𝗺𝐢𝐳𝐩𝐚𝐡. (n.) the deep emotional bond between people, especially those separated by distance or death.
❝ after all those years, we were here, together. and i wanted to stay in this moment forever. ❞
in which a wanderer finds love with a boy f...
❝ the advice you give could make or break a person. don't waste it.❞
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I FOLLOWED Elrond, leaving Briareth to rest, and sat down in one of the chairs arranged around his seat in the courtyard.
Soon men, dwarves, and elves began to trickle in. First were the Mirkwood elves—Prince Legolas and his kin. Then the dwarves, from the seven kingdoms. And finally men—but there was one man in particular who caught my eye.
"Boromir!" I leapt from my seat to greet him, the elves shooting me furtive and surprised glances.
"Y/N?" His eyes widened when I reached him and he hugged me, lifting me in the air. I laughed, maybe the first genuine one in weeks. Finally he set me down and grinned. "Y/N, what are you doing here?"
"Lord Boromir. That is Gwathracû. She's dangerous." one of the men said uneasily. His hand was on his sword, a look of fear on his face.
I gave him a feral grin.
Boromir waved the man off with a quick "I know her" and sat down next to me at the Council. "Where have you been?" he asked quietly, that expression of surprise and joy still in his eyes. "We haven't seen you or your siblings at all recently."
My grin fading, I explained everything that had happened with Grima and Théoden. By the end he looked horrified.
"Saruman has done this?" he asked, his voice deadly cold. I nodded, my old flame of anger rekindling in me. "He's going to pay." I said softly. Boromir looked almost proud of me and was opening his mouth to say something when Elrond entered the courtyard and everyone fell silent.
"Strangers from distant lands, friends of old. You have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor." Elrond looked at all of us in turn. As he turned to me, I could see the barely concealed worry in his eyes before he composed himself and turned back to Frodo.
"Bring forth the Ring, Frodo."
Frodo rose slowly and placed the Ring on the pedestal in the middle of the courtyard before returning to his seat.
Next to me, Boromir seemed transfixed. "So it is true..." he murmured. "This is a gift. Why not use this Ring?" He stood up to talk.
"Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people are your lands kept safe! Give Gondor the weapon of the Enemy. Let us use it against him!"
I didn't like the way this conversation was going and spoke up. "Boromir, think! The Ring will corrupt you. You'll have no power."
"She is right." A voice started to speak. I looked over to see Strider, or Aragorn—a Ranger I had met through my travels. He continued. "You can't wield it! None of us can. The One Ring answers to Sauron alone."
