Title: Under the Evening Sky (1/?) 
Author: Guanín 
E-mail: guanin@buffysdomain.com 
Disclaimer: Not mine. 
Summary: Boromir has developed an obsession for Legolas. 
Rating: R, maybe, I'm not sure. Will be NC-17 soon though. 
Archive: Sure, just ask. 
Feedback: Please, I need it to survive. 
 
'He's looking at me again,' thought Legolas as the group climbed  
up the rocky slope. 'He has been doing so all day.'  
 
He dared a quick look behind him and caught a glimpse of fiery  
hair and equally tempered eyes before he turned his head back. The  
intensity with which those eyes looked at him sent a shiver through  
his spine. Unconsciously, he accelerated his pace and moved towards  
the head of the group near Gandalf. The increase in distance and  
bodies between them eased the tension in his shoulders somewhat, but  
the knowledge of Boromir's unexpected interest in him troubled his  
mind. After their departure from Rivendell, the man hadn't given the  
elf any more notice than he gave any of the other members of the  
company, but for the past few days his manner towards him changed. He  
subtly sought to stay close to Legolas at times only to retreat and  
shun him at others. He wasn't so obvious about his staring that the  
others took notice but Legolas could still feel it burning into him,  
as if it wanted to reach into his soul and discover his secrets. The  
elf, unsure what to think about this sudden change in behavior from  
his companion and a little unnerved by it, tried to keep away from  
him. Neither observer or observed attempted to initiate any form of  
communication in which the growing tension might be resolved.  
 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
Night fell once again upon the land and the moon cast its pale  
light over the lush vegetation and the creatures who slept among it.  
However, not all of them were able to find rest. Legolas lied still  
on his mat, eyes open, pretending to slumber, but his mind was too  
uneasy to repose. Slowly, he turned his head to see Gimli sitting at  
the opposite side of the camp at his post as lookout, his back  
towards him.  
 
Legolas, moving with all the grace of his people, got up and  
silently crept away. His light steps made no sound on the forest  
floor. He walked until he reached a small river which he had spied  
earlier on their wanderings. He stood immobile for a few moments on  
the leaf strewn bank then crouched and dipped the tips of his fingers  
into the cool water. Leisurely, he immersed his whole hand and left  
it there for a minute, feeling the slight current on his skin. He  
straightened and with measured movements removed his all of his  
clothing, leaving them in an unorganized heap on the floor. He  
threaded his fingers through his hair and undid his braids, allowing  
the long strands to fall loose at the sides of his face. He entered  
the translucent water and moved lethargically to the middle of the  
stream. The refreshing liquid rose to his stomach. Legolas tilted  
back, closed his eyes, and let his body float with its natural  
buoyancy. The calming waters soothed his limbs, driving the pressure  
and strain from the past days from his weary mind. Laying on his  
makeshift bed, he became one with nature and for a while found rest.  
 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Boromir observed mesmerized from behind the trees. To him the  
sight of the naked elf floating on the stream was a vision snatched  
from his fondest dreams. Long, lithe limbs, unmarred, pale skin which  
glistened with pearl drops of water, each reflecting the moon's  
light. His silky, blonde mane drifted at the sides of his fine, elven  
face, imbued with youth that never faded. He was perfection; beauty  
incarnate.  
 
Boromir moved his body to take a closer look and accidentally  
crushed a twig under his foot. Legolas, completely attuned to his  
surroundings, heard. Startled from his reverie, he opened his eyes  
and quickly submerged his body, hiding it from view. The relaxation  
achieved moments earlier was replaced by the familiar tension. He  
searched through the foliage surrounding him, at first glance seeing  
nothing, but later caught a glimpse of the human's leather vest. His  
dark eyes widened.  
 
"Boromir," he said in a surprised tone.  
 
Boromir stepped forward onto the bank.  
 
"It's me, elf." 
 
Legolas frowned and spoke accusingly. 
 
"You followed me." 
 
Boromir spoke casually, a small smile on his face. 
 
"If one's companion sneaks off in the middle of the night, it  
can look very suspicious. I had to make sure you weren't getting into  
trouble."  
 
" What I do on my own time does not concern you. Now could you  
please leave so I can have some privacy?" 
 
Boromir didn't hear the last sentence, too captivated by the  
nude body before him. Legolas noticed his distraction and followed  
his gaze below the surface of the water. He gasped as he realized  
that with the clearness of the water Boromir could see every bit of  
him. He sank until the water lapped at his jaw and tried to cover his  
exposed skin with his arms. Looking anywhere but at Boromir, he  
spoke, trying to keep the embarrassment out of his voice.  
 
"Boromir, could you please go so I can get dressed?" 
 
Boromir looked down at the pile of clothes on the floor beside  
him. He smiled mischievously. 
 
"Why? Are you afraid something might happen? Something you might  
regret? Or maybe, something that you have been wanting but haven't  
dared to ask for?" 
 
The last was said in a seductive whisper.  
 
Legolas shivered at the implication behind the words. He  
glanced up and saw Boromir bend to pick up his discarded shirt and  
brought it to his nose, taking a whiff of the elf's sweet scent.  
 
"So rich, such a spicy aroma, like the woods from where he  
comes," he muttered, the desire in his voice undeniable. 
 
He lifted his gaze to the blonde, whose gaze had retreated to  
the waters once again. 
 
"Boromir," his voice quivering slightly even as he tried to keep  
it steady. "Please." 
 
Boromir looked dazed for a moment but quickly regained his  
composure.  
 
"As you wish," he said, dropping the shirt to the floor and  
turning back from where he came.  
 
After the sounds of Boromir's footsteps were extinguished,  
Legolas let out a long, pent up breath. He slowly emerged from the  
water and, without bothering to dry himself off, he put on his  
clothes. Still shaken, he tried to analyze what had just occurred.  
Boromir wanted him. It was obvious in every glance, every move the  
man made. His last words only confirmed the suspicion that had been  
growing in Legolas's mind. Deep down, he had already known, but the  
knowledge had been denied, could it be in fear of the feelings that  
might surface because of it? 
 
'Are you afraid something might happen... something that you have  
been wanting but haven't dared to ask for?' 
 
Boromir's words resounded through his mind and he realized that  
there might be more than a little truth to them.


Title: Under the Evening Sky (2/?) 
Author: Guanín 
E-mail: guanin@buffysdomain.com 
Disclaimer: Not mine. 
Summary: Boromir has developed an obsession for Legolas. 
Rating: NC-17  
Archive: Sure, just ask. 
Feedback: Please, I need it to survive. 
Author's Notes: Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the wonderful  
feedback! I really appreciate it. 
 
