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Summary
It would be so sweet, to return to the home of her childhood and to carefree days in the Bay of Belfalas. Of course, it was no longer so - her home had changed under the threat of Mordor. So had she, surely long since forgotten by erstwhile companions, and having lost her youth and innocence in the service of a Prince who had always known but never stated that as a woman grown, there was no place for a bastard of noble blood at his home and his table.
He let me grow to love it knowing it could never love me back. She tried and failed to smooth out the uneven bit of thread that her distraction had spun, and blinked a tear out of the corner of her eye. Bastards have no homes.
Idril has been Prince Imrahil's creature as long as she can remember - his niece, his spy, sometimes his friend. But when the chance comes, to leave Minas Tirith for a future where she can be more, she takes it.
Boromir may have survived Amon Hen, but his shame follows him wherever he goes. When his the returned king charges him with rebuilding the kingdom of Arnor, he accepts. Whatever else, he is a man of duty, and he will not fail.