Sing Me Good-bye

don't worry y'all, i'm still working on the hawk and the raven. take care and review,
love,
Ivory Wolf

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When you awaken, you are tempted to pinch yourself. Or the godlike creature sleeping on his side next to you. The sunrise casts lights upon his face, making him seem almost angelic. His arms are around you as he holds you close to him, almost like a child does a teddy bear.

‘I must be dreaming one hell of a dream,’ you think. You smile. ‘Nothing wrong with turning a dream to my favor.’ You run your fingers through his hair. You are surprised to find how soft it is.

He sighs. His green eyes open. Before he can say anything, you kiss him.

You enjoy the sensation of feeling of his lips against yours. You twirl your fingers in his hair and pull him closer. He is slow to kiss back, almost fearful he’ll scare you off.

As if.

You wrap a leg around his waist and rub yourself against him. He gasps. He immediately takes control. He kisses you back passionately, pushing you so he’s halfway over you.

His tongue licks your lips. You happily open your mouth, granting him access. His tongue sweeps into your mouth. You lick his tongue and nibble on it. He makes a sound in the back of his throat.

He grabs your ass. You moan, feeling him grinding against you. One of his sinful hands dances up your shirt and caresses your breast. You pant in his mouth. Two can play this game. You untangle one of your hands from his head. Your hand trails down his body. You rub his erection outside of his pants. He thrusts into your hand.

As soon as it’s there, it’s gone. He releases you and rolls away, showing you his back.

You are panting, horny, and confused. Why did he stop? This is your dream damn it and you want some!

Then it hits you.

You’re not dreaming. Shit.

You half expect him to yell at you. “I apologize for the way I acted. It was not proper. Please do not wake me up like that again,” he says. His voice is hoarse, causing you to throb. “I do not trust myself to be a gentleman when you do that.”

The statement knocks the breath from you. He’s blaming himself for what you did! That’s crazy! You kissed him first! It’s not like he forced you or anything. Does he realize this?

You look around and see everyone is still sleeping. You touch Boromir’s back. “You shouldn’t apologize, I should,” you say. “I didn’t think kissing you would upset you.”

He faces you. “I would gladly be awoken like that everyday for the rest of my life,” he says passionately. “But no woman should feel obligated to do such a thing.”

“You make it sound like I didn’t enjoy it or something,” you say. “I happen to like kissing… among other things.”

Boromir blushes. “I did not think women liked such things,” he says.

You laugh. “Sure, and I was moaning just for my amusement.” He tries to turn from you. You grab his face and close the distance between you.

He turns his head so you kiss his cheek. “Please, don’t tempt me,” he begs. He gets up and walks into the woods before you can stop him.

“He doesn’t trust himself,” Gandalf says as he rises from his bedroll. “That will be his downfall.”

You blush. “I didn’t realize anyone else was awake,” you mutter.

“I doubt you were paying much attention when you had other things on your mind.” He laughs. He sits on a log and takes out his pipe. He pats a spot beside him. You sit and stretch out your legs.

“What do you mean by being his downfall?” you ask.

He explains the ring to you and their mission to destroy it. He then tells you how Boromir has been tempted more than once by the ring.

“I think you were a godsend,” he says. “You were meant to save Boromir’s soul.”

“That’s an extraordinary thing to say, especially to someone you don’t know,” you say.

“This is true, but my intuition hasn’t failed me yet,” he says. He puffs his pipe as he studies you. His pondering ceases when his eyes brighten, as though he’s pleased with whatever he sees. He blows out a smoke that resembles a horn. “Are you willing to take on personal mission? One that will involve only you and our endangered friend?”

You stare into the trees. You don’t know what to say. If you say yes then you’ll force yourself to go through with it until the end. If you say no then you’ll feel guilty for it. What mission is it? You have a feeling he won’t tell you unless you say yes.

“Yes.” You meet his eyes and see the sparkle in them. “What is it?”

He sets the pipe aside. He leans in as his glance flickers to the others. “You are to keep Boromir from the ring by any means possible,” he says. “Whether it’s suddenly fighting with him or. . . other things, I don’t care. Pride and fear of embarrassing yourself must leave now. As long as he is kept from the ring then the fellowship will stay together. The second he tries to steal it, the fellowship will fall. Do you understand?”

You feel the burden settle on your shoulders. “I do.”

Branches snap. Boromir breaks through the line of trees, somewhat relaxed. ‘Looks like someone found release,’ you think. You lower regions throb, reminding you what you were doing but a moment ago.

“Where are we going next, Gandalf?” Boromir asks. He sits on the other side of the wizard. He won’t meet your gaze.

“Caradhras,” he answers. “I do not wish to go through Moria unless I have to.”

“What is Caradhras?” you ask.

