The Summons

Title: The Summons
Author (including email): Atanvarne ashnazg9@yahoo.com
Pairing(s): Aragorn/Boromir
Rating: R or NC17
Summary: "Oathbreakers, why have ye come?" "To fulfill our oath and have peace."
Disclaimer: These are the characters of JRR Tolkien. I write for pleasure (theirs and mine) and do not in any way profit from this venture Warning (only if necessary): Men cry. Deal with it.
Author's Note (if needed/desired): Blessings to my beta reader, Janet Elizabeth, the best on this continent! This is my first attempt at fiction of any sort. Please send constructive criticism to me
at ashnazg9@yahoo.com so that I can improve. Suggestions for Aragorn/Boromir or Legolas/Boromir are welcome.

The Summons

The battlefield lay strewn with the bodies of orcs and men. None from the North, fortunately, but men nonetheless. Some, in the last moments of their lives, were moaning, a few were weeping, but it was too late. They would be dead before the setting of the sun.

Legolas sighed deeply and began to search the battlefield for useful arrows with which to refill his quiver. The closer the King of the Dead drew to Mordor, the fiercer the battles had become and he no longer had any ammunition. The Company had crossed the River Gilrain
earlier in the day and had once again routed the forces arrayed against them. The Company of Rangers had suffered no losses, but several of the Rangers had been injured and were being tended to by Aragorn. Legolas sighed again. Aragorn. The Man was clearly driving himself past exhaustion, but was driven by so great a need that he dared not rest. But how effective could The Company be against the Haradrim, Legolas wondered, if none had energy to spend on fighting?

Legolas picked up a few more useable arrows launched by the enemy, glad that so few had actually found targets, and, quiver refilled, went in search of the future king. Perhaps now, with the enemy on the run and their flanks secure, he could convince Aragorn to allow the Company
some rest, if only for a little while. If nothing else, surely Aragorn would allow the horses to be watered and allowed to graze. Aragorn appreciated the value of a good horse, in fact he was a magnificent rider, so surely Aragorn would allow the Company to tend to their steeds.

"Tis but a flesh wound, lord."

"Aye, but I will rest more comfortably knowing there is no poison in the wound. Now,come, and let me tend it. Then see to your horse."

Legolas heard the voices of Aragorn and one of his kinsmen. The elf sighed in frustration as he heard the Dunedan tell the wounded ranger words he himself refused to heed. He entered the small tent that Halbarad had erected for Aragorn's use and noted that it was unlikely that Aragorn would sleep here this night. Several of the more seriously injured were taking up what little space remained. Legolas glanced at the men lying on pallets near Aragorn and saw at once
that while a few men were badly hurt, none had suffered any life-threatening wounds. The worst of the injured had a couple of broken ribs, but the warrior had been wrapped tightly with bandages and was beginning to breathe more easily.

"Aragorn," Legolas began.

"Are you injured? Where? Come, show me," Aragorn said with some alarm. The elf had proven himself to be indispensable in battle and Aragorn feared what his loss would do to their figg stg strength.

"No, I am not injured. I am fine. See?" Legolas said, smiling gently and turning in a circle before the Man. Legolas knew that the only way Aragorn would be satisfied was to see the truth of his words. Aragorn knew that most of the Rangers would vouch for their own readiness for combat, even if holding one of their detached limbs while they spoke. "I came to speak with you. You have seen to your kin and the rest of the company. You must see to yourself. Please, Aragorn, take some rest."

Aragorn looked steadily at the elf. "Look I so weary to your eyes? So worn that Legolas Greenleaf would counsel me to rest?" Legolas gazed back, in secret alarm at Aragorn's appearance. His grey-hued face was lined with weariness and doubt. The set of his shoulders and haggard appearance told Legolas more than Aragorn intended. It was clear that strength of will was the only thing keeping Aragorn on his feet. Legolas looked more intently at Aragorn, and saw in the depth of the Ranger's grey eyes a deep and abiding grief in addition to the tiredness Aragorn had begun to wear like a cloak.

"You look dreadful, but not so much as your enemies," Legolas replied, "but I am more concerned for the horses. We need time to water and graze them. Arod is beginning to stumble and I begin to fear he may not long endure without more care."

"See to the horses then, Legolas, all of them, including mine. Tell the men to take some time for a meal then send Elladan, Elrohir and Halbarad to me. I need to take counsel with them."

"Will you then take some rest for yourself?"

Aragorn read the concern in Legolas' deep eyes and nodded his assent. "If for no other reason than to allay your fears, Legolas. I will rest once I see the day's work done." Aragorn turned his attention to the men resting in the tent and went to tend the one who still appeared to be in pain.

Legolas watched as Aragorn turned toward his kinsman, then he left the tent and went over to a small fire that Gimli had started. He was pleased to see that Gimli had some meat roasting on a spit over the fire. It had been several days since they had eaten much in the way of
food and he was ravenously hungry. The smell of roasting meat drew the attention of several of the Company, including the members with whom Aragorn wished to speak. The elf relayed Aragorn's message, then Legolas said to the pair of elves, "Please keep the council short so that Lord Aragorn may take some rest before we depart. He is more weary than he knows."

Elrohir turned his sharp grey eyes on the younger elf. Legolas was suddenly reminded of Elrond Half-elven and noted how very much alike father and son were. "May I speak with you before I take council with Aragorn," Elrohir asked the silvan elf. "I sense that Aragorn is burdened by more than the battle at hand. I seek guidance from one who has traveled a long road with him."

Legolas gestured towards the river and said, "We have some time, I think, before Aragorn finishes with caring for the wounded. Walk with me a while and I will tell you all I know."

The two elves began walking toward the river. The raven-haired elf from Rivendell blended into the shadows of the trees, but the glimmer of moonlight reflected off the silvery tresses of the Mirkwood prince. "I do not know if you are aware," Elrohir began, "that Aragorn
was raised in my father's house. I have known him all the years of his life. When my kin and I first arrived in Rohan to join forces with you, it appeared to me that Aragorn was bearing some great burden, but I believed that the outcome of this war was weighing heavily on his mind. But he seemed even more changed after we reached the Stone of Erich and he summoned the Grey Host." Legolas said nothing but glanced at Elrohir to read the expression on his face.

"I have fought many battles with Elessar, the Lord Aragorn. He is a very capable swordsman and has led the Rangers of the North into many engagements. But I tell you true, Legolas, if not for your skill with a bow and that dwarf's prowess with an axe, Aragorn would have been killed several times over. He sees to his men, as he always has, but he no longer sees to himself. Aragorn has been set upon one path, the restoration of the Kingdom of Gondor, his entire life, but now, when the end is so near, it is as if he has found the journey not worth making. So I ask you, what happened after the Fellowhship left Lothlorien? Galadriel mentioned nothing that would account for this change in him. I fear for him, Legolas."

