AraBoro ficlet: "spoken/unspoken" NC-17
Jul. 6th, 2003 02:22 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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lannamichaels. I told her a little anecdote about Aragorn, and rather left her hanging, so here it is. The rest of the story.
Title: spoken/unspoken
Author: Colleen/Seanchai (colleen@livejournal.com)
LOTR FPS, Aragorn/Boromir
Annnnnggggsty and NC-17
spoken/unspoken
It was never supposed to have happened, no, but it did, and once the path was taken, there was no turning back. Much like their quest. No turning back, and probably doomed.
Nighttime on the road south, and Aragorn didn't really trust Boromir, not with the Ring, not with the hobbits, not with the watch. Didn't trust him, didn't want him along, didn't want to want him. In the moonlight, he fell. Boromir caught him, cushioned him with his body and his hands and his clever lips; he kissed like a man, not like an elf or a woman or an elfwoman.
It still hurt to fall. Seemed like he fell and fell, over and over again, with the darkness, and always, Boromir beneath.
Nighttime was daytime was nighttime in Moria, and he still didn't trust Boromir, but he couldn't take it back once it was done. So he kept on taking, night after night, and he didn't say anything when Boromir tossed his head side to side and moaned and bit his lip, he didn't say anything because if he opened his mouth, the wrong things might come out. Things Aragorn, Son of Arathorn was not supposed to think or feel or taste when he bowed his head and licked the sweat from the crease of Boromir's neck. Salt and man and his eyes burned and his knees ached from the cold hard ground.
When he came inside Boromir, when he was pushed to his limits and pulled apart limb from limb, a traitor's death, this little death, he would make a single noise, shocking to his own ears. Try as he might, he could not stop it, a sort of strangled sob, caught in his throat and then torn from him, almost words but not quite. Not yet.
Nighttime in Lothlorien, and he still didn't trust himself with Boromir, and he was right. The hobbits snored and the elves dreamed their waking dreams, and under a stand of silvery trees, Aragorn fell. Words spoken and unspoken were balled up in his chest, beating against his ribs to the drumming of his heart.
It was as close to a proper bed as they'd ever get, and Boromir on his hands and knees and somehow that seemed wrong, too coarse, too rough. So Aragorn turned him over, held him like a lover instead of pinning him like a conqueror, and for a moment Boromir's eyes shone bright before he closed them. Aragorn cupped his face, kissed his forehead, and pushed into Boromir's body.
The words inside him were bubbling up, threatening to spill over; he rocked and Boromir gasped, bit his lip, bit Aragorn's. Aragorn buried his face in the salty crease of Boromir's neck, and at that moment, the moment when everything inside him was bursting like a dam after springtime storms, he gasped and said,
My lord...
But perhaps he said nothing, after all. Boromir did not speak of it, and a day later, was gone.
lannamichaels. I told her a little anecdote about Aragorn, and rather left her hanging, so here it is. The rest of the story. Title: spoken/unspoken
Author: Colleen/Seanchai (colleen@livejournal.com)
LOTR FPS, Aragorn/Boromir
Annnnnggggsty and NC-17
spoken/unspoken
It was never supposed to have happened, no, but it did, and once the path was taken, there was no turning back. Much like their quest. No turning back, and probably doomed.
Nighttime on the road south, and Aragorn didn't really trust Boromir, not with the Ring, not with the hobbits, not with the watch. Didn't trust him, didn't want him along, didn't want to want him. In the moonlight, he fell. Boromir caught him, cushioned him with his body and his hands and his clever lips; he kissed like a man, not like an elf or a woman or an elfwoman.
It still hurt to fall. Seemed like he fell and fell, over and over again, with the darkness, and always, Boromir beneath.
Nighttime was daytime was nighttime in Moria, and he still didn't trust Boromir, but he couldn't take it back once it was done. So he kept on taking, night after night, and he didn't say anything when Boromir tossed his head side to side and moaned and bit his lip, he didn't say anything because if he opened his mouth, the wrong things might come out. Things Aragorn, Son of Arathorn was not supposed to think or feel or taste when he bowed his head and licked the sweat from the crease of Boromir's neck. Salt and man and his eyes burned and his knees ached from the cold hard ground.
