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Part 1
It had taken Aragorn a while to find where Arwen had vanished to; after
the debates and stresses of the council that day, the last thing he
needed was an amazing vanishing elf princess on his hands, but that
was the situation he normally faced most days. Arwen was unusual, radiating
innocence and goodwill to all she met. After all these years, Aragorn
knew she was not quite as innocent as she made out, despite her demands,
or lack of, in the bedroom. There was a definite flash in those eyes,
the indication that not everything was all light and peaceful, whenever
her will was denied. Not that this happened much, he mused as he walked
along the corridors towards the next favourite haunt to check on his
hit list. Arwen had the knack of getting what she wanted without the
other person even noticing.
He was more successful on the third choice to check; his own chambers.
Why this should be a good place for the elf to frequent he had no idea;
she never stayed more than half an hour with him in the room, and all
of that talking or the occasional silence. His frustrations seemed to
entertain her, although he would never admit that out loud.
Her back was to him as she looked out the chamber window at the forests
and mountains surrounding them. Aragorn, who was standing in the open
doorway, raised a hand to knock on the door, then had a stab of annoyance
- there was no way he was knocking to be admitted to his own bloody
room - and stalked in instead. There was no question of the elf not
knowing of his presence anyway.
He shut the door smartly behind him, and stood looking at her, still
slightly annoyed, arms folded firmly across his chest. There was a pause
that lasted for many minutes.
"Aragorn," she said finally as though he had just walked through the
door. "It is good to see you,"
"You have not seen me yet," replied Aragorn, somewhat shortly towards
her back. Arwen decided to ignore this and ran her hand along the window
sill as though testing its solidity.
"I have a present for you, Aragorn," she continued. The ranger's eyes
narrowed slightly. What deemed a present in Arwen's eyes was not necessarily
a good thing.
"Thank you," he said without much enthusiasm. To this, Arwen finally
glanced in his direction.
"I will not take offence at that tone," she smiled at him, although
her eyes were not quite so warm. "For it has been a long day for you.
I accept that. I also accept that you have many stresses and frustrations,
do you not?"
Aragorn gave a slight nod to indicate the presence of such stresses
and frustrations, his gaze still firmly locked on her warily. Arwen
ignored the wary expression easily, and smiled again at him, crossing
the room to stand in front of him.
"My love you look so cross! I thought that you were eager for some
intimacy?"
Aragorn studied her again. The cheeks were slightly flushed, her eyes
now eager and dancing. It was indeed possible that the council and the
very presence of the shadow itself had brought some urgency to the elf's
play - Arwen had delighted in stimulating then frustrating the ranger's
desires, claiming that patience was the most important virtue. After
so many years, Aragorn's opinion on patience was getting to an all time
low. It had taken him all the willpower he possessed not to find relief
elsewhere, especially during some of Arwen's favourite teasings.
"What did you have in mind?" he asked finally, still unwilling to become
another pawn in her amusements. Arwen laughed, a light, tinkling laugh,
and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
"Ah, my ranger," she ran a hand gently over his chest. "It is something
I know you will enjoy, even if.. well, we shall see on your reactions,
shall we not?"
Arwen gracefully exited the room, carefully leaving the doorway open
after her. After a brief hesitation, Aragorn followed her, following
her towards her own luxuriously furnished quarters. Arwen delighted
in silks and velvets, such materials being found throughout her chambers.
Although the materials were not the object that immediately caught Aragorn's
eye as he entered the chambers and the door was shut. His eyes were
immediately drawn towards the bed, his mouth already slightly open in
shock and bewilderment.
Arwen moved to stand beside him, looking proudly towards her conquest.
"Beautiful, is he not?" she breathed. Aragorn looked at her, then hesitantly
back at the sleeping figure on the bed.
"Why .. what has occurred here?" the ranger was having difficulty getting
the words out, his frown returning in full glory. Arwen laughed again
in genuine amusement.
"I am flattered by your jealousy! But you have no cause to fear." Arwen
looked lovingly at the bed. "He has not touched me, nor I him."
"Then why is he here?" Aragorn snapped a little harsher than he had
wished. Arwen looked surprised.
"Why, he is for you, my love."
"What?" Disbelieving, Aragorn took another look towards the elder son
of Denethor, who was still curled innocently on one of Arwen's velvet
throws, his face peaceful in sleep. "I don't understand,"
Arwen sighed to indicate Aragorn's flaws in his intelligence. "I have
brought him here for you, my love. To ease your frustrations." The elf
maiden walked gracefully to the side of the bed and ran a hand over
the Gondorian's hip and side, finally resting it on his shoulder. Boromir
stirred in his sleep, but did not wake. Aragorn found himself staring
in some fascination at them, then shook it off. This was not the time
to speculate.
"I cannot do as you request of me," he said stubbornly. Arwen cocked
her head to one side, studying him.
"And what do I request of you?" she asked softly. Aragorn swallowed
through a throat that felt extremely tight as Arwen ran her hand through
Boromir's hair gently, playing with the blonde strands. The man must
sleep deeply to still be slumbering through such caresses, thought Aragorn
grimly.
"Do you not wish for me to ..," Aragorn's vocabulary failed him once
more. Arwen watched him patiently.
"Fuck him?" she said sweetly. Aragorn's head snapped up to stare at
her in shock. Arwen rolled her eyes.
"I have lived for such a long time," she said patiently. "Did you
not think I would come across the word at some point?" She continued
her ministrations with Boromir's hair, gently moving her hand down slightly
to stroke against his ear. Boromir made a slight sleepy moan in his
sleep and moved positions slightly. Arwen did not look at him, keeping
her steady gaze on Aragorn.
"My love," she said finally. "He is yours for tonight. Do with him
as you will, but do not waste the opportunity simply through embarrassment.
I know you have desired such an opportunity for some time, but I did
not think the elves would be suitable for your needs. Did you not think
I would see your expression when you looked upon him at the library?"
Arwen laughed, and shook her head lightly. "How could we pass up the
opportunity whilst he is here?"
Aragorn had still not moved from his position near the door. His eyes
fell to the sleeping figure, still fully clothed, Boromir's sword resting
against the nearby chair. The elf maiden smiled in satisfaction at the
expression.
"Would you not like to view him closer?" she murmured. Aragorn took
a few hesitant steps towards the bed, his eyes on the Gondorian. Arwen's
smile lost some of the cosy warmth as she registered the frown returning
as Aragorn looked at the form. He moved his gaze back to her.
"How did you get him here?"
Arwen shrugged, a gesture she so rarely did, to indicate the pointlessness
of the question. "He is here. Do not trouble yourself with such questions,"
she replied casually.
"But he came of his own free will?" pressed Aragorn. Arwen rested her
dark eyes upon his suspicious grey blue gaze.
"He did." Arwen ran her hand over Boromir's side again as though possessively.
"He needed a small amount of persuasion, but in the end he realised
his desires matched that of your own."
"Exactly what form did these persuasions take?" he persisted. Arwen
gave a snort of annoyance.
"All these questions! Can you not simply take a present when it is
offered to you?" the elf's own patience was beginning to wear thin.
"All that matters is that he is here and he agrees!"
"Does he?" murmured Aragorn, laying his own hand on Boromir's and feeling
the man's warmth. Slightly too warm. "Boromir!" He moved his hand to
the Gondorian's shoulder and shook him slightly. Then harder. Boromir
eventually groaned and lifted his head slightly from his arm which he
had been using as a pillow, blinking uncertainly in the light. Aragorn
stared at Arwen.
"What have you given him?" he demanded. Arwen met his furious look
with a cool expression.
"Nothing that will harm him," she replied. "I assure you of that,"
She patted Boromir's arm as the groggy warrior sat up, and passed him
a glass of water that was ready on the nearby side table, her eyes returning
to the furious ranger.
"I gave him some Gerlanan leaves, to aid rest," she replied, suppressing
the smile that came to her lips at Aragorn's shocked expression. Gerlanan
was a powerful sedative, affecting both the body and mind.
"Then how do you know," asked Aragorn in a slightly ragged voice. "That
he came of his own free will?"
Arwen shrugged again. "It is of no consequence. He is here, and he
wishes it, do you not Boromir?"
Boromir, still dazed, nodded uncomprehendingly. Aragorn could see the
confusion in the younger man's eyes as he gazed around the room, obviously
trying to obtain his bearings. Arwen smiled at the concerned expression;
the situation would go as planned, as she knew it would. Boromir had
been a good choice, the arrogance of the lord of Gondor making him easy
prey for her suggestions and her persuasions. She had been slightly
concerned at the reported disputes at the council, but obviously this
had not affected Aragorn's opinion of the man.
"Will you not sit with him?" murmured Arwen. Aragorn rounded on her,
furiously.
"You threaten his life with Gerlanan! It is too powerful a substance
to be given freely, as you well know!" Aragorn snapped. Boromir flinched
automatically at the raised voices in the room, his hand moving to his
belt as though to grasp the hilt of the sword that was no longer there.
Aragorn registered the gondorian's distress and lowered his voice.
"If you're that concerned about the Gerlanan," replied Arwen, completely
unruffled about the outburst. "Then I suppose mentioning the bantreal
solution would be an awkward thing."
"Bantreal?" Aragorn repeated slowly, disbelieving. "When did you give
him bantreal?"
Arwen's eyes fell upon the empty glass that Boromir had just drunk,
then back at Aragorn, a smile playing on her lips. Aragorn slowly exhaled,
containing his temper. There was no point in even trying to rid Boromir's
system of the fast acting drug, and the Gondorian was in no position
to have fingers forced down his throat anyway.
"Just in case," Arwen smiled innocently. Aragorn scowled at her. Boromir,
who seemed to be more aware of his surroundings and was becoming well
aware of the fight in the room, glanced between them uncertainly.
"What's going on?" he asked finally in the dead silence of the room.
Arwen turned her charm onto him, conscious of Aragorn's glare on her,
and gently ran a finger down the gondorian's cheek.
"Why, only what you promised to me," she said, leaning towards him
and gently kissing him on the lips for a few seconds. Boromir continued
to look uncertain, although Arwen could already see the drug take effect
in his eyes, the concern drifting into desire after each minute. Boromir
leaned back into the kiss hungrily, his momentary dizziness forgotten.
Arwen broke the kiss at the feel of his hand on her side, and moved
slightly away from the bed. Boromir moved to get off the bed, but was
stopped by a careful hand on the shoulder by Aragorn. Boromir narrowed
his eyes at this new interruption.
"Boromir, calm down." Aragorn put his best no nonsense voice on, which
seemed to do nothing to calm said Gondorian who continued to stare at
him. To Arwen he snapped. "How much did you give him?"
"Oh, enough to last at least a few hours," Arwen smiled at Boromir
as though he was five and performing some new trick. "Let him go, Aragorn.
Or relieve some of your tensions. Either way, it should be interesting,
should it not?"
"I cannot believe you have done this!"
"In which case you lack imagination." Arwen's voice was clipped. "Boromir!
You look hot. Perhaps shedding some of those clothes would help?"
Boromir glanced towards Arwen, then back at Aragorn who was still holding
onto his shoulder. Aragorn found his throat had become remarkably dry
yet again as he accidentally met the steady gaze. Boromir grinned at
him, his eyes running down the ranger's body then back to meet Aragorn's
eyes. Arwen smirked to herself and settled on a nearby chair. The amount
that she had given the male was enough to get around any such difficulties
about natural sexual orientations, and Boromir seemed quicker than most
to jump to the intended conclusion. Boromir rested his own hand over
Aragorn's unresisting one, watching him.
Arwen smiled again as she watched Boromir slowly move Aragorn's hand
away from him, still gently holding it, before standing from the bed.
Aragorn seemed incapable of either acting or speaking as Boromir removed
what clothing he had on his upper body and moved to remove his breeches
with less strip tease than Arwen would have liked.
"Boromir," she decided to get involved again, moving from her comfortable
chair to wander beside the Gondorian, having to gently push him away
with a hand on his chest. She could feel the heat being generated from
him, his heart beat pulsing against the palm of her hand, a slight sheen
of sweat already forming over his body. "Relax. Slow down."
Her hand drifted lower; she could feel him against the palm of her
hand, rock hard. Boromir bit his lip to avoid moaning at the light touch
against him. Arwen, still conscious of Aragorn watching them, pressed
herself against the heat of the man and lightly kissed him again, shoving
him away as Boromir immediately tried to continue. The Gondorian looked
at her, slightly bewildered and slightly angry.
Aragorn stepped forward again, breaking the spell that held him to
one position, stepping between the drugged man and Arwen in case Boromir's
willpower failed him entirely. He smiled at Boromir, who looked at him
suspiciously then smiled himself.
"Can I dare to hope," drawled Boromir. "That all this pussyfooting
around has finished?" He glanced towards Arwen. "I assume by your actions
that you are just here to watch?"
"That is correct,"
"And if I would object to your presence?" A faint amused smile still
played on Boromir's lips.
"Then you would be a fool," replied Arwen delicately. Boromir studied
her briefly, then glanced towards Aragorn as though expecting an acknowledgement.
He shrugged.
"It makes no difference to me." Boromir commented finally, laying his
hand on Aragorn's still fully clothed chest and turning his full attention
onto the ranger, adding almost chattily to him. "The issue of your partner's
state of mind will not be discussed here, for there are more burning
issues in hand."
Aragorn could almost see Arwen's eyes narrow in his mind, and sighed
inwardly. No doubt Boromir would regret his statement later on in the
evening. Arwen did not forget. Neither did she forgive. The Gondorian
seemed unconcerned by any elvish revenge, playing with the fastenings
of the ranger's tunic lightly before grabbing hold of a handful of leather
and pulling Aragorn into a kiss. Aragorn, who had been expecting this
play, failed to contain his own enthusiasm and returnedit hungrily.
Encouraged, the tunic was soon ripped from his body by Boromir's questing
hands, given a free reign now he was sure he was not likely to get a
fist in the stomach for his advances. A flicker of thought flashed through
Aragorn's mind that the drug must not have been as strong as he had
first thought; Boromir would not have had the ability to reason or control
himself if the full dose had been administered. This flicker was soon
extinguished as bare chest met bare chest, both men eager to meet as
much bare skin as possible.
It was Aragorn who finally broke the embrace, pulling back slightly,
breathing hard, his own eyes almost as glazed as Boromir's. The Gondorian
watched him hungrily, just stopping himself from pouncing again, his
breath hard and fast.
"Something the matter?" Boromir queried lightly, his eyes trailing
down Aragorn's body and resting on the other man's crotch. Aragorn glared
towards Arwen, who had reinstated herself on her chair and was watching
expressionlessly.
"Aragorn." The elf maiden said softly. "There is a bed. Use it."
Aragorn ignored her. Boromir didn't. Pausing only to unlace his own
breeches and remove them - slowly - he sat back on the bed and looked
up at Aragorn, a lock of dirty blonde hair falling onto his forehead
as he did so. Aragorn ran his tongue over suddenly dry lips again as
he failed to ignore exactly what was offered in front of him.
"She has a point," Boromir murmured. Aragorn thought Arwen might not
like being referred to as "she" as well, but no doubt Boromir lived
on the more dangerous paths of life. He hesitated despite his immediate
desire to obey the suggestion. This only served to increase the Gondorian's
frustration, who immediately moved to kneel on the bed and reach for
the lacing on Aragorn's breeches himself. Aragorn batted away his hands,
smiling at the sulky expression that this immediately produced.
"Patience," Aragorn growled softly at him. Boromir shrugged to show
his indifference to the whole subject of patience, but waited until
Aragorn had finally removed his own breeches himself.
"What are you waiting for?" came Arwen's amused voice from the chair.
"A round of applause?"
Aragorn shot her another look. "It is remarkably difficult with spectators,"
he replied coldly. Arwen met his eyes.
"Deal with it," she said simply. Boromir watched this exchange with
growing impatience, and finally seized the initiative by leaning over
and pulling Aragorn onto the bed. The ranger yelped; there was a brief
tangle of limbs and bodies as the men fought for positions. Finally
Boromir lay looking up at Aragorn who was straddling his waist, the
Gondorian's wrists firmly captured by the ranger.
"I make the rules," snapped Aragorn. There was a brief flash of anger
in Boromir's eyes.
"Really?"
Aragorn increased the tightness of his grip on Boromir's wrists, until
he heard a noise of discomfort from the man underneath him. Eager he
may be, but he was still taking no lip from a man half his age. Aragorn
continued to give Boromir a steady look.
"Really," he confirmed. Boromir judged the situation swiftly, and gave
a casual grin back.
"If that is your desire," he replied almost meekly. Aragorn studied
him briefly before letting his grip loosen slightly. Boromir waited
for a few seconds for Aragorn to relax, then put all the strength he
had into dislodging the ranger from him. Aragorn, however, had been
waiting for this. Boromir found himself flung back on his back, Aragorn's
face inches away from his own, the ranger's body directly over Boromir's
extremely aching need and pressing against it hard. Boromir swallowed,
his eyes wider than before as he gazed at Aragorn in front of him.
"Not."said Aragorn. "Wise."
"Well, if you will-" Boromir's voice was cut off as Aragorn pressed
harder against him. He took the hint and was silent, his green-grey
eyes watching Aragorn warily. Aragorn continued until he heard a whimper,
then shifted slightly.
"And you complain I treat him badly," remarked Arwen. Aragorn shot
her a look.
"I am not treating him badly." he snapped. "Merely training."
He let go of the Gondorian's wrists entirely, and sat back up, glaring
towards the she-elf. Arwen seemed not to care, her eyes on Boromir who
was desperately trying to behave himself.
"Well, either train him or fuck him." She commented. Boromir's eyes
glanced towards her in slight shock, then back at Aragorn. Arwen stood
from her chair, and wandered towards them, a graceful smile on her features.
Aragorn watched her cautiously.
"You seem to be at a loss. Allow me." She said finally, reaching the
bed. "Boromir! Come here."
Boromir met Aragorn's gaze in a question. The ranger paused for a few
moments, before shifting slightly to be able to allow the Gondorian
to get up. After a long hesitation, Boromir did so, sliding to the ground
and standing beside her. Arwen's gaze traced down his body in satisfaction.
"Good boy. Now kneel,"
Boromir scowled, and glanced towards Aragorn, finding encouragement
in the frown he saw there. He turned back to Arwen.
"No."
Her eyes narrowed at the refusal. "That was not a request." She said
steadily. Boromir folded his arms, giving the elf a hard stare.
"I don't care,"
Arwen smiled sweetly and coldly, her eyes flickering towards Aragorn.
"He needs work."
"I am still here you know," Boromir was getting edgy about being used
as a go between. Arwen brought her gaze back to study him thoughtfully,
in a manner that Boromir didn't like at all. Aragorn, meanwhile, had
got off the bed as well and was standing behind him. Boromir managed
to stop himself jumping at the feel of the ranger's hand resting on
his shoulder. Arwen smiled even more sweetly at the flicker of nervousness
across Boromir's features at his own inability to judge exactly what
Aragorn was doing.
He relaxed somewhat as Aragorn's hand started caressing his shoulder
lightly, the ranger's voice low but definitely with an edge to it as
he addressed the she-elf.
"If what you say is true, he is mine to order around."
Boromir bit back any retort about this, feeling far too exposed to
argue his own ability to order himself about. He could feel Aragorn's
body pressed up against him, the hard muscles against his skin, and
shivered in anticipation. At this point Aragorn could claim whatever
he wanted, he decided in a cloud of lust. Arwen was giving Aragorn a
steady look.
"I don't see him obeying your orders either, my love."
"Possibly because I have not yet given him any to obey." Aragorn's
hand had wandered slightly lower, between the Gondorian's shoulder blades,
the younger man pressing against him like a kitten eager for stroking.
"But if you want me to demonstrate..,"
Arwen folded her arms.
"Boromir." The ranger's voice was low and husky. "On your knees."
A flicker of disobedience crossed Boromir's mind for an instant between
caresses, only for that to dissolve at the next touch. Boromir slowly
got to his knees, deciding on a particularly meek expression that he
normally only saved for his father. He kept his eyes towards the floor,
not wishing to see whatever cold glare was being aimed at him. Aragorn's
hand transferred itself to the Gondorian's head, playing with his hair
whilst its owner continued to watch Arwen steadily. Arwen shrugged lightly.
"And now what will you do with him?" the she-elf enquired. "Treat
him as a pet? Or actually use him?"
"That is my concern."
"Is it now?" Arwen studied the man at her feet, then back at Aragorn
dismissively. "If it was down to you he would not be here at all. I
doubt whether you would actually dare use him."
Aragorn's hand stilled in Boromir's hair. Boromir kept his eyes to
the floor in a moment of self preservation, trying to keep himself out
of the argument as much as possible. Arwen suddenly changed persuasion
tactics.
"Come now," she purred. "He is waiting at your feet, naked and eager.
See how he trembles for your touch?" She stepped slightly forward, her
hand meeting Aragorn's to run a soft finger over his tense hand encouragingly.
"You want him. I can see you do. Why deny yourself?"
Aragorn said nothing, watching Arwen carefully. However, the elf noted
the change in breathing, the quickening of intake, a particular look
flickered through his eyes, and nodded approvingly. Boromir, who had
no one but Arwen to glance at, did not like the expression he found
there.
"Take him, my love," Arwen's voice was but a light murmur. "He is yours,
and he waits for you."
Boromir felt the ranger's hand slip slowly downwards, to rest lightly
on his neck. He swallowed, returning his gaze to the floor, any argument
or cockiness forgotten.
"And what would you do?" Aragorn's voice almost broke the trance that
the elf had been weaving. Her eyes narrowed at the interruption.
"I doubt, my love, whether you would care what I was doing." She moved
forward, running her hand up his arm to rest on his shoulder, walking
round behind him. "Is that not a glorious sight?" her voice was a murmur
in his ear as she studied Boromir on the floor. "Pity the poor child,
I implore you."
Boromir was becoming distinctly uncomfortable. Not being able to see
either of them was causing his imagination to work overtime, which came
up with all manner of possibilities. He could hear Aragorn's breathing,
slightly heavier than usual, could feel his hand tighten slightly on
his neck, the other somewhere unknown. Her presence was even
more unknown, although he could almost feel the weight of her eyes on
him.
"Boromir," he heard Aragorn breath his name. "Stand up."
Kneel down, stand up, thought Boromir moodily. What was this, some
sort of exercise camp? However, he stood without arguing, although a
slight frown crossed his features. He heard Aragorn's breathing slightly
hitch, as the ranger's hand left the stronghold of Boromir's neck to
trace down his back. This light tickling was more than torture, the
feel of it merely increasing his frustrations. He kept himself under
tight control, although he could feel his self control slipping away
from his grasp with every minute that passed. He was no elf, who had
all the time they needed. His life was fast. This hesitation merely
wasted more precious time.
Apparently Arwen could see a little of his expression, for he could
hear her murmur into Aragorn's ear, no doubt deliberately loud enough
for him to do just that.
"He grows impatient, my love." It was a sweet but somehow cold voice.
"I know what you desire. Have you not thought of it for years, despairing
of the expertise but gentleness of the elves? Here is one you can be
as rough as you like, and he will still beg for more."
Boromir could feel Aragorn's hand falter on his back, his own breathing
beginning to get slightly ragged. He wasn't too confident of this whole
"rough as you like" concept. He could take it, certainly, but his own
experience was far too limited for him to feel anything but wariness
to the idea. However, this was put from his mind as Aragorn stepped
closer to him, pressing his body against him, his hands drifting around
Boromir's body to move casually towards the Gondorian's rock hard flesh.
Boromir whimpered against him, automatically pressing against him as
Aragorn started to caress him roughly, the ranger's head resting slightly
on his shoulder, Aragorn's increasingly excited breathing loud in his
ear. He could feel Aragorn's own arousal, every bit as hard as Boromir's,
pressing against the curve of his buttocks, occasionally nudging against
him. Boromir groaned as Aragorn speeded up his ministrations, almost
impatiently, past caring that the she-elf was still watching avidly
to the scene. He could feel Aragorn's hand on one of his hips, holding
him fast, his fingers almost digging into his flesh to keep the younger
man still. Boromir bit his lip to keep from openly moaning, the pain
a welcome distraction from the peak he could feel rushing towards him.
However, Aragorn still did not feel particularly merciful. At the point
where Boromir was about to give up to his pleasures entirely, the ranger
suddenly stopped. Boromir blinked in surprise, and started to look back.
"Eyes forward." Aragorn's growl was so very close to his ear, dangerously
low. Boromir returned his eyes nervously back in front of him. An elven
portrait stared back at him, an arrogant looking female resting on a
delicate chair. He focused hard on it as he felt Aragorn's hands on
his back, this time rough and demanding, drift towards the cleft of
his buttocks. Boromir swallowed as he registered the sound of a bottle
opening to his side, presumably from the witch of a she-elf, although
he dared not glance to the side to confirm these suspicions. Aragorn's
hands left his skin, only to come back after the swiftest of times.
Boromir's lip was bitten once more as he felt Aragorn return to him,
now cold hands prying him open to allow fingers access to him. He stiffened
his back and caught back a yelp as he felt Aragorn's fingers, rough
and demanding, invade him. Aragorn, sensing his discomfort, tried to
slow down his movements, but his excitement soon overtook him. Boromir
gasped as a second, then a third finger was added, his lip now extremely
sore from constant biting, although his groin still throbbed in demand,
seemingly detached from the increasing fear in the Gondorian's mind.
"He is ready," he heard Arwen's voice float towards him. Boromir could
feel the fingers in him hesitate as their owner considered the implications,
and stared unblinking at the portrait, who gave an unsympathetic look
back. The fingers withdrew; Boromir's words caught in his throat as
he felt rough hands on his hips again, turning him slightly and pushing
him against the bed. Boromir's hands braced himself as he leant forward,
his breath uneven, his eyes slightly wider as he struggled to come to
terms with possibly begging for-
The first thrust took his breath away; the oil had done little to aid
lubrications, despite Aragorn's hasty attempts. He was too tight and
too dry. A cry was forced from his lips at the second thrust, his hands
making fists in the bed linen as he attempted to stay upright. He could
feel Aragorn hesitate at this sound, the cry breaking into the ranger's
lusts.
"He is fine," came Arwen's voice again.
Apparently this was good enough for Aragorn as he started again. Boromir
screamed at the next hard thrust inside him, certain that he was tearing.
Aragorn stopped again.
"That is not fine," Boromir heard him say. He could feel the ranger
gently withdrawing, then stopping before he was clear of Boromir's body.
Boromir whimpered.
"You admit defeat now?" That hated voice again, now with a slight tinge
of disbelief added to it. "And I thought you were stronger than that."
"He is in pain," replied Aragorn stubbornly, managing to shake whatever
hold Arwen had over him and completely withdrawing from Boromir. There
was a light sigh from the she-elf.
"He enjoys it."
Boromir, who recognised he had been reduced to a "he", felt like the
entire energy had been zapped from his body. He stayed, panting heavily,
in the same position that Aragorn left him. He jerked as the ranger
lay a hand on his back. Aragorn hesitated again.
"Why do you wait, my love?" Arwen's soft tones once more. "He is ready
and waiting for you. You are his king. What could be more satisfying
than pleasuring your king?"
Aragorn looked helplessly back down at the Gondorian in front of him.
He could hear his breathing from here, mixed with the occasional sob.
Boromir was still so very inviting, but the roughness of his dreams
were swiftly turning into something he was not entirely sure he liked.
Arwen moved to his side, conscious of his indecision.
"If he does not want it, why does he not say?" she said, a hand resting
lightly and undoubtedly threateningly on one of Boromir's bare buttocks
whilst leaning over the prone figure as if to assess him more closely.
Boromir's bit got another biting, the copper tang of blood mixed in
his mouth. He could feel the sharp edges of her nails on him, only lightly
scratching the skin at this point, ready to slam down into him at the
first mention of mutiny.
"Boromir?" he heard his name being spoken softly by Aragorn, a rather
harsh contrast to the roughness of before. Boromir struggled to control
his breathing as he felt the weight of the bed shift as Aragorn sat
next to him, his hand warm and soft on the Gondorian's shoulder. Arwen's
talons had shifted slightly, although he could feel one nail trace along
his lower back in reminder.
"Boromir, speak to me," Aragorn's voice had a worried quality to it,
the ranger privately wondering whether he had managed to traumatise
the younger man to this extent. Boromir managed to get a good amount
of air into his lungs.
"And say what?" he managed, as casually as he could make it. There
was no way he was about to admit defeat in front of this pair. Arwen
shifted impatiently.
"You see? He is fine. You worry too much,"
Aragorn ignored her, watching Boromir steadily. He still could not
see the Gondorian's face, Boromir resisting any attempts to move him.
The ranger moved his hand across Boromir's back, and had not reached
even the lower back before he felt the younger man tense underneath
him. He frowned, and moved off. Arwen watched him cautiously.
"And where are you going, my love?" she inquired. Aragorn looked back
at her.
"I am going to get a salve." He replied, continuing out of the door.
Arwen watched him for a few more moments before sitting herself down
in the place where Aragorn had been. She studied the Gondorian in a
manner of idle interest. Boromir found himself glancing to meet her
eyes, cold and dark in the light.
"I suppose," she said. "you have no idea how long I have waited for
this. I will not allow you, a mere mortal, to ruin months of planning
due to your weaknesses."
Boromir glared at her, suddenly finding the power to shift himself
into a more comfortable and less vulnerable position on the bed.
"I don't take orders from you," he snapped at her. Arwen smiled, a
cold polite smile.
"I think you will, child." she murmured. "It would be in your best
interests."
"Are you threatening me now?" Boromir held onto his anger, his only
defence. The smile grew amused.
"Why, yes. But that's not the issue now is it. Everything holds dangers,
Lord Boromir. You know that. I know that. Your journey to Rivendell
was a danger. Getting out of bed each day is a danger. Scouting missions,
for example, are incredibly dangerous, so I hear." Her voice was light
and sweet. He frowned at her, not understanding what point she was trying
to make, although understanding there was something else there.
Arwen noticed the uncertainty in the grey-green eyes, and smiled at
him again. "How is your brother, my Lord Boromir?"
Boromir stiffened immediately, his eyes hard. "Do not bring Faramir
into this,"
The she-elf looked mildly surprised. "Oh, but I must, under the circumstances."
She adjusted her position and studied him slightly closer. "You were
not chosen at a whim, my dear child. I have done my research. You are
close to your brother, are you not? Everyone can see it. The ways you
spend so much time together, so happy." She smiled sweetly at his angry
but frightened expression. "Although I am sure not everyone knows of
what occurs during these times together."
"Leave him alone." Boromir didn't recognise his own voice through the
harshness. Arwen shook her head playfully.
"Now that wouldn't be fair at all, would it? Shame on you, Boromir."
Boromir looked terrified. "Nothing happens."
"I see." Arwen nodded thoughtfully, raising her eyes to meet his. "And
your father would understand this immediately." Boromir looked away,
shutting his eyes at the understanding noise from Arwen. "I thought
not." She said pointedly.
Boromir said nothing, his eyes away from the she elf beside him. Arwen
moved closer to him, so that her breath was mere inches away from his
ear.
"You will allow Aragorn whatever he wants. You will
encourage him, make the appropriate noises, be enthusiastic. You will
do this all with a smile on your face. Else I could make your brother's
life extremely difficult." Arwen gently and carefully put a hand under
Boromir's chin to pull his head around to look at her. "Do you understand,
boy?"
Boromir merely scowled, but both knew it was only for show.
"Do you?" They stared at each other. Boromir dropped his eyes first.
There was a satisfied noise from Arwen who released Boromir's chin and
sat back.
"Good." She said. "In which case I expect to see some action from you
very shortly, do I make myself clear?"
Boromir nodded reluctantly. It was a few minutes more that Aragorn
returned, a pot of salve in one hand, a suspicious look aimed at Arwen
who had returned to her chair.
"I believe he has recovered sufficiently," she remarked. "But no doubt
you must make sure."
Aragorn turned back to the bed, smiling gently at the younger man who
was sitting in a more casual position on it, watching him. Boromir smiled
back, and shifted in invitation for Aragorn to sit down beside him.
The ranger did so, putting the pot down and not being able to resist
being pulled into a long and lingering kiss by Boromir as soon as he
was able. Aragorn immediately brought his arms around the Gondorian,
pulling him closer, feeling the cold skin against his own.
"I have let you get cold," he murmured, pulling away slightly. "But
what is this? I thought you were..,"
"I got better." Boromir was able to smile at Aragorn normally, feeling
his original attraction for the man tug at him. The ranger looked at
him thoughtfully, not wishing to argue but fearing the interference
of Arwen in Boromir's decisions. Boromir laughed at the concerned yet
lustful expression in Aragorn's eyes.
"Fear not. I have not been cohered into this," he said in amusement.
Aragorn smiled too, and shook his head.
"Of course not, forgive me," he murmured at Boromir. "I should have
known you would take orders from no one, my wild creature."
Over Aragorn's shoulder, Boromir's eyes caught the self satisfied gaze
of Arwen. The ranger had already started caressing the Gondorian's body
lightly, as though he were a delicate ornament.
"I won't break, Aragorn," Boromir turned back to the ranger. Aragorn
returned his look with a steady gaze, shrugged, and pulled Boromir back
into a suitable embrace, his hands returning rougher than before, Boromir
returning the favours as best he could. Soon enough he felt Aragorn's
hands on him, moaning in approval loud enough for there not to be any
quibble from Arwen at a later date. Not that he needed much encouragement;
the earlier frustrations mixed with the drug still occupying his systems
had made him incredibly sensitive to everything, his longing increasing
by the minute. He shut his eyes at the feel of Aragorn's teeth on his
neck, not playing around anymore, but the small amount of pain seemed
only to fuel his own desires as much as it obviously excited Aragorn.
Boromir tried to give Aragorn back some of the attention he had been
lavishing on Boromir, which the ranger refused by seizing the Gondorian's
hands tightly to stop them moving. There was a noise of protest from
Boromir.
"Shush," Aragorn murmured in his ear, the warm breath causing him to
shiver in anticipation. "I have plans for you,"
Boromir's eyes found their way back to Arwen, who was still watching
in interest and who gave him a polite smile back. He looked back at
Aragorn who had either not seen or did not care the glance towards his
intended in his current plans. Suddenly the Gondorian found himself
flat on his back, Aragorn having given him a hard shove towards his
destination. Boromir stared upwards as the ranger leant over him with
an extremely determined expression on his face, then grinned and swiftly
rolled out from under Aragorn's grasp. Aragorn watched him dumbfounded,
and slightly cautiously, wary that this might be Boromir's roundabout
way of stating all was not well. This was clearly ruined when Boromir
got to his hands and knees and glanced over his shoulder.
