eachdraidhean (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
eachdraidhean) wrote2005-06-12 01:29 am
eachdraidhean) wrote2005-06-12 01:29 am
Weapons and Warfare Humour fic A/B
Title: Weapons and Warfare
Pairing: A/B
Summary: When Aragorn met Boromir …
Rating: G, possibly PG-13 for smutty thoughts
Disclaimer: Characters and places not mine - they belong to J. R. R. Tolkien & New Line. A little paraphrasing of text from Chris Smith's brilliant book "LOTR Weapons and Warfare". Well worth buying!
Notes: Also posted to "Rugbytackle", "Sons of Gondor" and "Bean Squee".
Beta: not beta-ed
Feedback: Would love it!
Archive: Rugbytackle. Anyone else, just ask first
To balance out the total ansgt fest posted on Friday, Into the West, I give you a reworking of the scene in Elrond's chamber where Aragorn sees Boromir for the first time. Based on a post sent to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
muck_a_luck as a distraction for her from boring work!!
Weapons and Warfare
"Finally!"
Aragorn thought to himself as he found a comfortable chair in a quiet corner of Elrond's chamber. He opened the package that had arrived this morning, and took out the book that Glorfindel had ordered for him from amazon.me.
Reading "The Middle Earth Guide to Weapons and Warfare" had struck him as a good way of reacquainting himself with the fighting skills and abilities of other races that would be attending the council.
Aragorn mused to himself as he read.
"Elves, well no problem there, having grown up with a bunch of them. On to dwarves then. Hmm, secretive, antisocial, like to use long-handled weapons and favour axes. Well, I know enough Dwarvish swear words to get by ... perhaps I should check out Gondor, going to be King after all ... ooh, Faramir, he's ... pretty. Not bad with a bow either. Minas Tirith ... been there, done that ... urgh, Denethor! Wouldn't like to meet him on a dark night in Osgiliath ..."
Aragorn turned the page, and found something that interested him greatly.
"Ahhhhh"
He looked appreciatively at the picture in the book and began to read of the Steward's eldest son.
"Mmmm ... Boromir ... heir apparent. Yeah, right! Is he in for a shock!"
Aragorn heard footsteps, and used his entire ranger training to blend into the background so he could continue reading.
"Tall and strong ... stamina and physical strength ... forceful and commanding ..."
Aragorn looked up to find said Gondorian Prince walking through the room, admiring the murals.
"Hmmm ... not a bad likeness."
He continued to read.
"His sword ... like it's owner ... big broad and powerful ... ooh, bet that's an amazing sight! Great strength in his arm and wrist ... mmmm"
He looked at Boromir's hands, imagining them gripping the powerful sword in the picture ... imagining them gripping something else ...
Aragorn tried to get back to his book, and his eyes fell on a description of Boromir's garb. He read, his eyes flicking from the page to Boromir and back again as he took in the words and the man before him.
"... leggings ... soft, dark velvet ... mmm soft ... tied at the waist ... drawstring ... and if you pulled the string? ... tall leather boots ... gnuhhh ... tall ... leather ... boots ... and a red silk robe ... ahhh silky ... split to the groin ... g..g..g..groin? ... to allow it to be easily removed ... oh yeah, baby!!"
Aragorn squirmed in his seat, and Boromir, noticing his movements, turned to look into the corner, and straight into his eyes.
"You are no elf."
By the Valar, he'd forgotten how hot a Gondorian accent could be!
"The men of the south are welcome here."
"Vague, very vague. Get a hold of yourself!" Aragorn thought.
"Who are you?"
"I am friend to Gandalf the Grey." And can't for the life of me remember my own name!
"Then we are here on common purpose ... friend."
Boromir looked a little puzzled. He turned, and seeing what lay on the pedastal, walked towards the Shards of Narsil.
Aragorn watched him moving, as if in slow motion.
"And now he's picking up the sword ... my sword ... and, ohh ...he’s holding it sooo tight ..."
Aragorn let out an involuntary groan, causing Boromir to cut his finger on the sword, which was, after all, still sharp. He turned to look at Aragorn, shock showing in his eyes as he recognised the lust he saw in Aragorn's own. The sword clattered to the ground, and he left the chamber, muttering to himself about heirlooms.
Aragorn stood up, adjusted his leggings, and went to put Narsil back on it's pedestal. He didn't hear Arwen enter the chamber, and nearly jumped out of his skin when she began to speak.
"Why do you fear the past ...?"
"Not now, Arwen!!"
Aragorn left, hot on Boromir's heels.
A little miffed, Arwen noticed the open book lying on a chair. She picked it up and began to read.
