Posted: September 2003
Title: Elvish Whispers
Series; A Question of Leadership
Sequel to: A Question of Leadership
Author: Foofy
Type: FCS
Rating: R (ish)
Characters: Aragorn/Boromir
Summary: Legolas forces Aragorn and Boromir to face their relationship, puzzling Merry and Pippin in the process.

*****

Aragorn was concerned about Gimli. This in itself was rather unusual; the dwarf had always been one of the few members of the Fellowship that Aragorn regarded to be reasonably self-reliant. There were no complaints from him during difficult watches, and he was always the first to offer to collect firewood whenever the Fellowship paused for a rest. Food was devoured without comment whether it was too small, too large or just "uninteresting", and as far as Aragorn had noticed, Gimli had always attempted to be approachable for the remainder of the team.

However, since that morning, the dwarf had returned to his irritable and sullen state that had been common in Rivendell The hobbits had all attempted to hide away from him, but it was obviously it was not they who was truly annoying Gimli; whenever a daggered glare was given, it was always in Boromir's direction.

The Man seemed not to be phased by this, although Aragorn noted that he was never too close to the obviously infuriated dwarf. Every so often, Boromir would glance in Gimli's direction, but was careful to avoid eye contact.

Aragorn increased his pace to walk beside Gandalf, who had recently taken up the position at the front. The wizard glanced at him in surprise.

"Are you not supposed to be lurking in the rear, Aragorn?" he commented. " After all, lurking is what Rangers do best,"

"There's something not quite right with Gimli," muttered Aragorn.

Gandalf raised an eyebrow. " That's rather uncharitable of you, I must say,"

"He's upset about something,"

"Really? What does he say about it?"

"Not a lot. I can barely get a grunt out of him." Aragorn carefully stepped over some tree roots in the pathway, " But its always an angry grunt. And he keeps glaring at Boromir,"

"Really. And what does Boromir say to this?" inquired Gandalf.

Aragorn hesitated. Gandalf glanced at him.

"You have asked him, I assume?"

Aragorn looked away. " Never really been a good moment," he replied.

The wizard looked thoughtful. " Hmmm,"

They walked along in silence for five more paces. Finally Aragorn relented.

"What is hmmmm supposed to imply?" he asked hastily.

"Was it supposed to imply anything? If I didn't know better," Gandalf looked at the frustrated Ranger, " I'd say you were sensitive towards the topic of Boromir,"

Aragorn snorted. " Rubbish,"

Gandalf smiled. " I thought so. So you can go and talk to Boromir. We shall be resting shortly anyway. I suggest you both lurk in the back,"

Sullenly, Aragorn dropped his pace to allow the others to overtake him. The hobbits looked at him worriedly, before scampering up the path to follow Gandalf. Legolas passed him with a smile on his lips, followed by the towering rage that was Gimli. Wordlessly, Aragorn paused to allow Boromir to catch up with him before continuing.

Boromir glanced at him.

"What?" he said accusingly.

"What do you mean, what? Would it be too much to assume-"

"Yes." Boromir glared at him. " You've been avoiding me for some time now. You're after something. What is it?"

Aragorn continued for a few paces in silence. " I have not been avoiding you," he replied finally.

Boromir gave a snort of laughter. " Fine. We'll have it your way." He slashed at a low hanging branch that was in his way.

Aragorn decided to try a different tack. " Do you know what is the matter with Gimli?" he tried.

"His personality." offered Boromir.

Aragorn glared at him. Boromir looked back at him defiantly.

"What would you like me to say? He's been giving me some filthy looks all day, and no, I have no idea why." he said angrily. " Give me some credit, please."

Aragorn looked to the front of the Fellowship where Gandalf had obviously chosen their resting place. The hobbits were scuttling round, trying to make themselves comfortable.

"Fine." he said, and picked up his pace to walk ahead of the warrior. Boromir merely scowled after him.

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The battle practice was going well. Merry and Pippin had encouraged Boromir to give them sword lessons on a regular basis, and Boromir had not had the heart to refuse them. Having stripped to a thin top to avoid getting overheated, Boromir found himself actually enjoying the game as the hobbits desperately tried to get the better of him. Pippin easily dodged a slow sword swing towards his hip and gave a wild thrust at Boromir, who equally easily avoided it. Merry gave a suitable battle cry and swung at Boromir, who parried the blow away.

"Good, but keep your head down." commented Boromir, keeping a wary eye on Pippin who was attempting to flank him. Merry nodded happily, and jumped aside as his cousin attempted to pierce Boromir's defenses in a hobbit charge.

The remainder of the Fellowship were relaxing; Gimli, who still hadn't forgiven Boromir, was lurking on watch, having had no desire to wander into the forest like Aragorn, Gandalf and Frodo. Legolas had disappeared for a brief period, and had now returned to sit idly on a nearby rock, watching the battle. Every time Boromir caught the elf's eyes, Legolas would smile knowingly at him. This distracted Boromir to the extent that Merry managed to connect a blow to Boromir's left knee.

Boromir yelped in pain and surprise. Legolas' smile grew wider, if that were possible. Boromir attempted to ignore him.

"Er, sorry!" called Merry.

Boromir nodded at Merry, and rubbed the aching knee with a hand.

"Good attack," he said. " Expect anything. That's the key to this business,"

He was about to continue when out of the corner of his eye he suddenly noticed a small shouting missile coming directly at him from the forest. It appeared to be brandishing a large frying pan in one hand, and screaming something intelligible whilst running.