"Come on then, haven't got all day you know,"
Arwen, who had straightened in her chair at the possible escape, relaxed
slightly and smiled to herself. The child was not in any way back in
her good books, but at least there was a glimmer of obedience.
Aragorn shook his head in amusement, and slapped Boromir hard but playfully
on the raised rear.
"My rules, remember?"
"Your rules are too slow," protested Boromir. Aragorn made a "hmmm"
noise at the back of his throat, but seized the pot of salve without
any further protest. The Gondorian suddenly yelped with shock as something
incredibly cold applied itself to his innermost secret areas. Or at
least roughly, as Boromir jerked forwards to escape the sudden shock.
Aragorn sighed in a dramatic fashion, put a hand on the small of Boromir's
back, and shoved him to lie face down on the bed. All in all, thought
Boromir through a mouthful of pillow, far too much shoving recently.
"No moving," came the instruction, the weight of Aragorn straddling
his legs suddenly coming to Boromir's attention.
"It's cold!" complained Boromir, squirming slightly under the weight.
"It's good for you," Aragorn rested his hand lightly on Boromir's back
and scooped some more cold cream on a finger. He felt Boromir stiffen
underneath him as he carefully inserted the salve coated finger inside
him and smooth it over the ransacked nerves. Boromir twitched and shuddered
underneath him like a nervous colt, but kept from saying anything except
a whimper at the start. Soon Aragorn had finished medicine smoothing
to his satisfaction, and got off Boromir's legs.
Boromir glanced at him over his shoulder, panting slightly.
"You finished?"
"Yep."
The Gondorian shifted onto his knees, and seized the salve pot. He
took a reasonable quanitity under Aragorn's suspicious look, and returned
the expression with a cheerful grin.
"Think you missed a spot," Boromir turned to run his hand along Aragorn's
erection, grinning even wider at Aragorn's hiss against the cold, before
stroking along it with such enthusiasm Aragorn almost came there and
then. Boromir gave Aragorn another mischievous grin and positioned himself
back on hands and knees, Aragorn's gaze immediately being drawn to what
was on offer. Boromir heard the ranger's inwards breath, and tried not
to tense his muscles as he felt the bed dip as Aragorn moved closer
to him, the ranger's hands moving to rest on Boromir's hips. There was
a pause.
"You're shaking,"
"You just shoved an icicle up my arse," complained Boromir, hoping
this would explain it without further prying. However, he was in luck
- of a sort. Without any further protest, he felt the tip of Aragorn's
member against him. Boromir managed to take in a gulp of air before
Aragorn started pushing in earnest, feeling himself become so very ..
possessed. The pain was there of course, his head bowed, eyes
shut, hands formed into fists in the bedspread. However, not a peep
came from him, knowing full well Aragorn would stop immediately.
Aragorn paused, savouring the delicious tightness of the man around
him, buried up to the hilt in Boromir, his breath ragged and uneven.
"By the Valor you're beautiful," he murmured against Boromir's back,
feeling the Gondorian struggle to control his own breathing, before
losing himself completely, thrusting into the welcome tight warm that
Boromir possessed. Boromir's ability to keep a lid on his noises failed
after the sixth thrust, but it was a noise of encouragement; the pain
had numbed to a low and bearable ache, and Boromir's longing to thrust
back against Aragorn was increasing by the second. Aragorn laughed against
him and slowed his movements down, smiling at Boromir's noises of protest
and timid nudges against him.
"There's something you want.?" he purred.
"Get on with it, for the love of.," panted Boromir desperately. Aragorn
made a thoughtful noise, and delicately stroked Boromir's arousal. Boromir
almost jumped a mile.
"Shush, my little one," murmured Aragorn, still oh so gently moving
inside Boromir. Boromir groaned in frustration and bowed his head slightly.
Aragorn carefully moved back until he had almost entirely withdrawn
from the body of his lover, and paused before plunging back into Boromir
hard. Boromir whimpered again, and Aragorn delighted in the moans he
received as he continued to thrust into the Gondorian, each time harder
until he was sure he was seeing stars by the sheer force. Boromir, meanwhile,
was thrusting almost as hard back against him, the timidity a mere memory
as he demanded more from his lover. Aragorn rose to the challenge, attempting
to last that bit longer as he felt himself come towards the edge. His
hand groped clumsily for Boromir, and he felt and heard the Gondorian
cry out as he roughly stroked the man into conclusion, the impossible
tightness getting even more impossibly tight around Aragorn as the warrior
clenched around him in his orgasm, Boromir's panting mixing with Aragorn's
own cry as he reached his peak and exploded inside him.
Both men collapsed onto the bed, Aragorn's arm wrapped round Boromir.
There was a distinctly satisfied moan from Boromir, who pressed against
the wonderfully warm body of his lover as though he was a comfort blanket.
Aragorn kissed the Gondorian's shoulder fondly before flopping onto
his back and staring at the ceiling, a smile still playing on his lips.
Boromir made a sulky noise.
"I'm hardly far away," protested Aragorn, giving Boromir a light cuff
on the side of the head. Boromir pouted and turned over himself, his
eyes accidentally falling onto Arwen. The she-elf had been watching
in enjoyment, and had a particularly predatory expression on her face.
Boromir shuddered slightly, which Aragorn took to mean he was cold and
sat up, wrapped an arm around him.
"Poor baby," he kissed Boromir's forehead, unaware that Boromir's eyes
were firmly fixed on the elven threat in the corner. Sure enough, Arwen
walked casually towards them. Aragorn smiled at her.
"You enjoyed my present?" she enquired sweetly, an equal smile on her
face. Aragorn laughed, his humour restored.
"Certainly something I cannot forget," he replied cheerfully. Boromir
managed not to shrink back as Arwen reached out to trail a finger lightly
down his cheek, his eyes still fixed onto hers, trying to assure himself
that she was satisfied by him. Aragorn noticed the slight flinch and
looked in surprise at Boromir. Arwen took his mind off such unusual
behaviour by lightly kissing Aragorn, moving her attentions swiftly
onwards.
"So you would enjoy another session?" she purred. "Possibly explore
some of those .. themes you were speaking of before?"
Aragorn flushed. "I didn't think you had been listening,"
"I always listen. You discover such wonderful things simply by letting
people talk," her eyes flickered knowledgeably over Boromir, then back
at Aragorn warmly. "Does that not tempt you?"
Aragorn's arm tightened around Boromir. "It would," he confessed, his
voice lower. Boromir's eyes moved from Arwen's self satisfied expression
to what he could see of Aragorn in confusion and growing unease.
"Themes?" he said softly when it was obvious no one was going to start
informing him. Aragorn started, guiltily.
"Of course this would all be with your permission," he hastened to
add to the younger man. Arwen's eyes fell on him. Boromir swallowed
nervously.
"I doubt whether that would be a problem," replied the she-elf, smiling
innocently at Boromir. "Is that not right Boromir?"
Boromir, his mind working on possibilities on what he was getting himself
into, slowly nodded. It might be a rough few nights indeed
Part 2: The Lady Loves
The hills were alive, dangerous. Faramir rested briefly although still
constantly keeping watch, his eyes flickering over the hilltop for any
sort of danger or indication that it might appear. There had been many
reports of bandits in these lands, mostly Haradrim, organised ruthless
killers who hated the men of Gondor as much as the Gondorians hated
them. After so long hunting them, Faramir knew better than to put his
guard down.
Faramir tested the weight of his sword in the sheath, and glanced towards
the side as one of the Ithilien rangers approached. The Captain relaxed
slightly.
"Cathalin. What news?"
"Very little my lord," replied the ranger in a low voice. "The paths
seem completely empty."
Faramir growled in his throat. They had been tipped that there would
be a meeting here, a suitable spot to strike and rid the land of at
least one or two of the leaders. Denethor had been extremely strict
upon this matter, warning that he would look very unfavourably on any
possibility of failure with a glare that stated exactly how unfavourably
it was going to be. The young Gondorian lord frowned towards the skyline,
annoyed at the set back.
"Has there been anything? Any tracks, any passage?" he said, slightly
sharper than he meant to. Cathalin shrugged slightly, not meeting his
gaze and choosing to rest his cool blue eyes on the beauty of the surrounding
low-lying forests instead.
"Not that we have found, my lord," he said carefully and not without
regret. There was no love lost between the Ithilien rangers and the
Haradrim, and they were all aware of the sensitive issues between Faramir
and his father.
Faramir growled again angrily. Yet again he was going to fail in his
duty, fail to meet up with his father's expectations. Although that
was mostly the problem. Denethor had expectations of his younger son's
talents, and succeeding was not one of them. Nothing, no act of bravery,
no word from Boromir, no off the cuff victory seemed to change his mind
on this matter. Faramir knew damn well that many of his successful battles
could have easily drifted towards failure had it not been for the skill
of the rangers as a fighting unit and not a small amount of good fortune
within the battle itself. And for what? One small word of praise which
constantly failed to materialise.
"The source must not have been accurate," continued the ranger, his
eyes flickering back to watch his young lord carefully. Faramir snorted.
"Father will not see it like that," he replied bitterly. "We simply
followed the wrong interpretation, no doubt,"
Cathalin gave another graceful shrug, displaying the elvish in his
bloodline. "Perhaps we are a day early," he suggested.
"Perhaps,"
They stood looking down towards the empty road in silence. The ranger
finally moved slightly.
"I can organise the watch if you wish to rest, my lord," he said. Faramir
shook his head.
"I cannot fall asleep on duty." His voice was firm on this matter.
The ranger watched him cautiously.
"You will be of more use to us refreshed, my lord," he said finally.
Faramir glared at him for a moment, eyes hard and cold, his posture
more like Denethor than the young man would ever realise. But his eyes
softened after a mere moment, a slow smile on his face.
"Perhaps you are right." He murmured after a while. The ranger shrugged
once more, with an expression of one who knows he is right but does
not want to boast. Faramir slapped the man on the shoulder lightly,
then moved towards the main camp.
"My lord," Cathalin's voice was suddenly low and urgent. Faramir stopped
immediately, his hand directly to the hilt of his sword, scanning the
surroundings carefully then glancing back to the ranger. Cathalin was
alert, posture like an alarmed cat, surveying the landscape.
Faramir felt the familiar thrill of battle racing through his veins,
his breathing light and quick, standing on the balls of his feet to
ensure speed and agility. Cathalin was poised, his head slightly cocked
to one side, as though he had heard something. Their eyes met. Cathalin
nodded once towards the east.
Moving as a pair, they started towards it, Cathalin to the north and
Faramir slightly to the south, surrounding the heavily foliaged area.
Within a minute Faramir had lost track of the other ranger as bushes
and trees interrupted their line of vision.
He moved forwards, silently, his eyes scanning the trees for signs
of any danger. He paused as he surveyed a figure hidden mostly by leaves,
slim, alert, no more than four metres away from him. His eyes fixed
upon the figure, he moved steadily towards it, Faramir slowing his movements
to avoid detection.
However, it is never the elf that you saw which proves the danger.
It is the one you didn't.
The present situation, as Boromir saw it, had its merits. Sure, he
was in the fifth day of being the current whore of the King of Gondor,
a somewhat significant flaw by anyone's standards. Aragorn had protested
loudly when Boromir had commented on his position, and the Gondorian
had promptly dropped the subject; but, he was nothing if not a realist
and there was no other possible description for what he was doing, except
possibly slave.
And there also lay the merits. Despite the severe attacks on his pride,
Boromir had grudgingly accepted the fact that the feeling of Aragorn
on and in his body wasn't bad. In fact, it could be classified as very
good, if not for the little problem of his soon to be wife.
Boromir gritted his teeth at the thought of Arwen. The she-elf seemed
determined to ensure that the Lord of Gondor was under her own control,
a little toy under her whim. Thankfully, due to a lot of hard work,
defiance and Aragorn's unknowing support, there was only so much she
could do. Any command could normally be reversed by careful playing
of Aragorn, making sure that the defiance came from the King of Gondor
rather than Boromir himself. Arwen was not fooled but she hesitated
from directly commanding Aragorn, for reasons Boromir could not quite
comprehend.
For now, the Gondorian was satisfied just lying over his lover's lap
like a cat, feeling Aragorn's hands playing with his soft dirty blonde
hair idly, Boromir's chest resting on Aragorn's thighs. Complications
and considerations could wait for tomorrow as far as he was concerned.
Boromir shifted slightly and sighed contentedly, Aragorn smiling down
at his lover fondly. The rest of the bed demonstrated exactly what type
of activities they had recently undertaken, a few blankets littering
the floor, the oil bottle almost empty sitting innocently on the bedside
table.
"How very touching," came a voice from the doorway.
Aragorn's hand paused in Boromir's hair at the sound. Boromir's eyes
opened slightly, giving the she-elf a wary look as she walked towards
them, arms folded. The Gondorian cursed the elf household rule about
a lack of locks on doors, a system based on trust and annoying as anything
to those not used to the invasion.
However, Arwen's attention seemed to be for all Aragorn. There was
a distinct flicker of annoyance in her features, something that she
normally managed to avoid., a clear indication that things were not
entirely satisfactory.
"You started without me," the she-elf managed to make her voice pleasant.
Aragorn shrugged and went back to playing with Boromir's hair, watching
her steadily.
"We had things to do," he replied. Arwen glanced at Boromir in vague
disgust and back at her betrothed. Aragorn, however, was staring at
her firmly, well aware that something was up. Neither had Aragorn missed
the particularly sharp look aimed at his lover, his back straightening
as if expecting a little more argument than normal to come his way.
In response, Boromir attempted to rise, but a hand between his shoulder
blades put paid to any further suggestions along those lines. The Gondorian
sighed softly and resettled himself back on Aragorn's lap, green eyes
watching their visitor warily.
"Do you begrudge us this time?" Aragorn asked softly. "After all,
our union was your idea."
Arwen smiled winningly. "Of course not. However," she paused delicately,
as though attempting to find the words. "I confess to being a little
concerned about your restraint."
The ranger watched her, a slightly confused expression gracing his
features. "My restraint?" he echoed.
"Well," Arwen glanced towards Boromir idly, then back at Aragorn. "Your
visible conduct. There may be some people in this world that might not
like hearing exactly what happens here. Patience is needed to avoid
any .. difficulties,"
Aragorn felt Boromir tense against him, and started to caress his lover's
back in a vague way of calming him down. Obviously the fear of their
union reaching his father's ears weighed heavily on the Gondorian. The
ranger considered the matter further, his eyes no more relaxed.
"I assume that was not a threat, dear heart," he said softly. "So I
thank you for your concern. I admit, I had not fully considered the
prospect of how this news would be welcomed in Minas Tirith."
Boromir resisted the urge to looked slightly shocked at this sentence.
Obviously if Minas Tirith was being considered, long term relationships
were likely to be forthcoming. However, Aragorn's gentle and talented
hands were still on his back, tracing long forgotten scars idly. Just
this touch managed to put these thoughts of the back of his mind, gently
relaxing him. Or, indeed, as relaxed as he could get with Arwen standing
in front of them.
Boromir purposefully kept his eyes away from the she-elf, trying to
avoid the hard glare of her anger. However, he could still feel it building
against him, promising trouble. Boromir shivered slightly, and nestled
even further against the strong strength of Aragorn.
"Obviously you had not," Arwen smiled at Aragorn, as though a teacher
rewarding a talented pupil, and sat down on the bed herself. Boromir
was surprised as the elven hand patted him on the head like a dog; so
much so that he glanced at her, confused. The she-elf's expression made
him shiver again, not that he could pin down exactly what caused the
reaction. Arwen was serenity itself.
"What would you have us do?" Aragorn queried further. "I will not
give him up," Hand tightened on Boromir's shoulder possessively. The
Gondorian sighed to himself, and reminded him that as heir to the Stewardship
this type of possession was well within the King's rights. Regardless
of how embarrassing it was at times.
"Simply use slightly more caution, my love." Arwen's voice was soothing.
"Resist the urge to pounce on him at all times, and allow yourself a
little more flexibility,"
Aragorn watched her cautiously. This sounded too easy. Arwen was aware
of the disbelief and laughed lightly, playing with Boromir's hair in
a similar manner as Aragorn had previously.
"You do not have to worry, my darling. I am not planning to take him
from you,"
"You still have not informed me why you tolerate his presence in the
first place," Aragorn said finally.
Boromir decided to keep his eyes shut and tried to stay out of this
as much as possible, shrinking against Aragorn's lap and wishing he
could pull off it altogether, simply curl against the other side of
Aragorn and keep ranger between him and Arwen. However, that line of
retreat was simply not open to him, although Aragorn's hand still soothed,
aware of the tension through his Steward.
"He gives you pleasure that I cannot," said Arwen simply after the
slightest of pauses.
"I see," replied Aragorn in a tone that stated his caution. Arwen leant
forward, kissing her betrothed gently on the lips before tracing her
finger and sharp nail lightly down Boromir's back.
"You," she said in the lightest of whispers. "are far too suspicious.
Can't a girl do something nice for her soon to be husband?"
Boromir resented the idea that he was a present between lovers, but
kept his mouth shut, especially as Arwen's nail continued to trail along
his back, a hidden threat to Aragorn but extremely clear to the increasingly
nervous Boromir.
"Hmmm," Aragorn suspected further reasons, but now was not the time.
He was already late for a meeting with his father and Gandalf, and there
was no way he could speak to them whilst he reeked of sex and sweat.
He shrugged slightly again.
"Obviously I cannot hope to understand a woman, so I shall merely look
baffled and get myself a bath." Aragorn sighed, and gently helped Boromir
to slide off his lap onto his bed. He ruffled the younger man's hair
affectionately again, smiling at the warmth of the look he received
from Boromir.
"Would you like me to assist you?" Arwen queried. Aragorn looked surprised.
"I think I could probably manage, although thank you for your offer,"
he smiled. "It will only be short one. I have meetings, unfortunately,"
Aragorn swung himself from the bed and padded naked towards the next
room. Arwen watched him leave, then turned her attention onto the Gondorian
who was trying to remain forgotten. Unsuccessfully, he noted much to
his dismay.
"And I think we have some discussions to have ourselves, don't we pet?"
"*Is he awake*?" Haldir eyed his brother briefly before turning his
attention back to the door. Rumil shrugged delicately, a look of distain
crossing his features, keeping to the same use of elvish as his brother.
"*Apparently. He's not doing much*,"
"*Have you had any difficulties*?" Haldir strolled into the chambers
and looked down at the scruffy and bewildered young man who was huddled
in the corner. Huge blue-green eyes stared at him. The elf returned
the gaze, haughty, cool, completely unaffected by the human's fear and
uncertainty as he scrutinized him.
Haldir was pleased to notice his assessments on the race of Men was
entirely correct. Pointless the lot of them. Their reputation as fighters,
the one mere quality that recommended them, was obviously flawed. Most
likely these creatures were just opportunists, squabbling amongst themselves.
After all, they had managed to swiftly subdue and capture one of their
leaders without much fuss, although Haldir's brother was nursing a bruised
jaw from a well aimed punch. One human, no matter how talented, would
never be a match for an elf, let alone three. It had all been a simple
matter of time and patience for the best time to strike, away from the
humans who made up the rest of the unit.
Rumil entered the room behind him and studied the human himself.
"*None that we have found. He appears to be behaving himself*," he
answered.
Faramir's eyes flickered to the new presence in the room, the faintest
of frowns appearing then disappearing on his features. Haldir nodded,
satisfied.
"*Well, at least he is capable of behaving. Have you the knife*?"
Rumil nodded and produced the slim knife from his belt. The stamp of
the Tree of Gondor was clearly marked on the leather. Haldir pulled
it from its sheath and studied the rough engraving on the blade briefly
before returning it.
"*Good,*" He eyed the young man again nonchalantly, then frowned slightly
as he noted the position of the young man."*Is he chained*?"
Rumil shrugged, unconcerned. "*There seemed no need*,"
Haldir stared at him with a look that could freeze fire itself.
"*This man is a Captain of the Gondorian army*," he said slowly. "*He
is unlikely to be harmless*,"
"*And how much of that will be down to his father's influence?*" countered
Rumil angrily. "*Look at him.*"
Haldir returned his gaze back onto the human, who appeared to have
huddled even further into the corner. The elf folded his arms slowly
and deliberately, enjoying the slight flinch of the young man. This
was obviously a man who knew his place in the world. However, one could
not be too careful. Arwen would not be impressed should anything happen
to her little negotiation tool and Haldir did not feel in the mood to
be inconvenienced.
"*Regardless,*" he said. "*I would prefer that he was restrained.*"
Rumil shrugged delicately again, to indicate the futility of the situation
but said nothing as Haldir stepped forward until he was directly in
front of Faramir. He studied the young man for a few more moments, the
faintest of smiles on his face, before kneeling beside him and seizing
the ankle cuff which had been to the side. Their eyes met.
Haldir hesitated, suddenly uncertain. Surely there was something else
behind the fear, the nervousness, a flicker of -
Faramir put his full strength into shoving against Haldir, all trace
of fear disappeared in the sheer rage that filled the young man. Hard,
cold and strong eyes glared at Haldir as he fought, the elf cursing
himself for assuming that the humans would know their limitations. He
could feel the Man fight through all his strengths, trying to take some
advantage over the physical power of the elf by the awkward position
that he had caught him in. However, once Rumil had joined them there
was no contest. Faramir's moment of advantage was over, and the human
knew it.
With a look of defiance and disgust, the younger man slumped against
the wall of the room, gazing at his captors warily, waiting for the
consequences he knew would come. Haldir gave Rumil a sideways look,
vindicated.
"*No difficulties*?" he murmured, snapping on the cuff to Faramir's
left ankle with a soft click. Deliberately slowly, Haldir returned his
gaze to the young man and carefully stroked his finger down Faramir's
cheek, smiling coldly into the blue-green eyes. There was no flinching
now. Sheer hatred shone back at him.
"What do you want?" Faramir's voice was a lot stronger than Haldir
had expected. The elf snorted amusement and glanced back to his brother,
completely ignoring the captive.
"*Keep an eye on him,*" Haldir began and stopped as Faramir put his
hand on the elf's chest.
"I said," an insertion of steel here by Faramir, slow, deliberate.
"what do you want?"
Haldir looked briefly astonished by the sheer audacity of the creature.
The Man had no advantages whatsoever, and yet he demanded information!
The elf laughed softly.
"Well, look who's developed claws," Haldir said easily in common. "Surely
it is obvious, young one. We desire your presence,"
Faramir's eyes narrowed. "Why?"
"That is not for you to know," Less amused by further questions, Haldir
prepared himself to assert his authority. The human stared at him a
moment longer, a flicker of indecision in his eyes, before finally sitting
back further against the wall and staring at his hands which were positioned
on his lap. A posture of obedience and submission. Haldir finally nodded
his head in satisfaction and put his hand briefly on Faramir's red gold
hair.
"Good boy,"
In Aragorn's chambers, Arwen had wasted no time into going into the
attack.
"Exactly what have you been suggesting to him?" she snapped, keeping
her voice low but strong enough to convey her full fury. Boromir sat
upright, gathering the remaining blankets to cover himself, trying to
limit the vulnerability he already felt.
"Everything that you have told me to suggest to him," he replied coldly,
cautious but still unwilling to jump to this she-elf's tune. He loathed
being the pawn in their game, but until he was sure there was no threat
to Gondor or, more importantly, his beloved baby brother, there was
little he could do about it. And, what was worse, they both knew it.
Arwen snorted. "You have been teaching him disobedience,"
"Not intentionally," Boromir's gaze was more steady than he felt. "I
have done everything that you have ordered me to, and everything that
he has asked."
Arwen noted the difference. Her eyes narrowed. "Yes, I have noticed
the growing . tenderness of your relationship," she replied finally.
"Don't let it get in the way,"
"I wouldn't dream of it," Safe in the knowledge that Aragorn was within
shouting distance, Boromir felt slightly braver than normal. His father
would be furious that he had pandered to a female's whim, but he had
obviously not encountered female elves such as the one Boromir now faced.
Arwen noticed the differing emotions in the man and decided to cut this
little exploration short.
"I'd suggest you re-examine your priorities, boy," the she-elf stared
at him coldly. "Do not annoy me. There is a lot I can do to you."
Boromir stared at her, sullen. His eyes flickered towards the bathing
chambers. Arwen smiled a cold thin smile.
"Oh, and don't believe that he will be able to save you. We have an
arrangement, Aragorn and I. After all, what would be fairer than me
asking for a few hours with you in exchange for his nightly sessions?"
the she-elf's voice was sweet, her smile growing even wider at Boromir's
frozen expression. A few hours could be lethal.
"He would notice if you harmed me," Boromir's voice was steady. Arwen
shrugged, unconcerned.
"Only if you told him. And you wouldn't be that foolish," Arwen trailed
her fingers up Boromir's arm. "There are many things that do not leave
marks, pet,"
Boromir shivered and moved away. However, the elf was relentless, her
eyes fixed on the Gondorian, enjoying his nervousness and uncertainty
hidden behind his constant shield of bluster and arrogance.
"Aragorn still hesitates to take on his rightful position of king,
dear one," the she-elf continued softly, confident that she had his
full attention. "You will change his mind. By whatever means possible,"
Boromir eyed her. He already had a good idea what Aragorn's thoughts
were on the matter, most of them still being extreme reluctance and
irritancy. Not Gandalf nor Elrond had been able to change Aragorn's
feelings towards it, and the weight of time had been on their side.
"And what if he doesn't listen to me?" he said slowly.
"He will. You will ensure it," Arwen's voice was confident. "Use your
knowledge of Gondor to entice him. Use your body. I would say use your
intelligence, but then we really would be stretching your limitations,
wouldn't we." Her eyes fixed on him in amusement. Boromir scowled at
her, but contained his annoyance, conscious of their respective positions.
Arwen patted him again, deliberately slowly, emphasising her power before
leaving her seat and standing.
"Good boy. I expect excellent reports from you later."
"Otherwise..?" Boromir's eyes were steady on her. Arwen shrugged lightly,
beginning to make her way to the door.
"Well," she paused to glance back to Boromir, giving him a winning
smile. "that would be interesting to see, wouldn't it?"
The rooms where Haldir had agreed to meet were thankfully further away
from Aragorn's chambers than the original plans. Arwen covered the distance
swiftly, occasionally pausing to nod an acknowledgement to one of the
Rivendell elves whom she passed. She smiled grimly to herself. The joy
of leaving these lands would be too great to even contemplate. The benefits
where everyone knew your plans, your background, was far too highly
rated indeed.
"*How did it go*?" Arwen drifted into the agreed room, scanning the
surrounding briefly before returning her gaze back onto the aloof figure
of Haldir, who was sat calmly in one of the chairs. Haldir's expression
didn't change although Arwen was suddenly aware of a sense of satisfaction
from the elf that signified exactly how the mission went before Haldir
even spoke.
"*Perfectly*," the elf uncrossed his legs and stood up gracefully,
confirming Arwen's suspicions. However, now was not the time to consider
Haldir's arrogance. There were bigger things at play.
"*Where is the dagger?*" asked Arwen briskly, then paused at the even
more satisfied expression that faced her. Haldir smiled delicately and
rocked onto the balls of his feet briefly before moving back.
"*I'm glad to say I did a little better than that,*" he said easily.
Arwen's eyes narrowed.
"*And what does that mean, pray?*"
In answer, Haldir wandered towards the door and gently pushed it open.
Arwen studied him further then moved in order to be able to see clearly
into the adjoining room. There was a moment of silence as Arwen studied
the occupant, then slowly looked back at Haldir.
"*You appear to have obtained the younger son of the Steward of Gondor.
One explanation immediately springs to mind. Kindly provide me with
another,*"
"*You wished for leverage,*" Haldir was unrepentant. Arwen stared
at him silently.
"*You cannot kidnap a Captain of Gondor without consequences,*" the
she-elf's voice was deadly. Haldir raised an eyebrow delicately.
"*You cannot use him?*" he asked innocently.
"*I did not say that. I merely expressed concern,*" Arwen looked back
at the young man in irritation, who was watching them warily. A bright
silver chain was attached to his ankle.
"*We have him now*," replied Haldir, who cared not for political differences.
"*He is unharmed*."
Arwen walked forward, her sharp eyes on the human who seemed unable
to look away, a mouse to a snake. She stood over him, arms folded, her
eyes clearly showing her displeasure.
"*What does he know?*" she queried over her shoulder towards Haldir.
The elf shook his head.
"*Nothing,*"
Arwen glanced to him. "*Nothing overheard?*"
"*We have spoken in Sindarin throughout,*"
"*Ah.*" Arwen crouched by Faramir. "*then it will rely on whether he
can comprehend,*" She gently pushed a strand of hair behind the human's
ear, smiling coldly at Faramir's curious look at her. Her eyes narrowed
briefly as she concentrated all her power on reading the young man in
front of her; looking through the outside shield of fear and caution
to the man within.
"*Watch him carefully,*" she instructed, standing back up. Haldir rolled
his eyes.
"*He has calmed down. We have had no problems with him,*" The elf decided
against commenting about Faramir's earlier lapse. Since that point,
the man had attempted to please his captors at every point he could,
obeying any instruction thrown at him with a loyal obedience that Haldir
found appealing. His own lovers could learn a trick or two from this
little model prisoner, who had obviously managed to comprehend how completely
powerless he actually was.
In fact, Haldir had grudgingly accepted that this particular human
seemed to be more intelligent than the usual creatures that they encountered
within the woods. He also had a quite delightful submissive expression
that would have been entirely irresistible had the young man been elven.
But he wasn't. And that was that as far as Haldir was concerned.
"*He lies to you,*" Arwen said, her voice sure and completely confidence
in her assessment. Haldir snorted softly, but said nothing, folding
his arms.
"*Make sure he is subdued and restrained.*" Arwen ignored Haldir's
look of stubbornness and made her way towards the door. Haldir looked
back at the human who gave him a beseeching look, a whipped puppy. Deciding
that this order could wait for at least another five minutes, Haldir
followed Arwen from the room and shut the door sharply behind him.
"*You have not said how your side of things are going,*" the Lorien
elf stared at her. Arwen raised an eyebrow.
"*True.*" She agreed. Haldir sighed heavily and pointedly.
"*Shall I shall await your report later?*" he remarked dryly. Arwen
nodded.
"*That would be for the best, I feel. After all*," she smiled back
at him. "*I would hate to give you the wrong impression. Tasks are still
being fulfilled. But never fear, sweet Haldir. I will keep you informed.
You have my word.*"
The meeting was over and Aragorn was once again free to relax. The
ring bearer grew stronger each day, and soon it would be time for the
Fellowship to continue.
In the meantime, there were plenty of activities to be engaged in.
He wandered towards his chambers, considering whether to spend the time
practising his fighting or simply being with Boromir whilst they had
the chance. A slight smile crossed his lips at the thought of the Gondorian;
Arwen had been so right to encourage his feelings towards other men,
feelings that he had desperately fought down since his teenage years
whilst swimming naked with the young male elves of the land. And Boromir
invoked more feelings than any elf he had met, bar possibly Legolas
with his cool and aloof expression and gloriously smooth and pale body.
However, where Legolas was perfection, Boromir was all raw passion
and lust, seemingly knowing all of Aragorn's secret longings and desires
and performing them for him enthusiastically. Just the look of desire
flash through Boromir's deep green eyes could cause Aragorn to harden;
there had been more than one occasion where the ranger had resisted
the urge to throw the Gondorian across the nearest hard surface and
take him there and then.
Indeed, this particular situation had not passed Boromir's attention
either. The Gondorian had found a great level of amusement in tormenting
him, often smiling and murmuring suggestions to him in the most inappropriate
of places. A quick phrase before Aragorn had been due to speak to his
foster father had resulted in the quickest meeting ever, and Elrond
assuming that the chair Aragorn sat on was made of the hardest wood
known to Rivendell. That particular little amusement had cost Boromir
some of his dignity later that night as Aragorn had hoisted him across
his lap and walloped him several times on the backside. It had led to
one of the most passionate nights that Aragorn had ever encountered.
Aragorn still had not managed to work out what Arwen's motivations
were for Boromir's presence; the she-elf did not appear to be fond of
the man she had chosen to share her betrothed's bed, and she, a previously
jealous creature, apparently had managed to consider these passionate
scenes suitable. More often than not Arwen sat in with them during their
lovemaking, sitting quietly in one of the chairs and watching them intently.
Boromir never seemed to mind this, and often whispered jokes about hoping
his erection was stiff enough for her, or at the right angle.
Perhaps it was to ensure that he himself did not stray, strange as
it might seem, Aragon mused as he walked back to the room. Despite their
many years together, he had never slept with her, never once given in
to the urges his willpower and several hundred cold showers had managed
to suppress. Only at the point of their marriage would the urges be
recognised and allowed, and he was already at bursting point as it was.
On occasion she had encouraged him whilst he stroked himself, and the
memory of the satisfied look that crossed her face as he ejaculated
would always manage to get him hard immediately. Arwen enjoyed having
the power over him that made him weak as a kitten, not least because
it tended to cause him to agree to whatever she desired.
The ranger pushed open the door to the chamber, and glanced inside.
Boromir had managed to get the blankets back on the bed where they belonged,
and was curiously absent from the main chamber. His gaze took in the
Gondorian's clothes still on the chair where he had left them. Aragorn
shrugged to himself and investigated the bathing chambers, which proved
successful.
Boromir glanced over to him lazily from the bathtub as he entered,
sliding down into the waters briefly to soak his hair before sitting
up. Aragorn smiled to himself and wandered behind him, his hands resting
on Boromir's wet shoulders and beginning to massage them, his fingers
rubbing and easing the tension out. Boromir sighed contentedly and rested
against him, his eyes half closing.
"How did the meeting go?" he asked. Aragorn smiled and began to tease
Boromir's skin with the tips of his fingernails, enjoying the shiver
through the strong body.
"As well as can be expected. Frodo is getting stronger each day. Gandalf
believes we will be able to go within a week," Aragorn turned his attention
back to the muscles between the shoulder blades, gently rubbing.
"And what do you think?" Boromir relaxed even further.
"I will be happy to finally begin this journey, I think. However, there's
certain factors I will miss," Aragorn kissed the back of Boromir's neck.
"We will not be able to be obvious whilst with the Fellowship, for a
start,"
"Afraid we will scare off the hobbits?" Boromir grinned. Aragorn gave
him a friendly slap on the shoulder.
"Behave."
"Sorry, sire," Boromir's expression was cheekily meek. Aragorn frowned
at him.
"And don't call me sire either. I've told you that before," There was
another slap on the shoulder, harder. Boromir sulked slightly.
