Midsummer
Boromir shut his eyes against the vision that was Arwen. Soon to be his
Queen but, for now, he could safely look away. Aragorn had not yet appeared,
but Boromir could almost hear him pacing in the antechamber. Aragorn was the
typical nervous bridegroom, Boromir thought in a moment of lucidity, not
ready to face the future for which he'd longed for longer than Boromir had
been alive.
Arwen's gown shimmered around her, showing off her beauty to all who cared
to look. The assembled throng took in a breath as one as she approached her
place and turned to await her almost-husband. Boromir heard Aragorn mumble
an elvish encouragement to himself as he began to pursue her, his wedding
attire as fanciful as Boromir's useless hopes.
"They may look the picture of happiness now," Legolas whispered into
Boromir's ear, his hand the sole thing keeping Boromir anchored to the
present. "But their wedding bed will sour and Aragorn will go looking for
someone else to fill it."
Boromir shook his head, careful not to draw attention to himself, knowing
that none cared for the steward at the wedding of a king. "I—I would have
thought you would be more protective of your own-," Boromir's words stumbled
and Legolas tightened his embrace on his shaking friend, "of the princess."
He didn't want to have to watch Aragorn take a bride, but he knew he could
not look away. That would be noted and gossip would be spread. They would
say that Boromir was not as devoted and loyal to his king as he proclaimed
himself to be, that Boromir wished for the days when he would have been
ruler of the realm and not her rightful king. Boromir could not allow that.
It would be too much a betrayal of the facade he had worked so hard to
build.
"There is little love lost between the Greenwood and Imladris, and you are a
closer friend to me than Elrond Peredhel and all the elves of Imladris.
Though I have been told that Elrond's people are freethinkers. Arwen may not
mind you sharing Aragorn's bed."
"My head would roll for even suggesting such an infringement on the king's
honor!"
"But he will know, Boromir. Someday he will. When you don't wed, what then?"
Sorrow pooled at Boromir's eyes as he thought of the conversations he had
had with Aragorn about such a subject. "My heart is my own to love whom I
wish, but...but my body is my king's to be wed at his command." Aragorn had
resisted such a role, but Boromir had adamantly refused to seek a bride for
himself and had placed the choice in his king's able hands. "I must marry
who he says I will. This is obedience."
"Aragorn would not thrust you into such a role—"
"Of course he will. He must." Boromir vision blurred as Aragorn took Arwen's
hand and led her before Mithrandir. "Legolas, for one who has lived his
entire life in a royal court, you have a very odd grasp of politics."
"Elves do not marry at anyone's word but their own."
"I envy you that." Boromir was silent for a long moment, then laughed
humorlessly. "Do you know what I want to do right now, Legolas?" Legolas'
soothing hands massaging at his tense back was his only answer and Boromir
bit back a sob. "I want to strangle the Queen before she can reach the
bridal chamber and take her place for deflowering. My life would be forfeit
for touching her, but for Aragorn to know...I think that one instant would
be enough for me. For Aragorn to know the extent of my love, if only for one
moment before the sword came down-"
"It is not good to dwell on such things."
"Then tell me, friend Elf, what shall I do when their children over-run the
palace and every day I see my king happy with another? What shall I say when
my wife asks why I do not find joy in anyone's company but my king's? Or
when Aragorn calls for a song and I can think of nothing joyful or bawdy? He
will wonder then, and I will have no words to give him, for I cannot be
forsworn and I cannot speak untruth, not about this."
"You must live in endless hope, like all lovers."
"I've tried, Legolas."
"Why won't you let me tell him?"
"Look at him, Legolas," Boromir said softly. "Look how happy he is with his
bride, look how he glows when he kisses her. Look at his soft smile, his
shining eyes, and tell me he could ever shower me with such glances. I would
only earn his pity. Tell me he would ever turn that voice onto me and speak
words of privacy and I will call you a liar this very day."
"You do not know anything until you attempt it."
"And I haven't? Nights on the journey, enough innuendo to drown an ocean of
lovers, and stumbles in the darkness. He isn't interested, Legolas. He
doesn't want me. He wants her."
"Then let me tell Arwen."
"And have the pity of the women who shares the bed of the one I love? Or do
you assume she'll share her husband with the dishonorable steward?"
"You have not lost your honor, Boromir."
"I lost it the moment I looked at him and loved him. Let him have his
ignorance, Legolas. He is much happier with it than he would be without it."
A passing servant offered them wine and Boromir took a goblet without
thinking. "So let him love the White Lady. It is his happiness that
is essential to the pleasant survival kingdom, not my own." Boromir's voice
lowered even more and it was like he was reminding himself more than
Legolas. "I must remember that."
"No one expects you to live without love."
"Legolas. Do you truly expect me to live with it?"
Legolas was saved from answering the unanswerable by Aragorn's raised voice
from the dais. "Steward, a toast!"
Somehow Boromir put on a delighted smile and lifted his glass. "To you, my
liege, and to our new Queen! May your love outlast Middle-Earth itself."
Aragorn grinned at that and kissed his Queen again, and Boromir died a
little more. He could imagine his blood seeping out onto the white
flagstones and bridal gown and cursed himself for his weakness.
So he took a sip of the potent wine and vowed to wait. Aragorn must never
know.
by Lanna Michaels
hite. Pure. Virginal.
