rugbytackle | Stronger than Death 3/3 part A

Title : Stronger than Death 3/3 part A
Pairing : Aragorn/Boromir
Rating : G to NC-17, this part NC-17
Archiving : Rugbytackling, viggo_cursive, switch_bottoms
Summary : 40 years after Sauron's defeat, something strange is happening.
Authors :

mooms (Aragorn)

govi20 (Boromir)

A.N. We had to split in 2 parts, A and B, because LJ think this post too large

Previous parts you'll find : here

STRONGER THAN DEATH

Part 3/3

Aragorn

Stumbling to my feet, I run to join Faramir and cannot believe my eyes.

Boromir is standing in the clearing before him, looking too substantial to be a vision or a ghost. He turns to look at me and my heart misses a beat. He is dressed in rough, homespun clothes and is carrying a pack, but his dear face is the same and those green eyes, now wide with astonishment and some confusion !

He tries to say something, but I see that he is about to fall and step forward to catch him. Yes, he is indeed flesh and blood and I am only just able to take the weight as he slumps unconscious in my arms.

Faramir has tears streaming down his face, but he helps me to lift his brother onto my horse and we hurriedly set off for the city.

I hold Boromir in front of me, his head on my shoulder and my arms wrapped around him. I do not understand how he is here, exactly as we knew him forty years ago, but I am not going to question this miracle.

We do not encounter many people on our return and certainly none old enough to remember Boromir, so the journey passes without comment or incident.

Once in the palace, we hurry him to one of the guest rooms and place him gently on the bed, covering him with furs. Faramir hovers anxiously and asks if he should fetch the physician.

“Physically, he seems well, Faramir, but fetch Legolas. I think we may be in need of Elven wisdom here.”

Faramir hurries away and I pull up a chair by the bed and look at him. Almost immediately, his eyes open and it is clear that he does not know where he is, or what has happened. I try to reassure him and take hold of his hand, asking if he remembers who he is.

He speaks haltingly and tells me his name is Brand, but he knows Faramir, although they have never met and he knows me too.

I ache to take him in my arms and hold him close, but he is already confused and afraid, so I content myself with stroking his face, then Faramir returns with Legolas.

Legolas lays a slender hand on his forehead and gives him a goblet of some potion to drink, which sends him into a deep sleep.

Faramir watches with me for a while, then goes to tell Eowyn what has happened, but I stay in the chair, unwilling to leave his side. I know that Legolas has gone to speak with Arwen.

I must have dozed off myself, because I wake to find him sitting up and very wide awake.

He calls me by my name and asks me what has happened and I am so relieved that I kneel by the bed, take his face in my hands and kiss him on the lips.

Boromir, for he has now remembered, who he is, draws back a little in surprise at the caress. I curse myself for a fool, as the only time I ever kissed him before was when he was dying and he has so much to learn and try to understand, without me losing control.

“Are you hungry ?” I ask, to cover the difficult moment and he nods, so I call for the servants to bring food and wine and to attend to the fire.

“When you have eaten, Boromir, we have much to tell you. As you can see, Sauron was defeated and the ring destroyed.”

He blushes at my mention of the ring.

“And Frodo ? And the little ones ?”

His joy, when I tell him that all survived and that Gandalf too returned to us, is a delight to behold. I save for later the news that although they survived, Frodo and Gandalf sailed in to the West, long ago.

The food arrives and with it Faramir and Eowyn, who burst into tears as soon as they see him.

As he embraces them, I see realization dawning on Boromir’s face, as he asks us, wonderingly,

“How long have I been gone ?”

Boromir

His kiss startles me, but when he explains me that I have been unconscious for quite some time, I accept it for a sign of joy. He asks me if I am hungry, and I realize I really am very hungry, as though I did not eat in a long time.

The easy way in which he orders food with the servants tell me he is very much accustomed to being the King, and I start wondering about things.

I forget my worries when he tells me about Sauron’s defeat, the mentioning of the Ring making me look down in shame for a few moments. Relief fills my heart when he tells me about Merry and Pippin being saved and even Gandalf returning to the Fellowship.

