#Black Horse Vital honey

[adil3]

Black Horse Vital Honey Kashmoor - 03056059435

[second-day]

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Black Horse Vital Honey Price In Pakistan - Quickon.pk

Black Horse Vital Honey Price In Pakistan is a premium dietary supplement known for its blend of natural ingredients aimed at enhancing male vitality and sexual performance. This honey-based product combines traditional herbs and nutrients to support overall health, energy levels, and sexual function.

What Is Black Horse Vital Honey?

Black Horse Vital Honey is a product marketed for sexual enhancement in men. It typically comes in individual packets and is advertised to contain a blend of ingredients like honey, royal jelly, bee pollen, and herbs.

How Does Work Black Horse Vital Honey?

Black Horse Vital Honey Price In Pakistan is a natural supplement known for enhancing energy, stamina, and overall vitality. It combines pure honey with various herbal ingredients like Tongkat Ali, Ginseng, and Maca root. These herbs are traditionally used to boost sexual performance, improve blood circulation, and enhance physical endurance. The honey acts as a carrier, making the herbal components more bioavailable and providing a quick source of natural sugars for an immediate energy boost. Regular use is believed to help improve libido, reduce fatigue, and support overall well-being.

Black Horse Vital Honey Ingredients:

93% Pure Honey

3% Radix Eurycoma Longifolia (Tongkat Ali)

2% Radix Panax Ginseng

2% Royal Jelly

Black Horse Vital Honey Benefits:

Enhanced Libido: The combination of Tongkat Ali and ginseng helps increase sexual desire and performance.

Improved Energy and Stamina: Ingredients like ginseng and royal jelly provide a boost in energy, helping to reduce fatigue.

Overall Vitality: Regular use can improve general health and well-being due to the nutrient-rich composition.

Black Horse Vital Honey Usage:

Dosage: Typically consumed in small amounts, such as one sachet, depending on the product's specific instructions.

Consumption: Can be taken directly or mixed into beverages like tea or smoothies.

Take one sachet of Black Horse Vital Honey mixed in a cup of water or juice two hours after eating or on an empty stomach. It generally takes effect within 30 minutes. Use one sachet every three days.

Black Horse Vital Honey Conclusion:

Black Horse Vital Honey is a well-regarded supplement for those seeking to enhance their sexual health, boost energy, and improve overall vitality. Its blend of natural ingredients makes it a popular choice among men looking for a holistic approach to maintaining their health and performance. 

Black Horse Vital Honey Availability:

Black Horse Vital Honey is commonly available On Quickon.pk: Largest Online Shopping Platform in Pakistan. It is often sold in sachets for convenient consumption.

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[ebaytelemart784]

Black Horse Vital Honey Price in Pakistan, FDA Approved, Reviews, Benefits 03055997199

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Black Horse Vital Honey is a powerful aphrodisiac in Pakistan. It allows you to treat desire, sexual energy, libido, erectile dysfunction, impotence, infertility and premature ejaculation. This aphrodisiac contains a blend of pure honey, royal jelly, bee pollen and herbs from the rainforest.

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extra black horse vital honey

Consume one cup every 3 days or as needed Main Effects of Black Horse: Increases sexual response and sperm quality Provides energy to the body Improves sperm count Improves fertility Improves blood circulation Regains sexual energy, desire, libido. Treat erectile dysfunction. Manage impotence. Treat premature ejaculation. Supports a healthy immune system Builds a better muscular body Reduces fatigue

Black Horse Main Honey Ingredients:black horse vital honey reviewSALE BEST PRICE IN ONLINE Ebaytelemart.pk WEB Store

1-Pure Honey 93%

2-Radix Eurycoma longifolia 3%

3-Radix Panax Ginseng 2%

4-Royal Jelly 2%

Key Benefits of Black Horse Honey:black horse vital honey ingredientsSALE BEST PRICE IN ONLINE Ebaytelemart.pk WEB Store

Sexual stimulation - Royal honey is an all-natural way to stimulate sexual appetite and create desire between partners.

Endurance - Strengthens the penis without feeling tired.

Confidence – Increased sexual performance leads to greater overall confidence with each session of love making.

Hormonal Enhancement – ​​Along with stimulating physical desire, royal honey also boosts the body's natural testosterone levels.

Reproductive Health – Being a product of nature, royal honey contains nutrients that reduce the risk of prostate disease and other conditions of the reproductive system.

Top Features:SALE BEST PRICE IN ONLINE Ebaytelemart.pk WEB Store

Brand: Royal Honey

Imported from: Made in Malaysia.

Size: 24 sachets – 10 g

[spanishgoldflyinpakistan]

(Tele Zoon)

[powerhorseroyal]

Black Horse Vital Honey Benefits & ( Use ) | 03006830984 | in Sheikhupura

Black Horse Vital Honey Benefits & ( Use ) | 03006830984 | in Sheikhupura

[marsprincess889]

Basic themes of nakshatras

May edit this later, this is as far as I understand and have observed them, and I think it's pretty nice to see them simply.