 
The next day not a word was spoken about what had occurred that  
night. Legolas couldn't bring himself to look upon Boromir, feeling  
shame for how the man had been able to get under his skin. He tried  
to tell himself that Boromir's impudence was the only reason for his  
feeling like this, but he could no longer deny the growing hold that  
this man had on him. The way he gazed at him with such unmitigated  
longing sent shivers of exhilaration through my body. The manner in  
which he had inhaled the scent that lingered on his clothing,  
absorbing not only that remnant of his essence but the whole of his  
being.  
 
Yet this man was a mystery to him. Heir to Denethor, Lord of the  
Tower of Guard, he was both strong and courageous, having to defend  
his people from the ominous forces of Mordor. But could he be  
trusted? At the council he was awed by the power of the ring and  
foolishly insisted that they hand it to him to use it against Sauron.  
Nonetheless, he volunteered to aid in the destruction of the ring.  
There had been no further incident entailing him and the ring,  
leading Legolas to believe that the danger had passed. But Boromir  
was a man, the weakness still lied beneath his skin, and was it not  
because of men that they were in this predicament?  
 
Legolas shook his head at such thoughts. Making hasty judgments  
without giving him the benefit of the doubt would do more harm than  
good. He would trust Boromir, for good or ill, although his heart  
rather than his mind made that decision for him.  
 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
 
The moon showed its silver face for the second time since that  
night. In the quiet of the forest, the company lay still. Boromir  
sat as lookout; Legolas lied on his side a few paces from him.  
Boromir gazed at the seemingly tranquil figure.  
 
"I know you're not asleep." 
 
Even though the words were scarcely louder than a whisper they  
sounded too loud to Legolas's ears. He sighed and spoke softly. 
 
"Indeed, I'm not." 
 
"Are you not going to do me the courtesy of facing me while we  
speak?" 
 
Legolas hesitantly sat up and looked at Boromir. The moonlight  
shone on his features, accentuating the contours of his face.  
Legolas's eyes strayed to his lips and was caught by the sudden  
desire to cover them with his own. Those lips curved up in a smile  
and emitted a small chuckle.  
 
"By the look on your face I think its fair to say I was right." 
 
Legolas felt blood rush to his cheeks and turned his gaze  
downward. 
 
"Right about what?", he asked, already knowing the answer.  
 
"About what I said the other night. You want the same thing from  
me that I want from you." 
 
Boromir stood up and advanced slowly on Legolas. The elf  
remained perfectly still. Boromir crouched in front of him and leaned  
in close enough that his breath warmed Legolas's skin. Legolas lifted  
his eyes and looked deep into Boromir's. His voice a little hoarsened  
with anticipation, he asked. 
 
"And what would that be?" 
 
Boromir extended his hand and placed it on the nape of Legolas's  
neck. 
 
"This." 
 
He closed the distance between them and claimed his enticing  
lips. Legolas responded eagerly, intertwining his fingers through  
Boromir's hair and pulling him closer. In the midst of their frenzied  
kissing, he pushed a hand against Boromir's chest and forced him to  
the floor. He straddled the human's hips and began to unfasten his  
clothes. Boromir grabbed his wrists, stopping their movements. 
 
"Hold on a minute." 
 
Legolas, confused, narrowed his eyes. 
 
"You don't want to do this?" he asked, a trace of hurt in his  
voice. 
 
Boromir smiled. 
 
"Of course I want to do this, that's not it. I just thought we  
should take this elsewhere. Unless you want witnesses for our  
activities." 
 
Legolas looked around them and his eyes widened when he noticed  
their sleeping companions. Well, hopefully they were still sleeping. 
 
"Oh. You're right, we should…" 
 
Hurriedly, he got up, pulling Boromir with him. He grabbed his  
hand and practically dragged him through the trees. When he felt they  
had gone far enough, he turned around to face Boromir and planted  
another fierce kiss on his lips. Simultaneously, they ripped at each  
others clothes, uncaring about what state they ended up in. They  
landed in a tumble on the ground, Legolas on top once more. He traced  
Boromir's jaw with his mouth and marked a wet path over his neck to  
his chest. His tongue played with the hardened nipples while his  
hands rubbed their erections together. Boromir moaned loudly with the  
elf's ministrations. He took hold of Legolas's head and pulled him up  
for another rough kiss.  
 
"Wait," he said in between short licks at the other'  
lips, "don't make me come yet." 
 
"Why not?", Legolas asked breathlessly.  
 
Boromir moved his hand over the elf's backside and pushed one  
finger in, making his partner moan. 
 
"Because I want to come in here." 
 
Legolas accepted with a simple nod but frowned a little. 
 
"But what about lubrication?" 
 
Boromir gave him a knowing look. 
 
"That won't be a problem." 
 
He gripped Legolas's length and pumped it rapidly. Legolas  
panted and groaned softly, his hips thrusting uncontrollably. He  
closed his eyes and his mouth formed an o as he came into Boromir's  
hand.  
 
The man carefully turned his lover on his back, spread his  
thighs and tenderly worked the spilt seed into the tight ring of  
muscle. Legolas, just now landing from the waves of pleasure coursing  
through his body, hardened again. Convinced that he was sufficiently  
prepared, the brawny human mounted the slender elf. He pushed in  
slowly, watchful of his lover's reaction. The insistent push against  
his groin told him what he needed to know. His body blanketed  
Legolas, scorching skin touching scorching skin. Boromir gazed upon  
the beauty of his partner. Silky, blonde hair, the color of gold in  
the sun, the color of silver in the moonlight, lay in disarray among  
the grass. The angelic face was thrown back, mewling, whimpering  
noises emerging from between his enticing lips. His supple legs were  
wrapped around the handsome human's broad back, moving in turn with  
his hard thrusts. The human grunted and groaned loudly, announcing  
his enjoyment to all the creatures who were near. The elf's body  
moved slightly back and forth on the forest floor with each of  
Boromir's thrusts. Boromir's fiery eyes caught Legolas's glazed ones  
and, roughly grasping the hardness that rubbed insistently against  
his stomach, he said in a raspy voice. 
 
"Sing louder for me." 
 
He pulled firmly at Legolas's cock, stroking him as hard and  
fast from the outside of his body as from the inside. Pleasure rushed  
through Legolas's body, overwhelming his senses and obliterating  
anything of the world outside his lover's touch. His soft whimpers  
became gasps and moans which escalated in timbre, but these were  
still not enough to satisfy Boromir. He caressed the quivering torso  
beneath him, fingers leaving scorching patterns on the heated skin.  
He leaned in close, lips brushing against the pointy elven ears,  
breath tickling the small hairs on the back of his neck.  
 
"Louder", he ordered.  
 
