Chapter 4
Chapter 4
Boromir startled awake. What had woken him?
A whimper. Harry stirred in his arms.
With the little moonlight that came in through the window, he could see the youth was still asleep, despite the whimpers and moans that left his lips.
Harry was having a nightmare.
Carefully, the soldier raised the hand that had previously been wrapped around the wizard’s waist and settled it on his cheek.
“Harry.” He whispered trying to wake up the green-eyed man as calmly as possible.
“No…” his breathing picked up.
“Harry, wake up.”
“No… please, please. I’m sorry…” the youth’s words made something ache in his heart.
“Harry!” he insisted a little loudly.
The youth started to trash with more strength and Boromir was forced to restrain himself to stop him from hurting himself.
His eyes opened immediately and they fixed on the warrior, full of horror, pain and panic. And with no recognition towards him. The panic only heightened when he noticed he couldn’t move.
“Shhh… it’s alright, Harry, it’s alright. It’s me, it’s Boromir. You’re safe. It was just a nightmare.”
For a few minutes, the warrior simply rocked them, whispering in his ear calming sentences.
“Boromir?”
The insecure whisper of his name stopped him and, slowly, he started to release him.
“I’m here, Harry.”
The wizard hid his face in the man’s shoulder and the soldier felt the warmth of wet tears on his shirt. Softly, he run a hand over his back and waited till the young man run out of tears.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to wake you up.” Finally said the green-eyed boy.
Surprised, Boromir drew back from his little one to look him in the eyes. They were full of pain and his voice was so devoid of emotion that it was like an orc sword run through his heart.
“Don’t apologise for something like that, my love. Never. I love you and if I can do something to avoid you unnecessary pain, even if it is just to wake you up after a nightmare, I will do it more than gladly.”
The wizard’s eyes filled back up with tears that the seneschal’s son cleaned before they could run down his cheeks.
“Harry? Have I said something wrong?”
“No. No, of course not.”
Harry smiled weakly and raised a hand to softly caress the Man’s beautiful face.
“Do you want to tell me your nightmare?” asked the man in a low voice.
The youth bit his lower lip with enough strength that it began to bleed and Boromir used a finger to clean the drops of blood.
“We don’t have to talk about it now, Harry.”
“Do you mind if I turn on the light? I don’t want to talk about it in the dark.”
Surprised once more, Boromir heard a strange word and saw as the candles in the room lit up in a slightly blue light.
“I still can’t get used to that.” Commented Boromir.
“If you’d rather…”
“No. no, it’s fine. It’s just… unusual.”
Harry smiled and Boromir smiled back at him. The youth sighed and cuddled more into his side.
“I don’t know where to begin.”
“There’s no rush, Harry.”
The wizard sighed again and leaned his head on his chest.
“When I was a child I had no friends.” He started. “Until I turned eleven years old. That is when I discovered that I was a wizard and started to study in the oldest and most prestigious school of magic. And met the most marvellous friends anyone could wish for.”
Boromir couldn’t help feeling a bit jealous of the obvious love that his little one felt for those people.
“My best friends were called Ron and Hermione. Ron was the sixth child of seven and came from a poor magical family, for which he always wanted to get attention and was very jealous. But he was brave, a magnificent strategist and loyal to his people. Hermione was an only child, born of parents without magic. She was very intelligent, almost a genius, although very authoritative. She was also very brave and loyal.” Harry sighed, his eyes were lost in the past. “We were always together, so much so that people were surprised if they saw one of us without the others. They called us the Golden Trio.”
Boromir smiled tenderly, noticing the amusement in his voice.