Ashwini:

Newness, freshness, the unmanifest, speed, energy, vitality, instinct, healing, fast healing, unlimited energy, self-expression, selfishness, blocking outside noise, trusting yourself, self-empowerment, unfiltered actions.

Things that remind me of Ashwini: bees, the sun, horses, two white horses, golden deserts, horses gallopping, honey, long hair flying in the wind, apples.

Bharani:

Love, death, sex, the female, the feminine, limitations, the material, fate, destiny, coming into the body, struggling against limitations, struggling against fate, mind trapped in its own hell because of the inevitable, dealing with the harshness of life, harshness of mothers and mother nature, the hierarchy, privileges and deprivations, desire, going after your true desire, the immortality of the soul, adapting to changes, passion, tragic love, bravery, facing the truth, choicelessness, nessecity, revenge, violence, gatekeeping, reduction, denial of access, conquering your fate, everlasting beauty, immortality, eternal love.

Things that remind me of Bharani: hot pink and black, darkness, roses, the yoni, gateways, keyholes, caverns, boats, rivers, the damsel in distress, fantasy, high fantasy.

Krittika:

Adam, the main character, naming things, language, rationality, precision, sharpness, criticism, the poet, the "it" person, simplicity, cleanliness, expressing oneself, selectivity, the heat, the knowledge, the light, masculine ideals, stoicism.

Things that remind me of Krittika: knives, razors, lighers, sparks, fire, hearth, cooking.

Rohini:

Eve, sugar babies, growth, receptivity, enjoyment, pleasure, unrefined, doted on, subconcious, absorbtion, sharing, union, creation, the youngest daughter, naivete, feeling no shame.

Things that remind me of Rohini: sugar, stickiness, sweetness, heaviness, red, pink, flowers, the A.I(lol).

Mrigashira:

Distraction, realization, fickleness, adventure, running away, chasing, the hunt, excitement, softness, pleasure, altering conciousness, magic substances(iykwim), curiosity, fulfillment, insatiability, teasing.

Things that remind me of Mrigashira: silver threads, deer, green forests, green and blue, running in the woods, alcohol, the moon, Shakespeare's "A Midsummer Night's Dream".

Ardra:

Disillusion, crying, lamenting, awareness of others, awarness of other's expectations, hyper-awarness of everything, intellect, the rational mind, pressures from society, rebelling against society, anxiety, hunting.

Things that remind me of Ardra: tears, water, storms, technology, teenage angst, emo culture, the rain, sad songs, dogs.

Punarvasu:

Mercy, forgiveness, permission, freedom, flying, expansion, gentleness, regrowing, realigning, returning, home, unconditional love and nurture, celebration, peace, peacefulness, centering oneself, sunlight, warmth, fostering, taking care, being taken care of, luck, unlimited fertile space, shelter, genuine kindness, believing in humanity again, cycles, patterns, seeing the cycles and the patterns, prophecies, the oracle, openness, second (and third, fouth...) chances, a comeback.

Things that remind me of Punarvasu: staying at home, pets, plants, cats, gentle rain, a bow and arrows, a target.

Pushya:

Asceticism, routines, self-restraint, servitude, control, self-control, working, working on yourself, patience, simplicity, striving for perfection, nurturing, nourishment, quiet ambition, symmetry.

Things that remind me of Pushya: milk, milkmaids, country life, milking, symmetry, goats, sheep, agriculture.

Ashlesha:

Manipulation, abuse, poison, emotional abuse, blackmail, resorting to everything for safety, protection, pent up energy, the nervous system, purity, water, sensitivity, cleanliness, energetic build-up, tension, restraint, preservation, self-preservation, virginity, feminine tactics, being "mean" for protection, lying for safety, sensuality, mother issues, agitation.

Things that remind me of Ashlesha: the color white, transparent things, cats, poisoning, snow white, Sofia Coppola films, teenage girlhood, ties, strings, knots, snakes.

Magha:

Royalty, power, ancestry, family trees, history, the past, regality, honoring the past, honoring the elders, honoring the authority, religion, tradition, customs, confidence, ego.

Things that remind me of Magha: crowns, thrones, churches, goth culture, smoke, big hair(like the lion's mane).

Purva Phalguni:

Pleasure, enjoyment, being spoiled as the feminine, loving to spoil as the masculine, procreation, sex, leisure, art, holidays, parties, exclusivity, pride, charisma, sexual dispersion, love as a method of self-expression, admiration, directness, active pursuit of your passions, indulgence.

Things that remind me of Purva Phalguni: fruits, eating fruits topless, rose gold color, the "rizz"(lol), the phallus, dramaticism.

