Aragorn is in a Bit of a Pickle.

I'd like to thank you for the positive feedback. It's helping me turn this story into something good, which of course is a beautiful thing.

Reading back now, I can see how random Boromirs' appearance is but I felt that I didn't want to completely remove Boromir from the story, because, In a nutshell, I like him too, too much.

I almost prefer that this hasn't been jumped on by loadsa' people. I've had two fantastic bits of advice from each of the versions of this, and that's good enough for me .

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Stupid Elves and their stupid, stupid traditions. As if it wasn't punishment enough that I woke up to a pile of perfectly groomed hair and the taste of man-perfume in my mouth. What was the word he used for it? Ah, yes. Cologne. Fancy word to cover up the fact he's a lad wearing a perfume that smells like flowers, if you ask me.

So I suppose it all started when I first met that stupid, stupid, stupid Elf.

"Pleased to meet you, Dúnedain." He said. "Hope we may meet again" he said.

Okay, I can admit he was kind of handsome. Maybe beautiful in that typical brown-eyes, blonde haired-I-Like-To-Trick-Good-Ol'-Aragorn-Into-Stuff-He-Will-Regret kind of way, if you like the look of a woman on a man. Other then that, I saw nothing in him except another prince. I already had Elrohir and Elladan, who did enough princing and prancing as it was, I didn't need another. So that was the first beginning.

The real start to my problems was when we reached Lothlorien. I was dealing with never having the prospect of seeing Arwen again. I thought my friend, my teacher, was dead, and to top it of, Boromir permanently whining around me. All the time. Over and over and over and over again. I'm telling you - that man had persistence.

I was feeling lonely and hurt. I would of reached out to anybody I saw bathing that day, be they man, woman, heh, even Gimli. And that's saying something - have you felt his beard? Euw. Prickly.

So why did it have to be Legolas?

He was bathing, and I was lonely, and he asked me to join him, in a perfectly friendly way. Not many Elves expect to be jumped by a Ranger as they wash, you see. That is, not to say he couldn't stop me. Oh no, I've seen Legolas throw a punch that could knock out a horse.

To take a long story and to make it shorter - we were bathing, and we ended up doing something that was Perfectly Natural When a Man Likes an Elf. Four times.

I must of fallen asleep after that, because I blinked and then I opened my eyes I was lying on my 'bed' (A sheet of silk lying gracefully over the root of a tree, thank you Grandma') with Legolas's happy little face beaming at me.

"Erg... a...fore..." I mumbled, and turned away from him, trying to find a position where bark wasn't trying to be one with my spine.

"It was a good night." Legolas said eventually, his voice dripping with joy.

I strained my eyes open again, vision all blurry. Then I remembered.

"Oh..."

My blood, spit and previous meal, in a bid to get away from me and my plight, tried to flee my body through my mouth. I think my kidneys were in the mess on the floor, too, by the end of it. Lucky them.

Legolas was a bit puzzled by this reaction. In all of his long life, filled with killing, fighting, hurting, he had never seen someone throw up before. He stared at the mess in front of me, and I could almost hear his thoughts. 'What is that... goo? Is it his kidneys? Is this how humans give birth? Is that our child? No... Could it be a gift? A strange human gift? Why is he heaving like that? Is he going to do it again?'

I cleaned myself of as quickly as I could manage with the aid of my water flask and a spare set of clothes. All the while ignoring Legolas's devoted glances at me. No. If I couldn't see it, it wasn't there... couldn't see...wasn't there... it became a mantra for me as I pulled a shirt over my head.

"Aragorn?"

"Can't see isn't-"

"What?"

"I mean! - yes?"

A sly grin slid across his mouth. "You do know that we're-"

I jumped up as if I had heard a loud noise suddenly and when I tried to speak it was high and squeaky and like it was when I was going through what Elrond told me was my 'cocoon' phase when I was turning into a man and got all hairy. "WHAT WAS THAT!" I practically screamed and pointed in a random direction. "OH NO! THE RING BARER!" I ran wildly, my legs all over the place, not even sure if I was going in the same direction as I had pointed.

"Aragorn." Legolas yelled after me. I turned with something of a crazy look in my eyes.

"You forgot your sword. And daggers. And trousers." Legolas said rather dryly, as he threw a bundle at me. I caught it while I ran, taking care to trip over as many roots as possible.

When I felt I had gone far enough (or, at least as far as I was prepared to run with nothing to cover the lower regions that had gotten me in this mess...) I took the care to duck behind a tree, sorting out the bundle I was clutching. Wanting speed rather then logic, I defied the laws of physics by putting both legs through my trousers at once, then belted up my sword. I felt a little better after this - its wonders the power of proper attire and a great big get-lost sword can do for the self esteem.

I stood up, brushing my shirt clean and prepared for the battle that lay ahead, striding ahead with a purpose that would knock the Valer themselves of their feet.

And totally failed to see the ball of Gondorian ball of chain mail and hair that came around the corner of the path.

"Owowowowow." He gasped. I was sitting on his legs.

"Hallo there Boromir." I said, laughing nervously. We were face to face. I could see his nose hair.

"Do you have to sit on me?" He asked with a groggy morning voice that told me, even if I was wide awake, others weren't. He looked worried (although, thinking back, that was probably because he wasn't used to being sat on by the Chief of the Dúnedain). It made me wonder if he had the same problems as I did. Probably not.

"Why do you insist in asking questions?" I muttered, standing up. I dragged Boromir up after me.

He looked me up and down. "Yes. Why are your trousers on backwards?"

This is the way of Our favorite Gondorian. Ask questions he doesn't want to know the answer to.

"Boromir, do you know much about Elves, and marriage?" I asked, feeling the overwhelming erg to confess.

"Well until yesterday I thought that Elven women ate the flesh of the men they bedded." He said, looking at me suspiciously.

"Oh. Oooh. So that's why you were looking at me strangely when I told you about Arwen. I thought you were jealous, you know." I wanted to wanted to laugh, I wanted to cry, I wanted to kill Legolas, if Arwen ever found out about all of this, she would kill us both.

"I am now that I know she isn't going to devour you." He murmured. I'd like to take the time to say that this wasn't a one off. This was how Boromir acted all the time. This is what we had to live with. No wonder he came to Rivendell alone - I know the thought of spending four months traveling with the guy would make me want to take my chances fighting Sauron by myself.