This place was ethereal and filled with enchantment. More beautiful in his eyes than even Rivendell had been. More eye-pleasing than the White City, though that he would dare not admit openly. And this was but a taste of what was concealed further in the depths of Lothlorien. He could scarcely imagine what Caras Galadhon would look like, if indeed it exceeded the beauty of the outlying lands. It was safe and peaceful and by all rights he should have taken rest with ease, for Boromir felt weary to the bone after such a woeful expedition.

Boromir hid in his heart the wish they had continued on. This place made him uncomfortable. It was as if someone watched him constantly, though no eyes could be seen at this hour. None upon him, at least. The Son of Gondor let his eyes fall upon a form standing close by and swirled the cup in his hand absently. Such beautiful pale hair, on so fair a form. The Marchwarden Haldir kept watch as the captive Fellowship rested in wait to be lead to the city.

His general opinion of Elves was not flattering. He thought them too arrogant for their own good and would gladly see them off. If they wished to run away from Middle-earth, so be it. They were reclusive and tended not to care for the affairs of the world around them, a world that kept them safe from Mordor's threat whether they gave thanks for it or not. The son of Arathorn he added to this list, for Aragorn acted more Elf than Man and even seemed to fear his true heritage. Boromir lifted his cup to his lips and exhaled.

This Haldir at least seemed to have an edge to him uncommon among the Elves Boromir had witnessed. Not that he believed Lord Elrond and this Elven whelp called Legolas unable to cover themselves in a fight--The Prince of Mirkwood had indeed fought bravely in Moria, but in this new Elf he sensed a deeper passion for battle. A passion he himself held. How would this Haldir defend himself if Boromir decided to put him to the test? It would be foolish to attempt anything of the sort, but sleep would not come to him. Perhaps if no contest could be made, then a conversation at least could be had. Boromir pushed himself up from against the trunk of the tree they were in and carried his cup with him to where the Marchwarden stood. "Are you in need?" Haldir asked through a neutral, if distant, tone.

Boromir smiled and shook his head, taking a long sip from the wine in his hand. This seemed to irritate Haldir. The Man took another drink. "No need. Sleep evades me and I thought perhaps to pass the hours in your company."

To this Haldir made no reply and looked neither pleased nor vexed. It simply was and the Son of Denethor took another drink, then at the continued silence, resolved to study the Elf beside him. He was confident and quiet Boromir noted and silently praised these traits. His skill with a sword was doubtlessly uncontestable by many and that would likely go double for that bow slung over his shoulder. Yet what got his attention most was the beauty of this man. Long hair that seemed to be made from the beams of starlight fell upon his back and Boromir was hard pressed not to touch it out of simple curiosity. Those eyes of unending Elvish wisdom gazed out across the forest, half-lidded in vague interest of what was going on at such an hour. What had brought the Elves from their usual chores and merited concern had been taken into their control.

Lothlorien was quiet tonight. Boromir rested his gaze upon the crystal blueness of Haldir's sight and wondered idly what might widen those eyes.

"And what opinion has Boromir of Gondor formed of Lothlorien and the guardians within?" Haldir asked suddenly, without turning. There seemed to be an air of distrust about him when he spoke.

Boromir crossed his arms, still clutching his cup, and exhaled. "Your home fills me with longing and dread. My thoughts are my own and I've heard rumors that here a man's mind is no haven to privacy."

This time the Marchwarden offered his attention with a certain gaze. "You have things you wish to hide?"

The conversation was going nowhere Boromir cared to go. What he cared to hide was none of this Elf's business, nor the business of the rumored Elf-witch hidden somewhere within this forest. He was a man of honor and hid nothing in his heart he did not deem worthy of a son of Gondor. "My opinion of Lothlorien's guardians are much the same," he chose to say, allowing his eyes to travel Haldir over.

"Longing and dread?" Haldir repeated, returning the look fully with concealed interest. "What do you long for and what do you dread?"

A smile spread across Boromir's features as he held his wine up to take a drink. "I long for a contest and I dread leaving without it." At Haldir's untrusting glare he lowered the glass and added, "A friendly contest. Nothing more."

Haldir turned back to the forest without another word, seemingly disinterested in a fight. This disappointed Boromir, who felt restless enough to press the issue a little more. "Do you fear it?" he asked after a few moments had passed.

The Elf looked on him with slightly heated eyes. "I assure you there would be nothing to fear," he replied, watching Boromir with something akin to disdain.

This brought a chuckle from the human's lips as he threw his head back in amusement. Without knowing why he brought his free hand up and let his fingers mingle with soft, blond hair. "Prove it, pretty Elf."

A small span of time passed as Haldir regarded him, likely weighing just how serious he was about this request. The Marchwarden exhaled and pushed his hand away, then took a step. "Follow," he commanded simply and Boromir obeyed, laying his wine down and exiting the tree with him.

They came to the hard ground below and some paces away to be obscured from disturbing the others. Reaching a suitable place, Haldir turned back to his human foe. "What sort of contest would you have of me, Boromir of Gondor? You have a sword and I arrows, both deadly weapons."

Boromir nodded once. "Hand to hand then."

Haldir's lips spread into the first smile the Man had seen since meeting him and he found it delightful. The Elf took on a defensive stance, allowing Boromir the first hit. A hit that was easily deflected. Boromir stumbled back and felt a swell of embarrassment flush him, but the defeat was only momentary. He made the pretense of striking out again and Haldir defended that move, but was taken by surprise when Boromir changed his throw and hit him in the jaw instead of his stomach. The Elf's head snapped back and when he recovered, there was amusement in those pretty blue eyes. He wiped the blood from his lip and showed it to Boromir with a grin. "You have skill after all, human."