Uttara Phalguni:

Favors from friends, family and partners, contracts, beneficial agreements, the perfect wife, likeability, popularity, friendliness, appearing cool, stoicism, beneficial arrangements, gain through partnerships, self-expression through relationships, wife/girlrfiend material, harvest, family associations, marriage associations.

Things that remind me of Uttara Phalguni: the "chads", simplicity, genuine friends, loyal companions, family business, the perfect male stereotype, the "rich heiress running away" trope, wheat, gold, power couples.

Hasta:

The earth, the veiled feminine, manipulation, denial of access, materialism, cheating, everyday matters, empowerment of women, deception, skill, seeking knowledge, wanting to be in control, activism, street-smarts, manipulation of masses.

Things that remind me of Hasta: the hand, Goddess Persephone, skilled hands, thieves, easy money, fairies, witches, scammers.

Chitra:

Crafting, building, perspective, truth, law, gems, sacrifice for your craft, vanity, stereotypes, aesthetics, the truth in stereotypes, building based on the law and the truth, the surface of things, the appearance of things, the substance reflected in the vessel, gossip, cliques, tricks.

Things that remind me of Chitra: the god Hephestos, martian gods in general, jewelry, fashion, make-up, drama, pettiness, the coquette aesthetic, pranksters, Olivia Rodrigo(ig).

Swati:

Space, the cosmos, shifting realities, love, rebellion, alternate realities, possibilities, seeing beauty in everything, inspiration, art, the cosmic egg, creation of the world, creation of worlds, microcosm and macrocosm, freedom through love.

Things that remind me of Swati: video games, the wind, plants beggining to sprout, the sword, technology, the Sims.

Vishakha:

The lightning, snapping, splitting, joining opposites, compromise, marriage, repressed anger, repressed aggression, alter egos, passion, enthusiasm, standing up for yourself and others, repression and then expression, energy, love and hate.

Things that remind me of Vishakha: lighning bolts, Zeus, Thor and other lighning gods, superhero "Shazam", celebrations.

Anuradha:

Friendship, devotion, depth, loyalty, unconditional loyalty, bonds, the occult, sex with love, numbers, gatherings, friend groups, groups, gentleness, humbleness, discipline, seriousness, organizing society, social groups.

Things that remind me of Anuradha: the color burgundy, dim lights, bunnies, "Sex Education" (tv show), sci-fi (for some reason), "The Vampire Diaries" (and very similar teen shows), frat boys, cheerleaders.

Jyeshta:

The battlefield, war, hunger, thirst, insatiability, conquering, the underdog, street-smarts, competition, strategy, extreme independence, mind games, the art of war, survival, ruling, rising above, self-reliance, wisdom, becoming the authority, the eldest, dryness, trust issues, enemies, destroying enemies, outsmarting all enemies.

Things that remind me of Jyeshta: grandmothers, owls, eagles, dry places, flags, marching, chess.

Mula:

Horror, the abnormal, the truth, the core, the center, the absorbing darkness, the black hole, the roots, violence against falsehoods, seeking the truth, seeking the cause, seeking roots, uprooting, chaos, from chaos to order, the unchanging truth, taming beasts, holding to your truth.

Things that remind me of Mula: "Phanton of the Opera", "Twilight", final girls, horror movies, dark murky green, the wilderness.

Purva Ashadha:

Art, beauty, alliances, artistry, ideals, fighting for the ideal, discrimination, exclusivity, philosophies about beauty and art, passion for love and art, attachments, secrecy, luxury, vitality, vigor, going for victory.

Things that remind me of Purva Ashadha: the sea, seafoam, goddess Aphrodite, seashells, mermaids, sirens, fans (the ones you hold in your hand lol), Arwen from LotR.

Uttara Ashadha:

Victory, loneliness, individuality, government, empowerment, independence, being looked up to, composed self-expression, ease, simplicity but regality, confidence, self-assuredness, melancholy and hardships of aloneness but contentment, stoicism, invincibility, unapologetic behavior.

Things that remind me of Uttara Ashadha: earnest people, goddess Nike, mint color for some reason.

Shravana:

Connecting everything, secret knowledge, interest in everything, reading between the lines, subconcious access, extreme sensitivity, holding the humanity together, secret agencies, percieving what others can't percieve, saving humanity, navigating, receptivity, mysticism.

Things that remind me of Shravana: Superman, Geralt of Rivia, Aragorn, King arthur, pathways, footprints, ear, color blue, spies, astrology, outcasts, fringe societies.

Dhanishta:

Celebration, celebrities, fame, visibility, aggression, agitation, action, bringing people together, idols, propaganda, wealth from fame, that which attracts attention, public image, benefits and downsides of fame, openness and flashiness, branding, movement.

Things that remind me of Dhanishta: supermodels, Princess Diana, dancing, rhythmic drums.

