(WIP 16/19 PG-13 more talk than action)
By: Ithiliana
Section Rating Above.
Overall: G at start and in places but overall R, possibly NC-17 eventually (much much later but just in case—I don’t quite trust Aragorn and Boromir...)
Pairings: Frodo/Faramir, Boromir/Aragorn, Pippin/Merry (implied) </i></b>

Feedback: Always appreciated!

Disclaimer: Original characters and storyline belong to the Tolkien estate. This story is fan fiction, written with no intention to trespass on copyright, and I make no money off it at all.

Location Info: Because this fic contains both interspecies and sons_of_gondor elements inextricably intertwined, the only place I’m posting it at the moment is my own lj (later on, when I am able to develop a web page, it’ll be there as well). I will identify parts on my “memorable posts” lists, numerically, as I post, for anyone who comes in later on. At this stage, the total story is a WIP though I know the ending. I’m starting to post because I have become too obsessed with polishing earlier sections and not with writing later sections (a problem I often have), and the solution is to start posting.

Author’s Notes: AU change is Faramir sneaking out of Minas Tirith to follow Boromir in secret, forcing him to take Faramir along on journey to Imladris. Then the fun begins: like one of those elaborate domino constructions. How does this change set up a whole new pattern for the plot dominoes to fall? More info below.

Summary Part 16: Faramir talks to Boromir, Frodo talks to Merry and Pippin. The immediate problem is resolved, but when Aragorn talks to Boromir, more arise.



First domino: Sam is not along on quest, having married Rosie and started family back in the Shire. Faramir so fills Sam’s narrative slot (looking after Frodo) that this change seemed inevitable. Other dominoes are more plot related, so you’ll have to read it to see the pattern.

Canon Issues: This AU fic draws on both Tolkien’s book and Jackson’s film.

From the Book: age of characters and dates/chronology of events. Specifically: the Council of Elrond took place on October 25 but (in the book) the Fellowship does not leave Rivendell until December 25. Elrond sends scouts out to get more information, and everybody hangs around Rivendell for two months. Time for additional character interaction read hot sex. Additionally, the Fellowship enters Lothlorien January 15 and leaves February 16. A month. In Lothlorien. More time for more interaction. The dates in the text, months and years, are drawn from Tolkien’s Chronology in The Appendix published in Return of the King) .

From the Film: Well, what do you think—those gorgeous males. So I’m drawing from the film for character descriptions, certain settings, and some major scenes. This fic assumes a reader has some knowledge of book and film; and while I am not specifically quoting, I am not resisting memories of phrases and terminology which may be woven in (although in different characters’ mouths).

Blended: Some aspects of this story blend elements from Book and Film (especially with regard to characterization, background biographical info of main characters, relationships, etc.)

To sum up, I’m basically drawing from whichever canonical source (book or movie) best suits purpose of AU plot/characterization/relationships. Which means ultimately leading to more hot sex!


FROM RIVENDELL TO RAUROS

January 22, 3018

Boromir made a pretense of putting food on a plate, filling a goblet with a bubbly clear liquid with an Elvish name that did not translate into the Common Tongue from what Legolas had said. But since the drink was delicious, Boromir’d decided he didn’t care.

He followed Faramir outside the pavilion and onto the lawn. There they could sit and talk where the others could not hear. Boromir placed his plate and goblet on one of the flat rocks that was near the fountain and sank down, sitting cross-legged, his back still to the pavilion.

Faramir sat on the ground on the other side of the rock. He began eating hungrily.

“I suppose they’ll know what we’re talking about,” Boromir said. “But I seem to make things worse every time I try to talk to Merry and Pippin.”

“What has caused this upset?” Faramir asked quietly.

Boromir stared at his plate, pushing the food around. It was surprisingly hard to talk to his brother about his problem. If there was anyone else, he would have preferred it. But although Boromir was sure Aragorn knew more about Hobbits than Legolas or Gimli, he could not face trying to talk to Aragorn about Pippin’s proposition, or the misunderstanding afterwards.

