The ceremony was ending. Guards in their winged helms lined the staircase down which Elessar trod. Weeks of hard-fought negotiation had brought forth a compromise and the princely envoy at Elessar’s side wore a satisfied air. Boromir thought it paled beside the grave majesty of his King.
As they passed Boromir saw Aragorn’s shoulders shift beneath the weight of the robes; Gondor embodied in glittering thread on black damask over spotless, uncreased, linen.
He could see in his mind’s eye the Ranger’s leather coat, worn and patched; cherished because it did not draw the eye, but also because it was an old and comfortable friend.
He had done his utmost to ease Aragorn’s way, had the tailors take rasps to stiff, new, seams that they might not chafe. Now his pleasure would be to have Aragorn put some creases and sweat stains onto those snowy linens.
The robes would be laid, carefully wrapped and sprinkled over with cedar chips against the moth, in locked chests. Elessar in tunic and linen would bid goodnight to his servants and retire and there Aragorn would find his man a-waiting.
Boromir thought he might wear his old vambraces; give his love something to remove.
Summary: The trappings of state can weigh heavy…
Rated: PG-13
Categories: LOTR FPS Pairing: Aragorn/Boromir
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 205 Read: 804
Published: 10 Sep 2010 Updated: 10 Sep 2010
Story Notes:
DISCLAIMER: "These characters originate with their copyright holders. I borrow them for entertainment, not profit."