He dragged his lips over his delicate while at the same time  
strong throat, licking, nipping, tasting the sweet tanginess of his  
smooth skin. He tweaked a stiff nipple and barely pinched the tip,  
simultaneously bringing his teeth down on the pulse point in a gentle  
bite. Legolas arched his spine several inches off the ground, only  
his shoulders and the small of his back maintaining contact with it.  
His hands clutched Boromir's shoulders and a hoarse cry escaped his  
throat as his orgasming member spurted hot semen on both their  
abdomens. His muscles clenched around Boromir's own member, causing 
a  
loud moan to erupt from his chest. He pumped in and out of Legolas a  
few more times before bathing his insides with his warm seed.  
 
Shifting his weight so as to not crush his partner, he pulled  
out and rolled onto his side, gathering the equally spent elf to his  
chest. They breathed deeply and rested together in silence, waiting  
for their bodies to calm. After a few minutes, Boromir spoke. 
 
"Well, you were a little more enthusiastic than I was  
anticipating." 
 
Legolas laughed lightly and nuzzled the soft skin.  
 
"Maybe I've just been repressing it and it all came out at once." 
 
"If that's the case, I think there should be some left." 
 
"There's plenty left," Legolas answered suggestively, raising  
his head to look into Boromir`s eyes. "Care to try it?" 
 
Boromir brushed his hand through the satiny hair. 
 
"Of course," he said, joining their mouths.




Title: Under the Evening Sky (3/?) 
Author: Guanín 
E-mail: guanin@buffysdomain.com  
Disclaimer: Not mine. 
Pairing: Legolas/Boromir 
Summary: Legolas and Boromir converse. 
Rating: NC-17  
Distribution: The Library of Moria, anyone else, just ask. 
Feedback: Please, I need it to survive. 
 
 
 
The light of the new dawn found them resting back at the camp.  
The other members of the company didn't appear to have perceived  
something unusual during the night. Boromir and Legolas did not do  
or say anything to make them suspect otherwise. Under the daytime  
sky they were no more than two companions traveling for a common  
goal, but under the evening sky they were lovers who shared every  
sensual delight they could offer. Whilst the rest lay dead to the  
world the two sneaked off to a distant area where they could enjoy  
each other without interruptions. Often instead of sleeping  
afterwards they simply lied together beneath the stars, bodies  
cushioned by the dew-covered grass. In this particular instance  
Boromir lied on his back, his right arm pillowing his head, and  
Legolas rested his head on the hollow where Boromir's neck met his  
shoulder. His arm rested on the human's chest, rising and lowering  
with each breath the other took. Boromir's left arm loosely held  
Legolas's waist. Both calmly observed the luminous jewels that hung  
overhead, the subtle sounds of the night creatures creating a  
relaxing background.  
 
"What are you thinking of?" Boromir asked his silent partner. 
 
"Nothing much," Legolas responded. "You." 
 
"What? Am I not much to you?" Boromir said, feigning hurt. 
 
"No, afraid not," Legolas said casually. "I just use you for  
your body." 
 
"Then we're even. I don't care for you either." 
 
They remained quiet for a moment before they laughed lightly  
at their joke, both caring for each other more than they knew.  
 
"Seriously, are you really thinking about me?" Boromir asked. 
 
"Yes." Legolas paused for a second. "You're not how I thought  
you were when I first met you at the council." 
"How did you think I was?" 
 
"I thought you were arrogant and disrespectful."  
 
"Is that because of the comment I made about Aragorn being only  
a Ranger?" 
 
The memory of the look of wonderment on Boromir's face when he  
gazed at the ring disturbed Legolas for a second but he forced the  
image out of his mind. 
 
"Partly."  
 
"I noticed you defended him rather ardently." His voice turned  
teasing. "Is there something I should know about you two?" 
 
Legolas smiled slightly at the question.  
 
"No. We've been friends for some years now and I've garnered a  
deep admiration for him. Duty weighs heavily upon him." 
 
"It weighs upon us all." Boromir responded grimly. 
 
"Though on none more than him." 
 
They fell silent, pondering the troubles at hand and the dire  
possibilities each new day brought. Boromir broke the silence with a  
slightly hesitant question.  
 
"So tell me, how do think I am now?" 
 
"I think that you are a noble man who serves his people well  
and acts in their best interest," Legolas replied honestly.  
 
Boromir tightened his embrace a little in silent acceptance and  
spoke gravely. 
 
"They have suffered much, especially these past days with the  
forces of Mordor beating at our door. I'd do anything to ensure  
their well-being and peace of mind. That's why I traveled through  
forgotten paths to Rivendell seeking the counsel of Lord Elrond and  
an answer for the riddle in my mind. The answer turned out to be  
more complicated than I surmised." 
 
"It's more so than any of us could have imagined. I fear we may  
not yet know it's full implications," said Legolas with a sense of  
foreboding. "But, come now, we mustn't think such dreary thoughts  
all the time." He turned his head and looked deep into Boromir's  
eyes. The hand that lied on Boromir's chest moved up and tenderly  
stroked the scratchy cheek. Boromir lifted his own hand and placed  
it on top of Legolas's, squeezing it gently.  
 
"I think I might need a little help getting them off my mind,"  
Boromir said suggestively. 
 
Legolas smiled and, removing his hand, twisted his body around  
to lean on his elbow facing him. His free hand trailed slowly down  
the broad chest and stopped on his abdomen. He moved his hand back  
up in the same leisurely pace.  
 
Leaning in close to Boromir's ear, he whispered, "I could help  
you with that." 
 
The sentence was punctuated by a lick that went along the  
outline of the ear and ended with a brief sucking of the lobe into  
his mouth. Boromir sucked in a sharp breath, took hold of the soft  
tresses near his face and gently pulled Legolas's face less than an  
inch from his.  
 
"I would like that," he said with a hoarsened voice.  
 
He pressed his mouth to the elf's and ravaging the delectable  
lips. His hand traveled over Legolas's flank, caressing the smooth  
skin. He tried to turn them over so he was on top of Legolas but the  
elf pushed him back down.  
 
"Hold on," he said in a breathless voice. "I already have plans  
for you." 
 
He lowered his head to Boromir's chest and proceeded to kiss  
his way down his body. His tongue lapped at the warm flesh, tasting  
the unique flavor of his lover. He parted the strong legs and  
settled between them and his hands massaged the satiny skin of the  
man's inner thighs. Legolas finally reached the jutting hardness but  
instead of touching it he moved his mouth down to the side. Boromir,  
who had been moaning contentently, growled in frustration. Legolas  
seized the hand that reached for his head. 
 
"Be patient, my love." 
 
