Love and Death

Part One

 

Author:  Kinkyhobbit

Pairing:  Boromir/Legolas

Genre:  LOTR slash (movie-verse)

Rating:  NC-17

Disclaimer:  Tolkien’s characters, I’ve only borrowed them to play with for a bit.

Summary:  Legolas and Boromir at Lothlorien.

 

 

Love is born

With a dark and troubled face

When hope is dead

In the most unlikely place

Love is born

Love is always born

Michael Leunig

 

He was so grateful of their arrival in Lothlorien he could not keep from smiling despite the pain inside. It was so different to Rivendell, but it was still a home to him. A place that understood him.

 

He watched Boromir speaking to Aragorn, Boromir’s almost earnest manner matched as always by Aragorn’s cool reserve. A real-life demonstration of their vast differences. He never got tired of watching it happen, and it was a nice distraction for now.

 

Aragorn should have been an elf. His years as a Ranger had made him quiet and reserved, certainly devoid of the arrogance displayed by others of his race. He was deadly, but did not look it. He had a grace and calm that other men did not possess. He was not rash or overly emotional, but controlled and always ready. Just like an elf warrior.

 

He was a stark contrast to Boromir, who often seemed merely to react to his surroundings, to what happened and what was said. He didn’t seem to think very far ahead of the moment, and the way he so readily displayed his thoughts and feelings for others to see was almost naïve. He kept nothing hidden, it was all there on his face, and he had an easy smile. Legolas found himself wondering if Boromir truly intended to be that honest and open, or if he just did it without thinking.

 

Boromir seemed close to tears. They all suffered, but the hobbits had closed in almost protectively with each other, Gimli would not talk or reveal a thing, and Aragorn…as always, Aragorn was strong. It was hard to see what he was feeling. Boromir was the only one obviously close to the edge. Legolas found himself almost worrying about the man. He liked him, he really did, and it surprised him how quickly he had begun to feel that way.

 

But Legolas did not want to deal with anyone else’s grief right now, much less his own. He did not often have to see those he loved or cared for die. It was still so foreign a thing to him and he wondered if he would ever get used to it. The last thing he thought before he drifted into sleep was that he just might have to.

 

***

He was woken during the night by footsteps. The soft tread of feet on moss and soil, the whisper of leaves. He knew it was Boromir.

 

He followed the sound and found Boromir pacing restlessly on the other side of the trees where they were sleeping. The moonlight had drained his already pale skin.

 

“Take care you do not wander too far, Boromir,” he said softly, smiling as Boromir jumped at his sudden presence.

 

Boromir continued pacing, his arms crossed in front of his chest. “I cannot sleep…I have tried, Legolas, but I cannot. I just…I needed to find some…peace.” He spat the word as if he disliked its taste, and looked up at the trees worryingly. “But we are never far from her sight, are we.”

 

“That’s why you are safe here,” replied Legolas softly.

 

Boromir turned to face him, his frustration visible, his voice an urgent whisper. “Then why do I not feel safe?”

 

“Because you will not allow yourself to trust us.”

 

“I cannot.” Boromir shook his head. “We are greeted with suspicion and distrust here, how can I trust them?”

 

“Do you trust me?”

 

Boromir swallowed and looked away. “It is not the same.”

 

“Remember what you said at the Council?” asked Legolas, grasping his arm. “By the blood of your people are our lands kept safe? Would your people give so much for us if we could not be trusted?”

 

Boromir closed his eyes and hung his head, suddenly remembering it was Legolas’ strong arms that saved him at the bridge. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry Legolas.”

 

Legolas let him go. Boromir sighed and looked up, a strange, sad smile on his face. “I am afraid,” he said simply.

 

He was a soldier who was brave in battle, but his position called for more than that. It called for him to be brave for all his people too. For everyone. That was a burden he found difficult to carry and often behind his eyes a frightened man looked out, well aware he was out of his depth. Legolas glimpsed him before he was pulled back into the shadows.

 

Legolas knew there was too much at stake for it to all fall apart now. The Fellowship had to be kept intact. They had to conquer each other’s fears. And Boromir…he tried to convince himself that he wanted to be near Boromir to keep an eye on him, to keep him away from Frodo and the Ring. But he wasn’t sure that was the reason.

 

Boromir turned to walk away again, but Legolas’ words stopped him. “If I promise to stay near, will you try to take some rest?”

 

Legolas put his hand on Boromir’s arm, gently, letting it rest there. Boromir stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but didn’t.

 

Legolas leaned closer. “This is a safe place,” he said softly. “You will find no safer place outside your own land.”

 

Boromir placed his hand over Legolas’. Legolas glanced down, momentarily surprised.

 

Boromir stared at him, lost for words, then simply nodded. They turned and walked in silence back to where the rest of the Fellowship slept.

