Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Harry looked out the window without really seeing anything. He felt lost, not knowing what to do next.
Things weren’t supposed to go like this. He was going to leave Gondor soon!
Instead, here he was, sitting in a luxurious room and worrying for Boromir.
He knew he shouldn’t be surprised, taking into account that he’d always been fast in becoming fond of people. That had been his biggest weakness during the war.
The captain had left ten days before with a good number of soldiers to hunr down a group of orcs that had crossed the borders and attacked a small village.
He knew Boromir was a good warrior ―everybody had heard about him― but that didn’t stop him from worrying.
Everything had been so very confusing when, after their meeting in the garden, the man had ordered the rooms next to his own to be prepared for Harry.
Afterwards, the man had also ordered a whole wardrobe for him, despite his protests, and then some servants had brought them dinner.
Harry had barely been able to eat, too confused by what was happening. He’d realised the Captain wanted to woo him and he wasn’t a stranger to the term.
Harry had discovered that love at first sight was pretty common in Middle Earth and, although it made courtships seem very different from his world’s, Harry had eventually got used to the idea.
What he hadn’t imagined, even in his wildest dreams, was that there would be a man who’d want to court him. Now that he found himself in that situation, he wasn’t sure how to avoid it, or if he really even wanted to.
Truth was he felt very lonely in Arda. He missed his friends and, except for a few small talks here and there, he hadn’t really mingled with anybody since he arrived.
And Boromir was good company.
The man had treated him as an equal, not like a servant or a simple pastime, and he hadn’t tried to force him like others in his position would have tried.
That night they’d dined together and Boromir had bid him goodnight with a soft and chaste forehead kiss. Over the next three days, Boromir had visited him in his rooms whenever he was free.
At first, their interactions had been a bit uncomfortable, but not one day had passed before it started to feel normal, which surprised Harry. Maybe he’d integrated in Arda better than he’d believed if the situation didn’t seem so strange to him.
The youth always politely avoided questions about himself and directed the topic towards Boromir, who told him about what he’d seen outside of Gondor.
Harry had really enjoyed their talks and even the shows of caring that the man professed him; he wished all days would go on like those, at least for a time.
Once more, he found himself worrying about Boromir and felt like hitting himself. Boromir wasn’t Captain-General for nothing.
Harry knew the orcs were disgusting and vicious creatures, as he’d found out in his first encounter with them, but they shouldn’t be that big a problem for Boromir.
With a sigh, Harry resigned himself to keep waiting and gathered the runes book from the low table-top. He’d started it the night before in order to distract himself and then fallen asleep without finishing it.
Several hours later, when the sun began to go down, his reading was interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Come in.” he muttered without taking his sight off the book.
As soon as he finished the paragraph he’d been reading, his eyes rose and he blinked.
His brain took a few seconds to process the image of a tall man with a handsome and noble face, dark hair and grey eyes.
There, leaning against the doorframe, not taking his eyes off Harry and smiling, stood the very reason of his worries.
“Boromir!” he exclaimed.
“Good evening, Harry. I hope I’m not disturbing you, but a servant said you wished to be informed of my arrival.”
“I was worried.” He muttered blushing a bit and standing up.
Boromir closed the door and approached, taking the book from him and leaving it on top of the table. The Captain raised his hand and moved a lock of hair from his eyes, settling it behind his ear and also caressing his cheek at the same time.
“There’s no reason to worry; I am a good warrior.” Said Boromir, his smile widening a little bit.
“That doesn’t make you infallible.”
“No, but I can assure you that not even death would prevent me from always coming back to your side, much less a handful of orcs.” Added the son of the seneschal passionately.
Harry blushed and removed from his mind the warmth he felt at the man’s words. He lowered his head to hide his blush and heard a quiet laugh as a hand raised his chin.
The young wizard found himself staring into the depths of intense grey eyes and he felt incapable of looking away from them even when he felt a hand reach out for his.