Boromir laughed and dodged a few blows given, but fell when the Elf tripped him up. For a moment he paused, watching Haldir from below and an idea came to mind. Without warning he threw himself forward, but instead of knocking Haldir back as the Elf had expected, he wrapped his arms around his foe's knees and bent them, causing Haldir to tumble into his lap. Boromir was quick to roll over him and pin the Marchwarden to the earth, emptying his quiver onto the dirt as he kept all attempts to escape under control. The Elf's breathless gaze made his drawn fist stop above.

Instead the human brought that hand down gently and traced Haldir's jaw with a new fascination. The shock of that movement ceased his enemy's half-hearted struggles. "Such a pretty conquest beneath me. 'Twould be a shame for me not to sample it," he whispered, letting his senses heighten to other feelings besides those made for battle. A growing sensation against his flesh caused him excitement of a different kind. "And is that interest I feel? Do you wish to experience what a Man can do to you, Elf?"

Haldir awarded him with half-lidded eyes, and unmoving, he replied flatly, "You are laying against my arrow."

Boromir grinned breathlessly and forced his hips forward, drinking in the sight below him in sudden desire. "Mmm, your arrow? Good." He caressed the soft cheek below his hand possessively.

The Elf pursed his lips and freed an arm, producing an actual broken arrow that made the human grunt. Boromir ignored any insult as Haldir quipped, "Foolish Man." The Marchwarden tossed the broken thing aside and may have spoken more, but the human was much too lost in what now held his longing to allow embarrassment to stop him. Boromir pressed his lips into the blond Elf's, searching the depths of his hot mouth in wonderment. Maybe it was the wine whispering suggestively, but no thoughts of the ring troubled him now. Never had he experienced an Elf and the thought tantalized him. When the Lord of Gondor pulled back finally, Haldir smiled and Boromir mistook that for interest.

He learned otherwise when he found himself flat on his back with a knife to his throat. Haldir straddled his body and looked down on him with triumph and interest. "You distract easily," he chided, moving close enough that his long hair fell upon his captive's cheek. "Never assume victory until your conquest lies slain. You have lost."

Boromir rested his head against the dirt and smiled in the soft light of the forest. His hands found Haldir's thighs and began an ascent that would end upon the Elf's hips. "Lost, have I? There are other ways to conquer a man than resting your blade in his flesh." His thumbs brushed against the gray clad hipbones of his glittery-eyed foe.

Haldir's dagger pressed closer to this throat as the Elf smiled. Then suddenly the pressure was gone. The Marchwarden sheathed his weapon and stood up, leaving Boromir upon the ground. "You have lost," he repeated, cocking his head and gazing down softly. There was no arrogance in that expression, as Boromir may have looked for. "This night."

The possible implication in that last made the Lord of Gondor narrow his brow as Haldir turned and began away. He brought himself up and stared after the pretty Elf, now realizing that yes, this night he had in fact lost. A smile found his lips as the last of the Elf disappeared into the shadows. "This night, but no other." The challenge between them would be answered and he would not be denied. And he would enjoy the conquering.

When he returned to the tree Haldir was nowhere to be seen. Aragorn, however, was now well awakened and watching him. "What brings such a smug expression to your face, Ranger?" Boromir asked as he made his way to where the Fellowship made rest.

This Man that would be an Elf waved his pipe and lessened the smile spread across his lips. "It is not what you think, Boromir. Only that I am not unfamiliar with your position."

Boromir reclaimed his bedroll and exhaled deeply, leaning against the trunk of the great tree. So this Ranger had tried to conquest Haldir, had he? The Lord of Gondor crossed his arms and regarded Aragorn coolly. "And what do you perceive my position to be? How came you to this assumption?"

Aragorn darted a few glances around and moved closer almost conspiringly. "When I heard you leave, I followed. It was not my intent to pry, but I was merely concerned. Our position here is precarious. Not all people are welcomed here." Boromir nodded, a little put off that this man had dared eavesdrop on his private contest. Just how long would he have watched, he wondered. The Ranger continued. "As for your position, I know it well, Boromir. I too once shared the interest you have over the Marchwarden. He is a fair hunt."

"Once shared?" Boromir inquired.

The Ranger nodded and took a breath from his pipe, his expression somewhat disappointed. The Lord of Gondor took a measure of amusement in that fact. "It was a passing thing, but he will not be had by any Man, or so he claims. He would not come to me, nor allow I to come to him. No amount of sweet-talking would win his interest, save for a surface show that I think he means to tease with."

The red-haired man considered this, once more searching the trees for Haldir's sultry form. "So our tease does not respond to sweet words. Good, for I have no intention of using pretty phrases on him."

Aragorn's eyes grew a little wary at that and the tone it was spoken in. "Boromir, I cannot allow you to take him by force, if even such a thing were possible. Surely you do not intend that."

Boromir waved a hand and inhaled deeply. No, it would not have to come to that. He would have the Elf by his will and want, not by force. No Lord of Gondor would have to take what could be won easily. "Such is not my intent either, Aragorn. Give me some credit of honor. I am not your gentle Elves, but I have control over myself despite what others may think." He tucked a few golden-red strands behind his ear and narrowed his brow, thinking on Haldir. Thinking on how this Elf might be had. Boromir of Gondor was not one to turn down a challenge that faced him.

"My apologies," the other human offered, watching him with interest. Aragorn's expression became alight with a small smile. "When it comes to it, will you tell me of your success?"

This brought a dark reflection of that smile to Boromir's handsome features. "Does this mean I will have the sanctity of privacy when I meet Haldir next?"