“Caradhras is a mountain,” Boromir answers. “One covered with ice and snow. It will be a hard climb. We will be lucky to make it through in one piece.”

“My, my, aren’t you the positive one,” you say. You realize something. “Wait. Snow and ice? What am I going to use to keep myself warm and covered?”

Gandalf frowns. It’s obvious he has not thought of this.

“You will use my cloak,” Boromir says. “I can stand the cold.”

You snort. “That is stupid and you know it. I’d rather take my chances being an icicle than having you freeze.”

“It is no trouble,” he insists. “If I get cold then I will use my blanket. I promise you I will not freeze.”

You doubt it, but are sure he will pester you until you agree. “Fine,” you say. “Thank you.” Gandalf smiles. He pats your knee before standing. He walks to Aragorn and taps his body with his staff.

“Wassa?” Aragorn mumbles as he looks at Gandalf through the slits of his eyes. You giggle. His hair is sticking out in various directions.

“What’s so funny?” Boromir asks.

“He looks so cute,” you answer. Boromir’s eyes darken at the statement. He must hear something you don’t, because his gaze flickers to Frodo. To the ring. “You know, like a little kid.” You hope adding the last part will get the look out of his eyes, but that’s not the case.

‘Any means possible,’ Gandalf’s words sound in your head.

You move closer to him. Your hand slides up his arm as you tilt your head. “Did I tell you how divine you looked this morning?” you ask. You lean in and kiss your way up his neck. “I wouldn’t mind waking up to the sight more than naught.” You nibble on his ear. Boromir swallows hard. He’s practically panting. The dark look is gone, replaced with one that makes your mouth go dry.

A cough breaks your moment. Gandalf grins while Aragorn blushes. “We are to wake the others and pack camp as soon as possible,” Aragorn says as he stares at the ground. “Could you wake up the hobbits, Turquoise?”

“Sure,” you say. You give Boromir a heated stare and lick his ear. “We’ll continue this later.”

You let your hand slide down his arm. You hop off the log. You are pleased to see the look Boromir gives you. He looks like he wants to grab your hips and-

Taking a shaky breath, you walk to the hobbits. Pip manages to turn upside down in his sleep. His foot is resting against Sam’s cheek.

You chuckle. You shake the one closest to you, Merry. “Wake up,” you say.

He opens his big blue eyes. He blinks. “Are we moving?” he asks.

“Yep, wake your friends. We need to pack camp.”

Merry jumps on his friends. They grunt and groan as they wake. Sam holds marry down while Frodo and Pip tickle him. “Runt!” Pip cries. “You shall pay for your misdeeds.”

“I did nothing any of you wouldn’t do,” Merry says between laughs.

You laugh. “Come on, we need to get going.” Instead of ceasing their horseplay, they somehow manage to get you on the bottom of the dog pile before you realize what’s going on.

You squeal as little hands descend upon your sides. “No! Please! Stop! Have mercy!” Tears trail down your cheeks as you laugh.

“That’s enough little ones,” Gandalf says. “We need to leave.”

The hobbits immediately let you go. You chuckle as you watch them stumble over themselves to pack their things as quickly as they can. Your sides hurt from laughing so much, but you don’t mind. It was well worth it.

Boromir picks you up and set you on your feet. “Are you all right?” he asks. He brushes leaves off of you as he looks you over.

You are tempted to swat his hand away, but doubt Gandalf would approve of it. “I’m fine, thank you,” you say as pleasantly as you can. Is this guy just convinced you’re made of glass or something? “They are light, I didn’t mind.”

He frowns. “Still.”

“Let’s go. We need to take advantage of the daylight,” Gandalf says.

You see the worry in Boromir’s eyes. For some reason, it brings a fluttering sensation to your heart. You smile. You squeeze his arm. “Don’t worry so much about me,” you say. “I’m not as fragile as you think.”

The others are leaving you two behind. You sprint to catch up with them. When you slow to a walk, you feel a cloak fall over your shoulders. Boromir’s arms wrap around you as he pins the broach to keep the cloak secure. You hold your breath.

He leans in so his breath caresses your ear. “You may not be fragile, but that doesn’t mean I can’t worry about you,” he says.

You nearly melt. Gosh, what the hell is wrong with you!? His hands trail over your neck. You shiver. You are disappointed when they fall to his sides. He grins when you look over your shoulder.

“Is something wrong?” he asks innocently.

‘The bastard’s trying to tease me,’ you realize.

Before you can come up with a proper comeback, he slips his arm through yours. “Hurry up, Milady. We don’t want to fall behind.”

His voice is light, but you can see the worry in his eyes. He’s afraid of you rejecting him. Hopefully you’ll be able to get rid of such thoughts. . . and manage to keep your hands off of the hunk.

As if.