“Boromir?”

Boromir sighed, began to speak, still not looking up. “Yesterday, Pippin asked me to accompany him when he left the pavilion, for safety’s sake I thought. I was happy to do so, and we walked for some time, then sat beside a stream. He was melancholy, missing his home, but then he…” Boromir struggled for words. “He proposed that we, well, that we have sex.”

Boromir heard Faramir choke, then cough. He looked up to see Faramir take a hasty drink from his silver goblet.

“Yes, I’m sure it’s quite amusing,” Boromir said stiffly. “I could not accept his offer.”

“My apologies,” Faramir spoke, had to pause to clear his throat. “Truly, I was not laughing at you, but at how we’ve had somewhat similar experiences with hobbits. They are…not shy in pursuing what they want.”

Boromir relaxed slightly, glad to have his recent thoughts confirmed.

“Yes, well, that was only the start. Later, Merry and Pippin followed me and wanted to know why I said no. When we talked, I came to understand that my sense of them as younglings was wrong.” Boromir paused again, but Faramir said nothing.

“I also owe you my apology,” Boromir forced himself to continue, to look directly at his brother. “I was angry with you over your involvement with Frodo because I had thought him an innocent as well. I gather I was wrong.”

Faramir nodded. “I made the same mistake,” he said, “Although I thought Frodo older than Merry and Pippin. Yet I was shocked to learn he is fifty years old.”

“Fifty!” Boromir was forty and astounded to learn that Frodo was older than he. “How can that be?”

Faramir shrugged. “How can they eat twice what a warrior of Gondor does and remain so slim,” he said, smiling. “They’re hobbits. I suppose just as horses and dogs eat differently and age differently, so Hobbits and Men are different in some ways.” Faramir smiled at Boromir. “Although there are similarities. I don’t know enough to say for certain although I imagine Gandalf could have helped us. He told me once that he thought the two peoples were related. I gather from stories Frodo has told me that Merry and Pippin are some years younger than he, but they’re not children. And none of them are innocents when it comes to sex.” Faramir paused, then said, “Quite the contrary, I understand.”

Boromir pushed his plate aside, unable to continue the pretense that he was eating, and drained his goblet.

“What you tell me doesn’t seem sufficient reason for Merry and Pippin being upset,” Faramir said. “Did something else happen?

“Yes. Although I now know they’re not children, still, I’ve been teaching them, and when I look at them, I cannot see them as, well, as potential lovers. They still seem so childlike. And in some ways are so innocent of the world outside the Shire. When I was trying to explain that, to tell them how hard it was not to see them as children, I mentioned our law against abusing children, and…I don’t know, somehow that upset them terribly. They have no such law, and it seems that, because of that, no such thing could possibly exist in their world. They now see Gondor as this terrible place, and…” Boromir trailed off.

The more he talked, the more confused he became. He was afraid that the hobbits he liked now saw him as a threat to them. They’d left the pavilion early, before he awoke, and he’d not seen them all day. When he’d returned for daymeal, they were eating, but had refused to speak to him. What could Faramir say or do after all to help him?

“I think I see,” Faramir said slowly. “Frodo and I’ve not talked about that law. But what he has told me of the Shire seems impossibly peaceful and law-abiding, so unlike Gondor that I’ve found it hard to believe at times.”

Boromir nodded.

“I think I’ll have to talk to Frodo,” Faramir said. “He may be the only one who can make sense of this and talk to his cousins. Our peoples are so different that such misunderstandings can easily happen. If they can even understand that much, it should reassure them.”

Boromir was relieved. He would much prefer fighting a battle to trying to deal with such problems himself. “My thanks,” he said. “I’m sorry that what I said upset Merry and Pippin, and I want us to remain friends for the rest of our journey.”

Faramir stood, gathering his dishes.

