| Primary Characters: | Aragorn, Boromir, original characters |
| Rating: | M |
| Spoilers: | Since this fic is based on movies, yes. |
| Warning: | m/m sex |
| Description: | What happens after the end of the war? Many survivors return and secrets are revealed. |
In years long past, when Aragorn was a younger man, he fought and protected the lands of men from the forces of evil as a Ranger. He wasn’t the only one, of course. Even though the Rangers were far too few for the work that had to be done, there were a few score of them. Not all of them were men.
One of the other Rangers came to be close to Aragorn. Her name was Elendawen Voronwë. Although Aragorn knew his destiny, he also knew it would be many years until he met the lady of his heart and the long nights were lonely and he couldn’t help being drawn to Elendawen. He was an honest man and told her of his destiny and what must come to pass some day in the future. She could not bear to send him away and told him she would accept that their time together would be limited.
Aragorn – Strider – knew he was being weak and knew also that one day he would be judged for his actions, but he could not bear to part with Elendawen either. So for a time they were happy together. Fought side by side, back to back. The other Rangers whispered about the beautiful couple, but no one among them knew the prophecy about their brother in arms. Only Elendawen knew and she never spoke a word of it.
One day, a group of the Rangers were attacked by Orcs. It was a minor skirmish compared to many other battles Aragorn had fought, but he was separated from the other Rangers and after that day, never saw any of the others again. He was beside himself with grief, convinced that he was being punished for his weakness. From that day on, he never lay with a woman again, vowing to save himself for his true beloved – but all the while, inside he was crying out in pain for his beloved Elendawen.
Many years passed and events caught up with Aragorn. He found himself part of a doomed brotherhood. During the course of their travels together, Aragorn came to focus his attention on Boromir, a man of Gondor. Boromir was quick to anger and Aragorn thought he read the seeds of trouble in the man’s face. Yet Gandalf and Elrond had approved him as a member of the brotherhood and Aragorn merely resolved to keep a close eye on Boromir. His suspicions might still come to naught.
Boromir, on his part, regarded Strider with equal parts suspicion and respect. There was something about him that evoked respect, whether you liked it or not, and Boromir gave respect grudgingly if at all. As their travels together wore on, the influence of the object, the thing of great value, began to exert itself over Boromir and he found it increasingly hard to fight off its emanations.
Yet, he owed his loyalty to their leader – after they had parted with Gandalf, that leader was Strider – and if at first Boromir objected to the Ranger’s elevation, he did so less as time went by.
One night, cold and miserable as many others, Boromir approached Strider and eager to prove his allegiance to him, he kneeled before him, taking his hand and pressing his lips to it. The touch did something to Boromir and Strider soon realized that their encounter was turning into something else. His first impulse was to reject the man from Gondor, graciously but firmly, but something made him pause. As a future King, he felt deeply his debt of gratitude to the men of Minas Tirith and Gondor, and he knew his coming would deprive Boromir’s line of their position as Stewards. Guilt as well as recognition of all the years of servitude that Boromir and his family had given to Gondor, Minas Tirith and all the world of men, made him rethink his initial reaction.
And so the two men lay together as warriors sometimes do in times of war and unrest. It kept them warm that night and when morning came, Strider placed a kiss on Boromir’s brow, indicating his respect and loyalty. Boromir in his turn, kissed Strider’s hand and left.
Behind a rock stood Legolas. scowling at what he had just witnessed. Aragorn, his friend and one time lover had spent the night with that man – with treachery on his mind? How could Aragorn treat his best friend and ally this way? About to stealthily walk away, Legolas suddenly found Aragorn close behind him. He had forgotten how silently his friend could tread, after having learned elf lore for many years in his youth.
”My friend, do not walk away in anger. What we shared one night is forever engraved in my memory. You think I have ceased to love you?”
”Then why do you lie with that traitor?”
”Do not speak that word among the brotherhood. Boromir is a good man, who is more at risk from the forces of evil than any of us.”
”Why did you lie with him?”
”That is not so easy to explain.”
”If you needed someone to warm your night, you could have asked me. Why is it that you now seek comfort in the arms of a man when in the past you didn’t scorn the embrace of an elf?”
”Legolas – please. Do not make this any harder than it has to be. I do not love Boromir as I love you. Can’t you believe me?”
Legolas stared into Aragorn’s eyes for a long time, unblinking as a predator. In the end, Legolas lowered his gaze and bowed his head.
”I believe you. I don’t understand why you would wish to lie with a man like that, but I will accept that you may have your reasons.”
Aragorn nodded, relief evident on his handsome face. He pulled Legolas into his arms and placed a gentle kiss on the elf’s lips.
