Hey everyone! This is my first attempt at LOTR slash…Well actually second, because it's re-written and re-posted. I'm pretty easy going, so all feedback is good, even flames will be accepted if necessary. And if the story sucks too badly I'll rewrite AGAIN, cause I see no need to unleash godawful stuff onto un-suspecting readers. :D Cheers,
-Magic Carpet Ride
Summary: When Boromir comes down with a mysterious illness during the quest, Legolas is forced to re-consider his own thoughts as he comforts him. Implied/ Mild Slash, L/B. Little ficlet thing that I may do a sequel to if I get bored enough.
Set just after the mines of Moria and Gandalf falling into darkness. Trying to be both book/movie wise, and failing spectacularly.
Rating: PG-13. Let's face it, even implied Slash is for mature audiences.
Feedback: Oh please leave feedback. There is nothing more annoying than posting something and not receiving any feedback from the readers. If you love the story, you hate it, it made you feel like throwing up…Whatever you think about it, please leave your opinion. Even flames are accepted if you give a valid reason about why you're flaming the story. :)
Disclaimer: I don't own the LOTR characters, I'm just borrowing them for my amusement. Obviously…
He watched, as silently as the night, eyes gleaming in the darkness. He watched as the human's chest rose and fell in ragged breaths. He had watched the worried faces of the others, saw their lips moving in hushed grim tones before they had slept. He knew what was coming, but not a word was uttered as he watched Boromir slowly slipping in and out of consciousness.
It had all began after the Fellowship had been buried in snow at Caradhras and had reached the mines of Moria. Boromir had developed a hacking cough that had gradually deepened as they had ventured deeper into the mines. And now, as they were just near the woods of Lothlorien, he had finally succumbed to what was ailing him.
Aragorn had at first dismissed Boromir's cough, seeing it as more weakness on Boromir's part. Legolas had noticed though, that the tall man was struggling to keep up the pretense he was alright as they struggled onwards. Then after the incident with the cave troll, Legolas had noted him coughing blood into his hand and wisely said nothing, but as they had continued it became obvious to him that the human was very ill.
When they had arrived near the river Silverlode, Boromir appeared deathly pale and had excused himself from the company to collect firewood. However when he did not return after some time, finally Legolas and Aragorn had finally gone after him, and found him passed out near the river, shivering and muttering in mad ramblings. Aragorn suspected that the snow, combined with the damp of the mines and the stress of Gandalf's fall into darkness had only served to sicken him further.
Boromir now lay swathed in the others spare cloaks with a sickness that boiled his blood and caused him to cry out in fevered dreams. Legolas had been instructed to watch over him, and to wake Aragorn if his condition worsened.
As Legolas observed, the sickly human tossed and turned in his sleep, faint sweat drops matting his brow. Finally, Legolas tilted his head to a side as the human moaned in his sleep, unable to help his elven curiosity. With nothing better to do, he examined Boromir's face clinically. His eyes traced the smooth line of the human's jaw, moved upwards to the rust-coloured hair and then downwards to the curve of the human's lips.
It fascinated Legolas, the way humans could be so powerful and strong, yet so weak at the same time. The man lying in front of him was proof enough of that. One moment fighting, the next moment, lying in a fevered coma. Yet the human was still beautiful. Not like the elves were, ethereal in their beauty, but beautiful in his own way. So similar to Aragorn in manner and in race, but there was a faint difference that Legolas could not identify.
"Finduilas…"
The whisper was barely audible, but Legolas's hearing could make out the word clearly. He frowned, the name seeming familiar to him.
"Finduilas…"
Then Legolas remembered. Finduilas…the long departed wife of Denethor. Boromir was whispering his mother's name.
He then leaned closer, wondering what the human was dreaming about besides his mother. Illness was a foreign concept to him, but strange dreams were not, and judging from the expression on Boromir's face, he was not pleasantly sleeping.
"Why? Why did you go? We needed you…"
Boromir trailed off, as he began to cough alarmingly. Suddenly, he let out a gasping whoop, and seemed to stop exhaling altogether. Legolas rapidly took the human's head in his hands and tilted it back, allowing the man to breathe easier, and to Legolas's relief, he stopped coughing. Before Legolas could wake Aragorn, Boromir's breathing resumed its raspy rhythm. It was not normal, but it was better than a choking fit.
Sighing in ease, Legolas was about to gently lower the human's head back onto the robes when Boromir whispered again.
"Why did you leave us?"
Boromir let out a gasping sob, startling the elf.
"Why did you have to leave me?"
A faint tear seeped from the corner of a closed eye.
Legolas gazed downwards, bewildered at what he was supposed to do. Elves did not cry, and on rare circumstances did they ask for solace. But it seemed to Legolas that the human, even in his fevered dreams, might be in desperate need of comfort.
This was affirmed by the tentative grasping of his tunic by Boromir, as he cried in his sleep. Finally, trying to stop the human's anguished sobs, Legolas gave him comfort in the only way he knew how.
He leaned down and gently pressed his lips to Boromir's, quieting the tears that flowed. For a moment, Boromir lay still, then relaxed as Legolas cradled his head. Before the elf could stop himself, his tongue darted between the lips of the human, and he tasted him.
He was like darkness and light together, the elf decided. Both musky and sweet at the same time. Then he realised that he had been kissing him too long, and Legolas pulled away, fearful that Boromir might have stopped breathing again.
However, Boromir slept on. He did not stir from his sleep, but Legolas had no doubt he knew that someone had brought him countenance.
Whether it was considered the norm was another matter.
Content he had helped all he could, Legolas settled back for the rest of the night.
Legolas watched patiently as Boromir's temperature at first dropped, then stabilised.
He watched as the man's breathing slowly became more regular and the wheezing tone disappeared.
He watched as Boromir finally opened his grey eyes and looked up at him, confused, but no longer ill and feverish. Behind the woods the sun rose, streaking the soon-to-be bright blue sky with purple strikes.
"Legolas? What happened?"
He sat up slowly, shaking his head. "I passed out didn't I?"
"Yes you did. You were quite sick. We were all fearful for you."
"Oh. I apologise for my weakness then, " Boromir paused. "Legolas?"
"Hmmm?"
"Did I talk in my sleep? I had the strangest dreams…I didn't say anything did I?"
Legolas thought of the muttered words. He thought of Boromir's tears. He thought of the kiss he had given him. But Boromir was a proud man. He would not understand the beauty of vulnerability.
Legolas smiled.
"No, you did not."
Boromir grinned in return. "That is alright then."
Legolas turned away, cleaning his bow as the first bird broke into song on the fine blue morning.
The night had passed.
A/n
Hope you enjoyed, and once again, if it sucked too much, I'll re-write. ;D
-Magic Carpet Ride