"Why not? You are my liege. No matter how hard you hit my shoulder,
you will still be that,"
"Hmmmm," Aragorn went back to massaging Boromir's shoulders. "Well,
stop calling me it. I will not be happy, and you can take that as a
warning, love."
Boromir pondered whether to push it any further. However, Aragorn's
tone was one that had a definite streak of iron through it. Better to
continue when his influence was stronger. Shifting away slightly so
Aragorn's hands fell from him, Boromir got out the bath and stretched
slightly, purposefully allowing Aragorn to watch him. Beads of water
ran down his back and pooled on the floor underneath his feet. He could
hear Aragorn's breath hitch behind him, the soft footfalls before the
firm grip on his waist, Aragorn pressing himself against the firm muscle
of his backside in a manner that left no doubt to the ranger's wishes.
Boromir glanced over his shoulder. "You ready again?" he teased. "Trying
to kill me, sire?"
He jerked forward at the hard stinging slap on his right buttock, a
surprised yelp issuing from his lips. The Gondorian glanced back uncertainly,
only to meet Aragorn's steady gaze.
"I told you already. Stop it." The ranger gave Boromir a little shove
to encourage him to the bed. Boromir gave him his best victimised expression,
then padded obediently towards the bed, running possibilities of the
best course of action through his mind. His buttock throbbed from where
the ranger had struck him, Aragorn apparently managing to have an incredible
aim even that close.
Jumping onto the bed and scooting to lie on his stomach, Boromir turned
to watch Aragorn strip off his clothing in a casual manner. The ranger
surveyed his lover lazily, knowing he had the rest of the day to enjoy
whatever he felt like doing.
Boromir watched him thoughtfully. "You going to do anything or are
you just going to stand there?" he queried after a sizable pause.
"Bloody impatient bastard," replied Aragorn cheerfully.
"Damn right." Boromir yawned widely and pointedly, grinning back at
Aragorn. The ranger rolled his eyes and wandered over to the bed, running
his hand down the length of Boromir's body and giving him a friendly
pat on the rear.
"So, what? You want it hard and fast again?"
"You mean there's a different way?" Boromir feigned mock surprise,
then shook his head. "I'm willing to do whatever you want, Aragorn.
"
Aragorn continued to trail his hand over Boromir's back; now his hand
was on him it seemed extremely reluctant to depart from the velvet softness
of the younger man's skin. Boromir was still slightly damp from the
bath, although most of the moisture had apparently escaped to the bed.
Boromir's hair was dark and mostly slicked back, apart from one or two
peaks which stuck up in interesting angles and made him look younger
than ever, the darker hair colouration only serving to bring out the
startling green-grey of his eyes.
The Gondorian had gone quiet, simply enjoying the gentle touch of Aragorn's
hands over his body with the occasionally satisfied sigh and brief tremble
as a hand graced a ticklish spot.
"So I couldn't tempt you with slow and easy?" purred Aragorn, paying
more attention to the ticklish spots. Boromir shivered again, shifting
slightly to try and move Aragorn's touch to safer areas. He failed.
The ranger stepped up the gentle attack.
"I don't do slow," grumbled Boromir.
"But I do," reminded Aragorn.
"Yes, si- uh, Aragorn." Boromir managed to stop himself before the
sentence was finished, conscious of the hard stare aimed at him. The
ranger stared at him a moment longer, his hand stilling, then finally
continued. Boromir sighed to himself. If he couldn't even say sire without
Aragorn getting uptight, the chances were that a full blown out discussion
was definitely out. Or at least a sensible one anyway. The future was
looking loud and argumentative already.
The bed dipped slightly as the ranger moved onto it, straddling Boromir's
lower half and sitting on his thighs gently, the majority of the weight
still held by his own legs. He began to gently massage the Gondorian's
back in earnest, pushing his thumbs into hard muscle and easing out
the tension and the knots. Boromir sighed again contentedly and rested
his head on his folded arms, feeling Aragorn kneed his way between his
shoulder blades. It felt deliciously and dangerously good.
There was also a real danger of Boromir falling asleep after such a
thorough massage.
A little nudge upwards with his legs silently showed Boromir's impatience
to speed things along. Aragorn swatted at him, and continued with his
caresses.
"You can't have everything you want in life, Boromir," he said sternly.
"Occasionally, just occasionally, you have to do what someone else wants,"
Boromir said nothing to this, trying hard not to think of the task
he was set to do. Whilst he was otherwise concentrating, there was the
briefest pop of a lid and suddenly Boromir almost arched off the bed
as a finger was suddenly pushed into him and began to explore his passage
without a by-your-leave.
"What happened to patience?!" he panted, suddenly focusing on the single
digit currently inside him, circling happily. Aragorn shrugged.
"I got bored,"
Boromir groaned, allowing his head to fall back down onto his arms
and relaxing his body once again at the now familiar invasion. His own
erection was pressed hard against the bed, his body occasionally making
a circular motion to try and get a little friction without Aragorn noticing.
He noticed. Suddenly a little more weight was applied.
"You're going to crush me," complained Boromir lightly, reluctantly
giving up with his subtle bid for relief.
"At some point," agreed Aragorn.
"That wasn't entirely what I meant. Anyway-" Boromir had to stop at
the insertion of another finger, this one greedier than the last, seemingly
intent on exploring every inch that it could reach. The younger man
whimpered as Aragorn gently scissoring his fingers inside him, pushing
back onto them as Aragorn hesitated, not certain whether it was a good
whimper or bad.
Leaning up Boromir's body, his fingers still working, Aragorn nuzzled
the man's neck, pushing aside his auburn hair and trailing his tongue
across Boromir's ear lobe.
"First of all I'm going to touch you," murmured Aragorn in the lightest
of whispers, a manner he had developed from the elves, knowing how turned
on Boromir got by hearing his plans. "Just enough to get you squirming,
trying to get more contact, begging me to continue. And then," he paused
to trace his tongue over Boromir's ear delicately. "I'm going to lick
you, slowly, open you up further. And you won't be allowed to move or
speak, just focus on what I'm doing to you."
He smiled to himself at Boromir's light noise of approval, the faintest
shift of the hips underneath Aragorn's body as the Gondorian subconsciously
ground his groin into the bed, seeking relief.
"And then," he murmured again, his fingers gently flickering over Boromir's
entrance in a frustrating but incredibly good way. "just at the point
where you're begging me to take you, to allow you to come," Aragorn
kissed Boromir's neck, feeling the man tremble underneath him. "I'll
show a little mercy."
"How about a little mercy now?" groaned the younger man. Aragorn
cocked his head to one side as though actually considering this.
"No." he said finally and cheerfully, finger slowing its movements
even further. Boromir groaned in response, his eyes shut, breathing
already hard and irregular. Aragorn's weight was pressed firmly upon
him, fighting Boromir's attempts to speed things up with an annoying
success rate. Finally, the Gondorian gave up, sighing in submission.
The ranger shifted his weight, sliding down to rest between the man's
legs. He could still feel the tremble of the younger man, could just
see how Boromir's hand was curled up, clutching the bedding whilst trying
so hard to behave. Aragorn smiled to himself again and gently moved
into position, Boromir suddenly completely still, his breath becoming
short and fast as he waited for the move he knew was coming.
Anticipation. one of the sadly ignored seduction techniques, thought
Aragorn to himself. Although it worked much better on a human than an
elf. Elves had the patience to withstand it. Men didn't even come close.
His breath was warm on Boromir's skin, the feel of which was making
the warrior ruin all the results of the previous massage, tension back
in force. The ranger could feel the muscles under his hand, taut and
waiting. He grinned again and leant forward, lapping at the man gently.
The reaction was electric; Boromir's back arched at the contact, all
the more delicious for being made to wait, the Gondorian managing to
bite back any curses towards it. Aragorn continued to tease him with
the very tip of his tongue, circling, flickering, never breaching the
muscle. Boromir groaned aloud at the gentle torment, his body shaking
already.
"Aragorn.," he complained after too long waiting. Aragorn's tongue
immediately slowed, grey-blue eyes surveying Boromir's back in interest,
seeing what the younger man would do. Boromir cursed himself and shut
up again, a low growl in his throat. After a few moments, the ranger
gently pushed inside of him with his tongue as reward. Boromir clenched
the bedding tighter in his fist, swearing under his breath, trying to
stop his immediate response of pushing Aragorn deeper into him.
Tongue delving deeper, Aragorn began in earnest, his hands gripping
Boromir's flanks harder as he focused on his task. The younger man writhed
underneath him, trying to encourage him as much as possible without
accidentally shaking him off, whimpering his frustrations softly as
Aragorn gently tongued fucked him.
"Aragorn . please..," gasped Boromir.
Get on with it, thought Aragorn dryly, who was well aware of how his
lover thought by now. Resisting giving his lover a quick slap on the
buttock for that little breach of etiquette, Aragorn released him suddenly,
moving back. Boromir immediately went quiet, waiting eagerly, knowing
that any interruption or demand would simply drag things out.
However, Aragorn was not in the mood to drag things out either. His
own erection ached with a passion and a steady throb burned in his groin
to the extent that it was difficult to distinguish whether it was pain
or pleasure. He positioned himself against Boromir, running his nails
lightly across delicate skin, before plunging into him.
Boromir gasped loudly, arching his back once more and pushing back
on him, rising to the challenge that his king had set. Aragorn allowed
him a moment to adjust to the feeling before beginning to move again,
growing in speed and power steadily, hearing the steady slap of skin
on skin intermixed by Boromir's groans. He could feel the Gondorian's
influence, trying to get him to speed up already. The younger man seemed
to have a thing for it, and it normally took all of Aragorn's willpower
to get to a position he was happy with.
Aragorn pulled Boromir closer to him, trying to adjust the angle, conscious
of Boromir already stroking himself roughly in time with Aragorn's thrusts.
A shocked cry told him he had managed to hit the right spot, Boromir
almost sobbing his pleasure. With a smug smile, Aragorn repeated his
action, scratching his nails across Boromir's right buttock hard in
time with it. Overloaded with sensation, the younger man cried out again;
Aragorn felt the tale-tale sign of muscles clenching, Boromir shaking
underneath him violently, as the younger man came, collapsing spent
on the bed. It was too much for his own willpower to overcome, Aragorn
immediately following the same way as his lover, coming with a loud
and strong cry.
Falling to one side of his lover, Aragorn looked at him fondly and
tiredly, a hand running through Boromir's hair as they both tried to
catch up on the air they had missed. The Gondorian had a satisfied and
sleepy expression on his face, immediately nuzzling up to Aragorn, his
gentle kisses working their way up his neck.
"You," said Aragorn affectionately. "have a surprising level of volume
when you put your mind to it. An elf would never reach that sort of
capacity for noise."
"I'm not an elf," yawned Boromir, eying the relaxed expression of his
lover thoughtfully. "And neither are you," he added after a pause. "Thankfully,"
Aragorn raised an eyebrow at him, lazily reclining back against the
bed and pulling Boromir closer. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
he queried casually. "You wouldn't like me if I was an elf? Is that
it?"
"No." Boromir hesitated again, and pushed forwards, knowing that the
advantage would slip away without forward progress. "I just don't think
Gondor is ready for an elven king," He tried this in the most casual
tone he possessed.
He could feel Aragorn stiffen in his arms.
"After all, you will be claiming your throne soon, and I thought.,"
Boromir trailed off uncertainly.
"You thought, did you?" Aragorn's tone was almost pure ice. "How much
of this have you considered?"
Boromir could feel the hostile posture and felt entirely helpless.
He longed to withdraw, could feel the losing battle, but Arwen expected
progress. She wanted reports. So he pressed on with a sinking heart.
"It's in your blood, Aragorn. Surely it is calling out to you? Gondor
needs its king,"
And it was at this point that Aragorn's patience fully snappe
Part 3: Power
Haldir had been watching the young Gondorian for some time now. Faramir
had spent the first hour curled up in the corner, just watching the
doorway warily as if expecting a rampaging beast to charge through at
any point. After that, the young man had relaxed, especially as he had
noticed Haldir's attention upon him. Seemingly finding this comforting
to him, the posture had loosened, and now Faramir stood, occasionally
pacing the few steps the ankle chain allowed him, occasionally staring
back at Haldir in curiosity.
The elf, who was used to patience, studied the young man in silence.
He had some admirable qualities for a human, most noticeably his ability
to keep his tongue under control. He was as all humans were, rough around
the edges, but this particular boy had a .. well, a delicate aspect
of his features. His eyes, luminous, seemed unable to decide whether
they were green or blue, and were often wide and surprisingly expressive.
All in all, a most curious child.
Haldir gracefully got to his feet and obtained a glass of water, walking
into the chamber and watching in satisfaction as the human sank gracefully
to his knees, looking up at his captor. If he didn't know better, he
would have assumed that someone had already trained this particular
boy in acts of submission, although discipline by the humans was usually
lax. The elf paused for a moment and passed the human the glass of water,
watching him carefully.
Faramir carefully drank all that had been given to him, and passed
the glass back, making sure not to make eye contact with the elf, clearly
expecting him to leave as soon as possible. To his surprise, Haldir
stayed.
"How are you feeling?"
Faramir couldn't stop himself from looking up in shock and surprise.
Haldir smiled to himself, and patted the Gondorian on the head. Faramir
didn't object , his eyes fixed on him in confusion before returning
his gaze to the floor in Denethor's preferred submissive pose.
"I am fine, thank you," he replied.
Haldir traced his hand down to Faramir's shoulder briefly, before removing
his hand entirely from the boy's body. It would not do to be too familiar.
Mortals occasionally made good pets but that was as far as it should
be allowed to go, unless no other source of pleasure was available.
Faramir made a little sighing noise and kept his eyes down. Haldir
nodded to himself. Good little serf.
"Are you hungry?" the elf got back to other matters. Faramir shook
his head, ignoring the fact that his stomach begged to differ. Haldir
eyed him.
"I cannot have you fainting on me. I will fetch you something,"
Faramir nodded his acceptance and watched carefully as Haldir left
the room to fetch some bread, his eyes immediately transforming from
obedience back to the hard cold stare, a smile flickering at the corner
of his mouth. He had no qualms about using anything that would give
him an advantage over the powerful elves, anything that might give him
the chance for escape. The reasoning behind his capture was still sketchy,
although it appeared to be political in nature. No doubt someone had
made a miscalculation in exactly what Denethor would do to get his youngest
son back to him. He doubted whether his father would even spare a horse.
The elf was back swiftly, carrying some bread and cheese. Faramir looked
meekly at him as Haldir crouched beside him and passed him some bread,
glaring at him sternly until the young man began to eat it.
"When will you let me go?" Faramir kept his voice deliberately timid,
his eyes on the floor. The elf paused, uncertain himself.
"When everything has been concluded. Do not ask any further questions,
young one."
Faramir fell silent immediately and began to eat the bread, keeping
his eyes to the floor in the way that the man was certain Haldir liked.
He was becoming encouraged by his position, hard though it was . The
elf had decided that he alone would look after the well-being of his
captive, sending his brothers to seek pleasures elsewhere. The elf's
hand lingered whenever he touched the young ranger, although it appeared
that further encouragement would be needed to get the hand any further
down his body than his upper arm.
He could sense Haldir's eyes on him, knowing without looking that the
elf would be carefully studying him, as though completely fascinated.
Faramir had not spent time in any significant period with the elves,
but knew enough to grasp that perhaps his future treatment might not
be as bad as previously imagined.
Now all he needed to do was get some information.
"Are we in Lothlorien?" he asked quietly. Haldir paused for a long
period of time, to the extent that Faramir doubted whether he was going
to answer.
"No ."
"Then we are in Mirkwood?" the ranger hazarded a guess in his best
timid voice, noting immediately Haldir's sniff of disapproval at the
name. Obviously Mirkwood was not a favourite. If this was correct, however,
then possibly they were at Rivendell, although Faramir understood that
even less. The elves favoured the men of Gondor little, but still Lord
Elrond of Rivendell was unlikely to stoop to such lows, even if it was
for no reason other than a recognition of which son would be the most
suitable to kidnap.
Which son. Boromir had left for Rivendell, and they had not heard anything
from him for some time. Faramir felt a cold stab of fear in his heart.
Perhaps they had chosen to take both brothers captive to persuade his
father to do whatever it was that they desired. Perhaps the recovery
of the ring itself was a myth, the magic of the elves affecting his
dreams in order to give some further strength to their fiction.
Faramir shivered uncomfortably, trying to stop his imagination from
running away with him. Even if they had Boromir, they would not have
done anything to him. Their father's rage would be far-reaching.
Haldir noticed the shiver and frowned at the human. "Are you cold?"
Faramir broke off his thoughts and stared at him in puzzlement, remembering
at the last minute to keep his eyes on the ground.
"No ." He thought about it, and pressed forward cautiously, recognising
the possibility. "A little too warm, if anything,"
"Hmmmm,"
Faramir felt the elf's hand on his forehead, running his hand down
the young man's face in obvious assessment of any fever. Haldir narrowed
his eyes in concentration.
"You do not feel too hot, young one," he said finally. "Perhaps it
is merely the lack of better fresh air.You feel well?"
"Yes sir," Faramir glanced towards him out of the corner of his eye,
and swiftly returned his gaze to the floor. "Would . would it be possible
for me to take off my tunic to cool off, please?"
There was another silence so solid that Faramir could feel it, the
mortal wondering whether he had pushed too far too soon, misjudged his
target. The elf stared at him, his eyes running over Faramir's form
then back to study what little he could see of his face, vowing to trim
the young man's somewhat unruly auburn locks when he was able to allow
him a little more consideration.
"I do not see why not," he said finally, a slightly gruff edge to his
voice. Faramir hesitated long enough to give the impression of modesty,
before pulling off the somewhat ragged tunic which, together with his
breeches, had been the only pieces of clothing that the elves had allowed
him. He rolled the light tunic in his hands briefly, keeping his head
down to allow the elf to view him without concern to whether the prisoner
was watching.
"Thank you," he said quietly, giving the elf another quick glance from
the corner of his eye. He was pleased to note the concentration on Haldir's
face as he stared at the young form in front of him, carefully ensuring
that it was his side rather than his back that Haldir focused upon.
However ..
"What happened to your back?" the elf had noticed the marks earlier
than Faramir had anticipated, but this was not really a problem. The
young man put a look of brief look of anguish on his face, and stared
down at the floor even harder. His scars would testify to the likelihood
of his submission, suitable evidence to use in his favour. Occasionally
his father did him a few favours in life, although certainly Faramir
had not felt the same when these particular 'favours' were being inflicted.
Haldir shifted from his position to take a better look, Faramir almost
jumping as he felt the elf's hand run gently across the raised scars
that littered his lower back.
"I fear I did not please my father at times," Faramir mumbled in explanation.
The hand stopped.
"Your father did these?" There was a definitely an element of surprise
to the elf's voice but nothing resembling revulsion as the subject occasionally
did. "Why?"
Faramir hesitated. No one had ever asked that before, preferring to
stay well clear of such a sensitive subject. Not even Boromir asked,
normally having been present at many of the beginning arguments and
often having risked punishment by trying to steer their father's anger
from Faramir onto himself.
"Just punishments for failures," he said finally , quietly.
"Which failures?" Haldir had continued to gently touch the scars, even
more fascinated than before, his voice unashamedly interested. Faramir
blinked, and tried to remember. There had been so many to choose from.
"Many things. Mostly inadequacies in the field .. Failing to live up
to expectations," Faramir was beginning to feel a little more exposed
than he had intended. "That sort of thing,"
"Like?" Haldir pressed. "Give me some examples,"
Faramir looked up in surprise, then remembered himself.
"Uh . Missing the centre of a target when my father was trying to impress
a diplomat... accidentally causing my brother's horse to rear during
a hunting trip and causing him to fall." Faramir shrugged slightly.
"Answering back."
The hand drifted over the scars again. "Exactly what did you say to
cause these?" Haldir mused. "Or are you keeping the more important
ones quiet?"
Faramir shifted uncomfortably, and not only down to keeping up his
good little servant appearance. He had managed to get through the majority
of his life without focusing on this sort of thing, concentrating rather
on how to deal and survive. Analysing things just wasn't advisable.
"Well ?" the elf continued. Faramir bowed his head a little more,
mind working furiously. Any more of this and he was just going to list
every single time, every single little thing that had managed to annoy
his father to the extent that the cane was picked up.
"I .. ," Faramir shook his head. Haldir trailed his hand over
Faramir's shoulder as he moved back to his original position.
"Interesting ,"
Faramir's eyes slid to him curiously, but the ranger said nothing further.
With any luck the topic of conversation was moving on, despite the elf's
obvious interest in the matter. Haldir watched him back, his face still
impassive, seemingly completely devoid of either disgust or sympathy.
It was certainly a novel experience.
"Does your father beat your brother?" As though discussing something
as trivial as the weather.
Faramir waited for a few heartbeats before replying. "No."
"I see." The elf delicately sat down, crossing his legs before him
and turning his unwavering attention back onto Faramir. The young ranger
began to wish he had stripped his breeches at the start and been done
with it. Nothing physical was likely to reach the same level of embarrassment
as this careful studying. "Doesn't that annoy you?"
"Annoy me?" Faramir blinked and looked at him. "I don't understand,"
"Really? You surprise me. From what I know of your brother, he seems
the type to make mistakes on occasion . I believe you refer to it as
' only being human'," Haldir shrugged to indicate his views of this
particular oddity. "And yet your father does not seem to care. Why would
this be?"
"My brother does not make mistakes," Faramir had to fight to keep the
growl out of his voice. "He is a good man."
"Oh, undoubtedly. However, even good men occasionally make the wrong
decisions, even with the best of intentions." Haldir brushed a small
piece of dust off his knee.
"Boromir isn't like that,"
"Really ? How delightful! You can not think of anything he has misjudged,
anything he's lied about, or any instance when he has undertaken anything
foolhardy." Haldir paused delicately. "Has this man actually lived?
He seems incredibly dull,"
Faramir was silent, fighting the frown that he knew was crossing his
face but powerless to resist. He could be analysed all they liked, could
be poked and petted, harassed and abused, but Boromir was definitely
out of bounds. The elf seemed to realise the depth of Faramir's determination
as he raised an eyebrow and gently put his hand under Faramir's chin,
raising the young man's head to face him.
"Does your reluctance to answer mean that he might well have flaws?"
"Boromir pleases my father," Faramir said stubbornly. Haldir's other
eyebrow was raised.
"In what way?" he purred.
Faramir stared at him, horrified. "Not like that!" he said, appalled.
"Just .. he knows how to make my father happy, what to do, how to speak."
Haldir watched him for a few more moments. "And that's all it is, is
it? How to act and how to speak? You seem a bright boy. How is it that
you have not learnt your brother's techniques? Unless," the elf shrugged
lightly. "there are other factors at play,"
Faramir glowered at him, then remembered himself and stared back at
the floor. There was a sigh from the elf, who swiftly replaced his hand
and lifted the young man's head again.
"This could get repetitive after a while," he said sternly.
"Sorry," Faramir mumbled. The elf watched him.
"What are you thinking?"
"That I should have just put up with the heat," the words came out
before he could stop them. Faramir looked startled at himself, and then
worriedly at Haldir. Haldir stared at him for a moment longer, then
chuckled to himself, patting the young man on the head absent-mindedly.
"Eat something more. I'm sure we can cover the rest later."
Faramir sighed to himself as he attacked another slice of bread. No
doubt later would not be late enough.
"I cannot believe you!" Aragorn was furious, angrier than Boromir had
ever dreamed he could be. His eyes flashed, hands formed into his fists
as he stared at his lover. The Gondorian slid from the bed and stood
facing him, back straight, ready for anything Aragorn had to throw his
way.
"Aragorn, please. I didn't mean any offence, I just wanted to-"
"Yes , I know what you wanted to do!" snapped the ranger. "I told
you I didn't want to discuss it and what do you do? You try and blackmail
me by using sex! Give me a bit of credit, please!"
Boromir stared at him mournfully, noticing the fact that Aragorn was
still very much agitated, the tension solid. Fire flashed deeply in
Aragorn's eyes.
"I'm sorry, it won't happen again," Boromir tried, knowing in his heart
that he was lying through his teeth. Arwen wanted this conversation
to take place, and take place it would do. Failure was not an option
Aragorn snorted his disbelief.
"Is that what it was always about? The Throne of Gondor?" Aragorn stared
at him. "You whored yourself out for that?"
Boromir was stung by the accusation. "Of course not!"
"There's no 'of course' about it, Boromir! You persist in asking me
questions I don't want to discuss and then you withdraw your affections!"
"That's not the situation!" Boromir tried to step forward but Aragorn's
glare was enough to keep him pinned to the spot. The Gondorian swallowed
nervously, and tried a different tack. "Please Aragorn, don't do this-"
"Do what? If you want someone to blame, look at yourself," snarled
Aragorn, grabbing hold of his clothing and roughly putting it on. Boromir
watched him anxiously.
"Please -" He didn't care if he was begging any more. Without Aragorn's
presence, he could not hope to obtain what Arwen wished, and without
Aragorn's protection .. Boromir shivered and watched him unhappily as
the ranger opened the door to the chamber, gave him one last contemptuous
look and marched out, slamming the door behind him.
The room seemed desperately, painfully empty. The silence was deafening.
It took Boromir a few moments to move. Finally he shook his head and
sat back on the bed, lying down and staring at the ceiling, knowing
he had failed. The fact that he had obviously hurt Aragorn weighed heavily
on his mind as well, hating himself for handling it so badly. He groaned
miserably and rolled over in the bed, burying his head in the pillow,
trying to block out the rest of the room.
He glanced up hopefully as the door shut again. "Aragorn?"
"Not quite," Arwen stared back at him. Boromir stared at her, the perfect
end to a perfect day, and slumped back down in the pillow again.
"He won't talk to me," he said, muffled. Arwen gave a little tut tut
noise and walked towards the bed.
"You're obviously not trying hard enough."
"I am! But I just upset him." Boromir looked forlorn. "I'm no good
at this sort of thing,"
"I hope for your brother's sake that you get better," replied Arwen
briskly. Boromir lifted his head from the pillow slowly and stared at
her, his concern for Aragorn being replaced by wary anger.
Arwen smiled sweetly at him and threw down the little dagger taken
from Faramir's belt onto the bed. Boromir's eyes widened as he recognised
the little sheath. Picking it up with shaking hands, he pulled the little
dagger free to stare numbly at the rough engraving he had done himself.
He had given Faramir this knife for his fifteenth birthday and his little
brother had worn it ever since. Boromir stared at it for a moment longer,
before slowly returning his gaze to the she-elf who watched him in curious
detachment.
"Well ?" she said finally. "Are you going to improve?"
"What have you done with him?" Boromir's voice was unsteady, fear mixed
with raw aggression, the Gondorian pushing himself up as though planning
to spring at the elf. Arwen watched him unconcerned.
"He is unharmed." She shrugged delicately. "For now."
"If you harm him in any way- "growled the Gondorian. Arwen laughed,
a light tinkling sound in the chamber.
"You'll do what?" she asked in genuine amusement. "You try and do
anything to me, my associates - yes I have associates - will simply
take it out on the boy. And he is such a sweet looking thing, is he
not?" She smiled sweetly. Boromir felt sick to his stomach.
"You wouldn't.," he tried to keep the desperation out of his voice.
Arwen nodded.
"I can assure you I would. I would gain no pleasure out of it myself.
However, I am sure this probably wouldn't be the same for everyone,"
Boromir stared at her silently. Arwen perched herself on the bed and
rested her hands on her knees delicately.
"And let me give you a little more persuasion. You fail again, it will
be taken out on your little brother. I will allow my associates free
reign to do whatever they want. And you," she stared at him. "will watch.
Do you understand?"
Boromir swallowed, then nodded. Arwen smiled in satisfaction.
"Good boy." She stood up to leave.
"How do I know that he is unharmed?" Boromir's voice seemed so very
quiet in the large room, the Gondorian sounding utterly defeated. "
That you have not already killed or raped him?"
The she-elf paused, and glanced back at him coldly. "I have said he
is. Do you doubt my word, boy?"
Boromir glared at her, obviously mistrusting, but finally shook his
head as the obvious answer that was expected. Arwen studied him thoughtfully.
"I will take you to see him tonight." She decided finally. There was
a glimmer of hope within the Gondorian's eyes as he stared at her. Arwen
smiled to herself. There was nothing so persuasive than hope to the
mortal men.
"Aragorn , he. he's not happy," Boromir's eyes pleaded with her for
some leniency. "I don't think I can push it until he's calmed down,"
Arwen considered this. "I shall speak to him. Perhaps your failure
may not have been entirely pointless." She replied. "Stay here and get
this place cleaned up."
She found him in the garden as she knew she would, pacing very near
to his mother's grave. This was where he always retreated to when he
was hurt and upset, a lonely silent place that was only breached by
the lonely sound of a songbird. Arwen watched him for a few moments
before speaking softly.
"What has he done?"
Aragorn glanced towards her, unconcerned and unsurprised by her presence,
and continued to pace, glaring towards the forest as though it and it
alone held the source of his misery.
"Who ?" he said finally over his shoulder. Arwen tracked his progress
with her eyes.
"You are aware of whom, sweet one. Boromir." She smiled gently. "Who
else has the power to get you quite so upset?" And upset he was. Boromir
had not been exaggerating when he spoke of the mess he had made of the
task. Aragorn looked ready to attack, to explode, to take on the forces
of Mordor by himself and damn the consequences.
The ranger snorted. "The usual," he growled finally. "Failure to shut
up when ordered,"
Arwen looked quizzically at him. "Why, what has he said?"
Aragorn stared at her briefly, before moving back to his pacing. "He
wants me to claim the throne of Gondor," he replied bitterly.
"I see," Arwen was neutral.
"He knew damn well not to talk about it, but he completely disobeyed
me," continued Aragorn, completely furious. Arwen calmly brushed off
a leaf that had fallen onto her dress.
"I confess myself surprised," she said slowly. "Boromir is heir to
the Stewardship of Gondor. Without a king, this would essentially prove
him to rule all of the province. Why would he wish you to take it?"
She pondered deliberately, her eyes resting on Aragorn who thankfully
was too upset to watch her. "Unless. no," she shook her head. ".. it
cannot be,"
Aragorn stopped and turned to face her, a frown forming. "Cannot be
what?" his voice was unsteady.
"No , it is unlikely. Forget I said anything," Arwen looked apologetic.
Aragorn shook his head determinately.
"No, I wish to hear. What do you suspect?" his voice was urgent. Arwen
sighed regretfully and shrugged her shoulders delicately.
"Did he know your reaction to his queries before he asked?" she queried.
Aragorn nodded crossly, folding his arms.
"Well, of course. I'd just finished telling him about it."
"And presumably you are now even more determined not to take the throne
of Gondor .?" Arwen looked at him through her long lashes. Aragorn stood
thunderstruck at the implications. The possibility of his lover's betrayal
flickered agonisingly across his expression.
"But .. that cannot be .," the ranger was completely shocked, vulnerable.
"He would not .,"
"You are right," nodded Arwen. "There has to be a more plausible explanation.
Somewhere. Perhaps he is eager for you to take over .. I understand
his father is somewhat harsh and becoming unstable. That's probably
the reason,"
But by Aragorn's expression it was clear he was focusing on the first
explanation, the memories of Boromir's declaration that Gondor needed
no king, his previous disgust of Aragorn, flickering through the ranger's
mind. Arwen smiled to herself as the ranger's hands closed slowly into
fists.
"I'll kill him," he growled.
"Seems a little extreme, my love," Arwen, although not Boromir's greatest
fan, still did not wish for him to be so greatly inconvenienced. "Although
you could show your displeasure. He always did boast how he could get
away with everything and anything," she said sadly.
"Did he now," Aragorn was speaking through gritted teeth. Arwen raised
her eyebrows.
"What are you planning to do?"
"Teach him a damn lesson for a start. If he wants me to take control,
so be it."
"And Gondor?" Arwen's voice was lightness itself.
Aragorn nodded grimly. "We'll see,"
Boromir looked up in surprise as Aragorn stalked through the door,
immediately shifting himself to slide off the bed in greeting. However,
it was the expression on Aragorn's face that stopped him, the Gondorian
regarding the impassive expression warily.
"Aragorn ?" he said softly. He almost recoiled at the look of anger
that was aimed at him in response.
"So it's Aragorn now is it? Not sire?" Aragorn's voice was heavy with
sarcasm. Boromir sat stunned in the face of such hatred, worried expression
turned towards the ranger.
"What would you prefer?" his voice was so much quieter than usual.
The arrogance had completely vanished. Aragorn snorted.
"It's a bit late for the innocent routine, Boromir."
This sounded bad. Boromir cleared his throat nervously.
"Innocent routine?" he echoed.
"And don't repeat everything like a bloody parrot!" Aragorn folded
his arms. Boromir was again aware how powerful the man was who stood
in front of him, the sheer power he possessed. The younger man fidgeted
uncomfortably, aware of the irritation aimed directly at him and at
a loss on how to stop it
"Aragorn , I'm really sorry I upset you." Worried eyes looked at him
anxiously. "That wasn't my intention. If there is anything I can do
to make it up-"
"Yes ."
"Yes?" Boromir was cut short, baffled and nervous. Aragorn smiled at
him grimly, then started to remove his belt slowly from his waist. The
Gondorian's eyes followed the movement in apprehension, only returning
to stare at Aragorn horrified as the ranger tested the weight of the
belt in his hand. Aragorn stared back steadily, no trace of his lover
still remaining past the anger.
"Aragorn , please, you don't want to do this-" Boromir felt his mouth
dry up.
"Don't I? I rather think I do," Aragorn smiled at him again. It was
not a nice smile. Boromir shuffled slightly further back as Aragorn
walked closer to the bed, the belt folded and ready in his hand.
"I'm really sorry!" Boromir knew he was pleading but couldn't help
himself, his eyes flickering from belt to Aragorn's face, trying to
get past the anger, the control. Apart from the occasional smack with
the palm of a hand, he had never suffered a proper beating like his
brother; his father had never allowed it, choosing to discipline his
elder son in a more merciful way than he treated his younger son. Boromir
occasionally had nightmares about the state of his younger brother after
these punishments, the fact that he had been able to do nothing about
it except help him through the recovery.
"I thought you would do whatever your king requested of you," Aragorn's
voice continued dangerously. The Gondorian found he had nothing to say
to this, his heart racing in his chest, demonstrating his own anxiety
in case he was in any doubt of how frightened he was, regardless of
how straight his back and how steady his gaze.
"Boromir . Get over here now."