Sam hurled himself at Boromir, fury etched upon his small face. Boromir, too surprised to react quickly enough, lost his balance and crashed to the floor with the infuriated Hobbit landing on him. However, Sam was not immobile for long; using his fists, pan and knees he attacked the warrior underneath him. Boromir attempted to stop the onslaught but Sam was too determined, and his blows were seriously connecting to the un-armoured body.

"Well," remarked Pippin to Merry, who was standing openmouthed." I didn't expect that."

They attempted to grab the fighting whirlwind, but only managed to inadvertently get punched themselves. Merry finally managed to get a purchase on Sam's arm, and both he and Pippin pulled the hobbit off. Boromir heaved himself into a sitting position, gingerly touching a split lip and watching Sam warily.

Merry and Pippin struggled to keep Sam in check, having disarmed him from the frying pan. Boromir struggled to get to his feet just as Aragorn crashed through the foliage, sword in hand.

"What the hell?" he yelled, scanning the clearing for enemies. He focused upon Sam, still struggling in the hands of the two hobbits, then slowly turned his eyes to where Boromir was leaning. He took in the scratches and obvious bite marks on Boromir's arms, then slowly drew his gaze upwards to look furiously into Boromir's eyes.

"Boromir," he said through gritted teeth. " A word,"

Boromir glared at him, and was about to speak when Aragorn seized his arm painfully and yanked him to movement. As the warrior stumbled towards the outskirts of the clearing, Aragorn put a hand on Boromir's shoulder and shoved him harder to keep him moving. He stared back at Merry and Pippin, who were gazing at him with worried expressions.

"Calm him down and keep him safe," he ordered, nodding at Sam. Aragorn's gaze took in the figure of Legolas, still sitting on the rock quietly. Aragorn glared at him, and turned to follow Boromir.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

With Boromir gone from his sight, Sam suddenly seemed to lose steam and collapsed in a flood of tears. Merry and Pippin exchanged panicked looks over Sam's head.

"Perhaps we should get Frodo?" suggested Merry. " Frodo would know what to do,"

"No!" screamed Sam. " No, you can't! Promise me you won't!"

Pippin crouched down by the weeping hobbit. " We won't get Frodo if you don't want us to," he said carefully, patting Sam's back with his arm. " Will we Merry?"

"Er. No." said Merry, then hissed over his head. " Then what are we gonna do?!"

Pippin ignored this. " Can you tell me what happened?" he asked smoothly. Sam went down with a fresh batch of weeping. " Or not." continued Pippin hurriedly.

"Filthy ideas..." sobbed Sam. " Lies, all lies! .... Mr Frodo would never...," Sam gave a wail. Merry and Pippin exchanged glances again.

"Frodo would never what?" asked Merry.

Sam sobbed harder.

"Of course Frodo wouldn't do .. er... whatever it is that he hasn't done." said Pippin with all the cheerfulness he could muster. " Whoever said .. er... whatever it is... is obviously wrong."

Sam muttered something that they could just make out to be a string of curses and Boromir's name.

"Boromir said this?" said Merry in a bewildered voice. " But he wouldn't!"

Pippin nodded his head over to the direction that Boromir and Aragorn had taken. " I'm gonna find out what's going on. " he said.

Merry looked dubious. " Aragorn looked pretty pissed off," he warned.

Pippin shrugged, grinned, and started to walk. He glanced to where Legolas had been sitting a few minutes ago.

"Hey, where's Legolas?" he called. Merry glanced over his shoulder.

"He might have gone to see where Gandalf is," he suggested. Pippin shrugged, and sneaked around to where he had seen the warriors disappear. He gave one last look at Merry before disappearing into the undergrowth.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

It wasn't difficult to locate where they were. Broken branches and heavy footprints lead the way, and even if these were not there
Pippin could hear the argument from where he stood. Hurriedly, he picked up his pace, and ducked behind a tree as he finally saw them. He winced as he heard a punch hit.

Boromir fell to the ground, nursing his injured jaw where Aragorn had just punched him as he had turned round to speak to him. Aragorn angrily stood over him, rubbing his fist.

"Let me guess," his voice was full of sarcasm. " You have no idea why Sam would attack you,"

Boromir stared up at the Ranger. " No, I don't" he said. Aragorn gave a short laugh that had no humour in it whatsoever.

"Get up," he ordered.

Boromir dropped his hand from his jaw. " There doesn't seem to be any point at the moment, does there?" he said bitterly. Aragorn dropped to crouch beside Boromir.

"I warned you," he hissed. " I warned you against such a course of action,"

"Course of action?" replied Boromir, bewildered. " I have no idea what you're talking about!"

Aragorn attempted to strike the warrior again, but Boromir managed to seize the hand before it struck. His expression had changed from bewildered to anger.

"And I would warn you, Aragorn, against striking me again," he growled. " It would not be the most prudent of actions,"

"And you care about prudent courses of actions do you?" snapped Aragorn bitterly. " What you are doing would destroy us all!"

Boromir moved as if to sit up, but Aragorn angrily shoved his hand into Boromir's shoulder, holding it down. Boromir hissed in pain as the blow connected with one already sustained, and looked up at the angry face directly above him. His eyes narrowed in anger.

"Get off me," he snarled, and tore Aragorn's hand away from his shoulder. Rolling deftly to his side, Boromir shakily managed to get to his feet. Aragorn smoothly stood from his crouch, and stepped towards the warrior.

"Did you think that I wouldn't notice?" asked Aragorn, still walking slowly towards Boromir. Boromir watched his approach, but stood his ground.

"I have not done anything," he repeated. Aragorn laughed bitterly.

