Sing Me Good-bye

Title: Sing Me Good-bye
Author: Ivory Wolf
Summary: Your job is to keep Boromir from the temptation of the ring. Will you succeed or will you fail?
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Boromir and you
Feedback: desired
Characters: Frodo, Sam, Pippin, Merry, Legolas, Boromir, Gandalf, Gimli, Aragorn, Galadriel, Haldir, You, maybe a few others.
Betas: myself
Author’s notes: idea just popped up. still am continuing the other two stories so don't panic. i'll be taking my time with this story as well.
*Disclaimer: i don't own the characters from lord of the rings. the only one i own is turquoise.


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You sigh. The cool water caresses your nude body as you float in the river. The sun cascades down onto you, warming the parts that are above the water. Your hands are behind your head, tangled in your thick brunette hair. You close your blue eyes for but a moment to soak in the peaceful atmosphere.

“For being lost, this isn’t too bad,” you muse aloud. You watch a blue bird chip happily as it flies through the lush woods. The trees are filled with vibrant yellow, cheerful orange, deep crimson, and dark brown. “Though I wish I knew how I got here.”

Early this morning you had been in a carnival, getting your palm read by Madam Maddy. And boy did that name fit her. She was a complete nutcase! She was muttering about you finding your true love when you were twenty and getting a nice visit from your parents in a few days. When you informed her that you are a twenty-one-year-old orphan, she had a fit. She cursed you in another tongue as she pushed you out the door.

Instead of leading back to the carnival, you ended up in the woods. When you look back around the door was gone. You’ve spent most of the day walking in hopes of finding a road of some sort. Being sweaty and dirty isn’t pleasant, so you were more than happy to jump in the river once you came across it.

“Things could be worse. I could have ended up in a toxic waste dump or even in my boss’s bathroom.” You shutter the thought of walking in on the fat balding lard being unclothed in any way.

As you relax further, you sing songs your remember hearing the other day on the radio. Some are cheerful pop, others mournful rock. You’re in the middle of an Evanescence song when you hear someone say; “By the Valor!”

You immediately squat in the water, covering as much of yourself as you can. You look at the man staring at you and nearly swoon. He has to be a head taller than you if not more. Even with all of the clothes, you can tell his body is muscular. ‘Reminds me of those warriors show on the discovery channel,’ you think.

His oak brown hair comes to his shoulders and his clover eyes are wide with shock. While most of his blush is concealed by his goatee, you see some creep up to his cheekbones.

You get over your shock and realize he’s taking you in much of the same manner. “Didn’t your mother ever teach you to knock first?” you huff.

He raises an eyebrow. “Knock,” he repeats. He looks around. “On what?”

You chuckle. “Never mind. Turn around so I can get dressed,” you say. He complies, though you can tell he doesn’t want to. You hop out of the river and use your sweater as a towel. You are about to dress when a little boy with a head full of light brown curls bursts through the woods. He beams at the tall man.

“There you-“ He cuts off when he sees you. He barely comes up to your waist so he gets a good view of your entire body. His mouth drops.

“Pip, what are you gapping-“ Another boy comes through the woods. He falls silent when he sees you. Similar to his friend, he has curly brownish hair and light blue eyes. Also like he friend, he seems to enjoy looking you up and down.

“Manners, boys,” you snap. “You should follow your dad’s example.” You point to the taller man who is polite enough not to look back.

The boys mumble their apologies and turn around. “And he’s not our dad,” Pip says over his shoulder. “He’s Boromir and this,” he smacks the boy’s shoulder as hard as he can. The boy stumbles before hitting him back, “Ow! He’s Merry.”

“Pleased to meet both of you,” you say. “I am Turquoise.” You manage to get your underwear and pants on before two more little boys stumble upon you and (your guess) their companies.

“Oh dear,” the bigger, lighter-haired boy says. He clasps his hands over his blue eyes. The dark-haired boy, however, stares with big dark blue eyes that make you feel unnerved.

“Frodo, stop staring,” Pip snaps. “It’s rude!” The dark-haired boy turns around. “You too Sam!” He grabs the bigger boy’s arm and turns him around.

“Are there any more I should-“ You begin.

Your question is answered when four men hurry through the woods. The man built similar to Boromir holds his unsheathe sword tightly as he looks around. A taller lean fair-haired and fair-skinned man also checks your surroundings, his arrow drawn. The shortest of the four drops his ax when he sees you.

