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.
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