Quickly, he drew he drew one of Boromir's testicles into his  
mouth and rolled it with his tongue. He repeated the motions with  
its twin and then licked up the long shaft with the tip of his  
tongue. The surprised gasp he heard followed by a loud groan more  
than satisfied him. He took the tip into his mouth and licked around  
the erection. Legolas bobed his head, with every sweep down taking  
more of it in until nose touched skin. Overwhelmed at the feeling of  
being deep throated, Boromir thrust up into the eager mouth, his  
hands clutching at the silken hair which felt like a breeze on his  
hot skin. He came shouting Legolas's name, heedless of whoever might  
hear it. After calmly swallowing every drop of fluid, Legolas  
climbed back up the shaking body and gazed at Boromir's pleased face. 
 
"Did that help?" 
Boromir smiled. 
 
"That always helps."




Title: Under the Evening Sky (4/?) 
Author: Guanín   
Disclaimer: They're not mine, never will be, no matter how much I  
wish they were. 
Pairing: Legolas/Boromir 
Summary: On the road to Mordor. 
Rating: PG-13, not sure.  
Distribution: The Library of Moria, anyone else, just ask. 
Feedback: Please, I need it to survive. 
 
 
 
The company rested on a high slope nearing the Misty Mountains,  
hidden from view by overhanging rock formations and thick bushes.  
Since the crebain had first flown over them a couple of days ago,  
they only traveled under the cloak of the night to avoid being seen.  
Gandalf and Aragorn sat together to the side discussing which route  
would be best to take to Mordor. Boromir and Legolas listened  
detachedly to the conversation from behind a tall boulder.  
 
"I'm not sure of this road we're taking. It doesn't feel  
right," Boromir whispered so he wouldn't be overheard.  
 
"Nothing's sure on this journey," Legolas responded. "But we  
must trust Gandalf's judgment on this. He would not steer us wrong  
and bring us to peril deliberately." 
 
"I know, but the pass of Caradhras is not to be taken lightly.  
I have experienced bitter cold and biting wind the like that dwells  
in those mountains. We would be better prepared to face it, but the  
hobbits, they don't know what it's like. They're so small; they  
could easily freeze to death up there." 
 
"You really care about them." 
 
Legolas knew that though he was referring to all the hobbits,  
two concerned him in particular. 
 
"They had no idea what they were getting into when they signed  
up for this. Do you remember when they insisted that they be  
included in the Company? Pippin didn't even know where we were  
going." 
 
Legolas laughed lightly at the naiveté of the young hobbit, a  
happy memory among what promised to be a lot of bad ones. Boromir  
wasn't the only one who was worried about the road they were taking  
to Mordor, Legolas also felt apprehension. A sudden chill that might  
have been caused by the passing breeze permeated his skin and a dark  
shadow crept in his mind, foretelling doom to come.  
 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
Moria. The dismal name struck fear and dread in the hearts of  
dwarfs, elves, and men alike. The dwarfs burrowed too deep and  
disturbed nameless terrors which should have remained buried. Yet  
even with this knowledge the Company had set their course to the  
dark mines after Caradhras bested them. Both Legolas and Boromir had  
firmly opposed that option but the ring bearer had the final word on  
the matter. Too soon after their arrival at the Doors of Durin did  
they discover the first of the foul beasts which dwelled there. Only  
a hasty rescue prevented Frodo from being swallowed by flailing  
tentacles into the fetid water. In its desire to snatch him once  
again, the creature had bashed the gates and knocked down the  
surrounding rock, effectively closing off the entrance and leaving  
them with no other alternative but to transverse the ominous  
passage. They wandered far into the heart of the old quarry, ever  
watchful for any strange presence that might be lurking in the  
shadows. After several hours of marching over the winding passages  
and making their way around treacherous pitfalls, Gandalf stopped  
under a wide arch marked with three different openings. Confused, he  
looked around him for anything that might betray their whereabouts.  
 
"I have no memory of this place," he said. 
 
The group stopped to take a much-needed rest while Gandalf  
tried to remember which way was correct. They were so tired that  
most of them fell asleep as soon as they hit the floor. But Legolas  
couldn't sleep. Caves had never been to his liking; the enclosed  
space, layers of rock all around him, hiding the sky from view, not  
even knowing if it was night or day, the way the walls that seemed  
to close in on him, making him feel claustrophobic. And now not only  
were they in a whole system of them, but there were evil beings  
hiding in the shadows, waiting for the appropriate time to attack.  
He felt them even though he couldn't see them.  
 
"Legolas." 
 
The softly- spoken word startled him for a second before he  
realized to whom the voice belonged to. 
 
"I noticed you couldn't sleep either," Boromir whispered.  
 
"You seem to be pretty good at telling whether I'm asleep or  
not," Legolas responded, turning around to face him. 
 
"I pay attention," Boromir answered, smiling. "You breathe  
differently when you're asleep. Also, you looked troubled." 
 
"Aren't we all?" 
 
"Hard not to be. Within the last days we've been accosted by  
spying birds, almost frozen to death and buried in snow, attacked by  
a water monster, and forced to cross mines which are probably  
crawling with orcs, not to mention what other foul creatures the  
dwarfs awoke." 
 
"That does sound rather bleak." 
 
"But you're not easily fazed. You looked cheery enough on the  
mountain when you showed off your elvish talents while the rest of  
us trudged through the snow." 
 
"It's the mines," Legolas sighed. "I don't like caves. They're  
stuffy and humid and they smell damp. The walls feel like they're  
closing in on me. And I can't see the sky, can't see the bright  
stars above and you know how much I like looking at them. There's no  
fresh air, and the silence is oppressive, it's unnatural, although  
in here sounds other than our own would be a bad sign." 
 
"There is a menacing air about this place. This will not end  
well. I can feel it in my bones." 
 
They shared a long moment of silence, pondering on the dangers  
that lay ahead.  
 
"Well," spoke Legolas, getting into as comfortable a position  
he could get into on the hard stone floor, "we should at least try  
to get so sleep. It won't do much good to go into battle yawning." 
 
"I thought you were too tense to sleep." 
 
"Then I'll try not to be so tense." 
 
There was a brief pause. 
 
"You did me the favor once." 
 
"Go to sleep, Boromir." 
 
"I just want to return the favor." 
 
"No," he emphasized this by turning his back to him. "Gandalf's  
sitting right there, he would hear us." 
 
"Not you, you're always so quiet." 
 
Boromir slid his hand over the elf's chest. Legolas stopped it  
before it could go any lower.  
 
"Not now. Later, when we're alone." 
 
Boromir kissed Legolas's pale neck.  
 
"You sure?" 
 
"Yes. Now go to sleep." 
 
"Can I at least hold you while you fall asleep?" 
 
Legolas smiled and shifted closer to Boromir until his back  
pressed against his chest. 
 
"I would like that." 
 
