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Exile (NC-17) 
Written by Alcardilmë19 February 2012 | 8769 words | Work in Progress
Chapter Eleven – Filled With Love
“Théodred?” Boromir moaned at the fire that coursed through his throat.
“I am here, Boromir. Let me remove the bandages. Your eyes should be better.”
Boromir felt his friend next to him. A gentle hand began to unwind the cloth. Boromir kept his eyes closed, fearful that sight would be denied him. Once again, despair flowed through him. Only proper if my sight is denied me. I am worthless.
“There. The swelling is down. The eyes look fine. I have diminished the light. Try to open them, my friend.”
Boromir shook his head. Tears streamed into his hair.
“Our leeches are as good as Gondor’s healers, Boromir. Mine promises me your sight will return. Open your eyes and let us find how much you can see.”
Théodred’s request was so filled with love that Boromir obeyed. They light stung and his eyes closed of their own volition.
“One more time. I have closed the tent flap. There is no light in the tent. Please, Boromir?”
Again, he opened his eyes. There was no pain, though a thin film kept parts of his eyelids stuck together.
“Give me but a moment.” Théodred wiped them with a warm, wet cloth. “I am sorry for my ill treatment of you. I have made mistakes. Please try again.”
Tears slid down the sides of Boromir’s face. “Ill treatment. I have only received the gentlest of care from you, Théodred. My guilt is more than you can know.”
“Sh, fair prince. Tell me what you see.”
“I see my dear friend.” His brow knotted. “You look terrible.”
Théodred laughed. “I have not slept since we found you.”
“How long?”
“Two days and three nights.”
“You saw… everything?” Boromir turned his face away.
“Everything that I love.” The young man kissed Boromir’s forehead.
Boromir cringed.
“Boromir,” Théodred cried. “The torture you endured. Will it keep us apart? Damned be the Rógin3. I care not what they did to you. I love you. Do not turn from me.”
“Théodred,” Boromir croaked, “I am unclean.”
“And I have cleansed your body. When you are healed, I will cleanse you from the inside out. Oh, Boromir. My love will overcome this. You will see.”
Boromir moaned. “Please leave me, Théodred. I must needs rest.”
Théodred choked. “I will obey for now, Boromir. But I will not leave you long. On the morrow, I will return and we will speak of your trials. Then, we will speak of our love. I know you love me, Boromir. I know you do.”
Boromir closed his eyes. He heard Théodred sigh and leave. Sobs shook him.
After a time, he slept. When he woke, he could see that dawn was near. The flap was up and a guard stood next to it. “Théodred,” he whispered. “You make this so hard for me. You cannot love me. Not after what I have done. I must leave.” He slid his legs from the cot. His head spun before he was halfway sitting. He fell back against the pillow. “One moment’s rest, then I will try again.” And again he tried and again his head spun so violently he retched. Nothing came up but bile. He spat it out and fell back. “I can do this.”
When next he woke, the sun shone into the tent. A steaming bowl of porridge sat next to his cot. He sobbed. “I have lost the moment. Tonight. I will give myself the day for healing and tonight I will leave.”
“If you do, I will leave with you.”
Théodred’s outline blocked the opening. Boromir’s eyes stung with tears.
3 The actual name for the Drúedain used in Rohan was rógin, and a single Wose would have been known there as a róg. http://www.glyphweb.com/arda/r/rogin.html Encyclopedia of Arda.
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Very interesting beginning! Please, continue!
— Anastassiya Monday 12 July 2010, 6:13 #