”It’s time to wake the others. Surely you do not wish to alert the hobbits to our quarrel?”
Legolas face tensed and Aragorn, who knew the elf well, saw that Legolas was ashamed.
”Let us wake the others and start our day. We have far to walk and not much in the way of supplies.”
Aragorn smiled at his old friend. He was sorry to have disappointed Legolas, but something – he knew not what – had impelled him to accept Boromir’s offer. He sensed no ill will in the man, but many threats to his well-being.
Not much later, the brotherhood was broken and Boromir fell. Aragorn wasn’t surprised, but the loss chilled him. Until the end, he had hoped to find a way to save Boromir from the grave danger he, more than anyone else, was in. When he saw the other man’s unmoving body lying on the ground before him, he grieved in his heart. What a waste this was. How unfair Boromir’s fate. Despite his own ‘healer’s hands’ there had been nothing he could do to save Boromir and all the remaining ‘brothers’ could do was send the man of Gondor on his way, hoping he had at last found peace.
In the days that followed, Aragorn didn’t have much time to spare to dwell on Boromir’s fate, but when the last battle was won and he stood awaiting his coronation, he once again lamented the bitter loss. Boromir should have been fighting alongside the rest of the brotherhood. A good man was lost and another good man had lost his brother.
Then came his wedding day and Aragorn put aside his grieving and greeted his wife with the proper respect. His love for her took some of the bitterness out of the many losses they had suffered. He knew this was a good day and that their reign together would be an auspicious one. It was time to look to the future.
On his way to the ceremony that would bind him and Arwen together, he caught sight of a seemingly familiar face in the crowd. A shiver went over Aragorn, and he was a man who never knew fear. Was this a haunting? The young woman looked almost exactly like his beloved Elendawen. How was that possible?
Arwen turned to face him, an inquiring look on her face. He forced himself to meet her gaze and smile reassuringly. Surely that couldn’t be Elendawen. Even if she had lived, she would now be older. The girl he had seen could not be twenty years old yet. Most likely some years younger. It was a chance resemblance, that was all. No need to imagine omens of grave import. The Rangers had come to pay their respects to their leader. If the girl was one of them – perhaps she was even distant kin of Elendawen’s. But this was no time for dwelling on the past, particularly an illicit past that Arwen and Elrond must know nothing about. If Gandalf knew – he was not saying anything and for that Aragorn was grateful.
A hand gripped Mireiswen’s wrist and pulled her back from the front row of spectators. She turned, furiously, to confront whoever it was that had dared to lay a hand on her. Her fury died instantly, when she recognized her assailant. It was her mother.
The older woman hissed at her and dragged her along.
”Come with me. I told you we couldn’t stand that close to the front row. Certainly not in the front row.”
”I just wanted to see King Elessar.”
Elendawen nodded. She could understand her daughter’s curiosity. In all the years since she had been separated from Strider, she had never told her daughter who her father was. At the time, she had been carrying her child and when the skirmish took her away from her lover, she realized it was for the best. Some day Strider would have been forced to turn her away and since they lost touch, she decided they had to remain separated. It was hard to raise her daughter on her own, especially being a Ranger, but she did her best and taught the girl all the skills she had.
”I understand, but we must go. We are awaited in the barracks.”
”What do they need us for on this day of all days? Surely we are not under attack?”
”I think not. Come. Let us find out.”
Once in the barracks, the surviving Rangers were told of Aragorn’s decision to make them an honor guard, to henceforth serve directly under the King. Elendawen knew instantly, though this was a great honor and a reward for all their years of fighting, that she and her daughter could not remain in the Rangers or join the Guard. If the King were to recognize her – Refusing wasn’t easy, but trying to explain herself to her daughter would be much harder.
”What? Are you insane?”
”There are good reasons -”
”What reason could there possibly be to turn your back on the King when he has called you to his side?”
”Mireiswen – I can’t. And neither can you. If he should recognize me or you -”
”Tell me what you’re hiding.”
The mask of fury made it hard to recognize her daughter, but Elendawen knew that her daughter had a fierce temper and was not in the least fazed by that. She looked around, and seeing that they were all alone, everyone else being at the wedding ceremony or rejoicing at their elevation as the King’s own Guard, decided to tell her daughter the truth at last.
”Mireiswen – I told you about the man who was your father – how we fought together for many years and -”
”Yes, you became lovers and he was killed in a skirmish with the Orcs, before I was born. What is this to do with the King?”
”Your father’s name was Strider – or -”
Having heard of the King’s former name, Mireiswen put her hand to her mouth.
”Is he my father?”
Elendawen sighed.
”Yes.”
”How dare you keep this secret from me, mother?”
