moldava: (Boromir_tongue by Elvenfair)
moldava ([personal profile] moldava) wrote2005-03-31 09:03 pm
Entry tags:

Microficlet

The Boromir that lives inside my head (a very crowded, cluttered place I assure you) was feeling talkative this morning.

So here's this and here's lots and lots of birthday wishes for




Sweet

Sweet he’s called him, and no one’s ever called him sweet before.
Not Faramir.. Not his women.. And most certainly not the faceless, nameless men he’s turned to for quick relief along the warrior’s path.

But this is different, isn’t it?

It’s been different from the very beginning, from the first moment their eyes connected through the dusty shadows of that elven hall.

But just how different it could be – it is - he realizes only later, only now when the ranger-king rests his bearded cheek on the damp, matted curls at Boromir’s groin and whispers the word, his breath a warm caress against the now-limp cock.

Can he really be that?

Sweet…

Boromir opens his eyes, though it makes no difference as the night is starless and dark as pitch.

He’s not sweet, he’s never been sweet, but just the knowledge that Aragorn thinks him such is sweet in itself.

It does not make him feel sweet, but it does make him feel as if things were possible, all kind of things, and being sweet is just one of them.

[identity profile] zasjah.livejournal.com 2005-03-31 09:22 pm (UTC)(link)
That is just lovely.
Boromir lowering his defenses and letting in all the thoughts and feelings that he has had to push away all his life, because he was a leader of men, a strong warrior, because it was expected of him.

Thank you for sharing this ficlet.

[identity profile] moldava.livejournal.com 2005-04-02 02:09 pm (UTC)(link)
Thank you for your comment :)
I love the idea of Boromir putting down his shield and behaving like this *g*