What Can and Cannot Be
"I do not know anything anymore," Boromir said as he
walked, "my dreams still trouble me."
"Hear me, it does not make any difference, Boromir.
Our paths are clear, there are just too many people
depending on us," Aragorn countered as they hiked back
down to the river.
"Do you not think that I know of what you speak? But I
would speak to you of a future somewhere, where we
could be together."
"Enjoy what we have now. You and I are victims of our
birth and there is nothing in Middle-Earth you nor I
can do that will change that," Aragorn said, kicking
at the ground as they walked. "My wish would be
otherwise also. You know of my desire in this."
"Then give me something to hold on to, Aragorn. After
that night in Lothlórien, I was remade. I simply
cannot imagine going into a future or facing a
tomorrow without you. You make me a fool."
"Do not do this, Boromir. We must do what is before
us. If I had been any other... if you had been any
other, and we had met... things would have been much
different. So much better for us. A future we would
have, without the burdens of duty or leadership."
Aragorn trudged forward agonizing over every word. "We
must not give any thought to tomorrows. We only have
the right to now. Cherish it, Boromir."
"You have lived too long among the elves, " Boromir
said, "your high sounding words make a mockery of my
heart."
Aragorn did not reply. They had been over this many
times since leaving Lothlórien. Before their journey
was over, the dangerous paths they both walked would
probably see one, or both of them dead. Neither could
rightfully, and with reason, have any hope for the
future. The fate of the Ringbearer notwithstanding,
their responsibilities to their peoples and to their
lands prohibited any public union between them. What
was in their hearts needed to be kept secret.
Boromir listened to Aragorn's breathing beside him as
they walked. It was slow and steady and helped to cool
his own fiery thoughts a little. He was in earnest
need of Aragorn's reassurance. His fortune was
inextricably tied to him. Where Aragorn lead, Boromir
would follow. Yes, that was true. But only if they
traveled side by side, moving down the road of life's
fate, to someplace they could truly be one, each with
the other, together. Boromir could not relinquish the
idea of it. He had argued with Aragorn for days about
it.
In silence, they hiked the rest of the way, up over an
incline, and down to the river. The Fellowship had
hidden the boats there, camping a mile or so inland
from the river's edge. Aragorn had used the pretense
of checking on the boats to gain time alone with
Boromir.
Boromir dropped down beside a good-sized tree near the
riverbank. Aragorn walked to the river's edge. He
squatted down and with cupped hands, splashed the cold
river water over his face and neck.
"The water is chill, but it stimulates and refreshes.
It clears the head, " he turned to smile at Boromir.
Boromir smiled grimly back at him and removed his
bracers. He unbuckled his leather armor and flung it
to the ground beside him. "Tell me Aragorn about our
future if we were ordinary men." He stretched his arms
flexing the broad muscles of his shoulders.
Aragorn smiled and moved to sit beside him resting his
back against the tree's smooth trunk. Clover grew
dense around the tree's base, amidst the occasional
clump of athelas. The tree felt thick and reassuring
against him.
"We would live in a small town. Somewhere, where life
was simple and where we could be ourselves. Natural
and deliciously rustic. Where the ground was fertile
and the morning air was rich with the scent of hay and
flowers," Aragorn started. He watched Boromir's face
light up as he seemed to hang on every word. So
serious and intent was his Captain.
"Near to the ocean perhaps, where we could swim and
fish. The townsfolk would be warm and friendly. The
village would consist mostly of men," Boromir
ventured. Aragorn turned to him then and leered,
arching one eyebrow. He then laughed and rolled back,
grinning ear to ear.
"You would be a brewer of ale and highly
disreputable." He laughed and rubbed Boromirs' head,
"I, of course, would be the Mayor and the most
important person in the village."
"Oh you would, would you?" Boromir turned to wrestle
Aragorn and press his back down into the clover. He
held his arms and looked into his face.
"So I am disreputable?" Boromir said, taking up the
joke. His hands touched the strength in Aragorn's
forearms, delighting in their feel.
