"Why did you choose to come by way of Ithilien to return to Minas Tirith?" Aragorn asked. "Would it not have been a quicker journey if we had taken the Old West Road from Edoras?"

"Aye," Boromir agreed. "Indeed it would have, but I have my reasons for coming this way, Aragorn." He paused, flashing a smile at his companion. "Besides, I thought you Rangers liked wandering the paths less travelled. Has your time at Edoras been so restful that you have grown loathe of riding a few extra paces?"

Aragorn returned the smile, accepting the jesting rebuke. "All right, perhaps being at Edoras has taken some of the edge off of my normally adventurous nature. But an overdose of idleness tends to do that." He paused, then added, "Not to mention an overdose of physical pleasures."

Boromir shot Aragorn a sidelong glance, his green eyes momentarily flaring with heat as he recalled the numerous passionate moments that he and Aragorn had shared during their rest in Rohan. He felt his loins stirring just thinking of them.....The touch of Aragorn's hands on his body, the rich, woodsy scent of him surrounding him, his mouth upon his.....All wonderously tender and gloriously arousing. He shook his head slightly and shifted uncomfortably in his saddle. It would not do to let such thoughts consume him now. There were still many miles to travel before they could rest. It would not do to spend most of the journey with a raging erection to contend with.

Aragorn smiled and turned his eyes back to the road before them, knowing full well that very shortly Boromir would likely request a halt and slip away to attend to "a call of nature". And though this call would have something to do with relieving oneself, it was not the sort of relief one would expect for such a stop to be made. And while Aragorn felt a twinge of longing when the Gondorian found it necessary to stroke himself to completion, he knew it was for the best. If Aragorn were to accompany him and attempt to relieve Boromir's discomfort himself, they would make no progress along the road at all. They just got much too caught up in each other, and both of them knew this. The Ranger knew that with Boromir's lusty warrior tendencies, his blood and passions were brought to a boil much quicker than Aragorn's more sedate, more patient nature. So if five minute stops along the way were needed from time to time for Boromir to tend to his needs, then it was fine with Aragorn. He loved Boromir, and would deny him nothing.

Sure enough, just as Aragorn was thinking these things, Boromir said hesitantly, "Ermm......Aragorn? Could we halt for just a moment? I am afraid it is necessary for me to attend to a call of nature...."

Smiling indulgently, Aragorn gently tugged on Brego's reins to bring him to a stop, then said gently, "Of course, melethron......Take your time. I shall wait for you here."

Boromir flushed slightly and slid out of his saddle, heading for a stand of trees that stood a few paces from the side of the road, thankful for the concealment of his long leather surcoat as he went to take care of business.
*******

Later that day, as the sun began to sink lower in the sky, Boromir and Aragorn were heading along the southeastern edge of the Emyn Arnen,when suddenly Aragorn tensed and reined Brego to a halt. The stallion snorted fitfully and pawed the earth restlessly, sensing his rider's tension.

"What is it?" Boromir asked, pulling his own horse to a standstill and scanning the terrain around them.

Aragorn's blue eyes were sharp and alert as he nodded toward a patch of forest off to their left a little ways ahead. "We are being watched," he murmured, his low, raspy voice sounding quite sure.

Boromir turned his head to look where the Ranger was looking, his hand automatically dropping to the hilt of his sword. Although he could see, hear, or sense nothing, he had complete trust in Aragorn's almost Elvishly attuned perception. "Orcs?" he asked, pitching his voice low.

Aragorn shook his head slowly. "I think not......Orcs would not hide in the shadows of the trees. They would attack us, being as there are only two of us. They could be men of Harad, which would make them a most formidable foe indeed."

Boromir's brow furrowed as he scanned the trees again, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of the yet unseen threat. "Curse them," he snarled. "Why do they not show themselves? Why this cowardly skulking in the shadows?"

Aragorn was just opening his mouth to reply, when suddenly he shut it again, his eyes now drifting to the side, then rolling slowly to look at Boromir. There was silence for a moment, then Aragorn whispered, "Boromir....They are...."

Then before either of them could move to draw weapons, they were surrounded by a ring of six archers, all pointing their arrows at them. "Do not move, or we release," boomed one. Aragorn, overcoming his surprise quickly, first noticed that these were indeed men.....but not from Harad.....nor from Umbar. In fact, as he focused further, he saw that these men were in fact.....

"Damrod!" Boromir suddenly cried, sounding quite a bit perturbed. "What is the meaning of this? Is this how you welcome my return?"

The leader of the band of archers, the one who had spoken, suddenly dropped his bow, slack-jawed with shock for a moment, then immediately, he motioned to the others to lower their weapons as he hastily dropped to one knee before Boromir's horse. "My Lord!" he stammered. "Forgive me. I knew not that you were travelling these roads."

"Nor did I know these roads to be guarded by my own countrymen," Boromir said, motioning for Damrod to rise. "By whose order are you here?"

"If you please, my Lord, your father bade us to guard the borders of Ithilien against possible evils invading Gondor." Damrod explained.

Aragorn watched this exchange with bright-eyed interest, staying silent throughout it and letting Boromir take charge of the situation. As he watched Boromir, fully in his element as Lord and Captain of Gondor, stern and commanding, he could not help but feel his love for the warrior swell and grow to monumental proportions. He suddenly had a mad urge to tumble Boromir from his horse and kiss him until both of them were out of breath. But he merely sat atop Brego, waiting for the scene to be played out, feeling his heartbeat thudding rhythmically as he gazed at his stunning blonde lover.

"My father ordered you out here?" Boromir asked. "Has there been a threat from Mordor or Harad against Minas Tirith that would warrant such a defence, Damrod?"

"Nay.....There has not as yet, my Lord," Damrod replied. "But the Lord Denethor thought it best if a garrison were stationed here, on the off-chance that ill should come from the east or south."

Boromir sighed, murmuring under his breath so that only Aragorn could hear him, "Ah, Father.....What a waste of good men that would be better served along the ramparts of the City." Then he turned his attention back to Damrod, looking around at the other men who were with him. "Do you command this garrison, Damrod?"

"Nay, my Lord.....I do not," Damrod admitted. "I simply lead this patrol."

"Who is your commander in this folly, Damrod?" Boromir asked directly, already feeling pity for the poor fool who was subjected to this mind-numbing task at his father's whim.

"Our commander is Lord Faramir, your brother, my Lord," Damrod answered.

Boromir's expression now changed from being stern to being filled with an odd combination of affection, sorrow, and annoyance. Aragorn's sharp eyes only needed to glimpse that expression, and that told him all he needed to know about how deeply Boromir's feelings for his younger brother ran, and it warmed his heart to see it, even though he knew that Boromir was sorely distressed that Faramir had been posted to this ignominous duty.

"My brother.....The highest soldier of Gondor in my absence.....Has been ordered to this post that any common soldier of the army could perform?" Boromir asked, his voice deceptively calm, though Aragorn knew that bitterness and anger was bubbling just below the surface.

"Aye, my Lord, 'tis true," Damrod said, his own voice shaded with regret at having to bestow this news upon Boromir, for he knew himself that Faramir was meant for much better things than this lowly job.

Boromir sat for a long moment, regarding Damrod with his glittering green eyes, then he lifted his head and looked down the road, saying, "Where is Faramir, Damrod? I believe I should go to him at once."

"He is at Osgiliath, my Lord," Damrod said. "Two of my men will escort you so you will not meet with any more delays on the road." He motioned to two of his archers, who immediately took position before the horses.

Now Boromir's expression softened as he reached down to lay a hand on Damrod's shoulder, saying in a low voice, "Fortune go with you, my friend. Upon my return to Minas Tirith, I shall see if we cannot find a more fitting use for one of your skills."

Damrod smiled and bowed his head respectfully, saying, "'Tis good to have you back, my Lord."

Then Boromir and Aragorn turned their horses back toward the road and were on their way.
*********

"It infuriates me......It absolutely infuriates me," Boromir snarled, his eyes practically throwing green sparks in his pent-up rage. "The insults that my father lays upon my brother.....as if he were nothing but a common peasant instead of his son, his blood, descendant of the line of Stewards, the same as I."

Aragorn sat quietly, only looking at his friend, not interrupting. He knew that Boromir needed this time to let out his feelings, and he would not presume to try and stop him.

"Faramir is so much more than that," Boromir said, his voice and eyes now sad. "Yes, he does spend too much time with books and tales and not enough time at the practical matters of life, but that is just his nature. He got that from our mother. He cannot help the way he is. I love him for being that way. But to our father, it is only another excuse for disdain and disregard." Boromir paused, shaking his head, then turning eyes to Aragorn that were filled with torment. "I try to intervene on my brother's behalf whenever I can. But what else can I do, Aragorn? I must obey my father.....for he is the ruling Steward. But I cannot bear the way he treats my dear brother."

Aragorn sighed, his own heart hurting at seeing Boromir so distressed. He sidled Brego closer to Boromir's horse, so that the two beasts were nearly flank-to-flank as they walked. Pitching his voice low so that their escorts could not hear, he whispered, "You are doing all you can, Boromir. Faramir knows this. He knows your position and your duty to Gondor. Just the fact that you love him and believe in him is enough for him, I am sure." Aragorn paused, then added in a smooth, heartfelt voice, "It is certainly enough for me, melda-nin."

Boromir looked at Aragorn with tenderness, then, glancing at the escort ahead of them to make sure they were not observed, he quickly leaned over to press a brief but warm kiss to the Ranger's mouth before sitting back again.

"So...." Aragorn said, changing the subject slightly. "How will you explain to Faramir about me?"

Boromir looked at Aragorn with almost comic surprise. In all the recent turmoil over his brother, and all this time thinking of Aragorn more as his friend and lover and companion than anything else, he had almost overlooked the fact that he was now bringing the future King of Gondor into his brother's presence.

Boromir let out a rather bemused chuckle as he replied, "I know not, Aragorn. To be quite honest, the thought had not crossed my mind until just now." He smiled at the Ranger as he added, "But fear not, my friend. If I know my brother, he will welcome you with much more open arms than did I."

"That is well," Aragorn said easily. Then, lowering his voice again, he said, "Though I would much prefer your open arms anytime, as you well know."

Boromir did not speak, but the warm glow in his eyes spoke volumes to Aragorn.
********

Soon they had ridden to the border of the ruined city of Osgiliath. The mere sight of the once proud battlements, the crumbling white stone walls, the rotting statuary made Aragorn feel sad. He knew how easily Minas Tirith could meet the same fate if Sauron were to prove victorious. And one glance at Boromir's set, brooding features told him that the same thought burned in Boromir's mind as well.

Ah, my beautiful Boromir, Aragorn thought with a sigh. How well I understand more and more why you attempted to steal the Ring. What desperation drove you to such an act. My poormelethron.....to bear such devotion and such responsibility. But soon, I will help you to bear that burden, my love. It need not be yours alone any longer.

As they rode to what was once the public square of the city, now a place where only weeds and moss came to congregate, the escorts now turned to them.

"If you please, my Lord," one of them said to Boromir, "If you and your guest would be so gracious as to wait here, we will find the Lord Faramir and summon him to your presence."

"Well, be quick about it," Boromir said gruffly. "My brother well knows how much I dislike being kept waiting." Looking a bit unnerved, the escorts quickly exited the square.

Aragorn knew that the wretched appearance of Osgiliath and Boromir's own personal demons are what prompted him to be so short with the escorts, and so did not comment on the warrior's brusque attitude. He knew Boromir's jackrabbit temper well enough, and did not wish to be on the receiving end of it if he could possibly help it. Silently, he dismounted Brego, patting the horse's nose affectionately as he watched Boromir from the corner of his eye as the Gondorian climbed off of his horse as well.

A few minutes later, they noticed that a lone figure stood in the shadows of a nearby alcove, merely looking at them. Nothing could be made out of the figure save for the faint gleam of the blonde hair that was caught in the thin shafts of sunlight, and the breeze lightly tugging at the cloak that was thrown back over the figure's shoulders. But despite this, Aragorn knew without any doubt that this must be......

