Boromir Aesir · @Boromir_Aesir
1st Mar 2014 from TwitLonger
Wishes-verse. After http://www.twitlonger.com/show/n_1s0js9n
Boromir is healing. Kélan takes care of him.
@Boromir_Aesir @Valandhir @SilmarilNaro
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Kélan
The small tower room had taken comfortable shape, something Kélan was pleased with, having devoted some time to turning the barren place into something habitable. Outside the tower the world sank deeper and deeper into the snow and the storms howled across the Eastern plains. In the passing three weeks Boromir's healing had progressed well, and with enough books to read, he had given the healers much less grief. The former temple library had held a number of interesting works, starting with the Chronicle of the Great Succession and ending with book on legion strategy. Kélan had been strangely touched by the latter, knowing who's words he was reading, but had brought it over nevertheless.
But those were mainly outside things, the much deeper pleasure the walls of the old tower held for Kélan was being with Boromir, being able to take care of him without having to hide his fondness for him. Being able to show that affection felt like a fire warmer than even the flames that burned inside the fireplace day and night to keep the winter's cold away.
Pushing the door of the tower open, Kélan slipped in and closed it at once, before taking off his cloak, which was covered in white. "And the Lord of Winter send his horses across the plains again," he said, with a smile. "another storm is headed our way, it will be here before nightfall." When he had heard, he had picked up a number of things, that would spare some poor soul the trip through the stormy night, to bring them to the Captain later.
Boromir
Boromir looks up at those words, a warm smile slipping across his face. He carefully marks the page in his current book at sets it aside, watching as Kélan strips off his snow-covered cloak and boots. Boromir's own state is improving, now allowed as he is to get up and move around. The injuries still ache sometimes, especially with the winter cold, but he feels far less bound by them.
Though of all the things he has had to keep from getting too depressed, to one thing to keep him in the best spirits is the company of this very Dwarf, Kélan. Boromir is still unsure how well he can share his heart, but it has seemed like Kélan does not mind settling into something much like they had before, only with a bit more open affection.
"I will brace myself for a noisy night then." The wind could be quite noisy around the tower they currently shared. "At least however we will be warm and safe from the cold."
Kélan
"Maybe there will be Wolves singing with the storm," Kélan replies with a smile, stowing away the things he brought before walking over to Boromir and sitting down in his now almost customary place on the side of the bed. "it's a cold out there, and it's going to be a wretched night."
Reaching out for Boromir's shoulder he draws him into a warm, if careful embrace. "And the good news is, that Ravin, the healer, gave me salve for your wounds along." It would spare the old healer trudging through the snows and cold, and he had been right, saying that Kélan had seen it done often enough to know what to do.
Boromir
Boromir returns the embrace, curling an arm around Kélan and drawing him in to recline next to him, where he can feel Kélan's whole frame. He strongly suspects that after so many years as a slave, Kélan will never have the sort of bulk Boromir has seen in healthy dwarves, but in the time he has been by Boromir's side, the painfully skinny figure has filled out to a healthier, if thin, state.
"If you are willing to apply it," He says to the comment about the salve, "I think I will be feeling very warm for the night."
Kélan
Kélan lies down beside Boromir, curling up close with him, draping one arm over his side, to draw them closer together. He knows that Boromir likes touch, closeness, the feel of them curled up together, it was what began their relationship in the first place. The sharing of warmth. Sometimes he wonders how deprived Boromir must have been of simple love, of affection of all those small things, the traces are there and Kélan cannot imagine what it must have meant to grow up in a cold, unloving house. For all the faults and tragedies of his former clan, they never had lacked love. His hand wanders up Boromir's back and gently touches the tawny hair. "I'll take care of the salve," he replies, "and I have no doubt we'll be warm this night." He tilts his just enough to give Boromir's brow a light kiss.
Boromir
Boromir's eye fall closed under that light kiss. Even kiss that is a blessing to him, after so long with such a feeling of hollowness in his life, to find he has someone he can care for, who cares for him. He turns to brush his own lips across Kélan's jaw in return. "Whatever you wish, Kélan, as long as you are here..."
