Afterwards, accounts of the council portrayed it as a single event that progressed from A to B. It was more like a series of councils, broken up by breaks for meals and time to sleep.

Boromir was used to long and tedious meetings and bureaucracy. He sometimes used to amuse himself by studying the impassive faces of the elves around him. He wondered if they were annoyed by the neediness of the mortal members of the council. After all, he was often woken in the middle of the night by the sound of elven singing and they seemed to place little difference between the hours of light and dark.

He watched the other mortals, too. He found Aragorn to be particularly fascinating. This ranger, supposedly a man, was almost completely elven in his manner during the council. His complete composure and manner of speaking was almost inhuman at times. Boromir was not a strictly intellectual man but he was good at people. Good at reading them and learning how they ticked.

But the person that continually drew his attention was a wood elf from the northern realms. Although Legolas could maintain his composure, the negotiations were long and tedious and Boromir's careful eyes caught the restlessness in the young elf. He almost laughed at himself. This young elf was probably several times his age but the word young seemed to fit.

He was tall and lean with sooty, blue-black hair and grey eyes that were as calm as a still pond. But it looked like an enforced calm, as if Legolas had to force his mind to the task at hand. Sometimes when the wind ran through the tree leaves or the sunlight played across the open clearing of the council, Boromir almost expected the elf to leap to his feet like a deer and bound away into the forest, seeking for escape.

Boromir wasn't just good at reading other people though. He knew that perhaps he was projecting his own longings onto Legolas. His mind kept returning to Gondor and sometimes he wanted to strangle every last slow-speaking, careful, deliberate elf in the entire proceedings. It felt as if his concerns were nothing more to them than a brief rainfall. A minor event on a timeline that, for them, spanned centuries.

What he didn't expect was for his interest to be returned. The afternoon had grown oppressively warm and the conversation was going nowhere when they adjourned. Boromir rose, glad for a chance to stretch his legs. He had discovered a perfect, private place to clear his head between the meetings. A narrow flight of mossy stone stairs wound around until it opened onto a small promontory of bright green grass that overlooked a waterfall. The overwhelming roar of the water thundering onto the rocks below left no space to worry or think.

He exhaled slowly and was about to sit when he sensed another person nearby.

"I didn't expect to be followed," he said, a slight edge to his voice.

He turned around to see Legolas standing there. The wood elf lifted one shoulder and let it drop in a slight, mute shrug. His grey eyes were a little less calm now as they studied Boromir, moving deliberately over his form.

The man almost instinctively turned away again, as if to prove that the other's presence did not bother him. Boromir watched the deep green of the flowing water as it rushed over the worn rocks until it crashed into a milky foam soup at the base of the falls. He breathed. He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them again, he felt startled once again. Legolas had moved until he was standing on a protruding rock that jutted out over the roaring waters.

"Be careful."

The words slipped out before Boromir could stop them. Legolas looked at him questioningly.

"I-have a younger brother," Boromir added hastily.

"Do I remind you of your brother?" The wood elf sounded almost amused.

Boromir took time to collect his thoughts and his eyes strayed over the lean form, from the well-carried shoulders to those elusive gray eyes.

"No," he said firmly "You are nothing like my brother.

Legolas remained standing on the rock and his grey eyes were filled with sparks, like the kind that fly up from an ashen log and melt away into the night darkness. Boromir could see the elf that he suspected was always there under the demure exterior at the councils and he could not help but feel the powerful lure of the other's personality. He forced his eyes away from the other's face.

"I am glad to hear it," the wood elf said in his soft, almost husky voice, "for I cannot say that I followed you for any brotherly sorts of reasons. You interest me. You are much more…human…than Aragorn seems to be. You are much stranger to me."

As he spoke, he stepped down from the rock and in just a few of those eerily quiet steps, stood quite close to the man. Boromir stiffened instinctively as Legolas lifted one a hand towards him. Seeing this, the elf hesitated.

"I would like to touch your face," he said simply.

Boromir's brows furrowed as the elf dropped his gaze and looked embarrassed.

"Why would you want to touch my face?" he asked, a little uncomfortably.

"Because of this."

With those words, Legolas brushed his fingertips very lightly across Boromir's jaw. Boromir felt his pulse jump for a moment. His instincts took over and his hand shot up and closed around the elf's wrist. It was a purely defensive motion and the elf did not flinch.

"Because of-" Boromir felt the urge to laugh but smothered it, "Because I have a-beard?"

Legolas nodded. The man relaxed slightly and released his grip of the other's wrist.

"Very well then," he said easily, "If only I were this interesting to my fellow humans."

The tall elf's mouth twitched into a half-smile.

"Thank you," he said.

This time, the touch was slower and more deliberate. The elf's fingertips traveled from the stubble along Boromir's cheekbone to his chin. His thumb swept just under the others mouth, barely brushing the edge of Boromir's lower lip.

"Fascinating," he murmured and lifted frank, charcoal colored eyes to meet with Boromir's pale blue.

The touches left wanting behind, wanting more. Boromir wondered for a mad moment what would happen if he closed the distance between them and pressed his mouth against the elf's damned, sarcastic smile as hard as he could. He wondered how fascinating that would be.

The sound of a clear, high bell interrupted Legolas' study, however. The council was going to resume and both of them needed to be there. The elf stepped away gracefully.

"Once again," he said softly, "Thank you. I find that mortals pose quite an…interesting study."

Boromir watched him leave.

No.

Legolas was nothing like his brother.

Legolas was nothing quite like anyone he had ever met.