“I will not go. My place is here, with my people.” Boromir strode across the room to the stone window and gazed out on the white city. The sun was just rising, although it was hardly visible behind the gloom of Mordor.
“Your people are the reason you must!” Came the voice of Marion behind him. “Would you not take this chance to save everyone you love? The city will fall without the Ring!”
“So my Father tells me. And yet still my heart is full of doubt. What would I do, should the armies of Mordor advance on the city? What good would I be so far from home?.” He turned his back on the window and faced her. She had not moved from her place on his great bed, but now she sat up and watched him as he paced.
“Why should Faramir not go? The Council of Elders deemed him more worthy!”
“Damn the Council! You know as well as I do that your brother would fail at such a task. The road to Imladris is perilous. He has not your strength.”
“You do not give him credit he deserves.”
“How can you say that? He lost you Osgiliath and a hundred men and still you would defend him?” Anger was growing in her voice.
“Osgiliath was lost by my father’s command. The fault lies with him, not with Faramir. He fought as valiantly as any man. You know that,” Boromir stopped and looked at her accusingly. Her green eyes met his, and in them was an expression of desperation. He felt his resolve weaken.
When she spoke again her tone was softer. “I love your brother, Boromir, as if he were my own, but he cannot be trusted with such a task.”
“And do you not love me? Do you not want me here with you?” He started towards the bed again, and looked down on her. Her arm snaked out from under the great red and gold duvet, and reached up to him. She placed her hand softly on his cheek.
“I love you more than anything.”
“And it is truly your wish that I go to Rivendell? It is truly what you want?”
“I want the safety of our home.”
“Then I will go. Not for my father, but for you.” He took her hand from his cheek and laid a gentle kiss upon it.

***
An hour later the sun was high over the mountains to the east, and a bright light shone in through the white stone window. Boromir was pulling on his gear to go and tell his father his decision. Marion sat in the bed propped up on pillows, watching his movements with a small smile on her face.
“Perhaps you might stay, just a little longer…” she commented as he pulled his shirt over his bare chest.
“Don’t tell me that now, or I may never leave,” he said to her with a small glance in her direction. Her smile grew wider, and she climbed out of the great four poster, letting the blankets fall from her body. She stalked over to him as he strapped his sword to his side, taking his hand and pressing her lips into his palm.
“I’m going to miss you,” she whispered into his hand.
“I will return, Marion. I will return and I will bring with me that which holds the power to protect the entire kingdom. Gondor will be safe again.” He took her chin with his hand and brought her up so she faced him. She stood on her tiptoes and brushed her lips on his for a moment, then pulled him into a passionate embrace.
When at last they broke apart, Boromir turned and headed for the door to his chambers. Before he left, he nodded to her and waved a hand in farewell. She called out a few last words as the door closed behind him.
“Godspeed, my love.”

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