"Is this a test then? Or perhaps, " he came closer. " It is a cry for more attention after the last night we spent together,"

Boromir stared at him. " I have done nothing wrong! And I would certainly not act upon those reasons!" he snapped angrily. Aragorn reached the warrior, and paused less than a pace away from him. Boromir watched him cautiously, his sword arm reaching down to grip the hilt of his sword. Aragorn noticed the movement.

"You expect me to attack you seriously? You are worthless Boromir." Aragorn watched his opponents _expression. Was that a flicker of emotion crossing his face? Aragorn reached his hand to run a finger down Boromir's cheek, in a move that was reminiscent of the night they had spent together. " I would not undermine myself in such a fashion."

Boromir was silent, his eyes firmly fixed on the ranger. Aragorn smiled grimly, and ran his hand over Boromir's chest lightly, as if judging his strength. Then, in an act of dismissal, he turned from the warrior and walked briskly away.

"Leave," he said loudly over his shoulder. Even without looking back, Aragorn could feel Boromir's eyes on his back. " Leave now, and you should be back at Rivendell soon. Or indeed," he glanced mockingly back at Boromir, who stood frozen to the spot. " go and protect us all with the powers of Gondor. Your horn is of no use here."

Boromir opened his mouth to speak, but Pippin got there before him. Barreling out from his cover, the little hobbit rushed to stand by Boromir's side.

"You can't do that!" he squeaked. " We need him!"

Pippin cowered as Aragorn's furious gaze fell upon him. " You were supposed to be calming Sam," he demanded.

"He's calm! He's calm!"

Aragorn hesitated. " What have you heard?"

"Nothing!" Pippin looked guilty. Aragorn stared at him, then back at Boromir.

"At least you have not turned all the fellowship against you," he remarked dryly.

"He's done nothing wrong!" said Pippin hotly, and quickly took a couple of steps back as Aragorn's steely gaze fell upon him again. Aragorn smiled.

"Really?" he said. " I wish I could be as sure of that as you appear to be,"

"Its something else! Or Sam's misheard or got the wrong end of the stick or something!" said Pippin desperately. Aragorn gave a snort of laughter.

"Who else could possibly wish for Boromir and I to...," Aragorn
trailed off, and stared over his shoulder towards the camp. He stared back at Pippin with such hostility that Pippin took a small step behind Boromir's protective body. However, the hostility was obviously not directed at him.

"Where is Legolas?" he inquired coldly.

"Legolas?" asked Pippin in surprise. " He was with us during the fighting, but he's vanished since then."

"Hmmmm." Aragorn spun on his heel, and marched away to camp.

Pippin looked desperately after him. " Er, so we'll wait here, yes?" he called, as Boromir slumped to the floor beside him. Hesitantly, Pippin gave a comforting pat to Boromir's shoulder as the warrior stared across the clearing at nothing in particular. With the absence of any dismissive movement from Boromir, Pippin settled himself beside him.

Merry scuttled across the clearing towards them.

"Well?" he hissed, with a sidelong look at Boromir. " What's happened? What's happening?" Pippin roused himself to his feet again.

"We'll be back in a minute!" he said brightly to an unresponsive Boromir. They quickly scuttled a few paces away from Boromir, who again didn't seem to be taking any notice of their actions.

Merry looked back at Boromir. " What's wrong with him?"

"Strider's accused him of spreading rumours or something!"

"What? Why?!"

"AND they've been sleeping together!"

Merry stared at him. " You're joking!"

"I'm not!"

"But that's ... that's ...," Merry attempted to find a suitable word to describe it, but only ewwww came to mind. " I didn't think he was like that!"

"Which one?!"

"Either!"

Merry looked back at Boromir again. " Perhaps they were .. er ... playing cards or something. Having a smoke." he said desperately.
Pippin gave him a pitying look.

Merry shook his head to clear the images that were littering his brain. " Okay, what do we do now?" he asked. Pippin waved an arm in Boromir's direction.

"Well, we can't leave him, he's too upset!"

"But Boromir doesn't get upset! He hits things with a sword! He's reliable like that!"

"Well, look at him!" The hobbits surveyed the slumped seated warrior. Merry frowned.

"Okay, so possible upset-ness may have occurred-"

"Upset-ness??!"

"You know what I mean, Pip. Right, someone needs to be here. And I'll go and find Aragorn, and-"

"Have a word with him?" Pippin raised an eyebrow. Merry shrugged.

"Possibly. Depending on his mood. If not I'll run away until he's better."

"A plan with no drawbacks, obviously." said Pippin, dryly.

Merry looked at him. " You got to scout last time. My go now." He scuttled off towards the camp. Pippin sighed, and wandered back over to Boromir, who hadn't moved from when they had left him. Pippin settled himself back down, and gave another comforting pat to Boromir's back.

Oh well, he thought, at least he's not crying.

Out of all the thoughts that were going through his mind, this was the most comforting.

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Merry emerged into the camp to find even more chaos than when he had left. Frodo and Gandalf had returned from their stroll and had been surprised to find a tearful Sam being comforted by an embarrassed Gimli. However, the dwarf had also obviously heard what had made the hobbit so unhappy and was making threats regarding his axe and Boromir's manhood. Aragorn was lurking around the side of the camp, glaring so hard at the foliage that Merry was surprised that it hadn't withered away under the stare. Legolas was nowhere to be seen.

Merry crept away from Gandalf, who was surveying the scene distastefully. However, Gandalf noticed the obvious movement away from him.

"Mr Brandybuck! A moment of your time if you please." Gandalf gave a last stare at Aragorn, and motioned the hobbit to follow him. Merry groaned, but obeyed reluctantly. He scuttled past the ranger, whose eyes he could feel on his back as he passed.