Kélan
Kélan cups Boromir's cheek with his hand, his eyes warm when he holds the other man's gaze. "I am not going anywhere, Boromir." he promises softly. He has practically lived in the tower since Boromir invited him in, and while most of the troops have varying explanations, he has left them their imaginations. "my only plan is to make sure that you are comfortably snuggled away, when the storm hits us." He leans close for a very light kiss. "But I should see to your injuries first."
Boromir
Boromir nods, pulling at the loose tunic he wears. The worst of the injuries are to his lower chest and stomach area, with that final stab wound that almost killed him hitting just below his lung. He still has little idea how he managed to hold on after that, but he is thankful he could.
Kélan
The wounds vividly remind Kélan of that day out on the fields. Boromir came close to dying, very close... too close for Kélan to consider or remember. That last stab missed the lung by a hair, and even so it would have bled him out. He still remembers Boromir slowly fading away, feeling the life drain from his body. His own pleading with him... and his own knowing how useless pleading was.
Carefully he begins to apply the salve to the healing wounds, it will speed up the process of them healing fully and scarring smoothly. When he touches the stab wound, he somehow can feel the tingle, the small spark of flame again. When Kizár gave him the rock, he only barely understood what she had given him, that she had given him a little sister to protect. And she had saved Boromir.
Elennárë
Quiet, but always a warm presence in the back of Kélan's mind, Elennárë murmurs in soft wordless affection. Kélan is hers, so is Boromir. She is glad she was able to keep them both safe.
Boromir
When Kélan touches the wounds, there is something different to anyone else's touch. Kélan is gentle, yes, but something about it is warmer than anyone else, in a way Boromir cannot define. Knowing it is something that escapes his attempts to understand, Boromir lets himself be grateful that the healers have let Kélan take over such treatment, Kélan's fingers soothing sensitive new scar tissue and assuring Boromir of his continued life.
Kélan
Kélan smiles when he feels Elennárë's touch to his mind, the warmth spreading through him and her soft whisper. He physical form may be sitting on the other side of the room, near the narrow tower window, for he had the feeling she liked that spot, but her presence is with him, always.
He can feel how Boromir relaxes under his touch, and carefully continues with the scar on the belly and the one on the side. He cannot take the pains, the hurts, away, but he can try to give something else to the healing, some warmth, some affection, to maybe somehow add some other memories to those wounds. Inwardly he shakes his head, this sounds like the worst kind of nonsense, though he will admit he loves doing this, not just because he adores Boromir, loves touching the warm skin and feeling the powerful muscles underneath... he loves seeing how Boromir relaxes into the affection, how he seems to be able to give Boromir warmth.
When he is finished he packs the jar with the salve away. "You are healing well, not long and you'll be up and about again." he says with a smile.
Boromir
Boromir returns the smile with one of his own, relaxed as his after just that simple touch. "I do hope so," he replies as he absently tugs his tunic down. "Though until then..." He holds out an arm, inviting Kélan to come lay back down with him. "Tell me a little of how things are going out there?" While he is better now, the healer still insist Boromir take things easy, so much of the command of the army is delegated to his direct subordinates to manage.
Kélan
Kélan shrugs off the leather coat he wears above the tunic and lies down beside Boromir, one arm again wrapped around him. "The armies are well dug in for the winter," he replies. "the Easterlings have fallen back to Cymarkhan and give us no trouble. The loss of so many of their Elite, plus losing their prime Strategist... the young Emperor is probably re-thinking his tactics right now. Supplies are good, the surrounding two provinces quickly understood the change of state and surrendered. By spring most of the wounded will be healed and the fresh troops from the West should reach us too - they were at the Sea of Rhûn before the Winter came."
Boromir
"So we truly are in a waiting game..." Boromir murmurs as he settles in, drawing Kélan in close so he can nuzzle dark hair. "How is Dwalin anyway?" Since his wounding, Boromir has found out the Easterling's prime strategist is, in truth, someone Kélan knows from his life before the orcs. The older dwarf has, since finding Kélan, moved to stay by the younger dwarf, abandoning the East in his favour. Boromir has only briefly met Dwalin, and even in that short meeting, can see why he is a living legend to the Easterlings he was working for up until recently.
