Author Notes: Okay, here we are again with yet another little or more like big…sadistic…dark…violent story…just like we like them! *Grin* So Minka and I started this on another one of our chats, completely out of the blue with a stupid little question that became this, somehow…we are still trying to figure out the how…
But anyway, in here we are both experimenting with a lot of stuff, so behold! The warnings!
Warnings: This is slash, fellows, one-sided A/L slash. This also contains Non-con issues and the violence you come to expect in a story that has Minka on it! *Waves at glaring Minka* with the inner turmoil some seem to think is on my stories *innocent look* I have no idea where you got such a thing from…
You must have in mind, every single one of you, that the following story is not what you have probably grown to expect from us. This is not the flowers and sugar we usually write, nor does it contain rainbows and smiles like every other story that we have written…*ducks at flying objects* WHAT? You don't think we write *dark* things do you?!?! *Ducks again* Okay so maybe you're right…Well, anyhow, to your shock as well as our own - we have grown up! *Sniff* And gone even darker! *Evil grin from Minka and Yours Truly*
So now that that's dealt with, enjoy the story! And Please R&R!
Temptation Lurks
-*-*-*-
Chapter one:
Besmirched Nobility
-*-*-*-
He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, being led forward by the remaining sense of valor and honor that all expected from him. He was the heir to the throne of Gondor, a King in disguise waiting for the time to take his rightful place. Yet now…now it was all a blur, a distant memory, perhaps a tale. He wasn't that man. That fact was clear in his mind, for he knew that he could not be that noble man that crowds would follow, and he felt each stab of pain that came with the knowledge that it had been his own weakness which had let his own people down. He felt unworthy, he felt dirty…he felt…thirsty…empty…lacking a center and haunted by that which he could not have.
But he refused to let himself be troubled about this now, it was not the time nor the place to mourn, not when he had heard the horn of Gondor cry for his help through the forest, shaking his entire being into motion, forgetting all the doubts and fears, the insecurity and the ever growing need for what was not his; he had started running and still did, searching desperately for some sign of…
…No…
A mile, maybe, from Parth Galen in a little glade not far from the lake he found Boromir. He sat there, as if resting…but Aragorn knew better. Arrows pierced his strong body; black-feathered arrows that stood out in horrible contrast to the pale complexion of who would be his friend. Blood stained his clothes, running slowly in small droplets that escaped around the wounds not covered by the arrows. The ranger ran to his human companion and knelt next to him, breathing deeply to try and calm himself down.
He had not failed…no, he had not failed, Boromir would be fine, he only had to heal his wounds, and he would be fine, he would…
He will die The thought ran unbidden through his mind, and he froze, his shaking hands stilling before they reached the arrows that pierced his companion Boromir will die, and there will be one less to fight against you for it…to take it from you…
Boromir opened his eyes and strove to speak. At last slow words came. "I tried to take the Ring from Frodo." he said in a ragged whisper that stopped the ranger's heart. Aragorn eyes went cold, even as Boromir's gaze stared unseeing at him, as if through him. The man was dying, and Aragorn still had to fight down the urge to sink the arrows further into the abused body.
He tried to take it! He tried to steal it from Frodo, from Middle Earth! He wanted to take the ring for himself, when it belongs to me…Thief! Nothing but a dishonor and a thief!
"I am sorry. I have paid." Boromir spoke, breaking his trance. His glance strayed to his fallen enemies; twenty at least lay there…Aragorn willed them to live, to rise again so he could take out his anger with them, to cut their cursed existence short all over again…so he could take out his hate while they tried to defend themselves…he willed those orcs to live so they could sink more arrows into Boromir's body, so they could take satisfaction from watching his friend die, while Aragorn simply enjoyed not having to hear his pained voice any longer…
"They have gone: the Halflings: the Orcs have taken them. I think they are not dead. Orcs bound them." The steward paused and his eyes closed wearily.
The images haunted Aragorn then, Merry and Pippin screaming in fright as strong Orcan hands grasped their bodies, carrying them away. Two less on this fellowship, and the man in front of him was weakening, making his heart feel torn between grief and glee at the prospect of his approaching death. His mind cried out in rebellion to his traitorous feelings, his conflicting emotions, yet the feelings were there. Boromir was a threat on his mind now, and his bonds of friendship with the man were not enough to still the hiss that whispered into his thoughts
No Boromir, no halflings…the ring is almost yours…four gone…four to go…
"Farewell, Aragorn! Go to Minas Tirith and save my people! I have failed."
