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middleearthpixie · 7 months

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Living Proof

Summary: When he puts himself between the Uruk-hai and Merry and Pippin, Boromir knows it means sacrificing himself. But it also means redemption for his near betrayal of Frodo and the Fellowship, and so it is a price he is more than willing to pay.

Kaia has been on her own for as long as she can remember, having escaped a terrible life in a village not far from Mordor. When she hears the sounds of battle, she knows what it means and when she ventured forth and finds a gravely wounded man lying amongst the leaves and debris, she takes him in, not knowing he is actually the son of the steward of Gondor.

Angry at himself and faced with a long road to recovery, Boromir does not make things easy on Kaia and it is only through her own sheer will that she does not give into the urge to hit him over the head with something on a daily basis. That refusal to give up brings about changes neither one of them could have foreseen. She just wanted to save him. She never thought he would save her in return…

Fandom: The Lord of the Rings (AU, Boromir lives)

Pairing: Boromir x ofc Kaia

Warnings: Description of wounds, but nothing too graphic

Rating: T

Word Count: 4k

Tag List: @sotwk @fizzyxcustard @evenstaredits @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @emmyspov @finnofamerica @lathalea @ass-deep-in-demons @quiall321 @mistofstars @justfollowtheroad @guardianofrivendell @glassgulls @doctorwhump @kmc1989 @estethell

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Kaia crept along the edge of the pathway, ready to dive into the foliage to her left if the need arose and with the way orcs seemed to have taken over practically all of the woodland areas of Middle Earth, the need was most likely going to arise and soon. The scratches on her arms and legs and cheeks from her last encounter with them were only partially healed. Damn orcs caused more trouble than a thousand field mice on a rampage in her larder. More trouble, more damage, and far more aggravation, that was for certain.

The thunder of pounding feet shattered the silence and the deer she’d been stalking leapt off into the brush like quicksilver. She stood there for a moment, scowling at the skittish deer, then she sank into the brush as well. And not a moment too soon, for she had no sooner moved off the path when the army of orcs came thundering around a bend from the north.

She sank back as deeply into the trees and underbrush as she could and willed herself into absolute silence. From where she stood, it seemed the orcs were endless, pressing on without stopping, without slowing down, and as she moved throughout a good portion of Middle Earth, she was all too familiar with orcs and could say with certainty she’d never seen so many on the move at one time. This was no pack, but an army, and one, it seemed, with a sole purpose.

They stalked something.

Well, it wouldn’t be her, that was for sure.

The thunder dulled to a low rumble, but as she was about to step out onto the path once more, the thunder returned. Only this time, no orcs came around the bend, nor did the thunder come from the north. Instead, it rolled up from the south as the forest came alive with not only that thunder, but with the clang of steel and the whistling thwock of arrows.

A battle? Orcs battled with one another on a regular basis, but never on this great a scale. Somewhere just south of where she stood it seemed they were suddenly waging war. Perhaps they’d found their quarry?

Her curiosity getting the better of her, Kaia crept toward the sounds. Foolish, no doubt, but she needed to know whether or not the time had come to move on, as she did more often than she cared to think about. Not that she wished to move. She’d been in this part of Middle Earth for some time now—although she could not say for certain just how long that time actually was, as the days had a way of blending together. Even so, it was long enough that the cabin that had been abandoned when she found it was now actually something of a cozy little home.

But at the same time, she needed to know if she was in for much in the way of trouble, and so there she was, sneaking through the underbrush with a care she reserved usually for tracking swift-footed animals. She crept over fallen logs and around decayed stumps, picked her way carefully through pricker bushes and all the while, her heart beat fast enough that she could hear it as her pulse pounded through her temples. Still, she’d learned in at the time she’d been on her own, how to move without a sound, and so she reached the top of a clearing surrounded by mossed-over stone ruins that had once probably been white and immense but were now little more than stained and discolored stone scraps.

She crept closer to the stone, using it for cover as she peered around at the scene before her. The halflings caught her attention, for while she had heard of them, she’d never seen any. Compared to the orcs surrounding them, they were indeed small. And terrified, from the looks of it, even as they shouted to catch the orcs’ attention to lure them away from the wide river she knew flowed along the western shore.

Without hesitation, she reached for her bow and slipped an arrow from the quiver on her back. She lay the arrow on the rest, but did not draw back the string. Not yet. There were far too many orcs for her to intervene on behalf of the halflings and while she felt pang of sympathy and the annoying sting of helplessness, there was truly nothing she could do for them. She certainly was not about to sacrifice herself for anyone she did not know.

But then, hurtling over the ridge across from her, came a man and in his grasp, a sword of gleaming steel. Without hesitation, he threw himself into the fray, swinging that blade with an expert precision that was almost fluid in its grace. A large ivory horn banged against his hip and as he swung about to his right, he grabbed it with his left hand to jerk to his lips. The bleats rang out with such power, the sound actually knocked her back a step and she stumbled over a downed branch. She lost her footing, toppling end over end back down into the gully behind her. Her bow went in one direction, the arrow in another, and she landed hard enough that she knocked the wind from herself. Stunned, she lay staring up at the leaf-spattered sky, the sounds of battle sounding so far away and hollow as she struggled to draw breath. The sounds of the battle drowned out the sounds of her fall, thankfully, and when her lungs finally chose to re-inflate, she gasped to fill them.