Gandalf only walked a few paces back up the path before he turned. " Might I have your version of events please?"

Merry shuffled his feet. " I don't know much at all," he said. " And it'll all be wrong anyway,"

Gandalf sighed. " At the moment you appear to be the only one present who does not seem to be emotionally overcharged at the moment. Gimli is making the most explicit threats I've heard for a long time, Sam appears to attempting to produce a river all by himself, and Aragorn is acting as though he has sat on a rather large hedgehog. Kindly explain to me what is going on,"

Merry put his hands in his pockets, and glanced behind him to make sure that Aragorn was not nearby. " Well, Strider's accused Boromir of spreading rumours or something," he started. Gandalf raised his eyes to heaven.

"Has he had any proof?" he sighed. Merry shrugged.

"Don't think so. He didn't speak to Sam, just threw Boromir out the camp and went to have a .." Merry searched for the best diplomatic word for the situation, " - discussion." he finished lamely.

Gandalf raised an eyebrow. " In what form did this discussion take place?" he asked.

"Don't know?" he tried.

Gandalf's _expression hardened. " I see. Well, at least Aragorn does not appear to have any limbs missing, which suggests that any damage was either kept to Boromir or Aragorn has finally controlled his temper." Gandalf glanced at Merry, who was trying not to make eye-contact, and sighed again. " I take it that option two is not applicable to this situation."

Gandalf started to walk back, then paused as a thought hit him. " Where is Boromir at this moment in time?"

"He was over there with Pippin," Merry indicated with a hand. Gandalf nodded, and turned back to walk to the camp.

"I would stay away from him currently, young hobbit. Although by saying this I have no doubt this will automatically ensure that you will go back and find him."

"Okay!" Merry scuttled to the side and disappeared into the bushes.

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Aragorn looked up as Gandalf re-entered the camp, and noted the disappearance of the hobbit. He frowned, gave one last search of the bushes, and turned to speak to the wizard. He was startled and embarrassed to notice the hard cold stare that he was getting.

"Gandalf, I - " he began, but Gandalf cut him off by raising a hand.

"Frodo, Aragorn and I will go for a walk. Will you be okay at camp?"

Frodo glanced from the wizard to the ranger, who avoided his gaze. He shrugged, and put his arm back round Sam.

"We'll be fine," he said. Gandalf nodded, and turned again to walk from the clearing.

"I could get very tired of doing this," the wizard muttered as he walked back up the path with Aragorn in tow. Finally, a few more paces along the path, he turned to face the ranger.

"I can explain," said Aragorn after a pause. There was another silence. In the lengthening break, Aragorn could hear the song of a blackbird in the nearby trees.

"I could not allow the Fellowship to be broken up by whisperings in the dark," he continued desperately. Gandalf said nothing.

"I only did what I thought was right," he said.

Gandalf finally broke his silence. " I see." he said.

Aragorn risked a glance at the wizard. The _expression he found there had not improved.

"What evidence did you have that it was Boromir who was to blame?" asked the wizard, as it became clear that Aragorn was not going to continue.

"Sam said-"

"But you did not speak to Sam," replied the wizard, his voice soft. " Did you?"

Aragorn hesitated. " Not as such, but he did attack Boromir and therefore..." he trailed off.

"You thought you would have a go?"

"No!"

"So, if I were to go to the clearing where Boromir is presently, there would be no indications of any injury caused by yourself?"

Aragorn was silent. Gandalf sighed, and turned from the ranger.

"I suggest you go and have another talk with the Lord of Gondor, Aragorn. However, make it closer to that talk you gave him at Rivendell rather than your earlier discussions." Gandalf looked back at Aragorn, who was fidgeting uncomfortably.

"What did you say to him at Rivendell, incidentally?"

Aragorn looked away from the wizards gaze. There was a pause.

"It wouldn't work again." he said.

"Destroyed the moment, eh?" Gandalf smiled as Aragorn looked at him in shock. " You're hardly subtle, Aragorn. And neither is he. Go and talk to him."

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From what Merry could see as he rejoined his cousin in the clearing, Boromir's state of mind had not improved. The warrior had not moved since Merry had last seen him, and had made no attempt to wipe the thin line of blood that had slowly moved down his jaw from his split lip. Merry carefully picked his way to Pippin's side, casting wary
glances at Boromir as he did so.
" Is he all right?" he mouthed. Pippin frowned.

"What?"

Merry sighed. Sometimes being the bright one had its disadvantages. He was also perplexed by Pippin's sudden physical friendliness towards Boromir, or at least his perseverance to use Boromir as a pillow. Merry waved an arm in Boromir's general direction.

"Has he said anything?" he asked.

"You haven't asked anything," replied Boromir. The hobbits jumped, as if the rocks themselves had suddenly arisen and proceeded to dance the tango. Boromir smiled to himself, and adjusted his position to lie down. He gazed at the sky, which had been framed by the surrounding tree canopy. He did not need to glance at the Hobbits to
know that one or both of them were engaged in making frantic gestures towards him, possibly with a very bad version of sign language and undoubtedly worried expressions.

He was not surprised when Merry, no doubt egged on by his cousin, edged his way into Boromir's line of vision hesitantly. The hobbit was wringing his hands nervously, and was giving panicked looks towards Boromir's side, where Pippin had slumped to the floor after discovering too late that his pillow had inconveniently moved position.

"Er. Um," began Merry. He was made all the more nervous when Boromir rested his eyes lightly on the hobbit, waiting for the continuation.

"Hi," Merry finished lamely. A twinge of pain crossed Merry's face where Pippin had obviously kicked him in the shin.