As have I…a thief…you are a thief Boromir…no…no…you are my friend…you were my friend before this presence invaded me, before this whisper brought the worse in me, before I lied to all of you…
"No!" said Aragorn, taking his hand and kissing his brow. "You have conquered. Few have gained such a victory. Be at peace! Minas Tirith shall not fall!"
I shall guard Minas Tirith…I shall have it…it shall be mine soon, and I will make it strong, will make it impenetrable, and then I shall defeat the Dark Lord, be the King of Gondor… of the fields of Rohan and beyond…
Boromir smiled.
But for that, I need it…I shall take it…
"Which way did they go? Was Frodo there?" asked Aragorn hurriedly.
But Boromir did not speak again. Aragorn stared at his peaceful face for a few seconds, and did not stop his observations even as he could hear approaching heavy steps. His grey eyes pierced Boromir, as if by his will alone he could make him live; could make him answer his question. The hysterical laughter that escaped him was too soft for the ears of Gimli, who now stood a few feet back, staring at Boromir with a grief stricken expression. But the sound did not escape Legolas' hearing, and the piercing blue eyes burned into Aragorn's back.
Legolas watched as Aragorn rose to his feet, brushing tears from his eyes and the Elf could not help but wonder what had caused them - pain of grief or the call of insanity.
The laugh that had escaped the man's lips only moments before spoke nothing but ill to the Elf and for once in his life Legolas was seriously worried about his friend. Aragorn had always been strong and noble, one to sacrifice himself for another at no matter what the situation or the person, and yet that laugh, that laugh was… evil.
Legolas watched Gimli walking up to Aragorn, the shorter being reaching up to place his hand on Aragorn's arm in a sign of silent comfort. Knowing that he should do the same, Legolas willed his questioning mind into submission and moved slowly forward as if he were a cat stalking its prey.
Reaching his human friend, he went to do the same as Gimli before moving away, but was surprised to find the man's arms wrap around him and pull him into an embrace. Knowing that if he were to shrug it off, it would arise suspicion, Legolas let Aragorn hug him, offering his support and patting the man's back gently.
After a few moments in which Aragorn had still not let him go, Legolas was starting to get tense, and once a hand threaded its way through his hair to rub the back on his neck, he abruptly pulled away, muttering something about getting their packs. He could see the shocked look on the rangers face, and again he wondered what caused it.
Moving silently away, Legolas ignored the eyes of the ranger that followed his back and the inquisitive gaze of Gimli, telling himself that it was only in his head and that there was nothing wrong with his human friend.
-*-*-*-*-
Standing and looking out over the wide stretch of water, Legolas could see the small boat that was pulled ashore on the other bank, obviously the work of the Ring bearer and his companion. He could not help but feel that, no matter what objections that he had towards them going off alone; they had done the right thing. Something about Aragorn's laughter had stayed with him, and, looking out on the path of the Hobbits, he felt almost certain what it was, Aragorn had fallen to the power of the Ring, he had succumb to the pull and taunts of the Dark Lords implement.
Footsteps came tramping through the forest, warning Legolas of Aragorn and Gimli's approach and he quickly pushed his thoughts on the matter of the Ring to the back of his mind. Not even turning around in greeting, Legolas could feel Aragorn's eyes on his back, boring a hole through him as if the man was reading his mind.
Could he suspect that I know about him?
The thought hit him hard and Legolas inwardly cringed at the prospect of Aragorn knowing his belief.
"Legolas," something in Aragorn's voice sent shivers up and down Legolas' spine as the human called to him, interrupting his thoughts. "Legolas, my friend, come. We must see to Boromir."
Not wishing to face the human and see what he knew would be in Aragorn's eyes, Legolas continued to look out onto the river, his eyes searching the back for any sign of the hobbits. He did not want to admit to himself that Aragorn, his strong minded friend, could fall subject to the will of the Ring, but what else was there? Nothing else would explain his behavior, the look in his eyes that suggested that he would kill anyone to get what he wanted and even the hissed way that he spoke, nothing else could accommodate for such actions.
A hand on his shoulder pulled him from his thoughts and made him jump, air being sucked through his teeth so loudly that he was sure that the human heard it. As he felt another hand snake in front of him and grasp his other shoulder, he knew that the future king had been well aware of his fright. Before he knew it, Legolas found himself being turned around so to look right into the man's face, the humans' hands resting on his shoulders.