”How could I tell you? He was already promised to – the queen but he – dreaded the long years alone and -”
”I see. How convenient. And now that we are once again together – he is marrying someone else. Fine, mother, you win. I will not join the Guard. Where shall we go?”
”I don’t know yet. Let me think. There must be many lands that will need good swordfighters from now on.”
”I don’t wish to stay here another moment if I can help it.”
”Let us not be hasty, Mireiswen. We’ll find a place at an inn and I will think and I will ask. There will be warriors here looking for a cause. If I hear of something that sounds suitable for us -”
Mireiswen scowled but for the time being, she did not walk away from her mother. She thought she had lost her father, but that was only the partial truth. Today, she had lost her father again, even more so, knowing she would never be able to know him, but seeing him every day and not be able to talk to him and get to know him, would be even more painful than not knowing him at all.
On the day when the brotherhood was broken up and separated, Boromir’s body had been sent down the Anduin, towards the Falls of Rauros and ultimately, the Bay of Belfalas. Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli had reverently placed him in a small craft, his own broken sword at his feet, along with his cloven horn and the swords of his enemies.
A long time, he drifted down the river and even when he entered the Falls of Rauros, he wasn’t thrown into the water, but was somehow kept safe in the craft, until he almost reached the Bay of Belfalas. There something occurred that for a long time, no one had any knowledge of. A mysterious creature fished the craft out of the waters and placed the pale, unmoving body on the ground.
The creature pressed a bottle of something to the lifeless man’s lips. A shudder shook the body, then his eyes fluttered open and he saw the sky again. At that moment of rebirth, the man remembered nothing, not his name or where he came from or what his purpose was. The creature bade him go on his way. It seemed to the man that his sword and horn had been broken, but now they were once again joined together. He took up his weapon and the horn and turned to ask the creature where he should go, but found the creature gone. Once again, he was alone. Tired of the wild waters, the man turned inland and began walking. It was days before he regained his senses again, and recalled his name and his home. By then he had already remembered his destination.
He was Boromir of Minas Tirith, of Gondor and his purpose was to fight against the forces of evil. Somehow, he found his way to the gates of Mordor and did his part among the nameless masses. When his memory returned, he also recalled his own treachery, his betrayal of his brothers. The knowledge nestled inside his chest and caused much him pain. All he wanted was to be allowed to make amends. Whoever the mysterious creature was, he had given him that chance and for that Boromir would always be grateful.
When the final battle was over and he found that he had not, after all, been granted his wish to die, he also heard the first whispers of what had occurred in his home. His father was dead and his brother – The fellowship of the Ring was dissolved and he no longer had a place anywhere. For want of anywhere better to go, he secretly attended first Aragorn’s wedding, then his own brother, Faramir’s. Boromir marveled at the beauty and strength of the pale warrior maiden Faramir had chosen for his bride. He recalled that in his youth, he had longed to marry one of the ladies of Rohan. His father had never allowed it and now – who would have him? He wished Faramir all the happiness in the world, but dared not make himself known.
It was time he made up his mind. He would try to find a cause and fight for it. Even though he was hated by his old friends, he could still fight and serve the forces of good. In some small way, that might serve to make up for his betrayal.
In the end, Boromir chose to walk to the south. He was told there were new countries to be conquered, now that the Great Shadow had fled. The south would do.
He saw many other warriors on his long walk and one day one of the other warriors began to speak to him, after successfully dispatching a group of enemies that had come at them out of a dense wooded area to the side of the road. The man held out his hand and smiled.
”I’m Sedry.”
”I’m – Redd.”
”Greetings, Redd. Will you walk with me? Two men would fare better in these strange lands than one, it seems to me.”
Boromir had never thought to fight alongside anyone again, but he liked Sedry already. He looked like a good man and his words made sense. It would be good to have someone to watch his back.
”Why not? Let us walk together and – if we are attacked, let’s fight together.”
”Excellent.”
It was a decision Boromir didn’t find any reason to regret in the weeks and months they spent making their way further south. At times, they ran into other men and then they fought the scattered allies of evil together. From time to time, they were part of a larger group, which parted and rejoined again. However, after more than six months Boromir became tired of spending his life fighting and began to have a longing for the more familiar territories of his youth.
He asked Sedry if he too, would consider returning north again, and Sedry had no objection.
”Why not? Perhaps there shall be work enough for us even there. Besides, I could do with a little rest.”
When they passed over into the lands of the north, there were fewer attacks and in the weeks of their travels, they saw no Orcs, Uruk-Hai or men of the south. Perhaps the King and his warriors had already cleared up the central lands.
It was getting colder and one evening, as ‘Redd’ and Sedry sat together by the fire, Boromir suddenly saw that Sedry was sitting closer to him than he had previously noticed. They had no warm clothing, but the fire was big and roaring satisfyingly against the almost completely dark sky.
