Faramir Fiction Archive

A Steward’s Desire (NC-17)

Written by Laurëlóte

27 February 2006 | 13627 words

Chapter 5

The next morning, Aragorn was in a foul mood. He knew deep down that he had no right to be angry. It was not like anything had ever happened between him and Faramir, but that did not stop him fuming.

He was furious at Éomer for attempting to seduce his beloved Faramir and upset at the Steward for letting him try. His only solace was that Faramir had rejected the other man. So maybe, whatever had happened between them in the past was just that, in the past.

Attempting to keep his anger hidden, he went to the council room to meet with Éomer and his advisors.

Faramir smiled to see Aragorn enter the room. He always hated this type of meeting but having Aragorn there next to him always made it much more bearable. “Good morning, My Lord,” he said cheerfully.

Getting no words or smile in response, Faramir frowned. It was as if Aragorn had not even noticed he was there. Studying the king’s face, Faramir noted the dark circles underneath his eyes; he obviously had not got much sleep.

“Aragorn?” he tried again. “Are you alright, my Lord?”

Startled at hearing his name Aragorn looked around and was surprised to see Faramir standing there. If it had not been the fact that a group of councillors were going to walk in any minute, he would have walked over and wrapped his arms around the young man. He did not care anymore. He would have confessed all his feelings and desires. He even would have got on his knees and begged if it meant being able to spend just one night with him.

Before he could say or do anything, his advisors arrived for the meeting, followed shortly by Éomer and a couple of his men. Just the sight of him made the king’s blood boil once more.

The meeting started off badly when Aragorn went back on his word from the previous night when he had agreed to let Éomer have a tenth of their harvest. It had been a generous offer, but one that Gondor could easily have afforded to give since the harvest was expected to be extremely good. Now he was refusing to give Éomer any more than a twentieth, and wanted an unreasonable amount in return.

He knew fully well that his new offer was not enough, but now his only interest was making Éomer suffer for what he had done with Faramir.

The meeting went from bad to worse, with Éomer and Aragorn clearly rubbing each other up the wrong way. When it looked like no agreement was going to be reached any time soon, Faramir stepped in and called a break in the proceedings for lunch.

Asking to see Aragorn in private before joining the others in the dining hall, he walked him to his study. Faramir hoped that he could just make the king see sense. He did not like the idea of watching others starve while they had plenty.

“What is the matter, my Lord?” asked Faramir gently. “Yesterday we settled on a perfectly good trade agreement, it makes no sense to argue about it now.”

“Nothing was agreed last night,” pointed out Aragorn. “And I have decided that maybe we were being a bit too generous.”

“Maybe, my Lord, but only a little. But now if you do not mind me saying so, you are being highly unreasonable. The people of Rohan will starve without this agreement.”

“Yes I do mind you saying so!” snapped Aragorn. Right now he did not give a damn about Rohan.

“Forgive my rudeness, my Lord,” said Faramir quietly. “I spoke out of turn.”

Seeing the sad look in the young man’s eyes, Aragorn melted. It was not fair to take out his anger on him. Resting his hands on his chin he shut his eyes and let out a big sigh. “I am sorry Faramir, you were speaking the truth. I did not mean to shout at you. I did not get much sleep last night; I have had much on my mind recently. Perhaps all this hard work has got to me.” He said softly, attempting a small smile to ease the situation.

“Would you like me to finish the talks without you, my Lord?” asked Faramir. “I am sure a fair agreement can be reached. You should go and relax for a while.”

Instantly Aragorn could not help thinking how much Éomer would like that. Getting Faramir by himself so he can sweet talk him. Feeling his anger bubbling up once more he gently declined Faramir’s offer hoping he would let the matter drop. He just needed a few minutes alone to compose himself.

“But, my Lord, you look exhausted,” pressed Faramir. “I am perfectly capable of reaching a deal on my own.”

Aragorn’s anger boiled over. “I know you are capable Lord Steward, but would it be in Gondor’s best interest?”

Faramir was shocked, he felt like he had just been stabbed by a Morgul blade. “Just what are you suggesting, my lord? Do you doubt my loyalty to Gondor?” asked Faramir in disbelief.

“I am suggesting that you might let your personal relationships interfere with your judgement,” spat back Aragorn.

“Well in that case I had best leave then,” said Faramir angrily. Struggling to retain his composure he started to move towards the door.

“Lord Steward, you have not been dismissed,” came the voice behind him. Opening the door, Faramir ignored it. “Lord Steward!”

Faramir kept on walking, letting the door slam behind him.

---

Faramir had no idea how much time had passed since he had walked out on Aragorn. He had returned to his quarters after that and stayed there, getting lost in thought.

He wondered how Aragorn had possibly found out about his previous relationship with Éomer; they had always tried to be discreet. He also could not help wondering why Aragorn so clearly disapproved of it; it was not as if he was a stranger to male lovers himself.

A knock at the door disturbed Faramir from his thoughts. He ignored it, hoping that whoever it was would let him be. He was in no mood to see anyone.

The knock came again, this time followed by a voice, “Faramir, open the door.”

Faramir sighed. It was Éomer. He supposed the least he could do was apologise for his behaviour in not returning to the meeting. Reluctantly he unlocked the door, and went and sat back down.

Hearing the clink of a key turning in the lock, Éomer pushed open the door and went in. Seeing Faramir return to his seat, Éomer frowned. He had been concerned by the young man’s absence and his suspicions were confirmed upon seeing his dejected manner.

“Are you alright?” he asked, giving Faramir’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I was worried when you did not return to the meeting.”

Faramir shrugged. “I did not feel it was necessary for me to be there any longer.”

“You did not feel it necessary to attend dinner either?”