Legolas inhaled deeply, wondering if confiding in Elrohir would make matters worse. It was true that Elrohir had known Aragorn longer, but Legolas did not know the nature of the relationship between the two from Rivendell. "I beg your indulgence for a moment, but I must ask you a question about Imladris before I can fully relate to you his story."

Elrohir seemed startled by this request. "I will tell you what you need to know," he stated.

Reflecting on the relationship between Aragorn and Boromir caused Legolas to think back to the Elder Days of his people. In his father's kingdom, elves who desired a union that would survive into Valinor engaged in a ritual bonding. Gender was unimportant to bondmates, as
bonded couples had a relationship deeper than that of physical union. As the elves travelled west over the sea, the practice began to fade. The wood-elf did not know if this ritual was unique to his people or if it existed outside the Woodland Realm, but if Aragorn was familiar with the concept it would resolve some questions in his mind.

"In Mirkwood, not many of my kindred engage in the bonding rituals of the Elder Days. Is it thus in Rivendell?" Legolas asked cautiously.

"Fewer now than in the past, but the practice continues. I know of several bonded couples." Elrohir looked askance at Legolas. "Why are you asking of bonding?"

Legolas persisted. "But the practice would not be unknown to Aragorn?"

Elrohir searched his memory. Had any of Elrond's people become bondmates while Aragorn resided in Imladris? He was uncertain. "I know of none who undertook bonding during Aragorn's time with us, but I cannot state with any certainty whether Aragorn knows of this practice or not. Certainly he knows of our ways in other matters. How does this affect Aragorn?"

The two elves continued to walk toward the river as Legolas began to tell Elrohir what he knew of the events that had led Aragorn to such despair. "Right after we left Imladris Aragorn and Boromir began to compete against each other for primacy within the Fellowship. There was a genuine tension between the two of them, and for a while we weren't certain if they would destroy each other before Sauron had a chance. Mithrandir finally grew exasperated with them and ordered them to hunt, then bound them together so that if they were to be successful they would have to work together." Legolas' expression hardened at the memory of the earliest days of the Fellowship when the rivalry between the men threatened the success of the Quest.

The seven members of the Fellowship had spent an uneasy day waiting for the men's return, and were heartened to see that whatever animosity lay between them appeared to have been put to rest during their forage for food. In truth, it had been a close thing for Boromir had nearly killed the Ranger during a ferocious struggle.

Aragorn, frustrated by the young captain's enmity, had intended to force the issue between the two of them in a manner certain to shock the younger man, and had determined he would use whatever tactics the situation seemed to require, but would cease immediately if Boromir showed any sign of surrender. Boromir had indeed been startled by Aragorn's unexpected intimacy, as the Ranger had intended, but they were both stunned when Boromir returned the kiss with deep passion. A spark had kindled at that moment which threatened to consume them both. Both men were disconcerted by this unforeseen development and mutually decided to pretend it never happened.

"When they returned, we could see immediately that they had reached an understanding of some sort. There was a change in the way they regarded each other, but instead of having found mutual respect, the old tension had been replaced by new undercurrents." Legolas stopped walking while he considered his next words. "I watched them carefully over the next few days, Elrohir, and noticed where before each was set upon bettering the other, now there was an exaggerated formality between the two of them. It was as if they suddenly feared something in the other. But at the same time, they were both very aware of each other. Aragorn would watch Boromir intently when he thought no one was looking. And Boromir would do the same."

Legolas looked at Elrohir intently to see if the older elf had reached the same conclusion he had those many weeks ago. The silvan elf's expression softened as he thought back to the men's transparent attempts to hide their growing relationship from themselves.

"About a week later, we had again grown low on supplies and Mithrandir was concerned that if the snows had hit the mountains earlier than we had anticipated we would not reach the Redhorn Gate. I do not know precisely what happened during the hunt, but they became inseparable. Aragorn and Boromir began sleeping next to one another, where before they set themselves as far away from the other as possible. When we reached the pass over Caradhras, they no longer needed words for speech. A glance told the other all that was needed." Legolas glanced at Elrohir and saw that he was coming to the same conclusion Legolas had some weeks back.

"In Moria," Legolas continued, "Aragorn and Boromir covered each other's backs andfought as one. By the time we had reached Lothlorien, it was clear to me that they had become bondmates. No," Legolas
said, anticipating Elrohir's question, "there was no ritual. I do not think one would have been necessary in any case. They are not elven kind. In fact, I have not heard of this happening between Men before, which is why I asked about Imladris."

"I do not know if Men bond as we do, Legolas, but it appears from what you are telling me that their union possessed similar traits. Bondmates, it is said, breathe as one," Elrohir said, the concern evident in his voice.

"Now we come to the difficult part, Elrohir." An expression of pain flitted across the handsome elf's face. The memory was still new, the pain still fresh. It had been mere weeks since the breaking of the Fellowship and Legolas was loath to relive it. "Aragorn had been aware since their first meeting the pull the Ring had on Boromir. After we departed Lothlorien, Boromir became obsessed with the Ring. Aragorn was fully aware of the power the Ring was exerting on Boromir, but could do nothing to lessen it. The work of Sauron, I surmise." Legolas' thoughts turned toward Frodo and Sam and wondered again if they yet lived.

"We traveled upon the Anduin to Parth Galen where Boromir succumbed to the Ring and attacked Frodo." Elrohir's eyes closed in dismay over this news. "Aragorn, as would be expected, was both angry and hurt by Boromir's actions and sent Boromir alone to guard Merry
and Pippin while he searched for Frodo. We were then attacked by several companies of orcs. It was chaos, Elrohir. The halflings had scattered and orcs were everywhere. Gimli, Aragorn and I were beset by scores of orcs when suddenly we heard the Horn of Gondor sound from a distance away." Legolas felt his throat tighten at the memory. His voice sounded choked. "Aragorn ran immediately over to where Boromir was fighting, but he arrived too late. Boromir had several arrows in his chest and had fallen near a tree. When I got to them, I thought they had both been slain, but I was wrong. Aragorn was kneeling beside Boromir's body and kissing his brow. Tears were on his face and he was very pale."

Elrohir considered the younger elf for a moment. He was startled by the depth of emotion in Legolas' voice. Elves seldom expressed deep emotion, their longevity had made it much less likfor for events to make an indelible impression on their hearts. "I do not believe Aragorn knew until that moment the depth of his bond with Boromir. He has not been the same since that day at Parth Galen. We had no time to bury Boromir or to do much more than send his body to the Falls of Rauros. We followed the orcs who had captured Merry and Pippin from Rauros to Rohan by foot for many days. We then traveled from Rohan to Helm's Deep, then to Isengard, back to Rohan where you joined us. In all that time, he has not grieved." Legolas turned and faced Elrohir. "Boromir's death is destroying him."