"How are you feeling?" continued the hobbit nervously. Boromir idly moved positions, making himself comfortable. There was a small cry of protest from Pippin, who had still not regained his pillow.

"Would you like anything?" said Merry hurriedly. " I can get you some water, or food - shut up Pip - or even... ," the hobbit trailed off as something on the other side of the clearing distracted him. " Oh shit,"

An unusual offer, thought Boromir idly. He glanced at the hobbit, who was doing a marvellous impression of a rabbit who has seen a large wolf appear in its line of vision. He moved his head to follow the hobbit's gaze, and quickly discovered the reason for the hobbit's actions. Aragorn was marching up the clearing towards them.

Boromir went back to looking at the sky. Merry had scuttled to sit by Pippin, who had finally managed to position himself so that he could use Boromir's right arm as a pillow.

Aragorn reached them, and made a glare at the hobbits, who were watching him carefully.

"I believe Frodo wishes for your company," he said pointedly.

"They stay," replied Boromir, not taking his gaze away from the sky.

"We have to protect Boromir!" said Pippin, and cowered under the frosty glare that was being directed at him. Boromir grinned to himself, and waited for Aragorn's answer.

"Should we not talk privately?" said Aragorn in a low voice.

Boromir heaved himself into a sitting position. " We tried that one before," he rubbed his jaw ruefully. " And in Rivendell as well. What did you have in mind this time?"

Now that Boromir could see Aragorn's _expression it was clear that the presence of the hobbits were making him uncomfortable. Aragorn gave another look at the hobbits, then desperately back at Boromir with a pleading _expression. Looking at Boromir, it was clear to Aragorn he would find no help there.

"I apologise for my earlier actions," he began. " I was .. upset,"

Boromir gave him an assessing look. " It didn't mean anything to you at all did it."

Aragorn looked panicked. " What? Hitting you?"

"No. Rivendell"

This did not help Aragorn's composure. After expecting a verbal attack from the front, the conservation had suddenly attacked from beneath. Aragorn stared at Boromir in confusion and embarrassment, then took a side glance at the fascinated hobbits.

Desperately, he turned back to Boromir. " Not here. Not now." he hissed.

Boromir looked at him in disgust. " Then when, my king?" he said coldly. " Do you not wish for your minions to hear your methods of leadership?"

"I'm not a minion!" protested Pippin. " That's a vegetable!" Merry successfully inserted an elbow sharply into Pippin's side, and was rewarded by a quiet ooff! and silence.

Boromir and Aragorn had ignored the minor outburst, and were simply staring at each other. Aragorn was the first to drop his eyes.

"Are you sorry you did it?" he asked finally. Boromir considered the question.

"No. However, I am sorry I did not understand what you were going to be like beforehand. It would have made the after effects so much easier to bear." Boromir narrowed his eyes. " You?"

Aragorn made a grunt. " It's hard to say." he said. " For the night, no. For its effects here today, yes, I would be."

The hobbits had turned from one face to another, wide eyed and open mouthed, as though watching an incredibly impressive game of tennis. Aragorn glanced back at them in obvious irritation, but said nothing.

"Have you seen Legolas?" Aragorn asked finally. Boromir frowned, as if the name was unfamiliar to him.

"Should I have done?"

"It is he ... no, I have made that mistake before." Aragorn paused before continuing. " I believe it is he who has caused this situation, whatever the intention he may have had," Boromir was silent for a few moments, and idly picked at the grass in front of him with calloused fingers. Finally, he looked back at the ranger.

"And why would he do this?" he said. Aragorn hesitated, and took a momentary glance at the hobbits. However, this look was tinged with embarrassment rather than irritation.

"I believe he may have wished to engineer another situation between us," Aragorn said in a low voice. Boromir stared at him in bewilderment.

"I am still at a loss to why he would bother to take such action," he said. " And why this idea has come to you in the first place,"

Aragorn glanced back at the way he had just come; he knew well that he could not see anything, but anything was better than looking back at that steady gaze. He was thankful to be in enough control to halt any nervous or embarrassed twitching; his feet were already eager to shuffle.

"It was his wine," he said finally, without turning round. Merry and Pippin exchanged glances over the possibility that a lone bottle of wine could have that level of significance, but kept it to themselves.

Boromir's eyes narrowed. His fingers paused from the steady destruction of the small patch of grass in front of him.

"How much did he know?" he asked coldly. " How much did you tell him?"

"I did not tell him anything. He knew." said Aragorn in a similarly cold voice. He stared pointedly at the hobbits, who were looking uncomfortable, then finally at Boromir. " And why should you care who knows?"

Boromir growled softly, in the back of his throat.

"We can go find him if you want!" offered Pippin, startled by the growl so close to him. Merry nodded enthusiastically. Aragorn gave them an amused side-glance, but said nothing.

Boromir gave a grim smile, and nodded, not taking his eyes off Aragorn. The hobbits scrambled to their feet, and bounced towards the camp.

"Count on us!" said Merry cheerfully. " We'll find him!"

"Yep!" added Pippin.

They looked at each other, then scuttled away. The warriors watched their surprisingly quick progress through the grass in silence. Aragorn sighed lightly.

"I wish them well, although I can only see them getting themselves exhausted. However, that would probably not be a bad thing." Smoothly, Aragorn crouched down beside Boromir. " We must sort this out, Boromir,"

Boromir looked at him wearily, and lay back onto the grass. From the corner of his eye he could see Aragorn sigh, and also settle himself on the grass. For a few minutes they merely examined their surroundings in silence.

