Warrior Son, Part 6/?
Mar. 18th, 2015 03:41 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
morgynleriWarrior Son
Part 6/?
Word Count: 1208 (7181)
Boromir makes sure Bilbo is ensconced in his chair before he leaves trying to talk the hobbit into going to Gandalf, seeking out Thorin and Balin instead. Silent for a long moment before he shifts to take a knee, both to avoid looming over them and for respect for Thorin.
"I would offer my sword and skill in aid of your quest, if you would have me. I have no home to return to, nor oaths to conflict with this offer, and neither do I ask for reward in as great a measure as you have offered Mr. Baggins, and alike the rest of your Company."
His bonds were broken with his death, perhaps, and even were they not, Gondor does not need him yet. His father will be no more than a child, as will be Aragorn, and Sauron will not yet reside in Mordor. The greatest threats to the world are the dragon in Erebor, and one small Ring hidden under the Misty Mountains. Both of which he will do his best to counter.
Thorin studies Boromir for a long moment before he speaks. “Why do you care, son of Gondor, what happens to a band of dwarves?”
He could tell Thorin the truth, that he grew up hearing the story of the reclaiming of Erebor from Bofur, and wished fiercely to follow him as a child. That he had fallen defending his friends from overwhelming foes, and bitterly regretted not acknowledging Aragorn as King sooner. Could say he would not be born for another thirty years and more, and that what will happen upon this journey will begin the final years of the Age.
"If I care not for the fate of others, I am no true son of Gondor. We may be the bulwark against Mordor, and any rise of the Enemy there, but what use is defending the walls if there is rot at the heart? I cannot stand by and watch another fall - to shadow or to dragon-fire or slow decay - and still call myself a defender of the West."
There’s silence again a moment before Thorin smiles, nodding to Boromir. “Then welcome to my Company, Boromir of Gondor.”
"We do not have a contract for a fifteenth member of the Company." Balin is frowning slightly. "I will have to revise the others slightly to account for Boromir’s inclusion."
"If I might, Master Balin, I would not wish so great a share of treasure that was not ever mine or of my people. A simple fee will suffice for myself, enough to take me where I will afterward." Boromir shifts his weight so he can stand once more, leaning against the wall with his head bowed by the curve of the ceiling. "A single chest of gold, no more than my pack-pony can carry beyond supplies, provided a successful outcome to the journey."
"That will certainly be a simpler matter than the re-division of the treasure." Balin studies Boromir for a long moment, a considering expression on his face. "I can have a contract ready before we arrive in Bree, though I will need a day once it is drafted to make out a clean copy."
"Do so." Thorin nods his acceptance of the terms that Boromir would rather, though Boromir expects there will be close inspection of the contract before either of them puts their name to it. It is enough for Boromir that there is verbal agreement for now.
There is nothing more that needs discussing now, when they’ve not the parchment at hand to work on a contract, and Boromir moves away, finding a place to sit where he can listen to Bilbo and Gandalf. The conversation sounds not to be going well for Gandalf, and Boromir watches as Bilbo walks away from the offer of adventure, to see the world of his books himself, rather than ever living through others.
"It appears we have lost our burglar." Balin’s voice comes from where he and Thorin had been earlier, resigned, if not terribly sad. "Probably for the best. The odds were always against us. After all, what are we? Merchants, miners. Tinkers, toymakers. Hardly the stuff of legend."
Boromir knows they will become legend and more, though he dares not say it.
"There are a few warriors amongst us." Thorin sounds more confident, and Boromir curls his lips in a smile. "And perhaps a little more hope and luck than we imagine."
"Old warriors or untried."
"I would take each and every one of these dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills. For when I called upon them, they answered." Boromir can hear Thorin shift. "Loyalty. Honor. A willing heart. I can ask for no more than that." There is a moment’s pause. "I would even take the Man of Gondor beside them, though I know him less than those dwarves who follow me, for he offered what few of his kind would bother."
That Balin still tries to talk Thorin from this journey makes Boromir frown, wondering why such a loyal dwarf - and that he remembers well from the tales - would ask such a thing of Thorin. It does nothing to change Thorin’s resolve, from the answer given, but it is a curiosity that Boromir knows he will over in his mind for a while that evening, even as he hears Balin promise they will see it done.
"You know more than you have told them, Boromir of Gondor." Gandalf is closer than Boromir had thought, and he looks over at the wizard, raising an eyebrow.
"What I have not said is not for you to ask after, Mithrandir." Boromir shakes his head, getting up to move again. "And I will tell those whom I must when I find it needful."
He remains until the dwarves begin to gather themselves to leave - there isn’t enough room for them all to remain in Bag End - and takes his own leave of Bilbo.
"Do you intend to come back through the Shire?" Bilbo walks with him from the door to the gate, though it is late enough for most hobbits to be awake.
"Perhaps, some day, though I don’t know how long that might be." Boromir pauses at the gate, smiling at Bilbo. "I shall visit, if I do, so long as I am welcome."
Bilbo’s smile is a little distracted, but he nods, and bids Boromir goodnight, and the dwarves who are leaving to take rooms at the Green Dragon.
They’re only just out of earshot of Bag End when Nori, with his memorable hair, sidles closer. “Care to wager on the hobbit changing his mind in the morning?”
Glancing down, Boromir contemplates the idea a moment, though he has little coin to spare for wagers. Extra would not be unwelcome, but to wager on Bilbo’s decisions? He doesn’t recall that being part of the tales, though it is a detail he could readily have forgotten. Too little at stake for his child’s mind to remember.
Fishing out his remaining silver from the pouch under his tunic, Boromir smiles a moment. “Bilbo will come. Late, perhaps, but he will come.”
