Title & Chapter Number: The Hand of the King 29-35/46
Author(s): - Author's Index
Website: Dalo's Archive
Fandom: Middle Earth
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Characters not mine. I'm just a guy who loves guys loving guys, filling in some gaps, with all due respect to Tolkien.
Warnings: Slash (duh), Angst. Homosexual relationships and acts. Nothing kinky, but definitely down and dirty at times (we're talkin' NC-17, folks). You gotta problem wit dat? Here's a tip: DON'T READ IT!!!
Betas: Elfscribe (Luv ya!)
Cast: Legolas/Aragorn/Boromir/A surprise
Timeline: January 17-20, 3019 Third Age
Spoilers: None
Summary: While recovering from Moria in Lothlórien, the Fellowship discovers a mysterious phenomenon that could threaten the future of all.
Notes: Dedication: "The Hand of the King" was written as an expression of love for my partner, Jon, who at times is my Legolas, and other times my Aragorn. Gerich veleth nín, Jonathan. Thank you for loving me so completely. "My heart will be yours until the end of time."
Chapter 29
Orophin was waiting for them as Legolas and Rúmil emerged from the forest at the confluence of the Nimrodel and the Celebrant. The sun was setting ahead of them behind the Misty Mountains to the west.
"Greetings, brother and Prince Legolas," he saluted as they approached.
"The prince wishes to be addressed simply as Legolas, good brother," admonished Rúmil.
"My apologies, Legolas. Your participation in our mission honors the Galadhrim."
Legolas bowed his head.
"Tell me, Orophin," asked Legolas, "where is Haldir and Boromir?"
"Haldir moved into Dimrill Dale earlier this afternoon. Of Boromir I can not say. Did he not accompany you to Caras Galadhon?"
Legolas felt his heart stop in his chest. His eyes closed and just like the first night in the clearing, once more the image of Aragorn placing a reassuring hand on Boromir's shoulder flashed across his mind.
"Legolas?" Rúmil asked in alarm.
"I am fine," he replied. He opened his eyes and looked at Orophin. "Are you telling me that Boromir is not with Haldir?"
"No, Legolas, he is not," Orophin replied.
"He did not come with Haldir and is now somewhere else on patrol?" Legolas knew the answer, but was desperately seeking some explanation that did not include his leaving Aragorn at the mercy of the Gondorian.
"No, Legolas."
"I must return to Caras Galadhon at once," declared Legolas.
"But Legolas," protested Rúmil, "you are needed here."
"I apologize and will return as soon as I may. But Boromir's presence in Caras Galadhon at this time threatens the Fellowship's quest and I must return there to guard against that possibility."
With no further explanation, he turned and began his return journey to Aragorn. He only hoped that he would not arrive too late.
~*~*~*~
Chapter 30
"I have a confession to make," said Boromir, finishing the first bottle of wine. He was glad he had brought plenty. The elf who served them breakfast had been very generous and had brought him three bottles. It wasn't Meril's Mysteries of Mirkwood, but it was a good wine nonetheless.
"If it involves your cooking skills, I fear I must warn you that your secret is out," said Aragorn.
"What?" asked Boromir with apprehension.
"I am impressed and somewhat surprised. I never would have suspected that you would have taken such an interest in cooking. Where did you learn such skills? I have lived a lifetime in the wild and have not the talent to prepare such a delicious repast."
"I had a very good teacher," replied Boromir. The memory of Théodred still sent a searing arrow of pain through his heart, even after all these years. "But that is not my confession."
"Why have you not shared this gift with the rest of the Fellowship?" asked Aragorn. "I am certain Sam would appreciate the help."
"I do not think that Sam would appreciate anything that came from me. And Frodo would most likely suspect I was trying to poison him. I do not think he trusts me. Besides, need I remind you, of all people, that sometimes a man does not wish to reveal all about himself without good reason?"
"But would not the gratitude of Merry and Pippin be reason enough?"
"We both have vulnerable cracks in our emotional armor. I choose to conceal mine by keeping certain histories hidden just as you have concealed your own heritage."