With a soft groan, she managed to roll onto her hands and knees, and slowly got to her feet again. Steel meeting steel reverberated at a normal volume once more as she shook off the last of the cobwebs, retrieved her bow and the arrow, and climbed back to her perch.

She reached the top in time to see two orcs snatch up the halflings, just scooped each up and lumbered out of the clearing, still moving south while the rest of them continued the battle. The fighting raged, but like the two orcs and their halflings, it moved south as well.

As quickly as they erupted, the sounds of battle ceased and silence slammed down all around her as the last of the orcs followed their brethren south and as the path wound out of sight, so did the army. Kaia waited wit heated breath, to see if any would return. When she was satisfied that they would not, she slipped the bow back where it belonged, the arrow back into the quiver, and instead eased her broadsword from the sheath at her right hip, and crested the hill to descend into the clearing. She looked about for the man with the horn, as she’d not seen what his fate had been, only to find he was nowhere about.

But, as the battle sounds rang into memory, she realized that she still heard something. Wounded orcs perhaps, so she crossed the clearing to the opposite slope, and crept as noiselessly as she could, over the ridge and climbed down into the clearing.

At first, she thought perhaps the sounds actually did come from the battle still being fought further upriver and that the woods for some reason bastardized them. But as she moved about the broken, decimated orc bodies, leaves, tree branches, arrows and other abandoned weapons, toward a large oak slightly to the northeast, Kaia realized that noise was not that of a battle at all. And as she climbed up the opposite slope toward that big tree, her fingers tightened of their own about her sword’s somewhat worn grips, her heart hammering louder still against her ribs, leaving her as breathless as she had been when she’d slammed down into the hard-packed earth only minutes before.

A man lay there, somewhat propped up by the tree’s gnarled trunk. But that wasn’t what made her hand tighten about her sword until her fingers went numb. Nor was it the sight of the the arrows that riddled him which rendered her dumb for a long moment, her grip loosening, the sword clattering into the broken leaves and debris at her feet.

No, what made her stare was that he still lived.

His breathing came rapid and shallow, each breath punctured by a moan of pain that grew softer with each one drawn. Sweat soaked him, plastering his dark hair to his head, the arrows quivering as he fought for air, which in turn led to more moaning.

She dropped to her knees alongside him, and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “There, there,” she whispered when he moaned again, “I’ll not hurt you.”

His eyes had been closed, but as she spoke, the lids lifted slowly. His eyes were pale, blue or perhaps gray, she couldn't tell. She could tell they focused on nothing, however, but darted about as he gasped, “They took the little ones…”

His eyes slid shut once more, and he went still. Kaia stared, her mouth going oddly dry as she whispered, “Please… breathe, won’t you?”

“I’m sorry,” he managed to whisper. “I am so sorry…”

“Easy now,” she patted his shoulder again. “The orcs are gone, but they might come back.”

She peered over her shoulder, at where her sword lay. It was just beyond reach. Turning back to the man, she murmured, “I’ll be but a moment.”

A low moan, even softer still, answered her. She patted his shoulder a third time then scooted back to snatch up her sword. Footsteps grew louder and the urge to bolt surged through her. Self-preservation screamed at her to simply run, to blend into the woods and disappear before the orc army returned.

But she couldn't leave him. She might not be able to do much, but if she left him there, he’d be condemned to death. She counted no less than five arrows protruding from his large body. His surcoat and tunic were dark—royal blue and scarlet respectively, so it was impossible to tell how much blood he’d lost. But, a childhood spent on a farm taught her all she need know about bleeding and injuries and how to treat them and her mother’s voice sounded in her head.

With that, she slid her blade back into its scabbard and returned to the man’s side. “Come. We need to leave. Now.”

“No…” he almost whimpered, his head lolling from side to side, “leave me…”

“I’ll do no such thing.” She crouched, grabbed his arm and, whispering, “Forgive me,” hefted him to his feet.

His cry rang out, raw and anguished and she winced as it echoed throughout the clearing. “Hush… lest you wish them to return.”

“I cannot…”

“You can and you will.” She gritted, ignoring the dull ache in her back as it felt like every bone in her spine compacted from the weight of him pulling down on her. He towered over her, far broader than she would ever be, and could barely stand on his own. Two arrows protruded from his left thigh, and with each step, he whimpered as his weight shifted from his uninjured leg to his injured one.

“It’s all right,” she whispered, ignoring the trickle of sweat rolled down along her spine, and down between her breasts. It had been a cool day, almost crisp, but as she all but dragged him from the clearing of Amon Hen, it might as well have been the dead of summer. Sweat soaked her tunic and dampened her hair, leaving it to hang in wet strings about her face, which she was certain was most likely bright red by now from the exertion of dragging a full grown man through the woods. If that wasn’t bad enough, he could barely walk, which mean the toes of his boots caught on every single bit of debris in their path. Never mind the arrows still protruding from his body. Her initial reaction had been to yank them out, but then wisdom prevailed and she left them in place, although she wished she had something to wrap about each one to keep them as steady as possible until it was safe for her to remove them.

