Overthrow the World
My love is like a storybook story
The healer was at once admitted into the presence of King Denethor and after a
few minutes of careful study, announced that the King's case, though very
serious, was not entirely hopeless.
"Somewhere in the Western Sea," the healer told the King, "there exists a
golden-headed fish. If you can manage to catch this creature and bring it to me,
I will prepare an ointment from its blood which will restore your sight. For one
hundred days I will wait here, but if at the end of that time the fish should
still not be caught, I must return to my own master."
The next morning Prince Boromir and Prince Faramir set forth in quest of the
fish. They each took one hundred men and rode to the Bay of Belfalas. A little
fleet of boats was awaiting them and they sailed in these to the middle of the
Western Sea.
Each brother turned his fleet in a different direction to search the sea. For
three months and more, they labored diligently from sunrise to sunset, but
though they caught many fish, not one of them possessed a golden head.
"It is quite useless now," said Boromir on the very last night, "for even if we
find it this evening, the hundred days will be over in an hour, and long before
we could reach Minas Tirith the healer will be on his way home. Still, I will go
out and cast the net once more myself."
And the Prince did so, and at that very moment, the moment that the hundred days
given to him were up, he drew in his net and found the golden-headed fish
entangled in its meshes.
"Success at last, but unfortunately too late." Boromir was resigned. "All the
same, put the fish in a vessel full of water, and we will take it back. Then my
father will know that we have done what we could." Denethor was famous for his
rages when thwarted and Boromir would do anything to avoid receiving of one of
the King's tirades.
But when he picked up the fish, it looked at him with such piteous eyes that he
could not bear to condemn it to death. For he knew that though the healers in
his own city were ignorant of the secret of the ointment, they would do
everything in their power to extract something from the fish's blood.
Boromir picked up the prize of so much labor and threw it back into the sea and
turned his ship around for the journey back to the White Tower. When at last the
Prince reached the Citadel, he found the King in a high fever, caused by his
disappointment. Denethor refused to believe Boromir's story.
"I expect this sort of compassionate foolishness from Faramir, but not you! You
are as pragmatic as I am, I know you!" Denethor worked himself into a rage.
"Perhaps you do not know me as well as you think!" Boromir shouted, his own
anger roused.
"Your head shall pay for your defiance and deceitfulness!" the King screamed and
he ordered his courtiers to summon the executioner to the palace.
Someone ran at once to Queen Finduilas and told her of the King's order. She put
common clothes on Boromir, filled his pockets with gold and hurried him on board
a ship docked at the river which was sailing for distant lands that very night.
"Your father will repent this some day, and then he will be thankful to know
that you are still alive," the Queen told her son. "In the meantime, Faramir and
I will keep you in our hearts. But one last counsel I will give you: take no man
into your service who desires to be paid every month."
The Prince thought this advice rather odd. If a servant had to be paid anyhow,
he did not understand what difference it could make whether it was by the year
or by the month. However, his mother had Elvish blood running through her veins
and he had learned many times that she was wiser than he, so he promised to heed
her words.
Boromir stood at the stern of the ship which was carrying him down the Great
River of Gondor and away from everything he had ever known. He had never really
understood his parents' relationship, which was quite tempestuous at times. He
had thought that they were a loving family in spite of all that, but he had not
expected that his father would react so violently to his failure. He was sad to
be leaving his beloved country, but he was young in the counting of his race,
for he was of Númenórean descent, and he was glad to be starting an
adventure. He left the stern and turned his face into the wind, ready to face
whatever the world might bring.
The ship sailed to the south along the shores of the Western Sea and after many
weeks, docked at an island not far off the coast. It was full of hills and woods
and flowers, and beautiful white houses stood everywhere in gardens. Boromir
lost no time in buying a house and acquainting himself with the town.
He was a strange sight among the local populace, for his golden hair and green
eyes set him apart from the darker southerners. His generous nature and friendly
smile soon put them at ease and servants came pressing to offer their services.