The ranger's expression softened and Boromir's attraction to him increased. The compassion evident in Aragorn's face fanned Boromir's desire to kiss the man. The only other man who had ever shown him such kindness was Théodred, and years had passed since he had seen or spoken to the Rohir.
"I suppose we all have our secrets to keep," agreed Aragorn as Boromir handed him a newly opened bottle. The ranger took a long drink and then passed it back. "So what of this 'confession' of yours?" he asked.
Boromir took the bottle and drank deeply. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Yesterday morning, I was concerned for your well-being when you left the pavilion," he began. "I followed you into the forest and overheard the end of your conversation with Sam."
Aragorn's face fell. "What did you hear?" he demanded.
"Not much at all," replied Boromir, attempting to sound conciliatory. "Just a bit about your attraction to Legolas and how it comes into conflict with your love for Arwen."
Aragorn was instantly on his feet and walking away from him. "I cannot believe you would do such a thing," he fumed. "But then again, in truth, I can. Sam tried to warn me, but I refused to listen."
"Aragorn, come back," called Boromir, rising to his feet and following him.
Aragorn suddenly stopped and turned to confront Boromir. "What do you plan to do now?" he demanded.
Boromir stopped a few paces away, not wishing to spook the angry ranger. "What do you mean?" he asked.
"What do you intend to do with this information? Will you attempt to disgrace me or destroy my relationship with Arwen?"
Boromir raised a hand to reassure his friend. "Aragorn, you misunderstand. I have no intentions of telling anyone. I will keep your secret to my grave."
Aragorn visibly relaxed a bit. "Very well. If your intention is not extortion, then why have you confessed this to me?"
"My eavesdropping is only part of my confession, Aragorn."
"Then what else have you done?" asked Aragorn, a confused expression on his face.
"Nothing that involves you nor anyone else in the Fellowship," answered Boromir. "Please, sit back down and I'll explain."
Aragorn glared at Boromir, apparently considering the situation. He finally broke his gaze, returned to their 'table' and sat down. He grabbed the open wine bottle as he did so and took a long drink. Boromir slowly rejoined Aragorn and braced himself for the final plunge.
"When I was younger, I was in a relationship with another man. A sexual relationship."
There, he had said it.
Aragorn's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. The revelation had obviously taken him completely by surprise.
"I tell you now so you will know that you are not alone," submitted Boromir.
"I . . . ," Aragorn began, "am speechless."
"Do not judge me too harshly, Aragorn."
"Sam says I judge you too lightly."
"Sam's opinion of me matters very little. Your opinion, on the other hand, matters a great deal."
"I do not judge you, Boromir. For should I denounce your past, I must condemn my own. I did not tell Sam, but Legolas made love to me two nights ago."
It was now Boromir's turn to be surprised. "Your passion has been consummated?"
"Well, . . . yes and no," was the ranger's enigmatic reply.
"You speak in riddles, my friend."
"You must understand that I have never been attracted to another man before. I encountered Legolas in a clearing. He gave me succor in my grief. Before I knew what was happening, he was making love to me. And now I cannot stop thinking about him. So, in this case, the consummation has ignited the passion instead of the other way around."
"If I live to be one hundred years old, I will never understand the ways of the elves," admitted Boromir. "I do not know how you lived with them for so long."
Aragorn appeared to take umbrage at this statement. "The elves have treated me with more kindness and respect than any man ever has," he declared emphatically.
Boromir felt everything he was saying was wrong. "My apologies. I meant no disrespect."
"Why do I find that difficult to believe?" asked Aragorn rhetorically.
"Because, regrettably, I have given you cause to doubt me," replied Boromir, feeling the need to confirm Aragorn's mistrust. If he wished to earn the ranger's trust now, he had to acknowledge his mistakes in the past. "And for that I am truly sorry. I only hope that this transgression is one you can bring yourself to someday forgive."
Aragorn eyed him suspiciously for a moment, took another drink from the bottle, and then asked, "So who was this man with whom you had a relationship?"
"His identity is irrelevant," dodged Boromir. "Suffice it to say that I learned a great deal about . . . cooking from this man."
"Ah, so this was the mysterious culinary teacher?"
"Yes," replied Boromir. His heart was in his throat and his eyes were beginning to swim.