"What is wrong, my friend?" Aragorn asked his voice so concerned that Legolas knew that it was fake, that the man's lust for the Ring was taking control. Slowly, Aragorn's hands started to rub the Elf's arms. His thumbs massaging the soft, cloth covered skin as he went. "Legolas, my dear friend, if Boromir's death has affected you so, you must tell me so I may help you. I will not risk losing you to Elven grief." The man's voice was a deadly whisper, his face only inches from the Elf's while his hot breath gently stirred the hair that fell about Legolas' shoulders.
"I am fine," Legolas replied bluntly, his voice clear of any emotion whatsoever. Shrugging, he attempted to get the man's hands off his arms and yet the action was in vain as Aragorn held on tighter.
The human pulled him closer, looking deep into his eyes and Legolas had to fight the urge to shudder. They were cold, his eyes, cold as a rain tossed night and sinister as the lands of the Dark Lord himself. "Legolas!" he said, his once forged kind voice replaced with a hint of malice, "you must tell me what it is that troubles you!"
"Nothing bothers me, Aragorn," Legolas stated clamorously, "perchance it is you that is plagued by something eating upon the soul!" Moving his arms in a backward circular motion, he successfully broke free of the strong grip and took a large step back while glaring at the human and warning him not to come closer. "Now come, let us see to Boromir." The Elf finished ere turning on his heels and stalking away into the forest, his steps not even making the slightest sound.
Legolas was aware that again Aragorn's eyes were following him, and he knew that Gimli had been puzzled by the entire display, but once again he could not have cared less.
Reaching the clearing littered with the dead Orcs' that Boromir had slain, Legolas made his way over to the fallen man, careful not to disturb the ground in the slightest way. He passed like a spirit; his thin frame looked as if it floated above the ground and his golden hair almost glowing in the sun's rays.
Reaching the man's side, Legolas looked down on him in pity and wonder. He had seen death in his life, in fact, he had seen a lot of it, and yet he still never quite got used to it, never quite grasped the concept of that fact that that person was now gone for good and never would again walk the land.
Curiosity overcame him and the Elf knelt down beside the man. Running his hand lightly over the cold flesh of the human's face, he found it to be oddly cold compared to any other human that he had had contact with - but then again, as he reminded himself, he had never touched a dead human before. The man's chest no longer lifted with slight breath, and his lips no longer parted with each intake and exhale. The blood had stopped running from the man's wounds, the heart no longer pumping the fluid through the veins of the body to allow it to spill free, but the small rivulets that had leaked out in the moments of life continued to drip down the front of the man.
Yet, by far the most interesting thing of all was the man's eyes. They were still open and the strangeness of them caused Legolas to lean right over the man, placing one hand on either side of the body so he could peer right into the human's face.
Boromir's eyes were staring out into space, seeing all and yet nothing at the same time. They were slightly glazed over, almost a complete light blue and they seemed dry, like that which a human would suffer had they not blinked in minutes.
"Should I have cause to be jealous?" Aragorn's voice whiffed from over his shoulder into the Elf's ears, making the Elf cringe yet again and flush due to his rather embarrassing position.
Legolas' eyes narrowed, forming deadly slits at the man's words as he sighed out loud. Fighting back all the words that popped into his head, Legolas merely rose gracefully to his feet and glared the man down. Once Aragorn finally looked away and both could hear Gimli approaching there location, Legolas turned his back from the ranger and regarded the deceased Boromir once again.
"What are we to do with him?" he questioned uneasily, not wanting to accept the finality of death.
"The river!" Aragorn proclaimed without a moment hesitation, causing the Elf to further wonder about the ranger's intentions and motions. "We send him down the river - it is what he would have wanted!" His voice was almost cheery, as if he were the happiest that he had been in days at seeing the steward of Gondor's son lying dead, pierced with Orcan arrows.
"Come now," Aragorn called whilst stepping forward towards the limp body against the tree, "Legolas, Gimli, my friends, let us have this done with so we may be one our way!"
With a look of disgust, Legolas stepped forward, ready to aid the man in the disposal of Boromir's body and yet his mind still called to him, still told him of all that he should be warned of.
