rugbytackle | NEXT PART

I'm so sorry, I know I'm really slow, but I have to take lessons for my driver's license and there are a couple of new ideas my hyperactive muses got into my head, that have to be taken care of...
So this part is longer, but I'm not entirely satified with the result, not at all, sorry, again...

Title: Hope and Despair Part 5
Author: Sadness1986
Pairing: Aragorn/Boromir
Rating: NC-17
Warning: angst, AU, language
Summary: There's no hope in despair.
Notes: You insisted, so I'm writing a series, I didn't plan at all. And I'll take revenge, you know me well. I just say cliff-hangers, angst and angst...
And I sometimes mix book-plot with movie-plot... Sorry.

In Aragorn's tent before Elrond arrives with Anduril...

"Estel, beloved", a Boromir's voice echoes through the sleepy silence of Aragorn's mind, then the ghost of a touch on his cheek.
"Can you see me, uncrowned king? I wear the crown of Gondor. The crown of pain, death and despair, I wore it all my life.
My crown breaks me apart, I can see myself fading, slowly, ever so slowly. Heal me, my king, with your healer's hands and mouth and body."
Gasping, Aragorn scrambles backwards, clutching the blanket to his chest. His heart pounds against the cage of ribs, it'd imprisoned in, but another rhythm resounds in his bones, stronger, steadier.
"I curse the Valar, curse them for making you so beautiful and me so foolish. I would give everything to be able to touch you again, to feel you tremble and respond to my sinful worship. Did you know, that your eyes darken, when thrust inside you? They look like a nightly sky covered in million stars mirrored in a dark river... I never could tear my gaze of your slender legs. Wingfoot, they call you, because they carry you so fast and elegantly. All I thought about was, how would they feel wrapped around me, stubbornly setting pace, angle and depth of our coupling.
But you denied me this pleasure.
Now I finally can see behind your composed self, see the man you are and I see no king at all."
Aragorn buried his face in his hands and tried to hide his tears, but Boromir whispered mercilessly to him again: "All you want is to curl up and sleep forever, forgetting the world around you. You are weary of who you are, you are weary of hiding and fighting, of running away and of killing. All you want is to be loved, worshipped, possessed and held through all the darkness of your life. You want to be free, to let go of everything in a lover's arms.
And I know, which gift I received from you."
"Boromir", Aragorn cried out, his callused hands clenching in the soft fabric of his blankets, his whole body tense and sweaty, as if in pain.
"You gave me your virginity to take and I took it without knowing about it.
How old are you, Aragorn? 86? You denied your body this urges all this time? Why? Did you keep yourself pure for your elven princess? Yes, I know, she told you to, if you really love her, you would, she said. Fucking little tart laughed behind your back every time she smelled innocence on you. Did you, that it turns her on? Makes her all wet and hot and seeking some elf to satisfy her hunger?"
Aragorn was shaking and sobbing now, whimpering: "Stop, please stop tormenting me..."
"I'm sorry, beloved", Boromir whispers soothingly, "I never wanted to torture you, but you need to know this: whatever happens, marry her, Gondor needs an heir."
"But I don't love her. I want to be with you...", he protests.
"As much as I love you, I hate her, but you will do what I tell you."