Shatabhisha:

Complexities, seeing everything, lurking in shadows, holding the knowledge, secrets, secrecy, hiding, technology, innovation, being ahead of your time, advising but manipulating, society, the collective, trends, the conciousness of masses, propaganda.

Things that remind me of Shatabhisha: midnight sky, stars, the seas, water reservoirs, the circle, the all-seeing eye of Sauron(lol), Lord of the Rings, rings, the movie "Stardust" (the book too), the evil advisor/black cardinal trope.

Purva Bhadrapada:

Notoriety, expansion, uncontrolled expansion, persmissiveness, growth to ruin unless restrained, fighting for your soul, the scapegoat, going against society, getting tested, the point of no return.

Things that remind me of Purva Bhadrapada: gangs, famous criminals, laziness, femme fatales, the grotesque, deserts, werewolves, the black sheep.

Uttara Bhadrapada:

Finding grace, hardships, working, inner strength, steeliness, resilience, patience, restraint, contol, self-restraint and self-control, bravery, honesty, stubbornness, fighting for your truth, perfect control, freedom through limitations, seeking a permanent foundation built on truth, working for the foundation, long-term goals, innocence, purity of soul, stillness, refinement, honor and glory.

Things that remind me of Uttara Bhadrapada: butterflies, clouds, baby blue color, Cinderella, warriors, knights, knight orders, ice, coldness, queens, ice-queen, dragons, water dragons, deep waters, deep sea and its creatures, wings.

Revati:

Ultimate freedom, creativity, wisdom, gentleness, compassion, guiding, herding, fun, laughter, mischief, lightnness, ease, finding peace, reaching the end, enjoying what you have, contentment, nurturing, open-mindedness, conclusions, gratefulness, freedom and free will, having choices, diversity, finding the truth, true wealth, parenthood, the guide, guidance, individuation.

Things that remind me of Revati: shepherds, herding, everything easy and light, the tricksters, the fool, jokes, Loki, The Joker, fish, comedy, the movie "A Fish Called Wanda", caring for everyone and everything, light and soft shades of green and blue.

[getaandlucius]

A brief taste of honey (A Geta love story)

Summary: Geta is still heavily injured and struggles to recover. Lucius takes care of him.

Please let me know if you want another part! Love writing these!

No warnings, only a little angsty and fluff!

The cold stone pressed into Lucius' bare knees, but he was barely aware of it as he stared at Geta's sleeping face. The line between Geta's brows had finally disappeared, and his features had relaxed slightly—a sign that the devil's breath and opium were doing their work. Geta's left hand remained in his, resting on the sheet. Lucius bent forward and lightly pressed his lips to the smooth skin of his wrist, where he could feel the pulse beating rapidly.

A soft voice interrupted his thoughts. “Your breakfast, dominus.” A woman with long black hair and gray eyes placed a plate of food on the bedside table.

“Thank you, Ditta,” Lucius said with a nod, barely glancing at it.

"You don’t look good, Lucius," the young woman said. She pulled a small table closer to him. "Eat."

Only when he smelled the food up close did he realize how hungry he actually was, and he began eating like a man starved. After finishing the bread, cheese, and fruit, he wiped his hands on a linen napkin and stood to feel Geta's forehead one more time.

Warm like stone in the sun.

He rubbed his neck. There was no point in willing Geta to health by staring at him in his sleep.

Instead, Lucius decided to visit the fighting grounds to spar with his usual partner. As he worked himself into a sweat under the warm spring sun, he made a mental note to assign Geta a fighting master to teach him how to defend himself.

Or perhaps he could train him personally.

After the training session, he mounted his horse and traveled to Ostia with his trusted adviser Marcus to convene an emergency council. Reports suggested that the Pythians were moving southward faster than expected, threatening Rome’s vital trade routes. Lucius knew this meant he would soon have to go into battle. It hurt to think of leaving Geta behind for at least a couple of weeks. But he sensed his men needed a leader—a replacement was not an option. He understood that well.

When Lucius returned to the infirmary, Geta was still asleep, or perhaps asleep again. Lucius left him and went to his own sleeping quarters, afraid of his own intensity when he was around him.

Needless to say, he slept terribly.

---

Three days passed. On the third day, Geta was awake and sitting up slightly.

“Hey,” Lucius said softly as he entered the infirmary. It was early afternoon, and the room was busier than usual. Ravi and Pius were accompanied by three other healers, tending to a new wave of injured soldiers.

Geta looked up as Lucius approached. He wasn’t smiling; he simply watched him, calculating.

“Something wrong?” Lucius asked.

Geta shook his head. “No.”

“Okay.” Lucius smiled and reached for his hand. He gently played with Geta’s fingers, stroking his thumb over the knuckles and down to his wrist. Geta’s gaze fixed on their hands, his expression tense. Then he looked up into Lucius’ eyes. Geta’s expression was unreadable, his regained strength used to close himself off again.