Elrohir nodded. "I understand things better now. I, too, will keep watch over Aragorn. Do not forget, Legolas, he was raised in my father's house. I will not let him come to harm." Ehrohir grasped Legolas' arm in farewell, then went off to locate Elladan and Halbarad for their upcoming council with the future King.

After he had eaten Gimli's roasted meat, Legolas walked over to the surround the men had hastily erected for their horses. The equine smell was pleasing to Legolas and he looked forward to spending time with Arod and Brego. Grooming the horses was relaxing work and he
wanted to forget the travails of the past few days. Legolas found some cloth in one of the packs and began to rub down Arod. The horses, he was sorry to notice, had not settled. The presence of the Dead could be felt by these sensitive animals and the demands their masters had placed on them had been severe. Night had fallen and the air was growing heavy with mist. The horses seemed more nervous than they should be, Legolas thought, as Arod shied away from him once again.

"Legolas."

The elf turned at hearing his name whispered, but seeing no one turned his attention back to the chestnut stallion. Arod whinnied and stomped the ground as Legolas continued his ministrations. Legolas bent to inspect Arod's front hoof. The horse had been limping, mildly, and Legolas checked to make certain no stones were lodged in the horse's foot.

"Legolas," the voice breathed again.

He stood and turned once more, and looked intently around the paddock. He was still the only person in the area, but he was finding it harder to shake off the sense of another's presence. The hair on the back of his neck began to rise and Legolas stepped away from Arod's side. There was no question the horse was becoming agitated, though he could not find the reason for Arod's fear. Legolas moved away from the paddock into a small stand of nearby trees, then listened intently for the sound of approaching orcs. His hand went of its own accord to the hilt of his knife.

"Legolas, I am here." The voice sent chills down the elf's spine. The voice was unmistakably that of Boromir. Legolas immediately dismissed the thought as impossible, but on reflection, turned toward the direction where the Dead were assembled. In the darkness he could
just make out the familiar shape of a man he had once known well. The figure was striding toward him, the gait told him immediately that the impossible had happened. Boromir had come.

"Boromir? How have you come to be here?" Legolas spoke tentatively to the apparition that was now before him. "We have missed you, my friend. HE has missed you." Boromir turned in the direction of small fire where Aragorn and his advisors were still engaged in
discussion. The expression on his face was inscrutable. He turned back to Legolas.

"Did you not hear Aragorn summon the Oathbreakers, Legolas? I was among those called, and although I was not one of the men who broke their oath to Isildur, I broke my oath to Isildur's heir, and to Frodo and the rest of the Council, Legolas. Did I not say 'You carry the fate of us all, little one. If this is indeed the will of the Council, then Gondor will see it done.' But I did not, Legolas. Instead, I tried to steal the Ring, just as you and Aragorn feared. I broke my oath, Legolas, and was thus bound to come when he summoned the oathbreakers."
olasolas was stunned at the grief and guilt he heard in the voice of Boromir. "But you were forgiven, Boromir. Aragorn forgave you. I was there. Did you not hear his words to you? 'Be at peace, Son of Gondor.' Then he wept, and his tears were terrible to behold. He has had no time to mourn, Boromir."

"I have watched him, Legolas. All this long road, since he summoned us, I have watched him. Did you know he searches the faces of the Dead? Did you know he weeps still? But I have not been able to come to him, until now." Boromir faced the elf, tears welling in his green eyes, and whether he was mourning for himself or for Aragorn none could say. Indeed, it was unlikely Boromir himself knew.

The horses continued to move restlessly throughout the surround so Legolas started to move toward the Dead, gathered near the tree line north of the meadow. In the grey mists of night Legolas could see the shadow-men moving through the trees biding their time until called to
action again by Isildur's Heir. As the pair moved further away from the horses they began to quiet. Legolas turned to Boromir and said, "Wait for me here. I must find someoo teo tend to Brego. We have much to discuss, Boromir, and I would not waste a minute, but I must see this done for Aragorn."

"What did you mean, Boromir, that you could not come until now?" Legolas questioned upon his return. The ways of the Dead were completely unknown to him. Elves did not die, unless they were killed in battle, and Legolas had little experience with the death of elves, much less the death of men.

"I am not certain. I have marched with you since he summoned me. I do not know how I was called or where I came from to get there, but tonight I am being sent to Aragorn. There is a difference tonight. I feel . . . alive. There is no other way to explain this." Boromir paused, then reached out a hand and with the back of his fingers gently caressed Legolas' cheek. "Can . . .can you feel me touch you?" The hope in Boromir's voice was almost more than Legolas could bear.

The elf nodded in mute astonishment. He had felt the warmth of a touch along his cheek and a small frisson of excitement coursed through him. Legolas reached a hand toward Boromir and was startled to see it tremor ever so slightly. Never, in his nearly three thousand year
existence, had Legolas' hand shook. Legolas ran his fingers through Boromir's hair, pulling it slightly where it was tangled, and tears began to form in his eyes.

"You live! I do not, cannot, understand this." Legolas looked at his friend closely. The being he saw before him was luminous, not completely a physical presence, but more than a spectral apparition. Boromir looked translucent and seemed to radiate a pale light. Legolas glanced toward where the Dead had gathered. It was apparent that Boromir had more substance than those ghostly beings, but far less than that of the Company of Rangers.

"No, not alive. Never that. I cannot die again. But I am here because he called me. Legolas, you must allow me to help him. Aragorn cannot continue to carry this burden of guilt from my actions at Parth Galen. My actions were my own. I chose my fate Legolas, but I must be
certain that Aragorn chooses his. He cannot be allowed to become less than he is because of me."

Legolas understood. While there was a bond between all the members of the Fellowship, there was a deeper relationship between Aragorn and Boromir. Legolas had known of the love they bore for one another, indeed, had envied it at one point, but recognized it for what it was, a genuine bonding of two souls. Legolas remembered the battle with the cave troll in Moria and how Aragorn had slain the orcs threatening his lover. He remembered the harsh words the two
had exchanged after leaving Lothlorien and listened to Aragorn's anguished regret at having said them. "What must I do?"

Boromir and Legolas walked through the meadow and discussed the salvation of Aragorn. Night deepened and the air was heavy with mist, with anger, with resolve. The pair turned and looked at the small fire where Aragorn was speaking with his councillors. Even from this distance the exhaustion was evident. "Can you arrange for him to be alone? I do not know how much time has been given me, but I must see him. That much is certain." Boromir spoke with quiet intensity.

