In the Deep by Alison he mine smelled of old, old dust, and behind that the sharp smell of slaughter. A moving shadow blocked out the glimmer of Gandalf's light, where the old wizard kept watch. Just for a moment. There was only one companion so broad and tall, who could move so lightly. He said nothing, as the man lowered himself quietly to the dusty floor beside him, but remained alert and watchful in the blackness. 'I know you are awake.' said Boromir 'I can tell from the sound of your breathing.' At that, he had to smile. 'Am I as loud, then, as a dwarf?' 'No, heir of Isildur. You are always very quiet. Very quiet. But there is little that I miss.' Yes. There was little that he missed. Aragorn wondered if the other man could hear the beating of his heart, like drums in the deep. Boromir did make a sound then, moving nervously and then instantly repressing the movement. Aragorn heard him draw in a quick breath as if to speak, and then let it out, unused. He waited. If there was one skill he had developed, it was to wait in watchfulness. It was several minutes more, reclining beside each other in the heavy darkness, before Boromir spoke again. His voice was very low, but harsh. 'I have been on many campaigns.' 'Indeed.' 'Oftentimes men can not sleep, but lie watchful in the night.' 'That is my experience also.' Boromir cleared his throat. 'And… at such times… they may lie with each other.' Aragorn caught the faint glimmer of Boromir's eyes as he turned his head away, even as he spoke. It was hard for him to say it. `Are you frightened of me?' Aragorn said. Boromir started with surprise. Perhaps no-one had ever asked him such a question. His head whipped back round and he was about to speak, but Aragorn was faster. His hand reached up like a snake striking and touched the opening lips. His voice was like the faint air moving the ancient dust of Moriah. `You are not frightened enough.' As Boromir's lips tightened in irritation, Aragorn's finger brushed against them. Proud Boromir. I will bring you low. 'I accept your offer' he said, in a perfectly controlled voice. His hand moved from Boromir's lips to the back of his head, and he gripped a broad fistful of hair. Although he could see almost nothing in the shadows, his mouth found his companion's. Unyielding. 'I wish I could see you' Aragorn's ragged voice revealed his emotion for the first time. 'I want to see your face when I make you come.' In the darkness he heard Boromir swallow, though the other man said nothing. Then, convulsively, the hard mouth yielded, opened, and responded. Boromir gripped Aragorn's shoulders, and for a moment each seemed to be vying for control over the other. Then Boromir moved his hands to Aragorn's hips and pushed himself against him. The length of each body pressed against the other, as if they were straining to merge, to become one. Their mouths opened up to each other and Boromir had the sensation that he was falling into a different world. Laying down the burden of being himself, that he had carried for so many years. Then their mouths broke, and they gripped each other gasping for breath, returning to the here and now. 'Careful, Oh great leader of men' said Boromir, in a mocking voice 'We'll wake the little ones.' 'You already did.' came an irritable voice from the darkness. Gimli. 'Get on with it, or shut up.' Boromir felt Aragorn's body tremble slightly, and realised the other man was laughing. Then the absurdity of the situation struck him too, and wrung from him an involuntary snort of laughter. He bit his lip, but it was no use. The two men lay, in the debris of the Mines of Moriah, in the eternal darkness of the depths, laughing quietly, and not ceasing to hold each other. Gandalf heard the brave sound, and sighed, thinking of what was past, and passing, and what would be. Part II alison@alisonpage.demon.co.uk