"I'm sorry," said Aragorn quietly.

In the resulting silence, Aragorn could still hear the singing of that lone blackbird, hidden somewhere in the trees. Bloody thing's following me, he thought idly. He glanced back at Boromir, whose _expression had changed from the faintly amused and sarcastic to what he could honestly say was blank. He could see something battling within the eyes though, possibly anger, amusement or perhaps a mixture of the two.

Aragorn sighed again, a low heavy sigh that signaled the start of the exhaustion he felt in every limb. Now that the adrenaline had abated, he could feel the days trek take their toll on his body; even his fist had started to throb from where he had hit Boromir previously.

To his side, Boromir stirred lightly, as if coming out of a light doze.

"Would it be fair to assume," said Boromir, and it was the voice of one who has peered into the future knowing that what he will find would be rotten and decaying. " that the scene at Rivendell will never happen again?"

Aragorn was shocked to find how much this actually disturbed him. Previously, there had been no mention of it never happening again and therefore the concept had been buried at the back his mind happily and without protest. Of course it couldn't possibly happen again, he thought. At all. Ever. Without a doubt. Just not the done thing. Was it. Was it?

However, these views were not put into words, partly because Aragorn was reluctant to speak, partly because even if he had felt the urge to babble he could never find the words to express his babbling in a suitable manner (although errr was becoming the favourite possibility) and partly because he could see Pippin come careering down the clearing as if the entire Orc population was on his heels.

Pippin skidded to a halt in front of them, and stood there, beaming proudly. Boromir and Aragorn surveyed him curiously, as if he was some type of unusual small furry animal who had just performed a series of interesting tricks with balls.

"Got him!" he said.

Aragorn blinked at him. " Got who?" he asked, confused. Pippin gave him a look that he only normally reserved for his cousin whenever Merry had scoffed the last of the muffins.

"Legolas!"

"Oh." Aragorn cast around for something to say. " Well done."

Pippin nodded, as if showing that elf-capturing was all in a days work, and made impatient gestures for them to follow him. Boromir eyed him curiously.

"Pippin, you appear to either be in severe pain or you have a weasel down your breeches," he commented. Pippin made an exasperated noise.

"We can only keep him down for a short time!" he complained. Aragorn jerked his head up.

"Keep him down?" he repeated. " What have you done with him, exactly?"

Pippin grinned, and put his hands in his pockets in the classic cheeky urchin manner. " Got him tied down," he said.

"Really?" said Aragorn in disbelief.

"Really?" said Boromir with a wide grin.

They looked at each other, and without a word started to get to their feet. Boromir stretched, while Aragorn retrieved the weaponry they had placed aside to allow for relaxation.

"Where is he?" Aragorn asked as they began to follow the hobbit back to the camp. Pippin bounced to their side like a two legged version of Lassie, and made more gestures to the side of the camp.

"Had to get him off to the side, otherwise Gimli would let him go!" he said. " Sam and Merry are watching him at the moment!"

Boromir halted in mid-stride. " Sam?" he said worriedly. " Is he armed with a saucepan?"

Pippin frowned. " Frying pan I think," he said, then glanced back to where Boromir had stopped with a panicked look on the warriors face. " Oh, don't worry, he won't use it on you. Probably!"

Aragorn was amused. " He's just one hobbit, Boromir," he said cheerfully.

Boromir took another reluctant step towards the camp. " He's one hobbit with whom I can't fight back," he muttered. " Give me an orc any day. Or two. I'm allowed to hit those."

----------------------------------------------------------------------

By the time they had reached the area, Sam had obviously calmed down from his previous state. However, Boromir was careful to note the appearance of not just one frying pan, but two more saucepans lying on the floor, as if for backup. Everyone knew the importance of the pans to Sam, more important than Gandalf's staff or Aragorn's sword, so they were carefully avoided. Boromir was thankful to note that Sam was not paying him any attention other than a suspicious glare, and made sure that he was on the other side of the clearing to him when they finally reached Legolas.

The hobbits had made an enthusiastic, if not particularly efficient job of keeping Legolas to the ground. The elf was sitting on a log, with his hands and feet tied with what appeared to be the group's full supply of rope. A makeshift gag had been tied around his mouth, tied again with what appeared to be a custom hobbit knot. The eyes above the gag were obviously amused and without fear, despite the continuing threats of Sam and the frying pan. Legolas looked as if he was engaged in nothing but a morning's bird watching.

"There you go!" said Merry. " Do you want us to soften him up a bit?"

Boromir repressed a laugh. Aragorn glanced at the soft amused gaze he was getting from the elf, and could automatically understand what the elf was thinking; oh go on, let them soften me up.

Aragorn, who had managed to beat his own rising amusement down to bearable levels, made a thoughtful sound. " I think," he said finally, nudging Boromir. " that we should take over here. After all, he could be capable of anything,"

Boromir, incapable of any type of speech, merely nodded.

Sam brandished his frying pan. " I'd like to see him try!" he said hotly. " I'll show him what happens to people who spread vicious rumours around!"

The mention of the rumours sobered Aragorn enough for his amusement to abate further. He stared at the elf, then glanced back at the hobbits who were watching him expectantly.

"Could you wait for us at the camp, please?" he asked politely. Sam collected his pan armory, muttering all the while about the deviousness of elves, what the world was coming to, and, as you couldn't change hobbit nature, supper. Pippin and Merry reluctantly left the area, casting worried looks back at Boromir.

After the hobbits had left, Aragorn glanced back at Legolas.

"They've gone. You can move now," he said. With what appeared to be just a quick movement, the ropes fell from the elves wrists to land in an untidy pile on the floor by his feet. The gag made a likewise vanishing act, and the ropes at his ankles lasted only a mere moment.

