The Hobbit / LOTR -oneshots

Cingulomania - Boromir

Warnings: longing
Word count: 1017
Other: -
Requested: no

Cingulomania
(n.) a strong desire to hold a person in your arms.

Boromir watched as the reeds swayed in the wind, ringlets appearing on the still water's surface as they bent and grazed the surface. Their gentle movements reminded him painfully of you, how you would move when you were making dinner or pace around the house when something was making you nervous. You were always so graceful, every movement pre-thought and unhurried, yet you always had the time to do everything.

The ache in his chest was forever present and unbearable in strength. It felt like someone was pulling his heart out of his chest while simultaneously crushing it with their fists. He sent you letters every time he could, trying to put to words how much he missed you, but every phrase he tried to use and every metaphor fell short, he couldn't just write I miss you. Because the feeling he felt for you was much more than just a longing for you. It was a burning need to have you close, to hear your voice, feel your skin against his. He wanted to be able to make you laugh again, to see the way your eyes sparkled in the low light of the stars.

He tried avoiding the thought of you, hoping that it would make the ache in his chest ease, but the more he tried not to, the more persistent your image in his brain became. It haunted him in the late evenings when he sat next to his desk, trying to get some work done. Every time he and his companions crossed through a city, he had to remind himself again and again that it was not you behind the stall that sold flowers.

He was slowly starting to accept the fact that you would not leave his brain until he got to hold you again. So he reimagined the moment the two of you would meet, over and over again, to give himself something to think about other than the longing. So he imagined you running to him, jumping into his arms, your arms around his neck. He imagined you standing with your back turned to him as he slowly snuck closer to you, and wrapped his arms around you, making you jump slightly with fright. He wanted to bury his head into your neck, to smell the sweet scent of your skin again. He wanted your hands to run through his hair, smooth down the stubborn strands that he never got to stay down. He wanted your gentle words to lull him back to sleep.

That was what he leaned on when the pain became too much. It was something he would think about that would push him forward when the pain was unbearable. It was what he focused his mind and energy on when he felt like quitting. Every cell in his body was waiting for the moment that the two of you would meet again.

- - -

Back at Gondor, you leaned against the windowpane, your eyes locked on the night sky above you. The whole sky was filled with them, only a few small tufts of cloud were drifting there, obstructing your view. As beautiful as the night was, you were still alone, with a hollow feeling in your chest. It had been months since Boromir had departed, and even still he sent you letters every chance he got, they didn't make up for the fact that he was far away. He had promised you that he would return, but you knew better than anybody that people couldn't always hold onto those kinds of promises, no matter how hard they wanted. Your father had promised to return too, but the war had still taken him from you, leaving you alone as your mother had passed during childbirth.

So it had just been you and Boromir for a long time. You and he had been trying for a child now, but so far, no luck, but neither of you was ready to give up hope yet. You were both young still, there was time. But it had still been a shock to you when he had told you he had been called to Rivendell. He didn't want to go, you could see him hating the idea with every cell of his body, but he had little say in the matter, as his father had ordered him to go. So he left, with tearful goodbyes and numerous kisses, with a promise that he would return for you. No matter what.

Your longing for him was growing with each passing day, the urge to be held by his arms ever growing. You wished to wake up next to him, pressed to a warm chest, his arms around your waist as he slept, every breath tickling your neck. You wished that he would be there to chase away your nightmares that were becoming more and more frequent. He would hold you and assure you there was nothing to fear, as you slowly slipped back into a peaceful sleep.

But your yearning for him was higher than ever now, as you had just found out that you were with child. You knew you could not do it alone. Even with Faramir's increasing amount of help, you needed your husband there to hold your hand. You just couldn't even think of the option of your child never meeting their father, Boromir not being able to meet them at all. So you prayed and pegged all the higher forces every night that they would bring him back to you safely. That he would be there when they were born, to witness their first steps and first words.

(And then he died, and he never met his baby, and you were left alone forever. *evil laugh*)

Well, NO. I "sort of" want to write a part two where he comes back, I'm not taking any of that original plot crap for this, my romanticist's heart isn't having it. What do you think? Part 2 or no?