“We were always getting into trouble. Then the war started. Ron and Hermione stayed by my side. A year before the war ended, as we celebrated a birth, we were attacked and captured with another one of our friends, Luna.” Boromir’s arms tightened around his waist, but he didn’t interrupt. “They tortured Hermione in front of us. They wanted me to give up. They knew if I did, the magical world would follow. They began to torture Luna when I refused. I remember Ron begged me to do what they asked. Hermione and Luna swore they wouldn’t forgive me if I did. I didn’t know what to do. Seeing me doubt, they killed Hermione. Ron lost his mind. They left her body in the cell for two days. When He returned, there was nothing left of the Ron I had known. He offered to bring Hermione back to life if he joined him, and Ron accepted. There is no magic that can return the dead to life, and Ron knew it, but he had gone too crazy to see the truth: that Hermione was gone and she’d never be back. They gave him a knife and told him she would be back with my death. When Ron had the knife pointed to my chest, Luna jumped in the middle of us and tore it from his hands before using it to cut his throat. Luna and I were rescued two hours later, but it was already too late for Ron and Hermione.”
Boromir kept silent for a few seconds, his arms firmly around his beloved’s waist. The Man saw through the feigned indifference of the wizard and he couldn’t help a dull pain in his chest at listening to his suffering.
“It wasn’t your fault.” Hearing his words, Harry looked up. “Their fate wasn’t in your hands. Your friend fought for her beliefs till death and your friend, in his madness, only achieved to dishonour her sacrifice. Your friend, Luna, did what was best for everyone.” Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Boromir stopped him with a finger to his lips. “Do you believe your friend would’ve ever forgiven himself for hurting you, Harry? Don’t you think if he hadn’t lost his mind he himself would’ve thanked you?”
Harry looked at him open mouthed. He’d never thought of it that way. Ron had always been a loyal friend and he would like to think Boromir was right, but the truth was that he’d never know.
The wizard swallowed and blinked to stop the tears from falling. The guilt was still too fresh in his heart and the pain too strong.
Boromir could see all that in his eyes and cuddled him to his chest before pressing a kiss to his forehead. Enveloped in his arms, the youth sobbed until sleep finally took him.
ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ
With one last look at the youth still sleeping in the bed, Boromir closed the door behind himself and found himself face to face with Faramir.
“Brother, what are you doing here?”
“I was looking for Harry. I thought he might like to take a stroll on the gardens. It’s a beautiful day.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible right now, Faramir. Harry is still asleep.”
“What were you doing in his chambers then?”
Boromir didn’t answer.
“We better not disturb Harry. He’s had a bad night and needs to rest.”
The Man was about to leave when Faramir’s hand on his shoulder stopped him.
“Boromir, people are already talking. Don’t give them a reason to do so anymore…”
“What are you talking about, little brother?” asked Boromir with a frown.
Faramir looked around, making sure nobody that could hear them was around.
“I know in the past you’ve had… relations with some women, but this is not acceptable. If you really are serious about Harry…”
“How dare you insinuate…!?”
“…then you must act accordingly. You may be my brother, but I won’t allow dishonour to fall upon him because of your lack of patience. Harry deserves better than that.”
Boromir’s face turned hard and his eyes fixed on his brother’s.
“There is no reason for you to worry, Faramir. I would never dishonour Harry in that way.”
“then you must be more careful. Or make a public engagement. As I’ve said, people are already speaking.”
Boromir nodded, trying to hide his fury at the previous accusations thrown his way.
“As soon as I convince Father to allow it, Harry and I…”
“Captain-General!”
Both of them turned in the direction of the voice to see a soldier hurriedly approaching.
“Lower your voice. Are you trying to wake up the dead?” ordered Boromir.
“I apologise, Captain-General. Your father demands your presence.”
Faramir sent a furtive glance to Harry’s chambers that Boromir noticed.
“Come back later, Faramir, and let him rest.”
With that said, Boromir and the soldier left.
ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ
“Have you already been to any of the city’s festivals, Harry?” asked Faramir that afternoon.
Harry finished unhorsing his mare and turned to the Man.
“No, not really. Why?”
Faramir watched him brush down the mare with a smile. Harry had taken a grear liking to that beautiful white horse that Faramir himself had gifted him.
“Soon the celebrations for the summer solstice will begin and Boromir always attends. I’m sure he would love it if you went with him.” suggested Faramir with some mischief.
“The last thing your brother needs now is for rumours about our relationship to spread. Especially with matters between you and your father being so tense, Faramir.”
“Oh, come on, rumours about Boromir’s mysterious love have already spread around the city.” Added the gondorian.
