A story collection featuring Aragorn, Legolas, Thranduil, and Boromir so far. There will be lots of hurt/comfort, sweet romance, humor and a pinch of angst!
Pairings:
1. Aragorn x You
2. Legolas x You
3. Thranduil x You
4. Boromir x You
The reader c...
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4. Stranger of the Falls (Boromir) – Part 4 (7): Convalescence
From then on, Lord Främling steadily improved. It was as if when he agreed not to starve himself, he also decided to get well as soon as possible. Already the next day he was sitting up, propped against a pillow, and spent every waking moment exercising his legs, arms, hands and fingers, stretching and lifting them without respite, forcing the unwilling limbs to cooperate. Especially his weaker side.
One of the first things he wanted to do, apart from eating without being spoon fed, was to get rid of the bedpan and use a cane to limp to the outhouse. The first time he nearly fainted, and when you had to help him back he looked so mortified you thought he was going to hide under the blanket in shame.
But he did not, insead he resumed his exercises with renewed frenzy.
The arrow wounds began to heal, and so did the gash in his forehead. It would leave a scar, but his long hair covered most of it.
His left side was soon almost back to normal mobility and strength, but his right side was far behind. He explained it felt like he was a baby learning to walk for the first time, as if his right limbs had forgotten how to do things.
His speech became clear and he no longer slurred on the words, but he still did not say much. You thought that he probably had been a quiet person even before the accident.
Instead of talking he worked out, limped around the room, did pushups, practiced fine motor skills. He mended his shirt and tunic, painstakingly sewing neat hems and pulling up the thread to start over whenever he wasn't satisfied.
When he was done you could hardly see where the rift had been.
The pure doggedness he demonstrated was both impressive and a bit frightening. Was he in such a hurry to heal because he wanted to be released from your care so he could end his life? You wanted to ask him, but did not know how to bring it up.
Your house was too small for an extra bed, so he still shared yours. At least it was wide and comfortable, and it was easy to get used to the added warmth of an extra person. Though spring was on its way, nights were still cold.
One night you decided to be blunt and just ask what was on your mind, using humor to make it seem less serious. "So... It is true we agreed that as soon as you are healed, you are free to choose death, but how will you go about it?"
Unsurprisingly he appeared a bit baffled over your choice of topic. "Pardon?"
"Will you fall on a sword, perhaps? It could be just like Túrin in the legend..."
"Too untidy. Very rude to whomever found my corpse."
You smiled, relieved that he had replied, and in the same flippant tone. "I forget what a gentleman you are."