Legolas fell asleep to the touch of Boromir nuzzling his neck  
and the comforting presence of his hand holding his.




Title: Under the Evening Sky (5/?) 
Author: Guanín  
E-mail: guanin@buffysdomain.com  
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be, no matter how much I wish they were. 
Pairing: Legolas/Boromir 
Summary: In Lothlorien.  
Rating: PG  
Distribution: The Library of Moria, anyone else, just ask. 
Feedback: Please, I need it to survive. 
 
 
 
 
They managed to escape the confines of the mines of Moria, but at a 
terrible price. Gandalf the Grey, their counselor, guide and trusted friend had 
fallen into shadow, ensnared by the flailing, fire whip of a Balrog and dragged 
along with it to his doom at the Bridge of Khazad-Dûm. With tears in their eyes 
but no time to stop and mourn, they pressed on until the danger was far behind 
them. Now here, in the fair land of Lothlórien, their hearts were relieved for 
a while by the enchantment that dwelled in every bough and every stone, as well 
as the gentle words of the Lady Galadriel. But their grief could not be kept at 
bay for long. The loss of one so dear was irreplaceable, and it weighed heavily 
on their spirits.  
 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
 
Legolas walked among the regal, tall trees of the Golden Wood, the pale 
light of the moon that filtered through the foliage illuminating the 
leaf-strewn path. A refreshing breeze brushed his skin, washing away weariness 
and sorrow. The splendor and majesty of this land had been recorded in song so 
that all who were not fortunate enough to see it might try to envision it. But 
not even the most melodious tune did justice to the magnificence that 
surrounded him. Golden leaves high on silver branches and upon the verdant 
ground; smooth, gray columns rising to meet the star-studded sky.  
“A Olórin i yáresse 
Mentaner i Númeherui” 
The solemn Quenya words floated across the forest city. Despite their 
beauty they caused sadness to bloom back in Legolas’s spirit.  
“A lament for Gandalf,” he said, not knowing that he had spoken out loud 
until Merry did the same. 
“What do they say about him?” 
Legolas turned to face him. 
“I have not the heart to tell you. For me the grief is still too near.” 
His soft voice betrayed only a modicum of the dejected emotions he felt. 
He moved on past where the hobbits settled down to sleep and continued his 
aimless wanderings, the somber dirge present in his mind. He began to sing 
along with it in a low voice. 
“Mithrandir, Mithrandir, A Randir Vithren 
ú-reniathach i amar galen 
I reniad lín ne mór…” 
The words died on his lips as he heard Aragorn’s voice, followed by 
Boromir’s upset one. 
“I heard a voice inside my head. She spoke of my father and the fall of 
Gondor.” 
Legolas remembered when at their welcome the Lady looked searchingly into 
each of their eyes. He had not liked Boromir’s reaction. He shook and took 
halting breaths before turning his gaze downwards. Legolas almost reached out 
an arm to comfort him but at that moment Galadriel shifted her gaze towards 
him. He stood straight and held her eyes without flinching, although he feared 
what she might find and tell him in return. What she had told him wasn’t 
disheartening nor was it reassuring. Nevertheless, a vague discomfort had been 
growing in his mind.  
Not wanting to eavesdrop on his lover’s private conversations, Legolas 
turned away to another part of the forest.  
 
 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
 
Boromir did not speak with Aragorn for long, but in the short time they 
spent together he sensed that a silent agreement had been reached. The 
discomfort that he felt around the Ranger since Rivendell when Legolas informed 
him that he was the heir of Isildur was no longer there. At first he felt 
threatened by this man who might one day return to Gondor and take the throne, 
and where would that leave him? But he didn’t fear that fate anymore, he knew 
Aragorn wasn’t his enemy. Now he was a comrade whom he would gladly welcome to 
come back with him to Minas Tirith.  
After Aragorn left to get some rest Boromir went in search of Legolas. He 
wasn’t with the group and he couldn’t ask any of them if they knew his 
whereabouts for they were already asleep. He ventured out to the surrounding 
woods and looked carefully but found no sign of the blonde elf. 
“Boromir.” 
Startled, Boromir jumped slightly and glanced up in the direction from 
which he heard the voice. He spotted Legolas’s leather boots hanging from a 
branch above his head and let out a relieved breath.  
“I’ve been looking all over the place for you.” 
Legolas smiled at the mixture of concern and frustration on the others 
face.  
“I’m sorry if I worried you. I just wanted to be alone for a while, do 
some thinking. Too much has occurred these last couple of days. Do you want to 
come up or shall I go down?” 
“I’ll come up. It’s not like I haven’t climbed a tree before, used to do 
it plenty when I was a boy,” he said, gripping the lower branches to hoist 
himself up. His feet couldn’t get a good grip on the smooth bark, so Legolas 
grabbed onto his shoulders and helped him lift him up to the branch where he 
was sitting.  
“Of course, that was a long time ago and the trees back home are a little 
more human friendly. Although I take it forty years isn’t long to your kind.” 
A dull ache settled on Legolas’s heart at the reminder that the man who 
meant more to him most of the people he had known in his long life was a 
mortal, doomed to die one day and leave him.  
“It’s like the flutter of a bird’s wings, it passes before we’re even 
conscious of it,” he answered, voice tinged with sorrow. “And yet in one 
instant, one fraction of a second, something can happen and irrevocably change 
everything.” 
“Gandalf’s death is trying on us all. He was our guide and a good friend 
who died so that we would be able to escape. I deeply regret the bad things I 
said about his leadership.” 
Legolas placed a reassuring hand on Boromir’s thigh which was quickly 
covered by the human’s own. 
“There’s nothing you should feel guilty about. You were merely thinking in 
the group’s best interest.” 
A long silence followed. Their fingers curled on Boromir’s leg and lied 
intertwined, thumbs absently caressing the other’s skin.  
“So many things have happened since we left Rivendell, things I never 
thought I would live through,” Boromir said. “Climbing Caradhras, going through 
Moria, coming face to face with a Balrog, a creature I didn’t even know 
existed, coming here.” 
He looked down at their joined hands then lifted his gaze and looked 
deeply into Legolas’s eyes.  
“But the only experience that matters to me is meeting you. For that I 
would gladly go through Moria and back with only my sword to aid me.” 
Legolas felt his heart expand with emotion. He brought Boromir’s hand up 
to his mouth and reverently kissed it.  
“As would I. Simple words fail to express the love that I feel for you.”  
Boromir pressed their hands to his chest. 
“In a way I don’t regret this ring and the dangerous quest it has forced 
us to take. It gave a chance to fall in love with you.”  
Their lips met in a tender kiss that conveyed the depth of their feelings 
for each other, and their souls rejoiced at the finding of kindred spirits.  
 
