Of Dwarves and Men {Boromir/LOTR}

Chapter 26: Don't go breaking my harp

Chapter 26:

Don't go breaking my harp

Although parties are not typically my scene, the recognition and victory celebration following the battle of Helm's Deep sends my heart into a flutter. Upon arriving back in the untouched Edoras, I was sent directly into a guest chamber by Eowyn within the plan to get ready. And although I might have been resistant at first, at least in regards to adorning a dress, I am happy for the experience. Maybe it's the terror of our current times, or just the large mass of time spent together, but Eowyn and I become closer within the few hours together, laughing and chatting like old friends.

After bathing the warfare and travel away, Eowyn brushes through my typically unbrushable hair, leaving it glossy and strangely tame. Silver beads hang from my hair in a typical dwarven fashion, as a ruby lays between my collar bones, strung on a gold chain. It is a fight to stuff me into the pale-blue dress, stitched with golden thread, but I relent with the ability to wear pants underneath. And, as only natural, I wear no boots within my complete feeling of safety.

Chasing Eowyn out the door of the chamber and down the halls, hearing the music strumming from within the Golden Hall, we walk into a jolly and reflective sight. With the Rohirrim dressed in their best, accompanied by the common families, I almost don't see the rich delicacies stacked upon the large oaken table of the Hall. That is, I don't notice until I hear Gimli's shouting and drunken murmuring, with the Fellowship scattered within feet. Aragorn and Theoden chat amiably, in conjunction with Legolas and Gimli's bickering and Ruelin's humoured expression at this sight. Then there is my brother, dancing with the hobbits in their overjoyed and intoxicated state, while Boromir simply chuckles at their antics.

It is not long after that I notice Eowyn's disappearance from my side and make my way towards my family, catching their gaze in the process. Frerin's mouth drops at the vision of me wearing a dress, his eyes widening and eyebrows furrowed in extreme confusion. The others do not look nearly as shocked, just surprised that I am easily walking in such wardrobe. Then there is the greatest reaction: Boromir gaping almost like my brother, but in a more endearing fashion. I send all of them a smile, not quite making it to Frerin's side before the King of Rohan sends up a toast:

"Tonight we remember those who gave their blood to defend this country. Hail the victorious dead!" A cheer is sent up from the masses of Rohirrim, glasses in the air and few tears being spread. I hold a large smile, seeing as these people are taking joy, rather than pain, in the release of the mortal man to spiritual hands.

A large, yet soft, hand wraps around my upper arm, pushing me up and onto a table before I can even utter a scream. Gazing back down, I send the culprit, Aragorn, an anxious look, not understanding his intention before Frerin turns me around, standing at my side and handing me a violin. It is only then that I recognize the plan, rolling my eyes at the predictability of my brother, even in his tipsy state. A guitar rests solely in his hands, strung over his shoulder with Ruelin and Gimli sitting near my feet, preparing to clap and hum out the rhythm to the typical dwarven song.

Finally raising my eyes, I notice the attention of hundreds upon me and my brother, prompting a bright pink blush to rise on my cheeks. Sure, Frerin and I have performed the song on countless celebratory occasions, but that was for dwarves, not humans. And to only further my embarrassment, I catch the curious gaze of my One, the surrounding populace unable to break him from the trance. I send a small smile as Frerin strums the first few chords, breaking into song soon afterwards: