Caras Galadhon was indeed a very beautiful, very enchanting place. It was like living on a star, or what Boromir may have likened such an existance to. It seemed to have been placed here by the heavens, for how could any being of Middle-earth forge such an otherworldly city?
But Boromir had little thought to spare for it, for the deeper they came into this place, the more he could feel something in his heart that frightened him. The utter peace within these trees made him despair, for he would see his own people's hope so heightened. But what hope could the people of Gondor find? They counted on him, but in this place he saw his own flaws, saw his frailty. It lowered the Lord of Gondor nearly to tears and brought him to restless need of something he did not even know the image of.
He needed a distraction from this madness swirling around within, he decided, and almost naturally his eyes fell upon Haldir, who led the company from ahead to a place of rest. The Elf said nothing of the challenge between them, but Boromir saw the question still written in his eyes. The curiousity and amusement, the arrogance and understanding. Elves always seemed so perfect, so irritatingly flawless, but this Marchwarden was different. Blatantly an Elf, but not unlike him and in that Boromir took interest.
The Lady Galadriel had seen that, among other things within his mind when she spoke. During the greetings Haldir had taken a place to the side to await orders and there remained almost forgotten by Boromir until Galadriel's starry, all-knowing eyes fell upon his. He felt her searching through his most potent thoughts and for whatever reason, the human had turned his sight away from her and to Haldir, who watched in silence. Under that gaze he could not remain either, for he could feel himself displaying his weakness outwardly for the others to see. So Boromir had faced his fears and looked once more into the eyes of the so-called Elf-Witch. She had surely sensed something of his thoughts concerning the Marchwarden, for though she said nothing of it, her next search was directed at Haldir.
He could not imagine what living under the rule of a mind-reader would be like for so long and was glad he knew not of its like. Having so knowing a gaze on him once was enough. More than enough.
They were led to a small glade where beds had been crafted of the earth and trees, and there Haldir stopped with a soft expression. It seemed being so near the city had an effect on even his emotions. "Here you may leave your things without fear. Take rest, for your journey will be long. You may find food and other needs met if you follow that path," he said, pointing between two trees to the company's left, "and that is where you will find me for the hour to come." A glance was spared Boromir before he took a step.
"Thank you, Haldir," Aragorn offered with a bow of his head. And then the Marchwarden was gone. The Ranger turned and nodded his head in the same direction with a suggestive little smile at Boromir.
Narrowing his brow, the Son of Denethor peered at the others to see that his secret had not been told in such a gesture, but the Fellowship was too weary to take notice of anything but their belongings. The Dwarf already had unpacked his bedroll and was setting it up for use. Rest did sound seductive and banter tiring...
A little play would do him good. A lot of play would be better, of course, and after a few moments of following those thoughts through to conclusion, Boromir decided he was up to it after all. Besides, Haldir surely wanted his attention this night, if he were so wanton as to offer him even that subtle invitation.
Boromir gave Aragorn a stern look, hoping it warned against intrusion, and followed the footsteps of his prey through the trees. The path was not long, but far enough from the company of the Fellowship. He prided himself on silent feet and attempted stealth as he neared the next clearing, which was mercifully empty. There he saw earthen tables bearing fruit and a spring with a pitcher and dipping gourd. This was where Haldir sat, his fingers playing gently with the stream.
"You have much to learn of challenging Elves, Boromir of Gondor," he said into the silence, announcing he had heard the Gondorian's approach despite his skill. "I am beginning to think you wish to back down and accept defeat."
A smile wrote itself across the lips of the auburn-haired lord, who closed in enough to draw the Marchwarden to his feet. The game had begun and he felt some of his tension fade into reawakened desire. He reached for Haldir's hair and grinned when the Elf pulled away. "So wild," Boromir breathed, devouring the other with his eyes. "You are like a wild horse that dances on the edge of my want, so unwilling to be broken and yet unable to fight the need to be reigned and ridden."
Haldir's sultry lips spread into amusement as he crossed his arms before Boromir. "Is this how you see me, human?" He backed away at another attempt made for the golden glory flowing down his shoulder. "Leave my hair be."
Boromir closed in the space between them and instead made for the Marchwarden's cheek, which he allowed to be touched. "Deny you wish me to have you, Elf. Deny it and I will withdraw my challenge."
Those glinting eyes narrowed slightly at having to make such an admission, which would put the game in Boromir's favor. "Wanting and having are quite different matters, I assure you. You are interesting, in a beastly sort of way. But interest does not denote worth. What makes you worthy, Boromir? Will you promise me pleasure beyond any I have had before? Perhaps offer a life at your side, glory and other things? Will you whisper to me, telling me of my beauty and comparing me to the night sky? What shall you do to prove yourself, Boromir?"
Tracing the Elf's fair cheek with the back of his fingers, the Son of Gondor looked his conquest over with soft intent and took another step. "None of those things, Haldir. I will do none of them." The Elf raised his head, accepting this as the defeat of another foe, but Boromir had further plans. Taking the Marchwarden by surprise, he left his face and whipped his hand into the forbidden mane of this wild thing and yanked him forward. Haldir hissed at the sudden pain, but was given no leave to protest as lips were forced onto his own.
The Elf struggled as Boromir plundered his mouth, pawing his hair and finding other places to send needful hands. The kiss was hard and unrelenting, growing rougher with each blow Haldir delivered in trying to force the human away and when Boromir finally grew weary of having his body bruised, he found the Elf's wrists and forced him to the grass, pinning them above his head. Desire flooded through the Son of Denethor, filling his body with pleasureful tingling and need.
Haldir panted when his mouth was finally freed and gazed up through hazy eyes. "Wretched human," he spat, trying to lift his shoulders to no avail.
Boromir laughed lightly and grabbed a lock of the other's long tresses, bringing it to his mouth to kiss it and claim it. "Mine," he breathed, savoring the sweet scent. Those hazel eyes flitted down the body of his prey in lust. "All of it. All of you. I make no promise other than to swear you will be mine."
"You will make me yours?" Haldir seemed to plead, his chest heaving with deep, wanting breaths. Boromir closed his eyes, feeling a warm thigh part his legs to tempt him.
If anything with this Elf Boromir was not short on, it was mistakes. With the loss of vision and the weakness of need had come the opportunity Haldir had been looking for. The teasing rub of the leg on his groin turned into a shove, sending Boromir's pleasure into pain. The Marchwarden pushed the now groaning human off and dusted his clothing. "Your arrogance is what leads you to ruin, Boromir. Not only in this game between us, but in other things as well. You have lost the contest with me, but I have no desire to see you lose the one you face with yourself and that Ring."
Boromir relaxed against the ground, having all his despair of before thrown back into his face. Weary again, he looked up into the face of the Elf who watched in new seriousness. "Is the game now done?"
The Marchwarden looked away a moment, then back again. "I cannot let you win this battle, Boromir." A smile graced his features. "But you did come close." He offered a hand to help Boromir up.
Reluctantly it was taken and when the young Lord of Gondor was to his feet, he stalked by Haldir as if he were worth little interest. On a table nearby fruit beckoned with the promise of at least some form of pleasure. The Marchwarden exhaled and muttered something in Elvish, then joined him, facing the back of a chair towards Boromir and straddling it.
Taking an apple, Boromir leaned back and looked to the man seated beside him. "Why bother leading me on, then?" he asked, taking a bite and watching Haldir's eyes find his lips. The Elf noticed and quickly lifted his gaze. "Aragorn calls you a tease."
The Elf smiled wryly and reached now for Boromir's hair, letting his fingers slip through the golden-red strands. "I am not the sort Aragorn's heart seeks. He belongs with one like him, and I am not he. I tested him and he failed. If that deems me a tease, so be it."
"And you tested me," Boromir replied, wondering if the sport had truly met its best or not. He licked the juice from his lips softly and smiled inwardly at the glances given. "Did I fail, too?"
Haldir withdrew his hand and blinked with lengthy lashes that made the Son of Gondor inhale. He would have kissed those lashes into sleep, perhaps. "You could never have won."
Shaking his head and furrowing his brow, Boromir crossed his arms and looked this piece of work over. "Again I ask, why lead me on?"
A small wind sailed through the trees as the Marchwarden looked him over with a smile. "Because wanting and having are two different things." He reached out again and this time was caught by Boromir's own hand.
The human gripped Haldir's wrist tightly and said low, "And again, by your own words, I make this promise. You will be mine." He tossed the hand back to the now unamused Elf. "You make the admission by your own tongue and that tongue I will claim. Whatever you fear will melt away and you will forget yourself and give in. I swear it."
"We shall see," Haldir replied, standing now with a firm resolve in his blue eyes. He nodded his head once to bid Boromir farewell, but a presense in the glade halted both men in their thoughts.
With a grace so silent she may have been floating came Galadriel with soft, knowing eyes that made Boromir nervous once more.
Do not be troubled, her voice sounded in his head, so fair and so gentle. Her gaze pierced all his shields once more, then flitted to the Marchwarden, who bowed in the presense of his queen. "Haldir, I came to speak with you. I have need. Should I ask of you, will you serve me?"
Haldir nodded once and replied reverently, "With my life, Lady. You must know this."
The Lady of Light neared the Marchwarden and Boromir sat up, curious about what she would ask, but conscious this may not be for his ears. "If you will excuse me," he began politely, feeling the need to not win her vexation, but trailed off when she lifted a hand.
"Nay, Boromir of Gondor. Stay, for this concerns you." Her eyes never left the face of Haldir as she spoke. "I had to be sure, Haldir, for what I will ask of you will be perilous, but I and my husband have spoken and we both deem it wise."
Haldir shook his head and said, "You have only to tell me this errand and I will see to it, My Lady. My trust has ever been in your wisdom." This was true dedication from the lips of Haldir and for a brief moment Boromir entertained she may be the reason he would never win.
His heart is mine, she spoke into his mind, while still speaking to Haldir in appreciation of his service and skill. But not in the way that you think, Son of Man. "You have guarded Lorien well, Marchwarden and have the respect of your people." Boromir swallowed at the words coming from her mouth, forgetting his momentary thoughts of jealousy. Was she sending Haldir to his doom? I send him away in one way or another.
"My thanks," Haldir replied with a soft smile as he again bowed his head. "How shall I serve?"
At this, Galadriel let her eyes slide once again to the curious Gondorian still hovering on the edge of leaving his chair. "Mithrandir is gone," she began in her ageless voice, sorrow falling down her shoulders like the golden river of hair he could see. She turned her gaze back to the Marchwarden. "The Fellowship is in danger, but there is hope. Therefore I would send you, Haldir, to replace he who is missing. It is a dangerous task, but you are skilled and they have need. Will you serve?"
The male Elf swallowed and Boromir perhaps thought him afraid of this task, but a glance betrayed that was not what the trouble was. They shared eye contact that told him they were speaking within their thoughts and he watched the surprise calm down into an almost reluctant acceptance. Finally, Haldir replied, "I will."
The Lady of the Wood searched the eyes of her servant, then turned without another word spoken. As silently as she had come, so she left, offering one more glance at Boromir with a command he wasn't quite sure what to make of. He turned his eyes on Haldir as she disappeared into the trees. The Elf watched her go with a puzzled expression. "It seems I have been gifted more time to win our contest," he commented, grinning pleasantly at the annoyed expression Haldir gave him.
"This changes nothing, human! You have lost the battle," he shot with a glare, stalking away after his lady.
Boromir again bit into his apple and smiled contentedly, his cares again seeming lighter than before. He had lost the battle, but luck was with him in the coming war.
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