Lucius pulled his hand back slowly, his smile fading a bit. It was hard to be comforting when Geta was like this—distant and locked away in his mind. A clear pattern was emerging: moments of intimacy and vulnerability, followed by Geta shutting himself off. Lucius tried to suppress the disappointment bubbling up. He wasn’t a man of big, open emotions, but something about Geta made them pour out like a broken dam, no matter how hard he tried to stop it.

“Can I get you anything?” Lucius asked.

Geta shook his head, and Lucius let out a soft groan.

“Talk to me. What’s wrong today?��

There was a long silence. Then, in a soft, almost timid voice, Geta said, “Your kindness makes me uncomfortable, Lucius.”

The words hit like a gut punch. Lucius inhaled sharply. “Why?”

“Because what you��re doing is out of obligation and guilt. Your sense of honor. And on top of that, your love for Rome. I’m still valuable in your little schemes.”

Lucius wished Geta would stop talking. His voice strained with every word, but he wasn’t finished, his eyes starting to burn with fire.

“You want me to join you at your political parties? Parade me around? Fine. I’m yours to dress up and pull around on a leash.” The bitterness in his voice was sharp enough to cut. “But don’t coat your actions in gold when they were red to begin with.”

“What are you talking about?” Lucius’ frustration boiled over. Was this really what Geta had been stewing on since regaining consciousness? It was painful and unfair, far from the truth. It made him feel helpless. “Parading you around political parties?” His voice rose. “You barely survived, Geta! The last thing on my mind is getting you anywhere but this fucking bed!”

“And those investments in my health and recovery aren’t for your or Rome’s benefit?” Geta rasped, voice barely a whisper.

Lucius shook his head hard. “No. Your place in my parliament hasn’t crossed my mind once since you were shot. All I thought—all I prayed for—was your bloody survival, you fool!”

Geta opened his mouth to retort, but Lucius quickly pressed his palm over it.

“No! No more talking for you this afternoon.”

Geta’s brows knitted in fury, but he was wise enough not to fight physically or try to wriggle free. Lucius dared him with his eyes, and Geta stared back. They stayed like that for over a minute, the unsaid words heavy in the air.

“I’m going to get you water, and you are going to drink it just like you did before. Understood?” Lucius ground out, still tense, his hand still over Geta’s mouth.

Geta’s fiery eyes stared back in defiance. He shook his head slightly, but Lucius ignored it and removed his hand to let him breathe. He poured a glass of water and held it out, deciding it was better for Geta to do it himself rather than risk getting it thrown in his face. Geta strained to grab the glass, which seemed to weigh a ton in his hand. He used both hands to bring it to his lips, which were dry as paper. Lucius looked at him, just as he had a few weeks back when Geta was depressed after losing his brother.

“A few more sips.”

Lucius waited, then took the glass back. “

Please get some rest, Geta. You need it,” he said, too hurt to look him in the eyes.

For the next six days, Lucius only visited at night when he was sure Geta would be asleep. He didn’t want to risk another argument, for both their sakes. He would sit at the bedside, listening to Geta’s breathing. Sometimes Geta would talk in his sleep. The longer Lucius listened, the stranger the ramblings became.

Geta talked a lot about his mother and his brother Caracalla. The words ranged from incoherent mutterings to distressing sentences: “No” repeated over and over, or pleas to his mother not to leave, or even not to hurt him. Lucius wondered about the kind of youth Geta had endured.

According to Pius, Geta had asked about Lucius on two occasions. “He also started having strange panic attacks,” Pius told him the previous evening. “The shadows on the stone near his bed, the screaming soldiers in pain—he’s reacting to them badly.”

This wasn't good news. Sleep was the best remedy for Geta's severe injuries, and having anything disrupt it was unacceptable in Lucius' eyes. He began pondering whether moving Geta to his private quarters might be a possibility. His rooms were quieter, and Lucius would be better able to protect him. The idea wasn’t a bad one, provided Geta agreed. And that was a slight chance, given Geta's fear of him getting too close. It might be too much and push him away even more. Pius, however, grew impatient quickly and thought it better to move Geta anywhere but the infirmary, as it was growing more and more crowded. And this, in turn, was resulting in more and more distress in Geta's psyche.

Two days later, Lucius proposed the idea to Geta.

“What do you think? Would it okay?” Lucius asked, standing at the foot of Geta’s bed.

Geta was quiet for a moment, then nodded.

“Thank you.”

That night and the following nights, Geta slept around the corner of Lucius' room in the same quarter. There was no wall separating them, and Lucius was a firsthand witness to Geta's nightmares and bursts of panic. What had possessed him to think this would do any good for his own rest, he did not know.

One night, after enduring a week of lying awake listening to Geta's whimpering and rapid breathing, Lucius slid out of bed. Barefoot, he made his way through the dimly lit compartment, the cold of the stone biting into his footsoles.