If Bilbo doesn’t come, there will be greater problems than a pouch of silver lost.
Part 6/?
Word Count: 1208 (7181)
Boromir makes sure Bilbo is ensconced in his chair before he leaves trying to talk the hobbit into going to Gandalf, seeking out Thorin and Balin instead. Silent for a long moment before he shifts to take a knee, both to avoid looming over them and for respect for Thorin.
"I would offer my sword and skill in aid of your quest, if you would have me. I have no home to return to, nor oaths to conflict with this offer, and neither do I ask for reward in as great a measure as you have offered Mr. Baggins, and alike the rest of your Company."
His bonds were broken with his death, perhaps, and even were they not, Gondor does not need him yet. His father will be no more than a child, as will be Aragorn, and Sauron will not yet reside in Mordor. The greatest threats to the world are the dragon in Erebor, and one small Ring hidden under the Misty Mountains. Both of which he will do his best to counter.
Thorin studies Boromir for a long moment before he speaks. “Why do you care, son of Gondor, what happens to a band of dwarves?”
He could tell Thorin the truth, that he grew up hearing the story of the reclaiming of Erebor from Bofur, and wished fiercely to follow him as a child. That he had fallen defending his friends from overwhelming foes, and bitterly regretted not acknowledging Aragorn as King sooner. Could say he would not be born for another thirty years and more, and that what will happen upon this journey will begin the final years of the Age.
"If I care not for the fate of others, I am no true son of Gondor. We may be the bulwark against Mordor, and any rise of the Enemy there, but what use is defending the walls if there is rot at the heart? I cannot stand by and watch another fall - to shadow or to dragon-fire or slow decay - and still call myself a defender of the West."
There’s silence again a moment before Thorin smiles, nodding to Boromir. “Then welcome to my Company, Boromir of Gondor.”
"We do not have a contract for a fifteenth member of the Company." Balin is frowning slightly. "I will have to revise the others slightly to account for Boromir’s inclusion."
"If I might, Master Balin, I would not wish so great a share of treasure that was not ever mine or of my people. A simple fee will suffice for myself, enough to take me where I will afterward." Boromir shifts his weight so he can stand once more, leaning against the wall with his head bowed by the curve of the ceiling. "A single chest of gold, no more than my pack-pony can carry beyond supplies, provided a successful outcome to the journey."
"That will certainly be a simpler matter than the re-division of the treasure." Balin studies Boromir for a long moment, a considering expression on his face. "I can have a contract ready before we arrive in Bree, though I will need a day once it is drafted to make out a clean copy."
"Do so." Thorin nods his acceptance of the terms that Boromir would rather, though Boromir expects there will be close inspection of the contract before either of them puts their name to it. It is enough for Boromir that there is verbal agreement for now.
There is nothing more that needs discussing now, when they’ve not the parchment at hand to work on a contract, and Boromir moves away, finding a place to sit where he can listen to Bilbo and Gandalf. The conversation sounds not to be going well for Gandalf, and Boromir watches as Bilbo walks away from the offer of adventure, to see the world of his books himself, rather than ever living through others.
"It appears we have lost our burglar." Balin’s voice comes from where he and Thorin had been earlier, resigned, if not terribly sad. "Probably for the best. The odds were always against us. After all, what are we? Merchants, miners. Tinkers, toymakers. Hardly the stuff of legend."
Boromir knows they will become legend and more, though he dares not say it.
"There are a few warriors amongst us." Thorin sounds more confident, and Boromir curls his lips in a smile. "And perhaps a little more hope and luck than we imagine."
"Old warriors or untried."
"I would take each and every one of these dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills. For when I called upon them, they answered." Boromir can hear Thorin shift. "Loyalty. Honor. A willing heart. I can ask for no more than that." There is a moment’s pause. "I would even take the Man of Gondor beside them, though I know him less than those dwarves who follow me, for he offered what few of his kind would bother."
That Balin still tries to talk Thorin from this journey makes Boromir frown, wondering why such a loyal dwarf - and that he remembers well from the tales - would ask such a thing of Thorin. It does nothing to change Thorin’s resolve, from the answer given, but it is a curiosity that Boromir knows he will over in his mind for a while that evening, even as he hears Balin promise they will see it done.
"You know more than you have told them, Boromir of Gondor." Gandalf is closer than Boromir had thought, and he looks over at the wizard, raising an eyebrow.
"What I have not said is not for you to ask after, Mithrandir." Boromir shakes his head, getting up to move again. "And I will tell those whom I must when I find it needful."
He remains until the dwarves begin to gather themselves to leave - there isn’t enough room for them all to remain in Bag End - and takes his own leave of Bilbo.
"Do you intend to come back through the Shire?" Bilbo walks with him from the door to the gate, though it is late enough for most hobbits to be awake.
"Perhaps, some day, though I don’t know how long that might be." Boromir pauses at the gate, smiling at Bilbo. "I shall visit, if I do, so long as I am welcome."
Bilbo’s smile is a little distracted, but he nods, and bids Boromir goodnight, and the dwarves who are leaving to take rooms at the Green Dragon.
They’re only just out of earshot of Bag End when Nori, with his memorable hair, sidles closer. “Care to wager on the hobbit changing his mind in the morning?”
Glancing down, Boromir contemplates the idea a moment, though he has little coin to spare for wagers. Extra would not be unwelcome, but to wager on Bilbo’s decisions? He doesn’t recall that being part of the tales, though it is a detail he could readily have forgotten. Too little at stake for his child’s mind to remember.
Fishing out his remaining silver from the pouch under his tunic, Boromir smiles a moment. “Bilbo will come. Late, perhaps, but he will come.”
If Bilbo doesn’t come, there will be greater problems than a pouch of silver lost.