By the expression on the other's face one could not be sure.

Caras Galadhon was indeed a very beautiful, very enchanting place. It was like living on a star, or what Boromir may have likened such an existance to. It seemed to have been placed here by the heavens, for how could any being of Middle-earth forge such an otherworldly city?

But Boromir had little thought to spare for it, for the deeper they came into this place, the more he could feel something in his heart that frightened him. The utter peace within these trees made him despair, for he would see his own people's hope so heightened. But what hope could the people of Gondor find? They counted on him, but in this place he saw his own flaws, saw his frailty. It lowered the Lord of Gondor nearly to tears and brought him to restless need of something he did not even know the image of.

He needed a distraction from this madness swirling around within, he decided, and almost naturally his eyes fell upon Haldir, who led the company from ahead to a place of rest. The Elf said nothing of the challenge between them, but Boromir saw the question still written in his eyes. The curiousity and amusement, the arrogance and understanding. Elves always seemed so perfect, so irritatingly flawless, but this Marchwarden was different. Blatantly an Elf, but not unlike him and in that Boromir took interest.

The Lady Galadriel had seen that, among other things within his mind when she spoke. During the greetings Haldir had taken a place to the side to await orders and there remained almost forgotten by Boromir until Galadriel's starry, all-knowing eyes fell upon his. He felt her searching through his most potent thoughts and for whatever reason, the human had turned his sight away from her and to Haldir, who watched in silence. Under that gaze he could not remain either, for he could feel himself displaying his weakness outwardly for the others to see. So Boromir had faced his fears and looked once more into the eyes of the so-called Elf-Witch. She had surely sensed something of his thoughts concerning the Marchwarden, for though she said nothing of it, her next search was directed at Haldir.

He could not imagine what living under the rule of a mind-reader would be like for so long and was glad he knew not of its like. Having so knowing a gaze on him once was enough. More than enough.

They were led to a small glade where beds had been crafted of the earth and trees, and there Haldir stopped with a soft expression. It seemed being so near the city had an effect on even his emotions. "Here you may leave your things without fear. Take rest, for your journey will be long. You may find food and other needs met if you follow that path," he said, pointing between two trees to the company's left, "and that is where you will find me for the hour to come." A glance was spared Boromir before he took a step.

"Thank you, Haldir," Aragorn offered with a bow of his head. And then the Marchwarden was gone. The Ranger turned and nodded his head in the same direction with a suggestive little smile at Boromir.

Narrowing his brow, the Son of Denethor peered at the others to see that his secret had not been told in such a gesture, but the Fellowship was too weary to take notice of anything but their belongings. The Dwarf already had unpacked his bedroll and was setting it up for use. Rest did sound seductive and banter tiring...

A little play would do him good. A lot of play would be better, of course, and after a few moments of following those thoughts through to conclusion, Boromir decided he was up to it after all. Besides, Haldir surely wanted his attention this night, if he were so wanton as to offer him even that subtle invitation.

Boromir gave Aragorn a stern look, hoping it warned against intrusion, and followed the footsteps of his prey through the trees. The path was not long, but far enough from the company of the Fellowship. He prided himself on silent feet and attempted stealth as he neared the next clearing, which was mercifully empty. There he saw earthen tables bearing fruit and a spring with a pitcher and dipping gourd. This was where Haldir sat, his fingers playing gently with the stream.

"You have much to learn of challenging Elves, Boromir of Gondor," he said into the silence, announcing he had heard the Gondorian's approach despite his skill. "I am beginning to think you wish to back down and accept defeat."

A smile wrote itself across the lips of the auburn-haired lord, who closed in enough to draw the Marchwarden to his feet. The game had begun and he felt some of his tension fade into reawakened desire. He reached for Haldir's hair and grinned when the Elf pulled away. "So wild," Boromir breathed, devouring the other with his eyes. "You are like a wild horse that dances on the edge of my want, so unwilling to be broken and yet unable to fight the need to be reigned and ridden."

Haldir's sultry lips spread into amusement as he crossed his arms before Boromir. "Is this how you see me, human?" He backed away at another attempt made for the golden glory flowing down his shoulder. "Leave my hair be."

Boromir closed in the space between them and instead made for the Marchwarden's cheek, which he allowed to be touched. "Deny you wish me to have you, Elf. Deny it and I will withdraw my challenge."

Those glinting eyes narrowed slightly at having to make such an admission, which would put the game in Boromir's favor. "Wanting and having are quite different matters, I assure you. You are interesting, in a beastly sort of way. But interest does not denote worth. What makes you worthy, Boromir? Will you promise me pleasure beyond any I have had before? Perhaps offer a life at your side, glory and other things? Will you whisper to me, telling me of my beauty and comparing me to the night sky? What shall you do to prove yourself, Boromir?"

Tracing the Elf's fair cheek with the back of his fingers, the Son of Gondor looked his conquest over with soft intent and took another step. "None of those things, Haldir. I will do none of them." The Elf raised his head, accepting this as the defeat of another foe, but Boromir had further plans. Taking the Marchwarden by surprise, he left his face and whipped his hand into the forbidden mane of this wild thing and yanked him forward. Haldir hissed at the sudden pain, but was given no leave to protest as lips were forced onto his own.

The Elf struggled as Boromir plundered his mouth, pawing his hair and finding other places to send needful hands. The kiss was hard and unrelenting, growing rougher with each blow Haldir delivered in trying to force the human away and when Boromir finally grew weary of having his body bruised, he found the Elf's wrists and forced him to the grass, pinning them above his head. Desire flooded through the Son of Denethor, filling his body with pleasureful tingling and need.

