Boromir wandered through the ancient halls and silent terraces, intrigued and at the same time disturbed by the strange quality that night seemed to have in Rivendell.
He could sense elven presences in the darkness. Now and then, at the very edge of his vision, he thought he could almost catch sight of elves moving in the shadows.
But this night felt strange to him, alien...
It seemed to be a distilled double of the day, no more than a temporary darkening of its light, and not something with a nature of its own..
Maybe it had to do with the fact that the elves had little use for sleep, or so Boromir had heard people say back home in Gondor.
Slowly he stepped from terrace to terrace, unable to sleep, as if his body and his mind refused to acknowledge that this eerie interval of time between sunset and dawn was really night, a time set aside for rest from the day's cares.
The terrace he was now on seemed to extend to the very edge of the trees and for a moment he thought he could hear voices coming through them. Real voices...
He moved towards the sound as if drawn by a magnet. His soft leather booths moving silently on the stone floor and taking him where the terrace gave way to the trees.
He immediately took a step back, merging with the dark shadow of an ancient tree trunk.
The floor of the terrace sunk down into steps leading to a sort of pool. It was not a natural one, he could see that plainly. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to dig the ground up and make a round, marble lined pool where the water shimmered under the soft elven lights.
The voices had indeed been coming from there, he now realized as he stared at Aragorn, seated on some kind of ledge in the pool with the water lapping at his chest and his arms stretched out on its edge. The elven princess, Arwen, was with him, immersed deeper in the pool and facing him, water up to her shoulders and long dark hair fanning behind her like water plants.
A shadow among the shadows of the trees he watched as the two moved closer and the elven princess straddled the ranger, her body emerging from the water, pale and shining like a crystal.
But it was not the sight of the woman's luscious body that had him pressing his hand and arm into the tree bark until it hurt, it was the sight of the ranger, of the dark pelt clinging wet and sleek to the skin of his chest, of the head thrown back, offering to the soft shimmering lights of the elven night a face made sharp and taut and hungry by arousal.
As his shaft swelled under his leggings, Boromir had to admit to himself that it was not the woman he craved, but Aragorn.
He had no desire to sink into the woman's warm body, he would take the woman's place and straddle him, taken by the ranger's cock buried deep inside him, and yet above him, controlling his pleasure, mastering him.
He blanked the elven princess out and focused his avid attention on Aragorn's face, sliding a hand inside his leggings and moving it slowly, letting himself come as he watched the ranger come apart with his body's release. For a second he almost thought the sharp blue eyes had opened and searched the shadows, fixing on him and widening in recognition, but he certainly was too far for Aragorn to see him.
As the elven princess slumped on Aragorn's chest, Boromir scraped his hand on the tree trunk, relishing the feel of the tough bark.. so real.. Silently, he stepped back and returned to the room he'd been assigned, knowing that he would not sleep and that the ranger's face would haunt him until the dawn came and they would leave Rivendell.
Summary: This night felt strange to him.
Rated: R
Categories: LOTR FPS Pairing: Aragorn/Boromir/Arwen
Warnings: NoneChallenges:
Series: NoneChapters: 1 Completed: Yes
Word count: 667 Read: 716
Published: 07 Aug 2009 Updated: 07 Aug 2009