 
 

Title: Under the Evening Sky (6/?) 
Author: Guanín  
E-mail: guanin@buffysdomain.com  
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be, no matter how much I wish they were. 
Pairing: Legolas/Boromir 
Summary: In Lothlórien 
Rating: NC-17 
Distribution: The Library of Moria, anyone else, just ask. 
Feedback: Please, I need it to survive. 
 
 
The morning sun shed the cloak of rich reds and purples it had draped 
across the sky and cast its bright rays over the slumbering inhabitants of the 
Golden Wood. It found the two lovers dozing under the shade of the tree on 
which they were perched earlier. After determining that sleeping on a branch 
several feet off the ground was not the safest of options, they descended and 
lied down intertwined on a soft patch of grass, luxuriating in the close 
proximity of their bodies. No words were spoken, none were needed. Their loving 
gazes and lingering touches communicated their emotions more vividly than mere 
words could.  
 
Legolas woke first, squinting a little at the beaming light, and smiled 
contentedly as he beheld the welcome sight of his love still in the land of 
dreams. His head was cradled by Legolas’s arm, so each warm breath he exhaled 
blew on the elf’s skin. His face looked peaceful, the lines of weariness and 
toil smoothened. Legolas enjoyed this preciously rare moment. He brushed back a 
strand of hair that had fallen on Boromir’s face and leaned in to give him a 
kiss on the forehead. Boromir stirred and opened sleepy eyes. He glanced up at 
the happy face before him and returned his smile with a lazy one of his own.  
 
“What are you smiling about?” 
 
“I like watching you sleep.” 
 
Legolas leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on Boromir’s half-parted 
lips. They curved slightly in a serene smile. 
 
“You taste good in the morning.” 
 
He reached for another sampling of the supple lips. 
 
“Real good.” 
 
Legolas smiled back. 
 
“You’re not too bad yourself.” 
Absently, Boromir glanced up at the sky and started slightly when he saw 
the sun high beyond the treetops. 
 
“We slept for longer than I expected.” 
 
Legolas looked up also and noticed that midmorning had already passed. He 
sighed. 
 
“We probably should return.” 
 
“They don’t know where we are.” 
 
“Maybe they think we got lost in the dark.” 
 
“They’re probably searching for us right now.” 
 
Legolas looked into his partner’s gray eyes and tenderly caressed a stubble 
covered cheek. 
 
“Let them,” he said in a slightly possessive tone. “I’m not letting go of 
you today.” 
 
Boromir returned desirous look with a beguiling smile. 
 
“Oh really.” 
 
He wrapped his arm around Legolas’s waist and pressed the lengths of their 
bodies together.  
 
“What did you have in mind.?” 
 
The elf trailed his hand suggestively over Boromir’s chest. 
 
“Well, we could,” he joined their lips in a short kiss, “stay here,” he 
kissed him again, “and I can show you,” he parted the yielding lips with his 
tongue, “how much you mean to me.” 
 
Boromir claimed his lips in a fervent kiss and threaded his fingers through 
his silky hair. When their mouths finally parted both were left breathless.  
 
“I want you.” 
 
Boromir dragged his lips over Legolas’s jaw. 
 
“I need you.” 
 
He lapped the satiny earlobe and nibbled on the pointy tip. 
 
“I love you.” 
 
A low moan escaped Legolas’s lips and his breath quickened. He gripped 
Boromir’s shoulders, his fingers raking over the thin veil of his tunic, a 
barrier between them that he desperately wanted to get rid off. His hand 
strayed down Boromir’s torso and began to pull it when his eyes detected a 
movement and a flash of blonde hair among the trees. 
 
“Boromir,” he whispered urgently. 
 
A ‘umm’ and a hand stroking the curve of his hip was the only response he 
received. 
 
“Boromir,” he repeated more insistently while pushing against his chest. 
 
Boromir finally relented and ceased his joyful play on the elf’s throat. 
 
“What is it?” he said, his voice a blend of frustration and desire. “You are 
not going to back up on your offer to me, are you?” 
 
“No, but we will have to go somewhere else. There is someone coming.” 
 
Boromir turned his head in the direction Legolas was looking but failed to 
find anything in the distance. 
 
“I don’t see anyone…” 
 
Just then a tall figure appeared in his line of vision, blonde head turning 
around inquisitively. 
 
Boromir lowered his head rapidly. 
 
“Damn. They are looking for us.” He turned to face his vexed partner. 
“Where can we go?” 
 
“I’m not sure, I am no more familiar with these woods than you are. In any 
case we will have to move now before he sees us.” 
 
Silently and swiftly, Legolas lifted his body and moving closely to the 
wide trunk, stood hidden from the Galadrim’s view. He motioned to Boromir.  
 
“Come quickly.” 
 
Boromir risked one more glance the strange elf’s way, who at the moment 
looked away from their location, and sidled up next to the tree, though in a 
less graceful fashion than Legolas, to stand next to him.  
 
“Where to now?” he breathed into the elf’s ear.  
 
Legolas’s keen eyes searched the woods to the opposite side for signs of 
any other elf or man who could be seeking them. Finding none, he whispered. 
 
“I don’t see anyone this way, though they may be concealed by the foliage. 
I don’t to stray too far or we really could get lost.” 
 
“What if we go back for a little while, allay their fears, and then sneak 
off again? It would also serve to get something to eat.” 
 
Realization came over Legolas’s face. 
 
“To be honest I had forgotten about food. It is not till now when I feel 
pangs of hunger. It would be wise to go back in that case. Though my other 
hunger, I fear,” he placed his hands on Boromir’s lower back and pulled him 
forward. His face remained not an inch from the human’s, “cannot be appeased so 
easily.” 
 
Boromir slid his hand down Legolas’s abdomen, reached inside the tight 
leggings and cupped the semi-hard shaft. Legolas gasped in unexpected pleasure. 
 
“Perhaps just a quick one then.” 
 
Boromir wrapped his hand fully around the needy column and began a steady 
pace of long, even strokes. Legolas whimpered softly, his eyes half closed in 
bliss, and his fingers dug into Boromir’s flesh. His eyes never leaving 
Boromir’s, he moved one of his hands between them and unclasped the man’s 
trousers. Finding his prize, he caressed him as urgently and completely as he 
himself was being stroked. Blue eyes looked intensely into gray. Passion, 
rapture, and love flowed freely between. The fire within them burned hotter 
with each accelerating stroke, each feverish touch, each ecstatic moan, each 
desperate pawing of the flesh. As they brought each other to climax, Legolas 
took Boromir’s lips in an ardent kiss and eagerly swallowed the loud moan that 
he emitted when he spilled his seed into the elf’s waiting hand. Legolas came 
barely seconds afterward. Both leaned bonelessly against the tree and their 
mouths separated. When he had recovered some of his breath, Boromir asked. 
 