Harry frowned. That wasn’t what he’d expected, although maybe he should have, taking into account who Boromir was.
“I’m sure Boromir would appreciate your company. Let us worry about our father.”
“I will think about it.” Sighed Harry finally.
Faramir nodded, knowing that was the best he would get.
ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ
Harry caressed the steed’s side and sighed before looking up. His eyes found Boromir’s and the warrior read the concern in them.
“You need not worry, Harry. We’ll be back soon.”
The wizard nodded and managed to muster up a small smile. Boromir caressed his cheek tenderly and leaned down to place a sweet kiss on his lips.
The sound of a pair of horses approaching made Harry look over his shoulder to see Faramir and Arborn approach with their own horses.
“You need not worry, Harry; we’ll be fine.” Arborn assured him with a smile that Harry couldn’t return.
Arborn and Faramir would accompany Boromir and would be part of the group sent to retake a small village close to Mordor’s frontier that had been taken over by orcs. Tolan, following the orders of his Captain-General, would stay in Minas Tirith guarding Harry.
“Be careful. Don’t take unnecessary risks.” Begged the wizard.
“I will make sure these two think before acting, Harry.” Promised Faramir with a warm smile.
Harry smiled back at him and allowed Boromir to kiss him one last time before getting onto his horse.
“You still haven’t told me if you will come with me to the solstice celebrations, my angel.” Said the seneschal’s firstborn leaning down on his horse.
“Come back safe and whole and we’ll talk about it.” was the answer he received.
As he saw them get further away on their horses, Harry felt a shiver run up his spine. He had a bad feeling.
ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ
Harry run through the corridors, frankly grateful for his rooms being so close to Boromir’s own.
Tolan followed hurriedly, knowing nothing he could say would make him stop.
The warrior had gone in search of Harry with bad news. Boromir and his men had arrived back, but the Captain-General had been wounded in battle protecting his younger brother.
Harry felt his heart clench in his chest whilst different scenarios, each worst than the one before, crossed his mind at frightening speed.
It didn’t take them long to reach Boromir’s chambers, where they met with Faramir and Arborn. There were three more warriors nearby, but Harry only knew them from sight.
“Harry!”
Faramir had to hold him back by the shoulders to stop him from colliding with him and falling to the floor.
“How is he?” asked the youth looking him in the eyes with anxiety.
“The doctor is with him. We don’t have any news yet.”
“What happened?” asked Tolan calmly seeing as Harry looked incapable of saying anything at all.
“We finished off the orcs in one of the villages and we were taken by surprise by a pack of wargs. We lost several men in the fight, but we managed to put down the bastards. When we were piling up the bodies to burn them, one of the orc riders stood up and went for Faramir. He’d been feigning death. Boromir saw and went to help Faramir, but he was wounded. The orc sword went through his thigh.” Explained Arborn.
The wizard closed his eyes for a second and when he opened them again he saw the guilt the seneschal’s younger son tried to hide.
“It wasn’t your fault.”
“If I’d been more aware of my surroundings…”
“…mayhaps nothing would’ve changed. You couldn’t know the orc was simply feigning death and neither can you know if that would have changed anything. It wasn’t your fault, Faramir.”
Even though he still believed it to be his fault, Faramir couldn’t help feeling relieved that Harry didn’t blame him for it. Nevertheless, even though a small part of him would like to think he wouldn’t, he knew his father would.
The wizard looked in the direction of Boromir’s room when the sound of some cried reached them and Faramir had to hold him to stop him from running in that direction.
The young warrior felt his heart clench at the angst in the face of the dark-haired man.
The sound of steps made them look to the door just in time to see the seneschal, Denethor, enter accompanied by several guards.
The man barely sent a look his way before demanding to be informed of the state of his older son.
“The doctor is still inside, my lord Denethor.” Informed him Tolan in a calm voice.
Denethor looked at his younger son with scorn and nodded at the guard. Harry took Faramir’s hands between his and clenched them softly to show his support. It must’ve been horrible to be treated that way by your own father.
The gesture caught the man’s attention, who demanded to know who Harry was and why he was there.