Legolas thought for a moment. "He has given over his tent to the wounded so it appears that he plans to remain with his kin." He paused. "Elrohir knows of Aragorn'rdenrden and may be able to assist us. There is a clearing back near the river, within the stand of sycamores. Do you know the place?"

Boromir nodded. He remembered seeing a small glen near the Grey Host, but had not investigated it. It seemed far enough away from both companies to suit his purpose. "I know of the place, but you will have to devise a plan to get him there. I will wait, forever if necessary." Boromir's face gave no indication of his emotions. "What about you, Legolas? Do you not need rest yourself? Or are you saying that the elves rumored reputation for endurance will stand you in good stead?" Legolas was touched by the concern evident in Boromir's eyes as well as the humor there. Truly, the experience of death had changed this man.

"Aragorn will be at the clearing. I will make certain neither of you are disturbed this night." He paused. "I do not know how to say this properly, but Boromir, be careful. The shock of seeing you ... " The young captain nodded in understanding.

Legolas embraced Boromir gently, then walked toward the fire where Aragorn sat in conversation with his men. As Legolas approached, the four men stood and began to disperse and it was clear that decisions about the morrow had been made. Legolas spoke briefly with Elladan and learned that Aragorn had decided that the Company would ride toward Pelargir shortly after the moon set, roughly six hours hence. The men were to spend the hours preparing themselves in whatever manner they deemed appropriate, whether resting, eating or sharpening wea. A. As for himself, Aragorn had spotted a small clearing nearer the river where he planned to take rest undisturbed. He spotted Legolas approaching and managed a wan smile for his friend.

"How are the horses," Aragorn asked. "Have they been tended to your satisfaction?"

"They were nervous when I last checked. They are aware of The Dead and do not settle well with them so near." Aragorn started to speak but was interrupted. "They will be fine. Rest easy, all will be well come morning." Aragorn noted with some surprise that the elf looked more confident and happier than he had at their earlier conversation and wondered at the transformation. Surely tending the horses had not wrought this change.

"Has something transpired during the last hour? You seem more relaxed. Pray, give me your counsel. I could use some good news." Aragorn stretched, then yawned. "I am weary beyond all recall. Legolas, will you stand the first watch? And if possible, keep both men and orcs at bay? I will rest, I promise, if I can be left alone for a brief time."

"Alone? Where do you intend to rest that you will be alone?" Legolas asked.

"There is a small clearing not far from the river. I noticed it as we crossed and it seems to be well situated." Aragorn gazed at his friend. "You did not need to remind me to rest. I cannot continue unless I do, if only for a short while."

Legolas smiled inwardly, gladdened that he would not have to resort to persuading Aragorn to rest apart from the men. The clearing was indeed well situated and stood but a small distance away from the encampment of the Company, far enough that anyone needing Aragorn's attention would be dissuaded from casual conversation based on proximity alone, yet near enough that Aragorn could be summoned within a few moments if trouble arose.

"I rest easier knowing you have finally decided to see reason. Truly, though you are the most elven of Men, you are not an elf. Will you ever learn this? We do not expect you to possess our endurance and we do not see you as being weaker for it. Now, come. The clearing is not far and the more time we spend in speech, the less time you will have to rest." Legolas started off across the field toward the clearing but Aragorn did not follow. Instead, he started back toward the river where the Dead were gathered.

Legolas ran lightly over to Aragorn, then fell into step with him. Neither spoke. It was clear to Legolas that Aragorn had set himself upon some final task that must be completed before he would allow himself the luxury of sleep. As they approached the Dead, Boromir's words echoed in his mind, 'Did you know he searches the faces of the Dead? Did you know he weeps still?' And like a captain of that ephemeral legion, Aragorn walked down the line of the Dead,looking into the faces of the spectres he saw there. Legolas walked alongside his friend and noted with dismay that the words of Boromir were true. As they approached the end of the gathering, Legolas saw tears streaming unchecked down Aragorn's face. The expression of pure anguish on Aragorn's face caused Legolas to inhale sharply, but Aragorn did not notice the reaction of the elf.

As they continued past the Dead toward the clearing, Aragorn dropped suddenly to his knees, put his face in his hands and sobbed. The harshness of the sound, the utter despair in Aragorn's voice tore at Legolas. Never had he been a witness to such an outpouring of pain and grief. Kneeling in front of Aragorn, Legolas placed his arms around the Man and attempted to lift him to his feet. Aragorn attempted to rise, but collapsed onto the grassy meadow where he lay
still.

Legolas turned him onto his back and saw that tears continued to flow from Aragorn's eyes. Legolas lifted Aragorn in his arms and carried him as though he were a small child to the clearing where Boromir was waiting. Legolas noted with some shock that Boromir had outfitted the clearing with a fire, a small kettle of water and a camp bed. Boromir rushed to Legolas, who transferred the burden into Boromir's waiting arms.

"How did you accomplish all this?" Legolas asked. Boromir had laid Aragorn on the bed then turned to the elf.

"I found a few members of our number who agreed to go back to the town and find someone willing to assist me. Willing, did I say? Most fled at our approach, but an innkeeper shouted his defiance at his own fear. We ordered him to bring the things you see here 'in the name of the King,' which csed sed him and his friends greatly." Boromir smiled grimly. "It is unusual to have men scream and flee at one's approach. I find it distasteful." He turned back to the unmoving figure on the bed, and his eyes softened. The Captain walked over to the fire where
a kettle was heating water from the river. He took a cloth and dipped it into the steaming pot, then seated himself on the bed and began wiping the grime and tears from Aragorn's face.

Legolas placed a hand on Boromir's shoulder and squeezed gently. Boromir continued to bathe Aragorn's face. "You will be undisturbed for the next few hours. I cannot guarantee anything past that since Aragorn has ordered the Company to move out upon the setting of the
moon. I will bring some food for him. When he wakes, he may be hungry."

Boromir nodded in assent and continued his ministrations. He looked at Aragorn closely for the first time since the events at Parth Galen and saw immediately that the last weeks had been terribly difficult for his liege. There was more grey in his hair and new lines of worry and care were etched on that rugged face. He had become thin and appeared to Boromir to have lost some of his coloring. Boromir began removing some of Aragorn's accouterments - his sword and knife, his breastplate and mail - then smiled softly at seeing his own vambraces strapped to Aragorn's forearms.

Legolas returned with the food and helped Boromir remove the rest of Aragorn's garments until he was dressed only in his tunic and leggings. "I will tell you when the Company begins to stir," and disappeared silently into the darkening night.

Boromir crossed back to the kettle and wetted the cloth again. Returning to the bed, he began cleaning Aragorn's hands and wondered if he had ever seen them completely clean. Probably not, he mused. Aragorn had lived most of his life in the wild or in war. The dirt of
many lands was by now permanently embedded in his skin.

