Go to notes and disclaimers

In the Shadow of Tol Brandir
by Sparky

Aragorn was bleeding. The orcs slashed at him with their blades but he chose to duck between them and keep running, fighting only when he must. No thought did he give to pain or consequence, his one thought to fly to Boromir's aid. He perceived that he was too late. Boromir lay in a crumpled heap and orcs charged toward him with weapons raised. Yet hope returned to Aragorn's heart when his friend rose to engage the attackers.

When he sighted the Uruk-hai captain readying his second arrow, Aragorn leapt at him with a cry, but the bolt had already been released. Boromir twisted and caught it in the shoulder. When Aragorn had finally dispatched his nemesis, many more orcs had fallen to Boromir's sword, yet the bulk of the company had moved on and the steward's son had again fallen. Aragorn rushed to his side and knelt close beside him. Boromir's face was pale and sheened with sweat, his breathing labored. He clutched at Aragorn's shoulder.

"Have you seen Frodo? I tried to take it. I tried to hurt him..."

"I let Frodo go."

Legolas and Gimli came upon them then and Aragorn asked the two for water. They had none but set off at once to retrieve the gear. Aragorn moved to sit close to Boromir, clasping his hand.

"I meant to guard Merry and Pippin, but the orcs have taken them. I think they still live."

Aragorn frowned. "We ought to follow them, but you cannot travel. These wounds may be long in healing, and we are not near to friendly folk."

"You must continue without me."

"No! Were you dead, I would not leave you to the orcs." He grew quiet and thoughtful, then said, "There is no right choice. If they have taken the hobbits to Saruman, we will want for help in rescuing them. We should not let the trail grow cold. And yet it seems we must, for we cannot leave you behind. I think we must make for Rohan, though I wish I knew what welcome we would receive."

Legolas and Gimli had returned. Aragorn grasped the shafts of the arrows and drew them out, then washed and bound the wounds.

"Boromir," he said, "I pray you are not gravely hurt, still I fear you may yet slip away." His cool finger's stroked Boromir's fiery brow as the injured man fought to hold sleep at bay.

When next Boromir awoke the sky was dark. He was half wrapped in his cloak and another lay spread on the ground beside him. His outer clothes were gone. Faint firelight revealed the form of Aragorn at his side and made pale glimmers shine from the ranger's watching eyes. "Welcome back," he said. "I am glad you will live to fight again at my side," and he bent and kissed him gently on the cheek.

Boromir smiled. He wrapped his arms around the other man and drew him down for a kiss that was less than gentle. Aragorn did not resist, but in a moment he pulled away, saying, "You are not well enough. You must rest."

"I am already much recovered. Our lives are too uncertain to wait." He reached out again, feeling his strength return. Aragorn's lips met his, and this kiss was all hunger and heat. Desperate desire, reined in for so long, found expression at last. Boromir pulled at Aragorn's tunic, tasting the skin of his neck and throat, and Aragorn shivered at the touch of teeth. His hands roamed over Boromir's chest and shoulders, and though his hands were cool, even through the thin cloth, his touch was like fire. Boromir moaned with pleasure and surprised them both with the name he called.


Aragorn smiled with a touch of wickedness. He tore Boromir's tunic and flung it away, then trailed kisses down his chest. Boromir drew ragged breaths, pressing close against the lean strong body in his arms. At the same time he clutched and tugged at Aragorn's garments in an unfocused effort to pull them off. Again the ranger smiled. He drew away and removed his clothing, all save the grey trousers. He returned and knelt beside Boromir, gazing at him for a moment.

Then Boromir leaned close, breathing deep the scent of his beloved. He pulled Aragorn down to lie beside him. Eagerly he sought to learn, by touch and taste, all of his king's secrets. With deft fingers he explored strong shoulders and smooth flanks, chest and ribs and belly. Then with lips and teeth, he claimed each realm for Gondor. Each gasp and moan he counted as a victory.

Venturing further, he slid the trousers down and Aragorn lay naked and beautiful in the fading firelight, his eyes closed, all trust and need. Boromir grasped his hips and took him in his mouth, tasting almost reverently. Aragorn's fingers wove into his hair and a stream of words poured from his lips, the sounds foreign yet captivating. Then Boromir swallowed deep, and the grip on his hair tightened to the edge of pain. After a moment the fingers relaxed, and Aragorn's right hand sought his, twining their fingers together. Boromir closed his eyes, overwhelmed by sensation. He could hear only his own racing heartbeat and the harsh sound of Aragorn's uneven breath as he was undone by ecstasy. After that it seemed to Boromir as though he fell a long way and landed gently on soft ground. As he drifted into pleasant sleep he knew Aragorn bent over him, kissing him many times and murmuring words he did not catch, except on one occasion when he spoke in a voice of command. "Boromir," he said. "Live for me."

Again Boromir awoke, this time to cold, darkness and pain. Every breath he drew sent waves of agony through him. It was difficult even to think; yet he knew he must reason and plan. What had become of his companions and what was to become of him?

The pain was from the arrows. He remembered standing against the Uruk-hai. He remembered falling. The orcs had taken Merry and Pippin, but Aragorn had come to his aid. Aragorn was gone, along with Legolas and Gimli. They must have set off to find the hobbits.

Of course. It was the only choice. They could leave no fire, lest enemies be drawn to its light. But Aragorn had come to him by the fire. They had...

No. He now understood clearly that all that had been a dream. Still, he was loath to consign it to fevered imaginings. The light kindled in Aragorn's eyes, the sheltering warmth of his embrace - these memories he would keep and treasure, real or no. Yet they had never held each other. Never kissed. Never...

It did no good to dwell on that. He would rest a while, then get up as well as he might and learn what he could of his circumstances.

He found, however, that as he waited, the pain only grew. He was unable even to sit, unable to move any part save his left hand. Casting about in the dark, feeling the cold ground beneath him, brought no answers. He thought that he heard footsteps approaching and was seized with fear, yet resolved to meet bravely with this doom.

But the sounds faded from his hearing, and his thoughts began to flow disordered, as water over the falls. He could not draw enough air with each breath and the darkness seemed to press in on him. As his reason was breaking, one truth came to his mind. "I have dreamed it all," he thought. "Not love alone, but rescue also. My companions did not seek for me, traitor to the quest and to all hope. I have been many hours dying slowly and here will I lie unmourned."



Title: Date: 1/6/01
Title: In the Shadow of Tol Brandir
Author: sparky (sparky_mccoy@yahoo.com)
Rating: NC-17, to be safe.
Pairing: Boromir/Aragorn
Spoilers: book and movie
Disclaimer: I don't own them. They own me. No money made, no harm intended.
Notes: I guess it's movieverse AU. I'd love a better title, that's always the hardest part. A million thanks to Bertina and Deejay for the beta, Faela for the last-minute consultation, and Ramius for putting up for my insanity. Archive: sure!

back to top

[Stories by Author] [Stories by Title] [Mailing List] [Gallery] [Links] [Guestbook] [Writers' Resources] [Home]