 

They returned to Boromir’s bed, cushioned by moss under a tree. As Boromir lay down Legolas sat beside him, watching. Boromir looked up at him as if trying to comprehend this sudden, more intimate kindness.

 

“Are you not afraid?” he asked at last, unable to think of anything else to say.

 

For a moment Legolas said nothing and Boromir closed his eyes to sleep.

 

“We are all afraid,” said Legolas eventually. “That’s why we are here.”

 

***

He dreamed.

 

Of a darkness that roared in his ears. Of a fire that lived and breathed, angry and evil. Of staring helplessly, knowing there was nothing he could do to fight this creature. Of wanting to save Gandalf, so desperately wanting to, but turning and running instead. Running like a frightened child. Out of his depth again.

 

He wasn’t sure if he had cried out. He heard the sound in his head, deafening compared to the silence of the night. He wasn’t sure.

 

His vision cleared with the touch of a hand on his chest. He looked up into Legolas’ concerned face, eyes regarding him steadily. He could not read them, but the hand was gentle as it pushed him back down.

 

He felt tears coming and a sob building in his chest. He pushed against Legolas’ hand, trying to sit up, and Legolas pulled his hand away.

 

“I dreamt...I dreamt that...” tears filled his eyes and he stared at Legolas. “It was no dream,” he said softly, as the tears fell. “Was it?”

 

Legolas simply shook his head. Boromir sat up, taking a deep shuddering breath. Legolas reached out and grasped his forearm and Boromir leant his forehead against the elf's shoulder.

 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured as his grief took him. He closed his eyes and let the tears fall unhindered. He hated this loss. The terrible emptiness that inevitably followed. The feeling of failing.

 

Legolas wasn’t sure what to do, but he knew what Boromir needed. He put his arm around Boromir’s shoulders and pulled him closer. Boromir let his head fall against Legolas’ chest, the elf’s hand warm against his back. He tried not to sob too loudly, and when he did Legolas put his other arm around him and held him tight to quieten him.

 

Legolas let his head fall back against the tree, staring up at the sky. He tried to remember when he had decided he liked Boromir after all. Without thinking he pressed his face into Boromir’s hair and kissed him, then realised what he was doing and pulled back.

 

Boromir knew. He sniffed and lifted his head, looking up at Legolas. Puzzled, almost surprised.

 

Legolas let him go and looked away. “You should try to sleep.”

 

Boromir nodded, and then paused. “Have you?”

 

“A little.”

 

Boromir sat up and stretched, then sighed. “Don’t…” he swallowed nervously.

 

Legolas tilted his head, frowning, and Boromir smiled and looked away.

 

“Stay,” he murmured. “Please.”

 

Legolas nodded. Boromir nodded in response, and then went to lie down again. Legolas gently grasped his arms and Boromir stopped, turning to look at him questioningly. Legolas said nothing, but simply reached around Boromir’s body and quickly, easily pulled him back against his own chest.

 

“I will be here.”

 

Boromir let it happen, too stunned not to. Strong arms held him, gentle hands resting across his chest…he needed this. He hadn’t realised how badly he needed it until this moment. He remembered being held the same way before, for an instant, before they lost Gandalf. Standing on the edge of a sheer drop and Legolas being quick enough to grab him from behind and stop him from falling. Holding him safe…just like now. He closed his eyes, hearing soft Elvish words in his ear. Soothing and calming. Safe.

 

He was tired but still couldn’t sleep. Legolas’ hand played absentmindedly with a clasp on his tunic and he watched, fascinated, struck by how slender and delicate those fingers were. It was a well-trained, highly-skilled hand that had taken many lives. It was a warrior’s hand. No man could do the things Legolas did and have hands like that. It was the little things that reminded him of what made elves so different.

 

Without thinking he reached out and touched Legolas’ fingers. They stilled and he pulled away, uncertain. Then Legolas’ hand reached for his, grasping it gently, holding it warmly against his chest. He closed his eyes.

 

He didn’t know how long he lay there in those warm arms. He wasn’t sure when he first felt the soft brush of Legolas’ lips against his brow. He turned slightly and looked up and saw those dark, strong eyes regarding him gently. Legolas leaned closer and he did not turn away or pull back, instead closing his eyes and awaiting the touch of those lips on his own. And when they touched, he wanted nothing else in the world except for them to stay.

 

***

Boromir woke. There were no dreams this time, just the deep, restful sleep he had so badly needed. He felt gentle movement beneath him and remembered…slow, gentle kisses, soothing hands, strength and warmth. He lifted his head to see Legolas already awake.

 

“Did you sleep?” Legolas asked softly.

 

Boromir smiled. “Yes, yes I did. Thank you.”

 

His gaze faltered as the elf’s hand slowly caressed his chest.

 

“You?” he asked.