Geta's eyes flew open immediately, his sleep so light he woke up by Lucius' presence alone.

“Shh, shh. It's me,” Lucius whispered.

“Oh. I thought...” Geta rubbed his eyes. 'Nevermind.'

“Let's go for a short walk,” Lucius said, deciding to try something different. “It's been three weeks since the attack. Pius did say a little movement would do you good.”

Geta's eyes flickered to the dark hall leading to the door.

“Please no.”

“Why?”

“I don't want to.” Geta's eyes were big and panicky. Lucius frowned.

“Did you have a bad dream again?” he asked, softening his voice.

Geta nodded. Lucius looked at him in silence, then sat down on the edge of the bed. He played with the fabric of the bedsheet.

“I'm sorry I was so hard on you in the infirmary a few days ago,” he said after a moment of silence.

“That's okay.” Geta rubbed his shoulder. “I... I understand it.”

“You do?”

A brief nod. “I was being unthankful.” He cleared his throat. “I am just afraid, Lucius.”

Lucius stared in front of him, letting his words sink in. Then he looked at Geta. “I want you to feel like you can trust me.”

Geta opened his mouth, then closed it again. He sighed. “I know. I...” He looked away. “I want to.”

“That's good.”

The silence stretched on. Then Geta added, “I fantasize about you holding me, sometimes,” he admitted, searching for Lucius' eyes briefly before looking away again.

“You do?”

Geta nodded, his eyes back on the ceiling. “When you disappeared for six days,” he took a deep breath, “I felt this emptiness.” His voice sounded strange. “This sense of abandonment.”

Geta had counted the days. Lucius shook his head, feeling his throat close up. “I was there at night.” He reached out to touch him, then pulled his hand back, thinking better of it.

“Oh. You were?” Geta lifted his neck slightly.

Lucius nodded. “I was.”

The corner of Geta's mouth lifted a little. “That's nice.” He dropped his head back into the pillow. His apricot hair fell in waves on the white linen, crowning his head. It had grown a little.

A calm silence fell. Lucius fingers were still fiddling with the bedsheet. Then he heard Geta's breath hitch.

“Lucius, can you hold me?” He asked. 

Lucius looked at him. Geta's eyes were closed as if he was afraid of the answer, his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

Lucius silently stood up and walked to the other side of the bed. He pulled up the sheet and crawled under it, close to the warmth of Geta's body, his infinite softness.

He carefully slid his left arm under Geta's ribcage, then pulled him toward his own torso until his slim body was aligned with the length of his. He wrapped the other arm around him and pulled him in close. Geta let out a soft moan of contentment.

Lucius' face was resting in the crook of Geta's neck, soaking up his scent. Sleep, mixed with honey and just him. It felt so right having him in his arms. Hearing the beating of his heart.

Not long after, Geta's breathing grew heavy, his body sagging into his embrace. Lucius lay awake for a while, thinking.

He would have to go to battle soon. He would have to give this up, just when he was starting to have it. He nuzzled his face behind Geta's ear, hoping the tear rolling down his cheekbone onto Geta's neck would go unnoticed.

Then he finally, finally fell into a deep, deep sleep.

Let me know what you think in the comments! Your wish is my command:)

Next part: part 7

[mimilind]

Stranger of the Falls - Part 1

Pairing: Boromir x Reader

Rating: T

Chapter Word Count: 2400

Parts: [ Next Part > ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

※※※

1. The Stranger

The Eastemnet was unnaturally empty and it felt eerie to drive along the narrow road, the reins in one hand and a long dagger in the other. The shepherdesses had seen a band of orcs in the vale that night. You knew those monsters were afraid of daylight but had brought the weapon just in case; better safe than sorry.

Soon a familiar rumbling sound began, steadily growing louder, until you rounded a corner and saw the mighty waterfall ahead. You would never get tired of the sight. A fine mist lay perpetually in the air and when you got closer a vibrant rainbow formed across it.

But you had no time to stop and admire the beauty of the Rauros Falls; just below them was your favorite bog moss patch and after the long winter you thoroughly needed to restock your supply of the absorbent material.

You had nearly filled your cart when a movement from above drew your eyes. Realizing what it was, you sharply drew in your breath. A boat? What idiot was riding a boat down that sheer drop?

That was all you had time to think before the boat crashed down, throwing the man it carried into the shallow part of the river while the rest of the vessel continued unperturbed.

You darted forward, catching him before the water sucked him down, and with all your strength you managed to haul him ashore. 

Frowning in concentration you swiftly examined the man. At first you thought he was dead, but then your experienced fingers found a pulse; weak, barely perceptible, but there. He must be within an inch of his life. His face was pallid and he had a long, ragged gash over his forehead where he had hit the rocks of the river bed, and from his chest and stomach several cruel, black arrows protruded, one of them broken. 

