Boromir's pace had quickened until he found himself almost running to the other side of the house of Elrond to find Lasmenel.
He bounded up the stairs from the lawn that ended at the porch in front of the rooms he knew were kept by Lasmenel. The evening was suddenly hushed as he looked around, wary of any unwanted attention. He ran a shaking hand through his hair, slightly damp from the exertion of his swift journey. He realised that he was trembling, a wave of anticipation and hope spreading through him, almost that which he felt before battle.
He stepped towards the door and knocked softly on the smooth wood surface.
There was no answer.
He knocked again and stepped back. Perhaps she was in the gardens, walking under the trees that she loved so much. He cast a wondering look in their direction. A light breeze whispered in the uppermost leaves of their canopy. Boromir cleared his throat uneasily.
"My lady". "Lasmenel".
He cast another backwards look at the gardens, silent and deep.
The door opened quietly without him realising.
He turned back to it. His sharp intake of breath tore the heady atmosphere.
Lasmenel stepped forward, a shimmering column in the dim light.
She was clothed in a long gown of a silver, silken fabric, that tapered into long slits of cloth around her wrists and waved at the floor. The gown revealed the clearness of her alabaster throat, and the contour of her shoulders dipped under the sleek material, the gown shot through with tiny bead like glittering droplets that flowed like a waterfall down her serpentine frame, rippling with lighted glints of silver and crystal.
Her eyes held the light of Telperion, piercing the night with their green depths.
Boromir stepped forward and clasped her hands in his own roughened fingers.
"My lady", he repeated in a hushed voice.
Lasmenel looked straight into his eyes.
"Have you made your choice?" she murmured in a low but clear voice.
Boromir swallowed.
"I have, my lady".
Lasmenel pressed his hand firmly.
"I too have made a choice this night".
Boromir looked down at her hands in his before raising his eyes to hers, almost pained by the light that shone from them.
Lasmenel slipped a hand from his grasp and smoothed his furrowed brow with her thumb and forefinger. Under her sure touch Boromir felt almost ashamed. She was radiant in the darkness and he was not even sure he was fit to speak to her at that moment. He was painfully aware of the uneven line of his tunic and the dampness that the run to her door had left in his hair and on his brow.
Lasmenel smiled, as if she could hear his thoughts.
"Fear not, son of Gondor. You are at your most fair to look upon this moment".
He blinked incredulously.
"I, my lady?"
Lasmenel smoothed his hair back from his face deftly.
"Yes, Boromir".
He protested uncertainly, "I do not have the kingly bearing of Aragorn, nor the princely or unmarked appearance of Legolas, perhaps not even the courage of the little one, Frodo, Lasmenel; and yet you call me fair to look upon-"
Lasmenel cut his speech off by drawing him to her so that their lips were touching.
"Fair and noble, I name you, Boromir. But it is not because of this, but your gentle ardour and your rough manner that I love you, Dearheart", she murmured against his mouth.
Boromir felt as if he was that moment made king of all the lands in Middle-Earth. He nearly gaped in amazement at her words and her confession of her love for him.
Lasmenel drew back, and smiled mock mischievously.
"You wish to tarry a while, son of Gondor?"
Boromir nearly stumbled over his words in his haste, grinning as he replied.
"I will tarry no longer, my lady".
He bent down, no longer haltingly, and kissed her tenderly, yet with a passion that took both their breaths away. Boromir slowly ran his hand to her shoulder and pulled her nearer to him, pressing her abruptly to his chest, delighting when she welcomed this rough treatment. Lasmenel kissed him with an equal urging, her hand nimbly looping around the belt at his waist and pressing him to her, gasping a little at the all consuming heat
of his mouth on hers, their bodies moulded together. Boromir let his hand travel to her slender waist as he tasted her, probing deeper into her mouth. Yet Lasmenel did not give in to his kiss so easily. In the midst of their duel like kiss she responded with an intense fervour that almost surpassed his own.
The very floor seemed to shift beneath his feet. Boromir moaned softly, trailing his lips down over her luminous throat and her smooth shoulder, pulling back a little the fabric of her gown. Lasmenel felt the smooth ridges of his teeth run over her skin pleasantly.
Then he dropped gradually onto his knee before her. Taking her hand in his while still grasping her waist with the other, he brought it to his lips and paid it tribute, sighing as he did so.
"Forgive me, I forget myself".
Lasmenel's face grew serious. She leant down, and, hooking an arm under his, lifted him up, brought him level with her.
"There is nothing to forgive, Boromir".
At the look of yearning in his face she smiled beautifully, "And you were content to only walk with me under the stars".
Lasmenel kissed him again, so ardently that it momentarily robbed him of the power of speech, so caught up was he in the irresistible taste of her.
When her lips left his he found the words to say.
"I would love you, my lady, I would have you by my side always, under the light of the trees and the stars. Though of these I would be oblivious, for I would be standing in the light of Telperion".
Lasmenel's eyes widened in surprise.
"You know the tale of my namesake?"
Boromir smiled sheepishly, "Lord Elrond's library is well stocked".
She smiled knowingly.
They kissed again, now more frantically. Boromir's wavering eyes were suddenly filled with an intense longing and a predatory gleam.
The murmuring of the trees rose as the two warriors withdrew into the quiet dark of the room and yielded to one another.