 

Legolas smiled. “Yes, I slept.”

 

He felt drawn to those lips again, but now it was different. The light in the forest was brighter and Legolas seemed almost to glow with it. Boromir wasn’t sure what to do, but he leant down anyway and was rewarded with a kiss from a mouth warm and welcoming.

 

When they parted he gazed again into Legolas’ eyes, trying to read them, and failing.

 

“Is this…” he stopped, not sure what he was asking.

 

“What?”

 

“Is it…now? Only now?”

 

 “I don’t think we can ask for more. Not yet.”

 

He sighed, his hand suddenly trembling as he reached to touch Legolas’ face. “I want more,” he whispered.

 

Legolas stood and held out his hand. Boromir grasped it and Legolas pulled him to his feet.

 

“Come with me.”

 

He followed Legolas to a secluded area where a stream became a pool which had been shaped into a more permanent fixture. It was now deeper and larger and at the moment, totally empty. They were alone.

 

He stopped, suddenly nervous. Legolas turned to him and began to undress, locking eyes with him. Boromir couldn’t take his eyes off Legolas and before he realised what he was doing he stepped quickly forward, stilling the elf’s hands, removing his shirt for him. He felt Legolas’ hands doing the same for him, Legolas dropping to his knees to remove his boots and trousers. He licked his lips nervously as Legolas glanced at his hardening cock and looked up at him.

 

“You…you don’t have to…” Boromir said softly.

 

Legolas said nothing, instead standing and following the stone steps into the water. Boromir watched his body disappearing beneath the surface, creating only the tiniest ripples. Boromir followed him and Legolas pulled him quickly into a long, deep kiss, running his hands over his shoulders and chest, wetting his skin.

 

The water was warm, probably from some kind of spring, and faint spears of sunlight somehow managed to find their way down to play on the surface. It sparked and flashed brightly in Boromir’s eyes and he found it easier to keep them closed as he explored Legolas’s body.

 

Legolas pulled them both under the water and then up, and Boromir relished the feel of the water through his hair, Legolas tongue tracing the path of the droplets on his face. Boromir found himself returning the gesture, following the droplets down Legolas’ neck to his chest, down to the surface of the water. He suddenly felt playful and ducked his head briefly under the water to nip at Legolas’ stomach.

 

Legolas moved behind him and slid his arms around him, gently kissing his neck. Boromir let his head fall back as Legolas stroked him, hands moving down his body, down his back and pausing at his cleft. Boromir closed his eyes, a soft moan escaping his lips.

 

“Are you afraid now?” whispered Legolas.

 

“No. No, I…” he swallowed and turned to kiss Legolas again. “I want this,” he said softly.

 

He couldn’t believe he’d said that, and couldn’t believe he let Legolas do that to him. Soldiers did whatever they had to for companionship when they were away from home, and it was usually devoid of any real emotional attachment, or at least no more than was required to feel comfortable with each other. There was always an understanding that it was merely satisfying a physical need, nothing more.

 

He kept looking at Legolas’ hands, at his body and eyes, and he couldn’t ignore their power over him. He worried that it was just a fascination with elves generally, that he was just using Legolas to explore. The doubt grew in his mind as they kissed in the water, as Legolas’ gentle but firm hands teased more from his body than he thought he wanted to give.

 

But when Legolas entered him, he knew.

 

He could feel the stone against his back and Legolas holding him up in the water, pushing gently inside him, slowly, watching his face. When he cried out softly and tensed Legolas was still, and only when he opened his eyes again did Legolas push further.

 

“Yes…”

 

He closed his eyes again, reaching out to put his arms around Legolas. He felt warm lips on his shoulder and neck as Legolas moved slowly inside him, and heard his name whispered close to his ear.

 

“Boromir…”

 

He knew, in that moment, what it all meant.

 

He wanted to ask Legolas how he felt and what he wanted, and then scolded himself for being so…he couldn’t even think of a word. He just felt Legolas would laugh at him if he asked such questions. But he wanted to know, and wanted to tell him, too. Tell him this wasn’t just a need, it was something more. Legolas meant something to him.

 

And he would have found a way to say all those things if Legolas hadn’t suddenly thrust deeper into him, shuddering. Then he couldn’t speak, he could only stare at Legolas, his head back, jaw clenched and eyes closed, releasing and filling him.

 

When Legolas opened his eyes and smiled at him Boromir felt an overwhelming desire to do the same for him, to give completely to him. Before he could move or think Legolas gently withdrew from him and put his head down to take Boromir into his mouth. He sucked slowly, gently, and it didn’t take much before Boromir arched his back, thrusting upwards, fingers digging in to the elf’s shoulders. At last Boromir felt it hit him and he came, Legolas stifling his last moans with a kiss.

 

 

Kinkyhobbit 2002

 

Part 2

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