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Like a River
kirby crow


Run and run and run.

We're coming, Boromir! Too far. How had Boromir managed to get so far away in such a short time? Less than half an hour since they had brought the boats to shore at Parth Galen. Shorter still since he had noticed both Boromir and Frodo gone. He had found only Frodo, alone and frightened on the summit of Amon Hen, and they had each gone to greet their demons. He to his temptation and Frodo to his fear. Met and conquered them. Then... the orcs swarming over the rise, the horn sounding through the forest, a great bull roar calling them to aid him.

They tried.

Merry! Pippin!

A black orc rose in front of Aragorn, looming so fast he seemed to have sprang out of the ground. He ducked under the blade slashing at his throat and brought the tip of his sword up, thrusting deep into the unguarded belly of the beast. It howled and fell, but another leaped to take its place.

He was aware of Legolas at his side, a blur of green and gray, a flashing of white-gold hair. The elf danced through the tangle of orcs, blades humming, leaving a trail of black blood in his wake. He killed as beautifully as he moved, a song of death among all that iron and corruption.

... coming!...

The horn again, three short tones. Did they sound more desperate? Even a little ... afraid? No, Boromir was never afraid. Even when he spied the cave troll lumbering through the halls of Moria to Balin's tomb, he had slammed the heavy doors and turned to Aragorn with a wry look.

"They have a cave troll," he said, like he was commenting on the rain.

Just a cave troll? Ah well.

Another orc. Cut him down. Don't stop to make sure he's dead, just hack through them. Too many for finesse, slash and stab, dirty fighting. He kicked one in the nether regions. He wasn't even sure they had parts like proper men but the orc dropped impressively fast.

Acting on pure instinct now. Slam that one's head into the rock, knife into this one's eye. Another orc grabbed him, squeezing his throat. He landed a glancing blow on the creature's iron helm as its grip tightened, his vision fading to gray at the edges. The orc shuddered as Legolas's arrow went into it and blessedly he could breathe again.

No time. Still too far away, and how many enemies between them? He tried to shout in a dry throat, could only croak out a name...

"Boromir..."

And then they were racing down the stone steps, Legolas and he, Gimli close behind, as the next wave of orcs hit them. The trio crashed upon the orcs like waves on an iron shore, desperately trying to cut a path through them to reach Boromir and the hobbits.

Aragorn realized that even as he was fighting for his life his ears were open for the sound of the horn, which did not wind again.

I'm coming!

Fight them. He had something to fight for. Something had grown between them in Lothlorien. It had been budding from Rivendell to Moria, slowly at first and not without its thorns, then more smoothly as they walked deeper and darker paths. Kind recognizes kind, and their drawing together had seemed natural and good. He already knew what Boromir was like in war. In love, the man was wholly different; sweet and unhurried and infinitely tender.

A last night in Lothlorien, the feel of the hot mouth against his, beard scratchy against his cheek, as they lay under a giant silver Mallorn and clutched and pulled at each other's clothing. Boromir's gentle tongue had seemed strange in his mouth at first, then he had melted under its caress as the fire flowed hot and liquid in his veins, limbs turned supple to twine around him, to draw him closer. Ever closer. He could not get enough of him that night.

There was strength in Boromir that matched his own. Different, but compatible. Not the quicksilver of the elves, nor even the black razor edge of his own fury when roused. He was like a river flowing under a mountain, brooding but ever present, quick to change but reliable when needed. Being with him was like finding a lost part of himself he never knew was missing.

Like being able to breathe again.

An arrow buzzed past his ear. Legolas pressed and loosed another almost faster than sight. The silence from the narrow valley below was terrible. He charged into the knot of orcs blocking his way to Boromir and lost sight of Legolas and Gimli.

I'm coming, I will come, wait for me!