His hand looked small and delicate between Boromir’s strong hands and Harry swallowed when the man’s warm lips caressed his knuckles.
He was so distracted that he didn’t even notice the Captain’s confusion when he caressed the back of the hand, but no one could have missed the dark expression on his face.
Harry followed his gaze and his eyes opened wide when he understood what the man was staring at.
The scars on his hand, although faint, could be felt and seen as fine silver lines on his left hand, nearly invisible.
“Who’s done this to you?” he demanded to know with fury in his voice.
Harry tore his gaze away and kept silent, trying to think up an explanation that wouldn’t reveal too much.
Boromir was furious. He couldn’t believe anyone would dare hurt his Harry. He wanted to know who did it and send the guards to search for them so he could end them himself.
Boromir wasn’t stupid. He’d seen the signs. Harry was a warrior and, judging by the way he moved and the wariness and carefulness he showed, he’d been well trained.
But Harry was also a sweet, kind and intelligent young man and Boromir was, sincerely, incapable of understanding how anyone could wish to harm him.
The scars looked like words, even though he didn’t recognise the words or the writing, and that indicated the harm was done purposefully and it wasn’t an accident at all.
“Harry, who’s done this to you?” he asked again whilst softly squeezing the hand between his when the youth tried to tear them away.
“It’s not important.”
“Of course it’s important!” exclaimed Boromir, unable to believe what he was hearing.
“No, no it doesn’t.” repeated Harry stubbornly. “There… there are things about me… about my past, that you don’t know. Things you could hardly imagine.”
The youth took a tremulous breath and Boromir was left breathless for a few seconds by the sight of the shadows that sometimes hid in the depths of those emeralds.
The pain and horror visible in his eyes made his heart clench. And then there was the fear. Hidden amongst so many other emotions, but as clear as the first time he looked him in the eyes.
This time, however, Boromir could finally understand that fear. Harry was afraid of his rejection.
He didn’t know who or what in his past could have caused him that fear, who could have made him doubt his own worth, his beauty, his right to be loved; but if they ever crossed Boromir’s path… may the Valar have mercy on them, for he would not.
Until then, he’d just have to show Harry how wrong those people had been. Because it didn’t matter what he’d gone through in the past; Boromir would never let his heart suffer again as long as he drew breath.
“Harry, I know we still don’t know each other too well and that you don’t yet trust me much, but I want you to know that your past won’t change what I feel. I would like to know, of course, but I won’t pressure you. I’ll wait till you’re ready. Your past matters to me because it is what has made you into who you are now, but what really matters is the future we can build together.”
Harry looked him in the yes with an unidentifiable emotion and ended up looking away.
“I need more time. My past is… delicate, and it has not given me a chance to trust too much. But I’m trying.” He added fast.
Boromir nodded and smiled with fondness before kissing the scar on Harry’s hand. The youth let out a sigh before closing his eyes a second.
“Oh, how rude of me.” He said suddenly. “You just arrived and must be exhausted. Do you want me to draw you a warm bath? Or would you rather eat first?”
The captain smiled warmly and shook his head slightly.
“The servants will take care of the bath, Harry. Right now, I only want to hold you in my arms for a little while.” Answered Boromir.
Loyal to his word, the man grabbed his waist and brought him close till their bodies were pressed together against each other before hiding his face in his black hair.
Harry tensed for a few seconds before wrapping his own arms around the captain’s waist, hiding his face in his strong chest, and allowing his body to relax into the safety and protection offered.
The wizard marvelled over how relaxed the man made him feel and he, after a few minutes of silence, turned them around and sat down on a chair with the dark-haired man in his lap.
Harry didn’t protest the move and settled his head on Boromir’s shoulder. The warrior said nothing, but Harry felt him wince slightly and drew away fast, turning to look at him harshly.
“Are you wounded?” he asked standing up.
