Faramir Fiction Archive

A Steward’s Desire (NC-17)

27 February 2006 | 13627 words

Chapter 3

A couple of days later, Faramir was woken by voices outside his door. He groaned, and then smiled to himself. It was nothing important, he realised, only the end of the night shift and the guards were coming off duty; he had a few hours yet. He was just drifting back off to sleep, when he realised that it was the day he was to go riding with Aragorn, and was supposed to be meeting him early.

He had tried his best to get out of it; even ‘accidentally’ losing a highly important report and offering to rewrite it, but Aragorn just would not budge. They were going riding, and that was final.

Swearing under his breath, he jumped out of bed, threw on some riding clothes, splashed some water on his face and rushed down to the stables. He was late, but not by much.

He arrived to find Aragorn waiting for him, looking particularly handsome in his travel cloak. Brego and another horse were already saddled up, and judging by the smile he received, Aragorn did not seem to mind his tardiness.

“I hope you are up for a hard and fast ride this morning,” said Aragorn, passing Faramir the reins to his horse before mounting Brego.

“Hard and fast, just the way I like it,” muttered Faramir to himself, blushing at his thought. Out loud he said, “Of course, it is the best way to ride after all.”

Soon they were galloping through field after field, Aragorn ahead, obviously with a destination in mind, and Faramir following slightly behind.

They had been riding for several hours when Aragorn finally pulled to a halt. Faramir had not minded the fast pace at which they had been travelling. It had been impossible for small talk, and Aragorn had been far enough away not to awaken his desires too much. He had decided that if he could just keep some distance between the two of them, then hopefully he wouldn’t do anything stupid.

“We will stop here for a while I think,” said Aragorn. “I made the assumption that you would not have eaten anything yet this morning and so I brought some food.” He led Brego into a wooded area nearby.

Following the king, Faramir admitted that he had indeed, not broken fast and that food would be a very good idea. They stopped in a small clearing, surrounded by trees making it completely secluded from the outside world.

“Very romantic,” Faramir thought to himself. “I wonder why I have not found this place before.”

“How on earth did you find this place Aragorn?” he asked in amazement. “I know most of the area around here, but I have never once found anywhere as beautiful as this.”

“Well what can I say; I am a man of many talents.” replied Aragorn with a mischievous smile. “I am sure you will come to find out more of them over time,” he added with a flirty tone in his voice and a subtle wink.

Faramir’s heart missed a beat, before panic set in. Had Aragorn just winked at him? “I am sure he was flirting with me,” he thought, then scolded himself. “Of course he was not. You have spent so much time fantasising Faramir, that you have started imagining things. There is no way Aragorn would be interested in you.”

Seeing Faramir’s panicked expression, Aragorn cursed himself and quickly said, “Help yourself to some food,” taking it out of a bag, desperately trying to save the situation. There was nothing he wanted more than to grab Faramir, kiss him passionately, and to take him right there on the ground beneath them, but he did not want to scare him away more than he already had. He had spent weeks desperately trying not to be too forward, Faramir was far too skittish for that.

“Does he even like men?” he wondered to himself. “Might be an idea to find that out first.” There was no way he was going to make a move without being absolutely certain that it was what Faramir wanted first.

Steering the conversation away from anything remotely awkward, Aragorn watched as Faramir became visibly much more relaxed, as they discussed some books, which Aragorn had found a few weeks previously. Eventually, however curiosity got the better of the king; there were too many questions he wanted answering. For a start, maybe if he could just find out what happened with Éowyn…

“Have you ever thought about getting married Faramir?” asked Aragorn, completely out of the blue. “I heard that you were engaged to Éowyn for a while, but I am sure you would have told me if it were true.”

“No, I was never engaged to her,” answered Faramir, too stunned by the question to think about what he was saying. “She asked, but…” Faramir broke off. Why on the whole of Arda did he say just that? Now Aragorn was going to want to know why he said no. “She is not really my type,” he added with a shrug, hoping that the matter would not be carried any further.

To be on the safe side he got to his feet. “It is about time we started heading back Aragorn,” he said “There is much that still needs to be prepared for King Éomer’s arrival tomorrow.”

Aragorn was somewhat pleased by Faramir’s answer. If Éowyn was not the Steward’s type, then maybe he was. And if nothing else, it would explain why she had been so upset, and why Faramir had reacted the way he had when told of Éomer’s visit. In which case it would have all been forgotten by now.

Aragorn sighed as Faramir got up, “Yes, I suppose you are right. It is a shame though, I feel like I could stay here forever.” he said sadly, putting a hand on the younger man’s shoulder. He noticed that Faramir had not reacted to the touch as he had expected. He had thought that he would flinch or move away as quickly as possible. But instead the steward seemed content for it to remain a minute.

He was just trying to decide if he should throw caution to the wind and kiss the steward, when Faramir pulled away breaking the moment.

“You would soon miss your bed after sleeping here for a few nights,” said Faramir with a nervous laugh as he went to get the horses. “You know as well as I do that the ground is never as comfortable as it looks.”

In secret Faramir chastised himself, he had lingered too long under Aragorn’s touch, and nearly lost control. “It would have completely ruined everything, Aragorn would probably have been so horrified that he would never have spoken to you again” he told himself.

Apart from a few words at the start of the ride, the men rode back in silence. Each lost in their own thoughts as to what they thought was happening between them.

Faramir convinced himself that he was reading far too much into Aragorn’s words and actions. The king was a naturally friendly person, and every friendly action or word was surely just that, meant from a friend to a friend. He seen Aragorn place his hand on Legolas’ shoulder just like that, many times before. It meant nothing.

Aragorn was as confused as ever. Just when he thought he had made some headway with the young man, it seemed Faramir was desperate to get out of the situation as quickly as possible. Faramir was much too special to him to frighten off. He would, he decided, have to take things very slowly indeed.

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