However, they all declared that they must be paid at the end of every month, so
Boromir, remembering his mother's injunction, declined to hire them.
After a time, a man dressed like a Ranger of Eriador appeared, begging Boromir
to engage him as his retainer. The man had dark hair and startlingly blue eyes,
and his face had the weatherbeaten look of someone who had lived outdoors. He
carried a sword and had a competent air about him that Boromir liked
immediately.
"What is your name?" Boromir asked.
"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn," the man replied.
"And what wages do you ask?" Boromir inquired after he had questioned the man
and found him suitable.
"I do not want money," answer the Ranger. "At the end of a year you can see what
my services are worth to you and can pay me in whatever way you like." Boromir
was pleased and took Aragorn for his servant.
Now, although no one would have guessed it from the look of the part of the
island where Boromir had landed, the other side was a complete desert, owing to
the ravages of a horrible sea monster which devoured all the corn and cattle.
The Governor of the island had sent bands of soldiers to lie in wait for the
creature in order to kill it, but, somehow, none ever happened to be awake at
the moment that the depredations were committed and were eaten by the sea
monster. The same thing invariably occurred the next time a group went on watch.
At last, heralds went throughout the island to offer a great reward to the man
who could slay the sea-beast.
As soon as Aragorn heard the news he went straight to the Governor's palace. "If
my master can succeed in killing the monster, what reward will you give him?" he
asked.
"My daughter or anything else besides that he chooses," answered the Governor.
"He shall choose when he returns," replied Aragorn.
That night the Ranger stole down to the shore to watch. Aragorn had a wide
knowledge of herbs and unguents, so before setting out, he had rubbed himself
with an oil which made his skin smart so badly that there was no chance of his
going to sleep as the soldiers had done. Then he hid himself behind a large rock
and waited. By and by a swell seemed to rise on the water and, after a few
minutes, a hideous monster, part bird, part beast and part serpent, stepped
noiselessly onto the rocks. It walked stealthily up toward the fields, but
Aragorn was ready for it and, when it passed, plunged his dagger into the soft
flesh behind one ear. The creature staggered, gave a loud cry and then rolled
over dead.
Aragorn watched for a little while, in order to make sure there was no life left
in his enemy. The huge body remained quite still, so he left his hiding place
and cut off its ears. He took these back to Boromir, bidding him to show them to
the Governor and declare that Boromir himself, and no other, had killed the
monster.
"But it was you, not I, who slew him," objected Boromir. "And you risked your
life to do it, why would you want me to have the recognition for it?"
"Never mind; do what I bid you. I have a reason for it," Aragorn answered.
Boromir did not like taking credit for what he had not done, but Aragorn
insisted and would not be refused, so he finally gave in.
The Governor was so delighted at the news that he begged Boromir to marry his
daughter that very day. But the prince refused, saying that all he desired was a
ship which would carry him to see the world. Of course this was granted him at
once, and when he and his faithful Ranger embarked, they found stores of
diamonds and many other precious stones which the grateful Governor had placed
there for him.
They sailed for weeks and weeks, enjoying the sea voyage and each other's
company. Boromir found that Aragorn had a large stock of stories from the past
ages of Middle-Earth and he was a gifted storyteller. The two men practiced
sparring with their large swords every day, to the mingled amusement and horror
of the sailors, who feared for the rigging when their mock battles took them up
amongst the shrouds.
Finally they reached another great kingdom and the ship docked. Aragorn left
Boromir on board and went ashore to find out what sort of place it was. After
some hours he returned, saying he heard that the King's daughter was one of the
most beautiful princesses in the world and that Boromir would do well to ask for
her hand in marriage.
Boromir listened to this advice and, taking some of the finest necklaces given
to him by the Governor, he mounted a splendid horse which Aragorn had bought for
him. He rode up to the palace, closely followed by his faithful Ranger.
The strange King happened to be in a good humor, and they were readily admitted
to his presence. Laying down his offerings on the steps of the throne, Prince
Boromir requested that the King grant him his daughter in marriage.