“Please…” His voice was fainter still. “Leave me to die and go on… if they come back…”

“Oh, hush and just try to help me, if you can.”

“I beg… your pardon…”

He grew heavier still, but as the thunder grew louder once more, she ignored the pain in her back, the burn of the muscles pulling along her neck and shoulder, ignored everything but the need to get him—and herself—out of danger as quickly as she could.

Black dots danced before her eyes and her blood roared in her ears as the thunder grew louder and the man grew heavier still. Her right shoulder felt almost in danger of separating completely from her body as she stumbled over an exposed root and he let out a howl.

They slid most of the way down the last slope and across a wide path, and it wasn't until she spotted the familiar towering oak tree that marked the beginning of the narrow path deeper into the thickest part of the forest that she allowed herself to think they might actually be safe.

But then he slipped from her to land on his knees and the howl that rang out was primal in its agony, reverberating through the woods with enough force that birds took flight.

Kaia froze. There was no way possible the orcs did not hear that. They had to.

“Please,” she moved around to grab the man’s hands, her right arm only barely obeying her by now, it hurt so badly, “we need to get off this road now. Those orcs are on their way and I cannot fend off that entire horde alone.”

“Leave me,” he whispered.

“I’ll not and I swear, if you say it again, I’ll drag you back by your hair.” She crouched to grab his arm and drape it about her neck once more. “Now, on your feet!”

With that, she yanked and stood, a hot sting racing along the side of her neck as she did. He weighted down her shoulder, but at least managed to stand and there must have been a bit of divine intervention at work for they made it into the darkness, off the path and out of sight of any orcs.

The cabin was foreboding from a distance and no warmer up close, and Kaia kept it that way, as it looked as if it had been unoccupied for ages, which meant no one would stop there if they didn't absolutely have to. From time to time, vagrants thought to pass a night there, only to find themselves firmly evicted at the point of her sword.

Although it looked run down and dilapidated, she’d made certain to reinforce it in any way she could, and so as she shoved open the door, then shoved the man into the great room, she was finally able to breathe easily as she pushed the door shut behind them and locked it firmly.

The great room was sparsely furnished, but thankfully she did have a sofa and that was where she not so elegantly deposited her large parcel, who whimpered as he sank into the cushions.

“I know, it isn’t the most comfortable place, but I’m fairly certain my arm is about to fall off, so you will simply have to make do. Give me a moment to wash my hands and I’ll tend to your wounds.”

“Hopeless…”

“Nothing is hopeless as long as you draw breath.” Rubbing her sore shoulder, she moved to the kitchen, where the ewer she’d filled that morning held enough water for her to wash her hands and still have some left over to wash his wounds.

She kept her meager supplies in the kitchen cupboard, and brought over what she had. Needle and thread, should she have to stitch his wounds, and worn, discolored strips of linen she’d used in the past as bandages. They looked sketchy, but were in fact clean.

“I’ll be back in but a moment,” she told him, setting the things on the stone table before the sofa. “I’ll need to get something I can tear for dressings.”

“Please don't trouble…”

“Stop it. I am not going to keep telling you that.” She turned to go into her bedroom, which was a small room off the kitchen and toward the rear of the cabin. As she rarely wore gowns any longer, she had several chemises she kept folded in the low chest for just such an occasion, although it was usually herself she was patching back together and never another body.

The linen was old, but also clean, and tore easily into strips that would be folded as necessary and when she brought them back out, she said, “I am sorry, but I’ve nothing to give you for pain. A bit of wine, perhaps, but it is more vinegar than anything now.”

He didn't reply, but just let his head loll from left to right. He was frightfully pale, the darkness of his hair emphasizing it, and sweat beaded his high forehead while a scruffy beard shadowed his cheeks and jaw. He looked as if he’d been lost in these woods for months. As carefully as she could manage, she unfastened the elegant jade and silver clasp that held his fine grayish-brownish-green cloak at his throat, pulled off his gloves, then worked the fine leather surcoat from him without causing him too much pain. His tunic and trousers would have to be cut from him, if she was to be able to reach his wounds, but there was no other options. Hopefully she would find something to give him to wear. She picked up many odds and ends in her travels, and could probably come up with a shirt large enough from him to wear. Trousers would be a different story, but she would worry about that when—and honestly, if—the time came.

Along with the two arrows embedded in his left thigh, three more protruded from his torso—one just below his left collarbone, one only slightly lower, and one down just above his left hip. He’d been incredibly lucky, although she doubted he would agree with her. As far as she could tell, she could remove them, but there was no promising he would survive it, or the coming days.

Still, she had to try, and so as carefully as she could, she removed the one at his collarbone, her stomach clenching at the soft grind of the arrowhead against his bone. He stiffened, a hiss of breath leaking through his clenched teeth as she worked it free and blood spilled from the wound.

