
There was silence for a moment. Then Boromir laughed, sudden and loud and defiant in the still air. He turned and knelt down, and Pippin fought the urge to step back from the wild, angry joy in his face. He kept very still and did not flinch when Boromir took him by the shoulders.
“My friend,” Boromir said, the light red on his face and his eyes gleaming fey. “We are going to bring back the sun.”
Rating: T
Category: Gen
Relationship: Boromir & Pippin
Characters: Boromir, Pippin, Faramir, Denethor
Additional Tags: Emotional manipulation, codependency, corruption, generally unhealthy relationship dynamics
Hehehe I'm not surprised you spotted that one! Tagging @erathene too as you sounded interested!
Full disclosure, this AU is almost ENTIRELY inspired by EmilyBMartin's art, specifically these two posts because something about that second one made my brain short-circuit and I couldn't stop looking at it OR the side profile image of him.
i am normal
ANYWAY the Dark AU is based on the classic "what if Boromir DID take the Ring" but based in the On Swift Wings verse. (Fun fact, technically it was the first AU idea I had!)
Since Rhosynel wasn't with Boromir or the others when he takes the Ring, I got it into my head as to them crossing paths while Aragorn & Co. are hunting Boromir down in a bid to get it back. Rhosynel panics, realising he's in danger, and impulsively choses to help him escape, with the long term goal of getting the Ring away from him.
It does NOT go to plan.
Rhosynel and Boromir essentially end up on the run from the rest of the Fellowship, and she rapidly finds herself out of her depth in trying to act like she's on Boromir's side, while also trying to aid the Fellowship in catching up. Basically there'd be a lot of angst, betrayal, hurt, and minimal comfort!
I don't have much written up, but here's part of what I HAVE typed up feverishly on my phone at 3am 😅
I'm SO glad you asked because I've been keeping this one close to my chest 😂
If anyone else is interested, the WIP Game list can be found Here!
Just because you said you were taking requests for Kinktober . . .
Can I ask for Borry (Boromir/Merry) face slapping?
(I have never done a request before, is this how it works?)
Ask and you shall receive! Per our chat, I cooked up some dark Boromir with a side of face slapping and gaslighting.
Thank you, @tolkienpinupcalendar —it was amazing collaborating with you on this year's Kinktober list, and thank you for giving me this prompt to branch out with!
My Merry 🔒
{E} - Boromir/Merry fic- 2.6k - MIND THE TAGS
Summary:
Merry knew he had messed up. He knew he would be punished, and he would take whatever his Master Boromir gave because he would always be his Merry.
Boromir did not like Lothlórien. Not at all. If he agreed on something with Gimli the dwarf was that neither of them trusted the elves. Legolas was a good companion to have he had to admit, and the keen senses of the elf had come in handy more than once but he didn't want to go through a forest filled with their kind. Gimli had shared his sentiment but now that they met this Enchantress that ruled the realm the dwarf seemed to turn over a new leaf, which only managed to prove his thoughts about how deeply she can manipulate the thoughts of others.
Despite Aragorn's assureances he could not find peace under the canopy of these strange trees, mallorn Legolas had called them. His companions seemed to heal just from being in the forest, their spirit higher, those wounds they might have sustained healed faster, yet Boromir sat alone and brooding, the voice of the lady echoing in his head. "What will you choose son of Gondor?"
...
Days passed and Boromir's mood just turned darker and darker. Even at night he could not find rest. The voice that started to whisper at the back of his mind when he had first set eyes Isildur's bane grew more and more persistent. At first he could ignore it, it was like an annying fly that he could swat away with one movement, but now it was insistent and demanding, a pressure always weighing him down. Why don't you take it Boromir? Don't you want to save Gondor?