Haldir panted when his mouth was finally freed and gazed up through hazy eyes. "Wretched human," he spat, trying to lift his shoulders to no avail.

Boromir laughed lightly and grabbed a lock of the other's long tresses, bringing it to his mouth to kiss it and claim it. "Mine," he breathed, savoring the sweet scent. Those hazel eyes flitted down the body of his prey in lust. "All of it. All of you. I make no promise other than to swear you will be mine."

"You will make me yours?" Haldir seemed to plead, his chest heaving with deep, wanting breaths. Boromir closed his eyes, feeling a warm thigh part his legs to tempt him.

If anything with this Elf Boromir was not short on, it was mistakes. With the loss of vision and the weakness of need had come the opportunity Haldir had been looking for. The teasing rub of the leg on his groin turned into a shove, sending Boromir's pleasure into pain. The Marchwarden pushed the now groaning human off and dusted his clothing. "Your arrogance is what leads you to ruin, Boromir. Not only in this game between us, but in other things as well. You have lost the contest with me, but I have no desire to see you lose the one you face with yourself and that Ring."

Boromir relaxed against the ground, having all his despair of before thrown back into his face. Weary again, he looked up into the face of the Elf who watched in new seriousness. "Is the game now done?"

The Marchwarden looked away a moment, then back again. "I cannot let you win this battle, Boromir." A smile graced his features. "But you did come close." He offered a hand to help Boromir up.

Reluctantly it was taken and when the young Lord of Gondor was to his feet, he stalked by Haldir as if he were worth little interest. On a table nearby fruit beckoned with the promise of at least some form of pleasure. The Marchwarden exhaled and muttered something in Elvish, then joined him, facing the back of a chair towards Boromir and straddling it.

Taking an apple, Boromir leaned back and looked to the man seated beside him. "Why bother leading me on, then?" he asked, taking a bite and watching Haldir's eyes find his lips. The Elf noticed and quickly lifted his gaze. "Aragorn calls you a tease."

The Elf smiled wryly and reached now for Boromir's hair, letting his fingers slip through the golden-red strands. "I am not the sort Aragorn's heart seeks. He belongs with one like him, and I am not he. I tested him and he failed. If that deems me a tease, so be it."

"And you tested me," Boromir replied, wondering if the sport had truly met its best or not. He licked the juice from his lips softly and smiled inwardly at the glances given. "Did I fail, too?"

Haldir withdrew his hand and blinked with lengthy lashes that made the Son of Gondor inhale. He would have kissed those lashes into sleep, perhaps. "You could never have won."

Shaking his head and furrowing his brow, Boromir crossed his arms and looked this piece of work over. "Again I ask, why lead me on?"

A small wind sailed through the trees as the Marchwarden looked him over with a smile. "Because wanting and having are two different things." He reached out again and this time was caught by Boromir's own hand.

The human gripped Haldir's wrist tightly and said low, "And again, by your own words, I make this promise. You will be mine." He tossed the hand back to the now unamused Elf. "You make the admission by your own tongue and that tongue I will claim. Whatever you fear will melt away and you will forget yourself and give in. I swear it."

"We shall see," Haldir replied, standing now with a firm resolve in his blue eyes. He nodded his head once to bid Boromir farewell, but a presense in the glade halted both men in their thoughts.

With a grace so silent she may have been floating came Galadriel with soft, knowing eyes that made Boromir nervous once more.

Do not be troubled, her voice sounded in his head, so fair and so gentle. Her gaze pierced all his shields once more, then flitted to the Marchwarden, who bowed in the presense of his queen. "Haldir, I came to speak with you. I have need. Should I ask of you, will you serve me?"

Haldir nodded once and replied reverently, "With my life, Lady. You must know this."

The Lady of Light neared the Marchwarden and Boromir sat up, curious about what she would ask, but conscious this may not be for his ears. "If you will excuse me," he began politely, feeling the need to not win her vexation, but trailed off when she lifted a hand.

"Nay, Boromir of Gondor. Stay, for this concerns you." Her eyes never left the face of Haldir as she spoke. "I had to be sure, Haldir, for what I will ask of you will be perilous, but I and my husband have spoken and we both deem it wise."

Haldir shook his head and said, "You have only to tell me this errand and I will see to it, My Lady. My trust has ever been in your wisdom." This was true dedication from the lips of Haldir and for a brief moment Boromir entertained she may be the reason he would never win.

His heart is mine, she spoke into his mind, while still speaking to Haldir in appreciation of his service and skill. But not in the way that you think, Son of Man. "You have guarded Lorien well, Marchwarden and have the respect of your people." Boromir swallowed at the words coming from her mouth, forgetting his momentary thoughts of jealousy. Was she sending Haldir to his doom? I send him away in one way or another.

"My thanks," Haldir replied with a soft smile as he again bowed his head. "How shall I serve?"

At this, Galadriel let her eyes slide once again to the curious Gondorian still hovering on the edge of leaving his chair. "Mithrandir is gone," she began in her ageless voice, sorrow falling down her shoulders like the golden river of hair he could see. She turned her gaze back to the Marchwarden. "The Fellowship is in danger, but there is hope. Therefore I would send you, Haldir, to replace he who is missing. It is a dangerous task, but you are skilled and they have need. Will you serve?"

The male Elf swallowed and Boromir perhaps thought him afraid of this task, but a glance betrayed that was not what the trouble was. They shared eye contact that told him they were speaking within their thoughts and he watched the surprise calm down into an almost reluctant acceptance. Finally, Haldir replied, "I will."

