Faramir Fiction Archive

A Steward’s Desire (NC-17)

Written by Laurëlóte

27 February 2006 | 13627 words

Pairing: Aragorn/Faramir, Faramir/Éomer
Summary: Sometimes it’s hard to bottle up your feelings and to hide your desires.
Feedback: This is my first attempt at a fiction, so feedback would be highly appreciated. Send it to laurelote@hotmail.co.uk
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, they all belong to Tolkien, I’ve merely borrowed them.

A big thank you to Minx Kat for agreeing to be my beta reader, the help is much appreciated. :)

---

Chapter 1

For the third time that week, Faramir woke late. It was most unusual for him, as his nightmares often caused him broken sleep, and to awaken at the crack of dawn.

But gone now were the dark dreams which had haunted him for so long, of Boromir, fire and orcs. Yet they had been replaced with something he found almost as disturbing, for his dreams had turned to passion and desire. They had caused a longing which scared him. A longing which would never, could never, be satisfied. No, he must not dwell on those thoughts.

The dreams had started almost three weeks ago, although he suspected that the desire had stirred long before that. Not that he would ever admit that to himself, or to anyone else for that matter. In fact, he had felt a connection the first time he saw those soulful grey eyes in the Houses of Healing, looking down on him with a gaze of worry and concern.

He had long since recovered from those physical injuries and much had happened since. Six months ago Aragorn had been crowned king and had asked Faramir to be his Steward. It was a role which was no longer necessary, with a king on the throne, but Aragorn had felt it important to keep up traditions and not to change things too much. He had assigned Faramir with a number of duties, which he himself did not have the enough time to dedicate himself to. He relied on Faramir, knowing that he would always do what was best for Gondor.

Since Faramir had grown up in the White City, Aragorn often asked for his advice on various matters, for he was still not entirely sure on how things were done, or how things were perceived by the public. They had started spending evenings together, discussing the more important issues of the city, along with less significant things such as poetry and literature. It was well known by everyone that growing up; Faramir had spent more time with his nose in a book, than a sword in his hand.

It was these evenings together that had triggered his dreams, and now Faramir did not know what to do. He had been trying to act like normal but it was hard, and he did not trust himself. How he wanted that man, desired him, he wanted to know what it would be like to have those lips against his own, to feel his beard against his cheek, to have those arms wrapped around him, holding him close.

He was no stranger to male lovers; he had known for a long time that he was not attracted to females. He had always been drawn to masculinity; that ‘rough and ready’ look, the muscular body of the soldier. Men who were full of strength and dominance. Aragorn was perfect, everything he wanted and more.

He wondered what it would be like to have Aragorn inside him, what kind of lover would he be? Would he would be rough, reinforcing his status as ruler, the one in charge?

“No,” he thought, “Aragorn cares deeply about everyone; he would be a considerate lover, making sure that I got as much pleasure from it as him. He would make us feel equal, while still maintaining that regal charm he has in everything he does... ”

He shook his head violently; he could not have those thoughts. As handsome as he was, this was no mere ranger, this was his king!

He was still trying to force those thoughts from his mind as he went down to breakfast. He hoped that he would be able to dine alone before disappearing into his study to do some much needed paperwork. He had been placed in charge of restoration of buildings which had been destroyed during the war and with the first lot well under way, he had to begin to prioritise those which were left. He had much to keep him busy, and he knew that once he started he would be unlikely to be disturbed.

The hall appeared empty as he entered, but he looked around to see a man eating alone. The King! He turned quickly; he had to get out before he could be noticed. He could not face Aragorn now.

“Faramir!”

Faramir winced as he heard his name being called from inside the hall. He had been seen. Reluctantly he turned back round.

“Yes, my lord?” he replied questioningly.

Aragorn gave a look of displeasure at the way he had just been addressed. He had asked Faramir many times not to be so formal and to call him Aragorn, as all his friends did. But he had refused to do so anywhere that he might be overheard, and would only address him as Aragorn in the privacy of either of their studies. To Faramir he was king first, and friend second.