Surprisingly enough, all that his mind screamed at him was to be weary of Aragorn. Not to trust the man and to keep his distance.
-*-*-*-*-
To be continued
-*-*-*-*-
But anyway, in here we are both experimenting with a lot of stuff, so behold! The warnings!
Warnings: This is slash, fellows, one-sided A/L slash. This also contains Non-con issues and the violence you come to expect in a story that has Minka on it! *Waves at glaring Minka* with the inner turmoil some seem to think is on my stories *innocent look* I have no idea where you got such a thing from…
You must have in mind, every single one of you, that the following story is not what you have probably grown to expect from us. This is not the flowers and sugar we usually write, nor does it contain rainbows and smiles like every other story that we have written…*ducks at flying objects* WHAT? You don't think we write *dark* things do you?!?! *Ducks again* Okay so maybe you're right…Well, anyhow, to your shock as well as our own - we have grown up! *Sniff* And gone even darker! *Evil grin from Minka and Yours Truly*
So now that that's dealt with, enjoy the story! And Please R&R!
Temptation Lurks
-*-*-*-
Chapter one:
Besmirched Nobility
-*-*-*-
He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, being led forward by the remaining sense of valor and honor that all expected from him. He was the heir to the throne of Gondor, a King in disguise waiting for the time to take his rightful place. Yet now…now it was all a blur, a distant memory, perhaps a tale. He wasn't that man. That fact was clear in his mind, for he knew that he could not be that noble man that crowds would follow, and he felt each stab of pain that came with the knowledge that it had been his own weakness which had let his own people down. He felt unworthy, he felt dirty…he felt…thirsty…empty…lacking a center and haunted by that which he could not have.
But he refused to let himself be troubled about this now, it was not the time nor the place to mourn, not when he had heard the horn of Gondor cry for his help through the forest, shaking his entire being into motion, forgetting all the doubts and fears, the insecurity and the ever growing need for what was not his; he had started running and still did, searching desperately for some sign of…
…No…
A mile, maybe, from Parth Galen in a little glade not far from the lake he found Boromir. He sat there, as if resting…but Aragorn knew better. Arrows pierced his strong body; black-feathered arrows that stood out in horrible contrast to the pale complexion of who would be his friend. Blood stained his clothes, running slowly in small droplets that escaped around the wounds not covered by the arrows. The ranger ran to his human companion and knelt next to him, breathing deeply to try and calm himself down.
He had not failed…no, he had not failed, Boromir would be fine, he only had to heal his wounds, and he would be fine, he would…
He will die The thought ran unbidden through his mind, and he froze, his shaking hands stilling before they reached the arrows that pierced his companion Boromir will die, and there will be one less to fight against you for it…to take it from you…
Boromir opened his eyes and strove to speak. At last slow words came. "I tried to take the Ring from Frodo." he said in a ragged whisper that stopped the ranger's heart. Aragorn eyes went cold, even as Boromir's gaze stared unseeing at him, as if through him. The man was dying, and Aragorn still had to fight down the urge to sink the arrows further into the abused body.
He tried to take it! He tried to steal it from Frodo, from Middle Earth! He wanted to take the ring for himself, when it belongs to me…Thief! Nothing but a dishonor and a thief!
"I am sorry. I have paid." Boromir spoke, breaking his trance. His glance strayed to his fallen enemies; twenty at least lay there…Aragorn willed them to live, to rise again so he could take out his anger with them, to cut their cursed existence short all over again…so he could take out his hate while they tried to defend themselves…he willed those orcs to live so they could sink more arrows into Boromir's body, so they could take satisfaction from watching his friend die, while Aragorn simply enjoyed not having to hear his pained voice any longer…
"They have gone: the Halflings: the Orcs have taken them. I think they are not dead. Orcs bound them." The steward paused and his eyes closed wearily.
The images haunted Aragorn then, Merry and Pippin screaming in fright as strong Orcan hands grasped their bodies, carrying them away. Two less on this fellowship, and the man in front of him was weakening, making his heart feel torn between grief and glee at the prospect of his approaching death. His mind cried out in rebellion to his traitorous feelings, his conflicting emotions, yet the feelings were there. Boromir was a threat on his mind now, and his bonds of friendship with the man were not enough to still the hiss that whispered into his thoughts
No Boromir, no halflings…the ring is almost yours…four gone…four to go…
"Farewell, Aragorn! Go to Minas Tirith and save my people! I have failed."