"What? No details? Don't you trust me, Boromir?" Aragorn paused and when Boromir did not respond, he continued. "So where is he now? What happened to the relationship?"
Boromir was unable to speak for fear of breaking into tears like a little girl, which was not the image he wished to present to the ranger. "I do not know," was all he uttered, unwilling to risk more. He felt Aragorn's eyes on him, and was angry at himself for appearing so weak. He pushed his pain down and regained his composure. "I have not spoken to him in a long time," he added quietly.
Aragorn was now silent. Boromir sensed Aragorn's hostility diminishing as the ranger witnessed Boromir's emotional struggle. He held the bottle out to Boromir who accepted it and took a long drink.
"He obviously meant a great deal to you," Aragorn observed. "And it is obvious the memory of him has brought you great pain." Boromir returned the bottle to the ranger. "I am truly sorry that your heart has been so deeply wounded." Aragorn lifted the bottle and, with several large gulps, finished the second bottle. "I only wish there was something I could do to help you find some peace."
"Your compassion is gift enough, Aragorn," said Boromir.
"Still, I would like to do something," insisted Aragorn, placing a reassuring hand on Boromir's shoulder.
~*~*~*~
Chapter 31
Legolas was running through the forest when the vision flashed once more into his mind, stronger than ever, causing him to stumble and fall to the forest floor.
The faint sound of large flapping wings overhead caused Legolas to look up, searching the sky through the trees for the creature making the sound. A shadow flew overhead, blocking the stars as it passed, but Legolas was unable to discern what nature of creature prowled the night skies over Lothlórien.
Feeling time slip away like a rudderless boat down a swift-moving river, he leapt to his feet and continued on his way.
~*~*~*~
Chapter 32
"Well," said Boromir, "there is something . . . but no, I could not ask it of you." The extent of his need confounded him, forcing him to greater and greater depths of vulnerability.
"Speak, my friend. I wish to know," compelled Aragorn.
"It . . . he . . . ." Boromir stumbled with the words. He stopped, closed his eyes, took a deep breath and started once more. "What I miss most is the simple act of lying in his arms. To feel him wrapped around me gave me such a sense of calm and peace." He spoke softly, almost to himself. "Home." He had not realized until that moment just how true the statement was.
"I believe I understand," said Aragorn. "I, too, long to lie in the arms of my love."
"And which love would that be, Aragorn?"
The question threw the ranger's expression into confusion once more.
Boromir was unable to quell his curiosity and he asked, "Do not the elves bind for life, forsaking all others?"
Aragorn answered forlornly, "That is true." He sighed deeply. "However, I am not an elf. I do not understand how it is possible for me to love two souls at once, but I do. Should I be forced to choose between the two, I fear I would lack the strength to do so."
"You may very well face such a choice, my friend," counseled Boromir. "You had best prepare yourself for that eventuality."
"Thankfully, the choice is not before me now. However, I am witness to a friend in pain and wish to help." Aragorn stood and extended his hand to Boromir who took it. The ranger pulled Boromir onto his feet and into a powerful embrace. Boromir raised his arms and wrapped them around Aragorn in disbelief. He inhaled deeply, drinking in the scent of the man in his arms.
Aragorn pulled away and then sat down with his back against a nearby tree. He looked up and held his arms open wide. "I realize my arms cannot replace the love that you have lost, but perhaps it can ease your burden for a bit."
Boromir felt tears burning his eyes as he dropped to his knees at Aragorn's side. He fell into the man's arms and loosed the tears of heartbreak he had held at bay these many years.
~*~*~*~
Chapter 33
Legolas had almost completely crossed a small clearing when he heard movement behind him and turned to see a giant eagle land not ten paces away. The magnificent beast folded its wings as a figure clothed in a hooded brown robe leapt sprightly from the eagle's back to the ground.
"Radagast!" cried Legolas, his spirit soaring with hope. He jumped to his feet and moved to embrace his old friend.
As he approached, however, the figure drew back the hood to reveal the face of a man he had never met, with dark tanned skin and long blonde hair. "Hello, Legolas," he said.
"Radagast?" inquired Legolas, recognizing the spirit but not the form.