The Lady of the Wood searched the eyes of her servant, then turned without another word spoken. As silently as she had come, so she left, offering one more glance at Boromir with a command he wasn't quite sure what to make of. He turned his eyes on Haldir as she disappeared into the trees. The Elf watched her go with a puzzled expression. "It seems I have been gifted more time to win our contest," he commented, grinning pleasantly at the annoyed expression Haldir gave him.

"This changes nothing, human! You have lost the battle," he shot with a glare, stalking away after his lady.

Boromir again bit into his apple and smiled contentedly, his cares again seeming lighter than before. He had lost the battle, but luck was with him in the coming war.

An elbow to the stomach does not lighten one's spirits, but in this case neither did it dampen Boromir's. The Lord of Gondor merely chuckled and kept at what he was doing, knowing Haldir would say nothing. He liked Galadriel, he decided, reflecting on her pretty smile and those starry eyes so full of wisdom and mischief as she directed Haldir and Boromir to the same boat. What she had in mind or why she would care about such a thing as their game, Boromir did not know, but was thankful he stood in her favor in this.

Together they sat now in close, cramped quarters on this small boat, traveling the waters of the Great River away from Lorien, one thoroughly amused and the other quite irritated. Thank the Valar for small mercies, for their vessel was last in line and that fact gave the Gondorian leave to play a little in secret.

He was feeling much refreshed now that they were on the quest again. His cares had little leave to trouble him with this vision of beauty sitting before him, hands occupied by oars. The temptations were numerous in the possibilities offered, for there was little the Elf could do to deter Boromir's attentions. And he would say nothing, for not far before them was the boat bearing Legolas and Gimli and without doubt the Wood Elf would hear any utterance the Marchwarden made. Presumably that bothered Haldir, for through several 'accidental' touches and some blatantly obvious, he continued to stay silent, offering protests through physical contact.

Boromir laid his hand on the hip of Haldir and gave a suggestive little rub, knowing full well what it would do to him. Over the course of the past hour he had learned Haldir's most sensually favored places--hips, the back of his neck and what little Boromir could reach of his thigh. Each place when touched elicited some form of aggravated movement and sometimes this vision of beauty's struggle with anger moved the human to mercy, to his credit. There were short periods of rest where he neither touched nor teased the Marchwarden. Yet inevitably and regrettably so, Boromir could not keep his hands to himself in the end.

The Elf's huntwear was entirely too thick, he noticed and sighed as he pet the man in front of him with no hint of irritation on the other's behalf. That was another thing he noticed. Haldir wasn't always quick to protest and perhaps that above all was what kept Boromir playing. Oh, would that he could be touching the flesh of his side bare, but the Marchwarden had taken care to be seated on his tunic to prevent it from being raised, as if he had foreseen such a need.

But when Boromir finally did uncover this man and savor him, he held little doubt it would be worth the wait. Temptations to whisper sensual promises met his lips every so often, but he respected Haldir's want of privacy and said nothing. Besides, what better way to convey his intent than this? The Gondorian leaned close against the back of the Marchwarden and breathed the scent of his hair, then moved close to kiss those beckoning strands.

Haldir pulled away and let go of an oar just long enough to slam his fist into Boromir's unsuspecting hand still petting a warmly clad hip. "Do you mind, you filthy human?" he hissed, taking up his rowing again.

Boromir caught sight of Legolas turning his head just enough for a curious glance back at the fighting duo. What would the Wood Elf assume? Would he defend Haldir's honor if the Marchwarden spoke against him? "My apologies," he replied in a husky tone, unable to contain his winsome mood despite even that threat. "The boat is small. I do not mean to intrude."

The Elf grunted and yanked his oar back, then shoved it forward again roughly. In a lowered voice, he muttered so softly Boromir scarcely heard it, "You just wait."

Grinning, the Man slid his hand up the green cloak Haldir wore and pressed his hand against a strong back beneath, kneading and massaging. "What was that, Elf?" He chuckled when the only reply offered was a frustrated sigh. Still, he decided to let up on his conquest. One thing he did not want to do was aggravate the other into hatred. His last move was to draw Haldir's golden mane away from one shoulder and gather it to the other side, and only then did Boromir give up and lean back on his hands. "Speak to me, Haldir," he breathed, tracing the Elf's neckline with half-lidded, hazel eyes.

"Of what would you have me speak?" Haldir replied in a curt tone. "Must I do all the rowing and entertain you now as well?"

This would never do. Ever since his Lady's unsuspected announcement Haldir had been very cool towards him and seemingly disinterested, but instead of taking that as defeat Boromir had thought this a sign he was closer than ever to the victory. It wasn't mere disinterest the Marchwarden displayed. He was skittish like a cat trapped in a corner, nervous he would be bested. That was what kept Boromir trying and what made him want to calm the creature he had cornered. He leaned against the Elf and gently clasped the other's hands on the oars, whispering softly, "I will row."

Haldir's hands seemed to tremble beneath the hold and his retreat was slow as he allowed the Man to take up the work. Still, he remained silent and that bothered Boromir. Perhaps, he thought, he had gone too far. "Must you hate me so?" he asked, groaning with a pull of the oars.

The Elf let out an exhale of his own and turned his head slightly to look back. His expression was weary, but bore no resentment and that encouraged the Lord of Gondor. "I do not hate you, Boromir. Forgive my harsh tone. I merely..." He stopped and faced front again, his movement speaking images of eyes that surveyed their dimming surroundings.

"Have no worry, Marchwarden. All is forgiven." A smile spread across his lips at the other's grunt.

Still, Haldir made no biting remark and offered a return of that expression when he looked back. "Arrogant," he accused lightly, shaking his head and causing those blonde strands of starlight to shiver. "Arrogant and prideful, even when making amends. You would place the blame solely on my own shoulders, would you not? I should bind you to this boat and let you sail thus through course waters until you learn some manners."