As he contemplated his next actions, Boromir was suddenly beset with anxiety. He knew that the first few minutes when Aragorn awoke would be crucial. How could he explain to Aragorn what he could not explain to himself? He had no idea how he came to be here, except
that Aragorn had called. As far as Boromir could tell, he had been sent to Aragorn, but by whom, or what? He knew instinctively that his time with Aragorn was limited, in fact measured by hours, not days, but how he knew that was another impenetrable mystery. This was not a speech he could plan in advance. Everything he said, everything he did would be determined by the unconscious man on the bed.

"Aragorn," he said softly. "Aragorn, wake up," he repeated. He stroked Aragorn's forehead and continued to speak in a soft, gentle voice. He leaned over and kissed Aragorn softly on the lips and spoke again. He was pleased to note a subtle change in Aragorn's breathing.

"Aragorn, my love, awake," he said with gentle insistence.

Aragorn's eyes fluttered and he looked around with a glazed, unfocused expression.

"Aragorn," Boromir repeated gently.

The Ranger brought his eyes into focus and saw a vision of Boromir. "Am I dead? " He sat up and stared into the familiar green eyes of the Man who had meant more to him than any human in Middle-Earth.

"Boromir?" he choked hoarsely.

Boromir looked into the face of his lord. The tears that had merely threatened when he spoke with Legolas now fell like rain, and he knew they fell for Aragorn. "No, my love, it is not you who is dead. But it was you who summoned me to you at the Stone of Erech."

Aragorn felt himself on the verge of panic. He was in an unfamiliar bed, in a vaguely familiar glen with no clear memory of how he got there and speaking with a dead Boromir. Aragorn leapt off the pallet and stared at the ephemeral being still seated there. His eyes were wide and for the first time Boromir saw fear in them. Aragorn instinctively reached for his sword and was dismayed to find it missing. He looked around wildly for his weapon, then he caught
sight of Boromir's face and read only distress there. "Boromir?" he repeated.

Boromir nodded without losing eye contact. "You called me, lord. I came."

Aragorn felt his chest tighten. He could scarcely breathe. "How is this possible? You died at Parth Galen, and I wanted to die as well."

"The last thing I remember is calling you 'my king' and knowing that I had reached the end of life. The next thing I remember was being summoned out of darkness unlike any I had known and finding myself in a company of shadow men knowing that I was counted among their number, but that I was there for some other purpose. I have spent the days from that day until this watching you command the living and dead, but the time to appear before you was not deemed ripe until this night." Aragorn said nothing, so Boromir continued. "I appeared first to Legolas. He has been my ally in this matter. The elves have no fear of us so I knew I could approach him. He loves you, Aragorn, and he has your interests at heart. Through Legolas, I learned that I do have some substance, that I am not merely form, although I scarcely believed it to be possible." Boromir stood abruptly and walked across the clearing.

Aragorn's thoughts raced through his mind. Summoned? Boromir? By whom? He he he knew, summoned the Oathbreakers at the Stone of Erech, and while it was true that he searched their number for some sign of Boromir, he did not believe that he would ever be given a
chance to speak, indeed, to touch this man again. He looked at Boromir, and recognized immediately that he had braced himself for rejection. On shaking legs Aragorn strode to where Boromir was standing, placed his right hand on Boromir's left shoulder and turned him around to face him.

"I have been given another chance, Boromir, to say to you all that I have wished I had said. I would give all that I have to unsay the angry words I spoke to you near Amon Hên, and I should not have sent you alone to guard the halflings. You . . . died because of me. Can you ever forgive me?" The pain in Aragorn's eyes spoke of the truth of his beliefs, but Boromir was confused.

"Forgive you? There is nothing for me to forgive, but much for me to beg your forgiveness. You were right about me, about the Ring. We could have shared many years together, you as King and me as your Steward, if I had but listened to your counsel. My pride, my stubbornness, has cost us all, and yet you ask forgiveness of me?" Boromir choked back a sob. "How can you ever forgive me?"

A wry smile passed quickly across Aragorn's face. Clearly, they were at cross purposes again, but it was familiar territory for the couple. They had been here before, but had always been able to cross any gulf that separated them. A feeling of mutual trust and respect had made such journeys possible.

"I love you. I have since the day you gave lessons in swordsmanship to Pippin. And the more I learned about you, the more I have loved you. It is so hard to continue without you, Boromir. There is such an emptiness inside. So much of me is caught up in you that your death nearly destroyed me. If it weren't for Merry and Pippin being uredured by orcs I don't think I could have continued."

"Aragorn, do not grieve. I would give anything so you could avoid this pain, but I have nothing left to give." Boromir gathered Aragorn into an embrace and murmured softly into Aragorn's ear, "I exist for you." He then took Aragorn's head in his two hands and kissed him
deeply, running his tongue softly over Aragorn's lips. He looked deeply into Aragorn's grey eyes and read the longing within. Aragorn put his arms around Boromir and held him tightly to him, then began to return Boromir's kiss. The men stood in the clearing, their kisses becoming more violent and more possessive with each passing moment. Boromir broke the embrace and started to undo the clasp of his cloak, then stopped, wondering if it was possible. Could mere echoes of
men remove their garments, or did they somehow become permanently affixed? There was only one way to tell, and continued unfastening his cloak, then let it drop from his shoulders. It remained where it lay, a slightly luminous pile of cloth. Boromir sighed in relief, then continued to divest himself of his outer garments.

Aragorn returned to the bed and waited for Boromir's approach. Boromir quickly joined him, stretched his length along side his lover, then began to run his hands over Aragorn's chest and began kissing him on his jaw, his neck, his shoulder. Boromir removed Aragorn's tunic and started to trace intricate patterns around his nipples and chest with the tips of his fingers. Aragorn's breathing became ragged and it was growing clear that Aragorn was become aroused by Boromir's attentions, as was Boromir himself. Aragorn pulled Boromir's tunic off, and it joined the growing pile of clothing by the bed. Boromir lay atop his lover, his hands wrapped in the Ranger's hair, his mouth tracing a line of wet kisses down his chest and abdomen. He paused
when he reached Aragorn's navel. His tongue burrowed into the small nook it had discovered and slowly circled around in it.

Aragorn's fingers tangled themselves in Boromir's hair and held his lover's head against his stomach. He wrapped his legs around Boromir's knees, arched his back and rubbed his growing erection against Boromir's chest. Boromir captured one of Aragorn's legs between his own and massaged his own tumescence against Aragorn's leg.