"I do like to encourage them," he remarked, once the last rope had fallen. Legolas adjusted his position on the log, and gave them a bright smile. His eyes rested on the bruises and cuts that Boromir had sustained.

"Those look painful," he commented, in the same casual voice. " Not particularly life threatening, I have to admit, but so annoying." Legolas' eyes slid to the ranger, then back again. " Did he offer to kiss them better?"

Boromir frowned, and rubbed his jaw. " Not exactly,"

Legolas raised his eyebrows, and turned to Aragorn, who was fuming in the corner. " My word, you're getting slow in your old age." he commented. Aragorn merely scowled at him. Finding no immediate sport in that direction, Legolas turned his attention back to Boromir.

"What has he told you?" he asked in a pleasant voice. Boromir frowned.

"That's what I was going to ask you,"

Legolas made a tutting noise, and looked at Aragorn reproachfully. " It always helps to mention details to your lover, you know. They do like to be told occasionally,"

"How bloody dare you interfere in this!" Aragorn exploded, unable to keep silent in the corner any longer. Legolas gave him a cold, detached look, which clearly said that he thought that Aragorn was being unreasonable about the matter, and slid off the log that he had been sitting on to wander casually towards the infuriated ranger.

"You've almost destroyed the fellowship by your meddling! And for
what? To nit pick about our relationship?!"

"You have a relationship?" asked Legolas coolly. " Since when has it been a relationship and not simply an event?"

Aragorn stared at him, then glanced at Boromir who was giving him an intense look. Aragorn looked back at the elf desperately.

"Of course there was a relationship!" he said, although his voice lacked conviction. He focused his attention on Legolas, desperately trying to ignore the stare that was emanating from Boromir's direction.

Legolas gave a low chuckle to himself, and turned his attention back onto Boromir. The warrior had obviously all but forgotten the elf's existence; his eyes were firmly fixed onto Aragorn, who was equally making intense effort not to meet the gaze. Legolas studied this with interest. Was it embarrassment for the night on the part of the ranger, or the lack of suitable after care? Legolas had already noted the silences, the avoidance, the desperate glances by both parties whenever they thought the other wasn't looking. Really, Legolas concluded to himself, if the others were not so wrapped up in their own concerns it would be glaringly obvious to everyone.

"Do you actually care about him?" continued Legolas, as the deepening silence threatened to choke them all. Aragorn stared at him.

"Of course I do!" he said firmly.

"Since when?" came Boromir's icy comment from his corner. Legolas smiled to himself. This was even easier than he had imagined. Really, Men could be brave and strong and loyal and whatever else Gandalf had claimed, but they could be manipulated so very easily. Minds like putty. Emotional and brave putty, but putty nevertheless.

Meanwhile, the battle was still raging.

"I've always cared about you!" retorted Aragorn, angrily.

"Yes, like the way you care about getting the fellowship to work together. Not me at all," spat back Boromir. Aragorn gave an exasperated sigh.

"I can't do everything!" he snapped.

"No! But you could do something! Anything!"

"I've never meant to avoid you!"

Bollocks, thought Legolas.

"Bollocks!" shouted Boromir. " That's all you've meant to do for the past week!"

Aragorn winced. Lowering his voice, he walked closer to the upset warrior.

"So what was I supposed to do?" he said, his voice pitched low. " I'm engaged to Arwen, daughter of Elrond, if you remember. Suddenly wander over and say, well, sorry love, deals off, I've met this nice man from Gondor who, as far as I can see, hates my guts anyway? We can't afford for allies to be dubious about us simply because of my raging lust!"

Legolas raised an eyebrow. Boromir's jaw dropped. Legolas heard a couple of gasps from the nearby bushes, where evidently Merry and Pippin were lurking, unable to move away from what was the entertainment for the evening. Even Aragorn looked slightly startled
from what had been spoken.

Ah, thought Legolas mildly. The putty is getting some backbone. And a lustful one at that. About sodding time.

Boromir was obviously searching for something to say.

"I don't hate your guts," he said weakly. Aragorn gave him a hurt and disbelieving look, but said nothing. There was another long pause.

If that blackbird starts up again, thought Aragorn grimly, I'm going to shoot it.

"Raging lust?" said Boromir finally, resting on the phrase that they all had focused on immediately. Aragorn silently ground his teeth, cursing his ability to blurt out whatever he was thinking just because he was angry. He waved a hand, as if to try to lose some of the phrase's importance, spun around sharply enough to produce a heel mark in the softer grassy floor and marched back to his original corner.

"Yes," he said over his shoulder. He's going to laugh, he thought
desperately. And then he'll leave me.
After a few moments pause, he allowed himself a look back at Boromir. He hadn't moved, a look of surprise and bewilderment still stamped on his face. Finally, the warrior shook his head, as if coming out of a daze, and gave a glare. However, Aragorn was pleased to note that it was towards Legolas rather than himself.

"Sod off," he ordered. Legolas gave Boromir a hurt look, but began to move away from them. However, he allowed himself the opportunity to give Aragorn an openly mischievous look, before walking off towards the camp.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Merry edged closer to Pippin, desperately trying to avoid rustling the leaves of the bush they were in. Luckily, neither Aragorn nor Boromir appeared to be in the rustle-noticing mood. Merry glanced at Pippin, who was watching the two warriors with what was obviously a mixture of discomfort and fascination. Fascination also appeared to be winning.