"Entirely. You would drink on the job and every night
you would return home drunk to ravish the Mayor."
"If he is lucky and if it is convenient," Boromir
quipped grinning down at Aragorn. He bent to kiss him
quickly, once, lightly on his lips.
"If I am lucky? If it is convenient? Boromir, that is
it, let me up," Aragorn put up a pretense of a
struggle, pushing his hips up and wrestling while
Boromir held him.
Aragorn smiled and rose to playfully peck at his face.
"Do you know, I have not kissed you truly since
Lórien," Boromir realized suddenly as he pressed his
mouth upon Aragorn's.
Aragorn moaned as his mouth opened to receive
Boromir's kiss. He felt the tingle of hair from
Boromir's chest. His strong arms held him. The warm
musty smells of him filled the air.
"Wait Boromir..let me take off my shirt," Aragorn said
roughly pulling his tunic from his body. He then
removed his shirt from where it was tucked into his
leggings and tore it over his head. "We have not done
a lot of things since Lórien."
He moved his hand to caress his own chest and reached
to run his hands over Boromir's face and neck. Moving
to him, he lavished wet kisses on him as he swept him
into an embrace.
Boromir lay back with him, kissing and stroking
Aragorn, enjoying the hardness of his body and the
softness of his hair. "Aragorn", he whispered softly,
as he felt a tongue rain more wet kisses on his ear.
The warm steel of their chests rubbed, their sex
pushing together through their clothes.
The fading sunlight danced off their bodies, washing
them in a red glow.
The glow of promises.
The red of blood.
Aragorn eagerly kissed Boromir, entwining one hand
through his hair to grab and hold him, while with the
other he hurried to pull off his leggings.
"Let me, beloved," Boromir said as he hooked his
thumbs into Aragorn's leggings. Slowly and deliciously
he teased them down just an inch and bent to kiss and
nuzzle the hair of his stomach and groin. Using his
mouth, Boromir played with the growing hardness of his
lover through the fabric all the while inching the
clothing down slowly.
Aragorn moaned under Boromir's attentions, flexing and
pushing upward with his hips. With one hand he felt
his own chest and arms, putting his finger into his
mouth. His other hand still occupied in Boromir's
hair, holding him to his task. "Boromir, my love," he
murmured as his love's head found its naked target.
Warm delicious waves of pleasure racked Aragorn's body
as he writhed under the Captain of the White Tower's
capable ministrations. "Oh the sweetness of your
mouth," Aragorn reached down to gently feel his jaw as
it worked.
Boromir savored the salty sweetness of his lover,
teasing him along, using his hands to massage his
stomach, reaching his arm up to touch the dark
sensitive hairs under Aragorn's arms.
"Hail Boromir... hold. I am in longing, I cannot
prolong this," Aragorn shifted his body up, and using
his hands edged backward in the clover, cooling his
passion a little.
Boromir stood up grinning and flexing. He removed his
tunic and shirt, pulling his pants down slowly. He
rubbed his energetic arousal. feeling himself openly.
"Come down here, Boromir, I have the need of you, my
love." Aragorn said, "let not our love's ...expression
peak too soon."
Freeing his legs from his pants, and pulling them over
his boots, Boromir moved to lie atop Aragorn. "Oh, how
good you feel to me," he said as he pressed his body
against Aragorn's.
Aragorn's face was flushed with arousal as Boromir lay
over him. He kissed and nuzzled into the hollow of his
throat. "I would always have you like this."
Boromir sucked at Aragorn's neck and chest, moving his
hand down feeling Aragorn beneath. He withdrew his
hand and wetting a finger in his mouth, moved down
again.
Slick and exquisite, Aragorn felt the Man of Gondor's
finger search him, tenderly explore him. Boromir made
his love's request with that gesture. Aragorn would
not deny him.
On his back, Aragorn raised his legs up to hold them.