Boromir returned his attention to Aragorn's mouth and began thrusting his tongue deep inside. Aragorn's tongue fenced madly with Boromir's, then he began to bite at Boromir's lips. The two men became a tangle of limbs, each trying desperately to engulf the other. Aragorn then undid the laces on Boromir's leggings and pulled them down over his engorged lance, which, thus set free, grew immediately larger. Boromir performed the same service for Aragorn, then rotating himself, began to massage Aragorn's manhood with his tongue, first encircling the tip then flicking along the warm, hard shaft. Aragorn shifted onto his side and took the length of Boromir into his mouth, then began to slide his lips along the shaft. In reply, Boromir's tongue increased
its gyrations around the hot, throbbing organ it was attending. Both men began to moan softly as the intensity of their love play increased.

Using all the skill he possessed, Boromir increased the pressure on Aragorn's rod and began to bring him to a climax. Aragorn protested, "No, Boromir, wait. It's too soon." Boromir ignored the protests, took Aragorn fully into his mouth, sucking and using his tongue to full effect. Aragorn shuddered as he released his essence into Boromir who drank it down hungrily. A languorous feeling spread through Aragorn's limbs as he relaxed into the afterglow of their
exertions. He spoke softly, "Why did you end this so soon? The Company will not move out for several hours. Tis my wont to spend those hours caught up in you. Why do you deny me this?"

"When was the last night you slept? When was the last time you closed your eyes and did not see Parth Galen? You are my liege and I your servant, but in this, Aragorn, you must listen to my counsel. I give you my word that I will awaken you before the Company departs." Boromir looked deeply into his lord's eyes, dark with longing. The bond between the pair was nearly palpable in its intensity and for a moment, Middle Earth no longer existed for either of them. Aragorn's breath caught in his throat as he returned Boromir's gaze and it seemed he felt time stand still. Both men leaned forward, then ever so slowly, ever so sweetly, their lips met in a kiss that reunited two souls. They kissed again, then again, and again.

Aragorn said simply, "Stay with me while I sleep."

Boromir picked up Aragorn's cloak from near the bed. Aragorn settled himself between the younger man's thighs, wrapped his arms around his lover and rested his head on his lover's broad chest. Boromir then spoke to Aragorn of Gondor in the days of his youth and recounted episodes from his childhood involving his brother, Faram Ara Aragorn heard Boromir's voice rumbling deep in his chest and was soothed by the sound and within moments was asleep.

Legolas had been true to his word. He had maintained the watch a discreet distance from the clearing, discreet for the hearing of men, but none had approached. He became aware that the sounds of love play and conversation had ceased so, with a glance across the field, made his way silently to the glen.

After a short walk through the rowans and tall sycamores Legolas approached the dell where the two men lay. His breath caught in his throat as he gazed upon Aragorn's darker form nestled upon the lighter skin of Boromir, his face relaxed in sleep. Boromir's hand was entwined in Aragorn's hair and lightly stroked his head as the older man slept. Legolas' eyes misted at the scene. Intentionally making a slight sound, Legolas stepped into the clearing.

Boromir's expression did not change as Legolas came into view, nor did his hand fail to maintain its rhythmical caress. He slowly raised his eyes to his elven companion and indicated to Legolas that he should remain quiet. The prince walked over to the couple and gazed upon them, noting the complete lack of shame or remorse. Legolas thought back to earlier days when neither man acknowledged their relationship, even within the Fellowship.

"How is he?" Legolas asked as he approached the men. He noticed with no small amount of satisfaction that Aragorn appeared deep in slumber. He was snoring lightly, more of a purr really, and he looked more relaxed than Legolas could ever recall. He crossed over to the cot and knelt by Aragorn's side. He ran his hand lightly upon the cloak covering his sleeping Captain. Aragorn did not stir at the elf's touch.

"The wall has not yet been breached," Boromir answered in a voice scarcely above a whisper. "Aragorn has always been the most private of men. For as much as he gives of himself, he always keeps a part separate, even from me. I am afraid of what he has locked in the recesses of his heart. So tonight, I must break through his defenses. Perhaps then he will know peace." Boromir let his head drop back and closed his eyes. The coming hours would be difficult for them both. Boromir lifted his head and looked at his friend with a troubled expression. "Are the men asleep? I must be assured that we will not be interrupted before he must depart."

A look of understanding passed between the two. Legolas had an idea of how Boromir planned to push past Aragorn's guard and envied neither man. "The men were nearly as spent as he. Other than those standing watch, everyone is asleep." He paused. "Elrohir, Elladan and I have the watch. Gimli and Halbarad will stand second when we awaken them. I believe Aragorn will have need of us, Boromir, however things go between you. We will be waiting outside the grove, and we will know his time of need."

"How much do Gimli and Halbarad know?" Boromir whispered cautiously.

"Nothing, other than Aragorn is not to be disturbed unless orcs arrive. I have made no mention of your appearance to Gimli. He would not believe me unless he saw you for himself. And I am unable to explain your presence." The voices of the men were no more than a murmur above the night sounds.

"And what of Elladan and Elrohir?"

Legolas hesitated. "I have spoken with Elrohir and he knows my thoughts," Legolas said, referring to the telepathy elves used in times of need or peril. "I do not know what has transpired between him and his brother, but they will come when summoned. They regard Aragorn as a
brother."

Boromir glanced skyward and saw the faint gleam of moonlight through the light fog that had settled over the area like a blanket. The moon was nearing its apex and would start its downward path before much longer. "Give them another couple of hours to sleep before you
awaken them for the next watch. Then make your way here. Avoid being seen if possible. I do not want any to think Aragorn is awake."

Legolas nodded, then asked, "Do you have need of anything?"

"No, I need neither food nor drink. Nor sleep it seems. We will be fine here."

"As you wish." Legolas rose slowly, then bent and gently kissed the top of Aragorn's head. Aragorn stirred slightly, then settled further into Boromir's embrace. Legolas gave Boromir an empathetic smile before he turned and walked silently out of the dell.

Time passed quietly and an air of peace had settled over the field where a ferocious battle had been fought. Fog dampened the sounds of nocturnal animals foraging for what meager food they could gather, but Legolas could hear the muffled sounds of horses snorting in the paddock
across the meadow. Walking through the grass, Legolas gradually became aware of the sounds of men asleep. Here and there a man muttered in his sleep, some snored lightly, others seemed to keep the Dead awake. He could hear the oionaional rattle of mail as men shifted positions as they slept. He saw the sons of Elrond keeping watch though they had hidden themselves well just under the spreading canopy of trees. It was unlikely an approaching enemy would spot either of them before he was spitted by one of their arrows. He drank from his canteen then resumed his post in front of the trees shielding Aragorn's resting place from view and became as difficult to see as the watchers across the field.