"That's right."
"Why do you appear in this guise?" asked Legolas.
"We have much to discuss and little time to do so. Come," the Istar instructed, turning to his avian companion. "Gwaihir has already graciously agreed to carry us." The Windlord lowered his mighty body to the ground while first Radagast and then Legolas pulled themselves up onto his broad back.
As soon as they were settled, Radagast made a slight clicking sound and Gwaihir took flight.
~*~*~*~
Chapter 34
Aragorn held the weeping Boromir for a good while. The man's sobs wracked his large frame, his body shaking in the ranger's arms. Aragorn's heart broke for the piteous man and he wished to do more. But he could think of nothing within his power beyond what he was already doing. He drew his arms tighter around Boromir and focused all his goodwill and compassion, attempting to channel it into his friend.
Opening himself to the moment, he felt the connection between them grow, giving him a deeper understanding of his friend's profound grief. He had been in a similar state two nights ago when Legolas had eased the ranger's grief. He instinctively focused on Boromir's pain and sought to draw it out of the man, as one would suck on a snake bite to remove the venom.
After a few more moments of tears, Boromir's sobs began to subside, fading away to whimpers and sniffles. Aragorn felt Boromir's body tense as the whimpers were stilled and the man drew the back of his forearm across his lower face and then rubbed each eye with the heel of his hand.
"I'm sorry," said Boromir with one last sniffle.
"Why do you apologize?" asked Aragorn. "You've done no wrong."
"I have lost my restraint."
Aragorn gazed down at the light brown hair flowing down the back of Boromir's head as the man remained folded in the ranger's arms.
"I am honored that you felt you could abandon your restraint with me, Boromir." said Aragorn. "I have sensed your distrust."
"Please forgive my suspicions. Experience has taught me that a man's words do not always reveal his true intentions. You have always treated me with respect and compassion, yet tonight you have surpassed your usual generosity of spirit. I will never forget this, Aragorn."
"I am glad we have moved beyond any doubt or mistrust," said Aragorn. "You are a good man, Boromir, with a good heart."
"I fear the magic of this place has clouded your sense of judgment as well as my sense of discretion," observed Boromir.
Indeed, thought Aragorn, it may very well have. He was experiencing a mild sense of euphoria and joy mixed with Boromir's melancholy. He lifted his face to the sky, releasing it all into the comforting embrace of Lothlórien. He felt at once lighter than air and completely grounded, in complete union with the forest. On some level, he sensed that he had Legolas to thank for this feeling of elation.
"It is odd," said Boromir, his voice so low Aragorn had to strain to make out the words. "Although we are both men and warriors, we could not otherwise be more different."
"How do you mean?" asked Aragorn.
"To begin with, you resist the one thing I desire but cannot possess."
"Which would be?"
Boromir raised his head and turned to look at Aragorn with bloodshot eyes. "The throne of Gondor," he said, apparently surprised that he had to explain himself, then returned his head to Aragorn's chest. "I have long thought that a true king would never return to Gondor. Meanwhile, my ancestors have stood between the Dark Lord and the complete destruction of Middle Earth. Why should we not become kings?"
"Why, indeed," agreed Aragorn. He heard in Boromir's voice the same wine-induced bluster evident in the hobbits' antics the night before.
"My father insists that we follow the traditions of our forefathers. And on this he will not yield. 'Gondor is ours, but not ours to claim,' he says. And now a man emerges from the mists of legend who claims to be the heir of Isildur."
"Do you doubt that claim?"
"I do not. However, if I understand my father's reasoning, the Steward Pelendur, in rejecting Arvedui's claim to the throne over a thousand years ago, effectively established a precedent that excluded Isildur's line forever. So you may have just as much as trouble as I have had capturing the throne."
"I told you this morning that I have no desire to discuss my future plans, for I have none," said Aragorn.
"Why does the subject of your ascendance to king trouble you so, Aragorn?"
Aragorn had asked himself that same question many times. And he was never pleased with the answer. "I know that the men of Minas Tirith pride themselves on being true to their word."
"Yes, that is so," answered Boromir.
"Then give me your word that you will never repeat this conversation to anyone."