“Sit, join me. Why are you in such a hurry to leave when you have not yet eaten? It is what you came here to do is it not?” asked Aragorn inquisitively “You turn down my company yesterday evening, and now you will not join me for breakfast. Anyone would think you were trying to avoid me!” he added teasingly.

Faramir felt a pang of guilt run through him. That is just what he had been trying to do. Although he knew he could not avoid him altogether, he thought if he could just spend less time with Aragorn, then maybe these thoughts would leave him, or at the very least he could shut them away in the back of his mind.

“Of course not my Lord, I am just busy that is all. The next set of buildings due for restoration need to be selected. Reviewing the requests seems to be taking up an awful lot of my time.” he replied, hoping that he sounded convincing enough that Aragorn would let the matter be dropped.

“Well, I best let you get on then,” said Aragorn, “At least join me for dinner tonight in my private dining hall. I have been warned about what you are like when you are in one of your working moods,” he chuckled. “Someone has to make sure you eat. If it were up to you, you would be half dead of starvation before you even noticed you were hungry.”

Faramir knew that he could not refuse; Aragorn would make sure he was there even if he had to carry him. So instead he nodded affirmatively and hurried out of the room grabbing a couple of apples from the table as he went passed.

---

Aragorn sighed, he cared about Faramir a lot, maybe a little too much. And he knew him well enough to know when something was bothering the young man. During the first few months of becoming king, he had learnt much about Faramir’s life, his closeness to Boromir, his relationship with his father, his skill as a fighter and his love of literature. He also knew that he needed much reassurance of his worth and his ability of being Steward. Everything he had learnt about him made him more and more curious, and he found himself liking him more and more.

But Faramir himself never spoke about himself or his relationships. He kept himself to himself, and had been trained never to show his feelings to anyone. Aragorn knew that Faramir had courted Lady Éowyn for a while after they had both been released from the Houses of Healing, but it had not worked out and she had returned home. Everyone loved and admired him, but he did not seem to notice, always striving to prove himself. Aragorn wondered if Faramir really had any close friends, he knew of none.

No, he would have to take it up on himself to get to the bottom of whatever it was that was bothering the young Steward; it had been weeks since he had seen the man smile. And quite frankly, he missed it.

Chapter 2

Faramir reached his study and threw himself down in the chair at his desk. Putting his head in his hands, he let out a huge sigh before shaking off his thoughts for a final time, and taking a paper off the top of the pile on the corner of the desk.

He read the paper, crossed out a few lines, signed it and placed it in a new pile on the floor, before reaching for the next one. A process which was repeated many times.

It was a knock at the door which first roused the Steward from his work. He looked up as he heard someone enter the room.

“Aragorn!” he exclaimed, surprised to see the king standing there.

“I have come to collect you for dinner,” stated Aragorn, “You did not hear the bell?”

Faramir frowned “Is it that time already? I did not hear any bell. Go on without me, I’ll just finish this. I feel like I’ve hardly started my paperwork.” he said, rather flustered.

“From the look of this pile,” said Aragorn bending down to pick up the heap of papers which had now amassed on the floor. “I would say you’ve done plenty. Leave the rest for tomorrow. Come on.”

Faramir sighed, reluctantly placing the paper he was reading back on his to do pile, and followed Aragorn along the corridor to his private dining hall.

It was much smaller than the Great Hall in which they normally ate, but still quite large. It seemed to him that there was enough food on the table for a banquet, but there were only two places set.

“Sit. Eat.” said Aragorn as he noticed Faramir pausing by one of the chairs, “And that, is an order.” he added with a grin, and a twinkle in his eye.

Faramir sat. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for that smile. He looked over at Aragorn, his eyes coming to rest on those perfectly formed lips. He could not help wondering how it would feel to kiss them, to brush his lips against them, and how they would taste.

A stirring in his groin forced him to abandon his thoughts and to return to the present. He was suddenly glad he was seated; he would hate his arousal to be noticed, especially by the King.