"Faramir," Boromir breathed, and such a depth of love was expressed in that one word that Aragorn's eyes misted slightly. He saw his beloved's face suddenly transform from troubled brooding to an almost child-like delight. He strode eagerly toward the figure, the only sound in the ruined courtyard being the tramp of his heavy boots and the slight sound of the wind rustling through the tall grasses that grew amongst the rotting tumbled stonework.

Now the other man stepped from the shadows, and Aragorn beheld a man very much like Boromir in appearance, but with enough differences to not fool the eye. Faramir was more slender in build, less imposing in demeanor, and instead of the gleaming green of his brother's eyes, Faramir's were as deep and blue as the Sea.

His expression was one of bemused wonder as Boromir drew closer, although Aragorn could also detect an identical glow of love on the younger man's face to what he had seen on Boromir's.

Soon, Boromir stood before Faramir, and the two brothers merely looked at one another, studying each other carefully after their long months of seperation. Then, in a quiet voice, Faramir spoke.

"It appears you have just saved the skins of two quite fortunate escorts, brother. For I was about ready to have them flogged for scoundrels and liars when they told me you awaited me."

"'Tis no lie, my dearest one," Boromir said, his voice rough with emotion. "I am here. I have returned, just as I promised you."

Then the next instant, they embraced fiercely, Faramir clinging to his older brother like he could not quite accept his reality just yet. Aragorn was so touched by this scene that he felt tears fill his eyes. To see his most beloved Boromir so happy, and to have Faramir reunited with his brother again, made the Ranger's heart swell with joy.

"I.....I cannot believe you are here," Faramir murmured against the worn leather of his brother's shoulder. He pulled back and looked into his brother's eyes, saying, "When I heard the Horn of Gondor blowing a fortnight ago, I feared the worst. And when no news came of your coming, when none had any sight or word of you, I thought you had perished from this world."

Boromir tenderly stroked a hand through his brother's tousled blonde hair, saying, "You may put those fears to rest, my lovely Faramir. For I live.....and I have many tales to tell you, for many adventures have I been through since we parted....and many sore trials which I have prevailed over...." His face was shadowed briefly as he spoke these words, like a cloud passing over the sun. Then in the next instant, the cloud had passed and he smiled brightly at his brother, continuing, "But first, I have someone I'd like you to meet....Someone who I am sure you will be quite interested in."

Faramir looked with curiosity from his brother to the rather disheveled, decidedly scruffy-looking dark-haired man that Boromir now motioned to come toward them. Faramir took in the dirt-encrusted leather garments, the roughened, calloused hands, the steely-eyed expression, and found himself quite entranced with what he saw. He knew this man had to be one of the Dunedain, for he had seen their like before. But this one had a bearing, almost an aura, that hinted at something much greater below the ragged surface.

Once again,Faramir, you let your imagination run wild over your senses, he scolded himself. This is why Father is forever disapproving of you. You must start to think with your logical mind instead of being led by your intuitions and emotions.

These thoughts, however, were completely blown from his mind at his brother's next words, "My dearest Faramir......May I present Aragorn, Son of Arathorn.....Heir of Isildur, and the rightful King of Gondor."

Faramir's dark blue eyes widened as he stared at the stranger, then stared at his brother, then back again. He saw no deception in the stranger's eyes. No guile whatsoever, actually. This man looked like every word that fell from his lips would be nothing but the truth, or he would not utter a word at all. And Boromir.....

Faramir's brow creased a bit as he regarded his brother's expression. He looked at this dark-haired man not only as one would regard a liege-lord or superior.....but as one would regard someone dearer to him than life itself. Akin to......but not exactly like......the way that he looked at Faramir.....

But surely 'tis only shock deceiving your perceptions, Faramir, he said to himself. This revelation as to this man's identity, and what it would mean for Gondor, were suddenly fully at the forefront of Faramir's mind. Suddenly, he realized that he had just been standing here, like some sort of slack-jawed fool, while the future ruler of their country stood before them.

"Forgive me," Faramir stammered, immediately falling to one knee before the ragged stranger. "I mean no disrespect, my Lord Aragorn. But my brother's introduction of you has quite startled my senses temporarily. 'Tis not often that a long lost legend comes to life before my very eyes."

Aragorn smiled at the complete candor and gentle speech of this young man. Yes.....very different from Boromir in that regard. Faramir seemed quite ready and eager to please.....Not even seeming to question the authenticity of Aragorn's claim. Merely accepting him because his brother accepted him.

"Worthy Faramir," Aragorn said quietly, taking Faramir's hand and urging him to his feet. "To have both you and your brother both as my consolates, Gondor will be assured as the wonder of the ages."

Faramir bowed his head respectfully, although he looked almost ready to burst with pride at Aragorn's words. He turned bright eyes to his brother, then said, "Night will be falling soon, Boromir, and I am sure that both you and the Lord Aragorn are weary from your journey. I am afraid I cannot offer you much in the way of luxurious accomodations here in Osgiliath, but if you do not mind sharing a bed, I believe we have a perfect place for you."

Boromir and Aragorn smiled and shared a brief, secret glance before Boromir looped an arm around his brother's shoulders and said, "I do not think sharing a bed will be problematic for us in the slightest, dear Faramir. Please.....lead on."
********

"He has not changed at all in my absence," Boromir said softly, musingly, as he sat atop the hastily assembled bed, clad only in breeches. The bed itself was really nothing more than a straw mattress covered in furs and some rather worn blankets....but after such a long ride on horseback, it was as good as a featherbed and silk sheets.

Aragorn, also stripped to the waist, stood by the window of the chamber, looking out over the night darkened landscape. He glanced back over his shoulder at his lover when he heard him speak, but Boromir was not looking at him. He seemed to be lost in his thoughts, a small, affectionate smile playing at his lips as he spoke of his beloved brother.

"He is quite remarkable," Aragorn agreed in a quiet voice. Indeed, he found Boromir's younger sibling quite charming. He was so alike in appearance to Boromir, yet so different in all other aspects that it only made Boromir's own uniqueness stand out all the more. And Aragorn had found, in just the short amount of time that they had been in Faramir's presence, that he had fallen in love with Boromir all over again......rediscovering all the things about him that had drawn him in the first place, and all the things he had grown to cherish in the fiery soldier.