"Hmmm Boromir … tall and strong … big, broad and powerful … so when do I get to meet this guy?"
Pairing: A/B
Summary: When Aragorn met Boromir …
Rating: G, possibly PG-13 for smutty thoughts
Disclaimer: Characters and places not mine - they belong to J. R. R. Tolkien & New Line. A little paraphrasing of text from Chris Smith's brilliant book "LOTR Weapons and Warfare". Well worth buying!
Notes: Also posted to "Rugbytackle", "Sons of Gondor" and "Bean Squee".
Beta: not beta-ed
Feedback: Would love it!
Archive: Rugbytackle. Anyone else, just ask first
To balance out the total ansgt fest posted on Friday, Into the West, I give you a reworking of the scene in Elrond's chamber where Aragorn sees Boromir for the first time. Based on a post sent to
muck_a_luck as a distraction for her from boring work!!Weapons and Warfare
"Finally!"
Aragorn thought to himself as he found a comfortable chair in a quiet corner of Elrond's chamber. He opened the package that had arrived this morning, and took out the book that Glorfindel had ordered for him from amazon.me.
Reading "The Middle Earth Guide to Weapons and Warfare" had struck him as a good way of reacquainting himself with the fighting skills and abilities of other races that would be attending the council.
Aragorn mused to himself as he read.
"Elves, well no problem there, having grown up with a bunch of them. On to dwarves then. Hmm, secretive, antisocial, like to use long-handled weapons and favour axes. Well, I know enough Dwarvish swear words to get by ... perhaps I should check out Gondor, going to be King after all ... ooh, Faramir, he's ... pretty. Not bad with a bow either. Minas Tirith ... been there, done that ... urgh, Denethor! Wouldn't like to meet him on a dark night in Osgiliath ..."
Aragorn turned the page, and found something that interested him greatly.
"Ahhhhh"
He looked appreciatively at the picture in the book and began to read of the Steward's eldest son.
"Mmmm ... Boromir ... heir apparent. Yeah, right! Is he in for a shock!"
Aragorn heard footsteps, and used his entire ranger training to blend into the background so he could continue reading.
"Tall and strong ... stamina and physical strength ... forceful and commanding ..."
Aragorn looked up to find said Gondorian Prince walking through the room, admiring the murals.
"Hmmm ... not a bad likeness."
He continued to read.
"His sword ... like it's owner ... big broad and powerful ... ooh, bet that's an amazing sight! Great strength in his arm and wrist ... mmmm"
He looked at Boromir's hands, imagining them gripping the powerful sword in the picture ... imagining them gripping something else ...
Aragorn tried to get back to his book, and his eyes fell on a description of Boromir's garb. He read, his eyes flicking from the page to Boromir and back again as he took in the words and the man before him.
"... leggings ... soft, dark velvet ... mmm soft ... tied at the waist ... drawstring ... and if you pulled the string? ... tall leather boots ... gnuhhh ... tall ... leather ... boots ... and a red silk robe ... ahhh silky ... split to the groin ... g..g..g..groin? ... to allow it to be easily removed ... oh yeah, baby!!"
Aragorn squirmed in his seat, and Boromir, noticing his movements, turned to look into the corner, and straight into his eyes.
"You are no elf."
By the Valar, he'd forgotten how hot a Gondorian accent could be!
"The men of the south are welcome here."
"Vague, very vague. Get a hold of yourself!" Aragorn thought.
"Who are you?"
"I am friend to Gandalf the Grey." And can't for the life of me remember my own name!
"Then we are here on common purpose ... friend."
Boromir looked a little puzzled. He turned, and seeing what lay on the pedastal, walked towards the Shards of Narsil.
Aragorn watched him moving, as if in slow motion.
"And now he's picking up the sword ... my sword ... and, ohh ...he’s holding it sooo tight ..."
Aragorn let out an involuntary groan, causing Boromir to cut his finger on the sword, which was, after all, still sharp. He turned to look at Aragorn, shock showing in his eyes as he recognised the lust he saw in Aragorn's own. The sword clattered to the ground, and he left the chamber, muttering to himself about heirlooms.
Aragorn stood up, adjusted his leggings, and went to put Narsil back on it's pedestal. He didn't hear Arwen enter the chamber, and nearly jumped out of his skin when she began to speak.
"Why do you fear the past ...?"
"Not now, Arwen!!"
Aragorn left, hot on Boromir's heels.
A little miffed, Arwen noticed the open book lying on a chair. She picked it up and began to read.
"Hmmm Boromir … tall and strong … big, broad and powerful … so when do I get to meet this guy?"
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