“Was that enough to placate your hunger for the moment?” 
 
Legolas smiled lethargically. 
 
“Yes, but only for now. I’ll wish to enjoy the main course later.” 
 
“Don’t worry. You won’t have to wait long.” 
 
 
 

Title: Under the Evening Sky (7/7) 
Author: Guanín  
E-mail: guanin@buffysdomain.com   
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be, no matter how much I wish they were. Some 
of the dialogue is taken directly from the movie. 
Pairing: Legolas/Boromir 
Summary: The Breaking of the Fellowship 
Rating: PG-13 
Distribution: The Library of Moria, anyone else, just ask. 
Feedback: Please, I need it to survive. 
Notes: Thank You to everyone to stuck around throughout this whole thing, I 
know it took a while. I have to warn you though, I feel a sequel coming on. 
 
The two lay side by side, exhausted bodies glistening with sweat. 

“Well, my precious elf, what do you say?” said Boromir. “Was I able to 
fully satiate your passion?” 

“My passion for you, Boromir, will never diminish. Although I have to 
admit, at this particular moment I am too tired to demonstrate it to you. You 
are not easily satisfied yourself.” 

“How can I resist enjoying such an exquisite and willing partner?” 

“Don’t worry, you will get plenty of chances. We probably are going to 
stay for a couple of days to allow everyone a chance to recover.” 

“Do I get to have you all those days?” 

Legolas only smiled in his direction. Boromir already knew the answer.
  
~~~~~~~~~ 
 
They remained a number of days in Lothlórien, though none could tell 
exactly how many. Legolas and Boromir spent some of that time with the group 
but mostly went off by themselves, relishing the other’s company, allowing 
themselves to forget the outside world and the troubles that plagued them. The 
other’s made no comment at their unexpected closeness, yet they wondered what 
exactly their relationship entailed.  

When it came time to leave, the Lady Galadriel bestowed upon each of them a 
distinctive gift and their hearts were gladdened at receiving them yet at the 
same time saddened as they left the peaceful kingdom of the Golden Wood. 
Legolas and Boromir traveled in different boats, but were nevertheless aware of 
the other at all times. The long trip along the Anduin was made mostly in 
silence. A gloomy and bleak feeling hung in the air and an ominous presence 
prowled in the surrounding forest, regardless of the daytime sun. Unknown 
threats troubled the minds of the Company, prompting them to press on more 
rapidly. Finally they passed the Argonath, the twin statues of the old kings 
which towered over each side of the Great River, their faces stern and arms 
raised to ward off any unwanted intruders.  

They landed on the lawn of Parth Galen at the feet of Amon Hen, where 
Aragorn announced that they would cross the lake at nightfall and continue then 
to Mordor. This worried Legolas. A shadow had been growing in his mind; 
something was drawing near fast, something that might prove fatal if they 
confronted it. He told Aragorn so, but not the entire truth. Whatever was 
approaching was not the only threat that he perceived on their journey; 
something akin to a premonition troubled his spirit. 

“Where’s Frodo?” 

Merry’s words disturbed Legolas’ thoughts, but the ones uttered by 
Aragorn caused shivers to run through his limbs.  

“Boromir’s gone.” 

Legolas turned around quickly and indeed, the lone shield leaned against a 
tree, but the man himself was nowhere in sight.  
 
~~~~~~~~~ 

Ever since they left Lórien, an old shadow had returned to haunt Boromir’s 
mind. It called to him, exactly like it had in Rivendell. Its seductive voice 
told of victories over their enemies, of a Gondor in which peace was restored 
and misery would no longer be his people’s lot, of a time when at last the 
Ruling Stewards became kings in their own right. Of this and many other hidden 
desires it spoke, and as much as Boromir tried to ignore it, his efforts were 
in vain. His eyes strayed towards Frodo and he thought of the ring that lay 
concealed under his clothes. After their arrival, Frodo walked off on his own 
from the camp and Boromir felt the uncontrollable urge to follow him. He 
steered away from him at first, not wanting to appear overly suspicious and 
made the pretense of collecting firewood. He encountered Frodo on the slope of 
Amon Hen and announced his presence with some friendly advice.  

“None of us should wander alone, you least of all. So much depends on you.” 

Sensing the hobbit’s discomfort, he quietly spoke his name. “Frodo?”  

Frodo only looked at him warily. 

Boromir’s tone turned understanding. 

“I know why you seek solitude. You suffer; I see it day by day. You sure 
you do not suffer needlessly?”

Now is my chance, he thought, influenced by the ring’s power. Maybe I can 
convince him not to go to Mordor, but instead to Minas Tirith with me. 

“There are other ways Frodo. Other paths that we might take.” 

Frodo steadily met his beseeching gaze and spoke firmly. 

“I know what you would say. And it would seem like wisdom but for the 
warning in my heart.” 

Boromir started to get irritated. 

“Warning? Against what? We are all afraid Frodo.” 

Frodo began to back away slowly. 

“But to let that fear destroy what hope we have, don’t you see, that is 
madness.” 

“There is no other way!” 

Desperation welled up in Boromir. 

“I ask only for the strength to defend my people.” He threw the wood he had 
gathered angrily at the ground. “If you would but lend me the ring.” 

“No.” Frodo continued to step further from Boromir. 

“Why do you recoil? I am no thief.” 

“You are not yourself!” 

Boromir’s voice had slight mocking tone, which progressively got louder. 

“What chance do you think you have? They will find you. They will take the 
ring, and you will beg for death before the end!” 

Frightened, Frodo began to run from him. 

Fury rose up within Boromir. 

“Fool,” he spit out. Maddened, he pursued Frodo and tackled him to the 
ground. 

“It is not yours save by unhappy chance. It could have been mine! It should 
be mine! Give it to me!” 

He roughly tried to still the struggling hobbit and searched frantically 
for the ring. 

“Give it to me.” 

“No!” 

“Give me the ring.” 

Frodo slipped the ring on his finger and vanished before Boromir’s 
surprised eyes. He kicked Boromir on the shoulder and ran off.  

Boromir looked around with a wild expression on his face. 

“Now I see your mind. You will take the ring to Sauron! You will betray us! 
You go to your death and the death of us all! Curse you! Curse you! And all the 
halfings!” 

In his hurry to stand up he slipped on a patch of lose soil and crashed 
onto the ground. The fall cleared his mind from the foul presence of the ring 
and he realized what he had just done. Tears came to his eyes and he called for 
Frodo remorsefully, offering words of apology, but silence was his only answer.  