Boromir looked wretched, but finally moved himself to lie where Aragorn
wanted him. A thin trickle of sweat ran over his back as he rested himself
on his stomach, hands already clenching the blanket underneath him.
"I might have guessed your motivations would be for your kingdom rather
than anything else," Aragorn had completely lost control of his anger.
There was no point in even trying to deny the accusation, such words
more likely to infuriate him further. Boromir simply closed his eyes
and wished himself back in the safety of Minas Tirith.
The ranger hesitated for a moment, his eyes surveying the naked back
that was presented to him. Boromir's backside was smooth and unmarked,
waiting for his first blow, the man's shoulders faintly trembling already.
Aragorn fought through his hesitation angrily. What had he thought would
have happened? Surely the man did not think he could get away with this?
The sound of the door opening stopped the first blow. Aragorn glanced
over his shoulder as the door shut behind the she-elf who had entered.
Her gaze fell on the Gondorian on the bed, and then rested back on the
ranger.
"I hope I am not intruding?"
At her voice, Boromir rested his forehead even further on the bed,
groaning to himself. There was no possible escape now. Arwen would ensure
that Aragorn's rage would continue until Boromir's back was a bloody
mess.
"I thought you were busy," Aragorn's sharp tone. Arwen shrugged lightly
again, her eyes flickering back to Boromir, assessing how far Aragorn
had got.
"I thought you needed support," her eyes came back onto him. "Does
he deny it?"
"Yes, although he continues to apologise for any upset,"
"And so he should!" Arwen settled herself in one of the nearby chairs.
"An abuse of your relationship and trust,"
Boromir closed his eyes again and prayed. Aragorn's eyes narrowed again,
turning back to Boromir and surveying him quietly before taking a firm
grip on the belt, feeling the anger rise within him. The sound of the
belt striking the Gondorian's buttocks was deafening in the room, a
firm, loud crack. Boromir struggled to keep quiet, his hands gripping
the blanket so hard it ripped slightly, his bottom lip bitten to avoid
crying out in front of the she-elf.
The next blow made him rip the blanket still further. Tears came to
his eyes, and a hiss of pain escaped from his lips, the burning pain
seemingly reaching to his knees and up his back.
From that point on it was increasingly difficult to keep quiet, his
full concentration needed after the flurry of blows. Finally Aragorn
heard a whimper, defeated, pained, the man's shoulders shaking even
more. The next blow was noticeably lighter, although by this point a
feather could have caused agonies. Boromir cried out weakly again, uncaring
whether Arwen was still in the room or not.
Aragorn hesitated, the belt drooping in his hand. Bright red welts
criss-crossed the man's lower back and buttocks, one or two having drawn
blood. He could see how deeply Boromir was breathing, the helpless trembling
of the man who had often trembled underneath him for completely different
reasons.
Arwen had noticed the indecision and leant forward. "Don't let him
fool you," she advised. Aragorn stared forlornly at his lover.
"Perhaps he has learnt his lesson,"
"Perhaps," Arwen's voice displayed how likely she thought the suggestion.
Boromir took a few more deep breaths before speaking unsteadily.
"If you still believe that I have done what you suspect," he said softly
and wavering. "then continue. I will not resist."
"You are his king. It is your right to take what you want," Arwen's
eyes were fixed upon him. Aragorn shook his head, his rage spent.
"But I do not want this," he said softly.
"Some things in life are necessary rather than pleasant,"
Aragorn put his hand gently on Boromir's hip. The man flinched underneath
him, his breath hitched. He could feel the trembling through his fingertips.
The belt hit the floor.
"No." the ranger sat beside him. "He has suffered enough."
Arwen rose from her chair, looking at him thoughtfully. "I hope you
do not have any difficulties with him."
"They would be my difficulties, not yours," Aragorn looked at her firmly,
then rested his hand on Boromir's head, gently touching his hair. And
it was this gentle touch, the sympathy, that caused Boromir to finally
cry softly; Faramir had always told him that the pain of the punishment
itself was nothing to the sheer relief of its completion, knowing that
that blow was the last, and that sympathies were offered to him by others.
The door clicked shut as Arwen left, unnoticed by Aragorn, his attention
remaining firmly fixed upon the weeping man on his be
Part 4: Influence
Arwen stalked through the halls of Rivendell, cold fury on her mind.
Aragorn had an amazing ability to be able to frustrate her with ease.
He was far too unpredictable and yet far too determined when his mind
had been made up. Whether he would still take the throne of Gondor remained
to be seen, although perhaps he might consider it out of sympathy to
his now extremely shaken lover.
The she-elf's eyes narrowed further as she considered exactly what
to do with said lover. Boromir was becoming even more unpredictable
as a tool than Aragorn, although ironically this tended to have nothing
to do with the man himself who seemed to have a remarkably simple outlook
on life. His brother was a different matter of course, but Faramir was
a minor inconvenience. The younger son of Denethor could simply be returned,
untouched. Boromir, however, had new scars to consider, the majority
of them not physical in the slightest. A trained and obedient Steward
was one thing. A partner in crime to your husband was quite another.
She turned a corner, swiftly making her way towards the chambers where
Haldir was alleged to be waiting, guarding their little prisoner with,
no doubt, extreme efficiency. Haldir might be an arrogant elf, but at
least he was reliable and he certainly achieved all that he set out
to do with little trouble. A useful ally, and thankfully one that need
not be on the doorstep when Gondor was finally hers.
Arwen located the said elf within the prisoner's room, both Haldir
and Faramir sitting on the floor, a plate of half eaten bread to one
side of the captive. The captive himself had looked towards her as soon
as she entered the room; the elf in comparison carelessly glanced towards
her from his cross legged position on the floor as though bored of her
constant intrusions.
The she-elf halted, her gaze moving from Haldir to Faramir slowly.
The young man flushed at the intensity of her glare, and looked towards
the floor. Faintly satisfied, Arwen turned her attention back on to
Haldir.
"*Exactly what is going on here?*" Arwen folded her arms. The fact
that the young man was half dressed had not set her mind at ease. This
promised complications.
"*Investigation,*" Haldir seemed indifferent to her tone.
"*Into what, pray tell?*" Arwen raised an eyebrow. Faramir gave Haldir
a little look which Arwen faintly recognised as the type that Boromir
gave Aragorn whenever he was after something, normally protection. It
did not aid her mood in the slightest.
"*Psychology,*" Haldir still seemed completely unrepentant. Arwen stared
at him a few moments more, then shook her head irritably.
"*I am not in the mood for your foolish games, Haldir.*" she said coldly.
"There are more important considerations to take care of than your .
investigations,"
Haldir surveyed her idly. "*Everything going well, then?*" he queried
lightly. Arwen glared at him, then turned her attention back onto the
prisoner, who was watching her cautiously without drawing too much attention
to himself, aware that the balance of power had shifted. The boy's position
was submission personified. Highly suspicious in one of Gondor, although
she had heard that the current Steward was somewhat firm on his opinions
regarding obedience.
"*His brother is not co-operating,*" Arwen snapped back at Haldir,
not failing to notice the slight raise of Faramir's head at this. Haldir
looked faintly bemused.
"*I confess myself surprised at that. What did you wish him to do?*"
Arwen turned her head to be able to watch Faramir closely whilst still
using her hair as a natural shield. "*His task was simple, to encourage
Aragorn towards our aims, using his body or whatever else appealed.
And he manages to fail in this one task!". Her eyes narrowed as she
studied the young man. His face was neutral as he could keep it but
there was a definite look of alarm from one who supposedly did not speak
the language.
"*So what now?*" If Haldir was surprised at Arwen's keenness to discuss
business in front of the prisoner he did not show it. "*I assume Aragorn
has now shunned him,*"
"*I'm not certain. He may find him infuriating and exasperating but
Aragorn undoubtedly still finds him attractive enough to fuck.*" Arwen
deliberately chose the cruder word to ensure that there would be no
doubt in Faramir's mind. At the ranger's slight wince, Arwen smiled
grimly to herself. So the child thinks he can fool an elf does he?
"*And what are you doing with this one, incidentally? Keeping him as
a pet?*" she continued pointedly.
Haldir seemed indifferent to the tone. "*He interests me,*"
"*That does not answer the question, Haldir. If you must start relations
with this boy, kindly wait until I have his brother firmly under my
control. And then you can do what you like with him,*" Arwen gestured
dismissively. Haldir raised an eyebrow.
"*And what of the political consequences?*" the elf queried. "I thought
we could not possibly take a Captain of Gondor,*"
"*And yet here he is,*" replied Arwen dryly. "*Giving him back is unlikely
to make a lot of difference, especially with what I understand about
the current Steward's preferences towards his children,*"
Haldir uncurled himself slightly. "*Look at his back,*"
The she-elf paused delicately, then moved to be able to view the ranger
properly. Her eyes fell on the raised scars thoughtfully.
"*Well, at least one rumour is not completely fabricated.*" she said
after a pause.
"*It appears not.*"
Arwen glanced at him, amused. "*And is this why he fascinates you so?
A damaged child? It would be sweet if I didn't know exactly what you
would have planned for him,*"
A flicker of displeasure crossed Haldir's face briefly. "And what exactly
does that mean?"
"*You know what it means. I would not speak of it here as I would only
frighten the child,*"
Haldir made a dismissive noise. "*The child cannot understand,*"
"*Is that what he told you?*" Arwen raised an eyebrow. "* No, he comprehends
well enough. He reacted to the news of his brother, and has been paying
close attention to our conversation,*" She stood. "* But obviously you
can discuss this at a later stage. For now I will have to find out what
agreement Aragorn has managed to reach with the other son of Gondor.
However, make sure he is ready for visitors tonight.*"
Faramir was aware of a pointed stare upon him as soon as the she-elf
started to walk towards the door, and he stared at his hands silently.
"I see," Haldir said coldly.
There was a long, long pause. The young man shivered again, this time
from the draft from the briefly opened door which had clicked shut after
the she-elf. Haldir did not move. Finally, reluctantly, Faramir gave
a little sideways glance towards the elf.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I .. I didn't know when to say,"
"If you do this sort of thing with your father I can see exactly why
he beats you," replied the elf sternly. "Don't take me for a fool, Faramir.
You will regret it,"
Faramir looked alarmed as the elf began to rise, seeing his advantage
wavering. Bloody she-elves! He put his most vulnerable expression on
his face as he stared at the elf, looking lost and dejected.
"Please don't go. I'm sorry,"
However, Haldir was obviously not the sort to bend to people's wishes
merely because of a pitiful expression. He simply stood, arms folded,
staring down at the man as though he was beyond contempt. Faramir was
painfully reminded of his father and finally lowered his gaze to the
floor, recognising the fact that he could do nothing to influence this
decision.
The elf took in the tense posture, the obvious concern, and smiled
grimly to himself.
"And if I stay," he rolled the words in his mouth as though sampling
them, Faramir raising his eyes to look at him. "what would you do then?"
Their gazes met. "How would you please me?"
The young man hesitated, uncertain of the elf's meaning. "Any way that
I can," he said finally. Haldir cocked his head to one side.
"Seems somewhat vague. Like what, boy?"
Knowing his advantage was balanced on a knife edge, Faramir took his
time to judge the elf's expression. Haldir seemed aloof but not in any
manner that would suggest frustration. Neither did he seem particularly
impatient. The look was firm, if slightly bored, but no disgust showed
itself as it had so often with his father. Faramir ran his tongue over
dry lips and looked beseechingly towards Haldir.
"I would-"
At which point the door swung open, stopping the young man in his tracks.
Another elf that Faramir did not recognise stood at the doorway, his
attention only for Haldir. Orophin glanced behind him, then walked forward
swiftly, completely ignoring the young man on the floor. Haldir stood
gracefully, and looked towards the visitor.
"*Brother, there is a problem,*" Orophin's tone was urgent.
Haldir gave a look towards Faramir, who had the decency to look embarrassed,
then nodded and steered his brother from the room. Shutting the door
firmly behind them, he folded his arms and stared towards the elf.
"*Explain*,"
"*Lord Elrond is requesting our presence*,"
Haldir frowned. "*Has there been any indication of why he wishes this?*"
Orophin shook his head. "*There has not. Mithrandir's presence has
also been requested*," The elf's eyes were full of concern. "*What if
Lord Elrond knows of our activities?*"
Haldir gave a snort of irritation. Out of his brothers, it had been
Orophin who had been most concerned about the kidnapping. "*I doubt
that. Lord Elrond has more to worry about than the deeds of his visitors.
The ring-bearer will be taking up all of his time,*"
"*The meeting is set for ten minutes, brother. Something must have
happened. Arwen.?*"
"*There have been set backs with the plan, but nothing of that nature*,"
Haldir shook his head. "*No, this must be unrelated,*"
Once he had started crying, Boromir found he couldn't stop. His fears,
his frustrations, his terrors all converged in this one lapse of concentration.
He could faintly hear Aragorn's calming murmurs, trying to soothe him,
but it was all a little too late. He could barely feel the hand on his
shoulder, his own head buried in his arm, trying to stop the sobs from
escaping. His upper thighs, buttocks and lower back were just a fireball
of pain. In a strange way it was a relief, something to focus on other
than his fears for Faramir and the unyielding pressure to get Aragorn
to agree to Arwen's desires.
"Boromir," Aragorn was almost as distressed as he was. After realising
the Gondorian was not about to push him away as he put his hand over
his shoulder, the ranger tried to soothe him a little more, moving to
lie next to him on the bed, his body against Boromir's, his words automatically
switching to the language his foster father used to soothe him with.
"Cormlle naa tanya tel'raa. Lle tyava quel? Lle anta amin tu?"
There was a faint sound of a sad chuckle from Boromir.
"Aragorn," it wasn't much more than a whisper, the voice ragged but
faintly, just faintly, amused. "I can't understand a word you're saying,"
"Sorry," Aragorn tried to see Boromir's face but the Gondorian kept
himself hidden, although clearly he was slowly recovering. "Are you
okay?" His hand stroked Boromir's shoulder. "Do you need help?" The
anxiety in the ranger's voice was clear.
There was a long pause from the Gondorian.
"I honestly don't know what you want me to say, Aragorn." A shiver
went through Boromir's body again, his voice sad and slow. "You know
I'm not alright. You made sure,"
The ranger opened his mouth to speak, but found no words emerging.
He found himself cuddling up closer, trying to soothe the pain with
his body. Boromir did not speak, although neither did he move away.
The trembling within the other man's body had died completely, only
the speed of his breathing giving away his distressed state.
With a great deal of effort, Aragorn forced himself to move again to
inspect the damage he had inflicted. Blows that had caused a rosy red
effect had long since darkened to an angry red, occasionally even showing
the dark purple-black of the bruises that would follow. Those lines
which had cut the skin had stopped bleeding, the faint beginnings of
the scab starting to show. For a long time Aragorn just stared at the
wounds, the rage that had driven his hand a distant memory.
"My poor baby," he murmured. He shifted from the bed and padded towards
the chest of drawers, pulling open a drawer and obtaining a little bottle
of healing cream that he had left just in case of games that became
rougher than usual. Moving back, he positioned himself over Boromir,
and watched him for a brief period before opening the bottle and scooping
some of the cold cream out.
"This may sting a little," he warned, sitting over Boromir's thighs
and carefully applying the medicine. Boromir arched his back in shock,
and glanced over his shoulder. The ranger's hand stopped as Aragorn
took in the red rimmed eyes, the sad and frightened expression that
seemed so remote from the proud warrior Boromir had been. Their eyes
met; Boromir immediately went back to his original position, hunching
his shoulders and burying his face.
"Oh, Boromir," Aragorn sighed miserably. "I'm sorry,"
"What you must think of me," Boromir's voice was muffled. Aragorn could
feel the soldier's embarrassment, his distress.
"It's okay," Aragorn tried to calm him, but it had the wrong effect.
Boromir lifted his head incredulously.
"It's not okay! It never was okay and it never will be okay!" The force
of Boromir's explosion startled Aragorn slightly. "It's weak and pathetic,"
he muttered, dropping his head back down. "And .. I can't stop it,"
his voice hitched again. Shaking his head in obvious anger against himself,
Boromir quietened. His back stiffened slightly as Aragorn went back
to applying the salve but no further protests escaped his lips.
They were silent for almost five minutes, the ranger tenderly treating
the wounds. He could feel Boromir growing more calm with every minute
that passed, his breathing relaxing to something approaching normal.
Having finished, Aragorn simply sat back on his heels and watched him.
"I can go-"
"No." Boromir's response was immediate. "Stay. Please,"
Aragorn leant forward again, curling around Boromir as tightly as he
could manage without pressing against injured flesh. Boromir squirmed
briefly, but relaxed again as Aragorn's arm drifted across his back,
holding him close.
"So you don't hate me any more?" Boromir's voice was low.
"I didn't hate you before,"
Boromir lifted his head to look at him incredulously. "You are kidding
me,"
Aragorn dropped his eyes. "I was just .. angry,"
"I noticed,"
The ranger was happy to hear the slightly dry sarcastic tone make a
fleeting appearance into his lover's words.
"It's just it's a very .. sensitive subject," he continued weakly.
"Also noticed." Boromir gave a faint smile, resisting the urge to ask
why. This query was a little too dangerous now, and yet it would have
to be broached before Arwen turned up. Boromir coughed and turned a
little to face his lover, his eyes nervously scanning his face for fear
of further offence. Aragorn was a mystery of tightly constrained tensions,
nerves. "Aragorn, I.,"
"It's okay, Boromir. Just rest," Aragorn patted him.
"I don't need rest, I need to know why you hit me," Boromir almost
winced at the words that had managed to escape his mouth, tactless as
always. Hurriedly he tried to search for some way of softening his sentence,
pausing only as Aragorn slowly leant forward and kissed his forehead
gently.
"It doesn't matter. I was wrong," the rangers voice was soft, regretful.
"It does matter, Aragorn." Boromir forced himself to speak rather than
just let that little statement slide. "I would never do what you said
I did, you should know that,"
The ranger was silent. Boromir stared at him. "Don't you?" his voice
was a little more unsteady. Aragorn smiled finally, and kissed him again.
"Of course." However, he kept his eyes well away from Boromir. The
Gondorian felt his heart sink a little further, clasping onto Aragorn's
other hand like a lifeline.
"I mean it, Aragorn."
The ranger looked back at him doubtfully, then nodded. Boromir relaxed
slightly, knowing there were still doubts in the other man's mind, but
a few doubts he could live with. The majority had been won.
"Will you rest now?" Aragorn asked gently. The Gondorian lowered his
head back to the bed, watching the ranger carefully. Aragorn settled
himself close to his lover, and sighed slightly. Boromir waited for
a few more moments before closing his eyes himself and drifting into
a light troubled sleep.
There were few present at the meeting. The elf lord himself sat behind
his desk, looking impassive as usual. The wizard Mithrandir sat near
the window, occasionally looking out at the splendours of Rivendell.
Rumil had already arrived and had seated himself near the bookshelves,
as far away from the possibility of being asked questions as he was
able. And Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, was stood on the opposite side,
his arms folded, an unreadable expression on his face.
As the door shut behind them, Elrond nodded his greeting. Noting Orophin
moving to sit next to their other brother, Haldir elected to stand.
He was aware of the wizard's scrutiny as soon as they had walked into
the room. Legolas, for his part, acted as though they were not there.
"Good day," Elrond wasted no time into beginning the meeting. "It graves
me to bring this gathering together, but I have little option under
the circumstances. It regards certain worrying correspondence from Gondor."
None of the brothers gave any indication that this was in any way alarming.
Haldir raised an eyebrow.
"Gondor?" he echoed. "Why would Gondor be concerned about Rivendell?
From what I hear they are somewhat insular in their discussions,"
"The elder son of the Steward put himself forward to travel as part
of the Fellowship," interjected Legolas, his eyes cool on the march-warden.
"I do not consider that to be insular,"
"Nevertheless," Elrond broke the silence. "it is partly Boromir's presence
that appears to have caused his father to fear the worst. It appears
that the younger son, Faramir, has gone missing,"
"Missing?" echoed Gandalf, frowning slightly. "Faramir is a ranger.
It does not take much for others to consider them missing when they
are perfectly safe. What brings Denethor to believe such a situation?"
Elrond sighed. "It would seem that he was taken by force whilst on
a routine scouting mission. One of the rangers he was with also suffered
injuries from this kidnapping, although these seemed to be intended
to subdue rather than seriously injure. The lieutenant reported the
matter as soon as they arrived back at Minas Tirith."
"Orcs?" suggested Legolas. "They would have been close to the borders,"
The elf lord shook his head. "I do not think it likely that Mordor
would bother to kidnap a Captain of Gondor. There would be no profit
for them, and any entertainment would be fleeting," Elrond closed his
eyes briefly at the image, and scanned the room thoughtfully. "And also
the ranger reported the assailants to be of elven descent," he added
softly.
"What?" Legolas leaned forward. "It cannot be so!"
"I am as doubtful as you, Legolas. However, the ranger is apparently
most insistent. The attack was well planned and executed. Apart from
one or two tracks from Faramir, the assailants managed to accomplish
their task without leaving any evidence. I am aware of the skills of
the Ithilien rangers, and I do not doubt them with regards to their
report. No orc would have been able to do this," Elrond watched the
faces around him. Gandalf cleared his throat.
"And what does Denethor demand?" the wizard asked softly.
"Lord Denethor believes that we hold his youngest son captive. He also
expresses concern for his elder son, with whom apparently correspondence
has been .. fleeting."
"Boromir does not seem the correspondence type," replied Legolas. Elrond
smiled slightly at this.
"Indeed he does not. However, this does not aid our position. Our allies
within Middle Earth are few. We cannot hope to succeed if suspicion
grows within the city of Minas Tirith,"
"Agreed," Legolas nodded. "But what options are open to us?"
Elrond's gaze swept around the other members of the room. "I have brought
you all here as a last hope that you might have any information which
could assist. You are all the last visitors from your respective homes
to enter Rivendell. Has anything of note occurred that might be relevant?
It is likely that the assailants would have to have entered one of the
elvish realms."
"We do not deal with Men, let alone those of Gondor," replied Haldir.
"We have not seen any sign of this man. Mirkwood would be more likely,"
Legolas glared towards him. "Exactly what do you mean by that, Haldir?"
the elf's voice was hard. Haldir shrugged nonchalantly.
"Two reasons immediately spring to mind, Legolas. One, Mirkwood would
presumably be easier to reach. And two," Haldir looked away, a slightly
mocking expression on his face. "that it still holds all the marks of
being unmanageable. Mirkwood holds many dangers,"
"How dare you accuse-" Legolas' voice became raised, anger clearly
blazing behind his eyes, but stopped as Elrond held up his hand.
"Although the phrasing could have been better worded, Mirkwood might
indeed be a more likely suspect, for no reason other than logistics.
It would make more sense to take a prisoner the shorter distance, although
depending on their mode of transportation it would be debatable which
would be quicker to reach. Equally, the Lady Galadriel would be able
to sense any disturbances within her woods. Lord Faramir's thoughts
would be a danger to any who brought him to Lothlorien."
Legolas subsided, although his glare lingered briefly on Haldir before
finally staring out the window.
"I know of no groups who would have done this. There were no reports
of any disturbances before I left," Legolas' voice was low.
"Has his brother been notified?" asked Gandalf quietly. Elrond shook
his head.
"I do not want to inform Boromir until we have a little more information.
Although he seems to have relaxed to a significant extent in the past
week, I think we are all aware of his opinions during the council. However,
I cannot keep this from him for very long."
"There is no possibility that this man has just left?" Haldir said
finally, folding his arms. "From what I have heard about Gondor, the
Steward is particularly harsh to those who are not his favourite. Perhaps
this boy has just had enough,"
"Faramir is not the type of man to run from a challenge," replied Gandalf
sharply. "It is true that he and his father are.not close. However,
he would rather die than leave Gondor at this time, when his men need
him. I do not feel that he would just leave of his own accord."
"Either way, he is not where he is supposed to be, and this causes
us difficulties," Elrond sat back and considered the matter. "Would
your father be willing to investigate this further, Legolas?"
Legolas hesitated. Finally, he shook his head. "I do not know," he
said reluctantly. "But I fear not. My father does not welcome the prospect
of Men within his realm. He will be focused on the dangers to the city,
not on another man's son,"
"I find it strange that no demands have been received by Denethor for
the return of his son," Gandalf was considering the situation. "There
must be some reason for his capture. The most likely seems a political
motivation, and yet.," The wizard sighed. "Haldir is right. Boromir
would have been a much more logical choice."
"Perhaps they were unaware of the tension within the family," suggested
Legolas. Gandalf shook his head slowly.
"But that would suggest a lack of research, which I greatly doubt.
Unless the necessity arose since Boromir left Minas Tirith for Rivendell,
the reason must be linked to Faramir himself."
"What about the men of Harad?" Rumil suggested. "Are they not also
present on the roads?"
"I doubt whether they would have the capabilities, though motives would
not be lacking amongst them. It would also explain the lack of demands,"
replied Gandalf grimly. Rumil raised an eyebrow.
"I do not understand,"
"The rangers of Ithilien and the Haradrim have a long history. Faramir
has headed many successful attacks against their raiding parties and
their homes." The wizard looked towards the elf steadily. "If they have
him, they will mean to torture and kill him in revenge, if they have
not done so already. As much as it pains me to say it, I hope with all
my being that it was an elf who has seized him. Faramir is a brave and
honourable man. He does not deserve a slow and painful death at the
hands of the Haradrim."
Elrond interlaced his fingers, considering. "Unfortunately, we are
only speculating," he said finally. "It would appear that we will need
to find out the current situation within Gondor before reacting, if
we are able to react at all. I will need to speak to the brother,"
"The news will come as a heavy blow to him," warned the wizard. "They
are extremely close,"
Elrond nodded his understanding. "Nevertheless, he will need to be
told. If nothing more than to assure his father than at least one of
his sons is still accounted for,"
The knocking on the wooden door woke both men up from their sleep.
Aragorn stared towards the door in surprise, then glanced towards the
window where the setting sun was causing a beautiful red-orange glow.
Boromir huddled down further in the blankets, trying to pretend to be
still asleep.
The ranger looked down at him, smiled, and gently kissed his shoulder
before sliding off the bed and slipping into his breeches. He glanced
back at the bed, Boromir having already pulled over the blankets to
hide himself from any watching eyes, and walked towards the door.
"Lindir," he greeted the elf outside the door. "Can I help you?"
"Good evening, Estel. I was seeking Lord Boromir. Have you seen him?"
Aragorn shook his head. "Not recently," he replied. "Although I can
pass on a message if I see him,"
Lindir looked cautious for a moment, then nodded. "Agreed. Lord Elrond
wishes to speak to him on an urgent matter,"
Aragorn stared at him. "Urgent matter? I know nothing of this. What
has happened?"
The elf shrugged lightly. "I fear I do not know, Estel."
Aragorn considered the matter, then nodded. "I will pass on the message
as soon as I see him," he confirmed. "Thank you, Lindir,"
The elf nodded, and continued down the corridor. Aragorn slowly shut
the door, and looked back at the bed where Boromir had moved the blankets
back and was looking back at him. Boromir shook his head.
"I cannot see your foster father," he said shakily. "Can it not wait?"
"Apparently it cannot," mused Aragorn, walking to the bed and sitting
down on the edge. Boromir curled up beside him, Aragorn's hand already
resting on his shoulder, gently stroking the soft skin. There was a
soft satisfied sigh from Boromir.
"You will need to go,"
"I know. Just .. not yet," Boromir buried himself a little more around
Aragorn, still feeling vulnerable and extremely embarrassed about his
lapse. To stand in front of an elf lord - for there was no way he was
sitting - and look him in the eye would take more willpower and strength
than Boromir possessed at this moment in time.
And then of course there was always the fact that he was due to see
Faramir. Boromir was already alert to the door, awaiting Arwen's arrival.
He knew that she would keep her promise with regards to the visit, just
as she would keep her threats. The growing concern regarding his brother
gnawed away at him. His eyes flickered towards Aragorn again, but fell
away reluctantly. He could not broach the subject again without problems.
Only Aragorn himself could initiate that particular conversation, and
that was surely not what Arwen would wish to hear.
Aragorn was still pondering on the urgent summons, the ranger frowning
slightly as he considered all the options.
"There is nothing at home that might be the reason for this request?"
he hazarded. "Nothing that your father would want to contact you to
do?"
"I cannot think of anything," Boromir's voice was muffled from the
blanket.
"When was the last time you sent word to your father?"
Boromir buried himself a little more. Aragorn frowned.
"Boromir?"
"I had better things to do," came a small mutter. "I am no writer,"
The ranger groaned to himself. "Have you sent word at all to your father
since you arrived?"
There was a silence that stated exactly how much correspondence Boromir
had bothered to do.
"Heaven knows what your poor father has been thinking during this time."
"My 'poor father' can focus a little more on the borders and a little
less on me," snapped Boromir from the security of the blankets. "I am
no child to be governed and babysat!"
"We have birds who will easily deliver a message," Aragorn resisted
the urge to snap back. "You must write to him before we leave,"
"Fine,"
Aragorn eyed him. "I will be checking,"
"I said fine!"
The ranger paused, studying him, before nodding. "Then once you feel
able I will take you to see Lord Elrond. "
The blankets twitched again. Boromir ran a few thoughts through his
mind before starting reluctantly, unhappy about the conversation but
recognising the need to ensure that Aragorn was well away from the room
before Arwen arrived.
"Would it be possible to have some time to myself?" he deliberately
kept his voice meek, trying to ensure against any possible offence.
Boromir was successful. A look of guilty anguish crossed Aragorn's face
briefly, before the ranger nodded and shifted towards the door.
"Certainly," Aragorn's voice was sad. "I am sorry, I did not think,"
"Only for a short period," Boromir hastened to add, feeling guilty
himself from the obvious distress of his partner. "Just to run things
over in my mind,"
Aragorn nodded.
"Honestly, it's okay Aragorn," Boromir was feeling distressed himself.
The ranger smiled at him.
"Come and find me when you're ready," he said softly, and was gone
before Boromir could even sit up in bed. Boromir stared at the door
as though expecting it to open once more, then slid out of the bed to
dress carefully and slowly, cautious of his injuries.
Now all he had to do was wait.
Haldir was in a fine mood when he walked back towards the chambers,
both of his brothers choosing to avoid him at this present moment in
time. His posture was perfectly balanced, his features expressionless
yet a burning intensity raged in his eyes.
His mood did not improve as he was joined by the daughter of Elrond
as he turned a corner. Arwen had been sitting near a window awaiting
his arrival and simply joined him as he strode past, walking swiftly
to catch him up before matching his pace.
"I assume you've heard then," her voice was delicate and yet ice cold.
"Your little extravagance appears to have caused more problems than
he's worth,"
"I don't see your boy doing any better," replied Haldir coolly. "Has
he managed to persuade Aragorn yet?"
"All in good time," Arwen's voice was clipped.
"I thought not," They turned the final corner, Haldir's hand pushing
the door open. He waited until she had entered before shutting the door
smartly and turning to face her.
"Everything is fine. They know nothing. If we remain with the intended
plan then there should be no complications," Haldir searched her eyes,
although confident that nothing would change. This meant more to Arwen
than it did to him, and he could feel the stubbornness raging in himself
as it was. The she-elf nodded after a while, and stared towards the
chamber door where Faramir was being held.
"I assume you will tackle that particular complication,"
"He is satisfactory. Just because his brother is proving more of a
headache than we had anticipated does not mean that the younger boy
will automatically go the same way," Haldir was not in the mood to debate
Faramir's existence in their plans. Arwen shrugged lightly.
"He has already lied to you once. Your patience is remarkable," her
eyes met his briefly, before turning away again. "I want his brother
to see him tonight. I need some type of .. persuasion to ensure that
Boromir will do as we ask immediately,"
Haldir narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. "Exactly what did you have in
mind?" he asked slowly. Arwen smiled.
"Don't look so concerned. I simply require you to ensure that Boromir
believes that the threat to his brother's well-being is closer than
reality." Arwen's eyes flickered to the room again. "I don't care how
you achieve this, whether it be physically trained or simply performance.
However, if he fails to perform satisfactorily.,"
"He will be the very essence of a defenceless child," Haldir's voice
was confident. Arwen nodded, satisfied.
"Good. Boromir must believe his brother's health and virtue is in the
balance, otherwise he becomes even more unpredictable than usual. And
I can assure you his usual unpredictability is irritating enough." Arwen
nodded to him and made her way back to the door, the tension in her
posture slightly relaxed. "I will bring him in one hour,"
"An hour?" Haldir raised an eyebrow. "Cutting this a little fine, are
you not?"
Arwen paused, her hand on the door. "Do you doubt whether you will
have Faramir controlled by that time?" her voice was cool.
"He shall be cowering as required, you have my word. However, one would
think by giving this instruction at such a late stage that you were
trying to ensure punishment to train his obedience." Haldir's eyes were
steady on her.
"Fancy," Arwen commented dryly and left.
Faramir's eyes were immediately on him as soon as he returned to the
chamber, the young man having returned to the corner he had favoured
since he had been brought there. The new bedroll lay untouched in the
opposite corner as though the ranger had shunned this in fear of a trap.
Haldir was pleased to see the ranger's eyes drop to study the floor,
his head slightly bowed in a subservient manner. At least some things
were not as bad as they could have been. Previously he had had images
of having to constantly restrain the mortal, and was thankful he did
not have to keep one eye firmly fixed on him at all times. Obviously
the language difficulty was a mere lapse.
"You want to see your brother?" he asked after a moment. Faramir glanced
at him, obviously surprised.
"Yes," his voice was longing, wistful, one who knew that this was simply
going to be a torment. Haldir leant back against one of the walls, and
watched him carefully.
"I can get you to see him," he said slowly, watching the hope grow.
"However there will be conditions,"
"Conditions?" Faramir was wary, cautious of any new game. Haldir gently
rubbed his ear with a hand.
"I need you to convince your brother that you are mistreated," he said
casually. Faramir blinked at him, confused. Surely it was usually the
other way around?
"How mistreated are we talking?" he said finally.
"Just show some fear, some caution. Cringe. Cower. Wince every time
anyone comes near you." Haldir was enjoying watching the conflicting
emotions cross the man's expression, obviously still confused but eager
to do anything to see his brother. "Act as though I've thrown you against
that wall and beaten the very essence out of you,"
Faramir watched him with suddenly a very unreadable expression. "Anything
else?" he asked.
"Just be as broken as you can be,"
The young man watched him steadily, his usual docile expression having
been forgotten briefly. He ran his tongue over his lower lip before
speaking.
"And what," he said carefully. "happens if I don't?"
Haldir smiled gently.
"It's very simple," he said, his eyes clear with honesty. "I get to
break you
Part 5: Control
It was time.