“I know it hurts,” she murmured, “and for that I am sorry, but there is no avoiding it.”

She dropped the arrow onto the floor and pressed a folded square of linen against his chest at the blood bubbling up. Within minutes, she had the bleeding slowed, her hands reddened from it as she first probed the wound, then flushed it, and when she was certain she had the bleeding under control, she then threaded her needle to stitch the wound closed.

He stiffened with each step, but remained surprisingly stoic, but finally sank into unconsciousness as she went about moving to the next wound. And the next. With endless patience, she removed the arrows, cleaned the wounds, sewed them up, and bandaged them, not stopping to rest or do much more than wash her hands when they grew too bloodied, or to light the lamp when it grew too dark for her to see what she was doing.

Finally, she finished and sat back with a soft groan, bowing her back, and sighed with relief as her spine popped and cracked and the pressure eased. Then, she stood, moving to the far end of the sofa, taking care not to fall over the man’s boots, which she’d simply tossed aside after tugging them off.

The pump for the water was behind the cabin and she filled the ewer once more, then brought it inside, where she’d let it warm over the fire, which was little more than embers, but wouldn’t take much to stoke back to life.

It had to be near midnight by the time she sank back onto the edge of the stone table and as gently as she could manage, set about bathing the man’s face, his neck, down into the broad plane of his chest, along his arms, his midsection—being careful not to jostle him or get the bandages wet. They were bloodstained, but it had begun to take on the rusty hue of old blood, so she breathed a sigh of relief. She had managed to staunch the bleeding and she didn't kill him, so perhaps he would survive the night after all.

She sat there for a while, just watching his chest rise and fall, shallow still, but not nearly as shallow as it had been earlier. His jaw clenched and he whimpered every now and again, but otherwise, he seemed as at peace as one could be in that situation.

Her stomach growled to remind her of why she’d been in the forest to begin with, and so with a sigh, she rose and moved to the cupboard to see what she might have to feed her guest come morning. Not much, unfortunately. She’d have to check the larder, and so out into the darkness she stepped.

All was quiet. Even the nocturnal animals seemed to sense the disruption to their habitat and so remained wherever they spent their days. A gentle breeze wafted through the trees, cooler than it had been of late, which meant summer had actually finally ended and the cold weather was on its way.

The larder was a bit more promising, a few eggs, thanks to the market that popped up every now and then on the western side of the forest. Black market, no doubt, but she didn't care. Eggs were eggs and she was happy to have them, even if they cost nearly as much as gold now. A slab of bacon procured with the eggs. A joint of beef. But not much else.

Still, it would be enough, or so she hoped.

Wood cracked in the distance. Most likely a raccoon or some other creature just going about their business, but just in case… Kaia slunk back into the house and dropped the heavy wood bar into the rests.

A bowl of apples, picked not to far from where she’d found the man, stood on the battered kitchen table. It was better than nothing, so she grabbed one and made her way back into the great room, where she’d planned to sit up and watch over her patient. However, her body thought differently and as she sank into the lone chair, across from the sofa, and leaned her head back for a moment—only a moment, mind you—the apple rolled from her grasp as sleep snuck up on her and clubbed her over the head.

#Lord of the Rings #LOTR AU #Boromir #Boromir fic #LOTR fanfic #Lord of the Rings Fanfic #Fan fiction #LOTR fanfiction #AU #Boromir x OC #Is it hot in here?#Romance #Sean Bean #Everybody Lives #Sons of Gondor

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zero0ycinema · 2 years

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Funeral Ship

#the lord of the rings #tolkien #lotr fanart #lotr #faramir #boromir #sons of gondor #gondor #the two towers #watercolor

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artbyleav · 1 month

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“Boromir! I cried. Where is thy horn? Whither goest thou? O Boromir! But he was gone.”

Rip boromir you would have loved the ents I just know

#my art #be at peace son of Gondor #lord of the rings #fanart #lotr fanart #boromir fanart #boromir

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grondds-and-roses · 1 year

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#pippin took #pippin #peregrin took #merry brandybuck #meriadoc brandybuck #aragorn #aragorn son of arathorn #lotr #lord of the rings #the fellowship of the ring #the two towers #the return of the king #jrrt #jolkien rolkien rolkien tolkien #gondor #minas tirith

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lulii999 · 16 days

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The way I would actually die for Faramir and Eowyn.

#faramir x eowyn #faramir #eowyn #farawyn #lord of the rings #fanart #art #lord of the rings fanart #my art #character #character art #artwork #lotr #eowyn of rohan #lotr eowyn #faramir of gondor #faramir son of denethor #return of the king #illustration

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merry-harlowe · 1 year

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I would rather spend a lifetime with you, than face all the Ages of this world alone.

*t4t indigiqueers your fantasy otp* (inspired by @neechees gif sets!!)

#my art #aragorn x arwen #arwen evenstar #aragorn #aragorn son of arathorn #lord of the rings #ndn #indigenous art #lotr #fotr #fellowship of the ring #please. don’t be weird on this post by god #i think rivendell is fantasy nw coast #and Rohan/Gondor have very clear plains connections

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sylveongender · 4 months

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thinking about how aragorn wears boromir’s bracers after his death

image description under the cut!