“Father, let me introduce Harry…”
“What right does he have to be here?”
“Father, Harry is…”
“I know who he is.” Muttered the Man with more scorn than he had directed towards his son. “Which does not answer my question: why is he here?”
Faramir looked towards Harry in time to see him look down and gathered his courage for what he knew was about to come.
“Father, it’s Boromir’s wish that Harry…”
“Boromir’s wishes cannot be taken into account now. Beauty blinds him, he believes himself in love. But it’s no more than an illusion. An illusion you must not feed!”
Faramir was about to protest again when Harry squeezed his hand once more, silencing him.
“Please, my lord, I only wish to know that Boromir is alright.” Pleaded Harry with humility.
“Boromir will be fine. Do you doubt his strength?”
But before the seneschal could add anything else, the doctor arrived with news of his son’s health and the Man forgot his worries about Harry. Faramir did not.
Unfortunately, the news the doctor brought weren’t good at all. The wound inflicted by the warg rider’s sword was poisoned. Boromir suffered from a high fever and delirium. They feared that, if the fever didn’t lower soon, the warrior would not recover.
Harry was stunned upon hearing it. The fear of losing Boromir stopped him from reacting. It was as if he was dreaming, a dream in which he could not move or talk. The wizard barely noticed when Denethor, despite Faramir’s protests, ordered him to be taken away.
ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ
Tolan and Arborn, who remained unusually silent, observed their Captain’s great love with worry. The beautiful youth sat on a lounge in his room, his eyes lost. He hadn’t moved since they arrived and he had not reacted since they received news of Boromir’s state.
“I must see Boromir.”
The soldiers almost jumped at the sudden words before frowning.
“I’m afraid the seneschal won’t allow it, Harry.” Answered Arborn shaking his head.
“There must be a way.” Insisted Harry looking imploringly at them. “I can help.”
“Harry…”
“How?” asked Tolan in his usual calm voice.
“Tolan?” Arborn was looking at him with confusion.
The wizard hesitated. Boromir had made it clear a number of times what he thought of his magic. If Harry’s powers reached the seneschal’s ears, he would be used as a weapon. But if he did nothing, Boromir could die and that was something that Harry wouldn’t allow.
“I’m not supposed to speak about it.” He said with reticence. “Boromir didn’t want anyone to know…”
Arborn frowned at his answer.
“I’m afraid that’s not an option anymore in this situation we find ourselves at.”
“I know.”
ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ
“My lord Denethor, a servant just relayed that Captain Shrian is looking for you. He seems to have urgent news.”
Denethor scowled before rising from the extravagant chair he’d had brought to his son’s room. It better be urgent if it needed him to leave a delirium filled Boromir at such a late hour in the night.
He didn’t even bother sending a look towards his younger son, who was next to the window.
Arborn moved aside to let the seneschal and his guards leave the room. Faramir looked at him inquisitively, but he received no answer from the usually lively soldier.
As soon as the seneschal had left their sight, Tolan appeared accompanied by two soldiers that substituted the two at the doors to Boromir’s rooms. Tolan had been very careful when choosing them, knowing they needed trusty men that would not ask questions.
The soldiers closed the door, leaving themselves outside and leaving Tolan, Arborn and Faramir alone but for a feverish General.
“What’s happening? We didn’t expect Shrian back till at least one more week…”
“…which will probably be when he arrives.”
Faramir looked at them in silence, trying to understand what was going on.
“I don’t know exactly how much time we have, but we must act as though it is not much.”
“Yes, of course. Harry?”
“What are you…?”
Faramir released the air brusquely when Harry’s head suddenly appeared in the middle of the air. The youth’s eyes, however, did not leave the bed. Or, more exactly, the man laying there.
“What devilish evil is this?”
“It is not evil. It’s just magic, Faramir. And it can save your brother.” Answered Arborn. “Harry is an Istar.”
“Not an Istar, Arborn. Their magic is different from mine.” Answered Harry distractedly as he took off the silvery cloak and knelt besides the bed. “I’m just a wizard.”
“Different or not, isn’t that what an Istar is?”
