| Login | Lost Password | Help | Rules | | |

Most Recent

Reflections in Imladris by Starfox General Audiences
Companion Piece to Musings In The Night. Legolas arrives in Imladris.
The Black Arrow by ziggy General Audiences
Thranduil strikes a bargain with his fiery neighbour. Smaug is dead and Esgaroth is devastated. Legolas fights to sav his...
Forever is never that far away by mangacrack Teen
"It won't stop," Elrohir says one day, surrounded by a band of dead Orcs. "Why it won't stop?"
Holding up the Sky by mangacrack General Audiences
[Maedhros & Aragorn] The meeting of two wary souls, comforting each other.
The Lost Princess by Alpanu Teen
Your life path had been difficult. You do not have a family nor a place you could call "home". You consider yourself to be...
The Trespasser by Linda Hoyland General Audiences
A herb mistress has a fateful encounter with a stranger.
The song of tomorrow by Nuredhel Explicit
The past reaches out towards the future...A living mystery is being delivered to the king of Mirkwood as a gift and a strange...

Site Info

Members: 463
Series: 78
Stories: 1549
Chapters: 7888
Word count: 23423549
Authors: 134
Reviews: 13826
Reviewers: 212
Newest Member: Mithrial
Beta-reader: 29
Recommendations: 52
Recommenders: 13
Challenges: 14
Challengers: 9
 

Who's Online

Guests: 6
Members:

Shoutbox

Ysilme
03/30/17 01:32 am
I suppose they'd have a heart attack if I told them I'm writing fanfic in English these days. *g*
Ysilme
03/30/17 01:31 am
experience like you, Alpha, but with English: two English teachers told me I should try to get a job where I wouldn't need foreign languages as they judged me too little giftd in languages.
Ysilme
03/30/17 01:29 am
My father was a maths teacher, too, which wasn't always easy for me, *g* - my classmates considered it as uncool in a major way to be daugther of a maths teacher. And I made a similar
ziggy
03/28/17 11:13 pm
Wow- Naledi- you were Maths!! I am an English teacher and so agree. I am so careful - don't always get it right but try to make sure every interaction is positive.
Naledi
03/28/17 12:10 pm
I was a maths teacher too! A really soul-destroying job sometimes, because many children arrived at school already afraid of the subject.
Naledi
03/28/17 12:08 pm
It is sad how a bad teacher can make a child's time at school a misery. When I was teaching I was very conscious that even the most casual, throwaway comment could wound.
Alpha Ori
03/28/17 01:08 am
Love to meet him today and tell him I studied astronomy. Twit.
Alpha Ori
03/28/17 01:07 am
I still remember my maths teacher. Pasty faced and smelled of onions. I was traumatised, especially when he told my parents the only thing I was good at was sports.
Spiced Wine
03/24/17 02:30 pm
Most of my teachers were lovely - there were just a couple that were not nice.
ziggy
03/22/17 11:06 pm
I hate hearing about teachers who ruined a child's interest or confidence or curiosity- as a teacher myself, it actually hurts to think how someone has done that. It doesn't happen much now.
Shout Archive


Boromir in Wonderland... or Imladris! by curiouswombat

[Reviews - 3]   Printer
Table of Contents

- Text Size +
Story notes:

Poor Boromir - he really isn't sure what to make of Imladris or, more importantly, of elves.

Written as a set of Drabbles for Tolkien Weekly.


Statuary


It had taken so long to get here, seeking an answer to his riddle, and now he was cooling his heels and waiting for… who knew what.

But, in honesty, Boromir was enjoying the peace and the… slightly rustic… charm of Rivendell.

The gardens were beautiful – especially the statues. He gazed in admiration at a life-sized male figure set under a waterfall, the head thrown back, eyes half closed; in the moonlight the alabaster almost glowed.

Next morning he was surprised to find the statue gone.

At lunch time he was introduced to Legolas and could not hide his blush.

 

Eye-catching

He tried to avoid the wood elf; hopefully he would soon return to… wherever he came from. Goodness knows what he might think had he noticed Boromir admiring his moonlit body!

He was unsure of this, newly-arrived, man but felt it safer to sit with him at dinner.