Boromir laughed at that and yanked the oars back again. "I am sorry if I have offended you. You may bind me if you wish, though I would prefer it to be elsewhere than this canoe, if you would spare me such care. I have no desire to see the bottom of the falls in such a manner. Do you forgive me?"

The Marchwarden swept his hair back and leaned on his hands, replying quite seriously, "Not yet, Boromir." At the Gondorian's intake of breath, he added, "I will forgive you. Worry not of that. Elves are very a forgiving people. But I will need time. Be sure to mind your manners, Boromir, or it will take longer."

A strange response, but to him Elves were a myriad of oddity. "So be it," he answered, furrowing his brow and looking at the water ahead.

But there was little time for him to ponder the reasons why forgiveness could not be given right away. From ahead Aragorn called, "We will halt for the night."

The boats were directed by the Ranger to a small shore nearby and Haldir left him to the duty of seeing their canoe secured, wandering off in the fading light to where Aragorn worked the same task. Boromir followed him with curious eyes, watching the Marchwarden and Ranger speak and wondering what their traded words would be about.

Something else caught his attention, however, before he could concentrate enough on their body language to form an opinion. Walking from Aragorn's canoe was Frodo and without thinking, Boromir's eyes left Haldir. The little Hobbit walked unassumingly with his loyal servant in his shadow and the expression written in his blue eyes was ever the same as it had been since Gandalf's departure. The Lord of Gondor's mind wandered between two things that held him captive with powerful hands and he wanted to heed the wisdom of Aragorn, but he could not shake the call of the Ring easily. It spoke to him constantly in a voice that had no tangible sound, always reminding him that his people were in a state of hopelessness and with this small token he could mend the wounds.

He knew the others watched him and possibly thought him a threat. They made him feel almost wrong for wanting to do what he thought best for Gondor, but could they not see who he truly was? He was no power mongering evil. Was it counted a sin to want to turn this war around? They sat protected in their homes in trees, or beneath their mountains or in their Shire, but he faced the evils of Mordor up close, every day and had since his ability to wield a sword. He saw the bodies of children that had wandered too far east. The visions of warriors mangled by Orcs were his to cherish. He hated Sauron and all of his mad servants, he hated Mordor and its perils and he hated being held back from conquering this evil. Take the Ring. That was all he had to do. Reach out, take it and end this terrible war.

Boromir let out a shuddering breath and tore his eyes away from the Hobbit, feeling himself becoming too restless. Such impetuous feelings took away from one's ability to think things through logically. There was a reason they wanted this quest done in this fashion. Elrond and Galadriel both were reputed to be wise and both spoke against using the Ring, and Gandalf made no arguments to that either. There was a reason to wait. A good, wise reason and Boromir would heed to it. It was no hard labor to wait. He would not let his despair control him.

Standing from the canoe and now thinking a little more clearly, he blinked once and looked back to the other phantom of his thoughts. Both Haldir and Aragorn were watching him, both weighing his expression with wary eyes. Somehow he felt he had disappointed them. The Marchwarden closed his long lashes upon his cheeks, his hair moving fairly with the wind, and whispered something to Aragorn in that cursedly unknown to Boromir tongue of his. The Ranger shook his head and replied something in earnest, then Haldir looked up again gravely.

Something in Boromir did not take well to being under such scrutiny. He had done nothing but lost himself to thought. Was he not a Lord of Gondor? Did he not act honorably at all times? Such insults to his character grieved his heart and stirred him to temper against Elves, for it was they that distrusted humans. It was they that had raised Aragorn against his own kind. It was by their counsel he could not do what he thought to be right for his people. Boromir glowered and turned, stalking off into the forest that surrounded the shore. Let them judge. He knew his own motives and trusted them to be forged by only the highest of integrity. He was a Son of Gondor and no less than that should be expected.

In his walking it was not long before his solace of solitude was intruded upon. Lost somewhere within the forest, for he had not been watching his way, Boromir stopped and put a hand to his sword. "Be at peace," called a voice, that belonging to Haldir. He came from behind, fading in from the shadows with concern glinting back from his blue eyes. Boromir let his sword go and crossed his arms, waiting for an arrogant remark. "You stand rigid. You are angry." The Marchwarden circled him gracefully, looking soft in the moonlight. "Boromir, in your pride you would turn away our concern which may be the only thing that saves you. Do not..."

"Concern?" Boromir cut in, trying not to watch the other's beauty too closely. He wanted to be angry and offended, he wanted to be separate from the others... It was the Ring that wanted this for him, but for all his heart he could not see it. "You needn't be. You all needn't fear me so. I am no common thief, nor would I do anything that was not in the best interest of this Fellowship. Yet you all watch me and doubt me until I begin even to doubt myself, and you..."

Haldir frowned and would have none of this speech. Fingers pressed into Boromir's lips, stopping his talk quickly and blue met hazel with firm command. "You speak these things from your own heart, not from any proof that we have such opinions. Quiet your mind. Do not let yourself be troubled so. I come not as an enemy or a judge. Do not let your arrogance blind you from the truth."

Boromir narrowed his brow and pushed the tempting fingers from his mouth. "You are full of many commands, you self-righteous..."

The hand met his lips again and Haldir shook his head with a long-suffering sigh. "You already have one penalty to pay to win my forgiveness. Will you indebt yourself to another?"

He was given no time to react. Boromir fell to the ground hard when the Marchwarden tripped him and quickly found the other straddling his lap with suddenly impassioned eyes. A milky pale hand rubbed through the hair on his face wantingly and Boromir felt his body responding to Haldir's touch. But his anger was no less. "Your forgiveness? Take yourself up from me, Elf!" he demanded, trying to block soothing hands away from him.