Slowly, he crossed the chamber, his feet feeling a bit cold on the stone floor. The chamber was fairly clean for being in the middle of a ruined city, and there was a heavy curtain over the arched doorway that seperated them from any of the comings and goings of the other Ithilien Rangers.

He sat on the bed beside Boromir, digging his chilled toes into the warm furs beneath them. He drew his knees up and and hooked his arms around them in an exact mimicry of the way Boromir was sitting. Boromir, still lost in his own thoughts, did not notice at first. Then Aragorn leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to Boromir's bare shoulder, and the warrior finally was awakened from his own daydreams and turned to blink slowly at his lover.

"That is better," Aragorn sighed. "Here we are, with this chamber all to ourselves, and I thought you were going to waste the opportunity."

With that, he hooked a hand around the back of Boromir's head and drew him into a warm, lingering kiss. Boromir responded immediately, sliding his hands over Aragorn's muscular shoulders and holding him close, tasting and being tasted as soft, eager sounds came from his throat.

They seperated, and Boromir licked his lips as he said with a touch of regret, "Aragorn......I do not think we can make love properly whilst here. These quarters are not the most private, nor is my brother nor those whom he commands as......accustomed to our sort of love." He looked pleadingly at Aragorn as he said, "Please do not misunderstand me, my Lovely. I wish to make it known to everyone that we are together, but I just do not believe that having them hear us together would be the proper way to let my dear brother know what is between us." He smiled apologetically, and Aragorn returned the smile with a gentleness and an expression of complete understanding.

"Of course, melethron. You need not explain yourself." Then Aragorn softly pushed his hands through Boromir's hair, watching the movements of his fingers as they cut thin paths through the shining golden tresses. "But I do not wish to forego sharing my body with you tonight, my beautiful Boromir. I want you badly, and there is a way we can have pleasure together without being too loud about it." He smiled a bit wickedly as he added, "Of course, I'm hardly ever the loud one anyway. We know which of us has the hard time keeping down his enthusiasm during moments of passion."

"Mmm.....Only because you are so very good at what you do, my King," Boromir said, his voice lowering in pitch as his desire and his curiosity were peaked by Aragorn's words.

Slowly, Aragorn unlaced Boromir's breeches, noting the way that Boromir's respiration increased markedly at just this simple gesture, and urged Boromir to slide them off. Aragorn then did the same with his own. Once they were both naked, Aragorn pulled Boromir close to him again for another kiss, this one deeper and hungrier, thoroughly exploring the depths of Boromir's mouth with his tongue as his hand sought out the swiftly hardening column of flesh between the warrior's tense thighs.

Boromir gasped as he felt Aragorn's fingers wrap around him, stroking him with a sure, practiced touch until the Gondorian's shaft was fully erect and throbbing with need. He whimpered and clawed clumsily at Aragorn's body, his desire making him rough. Despite his earlier words of caution, he was half tempted to throw the Ranger down onto his stomach and take him until both of them were so sated they could not move. But the logical part of his brain....although obscured by clouds of lust.....still whispered words of sensibility, and Boromir knew that such an encounter could not be.....At least not this night.

So, aching and needy and almost out of his mind with pent-up lust, he panted desperately in between scorching kisses, "Aragorn......my beloved one.....Please.....What is it you wish to do? I have to.......I can't.......Please....."

Aragorn slowly seperated his mouth from Boromir's, understanding well that his lover's rampant libido was now firmly in control again and demanding satisfaction. The Ranger was quite aroused now as well, and was more than happy to accomodate the very eager warrior.

He rose to his knees on the bed, his thighs slightly parted, lifting and encouraging Boromir to adopt the same position directly opposite him so they knelt bare inches apart from one another.

Then the Ranger pushed his hips against those of his lover so that their erections were pressed together, rigid flesh to rigid flesh. And even though his own shaft was pulsing and feverish with need, Aragorn could still feel the intense heat generated from Boromir's member as well.

Now Aragorn reached down to interlace the fingers of both of his hands with Boromir's fingers, bringing them forward to wrap around their combined erections, starting to stroke up and down with slow, deliberate motions.

"Gods....." Boromir sighed, his eyes fluttering closed as sensation overcame him. He began to pump his hips in time to their stroking hands, and Aragorn began to do the same, so that they moved in perfect concert with one another. Their interlocked fingers stroked and squeezed and fondled in tandem, their tongues danced sensuously over one anothers, their heated moans caught and muffled into each others' mouths, their bodies straining harder, their hips pressing hot, hard shafts tighter together, their hands sliding faster......Each of them acting as if the erection of the other was part of themselves, as if their bodies had melded and mingled and become one.

The dull moonlight filtering through the window shone on two taut, trembling, sweat-coated bodies. Two heads....one blonde, one dark.....that twisted and turned and pressed together as they each sought to dominate the other with fierce kisses. And their locked hands moved more and more frantically, their groins grinding together more urgently, their breathless groans of pleasure becoming harder and harder to silence. Until finally, still completely in tandem with one another, they both shuddered violently and came in unison, swallowing each others final sobbing moans as their mingled fluids coated their intertwined fingers, which still continued......by unspoken mutual consent......to slowly stroke and massage until they were both thoroughly drained. Only then did their movements cease.

For several moments, they stayed just as they were, their essence-covered hands still locked around their softening organs, their foreheads pressed together, breathing harshly and raggedly in the aftermath of their passion. Finally, they took up a nearby cloth and cleaned themselves off, never moving from their positions of kneeling before one another as they looked into each others' eyes.

"Maethor bain-nin.......erin imye melethide" Aragorn whispered, his eyes soft as he gently pushed a lock of Boromir's sweat-dampened hair out of his face.

Boromir smiled gently. "That is too much Elvish for this City-dweller to understand. Care to translate for me?"

Aragorn returned his smile, saying gently, "Translated into the Common Tongue, I have said, 'My beautiful warrior........How I love you.'"