Rivendell might be somewhat rustic, but the same could not be said of at least one of its inhabitants. The female was the most beautiful being he had ever seen, and he preened in the candlelight as she kept glancing his way. Until he realised her eyes were seeking his dinner companion.

 

Come Into The Garden Maude... em... Boromir...

This female elf was definitely flirting with him, Boromir had no doubts. She looked at him with face tip-tilted, glancing sideways through half-closed eyes; her fingers brushed his arm too often.

“Do come out into the gardens,” she said, smiling, “they are even more beautiful when the lamps are lit than by daylight.”

Boromir knew… he had seen them that way before; but he recognised that she offered more than a simple promenade.

As they left he looked around, hopefully, for Legolas; surely, if he noticed Boromir’s current companion, it would quash any misconceptions harboured since that earlier lamp-lit stroll…

 

Reality Check

Sometimes Boromir wondered what was real. Would he awake in his bed in the Citadel, to find that naked elves in waterfalls, ancient prophecies, and blindingly beautiful women all dissolved in the light of day, as he shook the ale-induced clouds from his head?

Or was Minas Tirith itself a figment of his imagination? Was this valley of trees, waterfalls and strange, unearthly, encounters the only reality?

Outside was twilight grey; flickering firelight illuminated a figure from childhood tales. Surely this was the dream?

A hand shook him, gently.

“You were almost asleep. More tea perhaps? Some cake?” asked Bilbo.

Restless

Even though he knew it would annoy the only other man here, Boromir sat to talk when he found Elrond’s daughter alone one afternoon.

“I hear them call you Undómiel,” he said, “the Evening Star…”

“I am the last born of my family,” she answered, “And last born in this place. These years are the twilight of our people; the twilight of the Age of Elves.”

Boromir pondered her words and chose to say not what came to his mind.

‘This will be the twilight of my people also, if I wait in this enchanted place, unmoving, for much longer.’

 

In the Light of Memory

Soon they would leave. But first, Gandalf had explained, they would celebrate the Solstice according to the traditions of both Rivendell and the hobbits.

Both traditions required a night of feasting and song; but as dusk fell there would first be an Elven ceremony. All looked skyward until a voice cried out “First star!” and a song arose to Elbereth, star-kindler.

Then, in Boromir’s memory, there came a different voice, a different song –

“Star light, star bright,
First star I see tonight…”

And with a lump in his throat he recalled that his mother’s family had, reputedly, had elven blood.

 

Each in His Own Way...

It was the last evening in Rivendell.

Boromir looked out at the gardens, lit by those pale Elven lanterns, glad that he would soon be home in the warmer torchlight of the Citadel courtyard.

Legolas approached him. “Mithrandir is with the hobbits, Aragorn is… saying a farewell, and the dwarf is already abed,” he said. “Would you join me in one last walk among the trees and pools before we need be always on our guard?”

Remembering that first encounter, Boromir still feared the elf might have the wrong impression.

“No,” he said firmly, “I am away to bed. Alone.”

 

The Road to Reality

The knock on the door awoke him in darkness; the sun was a sluggard so far north and so soon after midwinter.

Breakfast was over before the sky began to streak with light and the moon remained, a pale waif, to see them shoulder packs and say their last goodbyes.

When they reached the turn in the path Boromir looked back where lanterns yet showed as pricks of light outlining what Gandalf called the Last Homely House.

‘But not my home,’ he thought. ‘May my journey to this strange place not have been in vain, may I bring hope to Gondor…’

 

Clearing the Air

It was good to be under way; the last few days had passed slowly.

‘This was doubtless not what Father had in mind,’ he thought, ‘when he sent me to Rivendell – to leave, with such odd companions, on such an errand. But if it will aid us to defeat the enemy, help our people live without the shadow, then Father would surely approve…’

Sunlight glinting on sword-hilt brought his mind to its bearer.

‘We will do better’, he decided, ‘without distrust. Tonight I will clear the air and ask why he avoids me.’

Mind made up, Legolas considered his approach…

Chapter end notes:

I blame it all on Azalais - she suggested an elf in a fountain....

You must login () to review.