Boromir looked up at him. “I know I have no right to ask,” he said, “and will understand if you do not wish to answer. But I truly do not understand how, why...”

Faramir looked gravely at him. “What?”

“There are such differences between our peoples, differences that seem so insurmountable at times, that I wonder how you could love a hobbit.” Boromir bit his lip, knowing he was expressing himself clumsily, not wanting to anger his brother again, but wanting to try to understand this choice.

He knew Faramir had more experience with involvements with others, having an ease with people that allowed him to love and then move on without ill feelings on either side. Boromir had sometimes envied him that ease. Boromir’s own life had been more focused on warfare and command, and until recently he had not felt this choice to be a problem.

“Ah.” Faramir stood a while, looking over Boromir’s head, watching Frodo, Boromir assumed. Finally, quietly, Faramir spoke, almost as if to himself. “I suppose the only answer I can give you is that I did not fall in love with a hobbit. I fell in love with Frodo.”

Faramir paused a moment and, when Boromir said nothing, moved past him toward the pavilion. As he passed Boromir, Faramir rested his hand on Boromir’s shoulder for a moment.

* * * * * * *

Sitting with Merry and Pippin, Frodo ate in silence. Hobbit table talk tended to come only near the end of the meal when the participants were in the happy state of filling in the corners with favorite tidbits and drinks. The early and middle stages of the meal were for distribution and eating of food, with talk being perceived as a rude attempt to disrupt the most important business.

Judging by the plates and bowls scattered around them, Merry and Pippin had not been too upset to eat heartily which reassured Frodo.

When Frodo finished his first plateful, he returned for a second one, choosing mostly fruits and sweet pastries, and filling a goblet with the clear drink favored by the elves. This time, when he returned to sit with his cousins, he spoke first.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Merry and Pippin looked at each other, started talking at the same time, then stopped to allow the other one to finish. Frodo sighed, nibbling at a pastry.

“Merry, why don’t you tell me,” he suggested.

Pippin nodded.

“Did you know that there’s a law in Gondor against people having sex with children?” Merry demanded.

Frodo set his pastry down and looked at Merry. “No,” he said. “I hadn’t heard that.”

“Boromir told us,” Merry said. “Explaining why he turned Pippin down.”

“Wait a minute,” Frodo said. “Why he did what?”

Speaking hurriedly, Merry described Pippin’s proposal, Boromir’s refusal, and the conversation about sex, children, and Gondorian law.

Frodo, remembering their talk in Moria, thought he should not have been surprised to hear what Pippin had done. But he was surprised to hear the rest of it, especially the rudeness on Merry and Pippin’s part. The issue of Gondorian law was so confusing that he tried to set it aside for a while. He would have to talk to Faramir about that.

Looking at Pippin, he asked, “You propositioned Boromir, but when he refused you, you both kept after him? When he said he wasn’t interested? Pippin!”

Pippin blushed and looked away. “I know,” he said. “But I didn’t think he really meant it. And then, to find out he thought we were children. That’s awful. Does Faramir think you’re a child?”

“NO,” Frodo said, shocked. “Of course not. We talked. He knows my age. Although, he was surprised to learn it. I think he thought I was younger, and possibly a virgin.”

Merry patted Pippin on the back. “See, I told you so.”

“I know, but after what Boromir said, I just wasn’t sure. They’re so strange sometimes.”

“And,” Frodo noted, “if Boromir thought you were children and turned you down for that reason, it shows how honourable he is. Why would that upset you?”

Merry nodded. “I hadn’t thought of that,” he admitted. “He also talked about teaching us as a reason for saying no.”

Frodo picked up his pastry again. “So, I gather you told him you weren’t children, and then what?”

“That’s when he started talking about it being against the law in Gondor,” Pippin said.

Merry interrupted him. “Actually, he said that while he understood he’d made a mistake, he still looked on us as like children, and then he talked about the law. And then Pippin got upset.”

“You did too.”