Night had fallen once again. Boromir looked at the Ringbearer. Frodo was sleeping peacfully, flat on his back one hand resting on his chest, the other beside him. Boromir felt the urge to take the Ring grew, and his hand reached out even without direct command from him. Even though the rest of the hobbits were slumbering all around Frodo, if one thing Boromir had learned that they would be able to sleep through a raging battle and would be none the wiser. He did not know if this ability were common for these creatures but it was certainly true for his companions. None of them would notice if he were to take It. By the time they were to wake up and notice It's absence he would be out of Lothlórien. He stood up as if seized by an unseen force, hand extended towards Frodo before he shook his head and forced the limb down, beside his body.
He started to walk without any destination -how could he had one- or goal. He needed to empty his head. He longed to spar. When the troubles of being the eldest son of the steward overwhelmed him, a good spar always managed to help him clean his head and put him in a better mood. But here the majority if the elves he had seen preferred the bow as a weapon and did not cross paths with the Fellowship if they could help it.
As he walked he stumbled upon some place which seemed to be a secluded garden with a fountain in the middle of it. A strange feeling seized Boromir and he was ready to turn around and walk away but his legs would not move. He looked around once again and his eyes fell on the Enchantress. How had he not noticed her before, he had now idea. She stood tall and regal, white dress glimmering in the light, and held a pitcher in her hands.
"You wish to find answers Son of Gondor." The Lady said. "Do you want to look into my mirror?"
The immediate refusal was on Boromir's tongue. He had no wish to do as the Lady suggested. He did not trust her, and more, he did not trust any wizardry she might be about to conjure around him. Still his feet moved forward as Galadriel poured the water in the pitcher in the fountain and breathed on the water. "Do not touch the water." she warned as Boromir slowly and carefully leaned above the water.
At first he did not see anything only the stars and canopy of trees reflected in the water but ever so slowly the seemingly still surface started to move. Or it seemed to Boromir and images flashed before his eyes. He saw Minas Tirith. The white city was bathed in sunlight, tall and proud and beautiful like a queen. He saw his people cheering on the streets, children running around on the street and being ordered to stay at home by terrified parents. He saw his father, the steward of Gondow was smiling at him, as he beckoned him foreward and then at last he saw himself, a golden ring, The Ring on his finger before the picture changed.
The sunlight dimmed, and over Minas Tirith black clouds blocked the sky. The city was in ruins and people's cries could be heard. Boromir once again saw himself, his sword drawn and bloodied and quick images flashed. He saw himself slitting Frodo's throat to silence his cry of warning before he took the Ring from him. Beside him Sam lay, unmoving. He saw the horrified expressions of Merry and Pippin how they turned against him then running away bloodied when they were easily outmatched. He saw himself standing safe as orcs murdered the rest of the Fellowship as he watched on. He crouched down beside Aragorn as the ranger was fighting air. "Gondor needs no King." he said to him before the light left the other man's eyes. His sword was drawn and bloodied. So were his hands. And in front of him lay a figure, face down in a pool of blood. He did not need to see the face to know who the person was. It was Faramir. His brother. Faramir was dead. His hands were bloodied.
Boromir stumbled back from the fountain and fell, gasping for air. Faramir was dead. Faramir... His brother. His baby brother... He killed him. He. Killed. Him.
"I fear what you saw will happen if you were to take the Ring Boromir." the Lady said, her voice not reassuring but soft. "My mirror can show many things but what you saw is not written in stone yet. Choose wisely son of Gondor."
Boromir did not even acknowledge the Lady leaving. He did not know how long he sat there in the grass shaking, trying to collect himself. The voice at the back of bis mind that was so strong before grew more and more quiet and then he could not hear it anymore. His resolve was hardened. If the Ring demanded his brothers life Boromir would not come near it again. He was ready to sacrefice almost anything to save Gondor, to protect his people. But not his brother. Never his brother.
Like a match suddenly flaring to life in a room that had been dark, he understood. Fate had led him here; fate had placed the weapon of weapons in his hand, the means to deliver Gondor and heal her after – and it had also placed this little one by his side. There was purpose in it, and he understood it now: Pippin was to be his guide.
