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As the Captain-General of Gondor's army, Boromir was obligated to perform occasional inspections on the various divisions -- comportment, training, supplies, weapons, so on and so forth. It tended to drag on due to the sheer size of the army, but the final inspection never failed to lift his spirits due to the fact that the final division to be inspected were the Rangers of Ithilien.
The sun set as Boromir and his horse trod along the Ithilien Forest, following hidden game trails until they vanished deep into the undergrowth, then continuing deep into the thicket where he had to dismount and lead his horse on foot. They walked for hours like this, following a well-memorized path.
It was not long after the full moon rose that Boromir was ambushed, a piece of soft cloth wrapped over his eyes as he was lifted off the ground and over someone’s shoulder. A great laugh nearly escaped Boromir, though a calloused hand — broader than Faramir’s, so another senior ranger, then. Mablung or Damrod, perhaps? — clapped over Boromir’s mouth and trapped the noise. The group walked in circles for ages, splitting up and regrouping at random, and though Boromir could keep quiet he could not stay still. He gently kicked his legs, waggled his arms, and took joy in annoying whoever was carrying him. An while later, time stretched thin and unreliable through boredom, a waterfall could be heard louder and closer until it almost deafened their footsteps.
“We’ve captured a trespasser, Captain,” the ranger who was carrying Boromir, now revealed as Mablung, spoke gravely. “He’s armed and dangerous.”
Another voice carried on the wind, the familiarity bringing a wide grin on Boromir’s face. “Good, bring him in front of the fire and unbind him.”
The order was quickly obeyed, and Boromir felt a cozy warmth as the blindfold was taken off. He blinked a few times, disoriented by the bright light, but the grin returned to his face as his vision readjusted to reveal Faramir crouched right between himself and the fire. Boromir carefully launched himself at his brother to tackle him to the ground, ignoring the mix of laughing and chuckling at them and at the newer Rangers who were shocked at the display of casual affection from the noble and intimidating Captain-General.
Visiting his brother and the other Rangers was always the best part of Boromir's year, but surprising the rookies always came in a close second.