"If I ask... forbear," Aragorn's voice quavered in
anticipation.
"There will be no need. I will be your ease," Boromir
replied and moved forward on his knees to Aragorn. He
used moisture from his mouth to wet Aragorn. Deftly he
allowed his fingers to both allay his lover's fears
and elicit his complete physical relaxation. Softly he
lowered his mouth to lovingly prepare him.
Aragorn whispered and moaned, racked with passion,
enjoying the rough feel of his lover's beard and the
warm wet of his mouth. He watched as Boromir raised
his head and moved closer. A slow yet deliberate
pressure pushed into him. He relaxed. Boromir was
looking intently into his eyes.
Aragorn's senses exploded. This glorious man,
honorable Steward of Gondor was taking his pleasure
inside him. The feeling of sensual intensity was
almost more than he could bear.
Sensing his state of ease, Boromir slowly moved his
love deeper into him. Then he eased back slowly. He
repeated it thrice, each time moving a little faster
as Aragorn relaxed under him. Moving with increasing
deliberateness, he bore his passion into Aragorn.
Aragorn rode through a landscape of feeling, his body
awash in dazzling sparks of pleasure. The hot pulse of
Boromir was rekindling and renewing him. Every motion
sent another pulse of pleasure through him. If death
took him, now...he would die happy.
Boromir moved his shoulders so Aragorn could rest his
calves' over them. He looked down into Aragorn's face
splendidly filled with the sweetness of love's
rapture. This was what was certain. This was what was
absolute. Fulfilling Aragorn's passion was his
happiness. In their union, he felt a majesty he had
hitherto never known.
Aragorn rocked under Boromir's desire. He moved his
hands as Boromir shifted his shoulders to support his
legs and caressed his lover's face. Boromir's heated
passion was alive in him. A few glorious minutes was
all he could delay the quickening of his desires.
"Boromir, my love I am overcome," he cried. He moved
to touch his arousal and quickly came his result,
spilling high over his chest and stomach.
Boromir felt Aragorn's hands on his face and watched
as Aragorn touched himself. Seeing Aragorn's climax,
he bent to kiss him. He felt his lovers' flush of heat
and the sweet and sudden tightness of Aragorn around
him. "Hear me Aragorn, I would have you always,"
Boromir shuddered as he tensed his muscles, thrusting
his passionate aim faster and faster, building, until
moments later his intensity exploded, wave after wave,
into Aragorn.
At his peak, Boromir lifted his head to cry his
release into the twilight. Howling his passion as if
by the sheer force of his voice, he could hold back
the tide of night.
Afterward, they lay entwined, savoring the moment.
Holding to each other's grace. Holding each to the
strength of the other. Boromir looked at Aragorn with
a jealous heart. He did not want to share him. He
clung to his King fervently. "I would that death take
me now, than to see us ever parted," he murmured, his
eyes looking searchingly into Aragorn's.
Aragorn returned the gaze. This was a man built of
passion and heart. Harder than the Adamant of Barad
Dur. This was a man who would not let his dreams die
without a fight.
Aragorn's eyes traced the features of his lover's
beautiful face, memorizing each one in turn. The line
of his jaw, the softness of his cheek, his beard, his
graceful brow, the vigor in his eyes. There was no
patience or restraint in this man save for what
Aragorn requested of him.
"Come with me to the river, Boromir" Aragorn whispered
into his ear, "let us be in the water, together."
They sat up and removed their boots. Then they arose
and with hands clasped, and moved into the river.
Aragorn delicately poured water onto Boromir. He
washed him slowly. With his hands he cleansed him. He
reveled in the glory of his body. His hands traced
lightly over the scars of old wounds, seeking with his
touch to erase them. Improbable they seemed to be on
his beloved, all too much reminding him of his
mortality. Moving around, he slowly felt for the wall
of his back. Soothing it under his hands as if trying
to erase the pain and tension he felt there.
