B2MeM Challenge:"Textures" card, "Splintery" I-18
Format: Double Drabble
Genre: General
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Characters: Boromir
Pairings:N/A
Summary: Sometimes it's just too hard to wait.
He would have been better off to wait for a proper practice sword. It would have been made of pine, perhaps, smoothly sanded and stained. The hilt would have been properly fitted to his hand. It would have been presented to him at breakfast on his seventh birthday, with all due ceremony, his father beaming, his mother looking both proud and perhaps a bit sorrowful. He would have counted it as his first day as a warrior, albeit a warrior-in-training.
But, of course, he couldn't wait. Once he found those bits of lathe in a corner of a shed by the stables there was no stopping him. He convinced the blacksmith's apprentice to nail them together, and set out to do battle with the monkey-puzzle tree in his mother's garden.
It wasn't a moment before a long, jagged splinter was embedded in his hand. He stared at it, the blood welling out from his palm, dripping onto his breeches, his boot, the ground.
"It was the first time my blood was shed for Gondor," Boromir would laugh, later; but remembering, he always felt slightly sick at the shock of that discovery, that he could be hurt, that he could bleed.
Format: Double Drabble
Genre: General
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Characters: Boromir
Pairings:N/A
Summary: Sometimes it's just too hard to wait.
He would have been better off to wait for a proper practice sword. It would have been made of pine, perhaps, smoothly sanded and stained. The hilt would have been properly fitted to his hand. It would have been presented to him at breakfast on his seventh birthday, with all due ceremony, his father beaming, his mother looking both proud and perhaps a bit sorrowful. He would have counted it as his first day as a warrior, albeit a warrior-in-training.
But, of course, he couldn't wait. Once he found those bits of lathe in a corner of a shed by the stables there was no stopping him. He convinced the blacksmith's apprentice to nail them together, and set out to do battle with the monkey-puzzle tree in his mother's garden.
It wasn't a moment before a long, jagged splinter was embedded in his hand. He stared at it, the blood welling out from his palm, dripping onto his breeches, his boot, the ground.
"It was the first time my blood was shed for Gondor," Boromir would laugh, later; but remembering, he always felt slightly sick at the shock of that discovery, that he could be hurt, that he could bleed.
no subject
Date: 2012-03-01 01:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-03-01 01:49 am (UTC)