Boromir's eyes shone with a peaceful inner light as he stroked his hands over Aragorn's slick back, murmuring, "Whether said in Elvish or the Common Speech, they sound like the fairest words imaginable when they are uttered by your throat, my Lovely." With that, he pressed a kiss to the hollow of the Ranger's throat, lapping delicately with his tongue, tasting the saltiness of the other man's sweat and his own unique, highly arousing flavor. Then he bestowed another kiss to Aragorn's lips and murmured against their softness, "I love you as well."

Aragorn lay down on the bed, pulling Boromir down with him and holding him in his arms as Boromir pulled the blankets up over the two of them. Then he relaxed in the Ranger's embrace, nuzzling his face into the softness of his dark hair, breathing in that familiar musky scent that he now always equated with feelings of being warm and safe and loved.

It did not take long before the only sound in the chamber was the sound of deep, contented slumber. And it surely would not surprise anyone who might have observed them to note that even their combined breathing was completely in tandem as well.
*****

The next morning, feeling more alert, refreshed, and hopeful than he had for many weeks, Boromir rose and donned his discarded clothing and went to the washbasin the corner to splash water over his face.

Aragorn had already risen long ago and had left him to his rest. Boromir was used to this by now. Due to his life as a Ranger, Aragorn was accustomed to awakening before dawn to start his day, regardless of how late or how exhausting their previous night's activities may have been. Boromir, on the other hand, tended to sleep as late as he could get away with, so he more often than not awoke alone in bed. He did not mind this, however, as long as his bed was full when he went to sleep.

Smiling a bit, his mind full of these recollections, he did not hear someone enter the chamber until he heard a voice speak, "Good morning to you, my brother. I see your time spent away has not changed your sleeping patterns any."

Boromir turned to look at Faramir, and his smile broadened. His younger brother was another notoriously early riser, usually up before the birds began to sing. "That is quite true, Faramir. Life on the road has not deprived me of much sleep, I must confess."

Faramir stepped closer to his brother, his soft blue eyes sharpening just a bit as he studied his brother's face intently for a few seconds, his gaze shifting to the bed for a split second, then glancing away just as quickly. Boromir's brow creased the tiniest bit. What had just happened? What was Faramir doing just then?

Before he could ask any questions, however, Faramir began to speak. "I was hoping the two of us could spend some time in talk this morning, Boromir. You mentioned that there was much you wished to tell me about your time away. Indeed, it seems that many matters of import took place in your travels." He paused for a moment, his eyes giving Boromir that odd, probing gaze again for a brief moment. Then his eyes cleared and filled once again with that familiar eagerness that Boromir remembered seeing in his brother's expression time and again since the time of their childhood. "So I wish to hear all about what befell you, and what news you bring from the wider world beyond our borders."

"As you wish," Boromir said, laying his hand on his brother's shoulder and looking at him tenderly. "You know very well I could never deny you anything, my dear Faramir. And I will certainly not deny you this. I require only a few moments to have something to eat, for I have not had a proper meal since we left Edoras."

"Edoras!" Faramir gasped. "You have been to the capital of Rohan? How fare our allies of old? Is all well in the land of the Horse-Lords?"

Boromir chuckled indulgently. "Mercy, Faramir. Food first, then I shall tell you all that your curious mind wishes to know. Have you seen to Aragorn's needs, by the way?"

That strange, fey look came over Faramir's face again for a second, and he arched an eyebrow at his older brother as he said with something like irony in his voice, "Yes, I believe the King's needs have been seen to quite satisfactorily, Boromir." Then he added, "I believe Mablung has taken him out with him to scout the borders."

"Ah, that should please him no end," Boromir sighed, and only realized how heavily affectionate his tone sounded when he saw Faramir's gaze lock on him again. Then Boromir quickly said, "So......Where do I find breakfast, brother dear?"

"Right this way," Faramir said, smiling again as he led his brother from the chamber.
*******

For the next three hours, the two brothers walked through the ruins of Osgiliath, as Boromir recounted everything that had taken place since he had left Minas Tirith. It had not been quite a year since he had been gone, but as he talked now, telling Faramir all about his adventures, it seemed like it had been a lifetime since he had last seen his home.

He talked of the Council of Elrond at Rivendell, where the meaning of Faramir's dream had been revealed and discussed. Faramir found this both startling and interesting, and asked several questions regarding what was said on this account.

Then came the story of the journey of the Fellowship, the nearly disastrous attempt at crossing the Mountains, the evil darkness of the Mines of Moria, and the fall of Gandalf at the hands of the Balrog. Faramir's eyes grew wide and he shivered when Boromir described the fiery demon that had confronted them in the mines. Then, when Boromir talked of their stay in Lothlorien, Faramir's expression turned to wonderment once again.

When Boromir came to the events at Amon Hen, he had a very hard time describing his actions there......But he would hide nothing from his brother. He never had before, and he would not start now. He told Faramir of his treachery, of allowing the Ring to corrupt his mind in such a way that he attempted to take it by force from its appointed bearer.

Faramir, ever supportive and completely unjudgemental, took his elder brother's hand and held it between both of his own as Boromir's voice grew shaky and broken as told of his shame and betrayal. But then, when he talked of how he had attempted to redeem himself in the battle with the Orcs, his voice strengthened again.

It was at this point that Faramir interrupted just once to say, "Yes....The timeline you describe indeed coincides with when I heard the Horn blowing. Now I understand."

Soon, Boromir got to their adventures in Rohan, including the Battle at Helm's Deep, and revealing that Gandalf had not truly perished after all (another revelation that had Faramir's eyes widening). Finally, he fell silent as Faramir quietly absorbed all of this news he had been told.

"So Rohan triumphed over Saruman and his Orcs," Faramir mused. He lifted his head and looked proudly at his brother as he said, "And Gondor shall triumph as well, now that they have their champion returned to them. And from the sound of your adventures, you have gained much in strength and knowledge along the way. I am greatly pleased by this, brother. You have learned what Father never really has.......That there is a wider world outside the gates of the White City."

"Aye.....'tis true," Boromir said, nodding. "And so much the better for Gondor, you are correct in that as well. Also, we have the added might of the true King of our land returning to us, and that can only be to our advantage as well."