“Not as upset as you.”

Pippin poked Merry. “I bet you were.”

“Weren’t.”

Frodo cleared his throat loudly. They stopped poking each other and looked at him, grinning.

“Apparently you’re not upset any more?” Frodo asked.

Pippin shrugged. “I guess not. I’m still confused. Gondor must be a terrible place if they have to have such laws. And he seemed to think the Shire was as bad, that we had or needed to have laws.”

Frodo finished his pastry and wiped his hands on a cloth, then picked up his goblet and drained it. The differences between Gondor and the Shire when it came to laws and governing were vast, he knew, and were reason for some of the tension between Aragorn and Boromir.

Since the only official in the Shire was the Mayor of Michael Delving whose main job was to give speeches, Frodo’d had a hard time understanding why Aragorn being the Heir of Isildur might be a problem for Boromir and Faramir’s father until Faramir had explained. And Frodo was still a bit confused about what status Denethor had, and what would happen when Aragorn came to the city. Frodo didn’t exactly want to try to explain what little he knew to Merry and Pippin.

“Gondor is a large country,” he said, “and Minas Tirith a huge city with many people living closely together. It’s much larger than Bree. They’re all Big Folk. They don’t know everyone in the city, like we know everyone in Hobbiton and Bywater. Many aren’t related to each other. Of course, they live and work differently than Hobbits. They may need these laws, but I don’t think it can be that terrible a place. Look at Faramir and Boromir, how much they’ve helped us, what a journey they were willing to make to try to save their city from Sauron’s attacks. There may be some people there who are bad, but then I cannot say all hobbits are equally good.”

“But nobody would hurt a child,” Pippin protested.

“I know, Pippin. I’m not saying they would. But we were all pretty frightened of Lobelia Sackville-Baggins when we were growing up. And I hadn’t been back to Farmer Maggot’s farm for quite a few years, not since you both convinced me to help you steal his mushrooms!”

Merry and Pippin laughed, and Frodo relaxed.

“I’m sure Boromir would be glad to talk to you more about Gondor, and his city,” he said. “But not if you keep teasing him. I know you’re not used to anybody but me saying no, Pippin, but you cannot keep bothering him. I’m sure he means what he says.”

Pippin nodded, looking down.

“And, Merry, what were you doing getting involved?” Frodo asked.

Merry shrugged. “Well, after Aragorn told me no, I thought I might as well see if Boromir’d be interested.”

Frodo shut his eyes, shuddering. “You asked Aragorn,” he started, then, “No. Don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.” At least he could be sure neither would try to bother Aragorn the way they had been going after Boromir.

“Frodo?”

Frodo turned to see Faramir standing across the pavilion. Boromir was still sitting out on the lawn, his back to them, dimly lit by the silver lanterns.

“May I join you?”

“Please,” Frodo said, relieved.

Faramir crossed to sit with them.

“My brother fears that what he said upset you,” he said, looking at Merry and Pippin. “I think there may be a misunderstanding. I wanted to talk to Frodo and to you both to see if we could come to a better understanding of each other.”

Frodo looked at his cousins who did not seem inclined to speak. “I think there was some misunderstanding,” Frodo said, “though I also think my cousins have behaved badly. In fact, I think they owe your brother an apology.”

Faramir looked surprised. “Truly? I think my brother also wants to offer his apologies. Well, if that’s the case, I would suggest that everyone wait for morning. I think we’d all be the better for some sleep. Let me tell Boromir.”

He rose and walked back to his brother.

Frodo looked sternly at his cousins. “You will apologize tomorrow,” he said. “Won’t you?”

They nodded.

Merry hesitated, then spoke. “I’ve been wondering, Frodo.”

“What?”

“They’re so different from us, I don’t understand, how could you love a Big Person?”

