Of Dwarves and Men {Boromir/LOTR}

Chapter 47: Awkward

Chapter 47:

Awkward

    The teasing of Pyrhhin fails to come to an end as the remainder of my female cousins joins our presence out on the White Court.  With Py, Ruelin, Cashel, Denzel and myself, we look like the gathered group on the balcony of Rivendell before our journey.  But much has happened since then, as we've all found love and victory in the times apart.  To think, months ago, that we all were single and nonexistent in histories is almost laughable, especially since we are now famous for our deeds.

    We are a very diverse group of fairly similar people to be sure.  From Ruelin down to Cashel, we very greatly from human to hobbit height.  And then there is the vast range of coloring: from Py's light blonde hair to my deep midnight locks, from light blue to brown eyes.  Our family might just be the most distinctive family to walk the lands, not due to our dissimilar looks, but our characteristic and identical glow to our skin.  We are Phoenicians, after all.

"So, Sidel, how's Boromir as a kisser? One to ten," Ruelin asks from beside me, sending me a smirk as we look over the vast plains of Pelennor.  I look at her with contempt, feeling like we are back at Rivendell and rating the men on their looks.  But as with this previous case, I cannot help answering her questions.  Despite all flaws, I am a woman.

"A strong ten cousin.  He's a natural," I respond easily, avoiding the others' eyes as I stare over the Pelennor Fields.  Additionally, I avoid thinking of Boromir and my previous romantic encounters, solely thinking on avoiding these thoughts.  It's as if I fear the others looking into my mind; rather, I fear my own mind's capabilities.

"Never would've guessed," Pyrhhin adds in, though sarcasm laces her tone.  It really is not all that surprising that he is a good kisser, seeing that the race of man has different morals than that of dwarves.  Men take no heed in courting and interacting with women who are not their intended, whereas dwarves wait romanticism until they find their One.

"What about you Cashel? Denzel? How are Frodo and Eomer?" Ruelin questions further.  I roll my eyes at my cousin, knowing she lacks in every reservation.  Indeed, she seems to lack a filter completely, remembering from past experience how humiliating her comments and questions can be.

"Frodo's a little too gentle, but great all the same," Cashel answers happily, and in her typical characteristic manner.  I smirk at this whole situation, since we are all inexperienced in this field of "study."  Like I said, we have waited for our Ones to partake in any of these things.  It's quite hypocritical to judge their kissing when we are rubbish (or once were) at kissing.

"Given his skill, I'd day Eomer's had many women... What about you two?  Wouldn't be fair just to question us," Denzel answers, looking at Pyrhhin and Ruelin with utter curiosity.  This cousin is very down-to-earth and of the quieter type when compared to her siblings, and especially her brother.  Therefore, it was even more surprising that she ended up with the loud and obnoxious Eomer.

"For two-thousand plus years, Legolas isn't all that great.  I'm having to reteach him how--" Ruelin begins, only for me to throw my hands over my ears.  Already, my cousin is delving into far more detail than I'd ever desire to hear, and especially about the elf prince.  I will not lie in saying that Legolas is truly not one of my favorite people, but if Ruelin is happy with him, I will learn to live with his attitude.  However, that does not mean I want to hear of him in a romantic sense.

"I've heard enough! Bilbo's great and that's all I'm saying about this subject," Pyrhhin cuts in, effectively saving my ears from too much information on Legolas.  But at the same time, I do not want to hear about Bilbo either, seeing as he is practically an uncle to me, not a brother-in-law.  After all, I grew up with Bilbo's common visits, whereas Pyrhhin had yet to truly meet him until this year.