Kélan
Without truly noticing it, Kélan's arm closes tighter around Boromir. He is grateful that Boromir was willing to accept Dwalin's staying here, in spite of all the history. When he remembers how close he came to killing Dwalin... Kélan knows he'd have fired that arrow if he had to. "He... he is doing better since he met Veryan and they began to discuss troop training." A small smile comes up in his eyes. "I don't envy those troops who are fully fit and in his hands to train. Mr. Dwalin never believed in the gentle approach, he pushes you until you are that short of tears and then he reaches inside you and shows you how much more you can take." Kélan is glad Dwalin and Veryan met, it helps to distract Dwalin from his guilty feelings. "I am still working on convincing him, that what happened to me was not his fault. He did not know."
Boromir
"He cares about you, that much I have seen." The way Dwalin behaved that one meeting, it was like he viewed Kélan as a long lost treasure, to be guarded with his very life. From what Boromir did pick up, the two were related by blood, but how closely, he has not yet asked that either. "You at least have him back, one member of your family."
Kélan
"He does care, he has a bigger heart than he'd dare to admit." Kélan replies, though the comment on family, makes him avert his eyes for a moment. There are two more people to his family, one is a fiery stone, a little sister that he has come to like a lot during their time together, the other... the other is right beside him and probably shy of such a possessive expression. "Family is where the heart is." He whispers, drawing Boromir into a closer embrace. "You spent too much time worrying about me... I need to find a new way to distract you." He adds, looking up.
Boromir
Family is where the heart is. Kélan... Boromir still has issues at times with the subject of family, but thinking now of Kélan as such... it is a warming thought that makes his mind wander a little, thinking of the role in their family he would take.
"Oh? What sort of distraction would you have in mind then?" He responds with a small grin.
Kélan
That grin, that utterly self-assured grin, that says 'I know I'll win'... Kélan loves it, and not just because it is that side of Boromir that can take on the world and still come out on top. He stretches slightly and slips his other arm around him. "Maybe the one that has you stop *thinking* for a good while?" he teases, letting his hands slowly wander down the sides and up the back again.
Boromir
"I think..." Boromir's tone of voice turn a bit teasing as well, "I would not mind not thinking for a while..." He reaches to wind fingers into Kélan's hair, lightly massaging his scalp even as he pulls him into a kiss.
Kélan
There is something in that touch, the strong fingers finding purchase in his hair, that is utterly possessive and yet oh-so gentle that Kélan could easily melt into that caress. He responds hungrily to the kiss, playfully testing Boromir's lips, teasing his tongue.
Boromir
Boromir responds to that playfulness by taking gentle control, his own tongue delving, drawing out Kélan's to suck on, plunging in deeper to taste everything he may find in this, his beloved companion.
Kélan
Kélan opens up to the kiss, melting into it as Boromir takes control. His hands wander up the warrior's back, tracing muscles through the layer of the tunic, like writing patterns of passion into them. To his eye Boromir has the two best traits of his people, the strong, powerful build of a fighter and that almost cat like agility of his people, making him perfect and gorgeous. Kélan could not refrain from touching, from worshiping him.
Boromir
Kélan wanted him to stop thinking, and wonder of wonders if his touch can make Boromir stop thinking about anything but how good it feels to Kélan touching him, Kélan kissing him, Kélan in his arms, under his own hands as they slip under his clothing to run across warm skin.
Kélan
Kélan strains into the touch of the warm hands, the strong fingers on his skin sending pleasant shivers down his spine. He tugs away Boromir's tunic. He knows he has to be careful, mindful of the healing wounds, much as he'd love to caress and kiss every inch of the warm skin.
Boromir
Boromir gladly shrugs off the tunic, willing to let Kélan have all the access he wants. The only thing he seeks in return is to be able to caress in return. He needs to feel every piece of Kélan, caress it, wanting him to feel that same pleasure he is intent on showering on Boromir.
