The Next Celebrity Chef - Boromir, Son of Gondor!

Title: Gondorian Muffins
Pairing: A/B
Summary: Boromir makes muffins
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Characters and places not mine - they belong to J. R. R. Tolkien & New Line
Notes: Pure silliness! Posted to "Rugbytackle", "Sons of Gondor" and "Bean Squee"
Beta: Not beta-ed
Feedback: Would love it!
Archive: Rugbytackle. Anyone else, just ask first

Okay, this is extreme silliness, and it is entirely down to muck_a_luck

Born from her recipe for Pumpkin Chocolate Chip muffins, and then putting the idea of Manly Men in the kitchen in my head! And I've already got ideas for several more ficlets including a Christmas special! Now I need a culinary Boromir icon!

For the recipe, click here

Gondorian Muffins

Boromir stood in Elrond's kitchen, stirring the contents of a large bowl with a wooden spoon. His companion was leaning against a cupboard, watching intently with a smile playing around his lips.

“I had no idea the Stewards sons were taught to cook!”

( Boromir shot him a withering look. )

Aragorn's Bed

Title: Aragorn's Bed ...
Pairing: A/B
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Companion piece to "Boromir's Bed". Beds that Aragorn has known. Came about after thinking back to a creative writing exercise I did a few years ago with my original characters "Describe the childhood bed, current bed and fantasy bed of your character".
Disclaimer: Characters and places not mine - they belong to J. R. R. Tolkien & New Line
Notes: Partly Bookverse (Staying in Rivendell for a while before the Fellowship sets out, and resting in Lothlorien), partly Movieverse and partly my own view of Aragorn and Boromir. 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

It's a companion piece to Boromir's Bed ... with a little less emphasis on beds - just the way it came out. Enjoy!

Aragorn's Bed ...

When he first arrived in Rivendell, Aragorn shared his Mother's bed. It was a thing of beauty, covered with delicately carved knotwork, the same that adorned most of Rivendell, with a deep mattress covered in soft, downy quilts.

Aragorn's mother would read to him each night as they snuggled into his warm bed. She told him tales of Elves, and Men and Dwarves, and funny little things called hobbits. As he got a little older, after she had fallen asleep, he would sometimes lie awake for hours, his fingers lacing in and out of the knotwork at the foot of the bed. He would look out at the moon, and think of his father who had died when he was two. He had no clear memories of him, and often wondered who he had been, as no-one ever spoke of him.

Although he grew with the grace and manner of the elves, it was a little hard for a human child to fit into the tranquil life of Rivendell. Some of his favourite times were when he could spend afternoons with his mother in the woods around Rivendell, running and laughing and letting out the more boisterous side of his nature, his human side. And he did try to stay clean, but found it almost impossible. Elves never seemed to get dirty, even when they had been out in the woods all day, whereas Aragorn would always be whisked off for a bath on his return from playing before he could trail mud through the palace.

Years later, with his destiny and lineage finally revealed to him, it was time for him to leave Rivendell to rejoin the world of men. The day he left, he stood at the foot of his bed, fingers unconsciously tracing familiar patterns in the wood, and stared out of the window. He would miss his home but knew that his travels would bring him here again and wherever he went, he carried with him all he had learned in the house of Elrond, lessons that would serve him well all his life.


( Aragorn spent a large part of his adult life sleeping on whatever patch of ground was available, soft ot not. )

Asparagus

Title: Asparagus
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: A/B
Summary: Boromir eats, Aragorn watches.
Disclaimer: Characters and places not mine - they belong to J. R. R. Tolkien & New Line
Notes: Partly (amazingly!) bookverse (Staying in Rivendell for a while before the Fellowship sets out). Posted to "Rugbytackle", "Sons of Gondor" and "Bean Squee".
Beta: not beta-ed
Feedback: Would love it!
Archive: Rugbytackle. Anyone else, just ask first

A follow up to "Gondorian Muffins", which sees Boromir out of the kitchen (for now!). Probably best to read that first to set the scene.