Arwen was good as her word with regards to the visit. As she entered
Aragorn's chambers without knocking as usual, her eyes flickered in
distrust over Boromir's clothed body briefly as though finding offence,
then nodded to him as she stopped in front of the bed. The Gondorian
watched her silently, knowing to try to rush her would only lead to
further anguish.
"I will take you to him," she said after a lengthy pause. Boromir gave
a little sigh of relief. "However, I expect you to behave. Needless
to say, any difficulties with you will be taken out on him,"
Her eyes were clear and utterly, utterly sincere. Boromir bowed his
head slightly as acknowledgement then carefully and gingerly slid from
where he had been sitting on the bed, having waited for some time for
the arrival he both feared and desired. He still kept a careful hold
on his tongue, mindful of his usual tact.
Boromir's eyes widened at the production of a blindfold.
Arwen cocked her head to one side slightly. "You did not think I was
just going to lead you to him?" a faint smile hovered at her lips. "
If you wish to make any type of foolish escape bid, you will have to
work a little harder, my dear."
"Exactly how will you explain me walking through the corridors with
a blindfold?" Boromir stared at her a little harder than he had wanted.
The she elf narrowed her eyes but did not comment on this. She merely
ran the silk strip through her fingers as she spoke.
"Everyone will be in the feasting hall. And if there are one or two
who observe it, well," there was a definite flash of amusement in her
eyes. "let us say that I am gifted in finding unusual explanations,"
Boromir glared at her, but allowed himself to be blindfolded to the
elf's content.
"Your hands will stay by your sides. I will be watching," Arwen warned.
Boromir growled his understanding, before finding himself guided carefully
by the elf, a hand resting lightly on his left shoulder. He lost track
of which directions he had taken after the sixth turn, recognising the
fact that Arwen was deliberately confusing his sense of direction. Finally,
he entered a chamber, heard the door shut firmly after him as he stood,
waiting.
The blindfold was removed. Boromir blinked in the surprising amount
of light in the chamber, his eyes immediately turning to a blonde elf
who was watching him coolly from in front of the fireplace. Two other
elves sat one on each side, their attention directly aimed at him, their
hands ready on bows although arrows were not yet cocked. Boromir stared
at their unspoken threat, before glancing over to Arwen.
"Where is he?" his voice was almost careless, although the elves could
hear the tension.
Arwen's eyes flickered towards Haldir, who gave another dismissive
look towards Boromir and walked towards the second door in the room.
Boromir watched one of the other elves straighten slightly and give
the third elf a sharp look, then his attention was all for the new room
that was revealed.
It was reasonably small, and mostly empty. A slightly rumpled bedroll
lay in one corner, Faramir's light tunic rolled up as a makeshift pillow.
Faramir himself was sitting in a different corner, his legs curled up
under him, a slightly haunted expression on his face. He did not look
towards the door as it opened, merely kept his head down and eyes firmly
fixed on the floor in a manner that Boromir had seen countless times
in their father's study. A chain was attached to one ankle, although
the chain itself seemed long enough to allow Faramir some ability to
move around as he wished.
"Faramir," he murmured, and would have stepped forward had it not been
for Haldir. His arm immediately stopped the Gondorian from moving into
the room, his palm resting firmly on Boromir's chest. The Gondorian's
eyes narrowed dangerously.
"Get out of my way," he growled. Haldir seemed completely unconcerned
regarding this threat and just stared at him in a manner that suggested
that he was disappointed and faintly disgusted by what he saw in front
of him. Boromir snarled again, his eyes flashing a threat. Arwen made
a noise to attract attention.
"The deal was for you to see him, not touch him," she reminded him.
Boromir stared at her, then stared back at Faramir who had managed to
draw his head up slightly to watch them. Large blue-green eyes stared
mournfully at him, the young ranger pulling his knees even tighter to
himself as though they offered protection. Arwen smiled to herself at
the desperate look on Boromir's face, the concern and fear stamped over
him. The control was back. Suddenly the threat to Faramir's life was
all too real.
Boromir looked back at Arwen again.
"Please. Let me see him properly, touch him," The plea was heartfelt.
Arwen noticed Orophin's uncertain glance towards Rumil again, then ignored
them. Haldir had sworn that his brothers would follow him. It was not
like him to make a mistake in this area.
"Hmmmmm," her eyes were delicate as they rested on Boromir. "If I
let you touch him, will you try a little harder on the tasks I set for
you?"
"If you do not, I will not do them," Boromir's voice was suddenly hard,
the fierce warrior back. "You will lose nothing if you let me check
he is okay. You will lose everything if you do not,"
Arwen looked faintly surprised. "Was that a threat?" She glanced towards
Haldir, amused. "Would you say that was a threat, Haldir?"
Haldir nodded. "I would say so," he confirmed. "Surprising, considering
the circumstances."
Boromir gave the blonde elf a hard glare that achieved absolutely nothing
in ruining Haldir's composure. Haldir yawned pointedly, and glanced,
bored, towards Arwen.
"I still maintain you do not train your pets well enough. My little
ranger would not have spoken to me in such a manner," Haldir's eyes
drifted, smug, towards Boromir. Boromir froze, then roared to life,
stepping forward. However, both seated elves moved immediately from
their positions, arrows immediately cocked, aiming directly at Boromir.
The Gondorian halted, glaring at the danger, before withdrawing with
a growl of annoyance. Haldir could see Faramir sit up straighter, his
anguish clear at the threat to his beloved elder brother.
"You are not encouraging me, Boromir," Arwen's singsong voice continued,
knowing full well the hold she had over the human in front of her. Boromir
suddenly sighed heavily, painfully.
"Let us get on with this. We both know that you will not allow me to
get near him," Boromir's eyes were heavy, his voice defeated. "In fact,
it is more likely that you would deliberately hurt him in front of me
to make a point,"
"A reasonable assessment," sniffed Haldir, amused nevertheless. Arwen
had stilled, a blank look overtaking her expression, before she glared
angrily at Haldir.
A heavy silence fell over the room. Finally, she turned away.
"Fine. You can get close to him, to touch him. But only for a minute,"
her voice was irritated. Boromir looked at her in honest surprise, then
back at Haldir who also seemed slightly stunned. Arwen glanced back
at him angrily.
"Well? Get on with it before I change my mind,"
Boromir nodded his head slightly, and made his way swiftly towards
his brother, kneeling down in front of him and looking at him worriedly.
At the lift of Boromir's hand to cup his younger brother's face, Faramir
flinched slightly. The elder Gondorian looked horrified, finally running
his hand down the stubble of hair on Faramir's face trying to soothe
him. No one had bothered to give the young man a shave, and he had a
particularly rough look to him. However, there did not seem to be any
obvious bruising or injuries.
Faramir lifted his eyes to look at his brother. Boromir pulled him
into a hard hug, feeling the comforting warmth of his brother against
him, the hard embrace that was being returned. He rested his jaw on
Faramir's shoulder, his lips brushing against the skin of Faramir's
neck as he nuzzled him, breathing in the familiar scent, assuring himself
that his brother was real, was still there.
The ranger's hands refused to let him go as Boromir went to move reluctantly
away, Faramir making a small noise in the back of his throat like a
wounded animal. His elder brother kissed him gently, feeling the slight
tremble that always went through Faramir at the physical contact between
them.
"I will get you out of here," Boromir's voice was low and unsteady,
but the determination was clear to all. The elves had followed the human
into the room, and were watching this with differing expressions. Orophin
glanced towards Rumil once again, then stared back at the sheer devotion
in front of him. With a faint shake of his head, he moved back to sit
in the other room, unable to watch any further.
Haldir was watching with a grim expression.
"Surely that is enough to confirm he is well?" he voiced in faint irritation
after a few moments more. His frown deepened as Boromir pulled back,
gently kissing Faramir on the forehead fondly, before drawing completely
away. Faramir reluctantly allowed his brother to move from his embrace,
his sorrowful expression following his brother. Haldir growled inwardly.
Faramir was certainly obeying his orders, if a little too well. And
it was all too clear that this little relationship held more than the
ranger had admitted. Boromir looked absolutely devastated, as though
Gondor itself was threatened to be reduced to rubble.
"I promise, Faramir," Boromir said softly. Faramir nodded his understanding,
and watched as his brother was swiftly pushed from the chambers by Haldir.
Sighing, he pulled his knees tight to himself again and shut his eyes.
At least he knew that Boromir was okay in his overall safety. Only the
Valar knew what they were destroying in his beloved brother, forcing
him to do acts he would not choose himself.
Rumil, meanwhile, had offered to escort Arwen and Boromir back. The
Gondorian seemed as though he had had the energy drained from him as
soon as he stepped from Faramir's cell; he merely nodded and waited
mutely as the blindfold was placed back over his eyes. Orophin stared
down at his bow as the little procession moved from the room, then looked
back up slowly as the door shut with the faintest of clicks.
Haldir was aware of the gaze now settling on him.
"Something the matter?" he queried without moving his head.
"*You know exactly what concerns me, brother,*" Orophin's voice was
low and heavy, speaking in their own language. Haldir snorted in amusement,
before finally glancing towards him.
"*I confess to having a suspicion,*" he mused lightly and with little
interest. "*It is somewhat late to be getting cold feet, Orophin.*"
"*For this scheme as a whole, indeed it is*," Orophin replied heatedly.
"*but I was not aware of the additional aims you were planning,*"
"*Possibly because you did not ask. You simply followed Rumil's lead,
with little consideration to what it might entail. I cannot be responsible
for you if you let your obsession cloud your personal judgment.*" Haldir
eyed him coldly. "*And, in any case, I am uncertain as to which aims
you refer to.*"
"*The aims regarding that boy. Your . interest in the captive. Both
Rumil and I have noticed your increasing devotion to him.*"
"*Devotion?*" echoed Haldir, and laughed. "*Why, Orophin! You make
it sound so exciting!*" He shook his head. "*No, I fear that it is nothing
as interesting as you make it out to be.*"
Orophin looked completely unconvinced. "*Then you will have no objection
if Rumil or I were to watch over the boy,*" he said dryly. Haldir's
expression hardened.
"*I appreciate your concerns, but I feel this is unnecessary. You are
well aware of my opinions on the matter of cross mating,*" he said sternly.
Orophin raised an eyebrow.
"*Indeed,*" he replied. "*And I am also aware that your opinions and
principals often change when it is no longer convenient to keep them,*"
His eyes were steady.
"*I dislike your attitude, Orophin,*" the amusement had completely
gone from Haldir's voice. "*The boy is safe under my care. I need to
coordinate with Arwen when the time comes. Your assistance, although
no doubt well meaning,*" a cold glare here, "*is completely superfluous.*"
Orophin looked towards the chamber, then back. "*For the Valar's sake,
Haldir,*" his voice dropped slightly, an urgent plea only faintly hidden.
"*he has family who care about him, a brother who loves him dearly.
You can consider any sort of relations with him whilst they have fears
of his safety?*"
"*I see.*" Haldir folded his arms. "*Because there might be a possible
relationship between the brothers, you feel that it is your moral duty
to speak up for them? How touching! And, of course, absolutely nothing
to do with your own situation,*"
Orophin glared at him. "*It is wrong, Haldir.*"
"*That's nice. Duly noted.*" Haldir's voice could freeze water. "*Now,
it might be nice if you could go and assist Rumil in that way you do
so very well, hmmm? I'm finding your halo a little tiresome,*"
"*You would be wise to consider it.*" Orophin growled, before making
his own way towards the door. "*That boy has been taken because of a
situation he knows nothing about. Don't make his concerns any greater.*"
Haldir said nothing. He simply watched as the door once again shut,
then turned on his heel and stalked back into the chamber. Faramir lifted
his head slightly, watching Haldir warily. The elf recognised the concerns,
the fear that he had not completed the elf's task to his satisfaction.
Ignoring his internal fury at Orophin's words, Haldir managed a calm
smile and patted the mortal on the head before sitting near him.
"Good, Faramir. I am pleased with you,"
There was a brief look of unguarded astonishment from Faramir, before
the man managed to regain control over his expression. Haldir suddenly
remembered that words of praise were undoubtedly rare in the child's
home land, especially by those who controlled him. Haldir smiled again,
forgetting a little more of his outrage.
"What happens now?" Faramir said softly. Haldir shrugged.
"No doubt I will hear shortly. Your brother seemed most anxious to
get you out of our hospitality," The memory of exactly how anxious Boromir
was flickered across Haldir's mind again, how concerned. The warmth
of the hug and the tenderness of the kiss had also not been forgotten.
"Do you sleep with your brother?" Haldir said bluntly, although his
tone was one of disinterest. Faramir's head shot up, eyes large and
surprised, staring at him as though expecting a joke.
"As in .. sexual relations?" Faramir struggled with the words. Haldir
nodded.
"As in sexual relations." Haldir watched in interest as Faramir turned
an interesting shade of red, a much more solid level of embarrassment
clear.
"No, we haven't," he said finally, discomfort laced throughout his
tone, obviously unhappy discussing it. Haldir cocked his head slightly
to one side, studying him.
"Why not?"
"He's my brother!" Faramir stared at him. "It's unheard of,"
"It is almost certainly unusual but certainly not unheard of." Haldir
settled back. "He seemed very .. caring towards you,"
"I am able to have relationships with people without the need to fuck
them," said Faramir coldly. Haldir was once again reminded of the hidden
steel within Faramir's personality, almost entirely hidden except whenever
he seemed to be the most distressed. Keen to explore this possibly,
Haldir decided to probe further.
"Really? That's good. I feared that you might use mating for a completely
different motivation," Haldir picked at a nail, aware that Faramir was
staring at him, a cold, hard stare that seemed completely divorced from
the meek submissive ones that he gave freely. An unguarded moment.
"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean," Faramir regained control again,
his voice back to being soft. Haldir smiled to himself.
"In which case I shall explain further. Please do stop me if I confuse
you," Haldir finished with his nail and looked at him. "As you are aware,
people get involved in relationships for many different reasons. Many
times it is simply for lust or, occasionally love. But then there are
the times it is used for control, for attention," Haldir's eyes flickered
to Faramir. "for affection not seen elsewhere,"
"Meaning?" Faramir's expression was unreadable.
"Very defensive aren't you?" The tone was beginning to irritate him.
Faramir immediately put on his submissive expression and bowed his head
slightly. Nodding, Haldir continued.
"Now you, you I can see being one of two types. You have low self esteem
of your worth, most likely to do with your upbringing. ," the elf paused
delicately. "People in such situations can often have such low confidence
that they feel unable to seek out anyone, always feeling as though they
do not deserve the love that is given to them, assuming it is out of
pity."
Faramir paused before speaking. "And the other?"
"Completely the opposite," Haldir smiled at him. "Looking for affection
from whoever would give it, trying to find whatever they're lacking
in day to day relationships. Relationships, if they could be called
that, would be sought with colleagues, friends...," Haldir eyed him
in amusement. "and even family. Constantly trying to achieve that sense
of affection and never finding it."
Faramir gave a dry chuckle. "And I couldn't just be normal?" he queried.
"Are you?" countered Haldir. "Definitely nothing you could possibly
relate to your situation?"
The young ranger eyed him back, then sighed and shuffled back so his
back was resting against the wall. His auburn hair fell over his face
again, although Haldir had seen the expression that was currently residing.
"I wonder ," Haldir's voice dropped. "which one are you?"
Faramir remained silent. The elf paused, and deliberately studied him
longer.
"I'm not entirely sure I can classify you as a shy little virgin,"
mused the elf. "No, you would have looked a little more shocked than
you do." He was deliberately provoking for a reaction, needing to have
something else to concentrate on other than Orophin's words. "Which
means, of course.,"
"You believe I would try and seduce my rangers?" Faramir's voice, when
it came, was perfectly level. A little too perfectly.
"As it happens," Haldir watched him carefully. Faramir smiled to himself.
"I don't need them distracted."
"And when you can relax for a night? When you need something to take
your mind from the day to day routine?" Haldir noticed Faramir's narrowing
of his eyes immediately. "Yes," he continued in a low voice. "I could
believe that you would know how to squirm delightfully under another
man's body,"
"I don't squirm under anyone," Faramir's voice was a lot sharper than
Haldir had expected, the rare steel inserted. The ranger's posture was
alert, eyes flashing.
"Do you not?" responded the elf politely. "Interesting. In which case,
it is no wonder that you have not slept with your brother. He did not
seem the submissive type either," Haldir's expression was amused. "although
I hear that he's now open to persuasion,"
It was clear the ranger did not know how to react. There was a fierce
fire blazing in the young man's eyes, his hands already formed into
fists, but Faramir still managed to cling on to his self control, his
sheer force of willpower demanding that his body stay seated. The elf
watched curiously, waiting to see which would win. Finally Faramir looked
away, his body relaxing slightly. Haldir smiled to himself. The boy
definitely had potential.
He deliberately ran his eyes down the young man's half dressed body.
"You," he said after a lengthy pause. "need a bath,"
Haldir smiled at Faramir's suddenly startled expression. Ah yes, the
child was most entertaining indeed! Now all he had to do was to get
him into a fit state of cleanliness and the possibilities would be overwhelming.
"There you are," Aragorn's voice was definitely impatient, although
he was obviously trying to keep it under control. "Where were you? I
come back and the room's empty,"
Boromir paused guiltily in the corridor where Arwen and Rumil had left
him, feeling as though he had been caught red handed. He glanced back
towards Aragorn about to speak, when he realised with a shock that the
ranger was not alone. Legolas lingered near the rear, his dark blue
eyes watching him with all the interest of a hunter sensing prey, although
it was still surprisingly soft.
The Gondorian dragged his eyes back to Aragorn who was stood stiffly,
arms folded, watching his lover. A quick decision was made.
"I was with Arwen," he confessed after another moment of uncomfortable
silence, then cursed himself for not being more imaginative and keeping
the she-elf out of the conversation entirely. Aragorn's expression had
tightened, although Boromir couldn't tell whether this was from surprise
or anything else. Legolas also looked faintly shocked by the admission.
"And what were you doing?" Aragorn's voice was clipped. Boromir stared
at him, the tone faintly registering as jealousy although that was obviously
ridiculous.
"We were just talking," Boromir could see the query already in Aragorn's
eyes and hastened to continue. "About the Fellowship. I just needed
.. well.," He shrugged helplessly. Aragorn looked slightly mollified
by the explanation, and glanced towards Legolas who had a particularly
neutral expression.
"We have been asked to find you," Aragorn continued, a little more
softly.
"Lord Elrond wishes to speak to you," added the elf when Aragorn seemed
to be failing to speed up the conversation.
Lord Elrond! Boromir had completely forgotten about the elf lord's
request. Boromir nodded, slightly dazed.
"I will go immediately,"
Legolas gave Aragorn a small side glance. Boromir frowned as the ranger
shrugged back, and gazed towards the Gondorian with an apologetic air.
"We have been asked to escort you," Aragorn said finally, uncomfortably.
"Why?" Boromir's eyes slid between the pair, his voice harder than
usual.
"There is nothing to concern yourself over," said Legolas smoothly.
"I've just been summoned to speak to the Lord of this realm with two
escorts and this isn't deemed to be concerning?" Boromir's tone was
back to sarcasm. Aragorn straightened his back.
"Just come with us, Boromir." Aragorn definitely seemed to be in an
odd mood. Boromir watched him briefly before nodding and stepped forward
to follow them towards the requested chambers. He felt an odd urge to
flee, to run before he could find out what the elf lord wanted with
him. His imagination was already running wild with him, possible horrors
that had befallen Gondor whilst he and Faramir were away springing to
the front of his mind. His father was no longer the field soldier he
once was. The shadow could have easily taken advantage of such a situation.
He was a fool to have left!
Boromir glanced back confused as they reached the door and both his
escorts moved to allow him to pass.
"You're not coming?" he asked Aragorn. The ranger hesitated, then shook
his head. After a moment's pause, Boromir pushed open the door, glancing
back at Aragorn before entering the chambers. The elf lord was stood
behind his desk, looking out of the window over the tranquil scene of
Rivendell. He looked back.
"Ah, Lord Boromir," Elrond moved away from the window and nodded to
the obviously cautious Gondorian who hovered a few paces past the door.
"Thank you for agreeing to see me at such short notice. I do realise
that you have much to prepare."
"It is my pleasure, my lord." Boromir unstuck his limbs and walked
slightly further into the room.
"Drink?"
"No thank you,"
"Well, I will not delay my reasoning for bringing you here. Please
sit down," Elrond gestured to the chair which was in front of the table.
Big and padded though it obviously was, the mere thought sent a shiver
down Boromir's spine. He tried to put on the most casual expression
he could, feeling his injuries throb at the mere thought of pressure.
"I would prefer to stand, my lord,"
"As you wish," carefully Elrond put his finger tips together, obviously
considering his next sentence. Boromir felt his own heart rate pick
up, galloping horses within his veins. "I have had word from your father,"
he said finally.
"My father? What does he say?" Boromir stared at him, biting down the
query of why his father also chose not to write directly to him.
Elrond's manner was nonchalant, but the elf was watching the mortal
carefully as he spoke again. "Unfortunately, it appears that your brother
is missing in action."
Boromir stared at him, trying to stop the relief from spreading through
his muscles. Old news. He struggled with a suitable expression, knowing
full well that Elrond's full attention was on him. There was normally
very little that escaped his notice. To come this far and to fall at
the last fence would be too hard to bear.
"Your father appears to think we hold him in Rivendell," the elf lord
continued when it was obvious Boromir was speechless. The look of shock
on the Gondorian's face was nowhere near an act at that news.
"What?"
"He also believes," Elrond added, tapping his finger against his desk
gently. "that you are being held here against your will,"
An uncomfortable look was noticeable on Boromir, the man remembering
that he still had not sent through the message that he promised Aragorn.
He shook his head as though to clear it. Elrond watched him carefully.
"I was hoping you might have some information regarding your brother.
Whether there has been anything unusual recently."
Boromir shook his head slowly again. "I am not aware of anything new.
Faramir still leads the Ithilien rangers, and their enemies are as they
have always been,"
"Any visitors recently?"
"No."
"Hmmm," Elrond looked down at his hands idly. The silence lengthened
to uncomfortable levels. Boromir coughed to hide his embarrassment.
"What does my father say he will do?" he asked finally. Elrond shrugged
delicately. Boromir was suddenly reminded exactly whose father he was
facing after that little display of mannerisms. Arwen obviously learnt
from the best.
"I believe the threat is general," he replied. Boromir sighed heavily.
"I should never have left," he said bitterly. Elrond raised an eyebrow.
"Speaking for the free peoples of Middle Earth, we are all extremely
grateful that you did." The elf lord's tone was not unfriendly. "Faramir
was on a routine scouting mission when he was taken. Even if you were
still at Minas Tirith you would have been unlikely to have been able
to do anything about this. Do not blame yourself, Boromir. We will do
all we can,"
"But what can you do?" replied Boromir, his eyes scanning Elrond's,
wondering whether he could speak freely to the elf lord and request
protection for himself and his brother. But he knew he couldn't protect
Faramir forever. Each scouting mission, each trip outside the walls
of the White City, he would be worried sick of any elf retaliation.
And retaliation there would be if he involved a lord of an elf realm
in his battles.
"We are currently investigating," Elrond sighed. "I know this will
be of no comfort to you, but it is the best we can do under the circumstances.
We will let you know of any developments,"
Boromir thought about this, and nodded. "Thank you,"
"If you think of anything else, please inform me immediately, no matter
how small," Elrond nodded back to him, an indication that the meeting
was over, and stood from his chair. "Thank you for your attendance,
Boromir,"
Boromir gave a short bow out of courtesy, and swiftly went to leave.
Since the moment that Boromir had stepped within the room, Aragorn
had been aware of Legolas' eyes on him. Since the ranger had vowed to
wait until his lover emerged, Aragorn had positioned himself near the
window, trying to ignore the obvious queries that were waiting to be
spoken and staring out the window with quiet and firm dedication.
The elf, true to form, had said absolutely nothing. His expression
was faintly one of accusation.
"Whatever it is," Aragorn said after a while, realising that he was
unlikely to get out of this without saying anything. "I'm not in the
mood."
"You and Boromir seem close," commented Legolas finally. Aragorn glared
a little harder out of the window.
"Do we?" Aragorn tried to relax his jaw. "I suppose it's due to having
a similar outlook,"
Legolas cocked his head slightly to one side in order to study Aragorn
a little further. "Because you are both linked to Gondor?" he asked
innocently. However, even he was taken aback by the sheer ferocity of
the glare that aimed itself at him.
"I do not wish to talk about it," growled Aragorn. Legolas kept himself
on his toes.
"Does Arwen know of your .. outlook?"
"I do not wish to talk about her either," the ranger stared back out
of the window. Legolas raised an eyebrow.
"Perhaps we should speak of the weather instead," he suggested dryly.
"Legolas, please let me be." Aragorn considered walking away from this
persistent inquisition, but he had no idea how long Boromir was likely
to be. He sighed angrily, and stared even harder out the window. "I
am well aware of your opinions in the matter. You do not need to speak
any further with regards to them."
Legolas looked faintly surprised.
"My opinions?" he echoed. Aragorn glared round at him.
"Don't play innocent," he snapped. "I am well aware that you've never
agreed with my union with Arwen, and quite frankly I'm getting a little
tired of it. Of other people's views rammed down my throat, of having
to do this that and the other all for the sake of .. what, tradition.
Destiny?" he spat, and shook his head, looking away again. "I want no
part of it."
"And yet you are willing to marry your foster father's daughter." Legolas
stared at him levelly. "Is that not for other motives?"
Aragorn snorted. "Well, it's not for tradition." His eyes turned back
to the door, behind which his lover was speaking to said foster father,
feeling the now familiar trickle of fear that Elrond would discover
their link. He would not understand, Aragorn knew this. Legolas noticed
the direction of the gaze, the desolate expression, and his own expression
softened.
"You are certain there is nothing you wish to talk about, Estel?" he
said gently. Aragorn snapped back into the conversation, and stared
at him again.
"And you would like it, wouldn't you, if there were some agreement
between Boromir and myself," he snapped. Legolas shrugged.
"As it happens, yes," Legolas stared at him. "You are mortal, Estel.
You do not have the time to readjust your mistakes."
"You don't even know him and yet you are encouraging me to join with
him?" Aragorn's voice was bitter.
"I may not know Boromir well, but I certainly have a good idea with
regards to Arwen."
"You've never liked her."
"Agreed." Legolas shrugged again. "I have no idea why you do."
"The possibility that she might be able to work out her own problems
without needing me?" Aragorn snapped, his fingers drumming on the window
sill in his agitation. Legolas watched him.
"You're my friend, Estel," the elf said gently. "If I can help in
any way.," he sighed and stared forlornly at the firm straightness of
Aragorn's back. "Will you go back to Gondor with him?" he asked finally.
"Do not speak of it." The fingers stilled.
"Estel-"
"No. I mean it. Stop."
Legolas bowed his head slightly. "As you wish." The sound of the door
opening behind him signified the end of their discussion, the elf's
eyes sliding back to Boromir who had emerged looking shaken, staring
at the corridor as though he had no recollection of where he was. Aragorn
had turned from the window and was about to speak when Elrond appeared
within the doorway.
"Estel. A quick word if I may,"
Legolas and Aragorn exchanged the briefest of looks. The elf stepped
forward.
"Boromir, I will show you to your room," Legolas' voice was warm. Boromir
glanced longingly towards Aragorn, but nodded and moved forward as Aragorn
made his way into his foster father's study. The door shut smartly behind
them. Elrond wasted no time at all.
"Exactly what is the nature of your friendship with the elder son of
Gondor?" The elf lord stared sternly towards Aragorn. The ranger looked
back at him, trying to think.
"I'm not entirely sure what you mean," he said, playing for time. Elrond
saw immediately through this.
"Don't take me for a fool, Estel. That man knew before he had even
set foot in the room."
Aragorn stared at him. "But I did not tell him. I took him straight
here, as you requested," he protested.
"Regardless, he knew." Elrond stared at his foster son sharply. "Or,
at the very least, suspected. Unfortunately this now appears to have
more complexity than we had considered."
"Boromir would not harm his brother," Aragorn was quick to interject.
"He would not be involved,"
"Indeed. No doubt Mithrandir would agree with you. However. I do not
like this, Estel."
Aragorn nodded. "What would you have me do?"
Elrond paused briefly. "We cannot allow this matter to distract from
the mission. The ring must come first. However, Gondor will be even
more dangerous if we do not investigate this difficulty. Get Boromir
to talk to you," the elf lord's eyes flickered to Aragorn. "After all,
you seem close," he added softly.
Aragorn was desperate to stop this particular idea from spreading.
"Yes, I have tried to become close to him. You have always said that
I should investigate my background," Aragorn improvised. Elrond raised
an eyebrow.
"And you have always ignored me," Elrond gazed at him, then shrugged
delicately. "No matter. Find out what you can."
The elf leant forward before Aragorn could begin to make his way towards
the door.
"I am relying on you, Estel." Their eyes met.
Aragorn nodded again, slightly more cautiously, before opening the
door and slipping through it. Elrond studied the door for a few moments
more, before sighing and standing to stare out the window behind him.
It was only too obvious that Aragorn was holding secrets back. The ranger
had never been able to hide his guilt from him, ever since he was a
small boy.
Elrond considered demanding the truth, but dismissed this just as quickly.
It was likely to just be a simple crush on the elder son of Gondor which
Aragorn was attempting to keep away from Arwen. Even if Boromir did
reciprocate, Denethor would never allow such a relationship, and certainly
a closer relationship would not harm the Fellowship.
The elf mused further, then shook his head decisively. No, this secret
would have to stay secret. His faith would rest with Aragor
Part 6: Security
Faramir had approached the concept of bathing in a mixture of emotions.
After he had recovered from his initial surprise, the fact that this
was a marvellous opportunity did not pass him by. Whether the elf wished
to become intimate was almost immaterial; a bath suggested that at least
he would be taken from this empty room, with the possibility of locating
something that might aid his escape.
Haldir himself had left Faramir unattended, although had the foresight
to reattach the chain around his prisoner's ankle. The ranger gave it
another thorough examination, and came to the same conclusion as he
had so many times before. The craftsmanship was exquisite. The chances
of breaking free of this particular restraint without the necessary
key was unlikely at best. However, there was also little chance that
he would be requested to bathe whilst the chain was still attached to
him.
Biding his time, Faramir waited patiently for the elf to return. His
mind flickered briefly to the possibility that he might well have to
submit to Haldir's attentions before being in the best position to strike.
He would have only one chance, he knew that. If he failed .. well, that
would be the ruin of all of his escape plans, his carefully nurtured
trust with the elf destroyed.
Faramir had never submitted to anyone's attentions. Boromir was the
closest he had ever allowed, and even then he knew damn well his brother
had no intentions in seducing his younger brother. Boromir had not been
able to even contemplate such a suggestion, his expression one of complete
bemusement when Faramir had hinted towards it one drunken evening. Thankfully
it had all come to nothing, Faramir vowing never to even mention that
particular evening again in his brother's presence for fear of him remembering
those whispered words in the shadowy inn.
As for his lovers, well. the majority of them had been soldiers or
rangers, used to taking orders from him. The women he had bedded were
unsurprisingly similar, although fumbles with the opposite gender had
halted ever since the pregnancy scare with one of the serving girls.
An illegitimate child would never do, and certainly not one with the
common folk of Minas Tirith. His father would be disgusted with him,
the child disowned by his line.
He shrugged to himself. Now was not the time to start being fussy.
If it came to intimacy, it came to it. Seduction was probably one of
the best weapons he had at the moment, and it was not as if the elf
was unattractive. There was a particular feeling of control surrounding
Haldir, the assumption that everyone would do exactly as he wished,
the belief that this was right in the world. Denethor had the same air
about him. Things just happened exactly the way they wanted. There was
always a look of surprise and disgust if events failed to live up to
expectation.
Faramir looked up as Haldir strode back into the room. The elf was
looking particularly pleased with himself as he crouched delicately
beside his young captive, his eyes running thoughtfully along the rather
sad remains of Faramir's clothing. The ranger watched him cautiously,
recognising that particular expression. Something was about to get decided.
"The bath will be ready shortly," the elf announced, his eyes still
thoughtful on Faramir's breeches.
"Oh. Good." The young ranger was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable
by the attention, not entirely understanding Haldir's motivations behind
the assessment to be able to prepare his answers or actions. He knew
that elves were often fussy with their own appearances. It might simply
be a case where the elf wished to improve his prisoner's hygiene. Faramir
weighed the risks, and decided to press forward. "Will it be brought
in here?"
"Hmmmph ?" Haldir glanced up at him, as though his mind had been forced
from a highly complex matter to focus on the ranger in front of him.
"No. The next room."
Faramir felt a warm glow of relief fill him. The next room. It was
unmistakable that the room he sat in was the cell that the she-elf had
intended until whatever purpose had been fulfilled. Another room being
involved suggested that rules were being rewritten.
Haldir gave the breeches a light tug at the leg.
"I shall have to find you more suitable clothes than that," he added.
"I suppose," Faramir said lightly, moving his head forward so his fringe
covered his eyes. "Not unless you wish for me to stay here naked," His
voice was light and casual, though his eyes watched Haldir like a hawk.
Annoyingly, the elf was still unreadable, although it had obviously
stopped whatever he was about to say. Not that Faramir was destined
ever to know; a thud from behind the doors signified the appearance
of the bath water, and the elf moved gracefully away to deal with this
planned intrusion, carefully shutting the door behind him.
The human smiled to himself and waited.
Aragorn knew something was wrong as soon as he stepped through the
door. Boromir was stood by the window, staring out with a quiet steady
resolution, not bothering to look towards whoever had entered the chambers.
The ranger paused, eyes firmly fixed upon his lover. Of Legolas there
was no sign, although this was hardly unusual for the Prince of Mirkwood.
Giving the room a quick check, Aragorn moved towards the Gondorian.
"Well?" the voice was tired yet careless, as though its owner had completely
given up on whatever life had to throw at him. So very unlike the proud,
aggressive warrior who had cantered through the gates of Rivendell seemingly
so long ago, vowing to do what he could to aid his beloved Gondor.
"Well what?" the ranger decided to continue on his original course
of action. The shoulder he laid his hand on was almost solid with tension.
Aragorn frowned. "What's wrong?"
Boromir laughed quietly. It was not a happy laugh. "Surely you have
heard?" he threw over his shoulder.
"Your brother?"
The Gondorian failed to reply to him, merely staring out the window.
Aragorn ran his tongue across suddenly dry lips, and tried to knead
a little more life into the shoulder. It was like caressing a statue.