The fourth one is an elderly man with a long grey beard. His staff stands at his side as his eyes pierce yours. He smiles. “I see we have a guest,” he says.

You look from one to another, noticing how the shortest and the fair-skinned’s eyes flicker to your breasts. You cross your arms and glare at them. You are getting tired of this. “I hope that’s all of you,” you say dryly. “Or should I strike a pose for the next wave of males.”

The elderly man chuckles. “Do not worry, we are the last of our fellowship.”

“Good, now would all of you please turn around. I’m trying to get dressed.”

“What for?” the fair-skinned asks. “We already got a good look.”

“Just do it Legolas,” Boromir snaps. “Show some respect for the lady.”

“Thank you,” you say. You wait until the four are turned before putting on your bra and shirt. Your sweater is too damp to put on, so you tie it around your waist. Although you were warm while in the river, your wet hair is chilled on the back of your neck. As you reach for your socks, you say; “Okay.”

The nine turn around and study you are you put on your shoes and socks. While the others may be too shy to ask questions, the elderly man is not. “Who are you and where are you from?” he asks.

“I am Turquoise and I don’t have a place of origin,” you answer. “Who are you?”

“Gandalf the Grey,” he answers.

You chuckle. “The name definitely suits you,” you say as you glace at his large grey robes.

He smiles. He points to the short man, “this is Gimli,” the fair-shinned man, “Legolas,” and last to the man built like Boromir, “and Aragorn. I assume you have been introduced to the others.”

“Basically,” you say. You rub your hands together as you think of the way to form the question that has been on your mind for a time. “So, what are four boys and five men doing in the middle of the woods? Nothing sketchy I hope.”

Legolas wrinkles his nose. “I am not a man,” he states.

“I stand corrected,” you say as you stare into his ocean eyes. “Five boys and four men.” He clenches his jaw as Boromir laughs. Gandalf’s eyes twinkle and Aragorn fakes a cough to cover his chuckle.

“Legolas is an elf,” Gandalf says.

You laugh. “Right, and I’m a pixie.” When you see Gandalf is not laughing, you stop. “So you mean to tell me this tall dude is an elf? I thought they were tiny beared guys who work for Santa Clause.”

“Those are dwarves,” Legolas says.

Gimli’s cheeks redden. “Now see here elf,” he roars. “We dwarves many be shorter than your kind, but we are by no means tiny! And we certainly do NOT work for someone named Santa!”

“Wait a minute,” you say. You point to Legolas, “you’re an elf,” you point to Gimli, “you’re a dwarf,” you point to Gandalf, “then you must be a wizard.”

“Correct,” he beams.

“And the four little ones are fey spirits of some kind?” you guess.

“No, they are hobbits. Creatures who happily live underground,” he says. For the first time you notice the hobbits’ feet and realize it fits with their normal habitat.

You look from Boromir to Aragorn. “So, what are you too?” you ask.

“Human,” Boromir answers. He notices your shiver. He takes off his cloak and wraps it around your shoulders. He nods his head towards Aragorn, “he has elvish tendencies.”

“Elvish,” Pip repeats. “I thought he was human.”

You smile. Sam slaps his forehead while Frodo shakes his head. “I can’t believe we’re cousins," Frodo says.

You don’t comment. You pull the warm cloak closer around you. You breathe in the wonderful scent imbedded in it. It’s of spices, leather, and man. You doubt you’d ever get tired of it.

“Well, now that we found the river, why don’t we set up camp? With all of this excitement of having a new companion we could use a good rest,” Gandalf says.

You are tempted to say you can’t stay, that you have to find a way home. But that falls short from your lips when Boromir lays out his bed roll. “You may sleep in this tonight if you wish, I won’t need it because I’m keeping watch,” he says.

Your heart flutters. You can’t help it; you’re a sucker for his kindness. Apparently, Aragorn is just as shocked because his eyes are wide as he stares at Boromir. “You are?” he asks.

Boromir blushes. “Of course,” he says. “I’m going to get firewood.” Without waiting for Aragorn to respond, he hurries through the woods. His heavy footsteps fade away.

Pip glances from Aragorn to Gandalf and says; “So, when are we going to eat?”

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