“I was not hungry,” replied Faramir just as dismissively. Trying to act more cordial he said, “I am sorry I did not attend the rest of the meeting, and I apologise on behalf of the King. I do not know what was concerning him so much that would cause him to act so unjustly.”

“I trust a suitable agreement was reached in the end?” he added hopefully.

“Yes it was. Thank you,” said Éomer nodding. He knew exactly what Aragorn’s problem was. He had noticed the glares in his direction every time he so much as glanced at the steward.

“He is mine, Aragorn,” he thought to himself. “I made him mine months ago, and I will make sure you know to whom he belongs.”

A pang of guilt swept through him. This was not a game, nor was it a power struggle between two kings. It was just that he loved Faramir and did not want to lose him.

By now Faramir was staring at the floor with his elbows resting on his knees. He played the argument over and over in his head. He still could not believe that Aragorn could possibly think that he would ever put anything before his beloved Gondor; the place he would give his life and soul for.

Éomer disliked seeing Faramir miserable. “I would much prefer to see him happy,” he thought to himself. “He looks stunning when he smiles, and action he does not do enough. I am sure I can cheer him up if he will let me.”

He crouched down in front of him and reaching out his hand, he ran a finger along the Steward’s jaw, coming to rest just under his chin. Slowly he tilted Faramir’s head upwards until their eyes met and was pained to see such sadness.

“Smile now, my love,” he said gently. “I do not know what Aragorn said to upset you so, but let me take all the pain away for you now.”

He moved his hand onto Faramir’s cheek and gently brushed across his lips with his thumb, causing Faramir to involuntarily slip out his tongue to moisten them.

“I have missed you Faramir, how I have longed to hold you once more.”

Bringing his other hand up to match his first, he leaned forward and kissed Faramir gently, much like he had done the previous night. His tongue brushed gently across the recently moistened lips, seeking entry into the young man’s mouth.

This time, Faramir returned the kiss, somewhat reluctant at first, but eventually giving completely into temptation. He slipped his arms around Éomer’s waist, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

That was all the encouragement Éomer needed. Breaking off the kiss, he rose to his feet. “Let’s go to bed,” he said with a smile, taking Faramir’s hand.

Faramir allowed himself to be led into his bed chamber. Why should he not enjoy himself? He had ruined what little chance he had with Aragorn anyway.

Determined not to think about the man he desired, at least for tonight, he wrapped his arms round Éomer’s neck and kissed him passionately.

Éomer knew deep down that Faramir’s heart no longer belonged to him, and so was momentarily thrown off stride by the forcefulness of the kiss.

Once he had recovered, he untied the fastenings on the other man’s tunic and quickly rid him of it exposing the well toned chest of his lover. Pushing him onto the bed, he set about delivering small kisses all over Faramir’s shoulders and torso. Knowing that the young man’s neck was extremely sensitive, Éomer slowly ran his tongue upwards from his shoulder to his ear lobe making the man beneath him shudder with pleasure.

Faramir felt himself harden instantly at the action of Éomer’s tongue; he would orgasm from that action alone if it was continued. Impatiently he tugged at Éomer’s tunic, desperately trying to get rid of the barrier of clothing that was between them.

“You are always so impatient my love,” whispered Éomer, smiling. He quickly discarded his clothes and helped Faramir to remove his leggings, exposing his hardened shaft.

The young steward explored the newly uncovered body in front of him, running his fingers over Éomer’s shoulders and back before coming to rest on his taut buttocks. Once again he kissed Éomer hungrily, exploring his mouth with his tongue.

Éomer moaned into his embrace as Faramir skilfully stroked the length of his shaft. “I need to be inside you my love,” he said in a husky voice, his eyes filled with desire and lust.

Receiving a smile in reply, Éomer reached down to retrieve a small bottle from his tunic. Pouring a few drops onto his fingers, he motioned for Faramir to turn himself over onto his knees.

Feeling Éomer’s fingers along his crack, Faramir let out a moan of anticipation, and thrust himself backwards as he felt a fingertip against his tight entrance. Éomer bestowed kisses on his lover’s neck as he gently slipped his finger into the entrance stretching the muscle gently. Quickly a second finger was added causing Faramir to let out another moan.

“Please hurry, I need you inside me now,” the young man begged.

Éomer’s kisses turned to nips and licks as he added a third finger. Faramir cried out in ecstasy. He was desperate to touch his own arousal, but managed to resist, not wanting to cause his own release.

Removing his fingers, Éomer turned the steward onto his back and raised his hips slightly with one hand, positioning his shaft at Faramir’s entrance as his lover’s legs were wrapped around his waist.

Slowly he entered the young man, feeling the muscles tighten around his shaft. The look of desire and pleasure on his lover’s face made it difficult not to thrust, but he managed to wait to allow him to adjust. Receiving a nod, he started to move slowly in and out, soon quickening his pace as the other man’s breathing became heavier.

Faramir moved himself slightly enabling Éomer to hit him in just the spot, causing him to cry out once again.

“Come with me,” he pleaded, as Éomer once again attacked his neck with his tongue. The sensation proved too much for the young man and he soon spilled his seed between their stomachs, his orgasm pushing Éomer over the edge.

The king thrust deep into Faramir’s body, biting down hard on his shoulder to stifle the cry as he came inside the young man; a feeling of ecstasy washing over him.

“That was wonderful, my love,” he whispered once he had recovered enough to speak.

After cleaning them both with a cloth, Éomer pulled his lover into a tight embrace. “I love you Faramir,” he said sleepily, for the first time admitting his feelings for the young steward.

“Éomer, I…” started Faramir. He knew he had to tell the other man that he could never care for him in the same way, that he was in love with another. It was only fair.

“Shh, my love,” said Éomer gently, kissing the young man on the brow. “It is alright, I already know.”

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