The monarch listened to him in silence, but finally answered, "I will give you
my daughter to wed, if that is your wish, but first I must tell you that she has
already been betrothed to a hundred and ninety young men, and not one of them
lived to see her at the altar. I advise you to think, while there is yet time."
Boromir was so frightened that he very nearly went back to his ship without any
more words. But the Ranger whispered to him, "Fear nothing the King says, but
take her."
"The luck must change some time," Boromir said at last, "and who would not risk
his head for the hand of a peerless princess?"
"As you will," replied the King. "I will give orders for the marriage to be
celebrated tomorrow morning."
And so it was done. After the King's announcement to his court that Boromir
would wed his daughter, the princess would be brought to Boromir's room for
their engagement dinner, for that was the custom of the country.
While waiting for the princess, Boromir paced the room, while Aragorn sat
peacefully, ignoring his master's agitation. The prince's gaze suddenly fell on
the silken coverlet laid out across the bed and he saw that his name was
embroidered on it and the date of his death was given as that very night, for
this was the pleasure of the King.
Boromir was horrified at the spectacle and he turned away to look out his window
to calm his nerves. The moon shone bright and the prince was staring at the
distant hills, when his attention was drawn to the ground beneath his window by
the sound of digging. A group of men were digging a hole and Boromir could not
understand why they would be working so hard at that time of night, but he saw
that the shape of the hole was long and narrow, almost like a grave. And he
realized that it was his own grave they were digging.
He whirled from the window to face Aragorn. "I cannot do this, we must leave at
once! Give me open battle instead of this awful waiting for some unknown doom to
fall."
Aragorn stood and clasped Boromir's sweating hands in his own. "Never fear, my
master, I will not allow any harm to befall you." Boromir found the strength and
reassurance he sought in Aragorn's blue eyes and he nodded, exhaling a nervous
breath.
A knock sounded at the door, letting the men know that the princess had arrived.
Aragorn slipped quietly behind some draperies, while Boromir opened the door for
the princess and the servants who quickly set up a table under the windows and
laid out a sumptuous meal.
Boromir was enjoying the dinner for the food was exquisitely prepared and the
princess was quite beautiful, though he found her a little vapid. They had
nearly finished when the princess suddenly said, "Look in my eyes."
Boromir was startled by this command and before he knew what he was doing he
looked into the princess's eyes and found himself trapped in her gaze. He was
rendered speechless, yet he was fascinated and unable to move. At this moment a
small black snake darted from the mouth of the princess and wriggled quickly
toward him. But Aragorn had been secretly watching for something of this sort to
happen. Seizing the serpent with a pair of pincers he had been holding in his
left hand, he cut off its head with his sharp dagger.
The princess slumped forward in a faint and Boromir summoned the servants to
remove her. He then requested an audience with the King.
The King could scarcely believe that Boromir had survived his dinner, but when
the prince told his tale, the King realized that his daughter must have been
under some sort of enchantment.
"I will grant you my daughter's hand, if you still wish to go forward with the
wedding," the King told Boromir.
"I find I have lost the urge to marry and I will set sail with my Ranger in the
morning," Boromir replied.
The King was so grateful to the prince for freeing his daughter from the spell
that he pressed many jewels and bags of gold from his treasury onto Boromir.
So Boromir and Aragorn departed, even richer than they had been before. And once
again they delighted in each other's company.
Finally, they reached a magnificent city set in a deep harbor and there they
resolved to stay for awhile and rest from their journeys. Aragorn quickly found
a house for them and they settled in to enjoy the delights of the town.
One evening a man in strange garb arrived at their door. He asked to see Boromir
and, falling on his face before the prince, announced that he was a messenger
from Queen Finduilas, proclaiming that King Denethor had died and that Boromir
was the heir apparent.