“Orcs,” you hissed between your teeth, nervously glancing around you, but thankfully the plains were empty. He must have been assaulted somewhere above the Falls.

You were grateful there was no safe way down the sheer cliff on this side of the river.

You returned your attention to the stranger. His wounds smelled oddly chemical. Some sort of poison you surmised, something that had petrified him, for as far as you could tell the arrows hadn’t pierced any vital organs. That meant he might live if you could get them out fast enough.

Knowing it would be a close call, you still never hesitated. You were a healer, and a patient was a patient, even if it was a stupid stranger who had tried to ride a boat through a swarm of orcs and down the world’s tallest waterfall. 

The man was big; tall and broad shouldered, and there was no way you could lift him into the cart by yourself, but with the help of the horse you finally managed to pull him on top of the soft, damp pile of moss. You wiped the sweat off your forehead and hurriedly drove home.

Back in the village, the palisade guards helped you lift the man into your house and put him down on your combined kitchen- and examination table. 

“Must be a rich fellow,” said Torsten. “Look at that golden belt and the embroidery on his tunic sleeves!”

“If you heal him, he gets to pay the belt,” Vidar decided, ogling it greedily. “And if he dies we get it anyway, obviously. For trying.” 

“Leave,” you ordered. You needed peace and quiet around you.

As soon as the door closed behind them you began working. You slid off the man’s long surcote and cut apart the tunic and shirt he wore underneath, wincing as you ruined the beautiful garments but there was nothing for it. Perhaps they could be mended later.

Then you started with the arrows, pulling them out one by one, thankful he was unconscious and unable to feel the pain. The broken one was a bit trickier to extract and you hoped you got all the splinters out.

You cleaned the nasty injuries with strong mead, adding a thick paste of honey, yarrow and other herbs to stop the bleeding and prevent infection. You covered them with wads of dried bog moss, the last of your old supply, and finished by wrapping his torso with snug linen bandages.

After working with such concentration you almost felt lightheaded when you paused to catch your breath, but there was no time to rest. You still had a lot to do if the stranger would survive. 

You took a quick detour to the kitchen, downed a cup of mead and put a slice of hard bread in your mouth. Then you continued, chewing on the dry food as you started on his head. 

A huge bump had formed and the entire area was red and swollen. You could not do much more than smear yarrow paste on it, hoping he hadn’t hurt his brain in the fall.

You checked his vitals again. By now, a little color had returned to the man’s face and the pulse was stronger. Whatever poison that had been on the arrow heads must have stopped affecting him as you got them out. 

His erratic breathing indicated he was on the verge of waking up. 

You returned to the kitchen, preparing a potion of poppy seed tincture, and willow bark for the pain, and mixed it with a nourishing broth. The man had lost a lot of blood; he needed his strength back. You also brought more mead.

Back at the table, the man’s left eyelash fluttered and opened. Immediately his whole side began to tremble as he struggled to move, and he slurred in an unknown language with his mouth twisted in a crooked grimace.

You knew from the frantic pulse on his neck that he was panicking, and no wonder. First nearly killed by orcs, then sent down the Falls, now unable to move. 

You tried to calm him, patting his quivering hand while mumbling in a soothing voice until he became still. Then you coaxed a spoonful of potion into his mouth; with luck, it would put him to sleep. 

But he had a hard time swallowing it.

That was not a good sign. You recalled old Ulf who used to be the village blacksmith; he had become crippled for life from a horse hoof in his face while shoeing it. Afterwards he was only able to move half of his face and body, and struggled to speak and swallow, and though he got slightly better with time he never fully recovered.  

If this stranger survived, it was possible he would end up the same way. 

You slipped more potion down his throat and followed it up with mead. He had stilled somewhat and his only open eye was beginning to roll back into his head. Then he went limp as the effect of the herbs and alcohol kicked in, and fell asleep.

The worst was over; now all you could do was wait and see. If the wounds did not fester he might make it.

You stretched your aching limbs. You could use some rest too, but duty called. 

Vidar was still lingering outside. “Did he die?” He sounded imprudently hopeful.

“Not yet. Get Torsten; we need to move him to the bed.”

The guards helped you carry the man to the only bed in the room, which happened to be yours. Normally patients would be brought to their own home after being treated, but this one obviously had nowhere else to go. You did not mind; you had a comfortable chair by the fireplace where you often slept.

The stranger stirred in his sleep and his left eye twitched. Again he mumbled something incomprehensible through his lopsided mouth.

“Is he a foreigner?” asked Vidar.

“Of course he is, you fool,” Torsten retorted. “Who in this land has dark hair like that?”

You regarded the man. It was true, he did not look Rohirrim. Was he from the north? You were not good at geography and did not know much about what kingdoms there were up there. He had costly clothes and his high boots, which you had removed to make him more comfortable, were of excellent quality. Though his palms were calloused, those marks must come from weapon use rather than labor, and his strong build was an indication as well; his wide shoulders and bulging arm muscles could have had ‘swordsman’ written on them. Was he a prince perhaps, or a high lord? 