"Who do you think have seized him?" Aragorn asked quietly. Boromir
said nothing, neither did he move. It was as though speaking to one
already dead. "Boromir?"
"I cannot say," growled the warrior finally, reluctantly. "I do not
know,"
And yet the posture was wrong. Aragorn stared at him, remembering his
usual forthrightness. He would have sworn to all that Boromir would
have strode off at first light if either Gondor or his brother was threatened,
to put action before anything, to try to do something. This absence
of activity was more concerning than the news. His father was right.
He did know something, and that something stopped him from fighting.
"There was nothing unusual? No threats, no additional enemy activity?"
Aragorn pressed. Boromir shrugged slightly, negatively. Aragorn shook
his head angrily. "Come on, Boromir! Give me something. You know Gondor
better than I, you know who is most likely to do such a thing. Help
us find your brother,"
"I cannot tell you that which I do not know," Boromir's voice was almost
unnervingly steady. Aragorn growled in frustration.
"Boromir," his voice dropped lower, serious, moving slightly so he
could see the younger man's face. "For the Valar's sake, help me. Who
knows what they could be doing to your brother in the meantime? For
every moment that passes he could be tortured .. beaten," his eyes narrowed,
watching Boromir's expression carefully. ".. raped or killed,"
A flicker of desolation, of absolute misery passed over Boromir's face,
although his eyes never wavered from the window. Aragorn stared at him
incredulously.
"And you already know this, don't you,"
"Please Aragorn. I can't do anything here. You know this. I know this.
Let it go," Boromir was almost pleading now, yet he never moved from
the window. The ranger shook his head again, and stared exasperated
around the room as though seeking something.
"Did you wish to go back to Gondor?" he asked slowly, reluctantly.
He could see Boromir finally move slightly, stare towards Aragorn with
a look of surprise and suspicion, as though not daring to hope.
"Would it do any good?" The Gondorian's voice was gruff but they could
both hear its wishful tone. Aragorn shrugged. Boromir sighed, and looked
back towards the window. "And we both know I cannot. The Fellowship
begins shortly. I cannot abandon it before we have even started."
The ranger watched him a little longer. "We need to talk about the
situation, Boromir, find out as much as possible." His voice was soft.
Boromir snorted.
"Yes, I remember the last time we 'talked'." Boromir's glare met Aragorn's
surprised one. "No."
The ranger paused, a guilty and regretful expression appearing. Feeling
that he might have gone a little too far, Boromir looked back at the
window. "No," he repeated softly.
"You would feel better talking about it.-" Aragorn began, but Boromir
cut him off almost immediately.
"Funny, I seem to remember saying something similar to you about Gondor.
And you didn't want to know," Angry light green eyes stared at him briefly.
Aragorn stiffened automatically.
"That's different," his voice was strained. Boromir laughed once to
himself.
"Nice. How?"
"Well, it's. for Valar's sake, Boromir, at least you could face me
whilst you're talking." Fear and guilt had fuelled Aragorn's anger.
Boromir stared at him sullenly but obeyed, turning and resting himself
against the ledge of the window.
"You could help your brother by talking to me," Aragorn scanned his
lover's eyes. "That's what you want, yes? To help him?"
There was an unreadable expression on Boromir's face. Aragorn was exasperated.
"Well, don't you? You want to just leave him there?"
The Gondorian looked away, his misery settling back. The ranger sighed,
and put his hand on Boromir's shoulder, trying to get him to look at
him properly.
"Please, Boromir. Any information may be valuable." Aragorn's voice
was soft, gentle, trying to coax the answer from him. The Gondorian
seemed to be coming to a decision, finally bringing his gaze to rest
on Aragorn.
"I'll talk about it," he said finally, eyes guarded. "If you talk
about Gondor with me,"
Aragorn let out a hiss of exasperation, but nodded. "Agreed,"
This apparently surprised Boromir, who simply gazed at him. "You do?"
he echoed in disbelief.
The ranger forced a smile. "Yes,"
Now all he had to do was find enough to talk about.
The next room was indeed intended as a dedicated bathroom. Faramir
had not dared to hope for such an opportunity as this. Haldir had already
removed the ankle chain, although his steady observation on his charge
suggested that the elf was not quite the pushover that Faramir had hoped
for. And now he had been briefly left alone.
The ranger surveyed the room swiftly. The bath was full of hot steaming
water, taking much of the floor space. Only one door led from this chamber,
back towards the room where Haldir sat, and presumably the door leading
towards the outside or, more likely, a corridor. The windows were long
and narrow, too narrow for even a child to consider fitting through
the space, four of them casting daylight into the room in strange lined
pattern.
The room itself was bare enough, but still items had been left for
day to day use. A silver backed comb and a pair of scissors sat on a
chest of drawers in front of a large ornate mirror. Towels had been
left on a velvet upholstered stool, awaiting use. Vials and bottles
of what appeared to be perfumes sat neatly in rows on a shelf, together
with obvious bars of soap.
Faramir's eyes drifted back to the scissors and the chest of drawers.
With a cautious look towards the door, he carefully opened the top drawer,
mindful of any squeak that the older piece of furniture might give.
Silently, it pulled outwards, Faramir's gaze flickering back to the
doorway every few moments to check. Nothing. The ranger gave a hiss
of annoyance, then moved the drawer back. No doubt all of them held
the same, clothing or further items of material. He had been hoping
for some type of blade implement, although he seemed to remember that
the elvish race did not grow beards as did the men. Blades were probably
less likely to be found in a bathroom.
The ranger's eyes found the scissors again. They were crude, but at
least a weapon. If he struck with that, he needed to be sure. He needed
to get a good blow in, and go for the most vulnerable spot he could.
For the first time in his plans, Faramir hesitated, his eyes resting
on the scissors. If he was successful, he might do serious harm to the
elf who had shown him more concern than his father had ever done. However,
he was not just doing this for him. It was for Boromir as well, his
beloved elder brother who was put in an impossible position simply because
of Faramir's own stupidity. For every moment that he hesitated, his
brother could be going through anything.
For Boromir he would do this.
Faramir swiftly undressed, carefully taking the scissors and hiding
them under the bundle of clothes he left on the floor. He slid into
the hot water, sighing as he did so, feeling long tense muscles begin
to unravel and soothe in the warmth. Haldir had left a bar of soap nearby
which was quickly seized; the scent seemed familiar somehow but Faramir
could not place it for the life of him.
He washed quickly, not allowing himself to become complacent in the
warmth of the room. He had work to do. The young ranger gave another
quick scan of the room to make sure he had not missed anything, before
getting from the bath and gathering his clothes in a bundle in his arms,
scissors carefully hidden from view. Then, without bothering to cover
himself, he opened the door and walked back into the chambers where
the elf was waiting.
Aragorn hadn't managed to get much out of Boromir, but at least it
had been a start. The Gondorian obviously had no idea where to begin
or what sort of information Aragorn wanted, and gave broken answers
to the questions that Aragorn posed. The ranger had known Boromir would
be upset - who wouldn't? - but the level of distress that was in his
voice perplexed Aragorn. It was as though the Gondorian had already
accepted he could do nothing to assist his brother, had almost already
given his up for dead when Aragorn knew damn well Boromir would try
to move Mordor itself if it would help, or die trying.
They were also going round in circles. No one had arrived. No new enemies.
No suspicious actions. No new rangers who had joined Faramir's select
group. Nothing.
Aragorn paced towards the window again, deep in thought. He was aware
of Boromir's eyes on him as he stood there, the Gondorian having found
himself a suitable and comfortable spot to lie on the bed during the
discussion. Well, he said discussion. Interrogation seemed to be a better
word. Any information Boromir held had to be pried from him.
"Do you want me to go to Gondor?" he said finally, his back turned
to Boromir. There was a long, long pause.
"I told you. There would be no point," sighed Boromir finally.
"Not with regards to Faramir. If I were to accompany you back there,"
Aragorn's voice was level. "Would you want me to?"
"Of course," the surprise in Boromir's voice was plain to hear. As
was the other. Hope.
"Not that we would be able to return there until the Fellowship has
finished," added Aragorn, concentrating hard on Boromir's tone of voice.
"I agree," Boromir definitely sounded more positive. In fact, more
positive than he had done for some time. Aragorn frowned to himself.
He had never realised exactly how strained Boromir had sounded until
that strain had lifted. And by what? His sodding destiny once again.
He was perplexed as to why Boromir would need confirmation of his loyalty
to him now, however. They were not due to part for some time, and Aragorn
had never given him any indication that he would abandon his lover.
"Are you having difficulties with your father?" Aragorn voiced a possibility
idly. Denethor could well be a reason why Boromir did not respond immediately
to Faramir's situation, the elder brother having to take the father's
wishes instead. Although why Denethor would wish to frame the elves
was an altogether complex matter.
"No?" There was that surprise again, as though Boromir hadn't even
considered it. Aragorn frowned again.
"What would you say to your father if I turned up with you?"
There was hesitation from the bed. Obviously Boromir hadn't even considered
the matter. The importance seemed to be entirely that Aragorn would
go, not what they would do when they got there. Aragorn bit his lip
as he thought. Boromir might be hasty on occasion, but to completely
disregard his father was .. well, baffling. It was almost certain that
Denethor would protest at any companion Boromir brought back, whether
he knew Aragorn's lineage or not.
"Well, I'd talk to him," the Gondorian said after a few more moments
pause. "Explain the matter,"
"Does he know you prefer men?" Aragorn casually glanced back at Boromir,
and was slightly stunned when Boromir completely avoided his gaze. Evidentially
not. Not that this was surprising; traditions and heredity needed heirs.
Their offspring's comforts and pleasures took second place.
Aragorn, to Boromir's relief, left the subject of whether Denethor
had any suspicions that his elder son was sleeping with those of his
own gender. Boromir managed to release the breath he had been holding
silently, and vowed to work out the best way to inform Aragorn that,
until extremely recently, women had been the preference. Just not now.
That was an emotional hurdle and he had more than enough to jump today
as it was.
"Did you want to talk it over? Going to Gondor?"
"Sorry?" Boromir snapped back into the conversation.
"The practicalities. What we'd do once we got there," Aragorn was watching
him like a hawk. Boromir shrugged and looked up at him, glimmer in his
eyes.
"You're definitely planning to go?" The tone in his voice clearly showed
the correct answer was yes. Aragorn nodded, and watched with a half
smile on his face at Boromir's sheer relief. The Gondorian closed his
eyes briefly, then almost bounced to his feet in a moment of energy
Aragorn had not seen for many days. Allowing himself to be pulled into
an embrace, Aragorn relaxed automatically at the man's hands around
him, kissing the soft sensitive skin of Boromir's neck.
"Didn't know it meant that much to you," he murmured.
"I needed to know," murmured back Boromir. Aragorn smiled and kissed
him again, disentangling himself from the Gondorian. Boromir frowned
at him, confused, and ran his hand down Aragorn's front encouragingly.
Aragorn seized hold of the hand and stopped its progress, although delighted
that Boromir's humour had returned to that extent. If he'd had known
what pleasures simply confirming going to Gondor would have given his
lover he would have considered it long ago, and saved himself the regular
queries from Arwen-
Aragorn frowned himself.
No. Impossible. It wasn't even if they were on speaking terms, let
alone Boromir doing Arwen any sort of favour without strong motivations
to do so.
He realised Boromir was looking at him in concern, and managed to get
his expression back to one that was Boromir-approved. The Gondorian
was certainly more relaxed now than he had ever been, his hands playful
all over the ranger in front of him. He managed to get Aragorn into
another long kiss, this time the ranger losing his abilities to resist.
Pressing back against Boromir, Aragorn immediately took possession,
smiling as the younger man allowed him his moment of dominance. He knew
damn well Boromir would try to re-seize the initiative in a sneakier
manner later on in their fumblings.
The Gondorian finally and reluctantly released Aragorn, and pulled
him slightly towards the bed.
"Come on. We'll have time," Green eyes implored him in a manner the
ranger knew he could never resist. "After that I'll tell you everything
you could possibly want to know about Faramir,"
The very world froze. The older man finally managed to speak through
his rapidly dried throat.
"Faramir?" he croaked.
And suddenly Aragorn found the strong motivation he had been dreading.
He was aware of Haldir's eyes on him as soon as he walked into the
chamber. Faramir carefully put the clothing down, allowing the elf time
to assess him, before standing up again and looking towards him.
"Well," Haldir's voice was warmer than usual. "You appear to scrub
up well,"
Faramir gave a wary smile that was only partially created. He took
a few steps away from the pile of clothes he had purposefully put near
the rug, trying to put caution and shyness into each movement he made.
Haldir's eyes were clearly on his body, which gave him some confidence.
"You want me to please you?" Faramir's voice was soft. Haldir raised
an eyebrow.
"On my terms," the elf said, equally steady, a cool aloofness to him.
Faramir began to fear he had read him incorrectly, until the elf's gaze
flickered across him again. Feeling confidence grow, the ranger took
the last few steps towards him and began to sink to his knees before
Haldir stopped him and pulled him back up. His mouth found the elf's
so incredibly easily, Faramir smiling inwardly as Haldir reacted to
him.
Haldir himself had anticipated the kiss before Faramir had even left
the bathroom. The state the young man had wandered into the room had
left no question as to the young man's desires, the hair darkened and
slicked back from the water, moisture still clinging to the young man's
limbs. Oh yes, the offer was quite expected.
What he hadn't expected was the sheer life of the man, the taste of
him somehow completely untamed. As he let himself explore the man's
mouth, he could feel Faramir fighting his own side, not allowing Haldir
complete domination. The elf had already pressed himself to the ranger,
feeling the heat of the young man against the palms of his hands, the
moisture on Faramir's body a soon distant memory. Haldir realised he
was almost being used as a towel. The kiss was made by no amateur either.
Despite Faramir's tremblings, the man was obviously used to a romantic
situation, his head angled carefully, his tongue gently probing.
Haldir pulled the ranger closer, his hands exploring over tight strong
muscles. He could feel Faramir shiver against him, could feel the familiar
heat of excitement from both of them. Haldir ran his fingers over the
raised scars of Faramir's back, feeling the man shudder against him
but refusing to break the kiss with stubborn determination.
Haldir finally pulled away, conscious how flustered he was feeling
although he kept his expression under tight control. He smiled at the
slightly confused expression on the young man's face, recognising the
faint touches of fear.
"I'm curious," he said softly. "What did you plan to do now?"
Faramir stared at him, then dropped his eyes, shaking his head. Haldir
chuckled to himself and put his finger underneath Faramir's chin, lifting
the young man's head and gently pressing his lips to the ranger's briefly.
"So coy," he murmured.
Faramir didn't say anything as Haldir led him further into the room,
although halted suddenly as he realised exactly where the elf was leading
him. Of course, the cell was the only room with what appeared to be
a bed. Haldir looked back at him, frowning, then shook his head, mistaking
Faramir's concern.
"It's okay, young one. You have done nothing wrong,"
Faramir still refused to move. Haldir narrowed his eyes in assessment.
"Could I not pleasure you out here?" Sorrowful blue-green eyes turned
to the elf imploringly, although the words almost seemed blurted out.
Haldir hesitated, not so much from caution of Faramir but of whoever
would walk through the door. However, the ranger's anxiety did seem
much stronger; he was almost shifting from foot to foot in his concern.
Haldir considered the matter thoughtfully, enjoying making the young
man squirm under his eyes. He let his gaze drift across the young firm
body thoughtfully, so different to the others he had bedded. Compared
to the elves, even the fine downy hair on his chest seemed exotic and
somehow dangerous. And young, ah yes, so very young, a mind not even
reaching the very beginnings of experience. And yet.
The elf shook himself mentally. It was one thing to be fascinated.
It was quite another to be obsessed.
"As you wish." The elf purred gently, deciding that it was probably
easiest to allow the young man his choice of venue. After all, he might
have some experience of his own sex but still nothing to compare to
an elf's demands. Faramir bowed slightly, the little outward breath
of relief not created, and turned to make his way back to the rug and
the area he had chosen. He knew that the elf's eyes were on him as he
walked, no doubt noting the few scars that marred the smooth skin of
his hindquarters.
Haldir watched him idly, wondering whether Boromir bore similar injuries
to his brother. The whip marks on Faramir's behind looked lighter than
his back, but no less vivid against the skin. As Faramir reached the
rug and carefully sat down, the young man glanced towards him again,
no doubt wondering why he was waiting. The ranger leant back slightly,
resting on his hands, watching Haldir with what was unmistakable challenge
in those sea-flecked eyes.
Faramir waited, tense, anticipating, as though in the middle of a hunt.
He controlled his breathing carefully, feeling the usual thrill of the
chase race through his veins. His hand itched to drift under the pile
of clothes towards the makeshift weapon, but he forced himself to wait.
Patience was the key. After all, with patience a hunter did not need
to hunt down his prey.
The prey would come to him.
"I've been looking for you," A figure detached himself from the shadows
of the gardens, moving towards the she-elf who had been walking towards
the main buildings. Arwen cursed her preoccupied mind, and turned to
face her betrothed, keeping her expression neutral although she feared
that the curt clipped tones might still be present in her voice. Now
was not a good time to play happy families, especially as she had a
sneaking suspicion the topic was going to be about the pet.
Boromir's presence was beginning to become taxing and slightly dangerous.
She had never believed that Aragorn would have fallen for some mere
soldier, even if said soldier was of Denethor's bloodline. Obviously
she had underestimated sheer physical desire.
"Aragorn. I expected you to be with him." Arwen shrugged lightly. "It
is of no matter. You have me now," She narrowed her eyes slightly, assessing
Aragorn's expression. "What is it?"
Aragorn stepped forward slowly. "What is it?" he echoed dangerously.
"You kidnap someone and you ask what concerns me?" He took another few
steps, completely ridding himself of the cloak the shadows afforded
him. Hurt was etched over his face. Arwen stilled briefly, assessing
how much information her betrothed was likely to know.
"Kidnapped someone?" her eyes scanned his, with a surprised yet tender
expression behind them. "My love! What is this that you speak of? Who
is this person that you accuse me of kidnapping?"
The ranger, however, was not to be fooled with expressions and sweet
words. "You are well aware of whom I speak. Lord Faramir, younger son
of the Steward of Gondor."
Arwen gazed at him. "And you believe that I have done this?"
"Yes." There wasn't a trace of hesitation in his voice.
"Despite my being in Rivendell for the past five months?" Arwen watched
the expression as the hesitancy was inserted. Ah! Not quite as knowledgeable
as he made out. "My efficiency obviously knows no bounds,"
"You had help," Aragorn managed to hide his uncertainty in his voice,
but Arwen could see it so clearly in his eyes.
"Oh! I see. Yes, that would make sense," she pondered. "Who would
that be, my love?" She watched him carefully as he struggled with his
answer. No, Aragorn's knowledge appeared to be on guesswork and possibly
a tiny amount of fact that might have come into his possession. However,
it was disturbing that he had come up with such a theory in the first
place. It had to be Boromir. Obviously she had underestimated the Gondorian's
ability to keep his mouth shut.
"It does not matter who," Aragorn growled. "Where is he?"
Arwen looked at him, noting the way his eyes wavered slightly as she
held the stern gaze. "Surely you should be demanding the reason first?"
she queried. "What would I do or want with the younger son of Lord Denethor?"
Aragorn snorted with laughter. "Gondor. What else? You have been trying
to get me there since the very first time we were together,"
"A little harsh," And she found she was hurt by his assumptions. True,
Gondor had been very close to her heart. However, to believe that was
the sole reason for their union was distressing at best. "I cannot deny
that I believe that your true potential will only be realised at Gondor,
where you will no longer be overshadowed by the twins. However, this
is done with your best interests at heart."
"The twins. They were the ones who helped," Aragorn's expression grew
stony. Arwen allowed a genuine look of amusement cross her face.
"You believe Elrohir or Elladan would do anything of that nature to
assist me? If you're going to make wild assumptions Aragorn, please
have the common curtsey of applying your mind," The accusation still
stung.
However, Aragorn was barely listening, having considered something
further.
"How long has Boromir been doing as you say?" he asked slowly, his
eyes turned to her in almost an appeal against the thought that he had
just had. Arwen was about to respond when Aragorn grabbed hold of her
arm, and not gently. She stared at him, genuinely surprised.
"Boromir has never listened to a word I -" she trailed off as the hand
tightened. She stared at him incredulously, a hint of anger flickering
in her gaze.
"How." snarled Aragorn. "Long?" Anger and upset were clear on his face.
"I know you have his brother, Arwen. Don't treat me for any more of
a fool than you already have."
Arwen watched him impassively. Aragorn growled in his throat.
"Fine," he snapped. "we shall simply see how Lord Elrond wishes to
deal with this matter,"
For the first time in the conversation Arwen's eyes flickered an emotion.
"My father does not have to be concerned with your little fancies,"
she said finally. Aragorn shook his head.
"I rather think that he does,"
"You have no evidence," Arwen scanned his eyes. "Whereas I could easily
find a reason for such an accusation,"
"What?" Aragorn frowned.
"Boromir's very presence in your bed,"
They stared at each other carefully. Aragorn released her arm, watching
her as she delicately de-creased the fabric to hide any indication of
the treatment, her eyes still steady on him.
"Boromir would confirm your activities in his brother's kidnap," lied
Aragorn finally. Arwen shrugged slightly.
"I would assume nothing less from a good lover,"
There was another long pause. Aragorn shook his head finally, and glared
out at the gardens before turning his gaze back onto the she elf in
front of him.
"I just want Faramir. Give him to me and .. I'll forget the whole matter
of your betrayal,"
Arwen was taken aback by this, forgetting even to be affronted by the
accusation of betrayal. "Forget the entire matter?" she echoed softly.
"I'll make a deal with you," Aragorn said steadily. "Just give him
back."
Arwen scanned him, cautiously. Aragorn's distress for the young ranger
had not been expected, although certainly she had envisaged some type
of concern. "Why do you care so much about his welfare?" she asked slowly.
"He's the younger son of my Steward. Relationships would no doubt be
frayed should any harm come to him." Aragorn's gaze was firm, his voice
radiating his certainty.
"Your steward?" Arwen stressed the first word, her eyes interested
in the implications. Aragorn nodded shortly.
"Do we have a deal?"
Arwen smiled. "I rather think that we do." She watched him turn to
leave and smiled to herself again. "Oh, and Aragorn?"
"What?" he glanced over his shoulder. Arwen cocked her head to one
side.
"Isn't it nice doing something as a couple?"
Had ever anything been quite such a bad idea? mused Haldir as he walked
towards the Gondorian, who was watching him with badly hidden cautiousness
and excitement. The young ranger had deliberately moved himself into
a position where he was not hidden from Haldir's eyes in the slightest,
still seemingly trying to convince the elf of his worth and qualities.
The elf smiled to himself as he looked down at the human, then gracefully
knelt beside him, running a hand through the still damp hair.
Faramir stared at him mutely, allowing himself to be petted and allowing
himself to be drawn into a long lingering kiss. He had already felt
himself stir at the elf's previous touches, apparently his body not
having a difficulty with sleeping with his captor, the light throbbing
he already felt grow as Haldir grew more demanding, his hands sliding
over Faramir's body as the elf adjusted his own position to lie next
to the young man. The elf's clothing was an odd contrasting texture
against his skin. He watched, wide eyed, as Haldir stripped himself
of his tunic and pushed the young man back to be able to straddle him,
the elf's eyes inches away from the human's.
"So you're going to behave for me, hmmm?" the elf smiled at him, and
gently kissed him again. Faramir parted his lips at the insistent tongue,
closing his eyes slowly as the elf explored the ranger's mouth even
further. Faramir allowed this invasion without murmur, or even complaint.
It had been some time since he had felt the gentle hands of a lover
on his body, rather than the quick fast rutting that was so often the
main form of love he had at Gondor. It was a novel experience to be
in comfort, in the warmth, feeling another person's attentions unhurried
and, for the most part, uncontrolled by himself.
He felt the elf lift off him from behind his closed lids, then finally
be replaced by a naked body, so incredibly smooth against him. Skin
like silk, Haldir moved himself over Faramir, rubbing, causing the young
man to gasp softly as their erections met. Faramir moaned in the back
of his throat as warm kisses trailed down his neck and onto his chest,
hands stroking down his flanks, occasionally lightly running nails down
his increasingly sensitive skin to provide a contrast.
"Good boy," he heard Haldir murmur in genuine approval that had been
so often absence in either his relationships or childhood. Faramir squirmed
under the elf's caresses, firstly created solely to increase the elf's
desire. However, this soon changed to one of absolute need as Haldir
continued to caress and kiss him, playing with his nipples, hands sliding
over hips and what area of his buttocks he could reach, completely ignoring
the area that burnt to be touched. The ranger whimpered his frustrations,
bucking against the elf trying to obtain at least a little friction.
However, Haldir was wise to all of his moves, carelessly denying the
young ranger any relief.
"Patience," the elf admonished the man. Faramir fought against the
growl in his throat.
Haldir seemed to be completely absorbed in his thorough investigation
of the young man. Faramir fought against his natural responses and lay
as passively as he could as hands slid up his inner thighs, parting
once again to ensure that his arousal was never touched, before continuing
up the ranger's sides, feeling the muscles contract under his gentle
touch. And it was becoming extremely difficult to concentrate; Faramir's
breath was already uneven, his eyes still half closed, the occasional
moan whenever sensitive areas were reached.
The elf seemed in no hurry, and then, why should he? He was in control,
or so he thought. With their immortality, elves did not need to rush
anything, knowing that they could always come back to it at a later
stage. Faramir grasped onto his control, his willpower, and forced himself
to concentrate. Haldir was the enemy. He couldn't think of him in any
other way, he told himself fiercely.
A quick glance told him that the elf was still concentrating himself,
although it was clear that Haldir was as aroused as he was. He could
feel the gentle tremble of the elf through his body, kept in check no
doubt by Haldir's control. Faramir considered his options, and the likihood
that he would be in complete control over mind and body should he allow
it to continue.
Haldir continued to stroke and caress the young man, enjoying the little
bucks against him, the look of concentration that flashed over Faramir's
face as he stifled any moans or encouragement. Despite all the young
man's best intentions, he was still being controlled through his senses,
his body squirming underneath his own from the attention that the elf
gave him. Haldir had not missed the frustrated look that had crossed
Faramir's face when the elf deliberately ignored the area the ranger
so obviously desperately wanted him to touch. He had never seen anything
quite so erotic, in a filthy desperate sort of way.
The human was still shifting underneath him, his hands now thrown above
his head, his eyes shutting once more. Haldir smiled to himself and
bent down to take the young man's nipple in his mouth, encouraging the
little moans and gasps as he put neat even teeth to work. His eyes flickered
towards Faramir, who had managed to reopen his eyes and was now watching
him with an unreadable expression, his eyes almost dark in the light
of the room.
The sudden flash of silver out of the corner of his eyes suddenly caused
everything to be reassessed. Haldir immediately pushed himself backwards,
his arm striking out swiftly to block Faramir's swing. The sharp point
of the scissors missed the area they were aiming for, but sliced across
Haldir's arm, causing blood to weal almost immediately. The elf ignored
it and managed to grasp hold of Faramir's arm, his body weight firmly
on the human.
However, Faramir was not giving up. With a snarl, the young ranger
put his entire strength into regaining the upper hand, throwing everything
he had into throwing the elf off him. His hand still held the scissors
tightly, his eyes issuing forth the challenge. Haldir cursed himself
for being put off guard and fought back against the young man, who had
obviously hidden the majority of his strength from their previous encounters.
He had to dodge back as Faramir sliced towards his chest, shifting the
weight and allowing Faramir to roll them over with a violent shove of
his body. Cold floor pressed against the heat of Haldir's back as they
rolled off the rug, the elf staring impassively towards the young ranger
as they fought. Only sheer fury showed in Faramir's eyes.
Faramir's satisfaction in his achievement flickered dramatically as
Haldir managed to seize hold of his arm, fingers like mithril tightening
painfully over his wrist. Faramir tried to break free, pulling backwards,
but Haldir was grim dedication towards his task. His grip never faltered,
not even when Faramir backhanded him in the face as hard as he could
with his other hand. The elf grabbed hold of Faramir's left shoulder
and put his own full weight into rolling them back, twisting Faramir's
wrist sharply with his hand as he did so. Unexpected pain flooded Faramir's
arm, the young man crying out. In contrast, the elf said nothing, just
pinned him down with solemn efficiency.
The ranger had not dropped his weapon, despite the elf almost breaking
his arm. Once Haldir felt he was in a much more secure position, he
slammed Faramir's arm against a nearby chair leg hard, keeping the twist
in the arm, his eyes steady on the ranger.
"Drop it," he said in a low voice. Faramir refused to do so, his teeth
gritted against the agonising pain, knowing should he do so his only
advantage would be taken from him. To go so far and to give up .. no,
he could not do that.
Haldir slammed the arm against the chair again, harder, feeling Faramir's
struggles against his weight lessen as the pain in his arm took up most
of the young man's concentration.
Still he did not let go of the weapon.
The elf dodged out of the way of a hastily aimed blow, his hand never
slipping. Faramir desperately grabbed hold of the elf's hand, but Haldir
managed to force him back onto the floor, tightening his grip on the
now injured arm even further. Faramir let out an agonised groan.
"Drop. It." repeated the elf sternly, his eyes fixed on Faramir. A
bead of sweat rolled down the young man's face, the strain and discomfort
showing only too clearly. And still the man did not let go. Haldir growled
inwardly. He was already on the point of breaking the arm. Any further
pressure and the young man was almost certainly going to pass out, the
human's level of endurance so much lower than any elf's. However, grim
determination and sheer force of will caused the human to battle on.
"You cannot win. Let it go," Haldir tried again, his voice a growl,
his eyes fixed on Faramir, preparing to break it if he had to. The ranger
finally stared at him, defeat and sorrow showing in his eyes. He opened
his mouth to say something, then stopped, shook his head sadly, the
familiar sad blue-green stare looking back at him. There was a clatter
as the scissors dropped to the stone floor.
Haldir stared at the young man further, his grip lessening. Defeat
and pain stared at back at him, the elf feeling the young man's muscles
loosen under him. Haldir dropped hold of the injured wrist and went
to seize the scissors. Faramir immediately put his whole weight into
shoving against the elf, managing to roll him off. A strong and extremely
painful kick connected to Haldir's midriff, shoving him back further,
Haldir's grip on the scissors never failing.
Faramir scrambled to his feet, breaking for the door. Haldir kicked
out, hitting Faramir hard on the left shin, causing the young man to
stumble. Haldir righted himself immediately, grabbing hold of the ranger's
arm and completely ridding Faramir of his balance. The young man crashed
to the floor, an agonised cry as his injured arm took the brunt of the
fall. Haldir put his knee in the small of the ranger's back, the scissors
against Faramir's throat. Scissors! What a crude and completely idiotic
weapon, although at least they were sharp. Haldir could feel the blood
flowing down his own arm from Faramir's strike.
The ranger had completely stopped, although Haldir could feel the young
man breathing heavily underneath him, almost gasp-sobs. By the heaviness
of the fall, the arm could well now be broken, and broken badly. Haldir
waited for another few moments. Drops of his own blood fell on the golden
back of the young man from the cut.
"If you fight me again, I will kill you," the elf said in a low voice.
"Do you understand?"
Faramir didn't say anything. Haldir shoved his knee hard into Faramir's
back, feeling the young man's immediate jerk in response, a hiss of
pain escaping.
"Do you understand?" repeated the elf.
"Yes," Soft, muffled.
Haldir sighed to himself, and moved off the ranger, pulling him up
by a shoulder as he did so. Faramir stumbled slightly, finally getting
unsteadily to his feet, his eyes firmly fixed on the floor. The arm
was already turning a light shade of purple from wrist to elbow, the
ranger obviously favouring it. A cut had opened above Faramir's right
eye from the fall, a small amount of blood trickling down the young
man's face.
All in all, the elf had been on more successful relationships.
The elf shoved Faramir towards his original cell, cautious for any
further retaliations. However, it was clear that the young man could
no longer ignore the pain in his right arm, although he had not yet
bothered to glance at it. Faramir slumped onto the bed in his cell and
watched dispassionately as Haldir reaffixed the chain to his ankle.
"I should chain you up properly," Haldir's voice was low and accusing.
There was nothing from the ranger, who just waited for the elf to do
whatever he was going to do, head slightly bowed. A drop of blood fell
onto the bedding from the cut on his face.
Haldir stalked away only to return a few moments later, full dressed,
with the remains of Faramir's clothing in his arms. Faramir caught the
material with his left hand as Haldir threw it at him.
"I should have know better than to have assumed Men would be able to
behave," the elf snapped before leaving and slamming the door shut,
leaving Faramir alon
Part 7: Secrecy
In sheer and almost silent rage, Haldir crossed the paths of Rivendell.
His face was a mask of intense concentration, his muscles clenched like
a fist, his attention so tightly focused that to any observer it would
seem that the elf did not care of his destination. The gardens soon
turned into the outside edges of the forest. The outside edges swiftly
turned into the deep, the whisper of the leaves on the trees covering
any possible sound of Haldir's movement.
Not that there was any. Haldir walked as he always did, silently.
However, there was more than one elf who had this ability.
"What has happened?" asked a soft voice behind him. Haldir paused,
his body still as tense as it ever had been, before turning slightly
to view his brother who had appeared behind him. Orophin's eyes flickered
towards the sleeve of Haldir's tunic where a clear bloodstain had already
seeped through leaving a deep red-brown mark on the material, his eyes
coming back up to rest on Haldir's. An eyebrow was raised in question.
"Nothing important," Haldir managed to keep his voice under control.
Orophin paused, obviously searching for the best way to tackle such
an issue, when his brother beat him to it. "It does not concern you,
Orophin,"
The elf looked at him sadly. "The day that it does not concern me is
the day that we are no longer brothers," he replied, still in the
soft tones that Haldir knew so well. "I am here to see if I can help,
brother. I saw you leave. You did not look happy," Orophin shrugged
lightly. "You still do not look happy,"
"Possibly because I am being harassed by constant attention,"
snapped Haldir, regretting his words almost immediately after he had
said them. He knew Orophin meant no harm. However, the last thing he
needed was for someone's opinion to be forced upon him. Not today. Not
now.
Orophin seemed unaffected by Haldir's statement and simply looked at
him.
"Is it the human?"
"It is not your concern," Haldir repeated, finally breaking free
of the magic that held him to one position and making his way towards
the base of a large oak to sit. Orophin followed him.
"I take it that was a yes. What happened?" Orophin rested his
hand on his brother's shoulder and frowned at the tension in the muscles.