Thanks again to milochka for the icon :)

And to muck_a_luck for the original culinary inspiration ;)

Asparagus

“A good axe is worth several swords!”

Aragorn sat eavesdropping on the conversation being held across the feast table.

Boromir was listening to Gimli extolling the virtues of his favourite weapon. Lately it seemed that between patrolling, comparing weapons with Gimli, and producing an endless supply of muffins for the hobbits, he had little time for anything else.

Aragorn missed his company.

There was still a little flour on Boromir's bare forearm from that afternoon's muffin making and Aragorn's fingers itched to reach over and brush it off. A thought that disturbed him greatly. This was a fellow warrior, a comrade, yet the urge to touch his skin wouldn't leave Aragorn's mind, no matter how hard he tried to push it away.

In front of Boromir, there was a plate of asparagus dripping in herby butter. Between sentences he was eating the asparagus with his fingers, picking up each individual spike, tilting his head back to receive it and catching any stray drips of butter on his tongue.

( There was a small bowl of pale, creamy sauce by his plate )

Melting

Title: Melting
Pairing: A/B
Summary: Boromir’s thoughts while waiting for Gandalf to remember the way in Moria
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Characters and places not mine - they belong to J. R. R. Tolkien & New Line
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

Just a short schmoopy fic.

Also posted to rugbytackle, sons_of_gondor and bean_squee.

( Melting )

Urgency

Title: Urgency
Pairing: B/F
Summary: Boromir and Faramir's first night together in a while!
Rating: NC-17
Warning!: Incestuous, but between two grown up, fully consenting guys!!
Disclaimer: Characters and places not mine - they belong to J. R. R. Tolkien & New Line
Notes: Also posted to "Bean Squee" and "Ithilien Night".
Beta: not beta-ed
Feedback: Would love it!
Archive: Just ask first

My first full on smut fic. Just wanted to find the intensity of the moment.

Also posted to sons_of_gondor, bean_squee and ithilien_night

Urgency

In the dead of night, fire burns bright in the room, illuminating two bodies writhing in flickering light.

( Hands roam, fingers tangle in tousled hair ... )

Sweet Meat

Title: Sweet Meat
Pairing: A/B
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Aragorn helps out in the kitchen.
Disclaimer: Characters and places not mine - they belong to J. R. R. Tolkien & New Line
Notes: Partly (amazingly!) bookverse (Staying in Rivendell for a while before the Fellowship sets out). 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

Third in a series of humour/smut, so if you want to know what's going on, probably best to read part one "Gondorian Muffins" and part two "Asparagus" !

Boromir is back in the kitchen this time and also in the larder!

Thanks again to milochka for the icon :)

And to muck_a_luck for the original culinary inspiration ;)

Sweet Meat

The following morning, Rivendell was filled with a sweet spicy scent, which seemed to originate from the kitchen. Aragorn wasn't at all surprised when he walked through the door to find Boromir hard at work. His sleeves were rolled right up, and there were more smudges of what Aragorn assumed was flour on his arms.

As Aragorn approached, he turned and grinned at him.

“Morning.”

“Morning. Where did you get to last night? I looked for you.”

“Did you?”

“Boromir, we need to talk …”

“Give me a hand with these, and I’ll talk all you want. Later.”

( Aragorn looked around the kitchen ... )

Angsty Smut Fic - Into The West A/B NC-17

Title: Into the West
Pairing: A/B
Summary: What if Boromir survived Amon Hen?
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Characters and places not mine - they belong to J. R. R. Tolkien & New Line. Song lyrics belong to Howard Shore
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

What if Boromir survived Amon Hen?

Contains intense smut and intense angst.

Inspired in part by the "What if" drabbles by seleneheart here and cruisedirector here and here
and the track "Into the West from the ROTK soundtrack.