As have I…a thief…you are a thief Boromir…no…no…you are my friend…you were my friend before this presence invaded me, before this whisper brought the worse in me, before I lied to all of you…
"No!" said Aragorn, taking his hand and kissing his brow. "You have conquered. Few have gained such a victory. Be at peace! Minas Tirith shall not fall!"
I shall guard Minas Tirith…I shall have it…it shall be mine soon, and I will make it strong, will make it impenetrable, and then I shall defeat the Dark Lord, be the King of Gondor… of the fields of Rohan and beyond…
Boromir smiled.
But for that, I need it…I shall take it…
"Which way did they go? Was Frodo there?" asked Aragorn hurriedly.
But Boromir did not speak again. Aragorn stared at his peaceful face for a few seconds, and did not stop his observations even as he could hear approaching heavy steps. His grey eyes pierced Boromir, as if by his will alone he could make him live; could make him answer his question. The hysterical laughter that escaped him was too soft for the ears of Gimli, who now stood a few feet back, staring at Boromir with a grief stricken expression. But the sound did not escape Legolas' hearing, and the piercing blue eyes burned into Aragorn's back.
Legolas watched as Aragorn rose to his feet, brushing tears from his eyes and the Elf could not help but wonder what had caused them - pain of grief or the call of insanity.
The laugh that had escaped the man's lips only moments before spoke nothing but ill to the Elf and for once in his life Legolas was seriously worried about his friend. Aragorn had always been strong and noble, one to sacrifice himself for another at no matter what the situation or the person, and yet that laugh, that laugh was… evil.
Legolas watched Gimli walking up to Aragorn, the shorter being reaching up to place his hand on Aragorn's arm in a sign of silent comfort. Knowing that he should do the same, Legolas willed his questioning mind into submission and moved slowly forward as if he were a cat stalking its prey.
Reaching his human friend, he went to do the same as Gimli before moving away, but was surprised to find the man's arms wrap around him and pull him into an embrace. Knowing that if he were to shrug it off, it would arise suspicion, Legolas let Aragorn hug him, offering his support and patting the man's back gently.
After a few moments in which Aragorn had still not let him go, Legolas was starting to get tense, and once a hand threaded its way through his hair to rub the back on his neck, he abruptly pulled away, muttering something about getting their packs. He could see the shocked look on the rangers face, and again he wondered what caused it.
Moving silently away, Legolas ignored the eyes of the ranger that followed his back and the inquisitive gaze of Gimli, telling himself that it was only in his head and that there was nothing wrong with his human friend.
-*-*-*-*-
Standing and looking out over the wide stretch of water, Legolas could see the small boat that was pulled ashore on the other bank, obviously the work of the Ring bearer and his companion. He could not help but feel that, no matter what objections that he had towards them going off alone; they had done the right thing. Something about Aragorn's laughter had stayed with him, and, looking out on the path of the Hobbits, he felt almost certain what it was, Aragorn had fallen to the power of the Ring, he had succumb to the pull and taunts of the Dark Lords implement.
Footsteps came tramping through the forest, warning Legolas of Aragorn and Gimli's approach and he quickly pushed his thoughts on the matter of the Ring to the back of his mind. Not even turning around in greeting, Legolas could feel Aragorn's eyes on his back, boring a hole through him as if the man was reading his mind.
Could he suspect that I know about him?
The thought hit him hard and Legolas inwardly cringed at the prospect of Aragorn knowing his belief.
"Legolas," something in Aragorn's voice sent shivers up and down Legolas' spine as the human called to him, interrupting his thoughts. "Legolas, my friend, come. We must see to Boromir."
Not wishing to face the human and see what he knew would be in Aragorn's eyes, Legolas continued to look out onto the river, his eyes searching the back for any sign of the hobbits. He did not want to admit to himself that Aragorn, his strong minded friend, could fall subject to the will of the Ring, but what else was there? Nothing else would explain his behavior, the look in his eyes that suggested that he would kill anyone to get what he wanted and even the hissed way that he spoke, nothing else could accommodate for such actions.
A hand on his shoulder pulled him from his thoughts and made him jump, air being sucked through his teeth so loudly that he was sure that the human heard it. As he felt another hand snake in front of him and grasp his other shoulder, he knew that the future king had been well aware of his fright. Before he knew it, Legolas found himself being turned around so to look right into the man's face, the humans' hands resting on his shoulders.