"I give it. You have my word." The Gondorian had not moved from Aragorn's chest.
Perhaps it was the wine or perhaps it was the trust just shown him by Boromir, but Aragorn felt the need to confess his doubts to someone. "I am afraid," he said.
"What is it you fear?" Boromir asked with no recrimination in his voice.
How does one distill a lifetime of doubt to address such a simple question? Aragorn did not answer immediately, but took a moment to consider his reply. "My whole life I believed Men to be weak of heart," he began, "and ill-equipped to resist the influence of greater wills than their own. Isildur's fall to the power of the ring haunts my dreams, and I fear that when my time of testing is come, I will fail as Isildur failed."
"You are your own man, Aragorn. No man is bound irrevocably to the mistakes of his forefathers. To their laws, perhaps. But not to their actions."
Boromir's words found their way to Aragorn's heart, where they took root.
Silence fell between them. The Gondorian's hand began to slowly move back and forth across Aragorn's chest. He felt Boromir readjust his position against the ranger's body, pressing his crotch against Aragorn's thigh. He could feel Boromir's heart pounding against his side. "Boromir, why did you really tell me about your past with the cooking teacher?" he asked.
The hand stopped moving. "I already told you. I wanted you to know you were not alone," Boromir answered.
Aragorn did not believe him. "Are you certain that you were not the one who did not wish to be alone?" he asked.
Boromir pushed himself up on all fours facing Aragorn. "And what if that were true?" he asked. "What if neither of us wished to be alone tonight? Behold," he looked around and then back to Aragorn's eyes, "here we are. Alone together."
"What if I told you I was not interested?" countered Aragorn, staring back into the Gondorian's grey eyes.
"I would say that you were lying," replied Boromir. "I saw you watching me earlier. And I saw the fire in your eyes."
Aragorn could see a fever burning behind Boromir's gaze. The wine fueled the flame, but he could sense the source blazed from the man's broken heart.
"You want me, I know it," proclaimed Boromir in a hoarse whisper as he moved in to kiss Aragorn.
Aragorn ducked down and slipped out of the Gondorian's grasp. He was on his feet in an instant, but was assaulted by a bout of dizziness that dulled his vision and muted his hearing in favor of the pounding of his heart in his ears. Blasted wine! So distracted was he that he did not sense Boromir coming at him from behind until he felt the hands on his body.
~*~*~*~
Chapter 35
"Celeborn contacted me yesterday evening after Boromir did not move north according to your plan," Radagast said. He was explaining the current state of affairs to Legolas as they soared between Lothlórien and the stars. Legolas wished the circumstances were not so dire. He would have liked to take the time to enjoy sailing through the sky on the back of a magnificent eagle, as experiences such as this were extremely rare, even for the immortal elves. He rode behind Radagast, his arms wrapped around the wizard's torso. He would never think of the Istar in terms of sensual passion, but was nevertheless impressed with the wizard's assumed physique. The muscles beneath his hands were firm and defined, and the face Radagast wore was most handsome.
"And it's a good thing he did too," continued the wizard. "Boromir is capable of anything." Legolas silently thanked the Valar for giving him the foresight to visit Celeborn before he left for the northern patrols. "It is clear he has designs on our ranger friend. That much I was able to glean from his dreams. The nature of those designs are not so clear, however."
"What could he do that could endanger the Fellowship's quest?" Legolas asked.
"Should he succeed in luring Aragorn into . . .," Radagast hesitated, "well, let's just say into an encounter, the nature of their coupling will determine the future reign of Gondor and the ultimate fate of Middle Earth."
"Dire consequences, to be sure." Legolas brushed the hair away from his face with his hand, but the wind returned it across his eyes. He abandoned the attempt, knowing the task to be futile. "But in what way does 'the nature of their coupling' affect the future?"
"How much do you understand about Communion?" asked Radagast.
"Very little," replied Legolas. "Rúmil told me what he knew, but there is much that remains a mystery."