“I’m fine.” Muttered the captain extending a hand and trying to make him go back to sitting in his lap.
“I’ve notice you flinching; you’re hurt. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It’s nothing serious, Harry. An orc sword grazed me, it wasn’t even poisoned.”
“Let me have a look.” Asked Harry trying to keep control of his voice.
“Harry…”
Boromir cut himself off when he saw Harry press his lips into a fine line.
The youth was calm and kind, but he had a fiery temper.
The captain admitted he liked that.
The fact that Harry was getting calmer in his presence and acted more naturally was something he hadn’t missed and it made something warm and foreign settle in his chest.
“It’s just a small cut. Later I’ll go and see the doctor if that will calm you down.” He tried to convince him one last time.
Harry kept looking at him seriously and Boromir sighed. The captain started to take off his shirt and decided it was worth it just to see Harry’s reaction.
The youth blushed, swallowed and looked away whilst changing his weight from one foot to the other nervously.
Boromir tried to hide his smile, getting a chiding look for his little success, and finished taking the shirt off.
Harry looked at him and Boromir enjoyed seeing he was still blushing, until he saw the wound and his demeanour changed again.
With a serious face, the young wizard walked closer and focused on the wound, ignoring the thoughts crossing his mind at the sight of the marked chest.
As Boromir had said, the wound wasn’t deep and the sword hadn’t even torn the muscle. The wound was, more than anything, an annoyance.
The cut looked clean, but Harry knew the biggest risk was it getting infected. In Middle Earth, they didn’t have the resources of his world and people even died of it.
Running through his mind a list of potions ready in his pouch, he nodded to himself.
“Harry?” called Boromir curiously when he saw him take something off his neck.
The youth ignored him and, without the warrior noticing, used accio to find a bottle of cream.
The warrior watched the closed bottle with curiosity and Harry smiled a bit.
“It’s a poultice we use where I come from. It’ll keep the wound from becoming infected.”
Boromir nodded without asking questions, signalling he trusted his word, and Harry uncorked the bottle. Carefully, he scooped up a bit of the cream with his fingers and put it on the wound.
The captain clenched his jaw, but refused to make a sound, making Harry smile to himself.
A few seconds after the cream entered into contact with the skin, the man let out a sigh and his body relaxed.
Harry continued applying the cream with immense care until it covered the wound fully, creating a near transparent film that protected it.
Next, he used a little bit of his magic to stimulate the cells and make them regenerate faster. It wasn’t much, one would have to stand for hours watching carefully to see the borders closing, but it was enough that the wound would disappear in a few days.
“You’ll have to apply it after bathing again and then in the morning and at night for two days.”
“You needn’t have bothered, it’s little more than a scratch.” Harry scowled and Boromir raised his hands in surrender. “Where did you get such a medicine?” he asked without hiding his wonder. “The pain has fully disappeared.”
“It’s one of the poultices we’ve developed with time.” Muttered looking him in the eyes.
“Do you have more of those medicines?” asked the man curiously and deciding to ignore that he hadn’t gotten a true answer. “And do you always carry them around?”
“Yes, I’m a bit, ah… paranoid.” ‘More like, level: Mad-Eye.’ “So it doesn’t hurt anymore?” he asked looking into his eyes for any trace of dishonesty.
“It doesn’t hurt at all. That poultice of yours is magical.” Joked Boromir.
Harry laughed with him, thinking about how right he was. Still smiling, the wizard looked into the eyes of the captain and let him bring him forward and settle him back into his lap.
Without giving a thought to his chests nakedness, he allowed him to surround him with his arms, settling his jaw on top of his head, and cuddled to him.
The cold started to make itself known and the youth, blushing, tried to pull away from the warrior to give him space to put on his shirt.
However, he staid still when Boromir raised a hand and caressed his cheek with fondness.
“I love it when you blush.” Muttered the man.
That, of course, made him blush harder.