Merry stared back at the two warriors in the clearing. He had never even considered Aragorn's speed in removing breeches before now, he thought to himself. Obviously an underrated skill. Without moving his eyes from the spectacle in front of him, he side whispered to Pippin. " We shouldn't be here,"

"Definitely not," agreed Pippin, also not averting his eyes.

"It's impolite and disrespectful," continued Merry, watching in fascination as Boromir stripped off his tunic in a surprisingly graceful move before grabbing Aragorn into what could only be called a steamy embrace.

"Not to mention rather rude," commented Pippin. Their eyes followed Aragorn as he managed to push the now naked Boromir onto his back, pin him down to the floor and start to slowly lick Boromir's chest.

"We should really go now," said Merry, without moving.

"Yep," agreed Pippin.

They sat there for another couple of minutes, in which time Boromir had managed to get the upper hand and was now focusing his attention on a particular area of Aragorn's lap. Pippin wished desperately for a pair of binoculars.

"We really shouldn't be here," repeated Merry, as Aragorn's moans drifted to them across the clearing. Pippin nodded thoughtfully. There was a long pause.

"Aren't we naughty?" Pippin said finally.

"Definitely," replied Merry. They watched as Boromir got to his feet, his back to them, obviously saying something to Aragorn but in such a low voice that the hobbits could not make all of it out. Pippin studied Boromir thoughtfully.

"Would it be wrong to comment that he's got a nice arse?" he asked. Merry glanced at him, then reverted his gaze back to the pair in the clearing who had gone back to their game of cuddle-wrestle. No doubt they would have grass stains in interesting places before the morning.

"Yes," he said firmly. " Under the whole impolite and disrespectful area,"

"Oh," Pippin was silent for a minute, which coincided with Boromir's loud gasp/moan as a result of Aragorn's hand in interesting and active locations. " Should I deny that he has a nice arse then?"

Merry pondered over this possible breach of etiquette whist simultaneously watching Aragorn move his hand away from Boromir's groin and reach somewhere else. The bush and Aragorn's back were unfortunately in the way to be able to get a firm confirmation where the hand had moved to, but by Boromir's reaction Merry thought he had a fair idea.

"No," decided Merry, as they watched Boromir arch his back and give a loud moan, " for he obviously has got a nice arse, and therefore you would be lying and insulting the bearer of the fine arse. So, really, you should keep the fact to yourself, unless called upon to comment."

"I see," Pippin fidgeted on the ground, trying to get a better viewing point. " Merry, I can't see properly. There's a bush in the way,"

Merry sighed to himself. " We're in a bush, Pip," he said patiently. " It comes with the territory,"

"Did you have to choose such a leafy bush?" complained Pippin.

"Me? Since when did I become chief bush chooser?" protested Merry. " Besides which, it's known as camouflage, you daft Took. Otherwise we would have ring side seats and a big bucket of popcorn beside us,"

"Oh, so the bucket of popcorn doesn't worry the impolite and disrespectful area then?!" Pippin sulked for a few moments, then managed to locate a better viewing hole through the unrepentant bush. They watched in silence again as Boromir managed to withdraw from Aragorn's attentions, and start his own attack.

"Don't they worry about splinters?" asked Pippin, finally. Merry looked at his cousin in surprise, then back at the two thoughtfully.

"Well, its not as if they're in ... er... close quarters with any sticks,"

"Not true. There's a load on the floor," protested Pippin. They pondered over this query.

"Obviously its a risk they're willing to take," commented Merry, as the warriors in front of them tussled for domination over the grassy yet possibly splinter rich clearing. Aragorn appeared to win, although Merry had suspicions that this was only because Boromir allowed him to. The scene suddenly got a lot more difficult to see as Aragorn's back got in the way again.

The hobbits considered this.

"Blimey!" gasped Pippin. " Boromir's a closet submissive!"

"Well, he can't be tough all the time I suppose," allowed Merry. " He's been giving hints about it, too,"

Pippin stared at his cousin in bewilderment. " How?"

"Well, he's the only one with a shield, isn't he?"

Pippin considered this new observation, whilst watching the rhythmic thrusting of Aragorn in front of him. It was almost relaxing, in a repetitive way.

"Boromir's going to get splinters in the bum if he's not careful," Pippin said gravely.

"You and your splinters!" scoffed Merry.

Pippin waggled a finger. " Never get complacent about splinters! Although he might like it though," he continued thoughtfully. Merry raised an eyebrow.

"You've only seen him once and you're already marking him down as a masochist!"

Pippin frowned. " What's a massikist?"

"Someone who gets their kicks from pain," explained Merry patiently.

Pippin's frown cleared. " Oh right! I thought it was some weird breed of parrot."

"Boromir may be a lot of things," said a soft voice behind them. " but a weird type of parrot probably isn't one of them. He hasn't got the wings for it, for a start,"

The hobbits spun round as best they could from their sitting positions, mud and splinters forgotten in panic. Legolas looked at them amused, then turned his gaze to the two figures in the clearing in front of them.

"Legolas!" gasped Merry. " But this is our bush!"

"In that case, I apologise for invading your personal bush," said Legolas gravely, with obviously no intention to move. With a cat-like grace, Legolas crouched beside them, borrowing Pippin's spy hole to continue his observations. Suddenly Aragorn gave a cry, echoed a few seconds later by Boromir.

Legolas stood up in satisfaction. " Aragorn 1, Boromir 0, I believe," he commented, and eyed the hobbits thoughtfully. " We should go, before they work out we were here. I doubt whether a simple suggestion of bird-watching would be a suitable excuse,"

After that performance, the hobbits had to agree with him.

*****

THE END

Go to the next story in the series: Revenge - The First Step

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