[ID: first image is of boromir where he’s sitting down and you can see his bracer on his arm and the second image is of aragorn with his arm up where you can see the same bracer. the bracer is brown leather with an intricate design on it of feathers at the top towards the elbow, star like symbols run down the middle of the feather design, the white tree of gondor is on the bottom towards the wrist and finally outside the wrist area on both sides is some swirly looking accent design. End ID.]

#and you can see the same bracers be worn by aragorn even in his death 🥲#he kept them all the way till the end </3 #aragorn #boromir #aragorn son of arathorn #boromir son of denethor #lotr #lord of the rings #the lord of the rings #tolkien #gondor

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paxny · 6 months

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Lotr where everything is the same except Boromir is the only character who isn’t a muppet.

Every single other character that appears is played by a muppet. But Boromir is still Sean Bean.

My man would be so, so confused it would be great.

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modernincorrectlotrhobbit · 1 year

Conversation

Aragorn, to Boromir: There are two types of people in this group. Observe.

Aragorn: EVERYONE, the floor is lava!

Sam: *quickly helps Frodo, Merry, and Pippin onto the counter*

Legolas: *pushes Gimli off the sofa*

Aragorn: See?

#source: ?#incorrect quotes #incorrect Hobbit quotes #incorrect lotr quotes #incorrect lord of the rings quotes #the hobbit #lord of the rings #aragorn #ARAGORN SON OF ARATHORN #boromir #Boromir of Gondor #samwise gamgee #sam gamgee #the fellowship of the ring #the fellowship

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where-our-stories-start · 1 year

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#lord of the rings #lotr #the fellowship of the ring #boromir #boromir of gondor #aragorn #aragorn son of arathorn #sean bean #viggo mortensen #be at peace son of gondor

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tiny-tini-imagines · 7 months

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Aragorn is in love with a female human reader

So, since i wrote some headcanons about Legolas being in love with a female elf, I thought about writing some for the other members of the fellowship too. If you'd like to read diffenrent character constellations than mine, (characters, races, franchise), feel free to ask, I'd be really happy about it.

Headcanons - Lord of the rings

summary: Aragorn is in love with a female human reader

time setting: shortly after Aragorn's coronation

(added: character art, what they would say to them, or about them)

Sunrise Conversations: In the early mornings, when the kingdom is still asleep, Aragorn and you would often sit on the walls of Minas Tirith, watching the sunrise and sharing quiet conversations about your hopes and dreams for the future.

Handwritten Letters: Despite your close proximity, Aragorn takes pleasure in sending handwritten letters to you, sealed with the royal seal of Gondor. He enjoys the anticipation of your response, no matter if its by letter of in person. (He writes you every day, if he ever has to leave you for some days or other way around)

A Willing Listener: Aragorn is an attentive listener, hanging on to your every word, showing that your thoughts and feelings matter deeply to him.

Dances in the Courtyard: Occasionally, when the court is not in session, Aragorn would occasionaly sweep you into an impromptu dance in the castle's courtyard, your laughter echoing through the stone walls.

Endless Respect: Aragorn treats you with unwavering respect, valuing your opinions and decisions as equal to his own.

Shared Journeys: You embark on long rides through the countryside, exploring the lands of Gondor together, taking solace in the beauty of the kingdom and the comfort of your presence. (You'd often talk to your people, especially after thw war and try to listen and help them as best as possible, people love to see you together).

"My love, every day I am reminded of the incredible strength and grace you bring to our kingdom, and to my heart."

Regal Courtesy: As King of Gondor, he still maintains the same level of courtesy and humility with you as he would with any subject.

Shared Responsibilities: While he bears the weight of the kingdom's responsibilities, he makes sure to include you in important decisions and trusts your judgment.

"She possesses a heart as courageous as any warrior I've known, and her wisdom has guided us through many trials. Gondor is fortunate to have such a steadfast ally by its side."

Respect for Your Independence: Aragorn respects your independence and encourages you to pursue your interests and passions, even as his queen. (His loyalty to you is unwavering, and he will stand by your side through any challenge or adversity.)

Healing Touch: Aragorn tends to any injuries you sustain with a gentle touch and skilled hands, his care and concern evident in every motion.

Understanding Silences: Aragorn understands the power of shared silences, finding comfort in simply being in your presence.

The King's Lullaby: Aragorn hums a soft, ancient lullaby to you when you can't sleep, his voice a soothing balm to your soul.

The Kings's Comfort: You'd often find yourself in his arms, after a nightmare and him whispering soothing words into your ear.

"I know it was a frightening dream, but I promise, I'll chase away the shadows and keep you safe."

Gentle Affection: His gestures are filled with gentleness and affection, whether it's a tender kiss on the forehead or a warm, reassuring hand on your shoulder.

Protector and Champion: He takes his role as your protector seriously, ensuring your safety and well-being are his top priorities.

"No matter what challenges lie ahead, I want you to know that I will always be by your side, my heart forever entwined with yours."