Harry settled a hand on Boromir’s chest and caressed it, trying to distract himself enough to control the blush, not notincing the sensations his hand gave the warrior.
A strange sound escaped the man’s throat and the wizard looked up.
Emerald orbs crossed paths with intense eyes the colour of storms.
Without being conscious of anything but the closeness of their bodies, the emeralds descended to his companion’s lips and swallowed before licking his lips nervously.
Grey eyes full of desire followed the path of the pink appendage over the fleshy lips and the hand on the black-haired man’s back pushed him gently towards the captain until nothing but a few centimetres of air separated their bodies.
The hand that a few seconds previously rested on the youth’s cheek slid down to the back of his head and, for an instant, nothing happened, until the man bent towards him.
Those eye-catching green eyes surrounded by long dark lashes closed instinctively when their lips pressed together and his hands rose to bury in the captain’s dark hair.
Slowly, Boromir’s mouth started to move against his and Harry, feeling clumsy, tried to imitate the movements.
Harry wouldn’t be able to tell how much time passed before a tongue grazed his lips and run the same way his own tongue had followed before, asking for entrance.
The wizard opened his mouth a little, if in surprise or instinct, none knew, nor cared. Boromir’s tongue took the chance to enter his mouth, expertly exploring it.
A moan left his lips and the youth tugged lightly on the man’s hair with a hand whilst the other run down to rest on his still naked chest, to which Boromir answered pressing him harder against his body.
With insecure moves, Harry’s tongue started to caress the appendage in his mouth until he started to gain security.
His partner guided him back to his own mouth and, soon, they found themselves tangled in a dance in which Harry didn’t even try to gain the upper hand.
The kiss started to become more and more intense; Boromir’s hands run up and down his sides in a light move, lighting up his nerves.
Harry’s mind started to slow down and he began to be unable to think clearly.
It was that same realisation, the fact that he couldn’t think clearly, that shook him out of the trance. He was too used to needing to think clearly.
Harry broke the kiss and gasped. Feeling the proof of Boromir’s desire pressing against his thigh, he hid his head under his chin.
The captain breathed deeply, trying to think over the veil of desire that clouded his mind. With his chin resting on his beloved’s head, he closed his eyes and listened as their breathes slowly calmed down.
Finally, when it stopped looking as they had run ten miles non-stop, Harry looked up.
“I’m sorry. It wasn’t right on my part to do something like that without asking first.” Muttered Boromir seeing an indefinable emotion in his eyes.
“Don’t apologise.” Whispered Harry pressing their foreheads together. “I… I liked it. It’s just that I, ah… I don’t have… I don’t have much experience in these matters.”
Boromir let out a breath he’d been instinctively holding onto and realised what Harry felt was insecurity.
“Don’t worry, you were fantastic.” He comforted. “But if you still believe you need experience… I can take car of that.” He muttered seductively in a moment of mischief.
Harry blushed and held his breath in anticipation when Boromir leant forward and pressed their lips together in a chaste kiss, taking pleasure again in his sweet flavour.
The youth let out the breath he was holding in something more like a gasp than a breath and Boromir smiled widely.
“I’ll go… I’ll go ask for a bath to be drawn.” Muttered the flustered wizard leaving his lap.
With a satisfied smile still in his face, Boromir stood after him and put his shirt on, watching him leave the room in a hurry.
A few minutes later, the youth came back in, looking more calm and composed, and told him his bath would be ready in a few minutes.
Harry stayed still, letting Boromir draw closer and place a soft kiss on his forehead before muttering a promise to wait before starting on dinner.
Feeling the bad mood he’d been in since he’d had to leave and miss Harry for ten days vanish for good, Boromir walked to his rooms, conveniently close to the back-haired man’s, to enjoy a warm bath.
And to get rid of a certain pressing matter insistently bothering him inside his pants.
The promise of a good warm dinner in Harry’s company, however, was without a doubt what he was most looking forward to.