Characters: Éomer, Théodred, vaguely implied Théodred/Boromir if you know me. :)
Warning: Oh, the angst!
Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.
Théodred sees his cousin leading a familiar horse toward the stables, and smiles in surprise. “Éomer!” he calls. “Boromir is already at the bathhouse, I expect?”
Éomer stops, and there is uncharacteristic hesitancy in his young cousin’s posture. “Éomer?” Unease touches Théodred’s spine. “Is this not the horse we lent hm?”
Éomer meets Théodred’s gaze;Théodred’s stomach lurches at the trepidation in the younger man’s eyes. “Yes,” Éomer admits slowly, “this is the horse we lent Lord Boromir.”
Théodred’s chest has tightened so that he can hardly speak the question. “Where is Boromir?”
The expression on Éomer’s face is answer enough.