Frodo sighed, picked up his empty plate and goblet, and rose to his feet. “I don’t know, Merry,” he said. “Yes, there are differences. But in some ways Faramir is more familiar to me than some of the hobbits I’ve known all my life. I, well, I don’t think of it as loving a Big Person. I love Faramir. Why don’t you go to bed? Sleep sounds awfully good.”

* * * * * * *

Boromir turned to watch Faramir return to the pavilion and speak to the hobbits. Merry and Pippin began settling down for the night, and Frodo and Faramir gathered their blankets and walked side by side to the back where one of the giant trees supported the roof of the pavilion.

Boromir stretched his legs out, resting against the stone behind him, and rubbed his eyes. He was tired, but did not wish to sleep yet. He was relieved by what Faramir had told him, also relieved that he didn’t have to talk to Merry and Pippin tonight. It was cowardly perhaps, but a night’s rest would make a difference, would give him some distance. He would sit here a while, try to eat, and then go to his bed. It was slightly humbling to think that his brother probably knew enough about him to have made sure he was given the reprieve.

“Boromir.”

Boromir recognized Aragorn’s voice, kept himself from showing his surprise. He’d not heard Aragorn approach. He turned his head to see Aragorn standing close.

“Aragorn.” Boromir wished he had not lingered. After everything that happened earlier, he did not want to speak to Aragorn alone.

“Will Faramir and Frodo be able to help you with Pippin?”

Boromir stared, silent. He did not know what to say. How could Aragorn know?

Aragorn smiled at him. “Merry presented his proposition to me yesterday, and after I told him no, he told me what he and Pippin had planned. And I saw Faramir and Frodo talking to the two of them.”

“Oh. Yes, I think so. It was a misunderstanding.”

Aragorn tilted his head. “Misunderstanding?”

Boromir considered rising and just walking away but could not bring himself to do so. “Sit down,” he said, “If we’re going to talk, I don’t want to have to keep looking up.”

Aragorn nodded, sat on the stone against which Boromir was leaning, and stretched his legs out in front of him.

Boromir shifted uneasily. He hadn’t thought Aragorn would sit so close. And he could not look him directly in the eye without turning his head. But he couldn’t think what to say to make Aragorn move that wouldn’t sound foolish.

Boromir turned to face Aragorn, crossing his arms and leaning sideways against the stone, drawing one of his legs up.

Aragorn’s face was half in shadow, half in light.

“Pippin did proposition me,” Boromir said. “And I said no.”

“Of course.”

Boromir felt himself turning red, was sure Aragorn’s response was that of amusement. “I had thought the hobbits younger than they are,” he continued, trying to keep his own voice neutral. “Certainly innocents, younglings I was teaching. As I tried to explain myself to them, I mentioned a law in Gondor against sex with children that upset them. The Shire is apparently very different from Gondor.”

“Yes. It is. I think I understand.”

Aragorn shifted in turn, leaning back a little, drawing one knee up to rest his elbow on.

“I don’t know if you know the Northern Dunedain have long guarded the Shire and other Northern lands that were once part of Arnor,” he said. “But we have. All of us serve some time in and near the Shire. Some of us come to know the hobbits well. I spent a decade there in my youth and learned something about their customs. Much that is commonplace in Gondor would shock them. No doubt much that is common in the Shire would surprise the people of Minas Tirith. And I know some of my kin have a hard time seeing them as anything but children perhaps because of their size and their openness. Would you like me to speak to Merry and Pippin?”

Boromir was half relieved at Aragorn’s understanding, half embarrassed at his relief. “No,” he said, “although I appreciate your offer. I think Faramir and Frodo have helped us all see the problem. And how to resolve it.”

“Good.”

Silence.

Boromir no longer felt tired. He was not sure what he felt. The journey he had insisted on taking upon himself had seemed so simple at the start. He had half expected never to find Imladris, or at worst to find it had been deserted long ago as was true of so many of the Northern places of power. At best, he had thought to return immediately to his city with a mighty weapon to aid in the battle against the Nameless Enemy.