Laughter-Filled Evenings: You share evenings filled with laughter and storytelling, surrounded by a circle of close friends and trusted advisors, reveling in the joy of being together.

His Favorite Book: Aragorn keeps a copy of the your favorite book in his personal library, its well-worn pages a testament to how deeply he values your interests. He'd often read it to you, when you have troubles falling asleep.

Moonlit Picnics: On clear nights, Aragorn arranges secret picnics in a hidden garden, the soft glow of moonlight casting a romantic atmosphere over your intimate moments. He also manages to get all your favourite foods (other things), to make you happy. (Aragorn takes pride in blending herbal teas for you, each concoction carefully chosen for its calming properties and unique flavors.)

Quality Time: He treasures the moments you spend together, whether it's a quiet evening by the fire, exploring the city, or attending formal events.

Unexpected Surprises: He enjoys surprising you with small, thoughtful gifts or spontaneous adventures, keeping the spark of romance alive.

His Crown and Her Crown: Aragorn places a small, delicate crown made of wildflowers on your head during your private moments together, (also before an offical celebration etc.), a symbol of your shared sovereignty.

Heartfelt Vows: You would exchange heartfelt vows of eternal love and commitment, sealed with a kiss under the ancient White Tree of Gondor. (When you look at each other, there's a shared understanding that you are bound together for eternity, your love enduring through everything.) - Together, you create cherished traditions, marking significant moments in your relationship with meaning and love.

"When I look at you, I see the future of Gondor, and I am filled with hope for the days to come."

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middleearthpixie · 4 months

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Living Proof ~ Chapter Twenty-Three

Fandom: The Lord of the Rings (AU, Boromir lives)

Pairing: Boromir x ofc Kaia

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 3k

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Previous chapters can be found here.

Boromir let his fingers trail lightly along Kaia’s hair. “Where are you?”

“Right here,” she murmured, peering up at him. “Wishing the morning would never come.”

“You are not the only one.”

She rose onto one elbow. “I won’t sleep soundly until you return, you know.”

“It would be better if you tried,” he told her, trying to smile as he reached up to brush a loose curl behind her ear. “You need your rest and before you yell at me, just know, I am only concerned with your well being.”

To his relief, she smiled. “I know,” she told him, bobbing her head. “And I know it’s silly to worry, since that won’t change a blasted thing, but I’ll worry just the same.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

“I know.” Her eyes softened. “But, I will. I will worry every moment you’re gone and I will not sleep peacefully until you are back here, safe and sound.”

“Worrying about me will do nothing to help you rest at all.”

“I know, but I also have no control over it. Haven’t you realized that by now?”

He tried to smile, but couldn’t quite make his face obey. “If something should happen to me, you will remain here at least until the baby is born, won’t you? Faramir will be here to look after you both, if need be.”

She nodded. “Of course.”

“Good. At least then I know you’re safe. Ioreth will also look after you both for as long as you wish to remain here.”

She sighed softly, sinking back against him. Her hand came to rest against his chest, her head in the curve of his shoulder. “But, you will be careful, won’t you?”

“Love, I am never not careful.”

“You threw yourself between halflings and orcs.”

“I had to. You know that.”

She didn't reply at first, but then, with a soft sigh, she whispered, “ I do know that. You protect those you care about and I’ve not met your hobbits, but I’ve the feeling you most definitely cared about them.”

“I’d never seen halflings until that morning at Rivendell,” he told her, staring up at the rough ceiling, his fingers moving along her silky hair once more. “And I know they are grown men, all of them, but they are so small, it was difficult to remember that. I looked after them to the best of my ability, tried to teach them how to defend themselves. And they did, you know. At Amon Hen. Galadriel had given them daggers and they did not hesitate to use them.”

“They saw you were in trouble and something tells me that you meant to them what they meant to you.”

“They did not know what I’d done.”

“Boromir,” Kaia lifted her head once more, “they knew you were willing to sacrifice yourself for their safety. And I’ll wager that if Frodo knew that as well, he would forgive you in the blink of an eye.”

He gazed at her, his fingers moving lightly along her cheek now. She had no idea just how powerful her pull over him was, had no idea that all she need to was ask, and he would give her whatever her heart desires. He’d never felt about a woman the way he felt about her, none had ever touched him the way this one did.

The light glinted off the delicate ring on her left hand. He’d fought the notion of marriage for so long, convinced that Gondor and his duty to her came before anything else. And honestly, there had been no woman for whom he’d give up everything for.

Until Kaia.

If she asked, he would resign his commission, would find some other way of supporting her and the baby. But he knew that she would never ask, nor would she accept that from him. She loved him for who and what he was—warts and all—and he was a better man for it.

“You look a thousand leagues away,” she murmured, her hand curving against his cheek.

He managed a smile. “I am where I always will wish to be, here with you.”

“Oh, that is smooth.” A soft laugh bubbled to her lips. “But you know what I mean.”

“I do. And I…” He paused, then cleared his throat, “when I was lying in that clearing, all I could think was how I betrayed Frodo, betrayed all of them, although no oath bound us. I felt death was what I deserved and when I heard you, if I’d had the strength, I’d have told you to let me die.”

