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To Be a Man
by Lanna Michaels


Haldir knew that Boromir was Aragorn's. Knew that Boromir belonged to his king. Knew that Aragorn was the only one Boromir wanted. Knew that the only heart Boromir craved, the only mind Boromir wanted, belonged to Estel. But...but Boromir had conceded to the Marchwarden, given him a night. The fact that Boromir had thought solely of Aragorn did not faze Haldir of Lorien.

He had had Boromir once. And he wanted more.

There was simply something about the Gondorian. Something that drove him mad, drove him to unreasoning lust. Legolas had told him the story of how Boromir had begged to be shaved, to be more appealing to Estel. Foolish mortal, Estel. He was all Boromir desired, yet he was blind to the fact. Legolas had confided that Estel most likely only used Boromir to keep him from betraying the Fellowship. Mortals.

But Boromir. Haldir was at a loss to explain his appeal. The man was not beautiful by any Elven definition. His shoulders were too proud, his face too round and robust, and his smile too quick to come. He was short by their standards as well, hair cropped far too close, and was far too large around. Boromir, by all accounts, should not be appealing.

Yet Haldir could not rid him from his mind.

Was it the danger the man carried around like a second shield that made him enticing to elves? Was it the sheer temptation of man doomed to die? The Lady Arwen had fallen for Estel that way, seeking the vitality of one who lives every day in the shadow of the Gift. But that could not be so. Else, Haldir would have longed for any of the halflings, or even that blasted dwarf! All of them chased death with every step they took, but...

But.

But they were not Boromir. They did not have the desperation that was bred from having no hope. Having no estel, and that was true as well. Aragorn had abandoned Boromir during their sojourn in the Golden Wood. Perhaps he did not wish to seek out Boromir under the Lady's watchful eye. While under supervision, he would stay true to Arwen. Afterwards...well, perhaps Boromir would regain what he so desired.

Haldir felt an uncharacteristic flash of anger. Boromir had given himself freely to Aragorn, given him his love. And with what did Aragorn repay him? Denials, coldness, and such a complete lack of notice that even the Ringbearer noticed. Boromir was being sorely used, indeed.

And Haldir would not stand for it. The Marchwarden leaped off his branch and went in search of Gondor's king.

###

King, indeed, Boromir thought in anger that rivaled Haldir's. A king, but a man who would not act on it. Aragorn dared not claim his crown. Though perhaps that was just as well. After all, Aragorn wanted it only so he may wed. None less than the king of Arnor and Gondor could wed an elf.

Anger fleeing like a banner in the wind, Boromir sank to his knees in the soft winter grass. He had tried. By Elbereth, he had tried. The slippery blades had scratched over his chest and lower, made him less of a man. He had gone without a beard for the first time in over twenty years. All of it, and for a man whose only comment was...

No. It did not bear thinking about. It had got Aragorn into his bed, and that was all that mattered. He had never asked for love. He had not even asked for lust. Aragorn liked elves. Perhaps...perhaps Aragorn could be made to like him?

Boromir sighed again. In truth, he could not fault Aragorn. The man had never been anything but truthful with him. 'Just one night' each time, and each time only for comfort. Aragorn was not looking for a lover; he was looking for a warm body to move under him and to make the appropriate noises at the right times. Aragorn had been looking for nothing more than a substitute for his beloved, and Boromir had merely been that substitute. Nothing more.

And Haldir...Boromir still wasn't certain why Haldir had desired him. Boromir had received the same gift Haldir had bestowed upon him more times than he cared to remember, but somehow Haldir had been different. More experienced, but that was to be expected, and more loving as well. He had felt like he truly cared about what he was doing, like it had truly brought him joy.

Yet, Boromir felt nothing for Haldir, nothing besides lingering gratitude for the moment of pleasure he had given him. Was that how Aragorn felt towards him? Merely a mouth, hands, warm opening that had given him pleasure? Had he used Haldir the same way Aragorn had used him? Boromir felt disgusted with himself. How dare he take the moral ground when he himself had neglected a lover. Disgraceful. Utterly disgraceful.

