The Hobbit / LOTR -oneshots

Cingulomania 2 - Boromir

Warnings: signs of battle and blood, fear of death
Word count: 1472
Other: -
Requested: by so so so many of you guys, so here it is!

Boromir returns from his long journey to destroy the ring, only to find you missing.

You sat on the floor of Boromir's old bedroom, watching as Nicholas stacked the blocks on top of each other. When the pile got too tall for him, he knocked it over, laughing, before he started building it again. You helped him stack the first few blocks before he pushed your hand away, wanting to build by himself. You smiled to yourself, feeling a prick in your heart. The boy was a smaller version of his father, having your eyes but his hair and nose, and the same quite careless and sometimes stubborn nature. Even his smile reminded you so much of Boromir that it was painful, but you didn't show it.
"What's wrong, mama?" He asked, stopping as he had placed the last block on top of the tower, the stack swaying slightly but staying upright. You shook yourself out of your thoughts, giving him a smile.
"Nothing is wrong, darling. I'm just thinking." You assured him, trying to hide the pain. He was, like his father, extremely good at reading people's emotions.

The uncertainty of your husband's fate loomed like a dark cloud over you, and you did your best to keep yourself from believing the rumors that flew around the city that he had died. You told yourself again and again that you could only believe the news when, if, the people he had traveled with told you they were true. So you clung to hope, keeping the growing fear hidden from your son. You prayed to all higher forces that your son wouldn't have to grow fatherless like you.

- - - -

Boromir ran through the kingdom with haste, urging his exhausted limbs to carry him up the stairs so he could see you.
"Just one more flight and I get to see her. Just one more flight." He kept repeating in his mind as he climbed the seemingly endless stairs. He had just arrived moments ago, the company gathering one last time in Gondor to attend Aragorn's coronation. But if he was truthful, the fact that his kingdom was about to receive a new king was irrelevant to him, he just wanted to see you again. One of the serving girls had told him to look in his room, so he had sprinted in the direction of your shared bedroom, ignoring the calls of the maid behind him.

When he stormed inside the bedroom, his heart grew cold. There was no one inside, but it was clear that something horrific had happened inside of it. The whole room was a mess, every piece of furniture laying on their side, broken. Splinters of wood decorated the floor, torn books, and the feathers of the billow moved in the air that blew in from a broken window. But the worst of it was the blood, it was everywhere. Both red and black, it was sprayed onto the torn curtains, a large black handprint on the wall, the blood smeared around it. But the most terrifying find had to be a large puddle of red blood in the middle of the floor, now turned brown as time passed.

The letter he had received told that you were in good health, but he started to wonder if was it perhaps sent before the battle, as the sender had been in such a rush that they hadn't included a date, the penmanship barely readable as he inspected the words scrawled onto the paper again. The parchment was dirtied and wrinkled as he had read it over and over so many times, trying to find more comfort from the scarce words.
"Rumour is that you are still alive. Gondor needs you. Y/N is in good health." That was all. Three short sentences, none of which could be used to determine who the sender was. The penmanship offered no help either, the rushed scrawl looking like it had been written against someone's back. There were no distinguishable traits in the lettering either.

Boromir fell to his knees, the exhaustion finally catching up with him, tears pooling in his eyes. You couldn't be gone, you just couldn't. The letter had said you were alive, no one he had talked to after his arrival had even hinted towards the fact that you were gone.

But seeing the room empty and everything broken, a dark bool of human blood in the middle of it, his mind immediately jumped to the worst conclusion. He started sobbing into his hands, the fear and hope he had been feeling for the months past mixing inside of him, creating a turmoil of emotions he was impossible to escape. The longing to hold you in his arms still continued to torture him, the looming dread that he never may be able again coursing through his mind, adding vigor to his sobs, forcing him to lean against the wall to keep himself from completely collapsing to the floor. He lost track of time and how long he was there, he just sat there, defeated and alone, all the contradicting emotions crashing through him, not giving him a moment's peace.

"Boromir."
"Boromir?"
"Boromir!" It took Faramir three calls of his name to pull a reaction out of the older brother, and he lifted his head up, groggy and

"She is in your old bedroom, this one, as you probably noticed, is not inhabitable at the moment."
"She's alright?" Boromir asked, tears pooling into his eyes again, this time out of pure relief.
"They are alright, both of them," Faramir nodded, looking puzzled, pulling his brother up from the dirty floor. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, trying to catch the true meaning of the words spoken.
"B-Both?" Boromir was confused, wiping his cheeks with his sleeve, trying to clear the fogginess of his vision.
"Hasn't anybody told you? Y/N had your son, he's seven months old now."
"I-I have a son?" Boromir asked, still confused by all the new information.
"Yes," Faramir said patiently, pushing his brother to get him moving, " let's go meet them."

- -

The journey to his old room felt like it took forever yet it felt like a blink of an eye. They were standing in front of the dark wooden door now, the handle rusty and a few nails crooked. Boromir pushed the door open without knocking, and the first thing his eyes landed on was you. You were sitting on the floor, your hair cascading against your back, the deep blue dress seemingly soft against your skin. When you turned and your eyes met his, every bad thought was erased from his brain. When you heard the door opening, you turned around and dropped the block you were holding.

Boromir didn't even think twice as he strode forward and scooped you up from the floor, pressing you against his chest tightly. It was better than he had imagined, your gentle scent wafting around him and soothing him, your arms sliding across his arms to rest on his shoulders. The fleeting touch of your lips in his ear as you whispered sweet nothing, soothing him even more. If he hadn't been standing, he would probably have fallen asleep, right then and there. The feeling of safety overwhelmed him.

You couldn't help the tears as they fell from your eyes. He was back and you couldn't have been happier, all of your fears and worries melted away as you were pressed against him. His arms were so tight that they almost hurt, but you didn't mind, you just leaned closer to him, digging your fingers into his shoulders.

"Mama, who is that?" The small words of your son broke you through the trance you had trapped each other in, and Boromir set you down, turning to look at the small child. You wiped your cheeks hastily and bent down to scoop him up into your arms.
"This, pumpkin, this is your dad." You held him up so he could see Boromir clearly. Neither of them said a word in a while.

Your son surprised you by holding out his arms towards your husband, and you gently handed him off, seeing the gentle shake of Boromir's arms as you placed the boy into his arms. They watched each other, without breaking the prevailing silence. Your son leaned his head against Boromir's chest, and the latter closed his eyes, a tear escaping from his right eye. You watched the two men in your life with a teary smile, and finally had the courage to hope that everything would be alright.

Part 2 of this because so many of you wished for it!