Boromir was silent and lost in his contemplation. He
could not live without Aragorn. He would not. He
watched as if from a great distance as Aragorn washed
his body. Boromir opened his mouth to speak, but a
look from Aragorn stilled him.
"No more of it, please," Aragorn whispered.
Boromir moved to take Aragorn back into his arms. He
kissed him probing, in defiance, with his tongue.
Aragorn pulled back.
"No more talk of it, I say," Aragorn pleaded, "we have
our duty."
Boromir then cupped his hands to pull water from the
river and splashed his face. He laughed and embraced
Aragorn. Together they bathed and returned to the
shore. Quickly they both dressed and returned to sit
beside the tree. Boromir's bracers still lying next to
him.
Boromir reached into his belt pack and pulled out a
small torch. Rubbing the tip quickly against the tree
it sprang to life.
"Dark things see into the night, Boromir."
"I have need of it Aragorn, my love. I want to show
you something," Boromir replied. He moved gracefully
to show Aragorn his bracers.
"Read Aragorn, ...for I have written it for you"
Boromir handed his bracers to him. "I scratched it
into the material inside, so that it would always be
with me. Next to my skin."
Aragorn took them reverently and read one of them,
while Boromir held the light.
"Kingsfoil My Love Not Athelas.
On the other Bracer was scratched:
Alfirin Lovely Sweet Flower
Aragorn clutched the bracers to his chest as his eyes
filled with tears. He was suddenly without the
strength to resist those words. What hope was there
for what he knew could not be? In Boromir's words he
felt the true depth of his own love. His grief for a
future life to be led without his lover. Their tragedy
of circumstance. His warm tears splattered the front
of Boromir's tunic as he lay his head onto his chest.
Sadly he said, "In any other world, Boromir, in any
other time," Aragorn sobbed against him, "I have no
life except what life is with you, my Boromir."
Gently Aragorn wept, his tears running over Boromir's
chest. He spoke between sobs "I love you... I love
you. " Lightly he tapped at his head in a gesture of
frustration. "It cannot be, Boromir." He choked out the
words. "There is no hope."
Boromir soothed and caressed Aragorn with his hands,
feeling his hair, neck, and shoulders. He pulled him
tighter to him, as if trying to absorb him into
himself. Hugging him close, they shared their hurt.
Gently he spoke to him, trying to transport him away
to another place. To another time. His eyes began to
mist over.
"Aragorn, I know of a town in Gondor, near the Bay.
Where fruit trees are plentiful and there are miles of
sandy beaches," Boromir said as he squeezed him. "It
is so very beautiful. We could find peace and
happiness there. Will you live with me there, Aragorn?
My Beloved?"
The fight in him had fled. They had only this moment.
"Yes, Boromir, I will live with you there." Aragorn
replied, his voice filled with emotion.
But it was a lie and Boromir knew it. It was just a
dream to Aragorn. But he would not relinquish his
future so easily to a dream. Dreams, for him, held no
solace.
Boromir stroked his hair and cooed as Aragorn cried
softly against him.
He would find a way to ensure both victory against the
dark, and a future with Aragorn.
Somehow, he would find a way.
To be cont. in 'Out of Reason's
Lapse Pt 3—'Love is Reason Enough'
Out of Reason's Lapse Part two
by lavingaround
he light of late afternoon colored the air like a
balm. Mists hung in the shade of the trees and in low
rises where the forest ferns were lush. The air was
warm for the time of year and the abundance of verdant
green gave a sense of comfort to the weary. An island
of safety in the midst of a gathering storm.
For You Are A Man of Gondor.
For You are Healing to Me
For When You Take Me In Your Embrace
For When I Am In The Hands Of My King
For Always In Your Arms Is My Healing
For Always Am I Complete In You
For You Always Aragorn"
For We Are Mortal Men
For We Are A Golden Gift To One Another
For My Love Holds Back The Cold Mountain
For A Gleam To Your Eye
For A Gleam To Mine
Touch Me And Feel Of My Love And My Passion
For You Always Aragorn"
