A/N: Short part, but important. I'M SO SORRY to all the Boromir fans for
making yet another Evil Boromir (tm), but it had to be done. You'll see.
So, review and tell me how much you hate me or whatever. :)
WARNINGS: yes, warnings for this part! Whoohoo! Okay, this part contains rape, though it is not graphic, and general Elrohir angstiness. Enjoy!
Part 6:
Elrohir napped peacefully in the afternoon sun. It was a slow day, as everyone seemed to be busy at the house and not in the stables. The stalls were cleaned, tack polished, horses fed and watered, and all before the lunch bell rang. Derek had mentioned something earlier in the day about another family member arriving at the house that day, but Elrohir did not worry himself about it. The less he involved himself in the Lord's affairs, the better.
Lord Boromir was a puzzle, Elrohir mused. He was an arrogant man, fiercely proud and used to getting his way. Elrohir smiled, thinking of how easily he could have been that way if he and Elladan had been raised differently. Still, Elrohir saw that Boromir was a good lord over his small city of people, cold but fair as a leader needed to be at times.
But Elrohir also saw the lust Boromir had in his eyes when he saw him. Elrohir figured he must look like little more than a boy to these people with his willowy figure and quiet ways. An orphan or a runaway, perhaps. He knew it unnerved Boromir that the Lord seemed to have no power over him, despite his common appearance. Elrohir thought it no matter, as he had no reason to want to continue here indefinitely and he could always move on when he tired of this place.
Elrohir reveled in the silence around him. There was only the soft snuffling of the horses and shifting of hooves to harass his ears, unlike when the rest of the staff was present. He thought of going to the kitchens to snatch a bite to eat. Sarah was more than obliging when her little pet came in to sit at the table by the fire and endure her coddling. Elrohir learned that she had no children of her own, so she tended to dote on the younger members of the household.
He pushed himself up off of the hay, brushing it from his tunic and breeches. The sun was sinking quickly now; evenings were short here due to the mountains that bordered the lands. In that way, at least, this place was much like Imladris. He stretched lazily, like a cat, groaning as his joints popped. A rough noise, the clearing of a throat, startled him and he spun around to see Lord Boromir reclining in the doorway, watching him casually.
"I am sorry, young Elrohir," he said as he fully entered the stable. "I did not mean to startle you."
"It is alright, my Lord. I merely thought myself alone."
"Ah," the reply was short, though Boromir still approached him. Elrohir fought the urge to back up as the Lord moved forward, to keep the same distance between him.
After a moment, Boromir was standing almost toe to toe with Elrohir. The Man reached out and plucked a few straws from Elrohir's silky hair. Elrohir shivered at the contact, which made Boromir smile slightly.
"You are not adverse to my touch, then?" Boromir mused as Elrohir still did not move.
Elrohir's eyes widened as he realized that Boromir had mistaken his aversion for lust. He groped for the right words to rebuff the Lord without seeming rude. Oh, how he wished for Elladan's diplomacy!
"My Lord, I am flattered, but I do not wish for anyone's touch," he said as he backed up a step.
Boromir's eyes flashed with anger. "Flattered? You think I flatter you, who are no more than a servant in my home! I demand your service and no more than that!"
Elrohir could take no more of this indignity. "I will warm no Man's bed!" he cried.
Elrohir did not know how fast Men could move when provoked, and he was surprised at the strength of Boromir's grip as he was spun around and pinned beneath the Man's weight. Elrohir cried out in shock, but the empty stable swallowed the sound. Boromir pushed him over a bale of hay, kicking his knees out from under him. Elrohir bucked as he felt a hand slipping beneath his leggings, but Boromir was a seasoned warrior with the strength to match.
Elrohir twisted, trying to remember all of his training under Glorfindel's hand, but he could act on nothing but instinct as panic stole away his reason. He heard Devil screaming in his stall, kicking at the solid wood, though it wouldn't give. He could see nothing as the tears blurred his vision. He tried to concentrate on the scratch of the hay under his cheeks and the smell of leather in the barn, but nothing could distract him from the agony of being violated and taken.
It seemed like an eternity before he gave up, his will fleeing his limbs as his sobs voiced themselves. It seemed like another eternity before he felt the crushing weight of Boromir collapsing on top of him. He felt sickeningly wet all over, from his own tears and sweat and blood, and other things his mind refused to acknowledge. He let his own weight fall to the ground as Boromir rose off of him. Elrohir lay in shock and silence as he heard the rustle of fabric and heavy boots moving away from him.
He did not move until he heard the door slam shut and counted several more minutes after that. Finally, he forced himself to his knees, though the world spun around him. He felt his way to the nearest stall, listening to Devil's concerned murmurs above him as he slid into the stall. He collapsed into the fresh hay in the corner, curling in on himself as he cried. How could he go home now, he thought. How could he face Elladan and his father? He felt his shorn hair and the tears came harder as he made a decision. He could not go home and shame his family with the knowledge of what had happened to him.