“I guess so.” Harry looked up and his eyes met Faramir’s burning ones. “I can help. I know you have no reason to trust me after I hid this from you, but it was your brother’s wish that nobody know of my powers. Please, trust me just enough to save Boromir and I promise you will get an explanation.”
Faramir looked him in the eyes, pondering his choices. His brother was badly wounded, what harm could trying do? And he could understand the reason his powers should not be brought to light. His father would not hesitate to use him as a weapon to defend Gondor.
Looking Harry in the eyes, he knew he would’ve done the same in his place. And still would do it. If the existence of a wizard in the palace reached the seneschal’s ears… Denethor was known for his scorn towards magic and he hadn’t hesitated in trying to pass that hate on to his sons.
He would have been successful too, if not for the stories their mother told them when they were younger. Faramir didn’t remember much about her, since Finduilas had died when he was only five years old. Boromir was ten when she died and, some nights, he himself had told him those stories at bedtime. But that had been before he became a warrior.
If his father learned that Harry was a wizard, he would accuse him of having charmed his sons. However, whilst looking in the beautiful youth’s eyes, Faramir could only see the kindness, honesty and strange sadness so characteristic of his friend paired with a deep concern for his brother and he knew someone like that could never do as such.
“Do what you can.”
Harry nodded, relieved. His eyes went back to Boromir, who in his delirium had raised a hand in his direction. Harry took it between his own much smaller ones and felt the skin burning.
“First we need the fever to lower.”
“How? Nothing we have done till now works.”
The raven-haired youth felt around his neck for the mokeskin pouch he always wore. From there, he took out a box that he left on the floor before enlarging it.
Without bothering to look at their stupefied warrior’s faces, Harry opened the trunk’s compartment that he usually kept his potions at. In the pouch he only wore some very basic ones.
It didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for. A fever-lowering potion. Now he only had to get Boromir to drink it.
“Boromir, Boromir, can you hear me?” called Harry placing a hand on his cheek and the other on his forehead. “Boromir, you must drink this.”
A pair of feverish grey eyes opened, but there didn’t seem to be any recognition in them. The Man moved his lips, but no sound left them. Harry felt a dull pain in his heart, but tried to ignore it. It wasn’t the time for that.
“Boromir…”
“Let me help.” Muttered Faramir approaching.
Between the both of them, they managed to have the warrior drink the vial’s content before he started to cough. Rapidly, Arborn gave them a glass of water that Boromir drank with gusto.
“What was that?”
Harry looked up and his eyes found Faramir’s once more. To any other person, that question would be of no importance. However, to Harry, it meant a lot.
Faramir had trusted him, even without knowing what the vial held.
“it’s for the fever. Useful, but with a horrendous taste.” He explained placing a hand on the soldier’s forehead for a moment. “It’s already in effect.”
“So fast?” asked Faramir surprised.
The Captain copied the wizard and placed a hand on his older brother’s forehead. The fever was, indeed, lowering a little.
“Right, now the poison.” Muttered Harry to himself.
The wizard approached his trunk again and frowned. He didn’t know what the poison was made of and didn’t have time to study it. He only hoped what he was thinking of worked.
“Can you cure the poison?”
“I think so. If I can find… aha, here it is.”
Harry approached the bed again, but stopped when a pair of eyes the colour of storms fixed on him.
“Harry…” he whispered. “What’s happened? Where am I? The last thing I remember…”
But Harry looked to be paralysed and incapable of answering. His eyes did not stray from Boromir’s.
“You were wounded. You’re in the palace now. You had a very high fever and the doctor said you would not recover if it did not go down.” Said Faramir in the youth’s place.
“And what does he say now?”
“We don’t know. It’s Harry who managed to lower your fever.”
At that new bit of information, the warrior looked at the wizard inquisitively.
“I had to tell them what I can do. It was the only way I could see you.”
“Who knows?” asked the Man, worried.
“Only us.” Answered Arborn.
“Then it must continue this way. Nobody else must know of this. It’s too risky.”
“Do you take us for stupid, brother? We know what our father would do. None of us will say anything.”
