Title: Forget, For A While, Your Grief
Author: AndreaLyn, AndreaLyn333@yahoo.com
Pairing(s): Aragorn/Boromir
Rating: R
Summary: Aragorn wills Boromir to let everything go. 
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me; I'm
just borrowing.
Authors Note: Based on the movie canon; Fellowship of
the Ring spoilers 
--
It was in Lothlorien that Boromir realized just what
it was he felt towards Aragorn. There were many
emotions amongst the mix, but he was nearly horrified
to find that adoration and genuine love seemed to
dominate the jealousy and the mistrust.

He wanted this man by his side; he desired the touch
of this man on his own skin, and somewhere, it
horrified him. Yet, he was far more excited and
aroused by the thought of Aragorn's hands on his body.


It scared him.

The little ones were always in contact with each
other, touching hands, and smiling hugs. He was always
rather jealous at their ability to merely touch each
other and not earn a second look from anyone.
--
Aragorn was awake at night. He could not sleep without
the plague of nightmares befalling him. His eyes
opened, and he focused his vision on the sight nearby.
Boromir had not moved, and was sitting in the ethereal
light, face troubled. 

He stirred, and moved beside the man, hanging his
head. "I do not suppose you would sleep? We all need
rest."

Boromir didn't move, merely gave a sigh. "I cannot
forget the words that were spoken in my mind. Aragorn,
I am bound to fail…Gondor will fall and…"

"No." Aragorn attempted to lift his hand and cut off
the man's speech, but it did nothing to help and
Boromir was getting more hysterical and panicked by
the second. 

"And I will have let down my father's kingdom. Let
down the race of men! How can you not see this is what
I will do?" Boromir continued and Aragorn had to stop
him before he woke the others. With a quick glance
around, Aragorn made sure no one was watching them,
and he took Boromir and with his hands, tilted his
head so that they were looking each other in the eye.
Aragorn kissed him then, to stop the words, and soothe
his doubts.

Boromir's eyes went wide as he realized exactly what
was happening. Aragorn backed away, and studied his
face. 

"I wish you wouldn't panic." Aragorn spoke after a
moment of silence, as Boromir merely stared at
Aragorn. 

"You…"

"Kissed you, yes. If you are offended in any way, I
apologize. It was the only thing I could think of to
quiet you." Aragorn spoke with a nod, as though this
was the only solution. Boromir felt heated, and
aroused. This was no dream.

"How can you think that this is not truth?" Boromir
struggled to find words, and gazed into Aragorn's
eyes. How he wanted this man. 

"Boromir, you are a good man. You fight bravely
alongside the Fellowship." Aragorn's voice was rough,
and low. "Do not doubt your strength."
--
It was the second night in Lothlorien when Aragorn
awoke to the ghostly feel of fingertips lightly
grazing over his skin. His eyes opened slightly to
find a figure beside him.

"I only ask that you let me have this. Only once."
Boromir whispered and skin was touching skin, and all
else in the world faded in their minds. The hobbits
were off together somewhere no doubt. Perhaps they
would be found in sleep. Aragorn could see it in his
mind. Merry would cradle Pippin as he did outside
Moria, and Sam would protectively keep Frodo safe.
Legolas and Gimli were off telling tales of their past
adventures. 

That left him and Boromir, and he could feel Boromir's
lips traveling his skin. He nodded. "Yes, Boromir." He
needed a release. Aragorn's emotions were reaching a
heightened state, where nothing mattered but the
feelings that pulsed throughout his body at that very
moment.

"Thank you," Boromir whispered, and closed his eyes as
he kissed Aragorn on the lips, and the two men
searched for release in the other.
--
The day they left Lothlorien, Boromir caught the look
in Aragorn's eyes, and felt the impact of the guilt he
found there. Aragorn did not want to remember that
night, did not want to remember the feel of his touch.

"Aragorn, I…" Boromir began in vain, desperately
trying to explain.

"Stop," Aragorn commanded. "You shall take Merry and
Pippin, and we will be off. Do not focus on the past."

Boromir stood frozen in place, with a nod, as Aragorn
moved off to secure the boats Galadriel had provided
them with. He watched the sure steps of the man he
still so greatly desired, and felt a heavy weight
inside him that was bound to keep him down for the
rest of the day.
--
It was that moment that Boromir understood what he had
felt towards Aragorn; what he and Aragorn had done
during their quest was more than heightened emotions.
That moment when the third arrow pierced his chest was
it.

It was that painful realization that he had lost.
There would be no trying to prove himself to his king
now; he could not apologize now, or make his case. He
had failed. Gondor would fall. And that hurt him more
than the physical pain of the wound.

'My brother. My captain. My king." Boromir gazed
upwards at Aragorn with nothing short of sheer
adoration in her eyes. His breath was stolen from his
lungs before he could utter his last words.

'My love.' And then it went black.

Aragorn looked upon the face of a man he hated…no, he
loved. He never understood what he felt for this man,
who lay beneath him, gone. They shared a common bond,
something to fight for. They represented the race of
men in the fellowship. 

He shut his eyes, as he worked to find a way to
distinguish exactly what he was feeling. Boromir. This
man, he brought everything out of Aragorn. And Aragorn
had silenced his speech earlier that day. Perhaps,
this could have been prevented? A simple speech, but
what good could come of it?

Did he love Boromir? No. Did he hate the man? No.
Aragorn did not understand anything about his feelings
towards the man beneath him. Aragorn kissed his
forehead once more to ensure that this was indeed
reality, and it was. Boromir did not wake with a
smile; his skin was cold, and blood seeped out of the
man's chest. 

"I will not fail," Aragorn swore to the man, as he
slowly took off the armour that guarded Boromir's
wrists, and held them in his own hands. 'Boromir,'
Aragorn thought to himself, 'I will never forget, and
I will not fail.' 

But there was no time to stop, no time to properly
grieve. And within that day, Aragorn watched the river
claim the man he felt a thousand emotions for. 

THE END