Time passed silently in the clearing as well. Boromir was still. His thoughts were quiet and he was at peace with himself. Moonlight painted the scene in a soft light, diffused by the mist hanging in the air. The men within looked to be carved of alabaster and marble. No creature disturbed them, no breeze ruffled their hair. And the moon continued his voyage across the sky.

As though he had been given a signal, Boromir knew the time had come to awaken his liege. He placed his hand between Aragorn's shoulder blades and began to rub along his spine, gently at first, but with gradually increasing pressure. Aragorn began to stir as the sensation seeped into his consciousness. His breathing became faster, and his eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks. He became aware of his head resting on Boromir's chest, feeling the rise and fall of it as
the younger man breathed. Boromir bent one leg as Aragorn began to push himself into a sitting position. The cloak that had been covering him slipped off his shoulders, leaving Aragorn as naked as the day of his birth.

"How do you feel?" Boromir asked softly.

Aragorn yawned, stretched and shook his head vigorously to clear his mind. His slumber, though short, had been restful and Aragorn felt renewed. "I'm hungry," he said, his voice husky with sleep. He looked around for his clothing and reached for his leggings, intending to return to camp to eat. Boromir crossed to the small fire where Legolas had left food warming wrapped in some worn cloth and surrounded with mallorn leaves. Elves seemed to think of everything.

Aragorn turned suddenly as the aroma of roasted meat wafted through the glen, and his stomach spoke of his need for nourishment. Boromir held out the basket and handed Aragorn a flask of water. Next to the basket was a leaf-wrapped wafer of lembas, left in case Aragorn still felt hunger after eating.

Aragorn took the basket, sat back on the cot and began to eat, slowly at first, but more quickly as the flavor hit his taste buds. The meat had dried out a bit, but was still flavorful. Aragorn washed down a mouthful of meat with a large swallow of water, then sighed in
contentment. Rested and fed, he felt a renewed sense of well-being, but he recognized also that a large part of his happiness stemmed from the reappearance into his life of Boromir.

Boromir knelt before Aragorn, his green eyes gazing intently into the grey eyes of the King of the Reunited Kingdoms and presented his sword. "My liege, I pledge thee my fealty. I pledge thee my honor. I pledge thee my undying love. How may I serve thee?"

Aragorn was deeply moved by Boromir's vow. "The moon will be setting in an hour or so. Will you lay with me until you must depart? I want so much to be one with you. I burn with need of you." His voice shook with passion. "I can scarcely breathe with the want of you."

Aragorn stood and pulled Boromir to his feet. He stepped close to his mate and gently caressed his face, running his fingers through the auburn hair of Gondor's son. Boromir grasped Aragorn's hand and pressed a kiss into his palm. Aragorn took Boromir's head within his hands, then kissed him ferociously. Naked desire coursed through him as his tongue plunged into Boromir's open mouth. Boromir returned the kiss with equal passion, content for the time being to allow Aragorn to take the lead. Aragorn's hands drifted down Boromir's chest, his thumbs circling around his nipples, teasing them into small, erect nubs. His mouth followed the line of Boromir's jaw, his breath hot on the young captain's skin, his teeth sharp on his flesh. The King's
hands moved down the captain's back, then massaged the hardened muscles of his flanks.

Boromir felt his manhood begin to harden as his pulse quickened. His hands moved softly down Aragorn's ribs to his waist. One hand passed behind Aragorn to press itself into the small of his back while the other hand dropped to fondle his swelling penis. Boromir dropped to one knee and began to tease the hardening organ with his tongue. Aragorn's fingers tangled themselves into Boromir's hair as he felt his passion rise under his knight's ministrations. Boromir's hands crawled slowly up Aragorn's chest, pinching and teasing at his flesh as they
made their journey to his nipples. Aragorn's knees grew weak as his hot blood rushed through his veins. His pulse throbbed in his penis, his fingertips, his lips, the soles of his feet. He shifted his
weight back and pulled Boromir down on top of him. Through luck more than through calculation, they landed at an angle across the cot, neither breaking contact with the other.

Aragorn clutched Boromir's back and dug into his flesh with his fingernails. His teeth bit into the flesh of the captain's shoulder and his legs wrapped themselves around the back's of his calves. Boromir bent over his liege's chest and worked his nipples with his tongue and teeth. Their lovemaking grew more violent as each man tried intently to possess fully the other, to crawl inside, to join blood and flesh. Boromir reached between their stomachs and grasped Aragorn's
throbbing penis and was rewarded with glistening drops of fluid. Moistening his fingers, he slipped his hand between the two halves of Aragorn's well muscled flanks and adroitly slipped one finger into the opening there.

Aragorn inhaled sharply at the intrusion into his body and moved his legs over Boromir's shoulders to give his lover better access to the portal. Boromir teased at the opening, sliding his finger in as far as it would go, then withdrawing it slightly. One finger joined the other within Aragorn. Beads of sweat appeared on the older man's face, his body glistened as the moisture began to accumulate. A third finger joined the other two and massaged the opening. Aragorn inserted his fingers into his own mouth, then reached down and massaged Boromir's erect manhood and lubricated the tip. He then guided Boromir to the opened passage and trembled in anticipation.

Boromir eased himself into the tight sheath, taking his time, moving in excruciatingly small increments. Aragorn pushed against his organ, attempting to impale himself on the hard shaft, but Boromir backed off slightly, thwarting the attempt. Green eyes met grey eyes and it was immediately clear to Aragorn that he was no longer in charge of the events of this night. His eyes closed slowly as he allowed himself to be swept away by pure sensation. Boromir returned to his
frustratingly slow penetration of Aragorn. Bit by bit he made his way into the tight sheath. Boromir's breath quickened as the pressure increased along his shaft. When he had reached the halfway point, Boromir withdrew nearly completely, then plunged a bit deeper into passage where once again he slowly made his way deeper inside. When he was half again inside, he withdrew again, then plunged a bit deeper. Aragorn thought he would go mad with the wanting. Shivers ran up his spine in anticipation of what was to come.

Boromir then paused and began kissing Aragorn lightly on his lips, each kiss sweeter than the one preceding it. Soft kisses teased Aragorn's senses and it was a moment before he realized that Boromir had begun to move within him in time to the kisses. Slowly, gently, the hm ohm of love was conducted by Boromir, in and out, each stroke a bit deeper than the one before until the full length of the man was moving within the King. And still the kisses continued. Waves of passion began to carry Aragorn away and he began moaning under Boromir's mouth. The kisses ceased as the cries intensified.

Boromir balanced himself elegantly on one hand while the other worked Aragorn's throbbing flesh. Aragorn could barely stand the twin sensations of penetration and stimulation and gasped as he reached his first climax. Boromir never broke his rhythm, but continued to stroke Aragorn within and without. Never had either man continued after the first had spent himself in passion, and Aragorn's eyes fluttered open and sought to make eye contact with his lover. His grey eyes were nearly black with passion and he was amazed at the depth of his
response to his lover. He felt himself begin to approach another peak and cried out, "Boromir!"