He had not thought to spend months living with Elves and more time traveling with Halflings and a Wizard, an Elf and a Dwarf, almost all creatures of children’s stories in Gondor. Not thought to embark on a quest to destroy a legendary Ring from Gondor’s distant past. Everything was different than what he had planned or thought.

A warm hand settled on his head, and Boromir found himself relaxing, allowing the faint pressure to tilt his head back until he was looking directly into Aragorn’s eyes as he leaned over Boromir.

“Is something else wrong?” Aragorn asked softly.

“Not wrong, but…” Boromir hesitated, then forced himself to continue. “You have implied you know something of the customs of hobbits. What might you tell me of the customs of Elves?”

Boromir felt Aragorn’s hand drop away but did not move.

“That would take much more than just a night, and I know only a few pages of that story. Perhaps the single most important thing is that Elves are bound to Middle-earth and do not leave as Men do when we die. The Elves will not die until all the world dies, although they can be slain, or choose to die of a consuming grief. What happens then is beyond my knowledge although I have been told that Men are freed from this world after death while Elves may return again and again. Our fates thus differ.”

Aragorn paused. “Is that what you seek to know?” he asked.

“Perhaps,” Boromir said slowly, stunned at the implications. He had known Elves were powerful and long-lived but had never heard this lore. He thought of Legolas and what had at times seemed like coldness, detachment, from the rest of the Fellowship and now seemed something entirely different.

Boromir drew a breath, feeling as if he were walking along a high cliff where the air was thin, not knowing if he would fall to his death on rocks below or reach a height greater than he had dreamed of. “But I was thinking more of their…marriage and sexual customs.”

A pause, and Aragorn’s hand returned, running through his hair. Boromir closed his eyes, remaining still under the touch.

“For Elves, love can be many things. It can be an art, a creation with one other done over centuries. It can be a dance during which two briefly share pleasure and then leave to be with other partners. With ages of life, marriage is not sought by all or even most. Mortals bear more children than Immortals, or the Earth would be inhabited only by Elves. An oath of fidelity to one other can be sworn, but the choice is individual. Many choose to enjoy a more….complicated set of relationships. It might be simplest to think of such relationships as marriages between more than two individuals, marriages that involve larger groups. Fidelity and commitment can be sworn to others by more than two.”

Boromir tried to keep his breathing even, did not speak. Aragorn’s hand moved down to the back of his neck, rubbing softly.

“Such an….arrangement would be forbidden in Minas Tirith,” Boromir said.

“If it were known of, certainly,” Aragorn agreed pleasantly. “But among Elves, these matters are not ones of public law or contract. They are private, not spoken of abroad.”

“It would be difficult for many Men to accept.” Boromir said. “Those not raised by the Elves.”

“True. But difficult is not the same as impossible. And I am not interested in many men.”

Boromir shuddered, not knowing if he was feeling fear or longing or if they were the same.

He felt the movement next to him, was half prepared for the touch of Aragorn’s mouth, felt his neck gripped, his head held, and opened his lips to the thrust of Aragorn’s tongue.

Raising his hand to Aragorn’s shoulder, he gripped it, feeling his fingers tangle in his long hair, not sure whether he would pull Aragorn down or push him away.

He pushed, and Aragorn released him, drawing back slightly.

Boromir opened his eyes and swallowed. “I need…” He shook his head, pulled his hand back, feeling cold and bereft. There was so much he needed. “I need time,” he said.

Aragorn sat back, creating a free space for Boromir’s movement. “You have it,” he said. “I will wait for you to tell me what you wish.”

Boromir sat a few moments, fighting his longing to reach out, pull Aragorn down, and resolve his doubts and questions. He almost wished Aragorn would act although if he did, no doubt it would lead to a fight like last time.

Finally, Boromir forced himself to stand and walk away, unable to think of anything to say, unable to resist stopping at the pavilion to look back and see Aragorn still sitting in the silver glow of the lanterns