Kélan
Kélan sits up for long enough to pull off the tunic too. At first, when they had begun laying with each other, he had been shy to do so, something that Boromir's attention has cured him of. He uses the movement to shift slightly, and lean closer, to feather kisses down the soft skin of the neck, along the strong line of the shoulder and further down the chest. He could drown in simply worshiping Boromir, his perfect, wonderful warrior, and that he is able to do so wakes a warm flame inside Kélan.
Boromir
Boromir's arms curl around Kélan, wanting to keep him close, even when twinges of pain curtail some movements. When did he get so lucky to have Kélan's love? He whimpers under his beloved's attention, soft, needy pleas of of wordless desire.
Kélan
Boromir's arms, the strong arms holding him, they have become more than just a haven for Kélan, they have become the one place he wants to be, the one place he feels warm, protected... even loved. He still notices the painful constraints to the movement and gently nudges Boromir to lie back in a more restful position, while devoting his attention further to caressing and kissing the warm skin, slowly working his way down the chest and over the taut belly, playfully placing a kiss at it's lower end.
Boromir
Laying back in an easier position, his hands not leaving Kélan, caressing along shoulders and into his hair. Kélan's devotion has him caught in a state of growing need. As Kélan makes his way further downwards, it makes Boromir all the more aware of a demanding hardness Kélan is moving closer to.
Kélan
In moments like this Boromir is all *his* and when Kélan is honest with himself he is greedy for such moments. For the moments when he can and may give Boromir all the love and pleasure he is able to. His hand traces over the breeches which must feel tight by now, he is not shy in his caress, he likes knowing that he can make Boromir want like that. Slowly he unlaces the breeches to free up the hard erection, letting his fingers trace along the needy hardness appreciatively before licking the weeping head clean.
Boromir
The first time Kélan did something like this, Boromir had reacted badly, deeply upsetting his friend with his reaction. It took some time and talk to assuage Boromir that it is not demeaning for Kélan, that is allowed to enjoy this pleasure.
Now however... Kélan can do wonders to him with a simple lick, driving him mad with the following attention, more wonderful licks and swarm wet suckling... Bliss that can reduce him to a begging, moaning mess.
Kélan
Kélan takes it slow, wrapping his tongue around the base of the hard shaft and then following upwards with licks and kisses. The first time he tried to do this, Boromir had been ashamed... hurt, it had almost broken Kélan's heart when he realized that Boromir was less disgusted with the act in itself, but with the fact that his pleasure might demean Kélan. He had cared more for Kélan in that moment than for the pleasure he could have easily demanded as a matter of course. All the more Kélan does enjoy giving it to Boromir, to hear the small noises of need, of desire, to feel the growing fire in him.
When his tongue reaches the tip again he truly takes it into his mouth, first only suckling on it, before slowly going deeper, taking more and still using his tongue to add to the pleasure.
Boromir
The deeper Kélan takes him, the more Boromir cries in pleasure, his hips jerking in a need to respond. Fingers deep in Kélan's scalp flex and tighten, not pushing but reacting to Kélan's treatment. With how sensitive he is to all Kélan gives him, it does not take long before Boromir is coming with a deep groan.
Kélan
Kélan keeps milking Boromir of all there is, only letting go when the waves of the high are ebbing off. Looking up he licks his lips clean, with a smile like the proverbial cat that stole the equally proverbial cream. He smiles and comes to lie down beside his love, gently embracing him.
Boromir
A sated contentment steals over Boromir and as Kélan moves to embrace him, he turns to embrace him back, keeping him close and pressing warm soft kisses over his cheek. "Someone blessed me when they guided me to you, my love." He murmurs softly, almost at a whisper.
Kélan
Those words, two small words, their endearment could make Kélan's heart burst with love. His arm tightens around Boromir, snuggling closer, wanting to hold him, and never ever let go again. "I feel the same, a bright bright light came into my life on the very day we met."