Harry looked at Faramir in surprise. He hadn’t expected that, at least not before having explained where his powers came from.
On the other side, Faramir looked at the beautiful and surprised youth in those gorgeous green eyes and felt himself blushing before looking away and clearing his throat.
That seemed to shake the young wizard from his astonishment, because he soon approached Boromir’s bed again and placed a hand on his forehead.
“The fever is almost gone, but the poison still runs through your veins.” Harry showed him a small stone he held in his hand and gave it to him. “This should be enough to clear the poison.”
“It’s a stone.” Declared the Man rising weakly an eyebrow.
“It’s a bezoar. My people discovered that it could be used to heal most kinds of poison.”
“What do I have to do with it? Eat it?” joked Boromir.
“Your people?” asked Faramir at the same time.
“My people. I’ll explain later. And yes, you must swallow it.”
Harry couldn’t help thinking they looked agape like a fish out of the water.
ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ
“We must leave soon, Harry. They must not find you here.”
Harry raised his eyes at Arborn’s words before looking back at Boromir and moving a strand of hair from his eyes.
The warrior had refused to allow Harry to heal his wound, saying the doctor and everyone else would no doubt notice if it closed in a night. Because of that, Harry had only been able to clear the poison and apply a cream that would keep it from any infection for some hours.
The gondorian read the worry in his eyes and raised a hand to caress his cheek.
“I will be fine. Soon you’ll be able to come back, and this time you won’t have to hide. But right now you must leave.”
“I would feel better if you allowed me to heal you fully.”
“That’s not possible, Harry. It’s too dangerous.”
“But…”
“No!” Bormir’s face softened. “I will be fine in a couple of weeks. You said it yourself, Harry. Besides, you’ve given Faramir that cream to keep infection away.”
The youth sighed and hung his head in defeat. Arguing would be of no use and Boromir could be headstrong like no other.
Harry leaned down to place a soft kiss on the warrior’s forehead and started to rise when the man placed a hand on the back of his neck and brought him closer for a real kiss.
When they parted, a furious blush covered the youth’s cheeks. Boromir smiled, satisfied, and caressed his cheek with a finger.
“Tolan, Arborn, make sure my little angel reaches his rooms safely.” Ordered the Captain-General.
Harry sighed. Again, arguing would be of no use. The wizard rose with grace from the floor where he’d been kneeling and, reluctantly, walked to the door where the two soldiers waited to escort him to his rooms.
“Harry,” Boromir’s voice made him stop when they were about to leave. “does this mean you won’t come with me to the summer solstice?”
Harry turned towards the man and smiled at him so sweetly that Boromir felt his breath leave his chest.
“I will go with you wherever you want me to, Boromir.”
ΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩΩ
Harry run a hand down the front of his robe with nervousness as he waited. The robe had been a gift from Boromir. The cloth was thin and luxurious, a shining green that made the green of his own eyes stand out. He wore black pants, high boots and his hair undone.
The wizard gathered his cloak just as someone knocked on the door and breathed deeply before opening.
The youth smiled shyly at seeing Boromir. The handsome Man looked at him with eyes filled with love and bent down to kiss his hand before offering his arm out.
Harry took the offered arm and both of them walked towards the Citadel’s exit to the city, making sure not to walk too fast. After all, Boromir wasn’t completely recovered yet.
Soon, the White Tree, dry and lonely but for the guards of the Citadel who protected it, came into sight and Harry could not help stopping in front of it.
“Do you know the legend of the White Tree?” asked Boromir.
“No, but I would not mind hearing it.”
“The tree has not flowered in centuries and it is said, when a new King descendant from the ancient and noble kings occupies the throne, the White Tree will flower again and the kingdom of Gondor will prosper once more.”
“Do you believe in it?”
Boromir looked at the tree with an unusually pensive look. Finally, he shrugged.
“One can never be too sure, but it does sound like a legend. The kings of old were lost long ago.”
Harry nodded. Boromir smiled softly and caressed the hand resting on his own arm.
“Come on, the party must be about to start.”
Harry nodded once more and, with a last look towards the White Tree, they both left the Citadel.