"The Queen summons you to Gondor, Prince Boromir," the man said. "Prince Faramir
has been acting as regent in your absence, but the nobles have declared that
they will have you for their King. They demand, however, that you choose a bride
to marry as soon as you return to Minas Tirith. Your coronation will take place
the day after your wedding and no sooner." The man bowed and departed to await
Boromir's decision.
The prince sat silently for many minutes, grieving for his father and their
bitter parting. How could he have known that he would never again see Denethor
in life? Aragorn sat quietly, giving his master time and space.
Finally Boromir shook his head and laughed, "It seems I am King, if I can just
find myself a bride! A pity that I have already turned down two."
Aragorn smiled, "I have heard that the king of this land has a daughter who is
wondrous fair. Perhaps you can win one more."
Boromir agreed and so they decked themselves in their finest clothes and the
jewels they had accumulated from their other adventures and went to seek
audience with the king. Aragorn rode ahead, openly proclaiming Boromir as a
prince and future King of Gondor.
They were admitted to the throne room, for the King was curious to meet the man
who would rule Gondor. The Princess sat beside her father on a small chair and
she was indeed radiantly fair, with golden hair and rosy skin. Boromir presented
his suit while Aragorn stood by, observing all with his icy eyes.
The King rubbed his chin reflectively, "I am inclined to accept you as my
daughter's husband, but you are as yet unproven as a ruler. I require you to
complete a task for me. Will you accept?"
Boromir turned to Aragorn, who nodded. Boromir declared, "We will undertake any
task you assign us. My Ranger will accompany me wherever I am sent."
"Agreed. There is a spring far into the mountains to the east of this city. It
is reputed to have the power of healing in its waters. I desire that you bring
to me a flask of that miraculous water."
"We will make preparations to leave at once," Boromir bowed and left the throne
room.
When they returned to their house, Aragorn said that he would go by himself to
find the spring in the mountains. Boromir objected, "No, it is clearly
dangerous, or the King would not have inflicted this on me. You are not going
alone."
Aragorn growled, "Dangerous, yes, which is why you should stay home. I am your
servant, it is my responsibility to take this quest on your behalf."
"Servant?" Boromir snorted, "I have never had such a bossy servant and besides,
you will take no money from me. Therefore I say you are not a servant at all. I
name you friend."
"Friend?"
"Yes, and I'm coming with you."
Aragorn reluctantly conceded and the two men prepared for their journey to the
spring. The season was mild, so they were inclined to camp on the way.
The King's counselors had provided a vague map to the spring, which appeared to
be a five day trek into the mountains. Aragorn had purchased two rough ponies,
suitable for mountain trails, for the men to ride. They started out early the
next morning, and the weather was cool, but sunny.
Once outside the city, they started up the hilly paths. The route was too narrow
to ride abreast, so they went in silence for most of the day. Boromir found
himself wondering about the man who accompanied him. The Ranger was dressed
simply and proclaimed himself a servant, but Boromir had spent his life around
nobility and Aragorn's manner confused him. The man was clearly well-educated
and just as obviously was used to commanding others. But he conducted himself
humbly and was in general an excellent assistant.
The day's enforced silence had left Boromir in an talkative mood when they
finally stopped for the night. The two men set up camp quickly and efficiently.
Aragorn was cooking their dinner over the campfire, when Boromir found himself
telling Aragorn how he came to be exiled. He had never revealed the story of
Denethor's murderous rage to anyone before, but something about Aragorn
encouraged his confidence.
Boromir kept talking throughout dinner and they had settled comfortably into
their bedrolls.
"My parents always had a passionate relationship and that covers a lot of
emotions. They would have disagreements that the whole Tower could hear, but
then the next moment they would be kissing and dashing for their bedroom. I
always thought that they must have loved each other deeply."
Aragorn sat quietly, while Boromir unburdened his heart.
"But now I think I don't know anything about love," Boromir mused. "We are here
to win my bride, but this will be a political alliance. She's beautiful, but
there's no love involved. I always thought that love would be like a riot in
your heart, strong enough to overthrow your whole world. I've never felt that."