He would not ever see Imladris again.
WARNINGS: yes, warnings for this part! Whoohoo! Okay, this part contains rape, though it is not graphic, and general Elrohir angstiness. Enjoy!
Part 6:
Elrohir napped peacefully in the afternoon sun. It was a slow day, as everyone seemed to be busy at the house and not in the stables. The stalls were cleaned, tack polished, horses fed and watered, and all before the lunch bell rang. Derek had mentioned something earlier in the day about another family member arriving at the house that day, but Elrohir did not worry himself about it. The less he involved himself in the Lord's affairs, the better.
Lord Boromir was a puzzle, Elrohir mused. He was an arrogant man, fiercely proud and used to getting his way. Elrohir smiled, thinking of how easily he could have been that way if he and Elladan had been raised differently. Still, Elrohir saw that Boromir was a good lord over his small city of people, cold but fair as a leader needed to be at times.
But Elrohir also saw the lust Boromir had in his eyes when he saw him. Elrohir figured he must look like little more than a boy to these people with his willowy figure and quiet ways. An orphan or a runaway, perhaps. He knew it unnerved Boromir that the Lord seemed to have no power over him, despite his common appearance. Elrohir thought it no matter, as he had no reason to want to continue here indefinitely and he could always move on when he tired of this place.
Elrohir reveled in the silence around him. There was only the soft snuffling of the horses and shifting of hooves to harass his ears, unlike when the rest of the staff was present. He thought of going to the kitchens to snatch a bite to eat. Sarah was more than obliging when her little pet came in to sit at the table by the fire and endure her coddling. Elrohir learned that she had no children of her own, so she tended to dote on the younger members of the household.
He pushed himself up off of the hay, brushing it from his tunic and breeches. The sun was sinking quickly now; evenings were short here due to the mountains that bordered the lands. In that way, at least, this place was much like Imladris. He stretched lazily, like a cat, groaning as his joints popped. A rough noise, the clearing of a throat, startled him and he spun around to see Lord Boromir reclining in the doorway, watching him casually.
"I am sorry, young Elrohir," he said as he fully entered the stable. "I did not mean to startle you."
"It is alright, my Lord. I merely thought myself alone."
"Ah," the reply was short, though Boromir still approached him. Elrohir fought the urge to back up as the Lord moved forward, to keep the same distance between him.
After a moment, Boromir was standing almost toe to toe with Elrohir. The Man reached out and plucked a few straws from Elrohir's silky hair. Elrohir shivered at the contact, which made Boromir smile slightly.
"You are not adverse to my touch, then?" Boromir mused as Elrohir still did not move.
Elrohir's eyes widened as he realized that Boromir had mistaken his aversion for lust. He groped for the right words to rebuff the Lord without seeming rude. Oh, how he wished for Elladan's diplomacy!
"My Lord, I am flattered, but I do not wish for anyone's touch," he said as he backed up a step.
Boromir's eyes flashed with anger. "Flattered? You think I flatter you, who are no more than a servant in my home! I demand your service and no more than that!"
Elrohir could take no more of this indignity. "I will warm no Man's bed!" he cried.
Elrohir did not know how fast Men could move when provoked, and he was surprised at the strength of Boromir's grip as he was spun around and pinned beneath the Man's weight. Elrohir cried out in shock, but the empty stable swallowed the sound. Boromir pushed him over a bale of hay, kicking his knees out from under him. Elrohir bucked as he felt a hand slipping beneath his leggings, but Boromir was a seasoned warrior with the strength to match.
Elrohir twisted, trying to remember all of his training under Glorfindel's hand, but he could act on nothing but instinct as panic stole away his reason. He heard Devil screaming in his stall, kicking at the solid wood, though it wouldn't give. He could see nothing as the tears blurred his vision. He tried to concentrate on the scratch of the hay under his cheeks and the smell of leather in the barn, but nothing could distract him from the agony of being violated and taken.
It seemed like an eternity before he gave up, his will fleeing his limbs as his sobs voiced themselves. It seemed like another eternity before he felt the crushing weight of Boromir collapsing on top of him. He felt sickeningly wet all over, from his own tears and sweat and blood, and other things his mind refused to acknowledge. He let his own weight fall to the ground as Boromir rose off of him. Elrohir lay in shock and silence as he heard the rustle of fabric and heavy boots moving away from him.
He did not move until he heard the door slam shut and counted several more minutes after that. Finally, he forced himself to his knees, though the world spun around him. He felt his way to the nearest stall, listening to Devil's concerned murmurs above him as he slid into the stall. He collapsed into the fresh hay in the corner, curling in on himself as he cried. How could he go home now, he thought. How could he face Elladan and his father? He felt his shorn hair and the tears came harder as he made a decision. He could not go home and shame his family with the knowledge of what had happened to him.
He would not ever see Imladris again.