Also posted to rugbytackle, sons_of_gondor and bean_squee.

Disclaimer: Characters and places not mine - they belong to J. R. R. Tolkien & New Line. Song lyrics belong to Howard Shore

Into the West

Two years to the day since Boromir tried to take the ring from Frodo, he went missing. Again. An agitation akin to his behaviour on the road as they had neared Amon Hen had alerted Aragorn to his distress, and he had made sure that Faramir, Eowyn and Beregond were also close by, but Boromir had managed to evade them all. Aragorn strode through the citadel, hoping the people he passed would not notice the distraction behind his smiles of greeting. He had been through most rooms in the palace, most of Boromir's haunts, but the man himself had remained elusive. He knew Faramir was searching places in the lower levels, but he was certain Boromir was still here.

As he approached the throne room, he saw Beregond hurrying towards him. Faramir's trusted guard spoke without ceremony.

“My lord Boromir was seen entering the tower. The young guard who saw him was reluctant to approach him, as he appeared, ahh … determined in his course of action.”

( Aragorn nodded. )

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 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 )

Works in Progress

Snippets from two WIPs.

Longest fic yet, wherein Boromir needs hope, and Aragorn needs to find his purpose, and they find what they need in each other. Guest starring Faramir and Arwen. Much smut and angst and called (surprise, surprise!)...

( Hope and Purpose )

And a dark fic, based on Tolkien's original vision for Boromir ...

( Deception )

Steel

Title: Steel
Fandom: The Mummy
Pairing: Rick/Ardeth
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing with them for a while :)
Notes: A little silliness born of an entertaining convo, exactly a double drabble, for seleneheart. Um, I sorta nicked your Ardeth icon to post it :)

The tent was dark, empty. Rick laid down his rifle with a sigh, not bothering to light one of the ornate lamps sitting on the small carved table, rather relying on the sliver of moonlight that had followed him through the tent flap.

He eased his braces off, rolling his shoulders back to ease out the day’s tension, moving his neck round in a circle before pulling off his shirt over his head. As it dropped from his fingers to the floor he felt the heavy steel of a curved scimitar blade pressed to his throat.

His eyes closed as he stood stock still, not even daring to swallow and cursing himself inwardly for letting down his guard. But as his assailant silently moved closer, Rick’s lips curved into a smile as he caught a familiar heady spiced scent.

The blade never moved as a warm well muscled body pressed against his back, and a voice husky, heavily accented purred in his ear.

“You are late.”

As the blade slipped from his skin, Rick turned slowly to look straight into dark eyes that glinted with amusement and he arched an eyebrow as he replied.

“And you should wear a bell.”

Originally posted under flock here.

It gets real hot out there in the desert ...

Titles: Sabre, Sweat and Sand
Fandom: The Mummy
Author: Torranach
Pairing: Rick and Ardeth
Rating: Between G and NC-17
Summary: Three ficlets which follow on from each other nicely!
Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine, just borrowing them for a while :)
Notes: A little humour, a little hotness and a little fluff


( SABRE )

( SWEAT )

( SAND )

Cross-posted to mummy_slash

Raising Théodred

Title: Raising Théodred
Fandom: LOTR
Author: Torranach
Characters: A very young Théodred and his grandmother, Morwen of Lossarnach
Rating: G
Summary: Théodred takes his grandmother to see the foals
Disclaimer: Characters aren't mine, just borrowing them for a while :)
Notes: This was inspired by seleneheart's wonderful drabble, Steelsheen. No date is given for Morwen's death, and it is entirely possible that she lived to see her grandchildren born and that she was an influence on Théodred as he grew.


“Nana!!”

Théodred raced into his grandmother’s study, and threw himself into her arms, wriggling around until he sat in her lap.

“Can we go and see the foals?”

Morwen looked down at her grandson with a serious face.

“Have you finished your studies?”

( Théodred nodded enthusiastically. )