La Belle Dame Sans Merci
folder
-Multi-Age › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,981
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,981
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Danse Macabre
She appeared to him garbed in a gown that traced the curves of her body. It was so cunningly made that he could not tell where the gold of the gown ended and the gold of her skin began. There was a fire in her strange and dark eyes as she walked to him and allowed him to gather her in his arms.
“You are as cold as death, beautiful one.”
She smiled and cocked her head slightly to regard him. “It is the chill of the Anduin that you feel as the Elven boat carries your body to its final resting place.”
Although the specter of death was a constant to those who were warriors, it was still a shock to hear such news.
“I am able to see much Boromir of Gondor. And I see your fate if you allow this quest to destroy me to continue.”
The realization came as to what she was and he would have pulled away in horror, but she was no flesh and blood woman.
Her soft voice continued to speak words that added to the growing chill spreading throughout his body. “Do you truly wish to see me perish in the fires of Mt. Oroduin? Love stayed the hand of Isildur and prevented him from destroying me, while the Peredhil urged him to do otherwise.”
She pressed even closer and laid her head against his shoulder. “The line of Stewards has the blood of Númenor flowing through its veins as well. Why should you stand aside and watch as a Ranger from the North reclaims the Elendilmir and scepter of Annúminas?”
“He is the rightful heir.”
Her voice became a metallic and sibilant whisper. “I could make you the rightful heir.”
An image of the future came to Boromir’s mind and he saw himself on the day of his coronation – richly garbed in robes of gold with a crown of gold upon his head.
“Am I not the perfect crown to rest upon the brow of Boromir, son of Denethor, the newly crowned King of the Reunited Kingdoms?”
As she spoke again, Boromir frowned at the loss of wondrous image of what his future could hold.
“Long have I served a master and would desire to serve you in the same way. I would be your eyes and ears that would whisper to you of all the hidden thoughts and desires of both your allies and adversaries. And I would be your lover and come to you in times such as this and bask in the warmth of your life force.”
A spark of desire curled deep in Boromir’s belly. Though his days were spent largely in the art of war, he had an appreciation for the soft touch of a woman. Yet she was like any other woman he had ever held in his arms. Her beauty easily surpassed the beauty of other women, yet she did not feel as a woman should. In his hands, she felt like a well handled and cherished sword with the imprint of its owner’s hand upon its hilt.
She must have discerned his thoughts for she spoke, “I can be a weapon as well my king. It is within my power to protect you from all harm and danger. You would never fall in battle as you will if you allow the Ringbearer to continue with his journey. And it is within my power to increase the span of your years. Imagine what you could do as a king ruling not for years, but for centuries? The power and knowledge that you would acquire would be unrivaled when compared against the deeds of the kings of old.”
It was a tempting thought, but one tempered by the thought of the fate of her last owner. “It is rumored that you granted the one called Gollum more years than were his due.”
“Yes. It was true.”
“But the price for the pleasure of your company was that he was transformed into a twisted version of his former self.”
Her beautiful face managed to look sad for a moment. “Gollum’s heart was twisted by lust and greed long before he gained possession of me. The time he spent with me merely gave root to the seeds of destruction already contained within him.”
“What of the Dark Lord who made you? How has he fared in your company?”
“I was created out of darkness to be his light.”
“And you are as fair as he is dark.”
“And yet I was created out of his darkness.”
She raised herself up on tiptoe and pressed a kiss against his lips. Her taste was that of death and desire. The last words she spoke before she left were – “I must leave you now, but I shall return to finish the dance we have just begun.”
“You are as cold as death, beautiful one.”
She smiled and cocked her head slightly to regard him. “It is the chill of the Anduin that you feel as the Elven boat carries your body to its final resting place.”
Although the specter of death was a constant to those who were warriors, it was still a shock to hear such news.
“I am able to see much Boromir of Gondor. And I see your fate if you allow this quest to destroy me to continue.”
The realization came as to what she was and he would have pulled away in horror, but she was no flesh and blood woman.
Her soft voice continued to speak words that added to the growing chill spreading throughout his body. “Do you truly wish to see me perish in the fires of Mt. Oroduin? Love stayed the hand of Isildur and prevented him from destroying me, while the Peredhil urged him to do otherwise.”
She pressed even closer and laid her head against his shoulder. “The line of Stewards has the blood of Númenor flowing through its veins as well. Why should you stand aside and watch as a Ranger from the North reclaims the Elendilmir and scepter of Annúminas?”
“He is the rightful heir.”
Her voice became a metallic and sibilant whisper. “I could make you the rightful heir.”
An image of the future came to Boromir’s mind and he saw himself on the day of his coronation – richly garbed in robes of gold with a crown of gold upon his head.
“Am I not the perfect crown to rest upon the brow of Boromir, son of Denethor, the newly crowned King of the Reunited Kingdoms?”
As she spoke again, Boromir frowned at the loss of wondrous image of what his future could hold.
“Long have I served a master and would desire to serve you in the same way. I would be your eyes and ears that would whisper to you of all the hidden thoughts and desires of both your allies and adversaries. And I would be your lover and come to you in times such as this and bask in the warmth of your life force.”
A spark of desire curled deep in Boromir’s belly. Though his days were spent largely in the art of war, he had an appreciation for the soft touch of a woman. Yet she was like any other woman he had ever held in his arms. Her beauty easily surpassed the beauty of other women, yet she did not feel as a woman should. In his hands, she felt like a well handled and cherished sword with the imprint of its owner’s hand upon its hilt.
She must have discerned his thoughts for she spoke, “I can be a weapon as well my king. It is within my power to protect you from all harm and danger. You would never fall in battle as you will if you allow the Ringbearer to continue with his journey. And it is within my power to increase the span of your years. Imagine what you could do as a king ruling not for years, but for centuries? The power and knowledge that you would acquire would be unrivaled when compared against the deeds of the kings of old.”
It was a tempting thought, but one tempered by the thought of the fate of her last owner. “It is rumored that you granted the one called Gollum more years than were his due.”
“Yes. It was true.”
“But the price for the pleasure of your company was that he was transformed into a twisted version of his former self.”
Her beautiful face managed to look sad for a moment. “Gollum’s heart was twisted by lust and greed long before he gained possession of me. The time he spent with me merely gave root to the seeds of destruction already contained within him.”
“What of the Dark Lord who made you? How has he fared in your company?”
“I was created out of darkness to be his light.”
“And you are as fair as he is dark.”
“And yet I was created out of his darkness.”
She raised herself up on tiptoe and pressed a kiss against his lips. Her taste was that of death and desire. The last words she spoke before she left were – “I must leave you now, but I shall return to finish the dance we have just begun.”