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His brother (G) Print

Written by Afra Schatz

13 October 2008 | 606 words

Title: His brother
Fandom: LotR FPS, Boromir and Faramir
Rating: gen
Warnings: Hardcore fluff ;)
A/N: A sorta companion piece to the Baby!Faraboro drawing. And you thought I couldn’t get any mushier. Ha! – Written for amygirl

Some of Boromir’s friends had baby brothers. Sometimes they had to bring them along to where they were playing, casing out the backyards or exploring the woods, and Boromir would roll his eyes then. Because toddlers slowed you down when you were in a hurry to pass the dark alleyways, stood around uselessly when you needed to climb trees and couldn’t even hold a wooden sword, let alone wield it properly, even though they had whined and pouted in order to get their little clumsy hands on one. To be honest, Boromir had seriously contemplated to surround himself solely with only children because of all that.

So when his mother had told him he would have a baby brother in a bit of time Boromir had put on his most diplomatic expression and politely asked if he couldn’t rather have a pony instead. His mother had laughed and ruffled his hair and said he would get a pony and a little brother. Really, Boromir didn’t understand the logic of adults.

The pony had arrived first and so Boromir had been out, patrolling in the woods on the back of his black companion, when the baby had come. Boromir had run into his father in the stables and there had been a huge smile on Denethor’s face. He had picked him up and Boromir wasn’t sure whether big boys were supposed to be carried around on their dad’s arm and even enjoy it. Thinking about that he only belatedly noticed that Denethor had taken him to his mother’s chamber. Boromir had been about to ask Finduilas why she had felt so tired that she’d laid down in her bed to sleep in the middle of a day when he saw a tiny baby resting in her arms.

‘This is your brother,’ said his mother and she, too, smiled so strangely that Boromir wanted to run back to the stables and ride back into the woods only return when she would smile exclusively at him like that again. His father, in whose arms he still was, looked at him and his big thumb smoothened Boromir’s furrowed brows before he sat him down.

‘Say hello to Faramir’, he said and because he gently pushed Boromir’s shoulder Boromir did as he was told.

Hesistantly he climbed onto the bed in the middle of which his mother sat with the baby and tentatively leaned over the tiny human in her arms. The little boy had been sleeping but the commotion had awoken him and he opened his eyes.

Boromir gasped quietly and in surprise pulled back a little. Green they were, his eyes, just like Boromir’s own. And when Boromir looked closer it was like looking into a mirror, even more than that. It was like Boromir had known Faramir longer than his oldest friend, like he’d known him since he himself had been born and even before that maybe.

He wanted to look at his mother questioningly but couldn’t bring himself to break their eyelock, couldn’t bring himself to speak either. Faramir tilted his head and both hands that he had held close to his mouth reached up to grasp Boromir’s face. Boromir felt his tiny fingers, wet with warm baby spit, digging into his cheeks with unexpected strength and let himself be pulled down. The tip of his nose nudged Faramir’s little button of a nose.

‘Welcome, little brother,” Boromir whispered.

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The following people read the story, enjoyed it, and would like to thank the author: Phytha , dk , wingy , halszka , , Mel

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3 Comment(s)

NB: Comments may contain spoilers!

awwwwwwwwwwwwww!! Nicely done!

— enkemeniel    20 October 2008, 23:38    #

Awwww, very nicely done! I like the big-boy mentality, and the very serious ‘can I have a pony instead?’ bit just tickled me pink. It’s so like a little boy to say that.

— wingy    22 October 2008, 03:47    #

Really cute and sweet.

— isileth    20 September 2009, 09:19    #

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About the Author

Afra Schatz

This author also has artwork archived at this site. For more of her work, also see her LiveJournal.


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