Faramir again had that probing expression. Then he said carefully, "Boromir......You know I have never been one to meddle in your private affairs. Nor have you ever interfered with mine. What goes on behind closed doors has never been something we have particularly shared with one another, even if we do share everything else."

Feeling the first stirrings of unease deep in his stomach, Boromir nodded silently, urging Faramir to continue.

"There is something I must ask you, Boromir.....I must know......Oh dear Valar this is difficult...." Faramir stopped, laying his hand on his older brother's shoulder and looking at him beseechingly. "Boromir.....most beloved brother......Are you.....Are you engaging in erotic pleasures with the Lord Aragorn?"

Faramir looked to see such a combination of love and fear in his brother's eyes that he could have wept. He knew right then and there that his suspicions were correct. He had already been fairly certain of the nature of his brother's relationship with their future King when he had entered their chamber late last night after everyone else had gone to sleep, seeking to ask his brother a question. The sight of his cherished brother lying naked, wrapped in the arms of Aragorn, who was also unclad, and looking like the happiest, most contented man in all of Middle-Earth spoke volumes to Faramir.

Now Faramir was not as worldly and experienced as his brother in matters of love or pleasure, but he was not naive of the concepts either. And he knew that relations between men sometimes occured, though it was not a very well accepted activity in Gondor. But his love and respect for Boromir ran very deeply. And the look of pure blissful contentment on his brother's face as he slept in Aragorn's embrace made Faramir believe that anything that made Boromir look that way could not be a bad thing at all. In fact, it appeared that Aragorn was the savior of Gondor in more ways that one.

But for now, he kept his silence and waited for his brother to voice his admission. The silence spun out as Faramir watched Boromir closely. Watched the pained, restless expression in his green eyes, watched the light wind ruffle his hair, watched the subtle heaving of his chest as he sighed deeply. Finally, in a voice barely above a whisper, he said,

"Aye, I have been."

Faramir sat quietly, still not speaking, knowing from past experience that Boromir would now attempt to fill the silent void with words of his own.

"'Tis not merely a matter of physical gratification, Faramir," Boromir said, turning to face his younger brother fully as he grasped both of his hands. "I do not think it ever was just a matter of need. Right from the start, we had a connection.......almost a feeling of destiny. You know of what I speak?"

Faramir nodded slowly, his blue eyes softening more and more as he realized what a matter of importance this was to Boromir, and how he was pleading with Faramir to understand. Faramir found that he did understand, but if it made Boromir feel better to unburden himself to his younger sibling, then Faramir would of course listen to every last syllable that his beloved older brother had to offer.

Boromir lowered his gaze for a moment, a pained expression crossing his face as he said, "The damnable misery of it is that I am the elder brother, and therefore 'tis I that will be expected to produce an heir to continue the line of Stewards, even if the King be returned, that tradition must continue, as it did in the days of Elendir and Isildur."

Faramir's eyes widened slightly. Boromir was talking about producing heirs? Aye, indeed.....talking about it like it he was bearing a heavy burden rather than carrying on an honorable tradition. Did that mean that his brother never wished to marry? Faramir knew that his brother had never really been all that interested in courting women......being more fond of scouting and swordplay. But this was something rather unexpected. This could only mean that.......

The younger son of Denethor drew in breath in a sudden soft gasp that made Boromir's eyes flicker up to meet his again. And the depth of emotion that Faramir saw there.......Oh, it was almost too much to bear. Boromir had always been one of quick temper and quick decision.......But his heart was always guarded closely, and Faramir believed that up until now, he had been the only one whom Boromir felt safe in sharing his heart with.

Until now.

"Boromir......" Faramir prodded softly. And before he could say another word, Boromir replied.

"Yes, Faramir. I love him. And not only as our King and liege-lord." He paused, then smiled slightly as he touched his younger brother's cheek, saying, "I love him the way that I would choose to love you, dearest Faramir, if our ties of blood did not forbid it."

Now Faramir was truly stunned. Did Boromir just admit to what Faramir thought he admitted to? Yes, he loved Aragorn.......He got that part......But 'the way I would choose to love you if'.......???

Taking a quick glance around to ensure that they were quite alone, Boromir held his brother's chin gently in his hand as he leaned forward to press the lightest of kisses to his lips, giving Faramir ample opportunity to pull away if he so desired.

Faramir had no intention of pulling away. To have his older brother kiss him in this fashion had been one of his most persistant fantasies ever since he was a child. He loved women, yes......and unlike his brother, sought out the company of females quite often when his duties permitted. But in the back of his mind, he knew the first true love of his life was Boromir, and now, to have those soft, warm, familiar lips gently massaging his own was beyond anything he could have ever dreamed. No encounters with the most jaded tavern wenches in Gondor could compare to the eroticism of this moment.

Just as quickly, however, the moment had ended, and Boromir pulled back to search his brother's dazed blue eyes. Faramir could only look back, his lips still slightly parted from the kiss, feeling his heartbeat pounding in a quickened rhythm.

"I love you, my precious Faramir," Boromir whispered. "Although I choose to be with Aragorn, whom I love unto death, never for a moment believe that any of my love for you has been forsaken."

Now recovering his senses well enough to speak, Faramir slowly licked his lips, tasting the faint traces of Boromir on them, and said in a remarkably steady voice, "And I love you, Boromir. And whatever you and the Lord Aragorn choose to have between you, you do so with my blessing, for I can see what joy this union brings you."

Boromir smiled gently, then looked up at the sky, commenting, "The sun is high overhead. 'Tis nearly midday already. We have tarried overlong out here, I believe."

"Aye," Faramir agreed, rising. "What say you to going back to the encampment and finding something for our midday meal, brother mine?"

"Sounds like a perfect idea. Let us away," Boromir said. And with a final, affectionate smile shared between them, the two brothers headed back toward the main crumbling structures of the city.
*******

"So you say he accepts our love?" Aragorn said musingly as Boromir recounted that morning's conversation with Faramir to him.

"Completely," Boromir confirmed. "My brother is not experienced in the ways of the world, Aragorn, but he is wise and has remarkable vision for one so young and sheltered. He is not blind." As Aragorn turned to look at him, Boromir shrugged, adding, "He sees how happy you make me. How much love I bear for you. And that is enough for him. It matters not to him that we are both men, or that you are to be King. All he can see is that we are two beings that love each other unto death."