"I have studied it for centuries and its mysteries still elude me. And its impact on humans is even more uncertain. But I have been able to glean some basic understanding of the phenomenon. All things are alive. This much I know you comprehend. Everything is energy manifested into physicality and has a unique energy pattern. An energy 'signature', if you will. Energy can be transferred from one thing into another. The energy of the rain is transferred to the plants which transfer it to animals who eat the plants. And on and on."
"I understand," said Legolas.
"During the time of Communion in Lórien, this transference of energy is heightened and increased."
"Rúmil said something about the recipient becoming focused on the provider, seeking to reconnect. He said, 'Until that reunion is made, the bond is yet incomplete.' Does this mean that the love must be requited in order for communion to occur?" asked Legolas.
"Not necessarily. The joining need not be sexual. The emotional intent behind the joining is the core of the energy transfer between the individuals. And the strength of will behind the intent plays a role as well. In its purest manifestation, Communion is shared between two souls who love each other, each giving and sharing in equal parts, creating a binding of spirit."
"So a joining of love creates a bond of light," surmised Legolas, "while a joining of anger or domination creates a darker union." Legolas knew of no elf that had ever forcibly joined with another, but had heard of this happening among other races.
"Your communion lit a fire within Aragorn, which must consume another in passion before it cools, revealing Aragorn's new manifestation. Should Aragorn prevail in the struggle to dominate Boromir, his reign over Gondor will be one of oppression and tyranny," explained Radagast. "Although I can't see Aragorn choosing that road."
"And should Boromir dominate Aragorn?"
"Denethor's son will cast Aragorn down and assume the throne himself, leading to the ruin of all men."
"But neither outcome is desirable," protested Legolas, beginning to understand the expansive implications of his night of passion with the Dúnadan.
"Such is the urgency of our mission. Boromir has lured Aragorn away from the Fellowship, we assume to 'mount his offensive,' so to speak."
"They are alone right now?!" asked Legolas with alarm.
"Yes, and have been all day."
"We must save Aragorn," implored Legolas. He rebuked himself for ever leaving Aragorn's side.
"Indeed. That is our mission. But saving Aragorn from Boromir's advances is not the end of the matter. Aragorn will still need to quell his passion, and you need to be the one with whom he joins."
"But the Lady Galadriel told me that I mustn't offer myself to him. That he must claim me."
"Did she tell you to avoid him? Did she caution you against making yourself available to him?"
"Well, no."
"Well, there it is, then." The wizard was silent for a moment. "You know what this means, don't you?"
"Not entirely," replied Legolas.
"It means you will be bound to him for the rest of your days."
Legolas felt his heart leap for joy. He turned his face to the stars and reveled in the awesome beauty of the night.
"Yes," said Radagast indulgently, "love is a beautiful thing. There is but one small problem. Aragorn is already betrothed to the Lady Arwen."
"Will he refuse to bind with her now?"
"Who knows which love he will choose. He may be incapable of making a choice and lose both in the process. And should he lose the love of Arwen, his reign will be severely weakened."
"What should I do?" asked Legolas.
Radagast turned and looked at him for the first time since they took flight. "How much are you willing to sacrifice for the protection of Middle Earth?" he asked earnestly, peering into Legolas' eyes as if he could read the elf's thoughts before they were spoken.
Legolas suddenly understood what he must do, and it broke his heart.
"Here," said Radagast, thrusting a vial into his hands. "Give a bit to Aragorn and imbibe a small amount yourself before you join. It will ease the journey of both elf and man." His voice was soft and gentle. "I know this is difficult, little one. But it is your destiny. Without your love, Aragorn will never find the king within himself. You will lead the man to the king, bringing hope to all of Middle Earth."
Legolas nodded, accepting his fate. "What of Boromir?" he asked.
Radagast returned his gaze to the east. "We will land on the banks of the Anduin and walk to their location. When we arrive, you attend to Aragorn. Gwaihir will bear you both to the clearing where this all began. Leave the Gondorian to my care."
"What will you do to him?" asked Legolas.
"Boromir fights his own demons, Legolas. Do not judge him too harshly. He, too, has played a vital role in the fate of Middle Earth, and I suspect he will continue to do so."
The glorious view forgotten, Legolas fell silent for the remainder of the flight as he pondered the import of his upcoming reunion with Aragorn.
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