There was a snort of disgust from Haldir in answer, then silence.
"He tried to escape." Haldir said finally after a significant
pause had occurred. "Rumil was right. I should never have trusted him."
Orophin said nothing, merely looked back at him with a neutral expression.
Haldir grew impatient after a few moments of this persistent silence
and stared into the deep undergrowth. His brother finally sighed regretfully.
"It was he who caused the wound?"
"He was lucky," commented Haldir darkly. "And it is not deep,"
"Who is watching him now?" Orophin did not comment on the wound
further, his eyes still gentle on his brother. He raised an eyebrow
in surprise as Haldir did not speak. "Did you simply leave him there?"
"He is chained," came the elf's response. Orophin shook his head.
"Was he not chained when he cut you?" he reminded softly, then
stopped at the briefest expression that crossed Haldir's face. "He was
chained, brother?" The tone had turned slightly curious. Haldir
waved his hand.
"He .," Haldir bit down on the word `tricked' that would have
been spoken had he not stopped himself. Tricked implied that he had
not been intelligent, had not approached a situation without the steadiest
of cautions. "He was not chained," he said softly, finally.
"I see." Orophin's voice had returned to neutral. "So when he
was released, he attacked you,"
"He attempted to escape, yes." Haldir did not look at his brother
as he spoke, his eyes still fixed to the forest scenery.
"I assume you restrained him?" Orophin's words were mild but Haldir
reacted as though they had been angrily shouted at him. His frown deepened.
"Of course," Haldir replied through gritted teeth. Orophin studied
his brother with a look of sympathy.
"You are hurting, I understand," he said softly.
"I told you, the wound is not that great," scowled Haldir.
"I was not referring to the wound," Orophin said sympathetically.
His brother slowly turned his head to stare at him, a flicker of emotion
crossing his gaze.
"Exactly what does that mean?" His voice was frosty. Either his
brother did not notice or did not care. Orophin cocked his head to one
side and looked back at him, not flinching away from the steady glare
that his brother was aiming in his direction.
"I know how you care for the captive."
"Care? For that animal?" spat Haldir. "I think not. He is a task,
nothing more,"
"A task?" echoed Orophin. "Then may I ask again, brother. Why
was he unchained?" Soft eyes watched him. Haldir growled and turned
away, staring out at the forest again and not answering his brother.
Orophin studied his own hands that were clasped in front of him.
"I also note, Haldir, that despite the injury the sleeve of your tunic
was not ripped during the attack," he murmured. "Did you have time
to change?"
Haldir remained silent, although his scowl had returned in full force.
Orophin put his hand on Haldir's arm gently.
"It's no crime to have feelings for a mortal, Haldir."
"When a lover attempts to stab you to death, it's probably advisable
to take the hint," Haldir responded immediately, his eyes firmly
fixed on the forest. Orophin paused, his hand still resting on his brother.
"Lover?" the word was light in the forest air. Haldir's muscles
stiffened again. Orophin paused, then continued when it was obvious
Haldir wasn't saying another word. "Haldir, why was he unchained?"
There was a little more force to the query.
Haldir snorted in faint amusement. "I didn't force myself on him if
that's what you're implying, Orophin," he replied dryly. "He had
a bath."
"A bath?" echoed Orophin, astonished. Haldir shrugged.
"He's been in those clothes for so long he was beginning to smell."
There was an almost fond look crossing Haldir's face before he controlled
it and stamped it down. "He had his bath and then.. ," Haldir sighed,
and shook his head. "Much as I hate to say it, I have been extremely
foolish. I believed him."
"I did not expect an attack like this myself, brother," said Orophin,
shaking his head. "That poor boy,"
"Poor boy?" echoed Haldir, finally staring at his brother. "Poor
nothing! He is an opportunistic fighter, going for any weakness he can
see,"
"But what does it take for a soldier of his type to actively try to
seduce someone to find that weakness?" Orophin looked concerned.
"He must seriously want to escape,"
"Seduce? He wouldn't have got very far had I not.," Haldir broke
off and stared back into the forest. Orophin looked interested.
"Had you not already found him attractive?" he supplied when it
was obvious that Haldir was not continuing once again. Haldir made a
grunt in the back of his throat and continued to stare stubbornly into
the forest. A squirrel scampered onto a nearby branch and stared down
at the two elves thoughtfully, before continuing on its journey for
food. Haldir watched it idly.
"Regardless," Haldir shook his head, realising that Orophin was
waiting for an answer he could not give him. "I cannot trust him."
"You took him from his home, tied him up and locked him in a cell.
He has been under your control and your whims for several days. And
he knows that he is being used against his brother," Orophin's
eyes were steady on him. "What makes you think he would be able to trust
you?"
"That's different. That was out of necessity, not choice," Haldir
paused at his brother's expression, and frowned. "I did not go out there
through any personal desire to take Faramir. I took who I was told to
take,"
"And if he too felt his actions were through necessity not choice?
What then?" Orophin's voice was still as soft as silk. Haldir laughed
to himself in genuine amusement.
"You speak as though the mortal has any desires other than his freedom,"
the elf replied. "He cares for his brother, and that is it,"
"So he did not respond to your touch on his body?" asked Orophin
gently. Haldir did not reply. There was a noise of understanding from
Orophin. "I see. So he is a better liar than I had imagined,"
"His reactions do not prove anything," growled Haldir.
"It does not. However, it implies so many things, does it not?"
Orophin looked at the stubborn set of his brother's jaw and sighed.
"He did not strike me as the type of child who would just spread his
legs for anyone, Haldir, regardless of the situation."
"And that is because he is good showing what others want him to feel."
countered Haldir angrily. "The mortal is hardly inexperienced in such
matters."
"So you believe he would do such a thing?" Orophin's eyes were
on him in interest. Haldir opened his mouth to retort, then closed it
again, remembering the fire in the blue-green eyes as Faramir insisted
he did not lie beneath anyone. He shook his head.
"I do not know," he said quietly. Suddenly he rounded on his brother,
slightly startling the squirrel who had returned to the branch and had
been keeping a close eye on the intruders in its forest. "And I note
that you have changed your mind, brother! I thought you did not want
me to start any sort of relations with this human, and yet here you
are .. what? Encouraging me?"
Orophin returned his stare with a steady calm one of his own. "That
was when I believed you only saw a plaything in him. I did not realise
the extent of your feelings, and for that I apologise,"
"I do not feel anything for that mortal," replied Haldir coldly.
"And I did not realise the extent on how badly you lie when you are
like this," Orophin raised an eyebrow. "I won't say go back to
him now, Haldir. You need time to recover your equilibrium. But you
must go back, if nothing more than to look him in the eyes and decide
you feel nothing for him, and he nothing for you."
Haldir watched him, eyes narrowing, as his brother stood. "And where
are you going?"
Orophin gave a half smile. "Someone has to watch over the child. And
knowing you, I doubt whether he got off without a scratch," his
face was serious again. "But I want you back there soon, Haldir. No
arguments."
His brother nodded his understanding of the order and watched as Orophin
made his way quietly and swiftly back towards the house. Haldir sighed
once and settled back to watch the squirrel. Let Orophin deal with the
brat.
See if he cared.
The bone had not broken, Faramir had decided. It had taken him ten
minutes before he could fully bring himself to touch the white hot agony
that was his right arm and had almost passed out at the pain of doing
so, but at least he had confirmed what he expected. He had realised
the elf was not intending to seriously hurt him almost immediately when
Haldir had defended himself rather than retaliated. Faramir had seized
hold of this advantage straight away, although it had not been enough
to allow him the freedom he craved.
Faramir cursed himself. He could have done something more, he knew
it. He could have tried to knock the elf out, although knowing the usual
elven fortitude this would have required more strength than perhaps
was available to him. Now he was worse off than he started, his one
benefactor angry and disappointed at him. Haldir had come back with
some water, salve and bandages for him almost immediately after chaining
him up but had not spoken to him or even bothered to look in his direction
since then, leaving him alone with his misery and his pain.
The ranger had managed to put on the long tunic, which thankfully reached
to mid-thigh. There was no chance to put on the breeches with the chain
still attached, and given the absolute agony it took to get the tunic
on, Faramir was in no hurry to cover himself entirely.
He glanced up hopefully as the door to the cell opened slowly, then
slumped against the wall as he recognised one of the other brothers.
Orophin eyed the young ranger thoughtfully before stepping into the
room, his eyes fixing on the now hastily bandaged arm before his gaze
took in the defeated position of Faramir. The ranger's eyes seemed almost
pitch black as they stared at him, waiting for whatever would happen
next with clear resignation of his fate.
The elf made his way towards the human, crouching gracefully in front
of him and staring thoughtfully at the bloody mess of the ranger's right
temple. In his haste to lessen the pain of his injured arm, Faramir
had completely ignored the minor cut or even bothered to clean it, and
it had continued to bleed badly before finally ceasing. Dried blood
on his face had made Faramir look as though he had survived several
battles.
Faramir seemed disinterested in the wound itself, his eyes fixed on
the elf.
"You know?" he queried finally, his gaze sad but detached from
any fear of retaliation from Orophin. The elf glanced at him briefly
before picking up the cloth that Faramir had discarded, dipping it in
the lukewarm water.
"He has told me, yes," Calmly, the elf moved the damp cloth to
Faramir's head in order to clean the blood away. The ranger moved his
head away, confusion clear on his face about what was happening. Orophin
paused with the cloth, simply looking at the young man who was clearly
struggling with the concept that the elf was there to assist him. Faramir
swallowed lightly, and looked wretched.
"Is he okay?" his voice was quiet, but not quite a whisper. Orophin
smiled to himself and dipped the cloth in the water bowl again, wringing
it out.
"He is unimpressed, but other than that nothing serious," the
elf cupped Faramir's chin, the ranger allowing him to do so without
any protest whatsoever, and started to clean the young man's face. This
action alone managed to double the ranger's confusion. As Orophin released
him to wet the cloth again and to wring out some of the blood, Faramir
spoke again.
"I do not understand. Are you not here to .?" the young ranger
trailed off, watching the elf in bewilderment. Orophin remembered the
standards of Gondor and the consequences that the young man must be
used to from his father, and a smile flickered at the corner of his
mouth.
"Punish you?" the elf raised an eyebrow. "Take revenge on your
actions?" He smiled to himself again, shaking his head, and washing
his cloth. Faramir's brow furrowed.
"Well, yes." There was a surprising amount of steel in one who
was almost demanding to be beaten. "I tried to kill your brother!"
Orophin made an understanding noise in the back of his throat, his
eyes steady on his task.
"Indeed. However, on the basis that he still walks your attempt on
his life appears to require a little more efficiency," The elf's
voice was mildness itself. Faramir stared at him incredulously, and
shook his head angrily.
"You don't understand,"
"Obviously not. Kindly explain," Orophin paused in his work to
give Faramir a kindly look. However, Faramir obviously did not know
or could not find the words to express his beliefs. Finally he snorted.
"So, you're just going to check I'm okay? Is that it?" The accusation
was almost solid. Orophin raised an eyebrow and cupped the young ranger's
chin again, dabbing the blood away from Faramir's cheekbone with the
cloth. Faramir pulled away slightly, annoyance showing in his eyes.
The elf sighed.
"Essentially, although it would be much easier if you would but stay
still."
Faramir shook his head again "If that were my brother, I'd .. ,"
his voice was drifting into a growl, his eyes fixed on the floor. Orophin
waited politely for him to continue.
"You'd?" he queried after it was obvious the steam that powered
his words had fizzled yet again. Faramir looked momentarily flustered.
"Well, do something!" he exploded. "Not nothing! Not tend to your
enemies!"
"Surely to tend to your enemies would be doing something?" mused
Orophin, then relented at the miserable expression of the young man's
face. Ah, the impatience of youth. "And if I did punish you? Would that
make you feel better?" The elf re-wet the cloth to avoid it drying
out. Faramir stared at him.
"It's not about making me feel better!" he retorted. Orophin met
his stare steadily.
"Are you sure?" he asked softly. Faramir stared at him, silent
and sullen. Orophin raised an eyebrow. "Not to relieve your own guilt?"
he added in a murmur. Faramir's stare intensified.
"I did what I had to do," the young man's voice was strong. "
I feel no guilt."
"I see," replied Orophin politely. This only managed to infuriate
the previously placid young man, who sat up a little further, his back
straight, obviously agitated.
"Why should I be the one who's guilty? Is it my fault that you and
your brothers captured me?" he snapped. Orophin nodded thoughtfully.
"A good point." His eyes flickered to Faramir's in consideration.
"And what would your father's opinion be on the matter, I wonder?"
his voice was still soft, still mild, but Faramir reacted as though
the elf had shouted it. The blood drained from his face. The defeated
look returned in his gaze, his very posture. He opened his mouth to
retort, to comment, but could find no words to fill the silence. Orophin
simply looked at him.
"That's not the issue here," Faramir managed in a shaky voice.
The elf nodded in understanding.
"I see. In which case I apologise for distressing you,"
"I'm not distressed." The steel had been reinserted in Faramir's
voice. Orophin studied him carefully. This was obviously an important
issue to the young human, and he felt faintly guilty for bringing the
ranger's father into the conversation. Obviously said father figure
held a lot of the answers to the young man who currently sat before
him now.
Orophin kept his silence and continued to clean the ranger, who was
too shaken to protest against this mild treatment. He made a noise of
consideration as he studied the now cleaned wound.
"It will not need stitches," he decided, tabbing a little of the
healing salve onto the wound to assist. Faramir made no noise at the
stinging sensation that the salve must have produced, his eyes fixed
on the door opposite as though hoping that by simply ignoring the elf
Orophin might just go away. Orophin sat back and put the cloth down,
then looked at the bound arm thoughtfully. Faramir stiffened automatically
at the prospect.
"He does not hate you, you know," the elf said mildly, his eyes
still focused on the arm. Faramir finally looked at him, a glint of
suspicion in his eyes.
"Who?"
"Haldir. He does not hate you." The elf met the human's gaze casually,
then put his hand over the humans wrist carefully. "He hates himself."
"What?" the distress in the young man's voice was obvious. Taking
the advantage, Orophin moved Faramir's arm to a position where he could
easily examine it, although was very cautious not to knock it. There
was the briefest of hisses from Faramir as the limb was manipulated,
but almost the entirety of his concentration was focused on the elf.
Orophin nodded. "He believes that you put on an act for him. That it
was his fault that he did not understand sooner." The elf carefully
began to unravel the bandage which had been hastily applied, Faramir's
agitation obviously ruining whatever healing skill the ranger had possessed.
"That you did not truly care for him." Orophin added softly.
Faramir stared at him hopelessly. Orophin glanced back at him, soft
sympathic eyes meeting the human's briefly before Faramir could not
bear to meet the gaze any further and stared at the floor.
"Was it all an act, little one?" murmured the elf. The ranger
was silent. Orophin continued with his work, carefully removing the
bandages to allow him to fully establish the level of the injury. The
angry purple of the injury took his breath away. Obviously Haldir had
not had an easy recapture.
"It started off that way." Faramir's voice, when it came, was
the smallest of murmurs. Orophin paused in his examination, his eyes
resting on the young ranger.
"But it did not continue as an act?" the elf said quietly when
it was clear that Faramir was not going to speak any further. The ranger
avoided his gaze and stared miserably towards the floor. Orophin looked
at him for some time, then continued with his assessment of the arm.
"I don't see why he should be concerned. It was not as though he cared
for me." Faramir's murmur had become even quieter if that were
possible. Orophin smiled to himself and shook his head.
"You believe my brother would sleep with anyone he found?" the
elf's amusement was evident. Stung by what he believed to be mockery,
Faramir stared at him angrily.
"He would have slept with me," he snapped, as though
this circumstance proved beyond doubt of Haldir's promiscuity. The elf
looked at him, looked past the steel determination and anger, and studied
the insecurity that was suddenly so very clear to him. Orophin frowned.
"Little one, my brother is very particular with whom he sleeps with,"
his voice was gentle. "He does not tend to sleep with humans at all.
It takes a particular man to tempt him"
Faramir stared at him for a moment, disbelief clear on his face, scanning
the elf's eyes for any deception, any exaggeration. When he found none,
he looked bewildered, the child that Orophin always knew humans to be.
He could suddenly see the appeal of the young man to Haldir, the need
to protect the little one.
Any satisfaction or relief that Faramir might have had for this revelation
was suddenly shattered as the ranger realised the depth of his actions.
His eyes widened slightly.
"Then.. then I have hurt him much more than any physical blow,"
Horrified eyes stared at Orophin, who considered how to tackle this
new delicate area. Faramir had whitened considerably, so obviously unhappy
about the possibility that he had destroyed actual affection for him.
"He must hate me."
"I have already said that he does not." The elf soothed him, his
hand on Faramir's arm to ensure that the young man did not damage himself
further in his agitation. As soon as the human had quietened again,
the elf turned back to the arm. The ranger simply allowed the elf to
do as he wished, as though the arm did not concern him in the slightest.
Orophin took in the pallor of the face, the stiff positioning of Faramir's
body and nodded to himself thoughtfully.
The elf continued to work, allowing the human time to think. He had
managed to get the majority of the work done by the time the door sounded
again.
Haldir had returned.
Awaiting Aragorn's return, Boromir had positioned himself by the window
to look dolefully out. The ranger had promised he would be back, had
kept a smile on his face even though the angry fire which burned in
his eyes had been clear to anyone who looked. The Gondorian groaned
to himself as he stared through the window at the haunting beauty of
Rivendell. Something was definitely up.
It had been more than a mere temptation to follow, to leave these chambers
which had been too much like Boromir's own personal cage since Arwen's
first attention on him. However, Aragorn's tone had spoken volumes about
what he was prepared to put up with. If Aragorn was not in a foul temper
against him personally, then he certainly would be should the Gondorian
be foolish enough to move from this set of rooms where he had been instructed
to stay.
Boromir groaned again and placed his hands on the window-sill. At least
his brother would be freed without any fear to Faramir's safety. He
had done what the she-elf had requested, despite the hoops he had had
to jump and the pains he had had to bear. Boromir smiled to himself,
briefly enjoying the feeling of relief that these thoughts brought to
him. The observation that Aragorn had suddenly stopped asking questions
with regards to Faramir's whereabouts and background was pushed to the
back of his mind. He couldn't face any further problems. Not when he
was so close.
The door opened behind him.
"So there you are.," Boromir trailed off as he glanced over his
shoulder. His eyes widened with shock. Arwen looked back at him coolly.
"Boromir," she nodded her acknowledgement of his presence. Boromir's
ability to speak was suddenly gone, his green eyes sliding to Aragorn
who had been watching him with a steady expression. A drop of cold sweat
rolled down Boromir's back.
"Can I get you a drink?" Aragorn asked Arwen idly as he moved
further into the room. The she-elf shook her head.
"I am fine, thank you. Although please do not let me stop you."
She looked back towards Boromir with a flicker of amusement. "Your lover
looks like he could benefit from a small drink as well."
Boromir finally managed to get himself back into action. His eyes scanned
between the pair, both of whom showed ridiculous amounts of calm. "What's
going on?" he demanded.
He tried to calm himself down as he swiftly reflected on the situation.
Aragorn had always maintained that he had wanted to perform some type
of three-way encounter between them all. Perhaps this was simply a result
of that. After all, the ranger did have a nasty habit of enjoying sex
when it would be the last thing on anyone else's mind.
However the look that Aragorn turned on him was decidedly cold.
"I've found out what's been going on, Boromir," Despite the intensity
of his stare the ranger's voice was remarkably light. Boromir felt the
icy hand of fear on himself again. Aragorn was not supposed to know.
How could Aragorn know? He had been as careful as he could!
"What?" Even to his ears his voice sounded scared. Aragorn seemed
not to notice.
"The agreement."
Boromir glanced towards Arwen, who was looking at them impassively,
and then back at his lover. His throat was dry as a desert, although
he finally managed to force himself to speak as naturally as possible.
"What agreement?"
If Aragorn was annoyed by this constant parroting, he did not show
it. "The agreement between yourself and Arwen, to use your ability to
discuss awkward topics with me in exchange for your brother." The
ranger raised an eyebrow, waiting for Boromir to respond.
Boromir had gone white. His eyes begged mutely for appeal from Aragorn.
Arwen still had said nothing, giving no indication to the Gondorian
whether he should be confirming or denying the accusations that Aragorn
threw at him. Better safe than sorry.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he managed.
"No?" Aragorn looked at him sharply. "You were fucking me and
it slipped your mind that you were only doing it for your brother?"
Boromir stared at him, aghast. "That's not true! I-" He cut himself
off, flushing. Arwen sighed delicately behind Aragorn
"By that little acting performance, I'm impressed it lasted this long."
She commented. "Boromir, Aragorn is quite correct. He has obtained certain
information with regards to the circumstances,"
The fear on the Gondorian's face was clear. "So what happens now?"
he asked quietly. Arwen smiled slightly.
"Calm yourself. Your brother will remain unharmed and will be released
as soon as possible," she raised an eyebrow. "I have no use for
him."
Aragorn finished looking at Boromir, glancing back at Arwen. "What
will you tell the others of the council? Your father? Lord Denethor?"
Arwen shrugged as though bored of the whole matter. "A plausible excuse
can be found. No doubt Boromir here can get his brother to play along,
and Faramir's occupation is most obliging in its nature. Rangers always
have that nasty habit of disappearing, don't they darling?"
The ranger ignored this, and simply looked back at her. "You swear
that he is unharmed?" his voice was frosty. Arwen eyed him thoughtfully,
a faint frown appearing on her own face.
"I do not hurt people when they are helpless under my control,"
she said quietly, her eyes fixed on him. "Apparently we do not share
this particular trait." Her eyes flickered towards Boromir, who
reddened again and stared towards the window. Aragorn watched her steadily,
although the guilt shone in his eyes briefly before he managed to get
it under control.
"I am not proud of that-" he began but Arwen stopped him.
"And yet you did it, didn't you my love?" she shook her head.
"Ah well. It does not appear to have made any difference. He is still
with you."
Uncomfortable, Boromir stayed out of this particular conversation.
He was aware of Aragorn's eyes drifting towards him in thought, the
slight pain that was still present in them, and coughed lightly to draw
attention off from him.
"When I can see my brother?" he asked, looking towards Arwen.
The she-elf gave him a casual glance. Aragorn looked away from the Gondorian,
stricken. It was true then. Boromir's motivation through the entire
time they had been together had been for his brother, the Gondorian
having been forced to go through with it for Faramir's safety.
Everything, if not a lie outright, had been extremely exaggerated.
A frown faintly appeared on Arwen's face again as she noticed Aragorn's
distress. She watched him carefully as she spoke to Boromir.
"Whenever you wish, although I was under the impression you had business
to conclude before that?" her voice raised in question. Aragorn
managed to smile towards Boromir.
"Go ahead," he said. Boromir smiled back at him joyfully.
"Thank you," his gratitude was obvious.
Aragorn smiled back at him and looked at Arwen just as Boromir seemed
to pick up on the forced aspects of the ranger's smile. The Gondorian
looked confused, as though someone had changed the rules. However, Aragorn
did not want to dwell on that.
"Shall we go?" he asked.
Haldir watched them a little longer from his position at the door.
Apart from his eyes widening slightly at the start, Faramir's face was
almost entirely impassive. Orophin simply continued to dress the wound
and stood up, glancing over his shoulder at his brother.
"So you have come back," he commented idly. Haldir raised an eyebrow.
"Your observation is remarkable," he replied. Orophin noted the
tone and frowned slightly, moving to be able to look at his brother
without difficulty.
"Haldir-"
"Have you finished helping him?" Haldir cut him off, his eyes
steady on Orophin. "Or did he try to attack you as well?"
His brother frowned harder and shook his head, his eyes fixed on Haldir's,
tying to get his brother to understand the delicateness of the situation.
"Haldir, we need to talk," he said in a slow, steady manner. There
was a snort of amusement from Haldir.
"Talk? Talk? About what, my dear brother?" Haldir gave a careless
glance towards the young ranger who was still sitting on the floor,
looking between them with a cautious expression on his face.
Faramir himself was reminded of the times he attempting to be as invisible
as he could in his father's study so often when he was young, watching
his brother and his father argue over his upbringing. It seemed things
never changed. He watched Haldir assess him, a look of disgust crossing
the elf's face before Haldir glanced back at Orophin.
"With any luck he should be out of our hands soon anyway," Haldir
commented. "I don't care how talented a whore his brother is but-"
The ranger's head snapped up. "What did you say?" his voice when
it came was hard and threatening. Haldir paused, and glanced towards
him again, a cruel glint appearing in his eye. Orophin recognised the
look and immediately tried to step in.
"Haldir, you do not understand,"
Holding his hand up to his brother to quieten him, Haldir's gaze was
fixed on the ranger. His eyes flickered down Faramir's still partly
naked form again, feeling the regret but also feeling the anger form.
A smile was already growing on the elf's face.
"Your sweet heroic brother is nothing but a common whore," repeated
Haldir slowly, deliberately. "It's well known that he will just bend
over and spread his legs for his new master whenever commanded to do
so."
"That's not true." Faramir's voice was through gritted teeth.
Anger flashed in the blue-green eyes. Haldir laughed.
"Face it. Another man fucks your brother because it amuses him."
His voice was clipped.
"Haldir," Orophin's warning was clear. Haldir ignored him and
moved closer to the angry young man, almost urging Faramir to jump up
and attack. The ranger's hands were fists, his glare hard and furious.
"What? You cannot believe that your brother enjoys spreading his legs
for whoever-" Haldir paused as his brother lay a hand not particularly
gently on his arm in further warning. He laughed, amused. "What, Orophin?
If you're worried about him attacking again, don't be. He won't get
away with that again,"
However, Orophin was not looking at Haldir. He was looking at the cold
hard expression on Faramir's face. The emotions he had so recently uncovered
had returned to be buried at the back of the young man's mind. Now all
that remained were the defences that the young man had built up over
the years to shield against his father's constant criticisms and his
own low self esteem. The pain was only just visible in his eyes as Faramir
retreated behind his defences and his anger.
"Oh Haldir," Orophin murmured, hopelessly. Haldir, however, was
not listening, too involved in his own revenge on the young man who
had used the elf's genuine affection for his own needs. His eyes were
just as hard as he stared at the ranger.
"And you want to know why your brother does these things? Why he fucks
around with any man he is told to?" the elf's voice dropped slightly
lower, as though sharing a secret, his eyes fixed on Faramir. "It's
because his little baby brother cannot keep himself out of trouble,"
Faramir stared at him, stilled. Not a muscle flickered. However Orophin
felt his heart sink at the sight of the defeat showing in the man's
eyes, the pain and sorrow that Faramir could no longer hide, no doubt
memories flickering through his mind of the same words spoken by his
father. His fault. All his fault.
The young man's gaze fell to his hands after a moment, studying them
in silence.
Angered, Orophin glared at Haldir. "Well done," he growled. Haldir
looked at him, eyes narrowing at the tone.
"I am hardly being unreasonable, Orophin. You always say that the truth
is important," his voice was cold. His brother glared at him, then
shook his head and made for the door. Haldir's hand caught his wrist.
"You wished to speak to me?"
Orophin glared back at him. "I hardly think it matters now." However,
he chose to lean back to him and murmur in the lightest of whispers.
"He reciprocated your previous feelings."
Pausing only to take in the sudden look of surprise on Haldir's face,
Orophin pulled his arm away from a now weakened grasp. "Good day to
you both," he said firmly and made his exit through the door. Haldir
stared after him for a moment, then glanced back at Faramir who was
still looking at his hands as though transfixed.
There was a long pause.
"Why didn't you kill me?" Faramir's words were so much softer
than he had ever used before, as though the speaker had just awoken
from a pleasant and relaxing dream. Haldir stared at him, his carefully
planned words having completely vanished in the wake of Orophin's statement.
Reciprocates? Impossible!
"What?" Haldir struggled into the conversation.
Faramir finally looked up from his hands, his gaze falling on Haldir.
And this was more disturbing. No fear nor anger showed on the man's
face, nothing to indicate that anything even remotely distressing had
occurred. The ranger cocked his head slightly to one side, his eyes
on the elf.
"When I tried to escape. Why didn't you kill me then?" Still that
freakily light voice.
Haldir managed to get his voice working. "There was no need,"
"And no profit?" Faramir shook his head ruefully. "You were right
when you said the only reason my brother is in this mess is because
of me. It was my idiocy that forced him to sleep with that man,"
"Faramir.," Haldir suddenly felt wretched. Faramir looked at him
in surprise.
"There's no other reason for it, Haldir. I know his tastes. He wouldn't
sleep willingly with another male without protest." The sincerity
on Faramir's face took Haldir's breath away. Dumbfounded, the elf simply
looked at him, the previous anger having melted away like ice on a fire.
"You haven't calculated this situation well. If it wasn't you, it would
have been something else," Haldir's voice held authority. However,
it was not working. Faramir's expression was one of doubtful thoughtfulness.
"Hmmm," he shook his head and glanced back at his hands again.
"I'm sorry about your injury, by the way. I know it's not much but.,"
the ranger shrugged in apology.
"I thought you.," Haldir let himself trail off and started on
a more comfortable topic. However, this was not shared by the other
in the conversation. Faramir rubbed his hand gently.
"Thought I'd?" he echoed.
"It does not matter," Haldir said hastily. Faramir glanced up
at him.
"If you will not speak it, then it matters a great deal," he murmured.
Haldir snorted to himself, trying to regain some of his lost bluster.
"I did not come back here for humans to start giving random advice,"
his voice was deliberately kept amused. Faramir watched him.
"Why did you come back here?" he asked softly. "Your brother would
have ensured that I was fed."
Haldir met his gaze, despite his desire to look away. Revenge had been
the only thing on his mind when he had walked through the door. Now
even attempting to admit this was so very difficult. "I had my reasons,"
he said stiffly.
"I see," Green-blue eyes watched him in interest. Haldir felt
a pressing need to change the subject.
"Orophin cleaned your wounds?" his eyes flickered on the carefully
rebound arm, the neat cut on the eyebrow. Faramir sighed.
"It seems he did not trust me to do it," he replied.
"Had you even tried to start?" the elf looked at him. Faramir
did not flinch or look away from the hard stare, apparently having no
qualms about leaving his own injuries.
"It seemed unimportant," his eyes met Haldir's calmly. Haldir
frowned at him, then pointedly looked around the bare room before coming
back to the ranger.
"What else did you have to do?" he asked. A faint flicker crossed
the previous serenity that had been Faramir's gaze.
"Would it be deemed ungracious of me if I ask you to stop asking me
questions?" there was the faintest hint of either anger or discomfort
in the background. "No, I didn't treat it, and no, I didn't care. Stop
fussing,"
Haldir was slightly taken aback. "Fussing?" he echoed.
"Fussing," Faramir's eyes were steady. "For a hardened prison
warden, you're worrying more than Boromir did when I fell off Bracken
when I was ten and broke my arm,"
"Bracken?" the elf was bewildered.
"My pony," explained the ranger and continued when the elf nodded
his understanding. "So stop it. I'm perfectly fine and perfectly workable."
Haldir was silent for a moment. "What did Orophin say to you?"
he asked finally, and frowned slightly as Faramir carefully avoided
his gaze. The elf finally crouched down to take Faramir's chin in his
hand, turning the young man's head gently but firmly until he was looking
at him. "What did you talk about?"
There was a particular doubtful look in the ranger's eyes. "He said.,"
Faramir trailed off at the concerned look reflected in Haldir's gaze
and shook off the restraining hand to be able to study his own hands
once again which were resting on his legs. The strong wilful man had
disappeared entirely. ".. he believed that you did not hate me."
Haldir waited a few more moments. "And that was it?"
"A few speculations, that was all," Faramir's tone was definitely
wary. Haldir raised an eyebrow.
"On?"
"Blast it all, could you not find out from him?!" the ranger exploded,
angry eyes turned briefly to the elf before returning to his clenched
hands. Haldir waited for the little outburst to conclude.
"I do not want to hear it from him. I want to hear it from you,"
the elf studied him. "What did you speculate on, Faramir?"
The ranger looked mutinous, his expression set in a stubborn line.
Haldir was neither worried nor bothered by this, simply looking at him,
waiting. Faramir sighed finally and reluctantly, his eyes turned away.
"Your brother," he said quietly and grudgingly. "seemed to think
that you did not sleep with humans,"
Haldir shrugged. "I tend not to. They have little to appeal to me,"
he said casually. Blue-green eyes turned to him, first in surprise and
then in faint anger.
"So all of that was for what? Just to torment me?"
Haldir gave a wry smile. "No, for an escape bid. I'm surprised you
didn't notice." Faramir didn't even smile, simply looked at him
with hurt and angry eyes. Haldir shook his head. "No. That was different."
He said softly.
"How?" asked Faramir bitterly. "Because I was a sure thing?"
The elf snorted. "Sure thing?" he echoed. "Had you not just finished
telling me how you would not lie under anyone?" he glanced to his
own wound and raised an eyebrow ruefully. "Evidentially you were not
over exaggerating."
However, the ranger was not to be easily appeased. "Then what?"
he demanded. Haldir frowned.
"You do not have to sound quite so aggressive, child. Your father is
not watching you , little one."
Faramir's expression hardened even further at the mention of his father.
"I do not understand why you accepted my invitation in the first place,"
he replied stubbornly.
Haldir looked briefly surprised. "How amusing! You are fascinating
to me, much as I hate to admit it,"
The ranger looked at him, amusement flickering briefly across his own
expression. "Fascinating?" he echoed, disbelieving, an eyebrow
raised. "Please, spare me your excuses."
"Fascinating," repeated Haldir firmly, his eyes running down Faramir's
chest before returning to his eyes. "You have interesting qualities,"
The reprieve from the dark expression was fleeting indeed. Faramir's
scowl darkened once more. "I do not have qualities according to my father,"
he replied bitterly.
"Do you not? Then you hide it well," Haldir paused to take the
man's chin in his hand again to turn his face towards him. "Faramir,
you are possibly the most-"
The elf paused and glanced over his shoulder as the outside door shut,
straightening just as the chamber door opened. Arwen took in Haldir's
position, the ranger curled on the floor underneath the elf with only
a tunic to keep his modesty. Her eyes observed the bandage that graced
the young man's forearm, the cut above his eye. She turned her cold
stare onto Haldir as Aragorn paused behind her and Boromir stared in
horror at his brother.
"Haldir," she said, and her tone was sweetness itself. "what is
going on?"
Part 8: Wealth
Life always managed to find further complications.
At the entrance of Arwen and the two men, for a moment, just a moment,
the room was completely still as though its occupants had been somehow
frozen where they stood.