He should go to Haldir. He should apologize, throw himself on the Marchwarden's mercy. And to what end? Haldir's mouth upon him once again?

No.

No, he would not do such a thing. He was not so desperate, nor so savage. Haldir would give him what he wanted, certainly, but what then? Would Boromir again give voice to Aragorn's name in the heat of passion? Would he again shame Haldir by thinking of another while Haldir was acting the subservient?

No.

No, he could not do such a thing. Such a thing would be unbefitting a man of Gondor.

Yet...

Yet, Gondor's king had done it. Used and discarded, only to come back later for more.

But just because Aragorn did something did not make it right. Not even this. Especially not this.

###

This shouldn't be so hard, Aragorn told himself. After all, he and Boromir were comrades. Brothers-in-arms. Sometimes lovers.

'Really, Estel, how foolish can you be,' the mental rebuke was harsh and cruel. He had sorely used Boromir. They were not lovers. Boromir had allowed Aragorns freedoms because of his love. And Aragorn had taken advantage of that love and twisted it. It was Boromir who had been wronged, not Aragorn. And so it should be Aragorn who apologized.

Aragorn could well remember the night he had awoken to hear the sharp 'snick' of blades swiping against each other. His hand had gone instinctively for his sword, but the sounds of Boromir sighing had halted his motions. Long had he desired Boromir, and it sounded like someone else was partaking in the pleasures the son of Gondor had to offer. Aragorn had raised himself slowly to see Legolas bending over a stiff Boromir...shaving him.

Even now the thought filled him with revulsion. What could draw Boromir down to such depths as to mutilate himself? But...but, he knew. Boromir wished to become an elf. He-he had thought that perhaps, that way he would have a chance.

Aragorn felt disgusted with himself. He had been the one to drive Boromir to such abomination. It was his lack of attention, his disregard, his cold comments. The fault lay completely in Gondor's King. And he knew it.

He could still see the dance of the blades when he closed his eyes, still shivered at the thought of the sacrifice Boromir had undergone for his king to notice him. Boromir had given himself to Aragorn. 'And I have thrown him away.'

He wasn't sure how it had come to this. His original intention, at the start of the journey, was to distract Boromir from the call of the Ring. But over time he discovered that he could no longer mislead Boromir like that. His feelings were too raw and he did not trust what words would come.

To speak of love would be intolerable. Boromir would not believe such a declaration and, in truth, Aragorn could not make it. He could not be forsworn. He would not allow himself the ignominy.

And then to wake up to see what he had caused his love to do...

"Estel, a word."

The voice was cold and Aragorn did not need to raise his head to see who addressed him. "Say what you will, Haldir, and leave me to my thoughts."

"Nay, you will hear me out, you will reply, and we shall have a conversation."

"About what?"

"Boromir."

"Leave him out of any quarrel you have with me!" Aragorn snapped without realizing it. He softened his voice immediately and apologized. "You have caught me at a bad time, Haldir. I—I am not myself right now."

"You deserve it," Haldir pulled Aragorn bodily to his feet and shoved him against the mallorn on which he had been leaning.

"Tell me what fault you find in me and leave me to my grief."

That stopped Haldir. "'Grief?' Over what?" His voice turned bitter, though Aragorn did not know why. "What cause have you for grief?"

"What concern is it of yours? Are you not here to accuse me?"

"I am."

"Then speak your piece. I will listen." Acceptance was the only defense against irate elves. They were stronger than any man and taller than most. Aragorn could not beat Haldir in even an unfair fight.

"You have used Boromir for your own selfish purposes. You will cease immediately."

Aragorn stared at Haldir for a long moment in complete incomprehension and then shrugged. "You have no need to defend his honor to me. I have not touched him since we approached Lothlorien, and have no intention of ever touching him again. He is, I assure, completely safe from me. I shall do him no ill."