He rolled onto his side to look at the man beside him. "What about you, Aragorn,
have you ever been in love?"
Aragorn sighed and removed his pipe from his mouth. "I loved someone once, very
much. I loved him enough that I would have done anything for him."
"What happened?"
Aragorn caught the Gondorian prince in his blue gaze. "He married someone else."
Boromir felt as though he was drowning in the sadness he saw in the other's eyes
and did not know how to comfort his friend, so he sat quietly, offering his
presence.
They continued the trip the next morning, riding in silence. When they made camp
at night, they were easy in each other's presence and conversation ran
comfortably between them. So the days passed.
At noon on their fifth day of travel, they reached the general vicinity of the
spring as indicated on the map. They were in a narrow green valley with
steep-sided walls. The undergrowth was thick and lush. They were forced to cut
their way through the brush to reach the rock walls of the cliffs.
After some hours of searching, they found the cave where the spring was hidden
and Aragorn made a torch from the brushwood nearby. The two men entered the
cavern cautiously, not sure what they would be facing. The firelight illuminated
a flight of shallow steps going down into the dimness. They could hear the faint
gurgling of water coming from below.
Aragorn's torch burned fitfully and Boromir held his breath as the shadows
seemed to bear down on them. They started to descend the stairs, crouching
slightly to avoid the stalactites hanging from the ceiling. As they went on, the
steps became cluttered with what appeared to be branches, until Aragorn lowered
the torch to the floor and they realized that they had been walking across piles
of human bones. They gazed at each other in consternation, but then Aragorn
shrugged and Boromir gave him a sunny grin.
"So be it," whispered the Prince.
As they went down, one of the shadows detached itself from the wall and
approached them. As it drew closer, they could see that the shadow belonged to a
hideous giant who was carrying a skeleton in his left hand. The skeleton was
very decayed and smelled awful, with a few shreds of flesh still clinging to it.
Patches of long red hair could be seen on its head.
"Halt, mortals!" the giant demanded. "None may gain the spring without my
leave."
"We respectfully request your permission to take some water from the spring,"
said Boromir, bowing low.
The giant pulled a huge, nail-studded mace from his belt and answered, "You may
pass if you first tell me how beautiful my wife is." The giant indicated the
skeleton in his left arm and stood looking at it fatuously.
Boromir had an impulsive and straightforward nature, but Aragorn had been raised
to be polite no matter what the circumstances. So when Boromir started to say,
"That thing . . . ," Aragorn swung around abruptly, catching Boromir in the
stomach with the flat of his sheathed sword.
While Boromir was still gasping for breath, Aragorn said, "Truly your wife is
unique in all this world and I have never seen her like."
Now the sad fact was that the giant had once been married to a lovely woman but
she had sickened and died some years past. The giant had been lost in his grief
and had refused to accept her death. He had been guarding the spring and any man
who insulted the skeleton in his arms was immediately struck down with the
giant's awful mace.
The giant was overjoyed at Aragorn's words and proclaimed, "I have killed many
men who have told me she is nothing but a skeleton. However, you are a man of
true discernment and I will allow you to take as much water as you need from my
spring." He strode off out of the cave, murmuring lovingly to the bones at his
side.
Boromir and Aragorn continued down the stairs and found the small spring flowing
into a basin at the bottom. Boromir was still unnerved by their encounter with
the giant.
"My friend, it seems I owe you my life, once again," he said. "I'm sorry my
hasty tongue nearly got us killed."
Aragorn looked at him for a long moment and then threw his head back and roared
with laughter, "It is easy enough to save you from your hasty tongue."
Boromir was stunned for the normally solemn Ranger was completely transformed by
his laughter. The guarded face looked youthful and handsome in his mirth.
When Aragorn regained his composure, he place a hand lightly on Boromir's arm,
"Do not apologize for your open nature. A person always knows what you are
feeling and that is a pleasant thing."