However, it only took Boromir only a few seconds to recover. His gaze
turned from horrified to furious in the same period, staring at Haldir
with pure fury in his eyes. Haldir remained unruffled, even when the
Gondorian stalked towards him. Faramir immediately got to his feet,
putting himself between Boromir and Haldir.
His tunic reached to mid-thigh. It was clearly obvious that the ranger
was wearing little else. Boromir's glare intensified as he took on this
little piece of information.
"Boromir, wait," Faramir was more than conscious of the dangerous
glare that his brother was aiming at the elf and remained between the
two, his eyes firmly fixed on his brother. Haldir looked at Boromir
in faint disgust, then turned his attention towards the pair by the
door, raising an eyebrow.
"What is this?" he queried, almost with disinterest. Boromir
spoke first.
"You are to release my brother," he growled. "Immediately."
Haldir raised the other eyebrow and glanced towards Arwen in confirmation
of this order. Arwen gave the faintest of nods. There was a shrug from
the elf, who proceeded to crouch and unlock the chain from Faramir's
ankle. Faramir's eyes flickered towards him then returned to study his
brother whose eyes had taken a moment to properly look at the injuries
on his brother, the cuts, the damaged arm. The fury reached new levels.
Aragorn too had been studying the other ranger silently, then turned
to Arwen. "I believed you said he was unharmed?" he said pointedly.
"He was uninjured last time I saw him," replied the she-elf.
" Boromir can contest to that, can you not Boromir?"
However, Boromir was not listening. His eyes were still locked with
Haldir, as though two dogs fighting over a territory. Faramir tried
to break their eye contact but to no avail. Short of physically moving
his brother or waving a hand in his face, Boromir was not shifting his
attention from his prey. It was as though watching a cat stalking a
mouse.
"It was my fault," the young ranger said hastily, realising
the cause of the additional anger. "Don't worry,"
And this finally broke through the solid fury to get Boromir's attention.
The Gondorian's eyes slowly moved to stare at his baby brother as though
he had declared something impossible.
"Your fault? Don't worry?" he echoed incredulously, then
slower, more patient, as though speaking to one who would find it difficult
to understand. "What *exactly* happened to your arm, Faramir?"
Faramir wasn't entirely able to meet his brother's eyes. He hated it
when Boromir took it upon himself to become the protector, often choosing
the simple route rather than properly understand what was going on around
him. Details were for other people, especially when he was in this sort
of mood.
"Stuff," he said finally.
"Faramir, this is not the time for your bravery!" Boromir
was more than simply frustrated. His fury shone from his eyes, his muscles
tense and simply waiting for the point where he could launch at the
creature who had defiled his brother. He glared at Haldir. "If it was
you who harmed him I swear I will-"
Faramir moved a little more between them, his eyes fixed on his elder
brother worriedly. This was worse than he could have imagined. "Boromir,
calm down. Haldir was only doing his job,"
"So it was!" The confirmation was more than the elder brother
could bear, and certainly more than enough to justify his revenge. Had
not Faramir been between them Boromir would have already attacked, no
doubt aiming to do as much damage as possible, taking out his anger
and his frustrations on the elf in one of the few ways he knew how.
Faramir looked faintly wretched at the thought. It was his fault that
his brother was put in this position, his fault that Boromir worried
and panicked so much about him. His fault entirely.
However, that did not mean he could let Boromir do as he wished. Haldir
did not deserve such treatment, and it was doubtful exactly which of
them would come off best.
"Only incidentally," Faramir was forced to give Boromir a
reluctant but hard shove backwards as the elder Gondorian took a determined
step towards Haldir. Finally Faramir's own irritation began to show.
"Boromir, stop it."
Boromir paused at the grim determination that had suddenly appeared
in his brother's voice, and glanced back at him, confused. Faramir's
jaw was set, his eyes ablaze. Boromir raised an eyebrow.
"And what is this?" he asked almost softly, before shaking
his head, the sharpness and impatience returning to his voice. "Faramir,
they took you and held you against your will. And now you're *protecting*
him?"
"Haldir, what exactly happened to the prisoner?" Arwen decided
to get involved, stepping a little further into the room. Faramir looked
at her nervously, an automatic reaction to her voice. Boromir noticed
the movement, his eyes narrowing and his teeth setting at the realisation
that Faramir knew all about Arwen's little manipulations and politics.
And it was hardly as though Arwen had any reservations of using sexuality
as a weapon, either.
Haldir looked at her calmly, as though they were all friends.
"An escape bid," he answered without a hint of nerves.
"A failed escape bid," added Faramir hastily, not wishing
to get Haldir in more difficulty. Arwen raised an eyebrow and gave a
pointed look towards Faramir's arm.
"And this could not have been solved without damaging him?"
she asked softly.
"I did try and stab him," protested Faramir. This was a sentence
of great interest to the she-elf who raised an eyebrow and looked at
Haldir enquiringly.
"Stab? To stab suggests some type of weapon was used. Now that
*is* interesting, is it not?"
Boromir was still staring at him brother in sullen fury. "You're still
defending him," he accused. Faramir glared back at him, allowing
his full agitation and annoyance to show.
"I'm aware of what I'm doing, brother," he growled back.
The elves ignored the humans' disagreement in their own conversation.
Haldir shrugged idly.
"The situation is over anyway. I do not see how bringing it up
again will assist in the boy's recovery," there was nothing in
his voice that suggested any fear or concern for the situation. In fact,
it almost sounded bored. However Faramir was shaken out of his mostly
silent argument with Boromir to stare round at Haldir at the use of
the phrase.
"Boy?!" he protested. Haldir's eyes flickered on him briefly
before returning to the she elf who was delicately pondering on the
subject.
"Exactly where did this weapon come from?" she pointedly
looked around the almost bare room before staring back at the pair in
interest. Faramir paused, his eyes on Haldir, before turning to face
Arwen.
"I don't think it is particularly relevant," the ranger answered.
"And yet I believe it is." Arwen responded sweetly, before
her voice sharpened. "Where did he get a weapon from, Haldir?"
Boromir had been staring at the elf in growing horror. "By the Valar,
what did you do to him?"
At his brother's movement towards Haldir again, Faramir shoved Boromir
back hard, causing the older man to stumble. "Boromir, stop it. He didn't
do what you're suggesting and it would hardly matter if he had,"
His brother stopped immediately, his eyes returning to Faramir's in
shock. Faramir could see the faint incomprehension in Boromir's eyes
coupled with a growing fear. The ranger felt a sickening thud in his
stomach at his brother's distress, and shook his head to emphasis that
nothing had happened. Boromir laid his hand on Faramir's shoulder, the
ranger receiving a little more strength from his brother's presence.
Faramir smiled weakly at him, feeling happier as Boromir returned the
smile, regardless of how obviously strained it was.
However, this was taking too much time for Arwen.
"This is becoming more perplexing by the minute," she commented
after watching the brothers for a moment. "Haldir, please enlighten
me on what happened for this whole period?" Her voice was dry,
assumptions already made.
Haldir shook his head. "I was seeing to the prisoner's needs,"
he replied shortly. Arwen's eyebrow twitched upwards in faint amusement.
"And how literally were you taking this?" she asked quietly.
Faramir looked up in time to see a thunderous expression cross Boromir's
face. He moved with him to block his path to Haldir, his eyes pleading
with his older brother, his hand already resting on the older man's
shoulder in case more than words would have to be used.
"Boromir…," it was a warning and a plea.
"Faramir, stop protecting him!" snapped Boromir, unable to
keep the level of anger out of his voice any further. There was a flicker
of pain across Faramir's face at his beloved brother's raised tone,
then a set expression settled in, a resolute coldness entering the ranger's
eyes.
"I don't see why and I don't see why you're concerned. After all,
I don't complain about *him* do I?" his eyes flickered
towards Aragorn, who had been watching the events unfold, then back
on his brother. Boromir's anger suddenly failed in the face of the different
topic. Faramir could feel his brother's nervousness increase, could
almost feel him tremble.
"What do you mean by that?" Boromir was obviously cautious
and reluctant. Faramir shook his head, feeling his own anger build against
the man who had clearly affected his brother's mind as well as taking
his body. Boromir, a man who dearly valued his independence, his freedom,
had already been enslaved by this man. Incredible, but true.
"Don't try to explain, Boromir. I know what you and he have been
doing. And you know I am well aware what sort of partners you normally
prefer," Faramir's eyes were the coldest Boromir had ever seen
from his normally patient and kind brother. It was almost his father
staring back at him. Boromir swallowed and shook his head, hoping beyond
hope that Aragorn would not pick up on Faramir's words.
"Faramir, please, this is not the time-" he tried desperately.
Faramir laughed in genuine amusement. Aragorn raised his head slightly,
looking at Boromir.
"What does he mean?" he asked.
Boromir did not dare to look towards his lover, feeling a sensation
in his heart that was almost pain. The tone had already said that Aragorn
was well aware of what Faramir was implying. The elder Gondorian hesitated,
his eyes haunted.
"We'll talk about it later, Aragorn," he said finally. Faramir
turned his attention onto the older man in the corner, the man who had
forced his brother to perform acts that were so unnatural to him. The
man, in fact, who had caused all these problems in the first place.
And who was he anyway? No doubt some obscure political aspect of the
elves, and further more this Aragorn-
Aragorn…
He knew that name…
Faramir's eyes narrowed. No. It could not be. The fabled King of Gondor
was only that. Fabled. His father had been very clear on the matter,
and those matters that Denethor did not know of were not of interest.
Besides which, the man standing in the corner was a ranger, that was
clear to be seen. It was true he had proud bearings, but then he seemed
to be connected to the elven kingdoms.
Aragorn noticed the younger man's curious yet incensed glance towards
him and sighed inwardly, meeting Faramir's gaze almost mildly. Faramir
frowned a little harder before sliding his eyes back to Boromir.
"I know you don't like to sleep with men. Why should he be any
different?" he asked, bluntly. At least Boromir's attention was
suddenly well away from trying to gut Haldir. In fact, he had never
seen his brother look so lost for words, so vulnerable. Faramir felt
the first pricklings of fear. Boromir shook his head and tried to avoid
eye contact, achieving this by aiming such a poisonous look towards
Haldir that a snake would have been proud of the effect. Haldir, as
always, was unruffled.
It was Arwen who spoke first, amusement in her voice. "I would imagine
the difference would be as a result of his lineage. The man in question
is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. And," she added almost helpfully.
"your king,"
"What?" Faramir's eyes fell back on Aragorn again, his voice
only a mere whisper. However, the look that Aragorn received was not
one of respect or dedication. It was sheer horror and a distinct level
of disgust. Faramir snapped out of it and stared back at Boromir. "You
believe this, I take it?"
"I believe him, yes," Boromir's voice was low. Faramir snorted,
his eyes ablaze with barely restrained anger.
"Did he .. order you to do this, brother?" Despite his annoyance,
Faramir's voice was still gentle, his good hand resting on Boromir's
arm. Boromir stared at him in surprise, then shook his head violently.
"No. By the Valar, of course not, Faramir. I did it because I
wanted to,"
Aragorn thought of the drugs, the obvious persuasions of Arwen in his
lover's ear, and smiled grimly to himself. Arwen eyed her betrothed's
anguished expression thoughtfully before turning back to the two brothers.
"Fascinating as this all is, I believed you wished to move from
this room?" she asked. Faramir glared towards her, suddenly reminded
again of her presence. Her very voice managed to spark his desire to
simply grab both Haldir and Boromir and just get them far away from
this place.
"I hope everything worked out for you from this situation,"
he spat. "From your treachery, kidnap and threats,"
"I confess myself satisfied with the results, certainly,"
Arwen raised an eyebrow. "Thank you for your interest," Her voice
was dry and utterly unconcerned over the young human's annoyance and
distress. Faramir growled.
"And what exactly did you achieve? What did you get my brother
to do? What was he supposed to persuade Aragorn of?" Faramir's
voice was bitter.
Arwen pursed her lips. She had forgotten exactly how much the young
man had overheard whilst he was pretending to be ignorant of the elven
language. Much as it grated her to confess, she had also forgotten how
much like his brother Faramir actually was with regards to control over
his mouth. She aimed a look towards Haldir who gave the slightest incline
of his head and rested a hand on Faramir's shoulder.
Faramir immediately glanced back, his hard expression softening. Boromir's
expression returned to that of extreme fury, glaring stonily at the
elf as though wishing nothing more than to seize hold of him and to
shake extremely hard.
"All this can be discussed later, Faramir," Haldir murmured
towards the young man. "We need to get you out of here," Gentle
fingers caressed the soft skin of Faramir's neck. The dangerous growl
that came from Boromir managed to still them, although Haldir refused
to remove his hand entirely from Faramir's shoulders.
However, obviously Boromir wished for more than simply stilling of
the fingers.
"Let my brother go," he growled through gritted teeth. Haldir
met his gaze over Faramir's shoulder, firm, proud and entirely intending
to ignore the order.
"Your brother does not object to my touch,"
"Faramir is tired and mistreated under your control. He does not
know what he wants. Whereas I do. Take your hands off him before I break
your arm," Boromir's fury was clear, his words clipped and dangerous.
"Like you did to his."
"His injuries were unintentional," Haldir still did not move
his hand. Faramir looked from one face to the other, and sighed inwardly.
Obviously he still was not regarded as being sensible enough to know
his own mind.
"Boromir, leave him alone," he said, feeling suddenly tired.
And he was tired, it was true. His sleep, or at least what he was able
to glean, had certainly been poor and interrupted. The fire was still
burning in his arm, the pain a persistent agony in the back of his mind.
His weariness must had been clear on his face as Boromir gave one last
glare towards Haldir and nodded at his brother. The smile that Faramir
gave him made a smile rise reluctantly to his own face.
"We need to get you into bed, little one," Boromir said softly.
His eyes met Haldir's. *Alone*, they added firmly. Arwen took
a step towards the door.
"Come with me. I will find you some quarters that will be more
to your liking. Although you will not be able to walk unaccompanied
through the halls, I might add." She threw towards the young ranger.
"So my prison cell will simply become a more furnished one?"
Faramir glared at her. Arwen laughed.
"You will be surprised how many cages there are which are well
furnished," she replied, almost to herself, then raised her voice.
" It will only be for a day or so, until you are recovered enough
to make the journey to Minas Tirith. You will not be expected to do
anything else. And your brother will be able to stay with you, should
you wish,"
Faramir looked at his brother thoughtfully. The pleasure that having
his beloved brother nearby was currently fighting with the unpleasant
realisation that having Haldir and Boromir in the same room would invite
trouble, if not the spilling of blood. The fact that Aragorn had also
turned away at this suggestion had not escaped his notice.
"Thank you. But I do not wish to interrupt you, brother. You doubtless
have things you need to do," Faramir's eyes flickered towards Aragorn
again. Boromir growled in the back of his throat towards Haldir again,
then managed to give himself in a position where he could look at his
brother without the full force of his anger against the elf being known.
"I'll *find* the time, Faramir," he promised, and
trailed off as Aragorn disappeared from the room without a word. Boromir
paused, staring after him, then managed to shake himself into speech
once again, although it was clear he had momentarily forgotten what
he had been saying. "… you'll need rest anyway,"
Faramir studied his brother in silence. Haldir's fingers had begun
to move once again, sending pleasant ticking sensation down his spine.
There was a pointed cough from the other occupant of the room.
"I thought the pair of you wished for him to leave these chambers,"
came Arwen's dry voice. "if so, can we please move now? Or do you wish
to have even more arguments before you could possibly grasp this concept?"
After a brief glare from the Gondorians, the little procession continued.
Faramir was fast asleep within half an hour, curled up in the large
and comfortable elvish bed, just the top of his golden red curls showing
past the blanket. They had managed to find him some leggings, although
Boromir would have preferred a lot more clothing to cover his brother.
Haldir still concerned him. The elf had disappeared once they had reached
the door with just a quick word to Faramir, but Boromir knew that he
would be back. The look of disappointment on Faramir's face had not
been missed either.
Boromir ground his teeth. If he had his way, Haldir wouldn't be anywhere
near them. For that matter, Haldir certainly wouldn't have the same
pompous air that he always had, the disapproval clear on his face. No,
he would have suffered everything that he had made Faramir suffer.
The Gondorian kissed the top of Faramir's head gently. So very firmly
asleep. Boromir doubted whether he would have woken should the door
be slammed as hard as possible, but he deserved the time to himself.
Boromir had taken the opportunity to check over the rest of Faramir's
body whilst the young man was changing, and this had been allowed with
a resigned air as though his little brother had worked out that there
was no other way to convince his brother that nothing else had occurred.
Of course, Boromir had to take Faramir's word that nothing sexual had
happened. If Haldir had even touched his brother in that manner, the
elf would be looking at two broken arms, politics or no politics.
Giving a light sigh, Boromir looked at him a little longer, feeling
some of the fears melt away. Not that he could properly relax until
they had been properly released, that Faramir was back in Minas Tirith
where he belonged, and with a stern letter to their father about keeping
him safe. Boromir paused. Possibly not a stern letter. No, in fact,
any thing at all. It would only serve to increase Denethor's assumption
that Faramir was unable to deal with anything.
Boromir glanced towards the door of the room as it started to open,
his eyes already narrowed in annoyance. However, it was no elf that
entered.
"Aragorn," there was obvious relief and pleasure in Boromir's
voice as he stepped forward to receive his lover. "There you are. I
was about to come and search for you,"
"Were you?" the ranger commented idly, crossing the floor
to look down at Faramir's sleeping form. "I see,"
Boromir recognised the tones of rejection, and frowned.
"Are you okay?"
The ranger didn't answer, simply staring down at what little he could
see of Faramir with a look of deep concentration. Boromir began to get
more than a little worried. Stepping forward, he put his hand on Aragorn's
shoulder which seemed to immediately take on the consistency of stone.
Boromir frowned harder.
"What's the matter?" he asked softly. There was a soft laugh.
"Matter? Nothing's the matter. Everything's worked out fine, hasn't
it? You have your brother back, Arwen has her succession confirmed,
your brother finds a new lover and everything's fine." Aragorn
replied coolly, without bothering to look at the man he was speaking
with. "Why should anything be that matter?"
The Gondorian paused, just watching him warily. He had never been good
at the discussion part of any relationship, and he could almost sense
that whatever he said was likely to cause more hurt than Aragorn already
had. Boromir tried to squeeze his hand in support but Aragorn resisted.
Boromir could almost see the frown already appearing on the ranger's
face.
"What will you do with Haldir?" asked Aragorn finally, completely
ignoring his lover's action. However, Boromir managed to resist this
particular change of conversation.
"Aragorn, you know I enjoy our time together, don't you?"
Silence. The ranger simply stared at Faramir a little longer, and gently
rested his hand on the sleeping mound's shoulder. There was a faint
little moan, like a kitten being gently washed by its mother, before
Faramir settled back to sleep again. Boromir tried again.
"Aragorn, please. Speak to me,"
"And say what, exactly?" Aragorn's voice was low, hard, but
there was a level of detachment that suggested that the ranger was attempting
to shove the emotional difficulties to the back of his mind. "Boromir,
you were forced into sleeping with me. I know that. You know that. Arwen
certainly knows that through all the effort she put in. And from that
point on it's been some form of persuasion keeping you going. Once your
brother has gone back to Minas Tirith, there would be no need for you
to continue. Unless, of course," here Aragorn's voice dropped a
little lower. "you wished to ensure that you still obtained a good political
position with the King of Gondor."
Boromir stared at him, a dull anger beginning to build. "For the Valar's
sake, Aragorn, I would still be sleeping with you because I believed
we were lovers, not some sort of political game." He managed to
keep his voice low due to his brother, but it was still loud enough
in the room.
"You honestly believed that? You were told what to think and what
to do and you still believe we were lovers?" there was no mistaking
the bitterness in Aragorn's voice. "No. You did what you had to do,
and that was it."
"For pity's sake!" Boromir growled, grabbing onto Aragorn's
arm and forcing him to face him. "I might be dedicated to my country,
but that's too far even for me! Aragorn, I did the majority of it because
I wanted to. You know I could have easily escaped a lot of your attentions
in these past days, but I didn't. I wanted to be with you. If you're
too bloody pig-headed to see it that's your own problem!"
"Have you been with any other men other than myself?" asked
Aragorn calmly. There was a noticeable hesitation from Boromir. "I see."
"That doesn't prove anything," snapped Boromir hotly. "Just
because I don't roll around in the hay with every man I meet doesn't
mean that it's not possible that I could be attracted to one."
"You sleep with women?" still the steady voice.
"I'm no saint. I have to sleep with someone, and the horses really
don't appeal." Boromir folded his arms. "Besides which, it's expected.
Father has already complained that no heir has been produced yet,"
"I see."
"And stop saying I see!" Boromir exploded. "It's hardly as
if you're betrothed to be married or anything, is it?"
"That's entirely different." At least the calmness was beginning
to falter. Annoyance was beginning to make an appearance in Aragorn's
voice.
"How, exactly?!" Boromir was about to add a little bit more
to this when the movement on the bed caused him to pause mid-snap. Surprised
blue eyes were looking back at them over the blanket. Boromir cursed
himself for making too much noise and made a soothing noise which obviously
baffled Aragorn. The ranger glanced over his shoulder and met the wary
eyes of Faramir watching him.
"Oh," Aragorn moved to be able to see him properly. "My apologises.
We did not mean to be so loud,"
"How are you feeling, little brother?" Boromir's voice sounded
as though he had never had a bad thought in his life. He moved to crouch
by his brother's bedside, putting his hand on Faramir's forehead as
though testing for fever. However, Faramir was obviously not focusing
on any injury he might have.
"Don't worry about me. Go on with your argument," there was
a sleepy quality to Faramir's voice, but the clearness was still firmly
present. Boromir hesitated and resisted looking in Aragorn's direction.
"It wasn't an argument. It was more a .. disagreement,"
Faramir simply looked at him patiently. Boromir sighed, his hand dropping
away from Faramir's forehead.
"Okay, so there might have been argument qualities to the said
disagreement, but-"
"You were arguing about your relationship, weren't you."
There was a sorrowful expression in Faramir's eyes. "I'm sorry. I didn't
mean to cause it. I was just a little tired, and when you didn't leave
Haldir alone I just had to focus on something else."
It was a lie, Faramir knew it was a lie, but in the face of Boromir's
obvious dedication to Aragorn the younger ranger couldn't bring himself
to admit anything else. He had caused this damage, and he would be damned
if he was going to add to it. Faramir still could not understand how
his beloved brother had managed to swop his desires so easily and quickly,
but what he couldn't understand didn't mean it couldn't happen.
"You didn't cause it," said Aragorn quietly, cutting through
the younger man's thoughts. "It was an argument that would have happened
regardless of your words. Might I see your arm, please?"
Faramir looked at him distrustfully. His arm had only just gone into
the quiet throbs of mere pain, and another healer poking him was not
the most appealing, King of Gondor or no. However, he simply moved the
blanket away and lay back, allowing Aragorn access. The ranger began
to check the bandage, ensuring it had not slipped through Faramir's
sleep.
"How does it feel?" Aragorn was suddenly all business.
"Painful, but bearable," Realising Aragorn was only really
assessing it, Faramir relaxed a little more. His eyes flickered towards
his brother again. Aragorn chose to ignore this factor and simply continued
to ensure that Faramir was healing reasonably. Faramir yawned widely,
like a lion after a good meal, and blinked sleepily towards Aragorn.
"Rest, young one," the king smiled at him, and resisted the
urge to ruffle the young man's hair.
"Will you two be fighting if I do?" wary caution had re-entered
Faramir's voice. Aragorn shook his head.
"Of course not,"
The ranger could feel the dubious gaze of both Gondorians on him at
that little statement. Boromir gave a half laugh and walked towards
the window, gazing out of it. Aragorn resisted the urge to glance at
him, and simply smiled again at Faramir. Obviously working out that
he was unlikely to get any further assurances, Faramir settled back
against his pillows and fought against his eyes closing.
Aragorn relaxed a little more as Faramir's breathing slowed, showing
that the younger ranger must indeed have been exhausted. He adjusted
the blankets and stepped back, before turning. Boromir's glare hit him
immediately.
"So,"
"Not here, Boromir," sighed Aragorn. "We've already woken
him up once."
"I'm not letting that elf anywhere near him," Boromir's voice
was determined. "If we go somewhere, he's bound to turn up. He touches
my brother again and he's going to live throughout his years with missing
teeth."
"You always did have a way with words," the ranger began
to walk towards the door. He could see Boromir watching him, torn between
following his lover and staying to protect his brother. Aragorn paused.
"We can wait outside the door. Haldir might be enterprising, but
I doubt even he would bother to climb through the window." Aragorn
waited until a grudging acceptance had appeared on Boromir's face and
nodded, walking again.
"So it's done," Haldir folded his arms and watched the elf
princess as she carefully poured a glass of wine. Arwen turned her head
to give him a cool look, then continued with her task.
"I would not say done as such. He still needs to get to Gondor.
Indeed, he still needs to be crowned. I understand that the Steward
might be a little less forgiving of the king than his sons seem to be,"
Arwen took a mouthful of wine and nodded in satisfaction. " However,
I confess myself pleased with the outcome. If Aragorn is not crowned
king, it will not be as a result of him. When Aragorn says he will do
something, he will do it."
"If he survives,"
"Granted, if he survives," Arwen shrugged her shoulders.
" However, I have faith in him. Humans are very difficult to kill off,
it seems, and I have to admit that I would be most upset should he fall."
"Come now," snorted Haldir. "It's hardly as if you love him.
We both know that he serves a purpose, nothing more."
Arwen was silent, staring down at her glass of wine thoughtfully. "
You make it sound as though I would not care whether he should live
or die," she said softly. Haldir frowned, unable to read the neutral
expression that was fixed upon the she-elf's face.
"Well, obviously it would be inconvenient after all this time,"
"Inconvenient. I see." Arwen smiled to herself, twirling
the glass stem in her fingers. "I am betrothed to him. Should this not
be enough, he is also my little foster brother. Do you really think
me that hard?"
"Yes," Haldir raised an eyebrow. "So you have grown fond
of him. That is only natural. But do not suggest to me that you would
not sacrifice him in an instant if it would be of benefit."
"I would imagine he is to me as your little ranger is to you.
How is Faramir, incidentally?" Clear blue eyes rested on Haldir
thoughtfully. The elf paused, his eyes narrowing.
"He is fine," he said shortly. "Not that his barbarian of
a brother won't try to ruin this. Obviously Faramir obtained all the
brains in that family. And he is entirely different."
"Oh, good. How?"
"I understand that you will not even sleep with Aragorn,"
Haldir's eyes were hard. "We both know that the excuse of marriage is
a poor one, Arwen. You are not exactly innocent in the ways of seduction."
"And by that I assume that you have slept with your little ranger?"
"Please stop calling him my little ranger. He is not my toy. And,
strictly speaking, I have not slept with him. However, that is not through
lack of interest on either side, I might add. I do not do it out of
duty." Haldir folded his arms stubbornly.
"Duty?" echoed Arwen softly.
"Duty," repeated Haldir stubbornly. The she elf looked at
him thoughtfully.
"And when he returns to Minas Tirith? You will simply let him
leave without .. realising his potential?" she asked even softer.
"It seems a waste to me. You know that his father will never let him
mix company with an elf such as yourself."
"Just as you know his father will never let your betrothed simply
take the crown of Gondor. The king has been absent for too long, Arwen.
Most other kingdoms would have already crowned the steward as the rightful
leader," Haldir shook his head slightly. "You do not face an easy
task, even with Aragorn's assistance."
"And the elder son already loyal to Aragorn's rule? It might be
difficult, but I do not believe Denethor would be able to resist for
long. Not if he is handled effectively,"
Haldir watched her cautiously. There were many different levels of
politics and efficient service. Certainly several of them were more
than a little lethal. Arwen took in the expression being aimed at her
and sighed.
"Boromir might be under Aragorn's thumb, but I doubt whether this
hold would be enough to allow us to murder his father. I intend to persuade
Denethor through less harsh methods, mostly likely an offer of one of
the smaller provinces nearby. Ithilien, for example. He will obtain
his own independence whilst also finally being recognised as royalty."
Arwen shrugged. "He might be a stubborn, explosive man, but at least
he does have the ability to see the most profitable route."
Haldir relaxed a little more. However, Arwen had not finished.
"And there we have the problem. Aragorn's relationship with Boromir
could be easily seen as a suitable political match. Your relationship
– or whatever you wish to describe it as – with the younger
son might cause unnecessary friction. Perhaps it might be best-"
"No." Haldir straightened his back. Arwen raised an eyebrow.
"No?" she echoed. "You have not even heard my proposals and
you say no so firmly now?"
Haldir shook his head. "If I wish to continue with seeing the younger
son I will do so, without political interference or plotting."
Arwen sighed patiently, although holding onto her anger. "The father
will banish him. The elder brother wishes to disembowel you. You will
have political interference whether you wish for it or no. Use it instead.
*Control* it, and you will succeed. Ignore it at your own peril,"
"I owe it to him,"
"You do not owe it to him. I assume little Faramir used every
trick available to him to get out of his imprisonment, did he not?"
Dark eyes rested on him carefully. "Just as I assume that the initial
contact between you was planned and executed by your innocent little
ranger. You never did explain fully how he managed to get to the point
where a broken arm would have been necessary to stop him escaping."
"Didn't I?" Haldir looked back at her steadily. "My apologises."
Explanations were still not forthcoming, as Arwen knew they would not
be. She sighed again and turned to the window, staring out.
"When will you go?" she asked idly.
"When the boy is well enough to travel. We will take him back.
The route from Rivendell to Gondor becomes ever more dangerous each
day that passes," Haldir felt a little more comfortable off the
subject of Faramir. Arwen nodded, almost to herself.
"I would imagine this is not assisted by the fact we have both
the Captains of Gondor here at Rivendell," she said, almost amused.
" The sooner we get Faramir back to a position that he can actually
assist Gondor the better. These will soon be my lands, as well as his
own. I do not like the idea of marauding bands attacking it without
fear of defences,"
"Your concern is heart-warming," Haldir replied dryly. Arwen
turned her head to give him a hard look.
"Did you not have other places to be, Haldir?"
The elf smiled to himself, and disappeared through the door.
The argument had not started immediately at the door shutting once
again. However, there was a cold silence between them. Boromir had already
worked himself up into a mental state of agitation, distress and fear
fighting strongly against the anger. He paced down the corridor and
turned back again, like a tiger in a too small cage. Aragorn watched
him stonily, arms folded.
Boromir glanced at him finally, having avoided eye contact for a few
minutes.
"So you believe I'm whoring myself out? Is that it?" he almost
snarled it, although some control still lingered in the background.
Aragorn's expression didn't change.
"You mean you're not?" he said softly. "Face facts, Boromir.
You did this out of concern for your brother and your love for your
country. I am not saying that these are not noble reasons for sacrificing
yourself. I am, however, saying such motivations do not make a relationship.
Many people enjoy their work."
Boromir whirred round on his heel and glared at him.
"Aragorn," he said, and despite his voice being controlled
Aragorn could still hear the shake in it. "Please believe me when I
say that even if Faramir had not been involved and Gondor remained untouched
by anything we did, I would still be here. For pity's sake, Aragorn,
I –"
He broke off again and started to pace again, a slight shake of the
head. Aragorn continued to watch him without a flicker of emotion, a
turn of the head, a move of a muscle. Boromir lifted his head slightly
when Aragorn finally spoke again, his soft voice slightly echoing in
the corridor.
"So you wish to continue?"
Their eyes met as though two animals vying over dominance. There was
a long silence. Boromir's gaze didn't falter in the slightest as he
straightened his back and squared his shoulders.
"I do. But not if you believe that I would be there for ulterior
motives. Politics can be kept aside,"
Aragorn laughed softly and sadly. "But I would be your king, Boromir.
If Arwen has her way, of course. Your influence over me would be seen
to be one of the most political in the kingdom. You cannot keep the
politics aside, for they will not go,"
"In that case I will ignore the politics then. Sure, they may
not ignore me. In fact, politics seem to go out of their way to gang
up on myself and my brother, which is simply a fact of my position.
A position directly underneath you will not make a huge amount of difference."
Boromir stared back at him defiantly.
There was another silence as both men simply looked at each other.
"And what of Arwen?" Aragorn spoke first. Boromir frowned
as though the name was unfamiliar to him, although Aragorn could see
the slight shiver in Boromir's shoulders.
"What of her?" Boromir's voice was rough and blunt. Aragorn
shrugged lightly.
"She would forever be with us. She will be my wife," he watched
the torn look cross openly on Boromir's face. The younger man struggled
to say something.
"You will still marry her?" It was supposed to come out harsh.
It came out questioning and cautious, an animal who had been tormented
over time. Aragorn nodded his head slowly, upset by the look of fear
that crossed so quickly over Boromir's face that it was as though he
had imagined it. But it had been there, no question about that.
"We are all but destined to be joined. I cannot leave her now,"
Aragorn said quietly. "And, for all that she has done, I cannot bring
myself to simply condemn her. Could I say, if I were in her position,
that I would have not done the same?"
Boromir moved slowly towards him, his green eyes fixed on his king.
"You would threaten someone to do your bidding? You would kidnap a boy
and keep him locked away until your political aims have been met, causing
him obvious pain and distress during this?" he asked slowly. "I
would hope you wouldn't,"
"I know how badly she wants to get out of this place," Aragorn
shook his head, then glanced back. "And I'm not sure how happy Faramir
would be to hear you call him a boy, either,"
"And what happens when she badly wants something else? What next
will she do?" Boromir was incredulous. Aragorn was silent, simply
looking back at him. With a hiss of annoyance, Boromir turned to pace
up and down the corridor again, this time in thought. The idea of having
Arwen as his queen was not appealing. She could legally kill Faramir
whenever she felt like, send him off on a mission that would have been
foolhardy at best. And Faramir, loyal Faramir, would try his hardest,
regardless of whether that would put his life at risk.
Boromir's eyes flickered to Aragorn again. He knew that Aragorn wouldn't
blame Faramir, would think long and hard about sending any of the teams
on a purposeful mission. However, Aragorn was one man. One person to
control her. Unless…
Aragorn frowned as a particularly unfocused but hard look crossed Boromir's
face.
"Boromir?"
But Boromir wasn't listening. He was still focusing on the other person
who could possibly influence Arwen, to possibly protect his brother
from any attack that might come. But to accept this would be to accept
the fact that the elf's hands would be all over his brother, to accept
this 'relationship' that had obviously simply resulted from a captor-prisoner
situation.
However, when it came to it, what other options did he have?
This would not be easy.
TBC
