2. The Bath
Boromir leaned against the bank of the river with closed eyes. 'This is glorious,' he thought again. 'I cannot remember the last time I just sat.' His eyes opened wide at a sudden exclamation.
"Dratted back! I cannot reach and I have such an itch!"
"Wait a moment," He turned Théodred so that the Rohir's back faced him. A small gasp escaped his lips.
"Nothing to be concerned about. Éomer ran for the fire during their last visit from Aldburg. I stopped him with my body, but the fire stopped me," the Rohir said simply. "It will heal in time. Having a three year old around the Hall was difficult, to say the least."
"It is healing well if that was..."
"This spring. I know it looks nasty, but it will heal. Though this interminable itch will drive me mad!"
Boromir sat back for a moment.
"If it bothers you, never mind the wash."
"Nay! I have not seen a wound like this before." He stumbled over his words.
Théodred laughed. "How many wounds have you seen?"
Bristling, Boromir turned away. "More than you probably have," he defended himself. "As heir, I was expected to volunteer in the Houses before I became squire. I have seen many wounds."
"Aye." Boromir swallowed.
"But you were only eleven?"
"Age does not matter when duty calls. It was part of my training. I became inured to it."
"You have not. I saw the shudder. It was bad?"
Boromir turned and found Théodred staring at him. "It was bad and I have already decided to fight for Faramir. I will not let him see such things at such a young age. I understand father's reasoning, but I do not agree." He balled his hands into fists.
"Does Faramir know what fortune fate has given him to have such a brother as you?"
Boromir smiled. "Nay. But one day, I will instruct him!" He laughed and Théodred touched him.
"Turn your back and let me wash it."
'It is the talk of the wounds that sends this shiver down my back, not Théodred's touch,' but he obeyed and turned his back. He felt the flush on his face. His whole body flinched as the cloth touched his back.
"You must relax if this is to be of any use. I am sorry I doubted your word about what you had seen. Is that what causes such tension?"
Boromir desperately tried to relax, but found his arms tingling. Théodred had dropped the cloth and was using his hands to gently massage Boromir's back. The sensation made Boromir's nipples rise and harden. He swallowed in surprise. The long fingers began moving down his back, gently massaging and stroking as they went. Boromir's nipples were not the only things that had hardened. "Enough!" he cried. "I am ticklish," he lied.
"Ah! Then I know what I can do to relieve this tension" He took a small bowl from their dinner plates, brought to the river to be washed at the same time as their bodies. He filled it with water and summarily dumped its contents over Boromir's hair.
The Gondorian gasped, but stayed still - out of necessity. He could not let Théodred see what had happened to his body. He still did not quite understand it himself. 'You would think I had kissed a girl?' he wondered.
He felt Théodred's hands on his hair. The smell of soap entered his nostrils and he sneezed.
"I am sorry. He offered the cloth to Boromir who wiped away the soap that had dripped down. However, the slight disturbance did not stop Théodred. He began to slowly massage the soap into Boromir's hair.
A feeling of total peace entered Boromir. He felt himself tingling and relaxing at the same time. His eyes fluttered. His breath shortened. His arms crawled with sensuous delight. A slight shiver shook him, but nothing stopped the erstwhile Rohir. Boromir found himself leaning back. He quickly moved forward. Théodred's nipples were hard! He could feel them! A sudden light kiss was placed on the back of his neck. He shuddered again. The hands never stopped moving. The feeling was bliss. His scalp tingled as the rest of his body squirmed with passion. The sides of his head, the top, the back, all felt the gentle, sensuous touch of Théodred. Boromir could sit straight no longer. Once again, he felt himself leaning against Théodred's chest. The nipples were still hard and peaked. Boromir almost cried in surprise and... delight.
Théodred poured more water over his hair and began to soap it again. "That is enough," Boromir tried to protest, but his friend did not stop. Once again, the hands gently massaged Boromir's head, washing every strand of hair and gently pulling them as he washed. Boromir had never felt anything quite so wondrous, nor erotic. A sudden shame filled him; he never had felt this way when his nanny washed his hair!
"Do not fight this, Boromir. I am sorry, but I have loved you since the first day I met you. I have wanted to serve you, hold you, love you for as long as I can remember. I only offer to wash your hair now, but someday, I hope to offer more...?"
Boromir laid further back. "Rinse it quickly," he whispered, his voice catching as he spoke. "I would do the same to you."
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.