Characters: Boromir, OFC
Source: Pre-Ring War
Disclaimer: Tolkien's characters and places, Kortirion's imagined incident
Just a foot further, he nearly had it… just a smidgeon…
The ornate trophy of arms tumbled off the wall, rebounded off the ancient leather trunk beneath it, landing with a reverberating clang that echoed through the hall. Boromir froze.
He clung to the wall-hanging he’d twisted and climbed up, not daring to move… until he heard the un-nerving sound of linen threads ripping under the strain of a ten-year old boy’s weight…
Dust and frayed portraits of ancient kings enveloped him as he fell – bouncing off the trunk with enough force to knock the breath out of him.
“You little yrrch! You could have broken your neck!”
Melleth was, of course, not far away. Boromir groaned – partly from discovery of his mischief, partly from the linen mounded on his chest. He coughed, squirming free as his guardian hauled the tapestry aside.
With a face of thunder she confronted him.
“What the **** were you doing?”
He sniffed, pawing dust from his dirty face.
“I just wanted a better look at the swords...”
To his surprise, she burst out laughing.
“And playing spiders seemed a good idea?”
Steps pounded towards them.
“We’d better leave!” she said, hauling him away.