He had felt it already, hadn't he? The moment at the top of the stairs, the strange reluctance to put on the Ring until Pippin agreed that it was needed; the moment when he had inadvertently frightened him and felt for a horrible moment that he had crushed something unspeakably precious. Pippin’s comfort was a bellwether, his trust in Boromir a treasure to be defended as fiercely as the safety of his body.
He intended to lead with a strong hand, and with Pippin at his side that strength could not help but be exercised on the matters of the world with a feather-light touch. He would be all the more powerful and beloved for it.
I will put a silver circlet on your head, he promised silently. Prince of all halflings.
Rating: T
Category: Gen
Relationship: Boromir & Pippin
Characters: Boromir, Pippin, Faramir, Denethor
Additional Tags: Emotional manipulation, codependency, corruption, nonsexual boundary issues, generally unhealthy relationship dynamics
“Alone of our fellowship he stood by me,” said Boromir quietly, and Pippin knew that the man was looking down at him where he lay with the blanket over his head. “Do I know that he is the halfling named in the riddle? No. It seems to me that prophecies are fickle things, best interpreted after they have come to pass. But he is a courageous little thing and I love him dearly, and if you had seen him in that moment… I think you would have no doubts.”
“As he is dear to you, so shall he be dear to me,” murmured the other. “But what of the rest of the riddle? What of Isildur's Bane?”
Boromir did not answer for a moment, and Pippin felt dread run in sharp prickles up the inside of his ribs from the bottom of his lungs. He wished he could warn the other man not to ask.
But though Boromir's hand paused its absent up-and-down movement over Pippin's shoulder and arm, he did not sound angry when he finally said, “I will not speak of it here, except to tell you… except to tell you that it has indeed wakened, and it comes now to Gondor just when our need is greatest.” He lowered his voice still further. “I come bearing hope, little brother.”
Rating: T
Category: Gen
Relationship: Boromir & Pippin
Characters: Boromir, Pippin, Faramir, Denethor
Additional Tags: Emotional manipulation, codependency, corruption, nonsexual boundary issues, generally unhealthy relationship dynamics
“You've sat on an ant hill,” Pippin remarked.
“Hm?” asked Boromir, distracted, then, “What?”
“Have you got ants in your trousers?”
“I beg your pardon.”
Pippin rolled his lips between his teeth to stifle a sudden unexpected grin. “Not actually,” he clarified. “It is what we say when somebody has gone all fidgety and can’t sit still. They've sat on an ant-hill and now they've got ants in their trousers.”
Boromir stared down at him. Then he let out a little disbelieving snort of laughter. “A wellspring of dignity and refined speech, you are.”
“That's why they brought me,” said Pippin brightly, and for a moment he felt himself glowing, delighted to have gotten a laugh. But there was an empty space next to him where Merry was supposed to be, and he could feel the distance between himself and his friends tearing open like a wound.
Rating: T
Category: Gen
Relationship: Boromir & Pippin
Characters: Boromir, Pippin, Faramir, Denethor
Additional Tags: Emotional manipulation, codependency, corruption, generally unhealthy relationship dynamics, nonsexual but nonconsensual touching
The halfling was still avoiding his eyes. Boromir took him by the shoulders and ducked his head down, trying to catch his glance. “You can see what I cannot,” he said, and his voice trembled with urgency. “Don't you see? The powers put you here by my side for that reason, to tell me when I stray and catch me back from the precipice. When I wield Isildur's gift, Pippin, I am venturing into a darkness so deep none knows the end of it – but you!” He squeezed Pippin's shoulders and shook him slightly, trying to bring him out of the strange shrinking mood that he had fallen into. “You are standing at the mouth of the cavern, holding the other end of the string that will lead me home.”
Rating: T
Category: Gen
Relationship: Boromir & Pippin
Characters: Boromir, Pippin, Faramir, Denethor
Additional Tags: Emotional manipulation, codependency, corruption, nonsexual boundary issues, generally unhealthy relationship dynamics
