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Jul. 27th, 2003 06:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
claudia603This is just a little vignette I started weeks and weeks ago and since I'm in my mode of trying to tie up loose ends, wherever they be, here it is...
Title: Heavy Burden 1/1
Author: Claudia
Rating: G
Summary: Boromir tries to comfort Frodo after Moria.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and make no money from them.
Story Notes: A fill-in from the extended version of FOTR (movie).
Heavy Burden
“You carry a heavy burden, Frodo Baggins – do not carry the weight of the dead.”
The hobbit lifted his eyes, and the agony in their deep blue depths was a knife in Boromir’s chest.
When it came to caring for the Ringbearer, Aragorn was normally the perceptive one of the Men; he was quick to notice when Frodo needed an extra blanket at night or when the foul wound of the Enemy in his shoulder pained him or when he needed to slow the pace of the company for him. Frodo never asked for extra care and in fact Aragorn’s special care sometimes irked him.
Aragorn now spoke with the elves, desperate to gain them entry into this cursed Elvish land. Boromir had an uneasy feeling about it. Since they had reached the woods of Lorien, Boromir had the disconcerting sensation of his very heart being read and judged. He did not like it. He was a Man of Gondor, pure and true, and he had done nothing of shame, nothing for which he should be judged.
Now he focused again on Frodo, who hugged his knees to his chest and looked around him with such despair. Boromir yearned to relieve this little one of his burden. Hobbits were not meant for hardship. Frodo trembled and pulled his cloak tightly around him.
Boromir crawled to him. His huge hand trembled with hesitation only a moment before he pulled the hobbit into a tight embrace. Frodo’s head flopped against Boromir’s chest in weary acquiescence, and Boromir felt the vibration of the hobbit’s violent trembling. The Bridge of Khazaddum had been a grave blow to Frodo’s heart.
“I cannot continue,” he said weakly, clutching Boromir’s tunic. “Not without Gandalf.”
“You can,” Boromir said. He covered Frodo’s small fist with his calloused warrior’s hand. “I still marvel at your strength.”
“He was my strength,” Frodo said. His eyes were dry and dull.
“There is still strength left in the world.” Boromir said. “Much light amidst the dark. My city still stands, and her towers are proud and fair.”
“Tell me more,” Frodo murmured.
Boromir rubbed Frodo’s arms and back in an attempt to warm the hobbit, and spoke in a low voice, tinged with pride and love. He spoke of the Tower of Echthelian, its banners proud, fluttering in the wind…of the Anduin winding past the city like a proud snake…of trumpets that called home the lords of Gondor.
At last, Boromir was rewarded by calm under his hands.
“Thank you,” Frodo whispered, his lids heavy with coming sleep.
“Rest then, Frodo,” Boromir said gently.
END
Title: Heavy Burden 1/1
Author: Claudia
Rating: G
Summary: Boromir tries to comfort Frodo after Moria.
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters and make no money from them.
Story Notes: A fill-in from the extended version of FOTR (movie).
Heavy Burden
“You carry a heavy burden, Frodo Baggins – do not carry the weight of the dead.”
The hobbit lifted his eyes, and the agony in their deep blue depths was a knife in Boromir’s chest.
When it came to caring for the Ringbearer, Aragorn was normally the perceptive one of the Men; he was quick to notice when Frodo needed an extra blanket at night or when the foul wound of the Enemy in his shoulder pained him or when he needed to slow the pace of the company for him. Frodo never asked for extra care and in fact Aragorn’s special care sometimes irked him.
Aragorn now spoke with the elves, desperate to gain them entry into this cursed Elvish land. Boromir had an uneasy feeling about it. Since they had reached the woods of Lorien, Boromir had the disconcerting sensation of his very heart being read and judged. He did not like it. He was a Man of Gondor, pure and true, and he had done nothing of shame, nothing for which he should be judged.
Now he focused again on Frodo, who hugged his knees to his chest and looked around him with such despair. Boromir yearned to relieve this little one of his burden. Hobbits were not meant for hardship. Frodo trembled and pulled his cloak tightly around him.
Boromir crawled to him. His huge hand trembled with hesitation only a moment before he pulled the hobbit into a tight embrace. Frodo’s head flopped against Boromir’s chest in weary acquiescence, and Boromir felt the vibration of the hobbit’s violent trembling. The Bridge of Khazaddum had been a grave blow to Frodo’s heart.
“I cannot continue,” he said weakly, clutching Boromir’s tunic. “Not without Gandalf.”
“You can,” Boromir said. He covered Frodo’s small fist with his calloused warrior’s hand. “I still marvel at your strength.”
“He was my strength,” Frodo said. His eyes were dry and dull.
“There is still strength left in the world.” Boromir said. “Much light amidst the dark. My city still stands, and her towers are proud and fair.”
“Tell me more,” Frodo murmured.
Boromir rubbed Frodo’s arms and back in an attempt to warm the hobbit, and spoke in a low voice, tinged with pride and love. He spoke of the Tower of Echthelian, its banners proud, fluttering in the wind…of the Anduin winding past the city like a proud snake…of trumpets that called home the lords of Gondor.
At last, Boromir was rewarded by calm under his hands.
“Thank you,” Frodo whispered, his lids heavy with coming sleep.
“Rest then, Frodo,” Boromir said gently.
END