Title: Untitled
Author: Abbi ([email protected])
Website: none
Rating: NC-17
Pairing / Main characters: Legolas/Boromir, later Legolas/Boromir/Aragorn
Series/Sequel: unfinished, parts 1-5
Summary: Exactly what keeps them occupied on those long nights on the journey of the Fellowship.
Disclaimer: If I had invented these characters they'd be doing this kind of thing all the time!
Notes: Just try to believe the dialogue. Or ignore it. And pretend they're in Sharpe costume, I'm sure that would help! I think I'm going to have fun with Legolas and his lonely nights! As for setting, just pretend they've stopped somewhere awhile..
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Untitled 1
By Abbi
Legolas paced the cliff top silently, casting an occasional eye on his sleeping companions. They had been weary after the day's long march, but he, as always, was well rested only moments after they called a halt to the march. The night was cold, and his skin prickled under his loosened clothing. He was surprisingly bored - the events of the previous night had given him an appetite he had been without for years. He crept towards the sleeping Aragorn, and knelt by him, contemplating waking him up for a little light entertainment. As he extended his hand to Aragorn's shoulder, the ranger stirred a little, and moved his hand to his sword.
Not wanting to meet with decapitation at such an early stage of their journey, Legolas turned away and left Aragorn to sleep. Anyway, he reflected, they would have plenty of other opportunities. He paced the skyline, impatiently deciding what to do for the next few hours. Surveying the company, he passed over the heap of sleeping hobbits - too short and insubstantial for his tastes, Gandalf and Gimli had too much beard, Aragorn was lovely but tired, and...Boromir. Now there was an idea.
Boromir slept as a true soldier - hand on sword, ready to fight at a mooment's notice. He lay a little distance from the others, and appeared to be sleeping soundly. Legolas tried hard to disguise the mischevious look on his face as he took an arrow from his quiver - he too was fully armed - and gently bbrushed the quills against Boromir's throat. Boromir stirred a little, but did not wake.
Legolas had a different idea now, and, deciding it was much the best plan, he replaced the arrow and drew a knife from his side. In one movement, he clapped a hand to Boromir's mouth and placed the knife at his throat. Boromir awoke with a start but, feeling the cold metal against his jugular, did not move. Instead, he looked to Legolas as if he had been betrayed by all that meant anything to him. Legolas couldn't help but feel a little satisfaction at this. In silent conversation, he instructed that he would move the knife if Boromir would follow him, silently. Boromir twitched his assent.
Legolas allowed Boromir to get to his feet, and with the knife to his back, pushed him as far as the clearing he had occupied the previous night. He let slip the knife, and, taking Boromir around the neck, kissed him softly several times. For a moment it seemed as if Boromir warmed to him, but suddenly he drew his sword, making as if to seriously damage the elf. Legolas was too quick for him, however, and had stepped some way back, an arrow to his bow already.
"You can't leave me now", Legolas whispered. "I'd shoot you before you took a pace."
Boromir did not drop his sword, but he spoke cautiously.
"What did you bring me here for?"
"You know what I brought you here for. And you wouldn't've come if you didn't think the same."
Through the darkness, Legolas' sharp vision almost certainly perceived the colour that flushed through Boromir's irritated expression.
"Come on. Don't play the innocent. That's no fun."
"And what is your idea of fun?"
"I'll show you. If you come a little closer."