Fighting to survive now. He was cut off. No help. A blur of iron and blood and nightmare faces. Drawing upon a lifetime of training just to keep his head on his shoulders. He never knew how he fought his way out of the nest of them but he did at last, blood spilling from a dozen small injuries, sweat in his eyes, but running again. Down the hill into—finally!—the narrow rive, until he was treading on the corpses of those slain by Boromir.

...wait for me...

There! He saw him. Boromir. Exhausted and dazed from the gash on his forehead, sword gone, weaponless, on his knees on the little stone bridge. The Uruk-Hai loomed above him with its bow bent to drive the shaft into his heart.

Aragorn shouted incoherently. The creature turned towards the noise, arrow nocked and bow still pressed...

...and loosed.

The impact cut his legs out from under him, lifted him off his feet and slammed the ground against his back.

For several seconds he forgot to breathe. He was not sure if he could. The feathered shaft of the black arrow protruded straight up from his chest, pointing to a hazy patch of blue gleaming through the treetops. In his ears there was a high, droning whine, and his vision refused to clear.

Time seemed to flow around him. He was not aware of Boromir's pitched battle with the Uruk-Hai, nor his shout of triumph as he killed the thing. Aragorn's chest rose and fell in a stertorous rhythm, becoming uneven now, and then a large form swam into focus and Boromir was crouching over him.

"No," Boromir whispered, long and low, as if the very sound could change things.

Aragorn smiled. He tried to breathe through the crushing weight on his chest and tasted blood on his tongue, felt it running back into his throat.

"I wasn't too late," he said. The world went white for a moment, and he was aware of Boromir shouting at him. What, he couldn't make out.

Then Boromir's fingers curled around the arrow shaft and he could not repress a moan as he felt the sharp metal move deep in his lung. Red agony pulsed through his chest. No man with such a wound lived to tell of it. His hand flailed at Boromir's.

"Leave it," he gasped.

"We have to get it out of you."

He felt dizzy. Why was the forest spinning? "Where are the hobbits?" he asked from far away.

"They were taken." And then, unnecessarily. "I will go after them."

Boromir did not touch the arrow again. There was a black doorway beyond the forest, growing closer. He could see it. A dark, misty arch looming over the wood, leading off into a wonderful and terrible mystery. He felt drawn to it, pulled away, and only barely dragged himself back from the edge. He must tell Boromir ...

"Frodo is gone. Promise me," and then he had to take a breath, though he paid for it dearly in torment. "Promise me you will not follow him."

He felt Boromir's hands on his face, thumb caressing his cheekbone. "I swear it, my king."

Why was Boromir's voice so broken and sad? Footfalls. Dimly he became aware of Legolas standing behind Boromir. He saw the green colors and the pale nimbus of hair, but he couldn't find his face. He couldn't see that far anymore. The doorway beckoned. He thought he saw something move in there, a tall figure of a man, black-haired, with a face that mirrored his own.

Boromir came very close and pressed their lips gently together. Something wet and warm pattered on his face. "Rest now. All will be well. I swear it."

Aragorn tried to answer, but the doorway swept him away like the River Anduin and he shouted in joy as his father, Arathorn, embraced him.

~~~

kirbycrow@hotmail.com

FIC: LIKE A RIVER (A/B) by kirby crow
SUMMARY : A bit of AU concerning Parth Galen. I'm still in denial.
PAIRING: A/B
RATING: PG-13
FEEDBACK: Yes, please! kirbycrow@hotmail.com
WARNINGS: Don't give 'em, don't want 'em. Caveat lector: Let the reader beware.
ARCHIVE: yes for Fellow_Ship and LXF. All others please ask.
AUTHOR'S WEBSITE: http://SlashGirls.tripod.com
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS: Oh, just cause I'm so happy to have found a new fandom that I'm TOTALLY in love with! <g> And we have 2 more movies to go! Wheee!
note: I've loaned out my FOTR book, so my fact and location-checking skills were somewhat hampered. Had to do this from memory. Oi.

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