Aragorn's eyes gleamed softly as he stretched out an arm in invitation. "Come here, my beautiful Boromir."

Immediately, Boromir joined him on the bench by the window, and was enfolded in a warm, affectionate hug. He slipped his arms around the Ranger's lean body and returned the gesture, laying his head upon Aragorn's shoulder with a contented sigh.

"You have no idea how happy I am that things have come to pass in this way," Aragorn said softly, stroking the Gondorian's silky blonde hair as he spoke. "For I feared that your family would not accept your choices, and that we would have to continue to conduct our affairs in secrecy. Trysting in darkened rooms, conducting clandestine meetings. To hear that Faramir has given his approval of us so quickly and so wholeheartedly......It is more than I ever could have dreamed of, melda-nin."

Boromir gave a soft chuckle, turned his head slightly to lay a gentle kiss to the side of the Ranger's neck, and the warm breath against his skin as Boromir spoke again sent ripples of delight down Aragorn's body that coallesced between his legs, making his organ shift and harden.

"My dear brother is at heart a hopeless romantic, Aragorn. He firmly believes in the concept of love overcoming all obstacles."

Now Aragorn pulled back to look into his lover's sparkling eyes, his own blue eyes filled with emotion as he whispered, "As do I, melethron. As do I." With that, he leaned forward to capture Boromir's lips in a blistering kiss, completely sweeping away whatever thoughts Boromir may have had in his mind.

Dear ancestors, Boromir did not think he would ever tire of Aragorn's kisses. He felt galvanized, energized, warmed through to the core. His manhood was now suddenly, painfully aroused, pushing insistantly at the lacings of his breeches, demanding attention. He whimpered into Aragorn's mouth, his fingers trembling as he clumsily tried to unlace the shirt that Aragorn wore, wanting to feel the Ranger's bare skin beneath his hands.

Just then, Aragorn pulled his mouth away with reluctance, his eyes bright with his own excitement and arousal. "No, Boromir.....Not here. I know a place. I found it today during my scouting trip with Mablung." He laid a hand against Boromir's face, and the warrior could feel a slight tremor in his fingers. "I wish to make love to you, my beloved Boromir. I wish to enter your body. I cannot wait for this any longer. Let us go now."

"Aye...." Boromir agreed, his own body vibrating with pent-up energy. "Right now. Please."

Quickly and quietly, the two of them slipped out of the ruined city and made their way eastward, where the woods of Ithilien surrounded them. Taking Boromir's hand as they entered the wood, Aragorn led them to a mossy glade that he had discovered whilst exploring this morning. Mablung......completely unaware of what possibilities Aragorn saw in this secluded spot......innocently conveyed the information that this area was rarely patrolled by the Rangers.....if ever.....for Orcs did not like woodlands and avoided them at all costs if there was an easier way around. So the woods were pretty much left alone.

And as Aragorn pulled Boromir down to the forest floor and began to pull his clothing apart with an almost frantic urgency, Aragorn felt completely confident that the only witnesses they would have to this moment would be the birds and the squirrels.

Almost panting with lust at this unexpected and rare show of aggression from Aragorn, Boromir looked up at his lover with cloudy green eyes, allowing the Ranger's busily working hands to divest him of all his garments, so that soon, he lay naked on the mossy ground, watching hungrily as Aragorn just as quickly stripped himself down to nothing as well.

Without hesitation, Aragorn leaned over the warrior's prone body, catching him up in another hungry kiss. The kiss was just the way Boromir loved it......rough, bruising, and passionate. The perfect way to peak his arousal and make his body demand to be taken. He could feel the hard proof of Aragorn's desire poking against his thigh, and he shifted his hips just enough to be able to rub his own burgeoning erection against his lover's.

Aragorn broke the kiss and hissed appreciatively, his dark hair hanging in dishevelled tangles and tendrils around his face, his eyes growing dark and stormy and......wild, actually. Boromir could not recall the last time he had seen Aragorn this completely swept away by lust and passion. Usually he preferred to take things slowly.....with lots of caressing and kissing and loving gestures and words. But the man he stared up at now, the man that was almost trembling with need, seemed a completely different Aragorn.

This was confirmed as the Ranger lowered his head and laved his tongue over Boromir's throat, then licked up the center of his chest before turning his attention to the warrior's nipples, worrying them with his lips and teeth until they were firm and hard and Boromir was whimpering with delight and arching his back at the contact. Aragorn did not linger, however. Like a man on a mission, he continued his descent on Boromir's body, kissing a trail down the warrior's flat stomach and abdomen before turning his attention to the object of his desire, which was hot and pulsing between Boromir's quivering thighs.

By this time, Boromir was so over-sensitized that he gasped raggedly and moaned at the first touch of Aragorn's hand. The Ranger wrapped his slender fingers around the base of the shaft. He did not use his mouth right away, but only rubbed his lips and chin and cheeks against the hard, silky flesh.

The softness of Aragorn's lips contrasting with the coarseness of his stubble causing not-unpleasant sensations to erupt within Boromir's loins, causing him to gasp again. Boromir had time to glance down to see almost devilish blue eyes staring back up at him, and then all thought was forced from his brain as Aragorn took him fully within his mouth.

And Aragorn did not pause or falter after that. He devoured Boromir like a man possessed; squeezing with his throat muscles, licking the sides with his tongue, hollowing his cheeks as he sucked ravenously.

Great merciful Valar, Boromir thought incoherently, pumping his hips frantically upwards to feel more of that wet heat, that slick friction. Uncurbed groans of passion were forced from his lips as his climax drew near. His fingers tore grooves into the mossy earth below him as he writhed and twisted and arched, his entire body trembling with need. Until finally, with a sharp cry, he was filling Aragorn's mouth with his hot seed, jerking and quivering and moaning as the Ranger used his considerable oral talents to drain him of every drop.