He had been wondering where Sedry came from, and had on occasion asked, but it seemed Sedry was as silent about his past as Boromir was about his. The only reply had been a vague – ‘from up north’. Boromir himself had also been deliberately vague and never mentioned either Gondor or Minas Tirith and could not in good conscience claim Rohan as his home either. Rather than mentioning a specific place and perhaps speaking out of turn and causing Sedry to hold suspicions, he had avoided any specifics. Sedry had never asked more, so it seemed he had not aroused suspicion.
Despite not knowing much about the man’s past, Boromir felt close to him and by now trusted him as he had once trusted the other men from Minas Tirith and Gondor, and towards the end – the members of their fellowship. Yet there was something more – to some extent what he had felt for Strider – Aragorn – but without the submission. It seemed to Boromir that Sedry was almost as handsome as his own brother and there was something else – The feeling was tinged with bitterness. His father had never allowed him to form an alliance with any lady. In all the years since he had grown to be a man, he had rarely encountered any women and had been forced to seek contacts with his brothers-in-arms. Again, he found himself alone, far away from the women of his own home or Rohan. But he was being unfair, Sedry had been a true and faithful companion. If –
It was as if Sedry had read his mind, and was now more or less leaning on his shoulder. Boromir hesitated a moment, then put his arm around Sedry and pulled him closer. There was no resistance and it seemed to him that Sedry was pushing even closer.
Moments later, they were kissing. Then Sedry pulled back and faced him, an odd look on his face. Perhaps he shouldn’t have taken anything for granted.
”Wait. There is something that you will want to know before – ”
Confused, Boromir watched Sedry remove his jacket, then unbutton his shirt. Underneath, Boromir caught sight of a piece of cloth tightly wound around the chest. He had not been aware of Sedry being injured, at least not beyond the myriad tiny cuts and scratches they all shared. It had been weeks since the last injury of any import and that had been to the upper arm, not the chest.
Sedry began to unwound the cloth, then removed the cloth entirely. It was a while until Boromir’s eyes could correctly interpret what he was seeing. In the circumstances, it did not make any sense – was – Sedry a woman?
”I thought you might like to change your mind if you knew -”
Boromir felt his cheeks heat up – this woman – not Sedry – what was her real name? – thought he was – It was unfair and indeed, the mere sight of her body was making his breathing pick up and his heart was beating faster, so much so that he thought ‘Sedry’ might hear the sound clearly, like a drum.
”There is no denying that I have lain with men before, or else I would not have – but – I am not -”
”I see.”
Whoever this woman was, a smile was playing on her lips and she seemed to Boromir the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in all his years of fighting and fulfilling his duties to his father and his country. He would not mention his father, and risk giving himself away. ‘Sedry’ must believe what she wanted.
”Are you telling me you have never lain with a woman before?”
Boromir didn’t think his cheeks could get any redder. She thought – or did she? Was she teasing him?
”Of course. But only – tavern wenches and the like.”
And not that many either, but she didn’t need to know that, or she would surely tease him more.
”Then we shall not have any problems, Redd.”
It was as if she was using the name in jest, and Boromir was wondering what she was hinting at now.
”My name – my real name – is Elendawen Voronwë. If we are going to be lovers, you might want to know my real name, Boromir, son of Denethor.”
Boromir felt his mouth drop open in astonishment. She knew – all this time she had known who he was and not –
”You knew?”
”Of course. Your reputation precedes you. I have often seen you and your men from a distance and in the city, up close. And there was much talk about the Steward and his sons, among the Rangers.”
He didn’t want to know what that talk implied. It was something else that she had mentioned that caught his attention. Rangers?
”The Rangers?”
”Yes. I was once a Ranger, just like the King.”
”I didn’t realize there were women among their numbers.”
”No, perhaps it was not widely known. There weren’t many of us. Well, now you know as much about me as I know about you, Boromir. Shall we -”
And she moved closer still and Boromir decided that talk about their respective pasts could wait. After all, he probably knew as much as he needed. Tonight was not a time for talk. It had been so long and – he was tired of obeying his father’s rules. He had never believed a time would come when he was free of his father and his duties and could do as he chose. This was what he had always wanted.
If Elendawen would have him, he would ask her to marry him. No more shame-filled encounters with men on the cold, hard ground – though this place was no more comfortable than any other, where in the past, he had been forced to steal a moment of comfort. Perhaps they should see about getting a home, even a modest wooden dwelling. No one had claim to his loyalties anymore. His destiny seemed to have been fulfilled and surely no one would grudge him a little happiness at last?
FIN
© Tonica