Haldir looked down in amusement, his eyes thoughtful and playful. "I seem to recall trying to convey that self same message to you, proud and fair Lord of Gondor. Let us see how well you take to having your wishes denied you." Hands slammed his wrists to the dirt and a hot mouth sealed itself to his as Haldir took full advantage of having the upper hand. "What you did to me in that boat was cruel. Now I shall repay in kind. You have not tasted my passion fully loosed yet," he hissed fervently, his lips seeking and taking wherever he would have.

"Get off of me," Boromir again breathed, though he could feel his vexation transforming into something else. With a growl of frustration at his inability to control his wants he shoved Haldir and rolled over in an attempt to get away.

But the Elf only laughed and moved to his feet, pouncing before Boromir could get away. The Lord of Gondor fell to the dirt beneath the other's weight and groaned at hands pawing through his auburn hair. Haldir straddled his back, holding his arms down with legs bearing his complete weight and brought his mouth close to the Gondorian's ear. "Did you not think I wanted you to win? Boromir, I had reasons which surpassed even those holding me back from taking Aragorn. Yet you torment in my agony and for reasons unknown my Queen has abandoned me to this." A tongue flicked over Boromir's ear, tasting the round shape as if that tongue took delight in the sensation it found. Boromir was actually liking this, he discovered, to his irritation.

Yet he would not be mocked this way. Beneath Haldir Boromir struggled, but found himself trapped in an iron hold and the Elf did nothing but continue to stir his arousal. "You say you have reasons and I say hold true to them, for you will not find me a willing partner."

Haldir paused and that was all he needed. The moment of weakness had come and Boromir wrenched himself away, watching the Marchwarden tumble to the earth. He got to his feet straightened his clothes, but would not run. He would not flee any Elf as if he could not hold his own. Haldir looked up breathlessly, his platinum hair in pleasing disarray, as he said, "Do you not want me, Boromir?"

"Aye," he answered truthfully, brushing a hand over his chin and pacing a few steps as he glared half-heartedly down. "But..."

The sudden loss of balance and the rushing impact to the ground made Boromir groan in dizziness and pain as the other lay over him again and found the buckle to his belt. "By your own lips you confess," Haldir whispered in triumph, seeking through layers of clothing until Boromir felt a hand rest on his bare stomach. "Forget your pride and give in to what you want."

As fingers traced the rim of his leggings Boromir found himself wanting to do just that beneath Haldir's heated gaze. He lay still, allowing sensation to ease away the last of the Ring's hold. A smile found his lips as he reached for the other's hair. Haldir's face reflected that in anticipation. It was the perfect opportunity.

Boromir took it and threw himself into the Elf, wrapping him in a cage of arms as he forced him to his back and began raining kisses onto his fair face. A dark little laugh came from the Marchwarden, who allowed him for the time being to enjoy his dominance, but Boromir was no fool. He could hear the intent behind such a laugh and knew it was only a matter of time before Haldir made his move to capture his human game. Well, they would have to see about that.

He had waited far too long for this, he decided, though a few days was but a moment to the man beneath him. Boromir found the bottom of Haldir's tunic and traveled up into the fabric, smoothing over warm flesh to cup on side of his chest. The Gondorian brushed heated fingers over the Marchwarden's nipple and smiled at the look of pleasure on the other's face. Haldir responded enthusiastically, his hands searching desperately for a way to open Boromir's pants. Boromir shook his head and wrapped his fingers around Haldir's wrist, finding the other and forcing his hands up and pinning them to the earth. "Slowly, Marchwarden. Slowly," he breathed huskily, meeting the other's mouth with the want of his own.

Boromir asked entrance and Haldir allowed it, opening his lips to the call of a slick tongue. The sweetness of the other's mouth caused the human to groan as he thrust his tongue into the heat, tasting and savoring the Elf's kiss as his free hand kneaded and groped beneath Haldir's tunic. All anger forgotten, Boromir was now thoroughly aroused and ready to forgive and be forgiven. But this would be handled with skill rather than giving in to the need for release. Stroking a hardened nipple the Gondorian had every intention of taking things slow, tormenting his lover with pleasure and enjoying every sensation lingeringly, but he was not fairing well in the idea of waiting.

Haldir had other plans. Though pinned in submission, the Elf would not give up trying to incite more active play and kicked Boromir's legs apart, quickly filling the space between his thighs with his own that he could rub and tease the human's growing erection. "Give me more, Boromir," he pleaded into a still searching mouth, struggling to get his wrists free.

"More?" he whispered against Haldir's lips, then offered a kiss as he freed one hand and ran it down the length of the Elf's arm, side, hip and finally to the thigh stroking his arousal. With a decidedly wicked little laugh Boromir shoved the leg down and apart from the other, then met Haldir's own desire with a seeking hand. "How easily do Elves give over to pleasure?" he mused, rubbing over the Marchwarden's hunting pants. The need within that strained fabric could plainly be felt.

The Marchwarden threw his head back quite prettily and Boromir took things a step further, seeking and hunting until he found the rim of the other's leggings. He gripped the pants, jerking and yanking, until they were pulled to Haldir's mid thigh, baring him before the human's eyes. But he did not touch him. Contenting himself to visual exploration of the flesh he would in no time capture with fervor, Boromir let the Elf suffer with need until finally Haldir asked in a smart tone, "You have seen the parts of a male before, have you not?"

The Lord of Gondor grinned and met demanding blue eyes. "Of course. I am merely enjoying the beautiful sight of a half-bare Elf in need of my touch."

