Teach Me...
After the Council, Aragorn appeared at Boromir's quarters. "You were clumsy with my ancestor's sword last night. I am concerned that you don't know how to properly handle a blade."
Boromir glared at him, "And if I don't? Who will teach me, you?"
Aragorn stepped closer, invading Boromir's space. "I have some experience with swords."
Boromir moved until they stood chest to chest. "Show me how to wield your sword."
"The first step is to get a good grip," said Aragorn, as he demonstrated. Boromir moaned as his weapon was firmly handled. "Next you must oil it..."
by Raederle
...
ow to Handle a Sword
Boromir rolled over, looking at the dark hair tousled on his pillow. A sleepy blue eye appeared in the thicket of hair.
"Morning, Ranger," Boromir purred. "You rode quite well last night. Perhaps you could teach me your technique."
Aragorn smirked. "First, you get your mount into the proper position," he said, getting to his hands and knees. "The rider must approach the mount from the right direction, so he isn't spooked."
"Like this?" Boromir knelt behind Aragorn.
"Ah," Aragorn groaned. "That's right. Now ease yourself onto the mount."
Boromir did as instructed, but then Aragorn was beyond speech.
...How to Blow the Horn of Gondor
Aragorn and Boromir were gathering firewood far from camp.
"That pretty mouth of yours is very talented," Aragorn said.
"It doesn't take talent, only practice," Boromir replied.
"Will you teach me?"
"First, you must kneel"
Aragorn complied.
"Then you must take the horn and lick it. Ahhh, yes, just like that."
"Next you try to swallow as much as you can. Ohh."
"And you make enthusiastic noises." Aragorn began humming and Boromir momentarily forgot what he was saying.
"Find a pace that seems good for your partner," Boromir finally continued.
Aragorn was an excellent student and Boromir decided that he needed no further instruction.
...How to See in the Dark
"This endless dark oppresses me," Boromir complained
"Come with me. I'll teach you how to see in the dark." Boromir followed Aragorn.
"First, take off all your clothes," Aragorn instructed. "But, uh, leave the vambraces on."
Boromir acquiesced, hearing rustling noises coming from Aragorn's direction.
"Reach out with your other senses, especially touch."
Boromir's hands encountered naked skin. "I think I found your sword."
"Ohhh. Are you starting to see?"
"Let me explore further," Boromir replied, running his hands over scarred hide, his nose nuzzling a musky-scented neck, his tongue tasting salty skin. Aragorn moaned when the vambraces skimmed his flesh.
...How to Hope
Boromir sat in the enchanted woods of Lothlórien and despaired. His eyes were begging for something that Aragorn could not interpret. He had never seen anything in Boromir's gaze other than lust.
"It is long since we had any hope," Boromir was saying, but his mind was not on his words. His entire being was focused on Aragorn, praying that the Ranger would teach him how to hope, would teach him the thing that he had to understand. Because hope was the one thing he had lost long ago. And Aragorn could not see how much he needed it.
...How to Fan the Flames
"Would you learn another use for your pretty mouth?" Aragorn asked. He climbed out of the shady forest pool, propped his rear up and spread his legs.
"Gladly."
"Fan my flames. Here." He shifted his hips.
Boromir laid between the outstretched legs. "Teach me."
"Blow lightly to start the sparks." Boromir's breath ghosted over him.
"Add a liquid lubricant." He groaned as Boromir's tongue swiped him.
"Probe to see how hot it is." Aragorn panted as the warm muscle plunged in. "Handle the sword also."
Minutes later, Boromir raised his head. "Oops, I think I blew it out."
...How to Love
"Come with me, please."
"It's the middle of the night," Boromir grumbled as Aragorn led him into the woods.
Finally Aragorn stopped and said, "I don't know how to love my own kind. The Elves raised me."
Boromir smiled gently and pulled the man to him. "The most important thing to know is our lives are painfully short, so we seize joy wherever we find it."
"Show me," Aragorn whispered.
Boromir claimed Arargorn's mouth as they sank to the forest floor, hands undoing clothing. Boromir rose above Aragorn and entered him slowly and they moved together.
"I love you."
"I know."
...How to Die
The third arrow thudded into his gut and Boromir knew it was over. He sank down, gasping for breath, then his lover was there. Aragorn, I never had to die before.
"They took the little ones," he panted. I don't know how to do this.
"My city will fall," Boromir said. Teach me how to leave you.
"I will not let our people fail," Aragorn promised.
"Our people?" Boromir asked. Aragorn nodded tearfully.
"I would have followed you . . .," Boromir vowed. I can go into darkness with your eyes holding me, with your hands guiding me, with your kiss blessing me.
...How to Live
Aragorn stood beside the Anduin, gazing into the rippling waters. The war was over; they had won. But at such a cost, so much loss.
Aragorn did not know how to continue, how to rule the people who claimed him.
"Teach me how to live, Boromir," Aragorn whispered forlornly.
Sunlight glittered on the water, like sun on golden hair. "I love you." Aragorn spun around, hearing a silken voice.
"We seize joy wherever we find it." Aragorn shook his head, certain he had heard a deep chuckle.
Then his heart suddenly lightened, "Seize joy, yes! And we will meet again!"