But there was no time to idly wonder about the stranger’s origin, you still had a wagonload of bog moss that needed to be taken care of. “No rest for the wicked,” you told Vidar. “Will you help me unload my moss?”

When you were finally done it had grown late. Your stomach was growling but you were too tired to prepare a meal, instead you slumped into the chair and immediately fell asleep.

※

You woke early as was your habit and turned your head to look at the patient. Had he survived the night?

He had. Both his eyes were open now, albeit the right one just barely. He was moving the fingers of his left hand with an air of concentration, as if to test his limits. Despite his efforts he only managed a tiny wiggle and his features grew increasingly frustrated and desperate.

You felt sorry for him and what he must go through; it must be extra hard for a warrior to become paralyzed.

Your stomach growled and the sound drew his attention. You were surprised by the intensity in that one-eyed gaze. Yesterday he had been in shock, and later drugged, but he was perfectly clear headed and aware now.

His eye had an unusual gray color, in stark contrast with his dark brown hair and beard. The same color as the Falls where you found him.

He moved the good half of his mouth to speak. You still could not make out any words, but his voice was pleasant, deep and mellow. 

Upon hearing himself a faint blush crept up his cheeks and he immediately silenced. 

You went over to the bed, checking his forehead for a fever and whether his bandages needed changing. They did; dull red spots were blooming on the linen both on his head and chest.

“You were gravely hurt, my lord.” You told him where you found him, what injuries he had and how you’d treated them. If a patient knew what had happened to them, that could often ease their stress. This man had been near death. Coming to terms with such a thing wasn’t easy. 

The man did not reply and shifted his gaze away from you. 

“Do you understand?” you asked. You were using the common language but perhaps he did not speak it. Or maybe he just did not want to slur again and embarrass himself. 

You continued speaking, whether he understood or not. It was a bit like soothing a wounded animal; they did not know the words but the tone calmed them. “I am going to change your bandages now.” You did so, explaining everything you did, and apologizing for the pain. 

He uttered not so much as a grunt when you changed the bloodied bog moss and rebandaged his arrow wounds. Did he not feel it, or was he just stoic? If the former, that was worrisome; loss of sensation often meant the paralysis would last.

Then you saw a growing damp patch on his pants. 

He had noticed it too and blushed furiously, an expression of deep mortification passing over his features. He squeezed both eyes shut and turned his face to the wall.

You took it as a good sign. He obviously could not control his bladder yet, but since he knew what had happened he must feel it, and that gave you hope he would regain more mobility in time. 

You pulled the blanket higher, and under its cover you peeled off his soiled garments and cleaned him. While working, you told him what you had been thinking, partly to take his mind off the uncomfortable situation. “You see, my lord, someone who hurts their head and cannot feel a thing afterwards, they will often not get better. But I believe your senses are intact which means you are not so ill-fated. Even if you will never be completely healed, you might very well be able to learn to walk again – perhaps with a cane.” You put a bedpan strategically between his legs. “There, all done. Worry not about this, my lord; I have been a healer nearly all my life and there is not much I have not seen.”

Your stomach reminded you that you still hadn’t had breakfast. “Time to prepare something to eat.” You made gruel for both of you, but topped off your patient’s share with more poppy tincture and willow bark. As you brought it back you explained its contents and the calming, painkilling effect. 

“Swallow this,” you bid, holding a spoon to his lips.

He closed them into a thin line.

“Come on,” you goaded. “It tastes a little bitter but you can wash it down with mead.”

He did not obey. Instead he looked at you. Both his eyes were open now, but only the left one fully. 

His gaze was the most dejected you had ever seen. Filled with bottomless darkness and despair, as if everything, absolutely everything, was lost to him. He had given up. 

You read death in his eyes.

It frightened you a little. What had happened to this man to make him abandon all hope? Well, apart from nearly getting killed, obviously.

His hopelessness filled you with sympathy, and somehow he must have sensed that for his forehead suddenly creased and he turned away again. He did not want your pity, that much was clear.

With a sigh you left him alone. With time his hunger and thirst would make him weak and his pain become unbearable. Then he would hopefully accept the relief you offered.

※※※

A/N:

This fic is dedicated to Scyllas_Revenge who made me realize what an interesting character Boromir is. But I also wrote it for me. :) I have a thing for hurt, silent, stoic warriors…

Feedback is much appreciated!

※※※

Parts: [ Next Part > ] [ Masterlist ]

Full story: [ AO3 ]

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In today's world of stress and depression many people suffer from erectile dysfunction which is common among many people. One of the benefits of black horse vital honey is its ability to treat erectile dysfunction. The powerful combination of ingredients works to improve blood flow to the penis, leading to a stronger and more durable erection.

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