The return journey was uneventful and they presented the flask of healing water
to the King. Once he had determined that the water indeed had healing powers, he
proclaimed Boromir's engagement to the Princess and declared his intention of
sailing with his daughter to see her wed to the future King of Gondor.
Boromir and Aragorn returned to Minas Tirith accompanied by the Princess and her
father. The citizens rejoiced at the homecoming of their beloved son of Gondor,
the Captain of the White Tower. Queen Finduilas insisted that they have some few
weeks to get ready for the wedding. Boromir spent the time hunting in the White
Mountains with Aragorn, while Faramir took it upon himself to educate the
Princess in the customs of Gondor, to prepare her to be its Queen. Thus the two
brothers passed the weeks on the beginnings of the paths in their lives that
would lead them to quite different fates.
The night before the wedding, Aragorn came to Boromir's chambers. "I must leave
your service, my Prince. I have received a summons from home, which I dare not
ignore."
Boromir felt as though someone had dealt a harsh blow to his chest, but he was
determined to show no grief in front of his friend. "If you have no choice, then
I will release you with my blessings. I had thought that you would be by my side
forever. I would have been dead many times, if not for you."
"And I would have died, if not for you," Aragorn said, staring intently into
Boromir's green eyes. "You saved my life when you had no reason to, other than
your loving heart."
"What do you mean?"
"I was the golden-headed fish. I am the oldest son of a minor prince of the
Númenórean royal house. My step-mother had dabbled in the Black Arts and
she feared my influence on my father and turned me into the fish. She also let
it be known that my blood had healing powers."
"Númenórean? We do not see many of those people in Gondor, though my line
is descended from Westernesse nobility. You have the appearance of a northern
Ranger, how?"
"Before I was cursed, I enjoyed traveling and I entered the service of the King
of Arnor as one of the Rangers of Eriador."
"But you are as royal as I am. Should I call you Prince Aragorn?"
"If it pleases you," Aragorn smiled at his friend. "But now I am summoned home.
My ship departs tomorrow at noon and I will not be able to attend your wedding."
"I will miss you," Boromir stood and hugged the darker man. Aragorn returned the
embrace and then pulled back to stare at Boromir. He seemed as though he would
say something more, but then he nodded and turned away. Boromir gritted his
teeth to stop himself from calling him back.
The next morning, Boromir, clad in his wedding finery, stood at the altar,
Faramir by his side, watching the beautiful Princess approach. His thoughts
strayed back to the quest that had given him the right to wed her. He should be
the luckiest man on Middle Earth, but all he could think about was how much he
did not want to be there. And he would not have been standing there if it wasn't
for Aragorn. The Númenórean prince had saved his life many times over and
helped him win his bride. Once Aragorn's face had appeared in Boromir's memory,
though, the prince could not clear his mind of thoughts of his friend. He should
have been rejoicing in his lovely bride, but he could not get Aragorn to leave
his brain. He tried to dismiss Aragorn from his mind. Noon was soon approaching,
and his friend would be on the ship for home.
The girl and her father reached the altar and the old man placed the Princess's
arm through Boromir's. Boromir stood rigidly at attention as he had been taught
all his life, but a feeling of terror was roiling his stomach. Thoughts of
Aragorn were careening through his head like a riot.
Suddenly Boromir stood even straighter. He remembered the conversation he and
Aragorn had long ago, about love. What he was feeling was not a riot in his
head, but a riot in his heart. He loved Aragorn, loved him enough to overthrow
his whole world in the name of that love.
The cleric was mumbling his way through the ancient ceremony, but Boromir turned
to the beautiful woman at his side. "I can't marry you."
"And I can't let you marry her," Faramir said.
The hall fell completely silent and the cleric stopped mid-phrase. Boromir
turned to the Queen, "I'm sorry, mother, but there's something I have to do."
Queen Finduilas gasped, "What do you mean? You have to marry her, so you can
become the King!"
"He doesn't love her, mother," Faramir interposed. "But I do."
"Perfect, little brother," Boromir grinned. "Mother, I'm leaving the Princess
and Gondor in Faramir's able hands."