“You told me to leave you.”

“I did?” He had no memory of this.

She nodded. “You did. It pained you so terribly to move and I felt horrible about forcing you to do so, but the orcs were on their way back and if they’d found us, I’ve no doubt they’d have cut us both down, so I forced you to your feet and forced you to move.”

“I only remember bits and pieces of it.”

“That’s all right. I remember all of it and will lord it over you whenever I feel it would be to my advantage.”

A mischievous smile accompanied her words and the glint in her eye sent a zing through him, one that had him carefully rolling to pin her beneath him. “Is that so?” he murmured, his lips brushing hers.

“It is.”

He dipped to her, their lips meeting softly, her arms tightening about his neck. His blood warmed as her legs parted to accommodate his hips, as her heat beckoned him, drew him to her once more. There would never be a time when he’d have enough of her, a time when the feel of her beneath him wouldn’t stir his blood and fire his desire, and as his arousal grew, she whispered, “I love you,” and the words were as much a caress as her touch was.

He drew back to gaze down at her, murmuring, “I love you, too, Kaia. Always,” before dipping back to her once more.

****

Kaia woke before dawn, with Boromir softly snoring alongside her. She lay there, warm and cozy beneath the blankets, then carefully eased onto her side toward him. He slept peacefully now, but during the night, he’d woken her twice with his own restlessness. He talked in his sleep, but made no sense, and she wondered if he dreamed of what happened at Amon Hen, for he jerked away from her, as if being struck by arrows in his mind.

But now he was serene and calm, his breathing deep and even. If he dreamed, they were peaceful, for a hint of a smile played at his lips.

Now all she could do was hope he returned to Minas Tirith safe and sound and in one piece. The thought of losing him was more than she could bear, although she would keep those thoughts to herself. The last thing he needed was to be distracted by her worrying for him. He had a momentous enough task ahead of him. She would not add to his burden if she could possibly avoid it.

With that, she slipped from their bed, reaching for the warm midnight blue velvet dressing gown he’d draped across the foot of the bed last evening. She smiled as it settled about her shoulders, for it seemed so odd to her that a man like Boromir—a seasoned, hardened warrior—should own something that was almost delicate, as this finely sewn garment seemed. She’d said as much to him, only to have him offer up a boyish grin and a playful, “There are but many sides to me, you know. You simply have not seen them all yet.”

A hint of pine and snow rose from the fine fabric to tease her nose. Boromir’s scent. She would know it anywhere.

She padded from the bedchamber toward the great room, pausing only to ease her feet into her warm slippers, then continued on her way. The flat was cold, the hearth in the great room dark and quiet, so she gathered the heavy velvet about her legs to keep it from igniting, and set to work getting a fire started.

“What are you doing?”

She peered over her shoulder at Boromir in the doorway, clad in only the small clothes that brought such wicked thoughts to her mind, scratching absently at his chest. “It was freezing in here.”

“You should’ve woken me.”

“You’ve a long journey ahead of you, and probably won’t have much time for sleep, much less comfortable sleep,” she told him, turning back to strike flint against steel. “And I am perfectly capable of getting a fire started, you know.”

“Still…”

“No still.” The sparks caught and she smiled as a fire slowly crackled to life. Rising, she turned toward him. “Who do you think will do this whilst you’re gone?”

“I’ll make certain to have someone come up and tend to it.”

“You will do no such thing, Boromir. I am not helpless, you know.”

“I know.” He skirted the narrow sofa, pausing to sink onto the arm. “But, I’d rather you not wake up each morning to a freezing cold flat.”

“I’ll be fine.” She closed the space between them, draping her arms over his shoulders. “You were restless last eve.”

“Did I wake you?”

“Once,” she nodded, meeting his gaze. “A nightmare?”

He said nothing at first, but then slowly nodded. “It happens from time to time. I’m back in that clearing, and I know I am about to die and instead of being afraid for the hobbits, I’m afraid for you.”

“Me? But I was in no danger that day. No orcs saw me.”

“No, but sometimes it the one who happened upon you in your garden. Other times, you’re in the clearing right alongside me. It changes.”

“Perhaps once this is all over, the dreams will stop.”

“I certainly hope so. It’s exhausting at times, you know, trying to push through on almost no sleep.”

“I do know. In the weeks following the destruction of my village, I rarely slept a whole night through. I jumped at every sound, at every stick breaking and leaf crunching. Not even when I happened upon the cabin, did I sleep well at first. I was convinced they’d find me, but looking back, I highly doubt they searched for me. Once they’d moved on, they’d moved on.” She reached to curve her hand against his cheek. “And the nightmares will hopefully soon cease for you, as well.”

“I do hope so.” He pressed a kiss into the top of her head. “Are you certain you don't wish me to make certain someone comes up to tend the fires?”

She shook her head. “I’m positive. Besides,” she offered up a grin, “this gown is far warmer than I would never need.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “Is that so?”

“It is, indeed. It’s cozy and soft and it smells of you. I could just happily live in it.”

“Very well,” he pursed his lips as if thinking very hard about the subject. “I suppose I could leave it behind.”