The door opens, a servant carrying a large plate with delicious smelling food coming in, but I stare in shock at my brother following the servant. It is not that I do not recognize him, he has not changed that much, but he is an old man. I embrace him and his wife, while I try to soothe them as they are both crying.

A terrible thought rises up and I turn around to look at Aragorn, almost afraid to hear the answer.

“How long have I been gone ?”

He sighs, and steps closer, his eyes looking into mine, re-assuring me, his voice soft, almost a whisper, when he finally replies.

“Forty years.”

I gasp, and then my eyes catch my reflection in the large mirror hanging on the wall.

But I have not aged, I still look young, while you..,” and I turn around to face Faramir.

Again it is Aragorn who replies.

“We do not know what has happened, or where you have been, but you called yourself ‘Brand’ when we met you yesterday, and you had no recollection of who you really were. Legolas thinks you have been reincarnated into another person, until it was time to come home. It was he who brought you back as Boromir, and I cannot thank him enough for that.”

I sink down in a chair, while I try to comprehend what they have just told me.

They swarm around me like mother hens, filling my plate with food and handing me a goblet of wine. I keep gazing at Faramir, wondering how this old man can be my little brother, and how it all feels like being in a dream.

The room is very warm, I am beginning to smell myself, and I wonder when I bathed last or had clean clothes. I also feel the urge to be alone for a while, just to get my thoughts into order. So I tentatively ask Aragorn if I can take a bath, before I face the world.

He nods, and takes me by the arm, leading me out of the room. He has the air of a man used to being obeyed now, and for the moment I let him, smiling at Faramir and Eowyn while I follow him. There will be time later to show him I am still Boromir, and he’s still Aragorn to me, King or not.

He brings me to a big room, showing me the pool-like bath, sunken in the floor. He tells me about the adjustments his Queen has made in these quarters, this bathroom as he calls it, being only one of them. A stream of servants bring in hot water and fill the tub.

He hesitates, and for a moment there is something in his eyes I cannot read.

“Do you mind sharing the bath with me Boromir ? There is so much I want to speak with you about.”

The bath is certainly large enough and it is not as if we never shared a bath before in the rivers and streams on our journey. I still hesitate for a moment, but then I shrug.

“By all means my King, you are no longer a filthy Ranger, so I am honoured.”

Bowing my head in a mock salute, I start unfastening my clothes.

Aragorn

Boromir is understandably confused and stunned to learn that he has returned to us after 40 years. I see that although he knows Faramir to be his beloved baby brother, to see him as an old man has shocked him, beyond words. He has also learned of the death of his father, but we spared him the dreadful details.

As he eats and drinks, he often shakes his head, as if to clear away a fog and he moves slowly, as if still in a dream.

I am relieved, when he hesitantly asks for a bath and selfishly jump at the chance of being alone with him awhile. Arwen has had a magnificent bathing chamber made in these quarters, only marginally less grand that the one in our own suite.

I take charge, leading him into the bathroom and although he smiles at Faramir and Eowyn, I see his eyes narrow a little at my show of authority. This is certainly Boromir ! I wonder how easily he will bend his knee to his King and feel my body respond with a frisson of excitement, being thankful for my concealing robes.

While the bath is being filled, I tell him about the improvements Arwen has made to the palace and also speak of how the city has been renewed. It will give me great pleasure to give him a full tour later, but for now, I just want to be here with him.

I pause a moment, still reluctant to push too hard, but take hold of my courage and ask if I can share the bath with him.

He looks surprised, but after only a moment’s hesitation, his face opens into the smile I remember so well and he makes a joke about me being no longer the filthy Ranger of old.

We laugh together, which releases the tension and I take a deep breath , as he begins to take off his clothes.

The body gradually revealed to me is strong and golden, as I remember, although it does not bear the scars of battle he bore. My eyes are drawn inexorably to his broad and muscled chest, almost expecting to see the marks of three cruel arrows and I tentatively put out my hand to touch him, but stop short and meet his eyes.