Boromir ripped off the elaborate, bejeweled wedding cape and flung it on the
floor. He ran back down the aisle and out the door, ignoring his mother's wail,
"Boromir, no! Where are you going?"
The prince could think of nothing but reaching the ship bound for Númenor before
the noon bells rang as he raced down through the levels of Minas Tirith. He
burst through the city gates and charged to the Harlond.
The ship carrying Aragorn away from him was just hoisting its sails as it
rounded the bend in the Anduin to the south. Boromir raced to the end of the
dock, yelling with all his power to attract the attention of those on board, but
the ship slowly disappeared down the river.
Boromir slumped down on the wooden dock, fighting back his tears, as he watched
the river that had taken away his hopes.
He was so sunk into his misery that he barely heard the soft voice inquiring,
"Why do you grieve, son of Gondor?"
Boromir raised his head slowly, staring in disbelief at the man standing before
him. "You were supposed to be on that ship," he stated blankly.
Surprisingly, Aragorn blushed. "I find had some business which I left undone
here in Minas Tirith. But you have not answered my question."
"I grieve because I thought that I had lost you," Boromir stated.
"So honest," Aragorn murmured. Then he added, "What of your bride and your
kingdom?"
"I care nothing for either! Please, take me with you," Boromir begged. "Have you
finished here? Let me come with you!"
Aragorn knelt down beside the Prince of Gondor. "Why do you want to leave with
me and give up everything to which your birth entitles you?"
Boromir bowed his head. "Because my heart beats for you," he whispered. "I know
I can't replace your lost love, but I can be anything you want me to be, just do
not send me from your side."
Aragorn threaded his fingers through Boromir's golden hair and lifted his head
so he could look into the prince's leaf-green eyes. "Aye, I'll take you." He got
to his feet, pulling Boromir up with him.
"We'll ride to the Mouths of the Anduin and find a ship from there. Stay here
while I find some horses. Do you object to camping once again?"
Boromir shook his head mutely, as happiness flooded through him. Aragorn
returned an hour later with three horses and they set off on the southern road
along the river.
At nightfall they made camp and ate a simple meal. Boromir was staring dreamily
into the fire, reflecting on the upheavals his life had gone through in the past
year. Aragorn sat down beside him, "Now, my prince, we must talk."
Aragorn took one of Boromir's hands in his own. "I must admit that I have
deceived you," he said.
Boromir was puzzled, "You told me of your heritage, what else is there?"
"When you asked me if I had ever loved someone, I let you think that person was
someone from my past. But I was talking about you."
"Me? Why didn't you tell me?" Boromir was astounded.
"Many reasons. We were trying to get you a wife, I was your servant, and also
you had never given me any indication that you thought of me in those terms. I
was afraid. I am not brave enough to be as honest as you are."
"Oh, love, do not be afraid of me," Boromir wrapped his free hand around
Aragorn's neck and pulled him into a kiss. When they broke for air, they started
working at the fastenings of each other's clothes. Boromir found his lips
tracing every inch of Aragorn's skin that he could reach as Aragorn gently
pushed him down onto the bedrolls. Boromir felt utmost contentment as Aragorn's
weight covered him. When at last Aragorn was buried hilt deep inside his body,
and they were joined in the most intimate embrace, Boromir felt the world tilt
on its axis as his old life and everything he had known disappeared into
Aragorn's heat.
by Raederle
But it's as real as the feelings I feel
—Mark Knopfler
ong ago, before the world was changed, there was
a King of Gondor named Denethor who had lost his sight from a terrible illness.
Months passed and all the best healers in the land were unable to cure him. The
King grew so thin from misery that everyone thought he was going to die, and his
sons, Prince Boromir and Prince Faramir, thought so too. Great was the rejoicing
throughout Minas Tirith when a traveler coming down the River Anduin declared he
was the court healer to the Elven King in Greenwood the Great and would gladly
examine the eyes of the blind man.