“Leave it behind? Boromir, you know you had no intention of packing this. When I found you, you had but a single other pair of trousers and tunic and two pairs of socks and two pair of small clothes. You did not carry anything more and you know it.”

“Very well, you have me there. Velvet never suited me, to be honest.”

“So why do you have this?”

“It was a gift. From a…” he hesitated slightly, “friend.”

“It was someone who did not know you well then, for I would never give you anything sewn of velvet. Leather, wool, steel, perhaps,” she grinned at him, “but never velvet.”

“That is because you know me, Kaia. She did not.”

She leaned in to brush his lips with hers. His fingers tensed on her hips and when she drew back, he asked, “If my keeping the dressing gown troubles you, I have no qualms of tossing.”

“Why would it trouble me? It’s cozy and warm and it smells of you.” She straightened up, shaking her head. “It bothers me not how you came into it, if that’s what you think.”

“It—it doesn’t?”

“No. Why would it? It would be rather naive of me to believe you’ve known no other women before me, don't you think?”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“Of course you don’t.”

“I mean it,” he grinned up at her, “for there have been no women before you.”

“Liar.”

“What?”

She threaded her fingers through his hair, drawing it away from his face. “There is no way you haven’t known any other before me, for you are far too skilled for me to believe otherwise.”

“I thank you for the compliment,” he replied, tugging her close once more.

She wound her arms about his neck before settling against him. “I will miss you, you know. It will be odd, sleeping alone once again.”

“I’ve no doubt you will adjust and when I return, will not want to give up all that space.”

“Or I’ll be huge by then and there simply won’t be room for you.”

“How long do you think this will take me?” He smiled, letting one hand slide down along her lower stomach. “You haven’t even begun to show yet and already you need all of the room in our bed?”

Her eyes stung unexpectedly as she brought her hand to rest over his. “I’m trying to keep my spirits up, but I have to tell you, I’m not going to sleep soundly until you return. Not a wink.”

“You will,” he told her. “You lying awake, night after night, staring up at the ceiling and putting both you and the baby at risk does nothing to keep me safe, you know.”

“I know, but—”

“No but,” he interrupted gently, shaking his head. “You have something far more important to be concerned with, Kaia. And I know you neither want nor need me to tell you this, but it’s true.”

“I know that, but I’m also going to be worrying for you as well and you cannot change that.”

His thumb swept lightly in an arc along her lower stomach. “Take care of yourself first and foremost, love. Promise me you will.”

“Boromir, I—”

“Promise me, love. And mean it. Otherwise I will have Ioreth assign someone to come up here and watch over you.”

“You do, and I will never forgive you.”

“I will take my chances if it means you give us a healthy child.”

“You are being dramatic now, you know.”

“Just say yes, Kaia… please?”

A soft sigh bubbled to her lips. “Very well. I won’t worry about you at all. In fact, I’ll think of you so rarely that when you return, I wont have any idea who you are at all.”

He smiled and a low chuckle bubbled to his lips. “Good. Then I can win you all over again.”

“I love you, Boromir.”

He slid his hand back around to the small of her back and drew her up against him. Just before his lips met hers, he whispered, “I love you, too, Kaia.”

Kaia tried to ignore the way her throat tightened as she drew her cloak tighter about her shoulders and tucked her arm through Boromir’s to see him down to the stables on the lower level.

Four other men were already there and while she she did not recognize them, she had the feeling which one was who. Aragorn, the rightful king, Legolas the elf, Gimli the dwarf, and Éomer of Rohan, who so strongly resembled his sister she would have had to be blind or stupid to not know who he might be. All but Legolas looked scruffy and bedraggled, but the elf appeared not to have a bit of wear on him. His shimmering, almost white-blond hair was sleek in its ponytail, his face smooth and unlined and a total opposite to Aragorn, whose dark hair hung in strings about his shoulders and who was in dire need of shaving.

Gimli was the first dwarf she had ever seen and at first, she couldn't help but stare. He was half her height, his rust colored beard hanging almost to his knees and his equally red hair tumbled about his shoulders and partway down his wide back.

Her heart beat faster as Boromir turned to her. Swallowing hard, she met his gaze. “You will be careful, won’t you?”

“You know I will.” His eyes softened and his hands came to rest upon her hips. “And I will be back before you’ve even realized I’ve gone.”

“You’d better be.”

“I will.”

With that, Gandalf, and the two halflings, Merry and Pippin although she did not know which was which, arrived as well and the grooms move about to ready their horses. Time seemed to speed up as she caught Boromir’s face between her hands and said, “Be careful. We want you back here safe and sound and in one piece.”

“I will and I will.”

Her eyes stung, so she let them close as he brushed her lips with his and then whispered, “I love you.”

Her voice cracked as she tried to reply, so she cleared her throat and tried again. “I love you, too.”

He kissed her once more, then she stepped back to allow him room to pass by her to get to his own horse. Swallowing hard, she didn't move as they filed from the stables, the soft clop of the horses’ hooves fading into the distance and the silence that settled over her was heavier than any she had ever felt before.

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