"I worry more about the ill you do him without realizing, the ill you do him when you do not touch him! He is starved for your presence, yet you do not go to him. He longs for you, yet you will not hear. He will do anything, has done everything, for your notice and regard. And with what have you repaid him? With—"

"With his freedom," Aragorn interrupted smoothly. "With freedom from any semblance of good feelings towards me. Do not rebuke me, Haldir, I know what I have done. And, I assure you, if I could change it, I would. But I cannot. It is far too late for that."

"Indeed," Haldir agreed. "Do you know what happened, Aragorn? Do you know what he screamed out when I took him to my bed?"

Sudden fury overtook Aragorn and he backhanded Haldir without thinking. "You didn't. He would never-"

"Oh, he certainly would. He let me wrap my lips around him and suck. And do you know what he called out in my moment of passion?"

"Did he let you enter him?" Aragorn asked, matching Haldir's original chill.

"He called out for you, Aragorn. You scarred him for life and then discarded him like an apple core."

"Did he let you take his pleasure in him!?" Aragorn demanded. Haldir fixed him with a pitying look and left.

###

Left with his own thoughts, Boromir knew, and he would quickly become morose. But the hobbits were nowhere to be found, and Legolas was off with some distant elvish relation, or something of that nature. Gimli was sleeping, and so Boromir took point guard next to him, envying his comrade's easy slumber. He would find no sleep this night.

The February moon shone bright around him, lighting up his surroundings, leaving its coldness for Boromir alone. Boromir felt thankful for the attention, yet resentful for the quality of it. Perhaps Aragorn was related to more than just a star.

"It's a beautiful night, is it not?"

Boromir jumped and turned. "Aragorn. Forgive me, I did not hear you approach." He moved over to give Aragorn room to sit on the soft moss.

"We have to talk."

Boromir nodded. Anything to hear Aragorn's voice, to let it smooth over all his pains and doubts. Even if Aragorn's words would be hateful, it would still be worth it to hear the beauty in Aragorns tone. Boromir had borne the front of Aragorns anger enough times to know not to relish it, but his time with Aragorn had been so fleeting as of late that he relished every word that Aragorn would deign to give him. "As you say."

"You let Haldir take you to his bed."

Boromir raised an eyebrow. "I was not aware that I needed your permission to allow an elf to put his lips around my sword."

"And was that all that happened?"

"Of what do you accuse me, Aragorn? Infidelity? I was unaware that you claimed any hold over me, save that of king."

Aragorn shook his head frantically. This was obviously worrying him a great deal. "Did you allow him inside you, Boromir? Did you let him take his pleasure from your body?"

"No."

Aragorn could only blink at the answer. "You didn't?"

"He asked for the pleasure of my release, but did not ask for his own, so I did not give it to him."

Aragorn felt a warm feeling move through his body and he smiled in delight. He had been given a chance, and by Haldir of all people. Haldir could not have known what he had done, else he would not have done it, yet he had given Aragorn a chance to undo his ill. Aragorn could ask for nothing more. "Boromir, will you let me make things up to you? I was foolish and did not see what I was doing to you. I...I acted in haste and not very well. Will—will you let me try again?"

And as Aragorn claimed Boromir's lips once again, yet also for the first time, he pondered that he would never have thought that he would be moved to such a haze of pleasure contentment that even thanking an elf would not trouble him. Even an elf such as Haldir.

Fin.

###

lannamichaels@hotmail.com

Title: To Be A Man
Author: Lanna Michaels (lannamichaels @ hotmail.com)
Website: http://www.geocities.com/lannamichaels
Series: Follows To Be An Elf
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Character assassination would not be character assassination if I owned them, yes?
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Boromir/Aragorn, Boromir/Haldir
Summery: Sometimes it takes an elf to show you how to be a man.
A/N: Written for the contrelamontre word challenge: to use the last word of each scene as the first for the next, and the first word of the fic as the last word. 90 minutes allowed, 81 minutes, 44 seconds used.
Boromir/Haldir is for Bithy. Boromir/Aragorn is for me. :p
Archive: Please.
Feedback: Adored.

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