"What is wrong, my friend?" Aragorn asked his voice so concerned that Legolas knew that it was fake, that the man's lust for the Ring was taking control. Slowly, Aragorn's hands started to rub the Elf's arms. His thumbs massaging the soft, cloth covered skin as he went. "Legolas, my dear friend, if Boromir's death has affected you so, you must tell me so I may help you. I will not risk losing you to Elven grief." The man's voice was a deadly whisper, his face only inches from the Elf's while his hot breath gently stirred the hair that fell about Legolas' shoulders.
"I am fine," Legolas replied bluntly, his voice clear of any emotion whatsoever. Shrugging, he attempted to get the man's hands off his arms and yet the action was in vain as Aragorn held on tighter.
The human pulled him closer, looking deep into his eyes and Legolas had to fight the urge to shudder. They were cold, his eyes, cold as a rain tossed night and sinister as the lands of the Dark Lord himself. "Legolas!" he said, his once forged kind voice replaced with a hint of malice, "you must tell me what it is that troubles you!"
"Nothing bothers me, Aragorn," Legolas stated clamorously, "perchance it is you that is plagued by something eating upon the soul!" Moving his arms in a backward circular motion, he successfully broke free of the strong grip and took a large step back while glaring at the human and warning him not to come closer. "Now come, let us see to Boromir." The Elf finished ere turning on his heels and stalking away into the forest, his steps not even making the slightest sound.
Legolas was aware that again Aragorn's eyes were following him, and he knew that Gimli had been puzzled by the entire display, but once again he could not have cared less.
Reaching the clearing littered with the dead Orcs' that Boromir had slain, Legolas made his way over to the fallen man, careful not to disturb the ground in the slightest way. He passed like a spirit; his thin frame looked as if it floated above the ground and his golden hair almost glowing in the sun's rays.
Reaching the man's side, Legolas looked down on him in pity and wonder. He had seen death in his life, in fact, he had seen a lot of it, and yet he still never quite got used to it, never quite grasped the concept of that fact that that person was now gone for good and never would again walk the land.
Curiosity overcame him and the Elf knelt down beside the man. Running his hand lightly over the cold flesh of the human's face, he found it to be oddly cold compared to any other human that he had had contact with - but then again, as he reminded himself, he had never touched a dead human before. The man's chest no longer lifted with slight breath, and his lips no longer parted with each intake and exhale. The blood had stopped running from the man's wounds, the heart no longer pumping the fluid through the veins of the body to allow it to spill free, but the small rivulets that had leaked out in the moments of life continued to drip down the front of the man.
Yet, by far the most interesting thing of all was the man's eyes. They were still open and the strangeness of them caused Legolas to lean right over the man, placing one hand on either side of the body so he could peer right into the human's face.
Boromir's eyes were staring out into space, seeing all and yet nothing at the same time. They were slightly glazed over, almost a complete light blue and they seemed dry, like that which a human would suffer had they not blinked in minutes.
"Should I have cause to be jealous?" Aragorn's voice whiffed from over his shoulder into the Elf's ears, making the Elf cringe yet again and flush due to his rather embarrassing position.
Legolas' eyes narrowed, forming deadly slits at the man's words as he sighed out loud. Fighting back all the words that popped into his head, Legolas merely rose gracefully to his feet and glared the man down. Once Aragorn finally looked away and both could hear Gimli approaching there location, Legolas turned his back from the ranger and regarded the deceased Boromir once again.
"What are we to do with him?" he questioned uneasily, not wanting to accept the finality of death.
"The river!" Aragorn proclaimed without a moment hesitation, causing the Elf to further wonder about the ranger's intentions and motions. "We send him down the river - it is what he would have wanted!" His voice was almost cheery, as if he were the happiest that he had been in days at seeing the steward of Gondor's son lying dead, pierced with Orcan arrows.
"Come now," Aragorn called whilst stepping forward towards the limp body against the tree, "Legolas, Gimli, my friends, let us have this done with so we may be one our way!"
With a look of disgust, Legolas stepped forward, ready to aid the man in the disposal of Boromir's body and yet his mind still called to him, still told him of all that he should be warned of.
Surprisingly enough, all that his mind screamed at him was to be weary of Aragorn. Not to trust the man and to keep his distance.
-*-*-*-*-
To be continued
-*-*-*-*-