Wishes-verse. After http://www.twitlonger.com/show/n_1s01n5g and after http://archiveofourown.org/works/942362 (where Kélan reaches Boromir and saves his life).

‏@Boromir_Aesir ‏@Valandhir
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Kélan

"Kélan, are you listening to me?" The voice Bran, the Master Blacksmith of the army got through to Kélan probably after he had not heard it the first time. Still using one hand to move the beam into the cone, Kélan came up under the structure. What was left of this Eastern city was a mess, or maybe it never had been good stone work to begin with. The last battle of autumn had been fought in the falling snows, Winter set in early on the plains of the East, and while the battle had gone well in the army's favour, destroying what was left of the Eastern armies, the troops were now forced to dig in and outwait the worst of the winter. Taking over the city as main camp for the armies was a smart move, most of the province had swiftly surrendered. By spring they'd know if they'd truly have to storm the Eastern capital or if there would be a surrender.

Ever since the events out on the snow plains, Kélan had put himself to work, it helped him not to think, to not ponder the events out there. He did not regret his actions, he would never regret them, but they came with some pangs of sadness either.

"I said it's enough for today." Bran shook his head. "Get some rest, Kélan. And... while you are at it..." he looked down on the dwarf with a nod. "do the healers the great favour and see that some food finds his way to the Captain, preferably without some poor healer getting kicked out of his quarters again?"

"Is he already recovered enough to give them grief?" Kélan asked, not taken aback. It was an open secret that Boromir hated being sick and hated healers with a passion, and he hated people fussing even more. And with Anarion being... more occupied with other things of late, Kélan had ended up being known as something of a 'friend' to the Captain.

He nodded. "Alright. I will see to it, Bran." Walking through the street of the camp, Kélan could see more snow whirling down on the land. He stopped at a large building that now served as the central provisions area, picking up food as promised and then went on towards the tower where the Captain's quarters lay. He hesitated for a moment, he had not seen Boromir since bringing him back to the healers... he shook his head, why was he tarrying? It was not like Boromir would remember the few rash words before he had passed out, or that little fight that had followed after.


Boromir

It was not that Boromir begrudged having to stay in bed while healing from injuries, it was that every healer to ever exist seemed to believe that even listening to and reading reports was too much work for him to do. Given that access to literature was a rare thing out on the forefront of a war, he did not even have the luxury of being able to ask for a book like he would have if he were stuck in the Houses of Healing in Minas Tirith. Aragorn (Boromir honestly still had a problem using his regnal name of Elessar outside formal situations, and Aragorn, it seemed, appreciated the informality if it) at least never minded having someone look up a book in the Citadel library so Boromir was not "tormenting the healers", as it had once been phrased.

Boromir sits, semi-reclined, absently picking loose hairs that stick out of the rough quality army blanket currently draped across him, wishing someone - *anyone* would bring something to distract him from the memory of a half-heard desperate plea that he is not sure was even truly spoken.


Kélan

Kélan carefully balances the large bowl of food on one hand, while pushing the door open with the other. Boromir's quarters are half lit by a fire, a simple necessity in these temperatures. Seeing the man already sitting up again, and seemingly strong enough to be annoyed, brings a smile to Kélan's eyes. "Someone remembered he forgot to bring you food," he keeps the greeting to the casual of the who-knows-how-many-times, Kélan did exactly that, bringing some food when Boromir had not send someone to fetch some for him.


Boromir

The familiar subtle jab is a welcome distraction for Boromir, drawing him away from his thoughts (about this very dwarf). He gives Kélan a smile that borders on a grin, shifting a bit to give Kélan some space. "At least people eventually do remember to bring food, I just wish the healer were not so adamant about keeping away all work that I cannot even read the occasional report to keep myself from getting totally bored."


Kélan

Kélan returns the grin, relieved that the friendship that grew between them, did not suffer from recent events. He carefully he places the wooden support and places the bowl with the food along with the bread on it. "Ravion is the one who is responsible for that temple library that was found when the army overtook the city. I am sure I can sneak over later and see that I liberate a few books for you. I seem to recall that you read the Eastern tongue quite well and there should be some of their war-chronicles of the past, or something like that." He offers, sitting down on that little space Boromir indicated.


Boromir

"That would be all too welcome!" Boromir responds, as he takes up the spoon and starts on the soup. "At least if it is somethign like that I have some grounds to argue with the healers that I am reading it for pure entertainment reasons and that I am not stressing myself out over work." It is quite the relief that Kélan understands a fair bit of his tastes. Boromir is not truly a reader of fictional writings, and even histories that favour more fanciful tellings of "great stories" leave him wondering about the logistics behind the tale. Maybe he is too much of an old soldier that he cannot withdraw from the soldier mindset.

Though it warms something deep within to have Kélan sitting close by.


