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Bathing Boromir

The Characters are the property of the Tolkien estate

Written for the "There and Back" challenge.

With grateful thanks to Raksha


Room Service

“Your towels, sir,”

“Bring them in.”

Somewhat timidly, the maid entered.

Boromir, lounging in the largest tub the inn could provide, seemed unperturbed by her presence.

The girl knew she should avert her eyes, yet could not help but steal a glance at the firmly muscled chest and broad shoulders of the Steward’s heir.

“Hand me one, please.”

She did so, turning to leave as he rose from the water, oddly reluctant to do so.

“Your supper is being prepared, my lord,” she said.

He smiled at her. “Why not stay and eat with me?”

Blushing, she nodded her assent.

Last Service

Aragorn gazed sadly at his fallen comrade. They had not been close friends. Many had been the disagreements between them. How could it be otherwise for two great warriors, born to lead Gondor when only one could rule?

Yet Aragorn’s grief was sincere. He had respected Boromir’s courage and prowess. He remembered him as a babe in arms, the darling of his proud parents.

Aragorn tore a strip from his shirt and soaked it in the river. With it he gently bathed the dead man’s face, washing away the blood and grime.

It was the last service he could render.


A/N You can see an illustrated version of these drabbles on my site at


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