An immense sorrow grew within Boromir. He had failed the Company and 
betrayed their trust. The words he had spoken came back to him and filled him 
with revulsion. How had he let that vile thing control him so? Bereft, he 
wandered aimlessly through the woods, his mind reeling with dismal thoughts. He 
had walked for some time when he heard the clash of metal and the heavy 
footsteps of what could only be an army approaching. Sword drawn, he raced 
towards the sound, praying that he would not be too late.  

~~~~~~~~~~ 

Aragorn had gone in search of Boromir while Gimli and Legolas stayed 
behind. Legolas was frantically trying to stay calm but he knew in his heart 
what was the threat that had been nagging at him for days. He had noticed the 
stares that Boromir gave Frodo, he had seen that strange light in his eyes, the 
odd yearning that tensed his body, the inner struggle that he went through 
whenever he was near the hobbit. That foul thing still had its claws in 
Boromir’s mind. Why had he not perceived it earlier?  

The loud sounds of a struggle and Aragorn’s battle cry ‘Elendil’ came to 
their ears.  

“Aragorn’s in trouble,” said Gimli. 

“The shadow has come, just as I suspected,” Legolas replied grimly, a 
foreboding air telling him that they would not leave this conflict unscathed.  
They rushed towards the sounds of the conflict and as they escalated Amon 
Hen they saw peculiar orc-like creatures running up the hill. When they reached 
the Seat of Seeing they noticed that Aragorn was fighting an entire army of 
them. They rapidly went into action, Legolas shot the foul beings before they 
could step any closer and Gimli felled them with a hard stroke of his axe.  
“Aragorn! Go!” Legolas cried, but the enemy was too numerous and the three 
of them were barely able to hold them back. They came at them from all 
directions, vicious faces snarling, broadswords hacking down, seeking to sink 
into soft flesh. Suddenly, the deep call of an ox-horn was heard. The horn’s 
nature was unmistakable as was the caller. Profound fear rose up in the elf’s 
soul and his normally steady hands shook.  

“The Horn of Gondor!” he cried, trepidation in his voice. 

“Boromir!” exclaimed Aragorn, as he ran in the call’s direction with all 
the speed that he could muster. Legolas tried to remain close to him but the 
beasts blocked his path. Desperately, he fought his way through the ranks and 
slowly moved forward, his anxiety growing with each step he took. When he 
finally managed to reach Aragorn and saw what was occurring, his heart clenched 
in a cold vise and he stood for a moment, body frozen in disbelief. 
 
~~~~~~~~~ 

Boromir had arrived just in time to stop an orc from crushing Merry and 
Pippin with its axe. When more charged at him, he drove them back with the 
brutal onslaught of his sword. In a short hiatus in the fighting he lifted his 
great horn to his lips and blew three times, summoning help. Instead, more orcs 
came running down the hill towards him. Regardless of their greater number, 
they didn’t last long under the maddened fighting of the Gondorian man. 
Noticing that no one had come to their aid, Boromir blew the horn again. Seeing 
that the two hobbits still stood immobile in the same spot he cried to them to 
flee.  

Suddenly, a long, black arrow embedded itself into his left shoulder, 
pushing his body back. A red, bolt of pain shot wracked his body and he dropped 
to his knees. He couldn’t catch his breath, it had been forced out of him. He 
looked up at the hobbit’s shocked and fearful faces and newfound strength 
emerged within him. He would not let these foul creatures have them for as long 
as he was able to swing his sword. Shouting a battle cry, he rose and swung at 
one. Another arrow flew through the air, this one landing in his stomach. He 
fell to his knees again and struggled to breathe. Once again he stood and made 
one final attempt to fight but the third arrow, which reached him in the chest, 
proved to be too much for him. He stumbled and fell for the last time; all his 
strength had deserted him. Gasping, struggling to at least remain upright, he 
barely registered the cries that Merry and Pippin gave. He watched helplessly 
as the orcs carried them off, the immense sense of failure that he had felt on 
the slopes of Amon Hen returning to him. Their prize in hand, the army walked 
past him, except for one who stopped in front of him. A black-tipped arrow 
waved in front of his face, signaling his imminent doom. The orc, who towered 
above him, prepared to strike the final blow. Just before he could losen his 
arrow, Aragorn tackled him to the ground.  

Weakly, Boromir crawled forward and collapsed on his back at the foot of a 
tree. Through the lethargic haze that had settled over his brain, one image 
became clear, that of his dear Legolas. As the image moved closer, he realized 
that the elf was indeed before him.  

Legolas hurried to Boromir’s side, eyes glistening with tears. His hands 
hovered over the arrows entrenched in the man’s body, not daring to touch them.  

“Legolas,” Boromir’s strong voice was dampened with sorrow, “my fair 
Legolas.” 

His hand rose to cup his quivering cheek. Legolas grabbed, took hold of it, 
gave it an ardent kiss. 

“I have failed, I have failed you.”  

“No, no, you could never fail me.” 

Boromir smiled grimly at the firmly spoken words. 

“I betrayed your trust. I tried to take the ring, it commanded me, I could 
not resist. I hurt Frodo, he ran from me. He could be hurt or captured like 
Merry and Pippin. Even there I failed, the orcs, they took them, who knows what 
horrors await them at their filthy hands.” 

“We will get them back, I swear. I will not rest until they are safe and 
their captors have paid for what they have done to you.”  

Boromir’s breath hitched; he knew not much time was left.  

“Legolas, I’m so sorry I cannot stay with you. Though I would have left you 
eventually in any case but I…” he gasped “I hoped at least a few more years…” 

“I would have spent your entire lifetime with you,” the anguish was 
palpable in his voice, “I never would have left your side.” 

Boromir’s hand lightly tugged at Legolas and he leaned down. Their lips met 
in a tender, bittersweet kiss 

“I love you,” Boromir breathed.  

A crystalline tear slid down Legolas’s cheek. “I love you.” 

Abruptly, the light in Boromir’s eyes faded and his chest stilled. 

Legolas’s pain-filled eyes widened and he swallowed convulsively, emitting 
soft, choked off words. 

"No, no... no, please don’t leave me, please..." 

He embraced the stiffening body of his lover, the tears falling freely now.  
Behind him Aragorn and Gimli stood in a mournful silence, feeling the 
torment of their friend. Around them the forest grew quiet and the only thing 
that was heard was the sound of an elf’s heart breaking.  
 
 
 
 
Guanin 
 
~~~~~~~~ 
"The thing that most matters in this world is the process of creation. What 
kind of mystery is this that makes the simple wish of telling stories turn into 
a passion, that a human being would be willing to die for it; die of hunger, 
cold or whatever, just to do something that you can't see or touch and that, in 
the end, if you think about it, can't be used for anything?" 
Gabriel García Marquez 
 
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