Kélan

"Then I shall do that, right away," Kélan replies, he knows some books he will be looking for, most certainly, simply because they should be something Boromir finds an interesting read. He looks around the quarters swiftly. "Maybe one or two other things I could pick up on the way too - the army is digging in here, the way the winter is coming, I doubt we'll be moving out again for months." Dwalin always said the winters on the plains were long and harsh. It's a bit of a sad thought now.


Boromir

Boromir catches the glance around the room and is prompt to scrutinize it himself. "Certainly if we're going to be here for the winter, a bit more furnishing would not go too astray." He guesses at Kélan's thought. "Some decent rugs for a start, though I would think the best thing for winter is that we try to keep morale up, and that is best found in companionship..." Though his first thought on that is on the broad scale of the army, the matter of companionship also brings to mind the more personal line of thought. Could he make this a room for two? Would Kélan consider staying with him?


Kélan

"If you start making plans for the entire army, the healers *are* going to kick me out." Kélan's voice holds a slight teasing, though his eyes follow around the room and take in the suggestions. "Rugs shouldn't be a problem, some furs maybe too - the winters on the plains are bad, some furniture most certainly." A chair, to sit, once Boromir is recovered enough for that. "Though you are right - company is what keeps a long winter from becoming unbearable." Boromir's company is the main reason for Kélan to still be here, even after the King permitted his people to settle by the River Lune. It is this... friendship, that has kept him here and will keep him wherever Boromir's next campaign might lead.


Boromir

Boromir pauses in his eating, a thoughtful look on his face as he quietly studies Kélan. "What about you?" He asks. "Would you be looking for company to keep the cold away?" Up until that fight where Kélan saved his life, Boromir has told himself over and over again that this... *thing* with the dwarf is merely a relationship of convenience, built on Kélan's original agreement to act as a guide. Now however... in the last few days, with as little to do as he has had, he has come to think that maybe it is a bit warmer than his thought of "convenience" would give credit to.

What would really like to know is if Kélan would be pleased to venture beyond "convenience".


Kélan
"Your company? Always." There is a hint of a smile in Kélan's eyes, when Boromir asks him and his heart leaps a little at the thought. He knows that there is a line in their relationship, they are friends, friends who occasionally will share comfort, a relationship of convenience so to speak. Kélan has been careful to never cross that line, to not endanger what he might have safely with Boromir, though his heart is far more in it. He reaches out, lightly placing a hand on Boromir's wrist. "Your company would be more than welcome, for the long cold that lies ahead."


Boromir

Boromir moves to catch Kélan's hand in his own, softly stroking it with his thumb. "If there is one thing a near encounter with death can do, it is that makes one reconcider the value of *companionship*..." He murmurs, idly stiring around what is left of his soup. "And wonder if maybe it is more than just company one wants."


Kélan

Kélan's heart almost stops at those words, how long... how often has he very secretly hoped, that there might be more for them? And how often has he told himself to not get his hopes up, to not hope for things that cannot be? His fingers close more firmly around the other man's hand, tracing along the lines of sword-calloused fingers. They both have hard hands in a way. "Would you?" he asks softly. "Would you want... allow for more than just companionship?"


Boromir

"Kélan..." Boromir's spoon falls unheeded into the bowl as he leans in closer to his friend. "I do not know how well my heart can give love... not after a life where I have lost so much, but the one person I can see myself sharing what affection I can give... is currently sitting right here, at my side." He gently disentangles his fingers so he may slide his arm around Kélan in a gentle half-hug.


Kélan

Careful to not hurt his friend, Kélan's arm finds his way around Boromir's side to hug him back, to hold him. Sometimes he wonders how little love Boromir knew in his life, from what Kélan knows of his family, there was little enough, except for his brother - and the hurt of that loss might have been one too many. he deserves to be loved, to be cherished... yet most of his life was dictated by cold and by war. "Whatever affection your heart is willing to give, I will cherish, Boromir." he replies warmly, not letting go of their hug. "You have long had the affection of my heart." More than that, being allowed to love Boromir is more than he could have dreamed of.


Boromir

As broken and damaged as he feels his heart may be, being able to feel Kélan close like this warms something in Boromir he has felt has been far too cold for much too long in his life. "I will try... try be something more than the cold captain I have been..."


Kélan

Kélan draws Boromir closer to feather a kiss on his brow. "You never were that to me," he says softly. "you were that warrior... the one who cared, when no one else would. The one who made me laugh, when I didn't think I could still..." There is so much more to Boromir, so much more. "Just be yourself."


Boromir

"Be myself..." Boromir murmurs to himself. "I would think I need someone to remind me that being myself is all I need... and I cannot help think of all people you would be the one who could do that best." He cannot help but draw Kélan close so he can rest his forehead on Kélan's shoulder.


Kélan

With a smile Kélan wraps his other arm around Boromir, gently stroking the tawny hair, as he holds him. "Then I will do that..." he replies. "remind of being Boromir... just that, not the Captain, not the hero of more ballads than you can scoff at. Just you." He leans close enough to rest his cheek on the warm hair, cradling Boromir in his arms.

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