"Hmm. Really," Haldir mused. "For a moment I despaired, thinking you uncertain of what to do."

With that one free hand Boromir pushed the other's tunic up gently until his stomach was shown and began a slow, soft rubbing just above his conquest's need. "On the contrary, I know exactly what to do," he whispered, leaning into Haldir's face with a soft kiss. He could feel the Elf shaking as his hand made the descent and found his erection. The fondling was slow and sensual, teasing and Haldir writhed in need for more, trying to urge Boromir into faster movements. But the Lord of Gondor would not be swayed.

So the Elf took more desperate measures and took advantage of Boromir's attention to skill, yanking his arms free. "I need you now, Boromir," he hissed, finding the other's pants and pulling them down urgently. "Take me now."

The Gondorian was given no time to reply as a hand traveled through his hair, jerking him down to a crushing kiss and he felt his own need storming through his system. The explicit desire between them had built enough for him to go along with such a demand. The hand now rubbing at his groin stirred him into echoing such need.

Boromir forsook the lips of his lover to pull his leggings all the way off, kissing and tasting Haldir's long legs the journey down and up, then snaked his arm beneath the Elf's neck to brace him into unstoppable kisses. The heat between them was intense and the Gondorian found himself growing impatient with want. He could wait no longer and began seeking of his own erection to the liquid he was leaking in his need, covering his length for the entry. Then, snaking an arm beneath Haldir to give support to his waist, Boromir grinned into those hungry lips that bit at his and took his place between two pale, granite thighs. Haldir arched and groaned throatily as Boromir penetrated his waiting entrance slowly, savoring the union and causing the Elf torment.

When Haldir could think straight he peered up through desire filled eyes that gave the Gondorian sudden need to surge forward, winning a cry from the man beneath him. The Marchwarden arched again and grasped through the dirt and on up Boromir's hip, urging his companion down again before he could raise himself fully. "Shh, my Elf. Slowly."

"Fiend," Haldir hissed when his arm was thrown back to the ground and held. Boromir looked down on his fair conquest and felt compelled to run his hand down the other's face. Like a feline Haldir met that hand and rewarded his palm with a kiss before returning the caress. Boromir rubbed his cheek across the Elf's hand in kind and groaned when that touch became fierce. The Marchwarden crawled his fingers through auburn hair and pulled, need more of his lover's taste. It was a kiss Boromir wholly returned.

Haldir traveled down the length of his hair, seeking and finding the nape of the Man's neck to touch, sending little shivers through him as he moved over and within the moaning Elf. The sounds of Haldir and the sensation of this entire experience burned within him as an all-consuming fire. He knew not where this would lead either of them, nor if it would come again even, but it would be savored and cherished. This was no victory over Haldir as he may have strove for in the beginning of this game, or if it were, it was joined with a victory over him. And it did not shame him to think so.

Boromir pulled his lips from Haldir's and laid small kisses upon the Elf's smooth cheek down into his golden mane. It was soft to the touch, painted with dark specks of dirt and seemed to reflect the starlight. "Mine," he breathed into it, inhaling its woodsy scent as Haldir moved with him.

A hand tracing unknown patterns upon his naked skin increased his desire and with the knowledge that both he and the Elf were panting and groping towards bliss, Boromir cradled his arm beneath Haldir's neck and nuzzled against the soft skin there as he held the warrior-Elf down, forcing him to accept the slow pace. It tormented and vexed him to no end, but he would not give in to the want of a sudden finish. The pleasure ached, but inevitably would be more encompassing if waited for.

And it was. Haldir writhed beneath him, but was given no mercy until at last he was driven beyond the threshold of desire. When the Elf moaned and shuddered uncontrollably Boromir stopped holding him down and drank in every sound, movement and breath until he too could not contain himself. With a sudden jerk and a deep groan the Man filled his Elven companion with his seed and was quickly accepted into an embrace he was barely coherent enough to acknowledge beyond his own need to mold into the strong body below.

It was sweet insanity, now that he could awaken his senses to understand what had happened. The Fellowship was so near and the quest's true danger suddenly hit him as he rested his head against Haldir's shoulder. They could walk from this and find death at any moment. This was something he did not want to lose. Something he could not lose. "This is wrong," he breathed and gazed out at the greenery surrounding.

Haldir's pawing hand upon his head paused. "I beg your pardon?"

Boromir drew himself up and looked down through softened eyes. "Return to the Golden Wood where you belong. I know not how many years you have seen, but you belong there. Not on this...this...dark mission."

This drew a sultry smile from the satiated Elf below. Haldir reached for him again, touching his facial hair in absent fascination. "Do you care for me, Boromir of Gondor? Nothing you could say would ever cause me to abandon what my Lady bid of me to do, but...the thought that you care is flattering."

The young Gondorian narrowed his brow and kissed Haldir's wrist, muttering, "Flattering. Only you would allow such a thing to pass your lips after what I have given."

Haldir laughed lightly. "What you have given? And was it not you that swore to claim me?"

"You bewitched me," Boromir replied in a light-mannered accusation. He found Haldir's hair to touch. "You know what I feel."

The other's eyes grew serious and Boromir sighed at the beauty of those lids. Indeed he had been bewitched by some Elvish sorcery. "I am no mind-reader, as you may think, Boromir. I know not all that lies within your heart. I can but guess." He let out a breath as clear and soft as the Heavens. "Boromir...when I see you pass the test you will face, then I shall know what you feel. Not before. Now let us lay in quiet." His head was drawn down again. "The Ranger has finally left us to our privacy."

Boromir lifted his head. "What?"



tbc...