Title: Keeping Heart: The Lost Tale of Boromir

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Lord of the Rings. They belong to J.K. Rowling and J.R.R. Tolkien, respectively.


Chapter 4: Revelations

Minas Tirith, Kingdom of Gondor
th of June, T.A. 3010

"Harry?" Boromir asked softly as his love burst into the room, tears streaming from those beautiful green eyes. "What is the matter?"

Harry sniffled, wiping the tears from his cheeks and turning to face him.

"I…nothing…" the beauty replied. "Just…nothing…"

"Nothing would not make you cry like this," Boromir pointed out, gently wiping the tears from that smooth skin. "What happened?"

"My…my aunt…" Harry admitted softly. "I went to the servants' quarters, and she just…"

"Shh…" the steward-prince soothed, pulling Harry into a strong embrace. "Do you wish to tell me what she did?"

"I…my mother died in childbirth," Harry stated sadly. "She managed to give me a name before she bled out. And I do not…I do not know who my father is. My aunt will never let me live it down that I am a bastard, and that she was stuck with me because my mother was a…a whore."

Boromir pushed down his rage at the pain in his love's voice.

"Do not listen to her," the larger Man instructed softly, brushing black silky hair back from that beautiful face.

"Will you…will you share me with others?" Harry questioned softly.

Boromir's hands clenched into fists.

She would be gone by dinner.

"I love you," he swore softly, not letting Harry see his anger. "And I will never let another touch you."

"I…I am a freak," Harry stated sadly, not meeting his eyes.

"Harry, look at me," Boromir instructed, raising those beautiful green eyes to meet his own. "You are not a freak. Do not listen to a word that vile woman ever said to you. She is just jealous of what a beautiful person you are, both inside and out."

Harry gave him a hesitant smile.

Boromir smiled back, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to Harry's forehead.

"Now, do you wish to see your new room?" he asked softly.

Harry nodded hesitantly, and Boromir led him to the chambers adjacent to his own room.

The steward-prince left his love to get settled, and then he walked towards the servants' quarters.

That vile woman would get what was coming to her…


Petunia was straightening up her small room when someone began banging on her door.

"Hold on, hold on," she screeched. "What is the rush…"

The woman trailed off and paled as she came face-to-face with the Steward-Prince of Gondor.

"Excuse me," Boromir stated politely. "May I come in? I do not think you wish the other servants to hear what I am going to say to you…"

Petunia moved to the side, blankly staring as the second most powerful Man in the kingdom strode into her room.

"I…" she trailed off, uncertainly. "Would you like a seat?"

Boromir sneered at her.

"I would like to know what you were thinking when you told Harry that he was a freak and a bastard and that his mother was a whore," he questioned angrily.

"I…" Petunia scrambled for words, knowing that this Man could cast her out if he so wished. "I…"

"You…what?" Boromir mocked. "You were gifted with taking care of the most beautiful being I have ever laid eyes upon, and you decided to hurt him?"

The woman gulped audibly at the anger in the steward-prince's voice and countenance.

"My sister was a whore," she replied. "She was very beautiful, and the nobles took care of her as long as she laid with them."

Boromir glared at her fiercely.

"So you punished Harry because his mother was beautiful and did not have to work as a servant?" he asked harshly.

"He is unnatural!" Petunia screeched, her anger pouring out. "A bastard child, unnatural and...freakish. I knew it was just a matter of time before he became a whore as well. The boy is just fated to follow in his mother's footsteps."

Boromir pulled his punch at the last minute, his fist just a breath away from that ugly, shrewish face.

"You dare…" he panted, dropping his arm stiffly. "You dare…"

"He is unnatural…" Petunia whimpered fearfully. "Have you not seen?"

"Seen what?" Boromir demanded.

"His deformity," the woman stated softly. "Every time I used to have to change him as an infant…"

She trailed off and shuddered in disgust.

"What are you talking about?" Boromir asked harshly.

"He…he is both," Petunia replied. "The healers say that he will probably be able to conceive…"

"Both?" the Man questioned.

"Both male and female," Petunia clarified. "So…unnatural…"

"And the healers believe he can bear children?" Boromir questioned, shocked.

"He…bleeds…" the woman admitted.

Boromir blinked, stunned. Then a large smile spread over his face…

"This means that Father cannot object…" he whispered to himself. "Harry can bear my heirs…"

"Do you think that Gondor will accept such…freakishness from the ruling family?" Petunia questioned rudely, her jealousy guiding her.

Boromir glared at her harshly.

"Do you think that Gondor will accept another shrew on its streets?" he questioned. "You are to be out of the castle by nightfall."

"My lord…" Petunia trailed off desperately. "You cannot…I have nowhere to go!"

"You should have thought about that before making Harry cry," he stated firmly. "By nightfall…"

Petunia watched in horror as Boromir strode out of the room…

That wretched, wretched boy. It was all his fault!


Author's Note: Please let me know what you think. ^_^