Aragorn did not pause to give his lover time to recover, however, his own passions.....which had been running high to begin with.....were now increased tenfold by the sight of his glorious Boromir coming so completely undone before his very eyes. Carefully slicking up his rock hard erection he climbed up over his lover's body. Boromir stared up at him, his green eyes slightly glazed, his chest heaving as he still fought to recover from the aftereffects of his orgasm. His fingers clutched at Aragorn's body in an almost spasmodic way, however, as the head of Aragorn's shaft began poking insistantly at his opening.

Gritting his teeth and emitting only one small whimper, Boromir withstood the pain of Aragorn's entrance. This was the first time Aragorn had breached him so without preparing and loosening him prior to, but Boromir found that he rather liked being invaded in this way. It only increased his own desire further to know that Aragorn needed so much to be sheathed within him that he could not wait to prepare him first.

And now that the Ranger had succeeded in getting inside of Boromir, he let his own need truly show as he began to thrust in and out of the tight passage with long, firm strokes that had both men gasping and moaning in unison.

"Aragorn.....Gods.....The feel of you is incredible," Boromir panted, arching his body to take as much of his lover's erection into himself as possible.

"Mmm.....Melda-nin...." Aragorn murmured, pushing harder and faster into the warrior's body as his excitement increased. "Gods, how I love the sight of you. The taste of you. The feel of you. You mean so very much to me, my dearest, dearest Boromir."

Then words were lost as the thrusts became more frantic, the breaths shorter, the groans louder. Despite Boromir's efforts to stay quiet, Aragorn's prowess proved to be too much as he shifted to allow his shaft to rub against that most sensitive of spots deep inside Boromir.

This caused the Gondorian to go almost mad with pleasure, and he began to cry out in ecstasy, his hands sliding down to clutch at Aragorn's buttocks, pulling the Ranger even deeper into him. Aragorn sealed his mouth over Boromir's to stifle his lover's enthusiastic responses. Although in his heart of hearts, Aragorn wished he could just let Boromir be free to voice his passion, for the Ranger did so love to hear it; to know how much he was pleasing his hot-blooded warrior. For Boromir's responses fed his own as well, and made the act all that more pleasurable for Aragorn in turn.

"That's it, melethron," Aragorn murmured against Boromir's lips, as Boromir whimpered and writhed beneath him. The Ranger's bright blue eyes watched as the Gondorian became almost completely undone below him. Aragorn could feel Boromir's shaft pressed into his lower belly, hot and hard again even after he had already had a spectacular orgasm not long ago.

"Oh Aragorn......dear Valar." The words escaped Boromir in a deep, gutteral groan that almost made Aragorn lose his grip on his own self-control. The Ranger dipped his head to run his lips over the burning skin of Boromir's throat as the warrior tipped his head back, his eyes closed, his teeth gnawing restlessly at his full bottom lip in an attempt to hold back the loudest of his cries. Finally, however, the effort became too much as his second climax approached, and his panting moans took on a harsh, desperate note as he writhed and undulated underneath Aragorn's hard thrusts like a cat in heat.

"Oh gods.....I'm going to.....Oh, yes.......Just a little.....Yes!......Oh that's it.....that's it.....oh gods.....Aragorn!" Boromir uttered his lover's name in a hoarse shout as he stiffened all over, and Aragorn felt his belly covered in warmth and wetness as the Gondorian's shaft pulsed between them.

"Sweet merciful Valar," Aragorn whispered breathlessly, watching Boromir in the throes of his release. The gorgeous sight never failed to undo the Ranger, and this time was no exception. Clenching his teeth against a cry that threatened to burst from his own lips, Aragorn thrust his aching shaft in to the hilt and exploded within the tight velvety heat of the warrior's body. Still, the Ranger could not prevent a trembling, growling moan from escaping him as the intensely pleasurable sensations wracked his lean form.

He moved off of Boromir and lay beside him on the forest floor, panting harshly, shuddering with reaction. Immediately, Boromir rolled on his side and gathered up the Ranger into his arms, capturing Aragorn's lips in a tender kiss. Aragorn smiled into Boromir's eyes as their kiss broke, and the two of them lay cuddled together on the ground for a time, merely looking at each other, reading the depths of each others' souls, it would seem. Evidently Aragorn liked what he saw in Boromir's soul, for his smile suddenly broadened and he pressed an impulsive kiss to the warrior's lips again.

"Ah, melda-nin.....What a precious treasure you are," Aragorn said, sitting up.

Boromir smiled gently at the praise as he sat upright as well, his green eyes soft and shining. "A treasure is measured by its worth, Aragorn. And you make me feel like the most worthy man in Middle Earth. That you would choose me.....among all the beings in this world.....to give your love to."

Aragorn leaned forward to kiss Boromir's shoulder, then began to busy himself with disentangling the dead leaves and small twigs that had become caught in Boromir's hair during their coupling. "There is no one I can imagine that would give me greater joy or greater pleasure than you, my beautiful Boromir. We share so much more than our bodies.....We share a destiny, you and I. We are soulmates, melethron."

Boromir turned as much as he could and locked eyes with Aragorn once more before letting Aragorn concentrate on his task. And so, as the sun moved across the sky, the Ranger and the warrior sat naked in the forest clearing, as Aragorn patiently, and with the utmost care, unwound silky blonde strands of hair from around each bit of forest litter, while Boromir told him in a tone of gruff amusement that he need not be so careful, that he could just pull the leaves out and it would not bother him.

And unbeknownst to either of the lovers, a third party observed them from behind a distant tree, his face slightly flushed and his dark blue eyes bright. He was caught between being ashamed of himself for watching such an intimate moment, and being powerfully aroused by what he had seen.

When he had noticed Aragorn and Boromir sneaking from the city in haste, looking quite happy and quite excited, Faramir suddenly had an undeniable urge to follow them and see what they were up to. What he had seen had suddenly changed his entire outlook on what he had thought of before as a rather deviant practice. Men were not meant to love other men in that way, he had always thought. But after his talk with Boromir this morning, that view had changed. And after what he had just witnessed, he definitely had a whole new opinion on the subject.

For now that Faramir had seen how it was between Aragorn and Boromir, his mind was already working as to how he might be able to share in such bliss with his beloved brother, and with his fascinating companion.

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