When he came inside Boromir, when he was pushed to his limits and pulled apart limb from limb, a traitor's death, this little death, he would make a single noise, shocking to his own ears. Try as he might, he could not stop it, a sort of strangled sob, caught in his throat and then torn from him, almost words but not quite. Not yet.
Nighttime in Lothlorien, and he still didn't trust himself with Boromir, and he was right. The hobbits snored and the elves dreamed their waking dreams, and under a stand of silvery trees, Aragorn fell. Words spoken and unspoken were balled up in his chest, beating against his ribs to the drumming of his heart.
It was as close to a proper bed as they'd ever get, and Boromir on his hands and knees and somehow that seemed wrong, too coarse, too rough. So Aragorn turned him over, held him like a lover instead of pinning him like a conqueror, and for a moment Boromir's eyes shone bright before he closed them. Aragorn cupped his face, kissed his forehead, and pushed into Boromir's body.
The words inside him were bubbling up, threatening to spill over; he rocked and Boromir gasped, bit his lip, bit Aragorn's. Aragorn buried his face in the salty crease of Boromir's neck, and at that moment, the moment when everything inside him was bursting like a dam after springtime storms, he gasped and said,
My lord...
But perhaps he said nothing, after all. Boromir did not speak of it, and a day later, was gone.
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no subject
Date: 2003-07-06 01:06 am (UTC)*sobs*
*wails*
Okay, between you and
This is absolutely lovely, absolutely sad, and gut-wrenching in the best way possible. Thank you. //worships
no subject
Date: 2003-07-06 11:00 am (UTC)Poor sweet. *pets* Thanks for reading, and just remember the words of those wise Borg: resistance is futile. ;)
no subject
Date: 2003-07-06 01:30 pm (UTC)My name is... Hugh. Infect me with the FPS virus so I can go back to my people and spread the love. :-) I miss ST:TNG. Watching reruns just ain't the same anymore.
Re:
Date: 2003-07-06 04:39 pm (UTC)Me too. I know.
Go, take the FPS and conquer.
no subject
Date: 2003-07-06 04:49 pm (UTC)Re:
Date: 2003-07-06 04:55 pm (UTC)*g*
*kiss*
no subject
Date: 2003-07-06 02:41 am (UTC)That was just so... oh, hell. I have no words. One of the saddest fics ever. It's so beautiful.
*cries a little*
(held him like a lover instead of pinning him like a conqueror
My lord...
*adores!*)
Re:
Date: 2003-07-06 10:06 am (UTC)But thank you. *cuddles Cin and gives her a clean hankie*
no subject
Date: 2003-07-06 07:02 am (UTC)But perhaps he said nothing, after all. Boromir did not speak of it, and a day later, was gone.
Just heart breaking.
Re:
Date: 2003-07-06 10:12 am (UTC)thank-you!
no subject
Date: 2003-07-06 08:18 am (UTC)held him like a lover instead of pinning him like a conqueror,
*sobs harder*
no subject
Date: 2003-07-06 10:56 am (UTC)What can I do to cheery you up, hmm? How bout that nice sunny VigBean?
no subject
Date: 2003-07-06 10:21 am (UTC)Re:
Date: 2003-07-06 10:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-06 01:29 pm (UTC)Re:
Date: 2003-07-06 04:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-06 02:07 pm (UTC)And I am in love with this line:
Nighttime was daytime was nighttime in Moria
You've captured the pain of words that cannot be said beautifully *S*
no subject
Date: 2003-07-06 04:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-07 05:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-07-07 07:29 am (UTC)It kind of has to be, unless you're just pulling out a single moment and not discussing the end, and even then, you *know*.
I had goosebumbles the whole time I wrote this. Because I've seen this stupid movie a hundred times, and I STILL cry every time he dies. *sigh*
Thanks, hey?
no subject
Date: 2003-07-24 09:55 pm (UTC)I love the tripling in this, the echoes: didn't trust him with Ring/hobbits/watch, not like an elf, a woman, an elfwoman ... insistent, like a pulse.And ooh, that 'traitor's death', and Aragorn's acknowledgement of Boromir as 'lord'. Or perhaps not.
Painful, but wonderfully written.
no subject
Date: 2003-07-24 10:01 pm (UTC)