As though this were a cue, Boromir lifted his eyes to Aragorn's face. Boromir pushed deep within his liege and pressed against his flesh. Aragorn began to shudder with passion and locked his gaze onto the young captain. Boromir's skin glowed and his eyes were lighted with
love, then slowly his expression began to change to one of infinite sadness. Aragorn, still caught in the throes of another approaching climax, sensed rather than saw the change in his lover. His cries of passion changed to cries of despair. A great tremor ran through his body as he climaxed for the second time, and a storm of grief overtook him.

Boromir withdrew as Aragorn pulled himself into a fetal position, drawing his knees deep into his chest, great sobs wracking his body. The wall had been breached and Aragorn was caught off guard. He no longer had the resources to construct another one, so could no longer
hide from his feelings. Aragorn did not try to regain control of himself and allowed, finally, his sorrow to run unchecked. Boromir wrapped his body around the shaking man, but Aragorn responded by drawing his knees tighter into his chest.

True to his word, Legolas had listened to the sounds coming from the glen and recognized the instant that the sounds of love had turned to sounds of desolation. His thoughts flew across the meadow to Elrond's son, 'Elrohir, it is time. Come quickly.' The two elves made their way silently into the dell, though it was clear that Aragorn would not have heard their approach even if they had been a legion of orcs.

Boromir quickly clothed himself and once again covered Aragorn with his cloak, then stood silently at the foot of the bed. Elrohir paused to see the translucent spectral being in the glen with Aragorn. Legolas had hinted that something like this had happened, but Elrohir was nonetheless disconcerted to see the proof of it here. He could recall no similar circumstance during the long years of his life and was slightly shaken at being confronted with an entirely new situation. Legolas and Elrohir exchanged a glance that confirmed that neither elf was entirely certain of the best course of action. A low keening wail quickly drew their attention to the curled up figure on the cot. It was the sound of infinite suffering.

Legolas moved quickly to the cot and gathered Aragorn into his arms, holding him tightly as his heart rending cries began to lessen. Elrohir moved to the kettle hanging over the small fire and dropped several leaves of various plants into the steaming water. He poured the liquid into a flask and brought it to Legolas, still cradling Aragorn's prostrate form. "It will ease his mind," he said, handing the infusion to Legolas. "I do not know what is in it, but my father insisted I carry these leaves with me. His skill at healing far exceeds my own." Legolas held the flask up to Aragorn's lips, but the Ranger turned his head away.

Legolas murmured to Aragorn, "Telin le thaed. Drink this. It will soothe you. Aragorn lifted his head off Legolas' chest and choked on a mouthful of the fluid. Legolas again held the flask up, and this time Aragorn was able to swallow a small quantity of the tea. Almost immediately Aragorn began to tremble uncontrollably. Elrohir and Boromir grabbed their cloaks and draped them over the shivering Man. Without a word, Boromir unfastened the clasp of Lothlorien, removed Legolas' cloak and wrapped it around Aragorn's legs then resumed his position at the foot of the cot. To Legolas' eyes, the shadow man appeared haggard and drawn, as though this night had cost him more than he had to give.

The elves continued their ministrations into the waning hours of night, chanting together in the silvery tones of elvish. Legolas placed a hand on Aragorn's brow and spoke in a soft commanding tone, "Elessar, tolo dan na ngalad." Aragorn's red, swollen eyelids parted and his gaze landed on Boromir, standing quietly, seemingly drawn into himself, and tears started afresh.

"I cannot... I cannot...I cannot...,"

Aragorn repeated over and over in a voice roughened by the events of the past quarter hour. Wraithlike, Boromir approached his lord and kneeling before him began to speak in a low voice rich with emotion.

"Beloved, think you that this separation will endure forever? Have you
so little faith in us, in our love? Heart's love, first love, do not despair. We are parted for a span of years alone. My oath to you endures. 'My heart to your heart. My flesh to your flesh. My soul to your soul. I give to thee the protection of my body and the endurance of my love until the world is remade.' Believe! As I carry your love within me, likewise do you carry mine, and it will never leave you. I will not say do not grieve, for not all tears are an evil."

Aragorn quieted and remained still, so still that Boromir wondered if he had heard his entreaty, or if having heard it, was rejectin. H. He waited patiently for Aragorn to give him some sign that he understood or, at the least was aware of him. Aragorn's breathing was no longer ragged and he slowly stretched out his long limbs. He sat up, still steadied by Legolas' arm across his back, his hand firmly under Aragorn's arm.

"Rise, Boromir," he said in an unsteady voice.

"Elrohir, wordword, if you please." The exchange of glances between the two elves and the captain went unnoticed by Aragorn. Elrohir crossed to the pile of Aragorn's belongings and drew Aragorn's sword from its sheath. Aragorn fitted his cloak around his shoulders and slid off the cot to kneel before Boromir.

Boromir looked into the grey eyes of Aragorn with puzzlement. Grasping the hilt firmly, Aragorn placed the point of his sword into the ground in front of Boromir and began to speak.

"My heart to your heart. My flesh to your flesh. My soul to your soul. I give to thee the protection of my body and the endurance of my love until the world is remade." Boromir's eyes misted as he wrapped his hand below Aragorn's on the hilt of the sword. Aragorn stood and the two men raised the hilt of the sword to eye level, then each kissed the blade to seal the oath.

Crossing over to w his his belongings lay, Aragorn returned his sword to its sheath and began to clothe himself. After donning leggings, tunic, mail, vest, belt, boots, knives, sword, quiver and bow, he crossed to Boromir. "I will mourn the loss of you for the rest of my days," the uncrowned king stated in a husky voice, "but I am no longer consumed by it. Be at peace, son of Gondor. Your oath is fulfilled." Aragorn kissed Boromir's brow, then placing his closed hand to his own forehead, lips and heart, saluted his soul mate.

"Be at peace, Lord of Gondor. Look for me at Pelargir, but not before then." Boromir gave Aragorn a radiant smile and began to shine from within. The glow intensified until the three shielded their eyes from the brilliance. A shadow passed before the light. Boromir had vanished.

"Hiro hon hîdh ab 'wanath.," Legolas breathed, then turned to Aragorn and was overcome to see the expression of pure joy emanating from the Man. "For whatever part you played, I thank you. A man with friends such as you is blessed beyond measure. Telin. Ú i vethed nâ i onnad," Aragorn said to his friends, lapsing into elvish. "Let us wake the men. The moon is setting and Pelargir awaits."