“Forgive me, I expected to see the marks of those arrows, which slew you, but your skin is flawless. When you were reborn as Brand, you were given a brand new body !”

He laughs again, then turns and sinks in to the bath, sighing gratefully,

“ So My Liege, will you join me ?”

He watches me, as I slowly strip off the trappings of the King and stand before him as only a man. He looks unashamedly at my body and raises an eyebrow as his eyes light on the erection I am unable to hide, but he does not speak and I quickly descend into the water and sit at the opposite end of the tub.

We soak for a while in companionable silence, then he takes soap and cloths and begins to wash himself. I long to take the cloths and wash him, but I restrain myself.

Finally, he speaks,

“So, Aragorn, for naked as you are, I feel that I do not need to address you as King Elessar, we know that these 40years have passed for me as a boy and finally a man, living a very different life, but still connected by dreams with Gondor and with you. In truth, that life is now no more than a dream to me, but I remember that I always knew I did not belong in that world. But how have these years passed for you ? Like me you have not aged .”

“Boromir, for 40 years I have worked with Faramir and Arwen to rebuild Gondor and maintain peace. Legolas and Gimli have also served loyally and we have had peace and prosperity. I would have you see the beauty of Minas Tirith renewed, but I would first have you know that not a day has passed, when I have not thought of you and every year I have travelled to Amon Hen, where I made a memorial to you and there, I have told you what I should have said, while you lived.”

“And will you not say it now that I am returned ?”

I take a deep breath,

“Boromir I love you and more, I desire you!

Boromir

He stretches out his hands as if he wants to touch me, and for a moment I want him to, seeking the connection we had in some moments back in those days. But he draws back and apologizes, speaking about my vanished scars.

Slowly, memories of my life as Brand begin to come through, but only as dream-like shards. I remember very clearly remembering him though, and the way my body convulsed in pleasure the nights I dreamt about him and his hands on my body.

As Boromir, I remember the fight I fought with temptation. It was not merely the Ring that was drawing me near, but also this man I tried to resist, his claim on my city at first, then his claim on my loyalty, and finally the claim on my heart.

I turn around and step into the bath, sighing contently when the warm water welcomes me. I look at Aragorn, shedding layer after layer of his royal garments till he stands naked like me.

It is very hard to acknowledge his years, as his body is that of a warrior - scarred and all - but also the body of a man only just past his first youth. His cock standing proudly is in contrast with his years too, and makes me fully aware of my own arousal, hidden safely beneath the water.

I wonder if this man is what I’ve kept myself for in both lives, and why the thought of that does not really frighten me.

He steps into the bath and sits on the other side of it. For a moment we share a silence and then I take the soap and start washing myself, asking him about the past years. It is still hard to accept that we have not seen each other for forty years, especially when neither he nor I have visibly aged.

He tells me a little about his life here in the last four decades, and lets me know about him travelling to Amon Hen each year, in memorial of me, and how he there was finally able to tell me what he couldn’t when I was still alive. I can’t help but ask him.

“And will you not say it now that I am returned ?”

I can hear him take a deep breath,

“Boromir I love you and more, I desire you.!”

For long moments we just stare at each other, and then he moves from the other side of the bath and sits close to me. My heart beats so loud, I am almost unable to hear his whispered words.

“Boromir, do I need to wait even longer ?”

I look into his eyes, clouded and grey, like they were in my dreams. But this is not a dream, he’s my King and things are not what they were. In an effort to keep the tone light, I try to smile a little, but my voice comes out hoarsely when I speak.

“I hope you have not forgotten you are a married man Aragorn, what would your Queen say about this ? ”

“She’s an elf Boromir, open minded as all elves. She is not like other women, she will be delighted to see you again, even though she has always known how I felt about you.”

His fingers curling around my naked shoulder he pulls me even closer, just a small breath of open air between our faces.

“Do you not think this was meant to be ? That we are being given a second chance ? Is forty years not long enough to stop denial ? ”

With those words his hands cradle my face, and he leans in to kiss me. No short brushing of his lips this time, but locking his mouth firmly to mine, and when I try to speak his tongue slides in and I am beyond words.