Trying to act as normal as possible, he grabbed a piece of bread from a bowl and started to eat, pulling it apart into bite sized chunks as he did so. After a while, he realised that Aragorn was watching him and immediately felt uncomfortable. Putting the bread down he spoke slowly, “So what did you wish to see me about?”

Aragorn had become mesmerised watching the younger man eat. “Does he know how seductive it looks when he does that?” he thought to himself as he watched Faramir’s tongue wrap around each piece of bread, taking it into his mouth. The Steward’s question startled him, breaking the trance he was in.

“Does one need a reason to have dinner with a friend?” he asked in response.

“When I have been invited to your private dining hall, the one you hardly ever use, because you much prefer to eat with your subjects, yes.” chuckled Faramir.

Aragorn laughed too. “Fair enough, I see I’ve been caught out once again.” he said. “There are a couple of little business matters I want to discuss with you. But they can wait. You have been working solidly for days now, when was the last time you so much as looked outside?”

“Well.. I ermm…” spluttered Faramir “I have been busy. There is plenty of time to enjoy fresh air when I have finished assigning funds for the restorations.”

“I see,” said Aragorn slowly. “And when will that be? I thought we might go out for a ride sometime. In a couple of days perhaps?”

“I need fresh air even if you do not.” he added

“Of course Aragorn. That would be good. I should be almost finished by then,” agreed the Steward whilst secretly thinking how he might get out of it. A day’s riding with Aragorn, was definitely not what he needed right now. “And what of these business matters? I always find it is best to get these things out the way early in the evening.” he added, desperate to change the subject.

“I would like for you to help captain the White Company for a while,” said Aragorn. “Some of the new recruits drafted in from the other regiments are proving to be a handful. And the Captain, Beregond is somewhat inexperienced in such matters. I know I already ask too much of you, but this would be a great help, and only for the short term. Beregond just needs a bit of guidance for a while.”

“Well, I guess I can try. I owe him much. But what makes you think that they will listen to me when they will not listen to him?” asked Faramir, unsure he could do anything to help.

“Faramir, have some faith in yourself. You are the Steward of Gondor, Prince of Ithilien and an accomplished Captain. Of course they are going to listen to you,” snapped a frustrated Aragorn. “If I did not think you were capable, I would not have asked.” he added more gently. He could not help getting annoyed, although he knew it was not Faramir’s fault he has such low self-esteem. Silently he cursed Denethor for causing this.

“Yes, My Lord,” replied Faramir quietly, looking at his plate. He was unused to the King speaking to him in quite that tone. “Was there anything else?”

Aragorn was about to lecture the young man once again about addressing him formally, when he realised that they were talking business, and that some things would never change. So instead, he moved on to his next matter.

“I have received a letter from Éomer, he wishes to discuss trade possibilities. I have invited him to meet with us. It has been said that he drives quite a hard bargain, and since I know you got on quite well with him while he and Éowyn were here before, I wondered if you had any idea about what sort of deal he might be after.” Aragorn said, watching for Faramir’s reaction to Éowyn’s name. They had obviously cared about each other a great deal; he wanted to know why it had not worked out between them.

“Éomer?” Faramir said, turning quite pale, and choking on the wine he had been drinking. Recovering quickly he said “Well, horses from Rohan are always worth bargaining for. Éomer obviously has something in mind, although I have no idea what I am afraid. Will he be coming here?”

Aragorn was surprised to see Faramir react so badly at the mention of Éomer. “Did they part on bad terms,” he wondered. He could not remember seeing any tension between them, but now he thought about it, Éowyn had seemed quite upset over those last few days. “Something must have happened,” he thought, knowing how protective Éomer was over his little sister.

With business over, they finished eating while talking about nothing in particular. At the offer of joining Aragorn in his quarters for a few more drinks, Faramir had made his excuses and returned to his own. Knowing that the Steward clearly had something on his mind that he wished not to discuss, Aragorn let him go, feeling disappointed that Faramir still would not confide in him.

---

Back in his room, Faramir could not help thinking about his earlier conversation with Aragorn. How did he feel about seeing Éomer again? Part of him wanted to hate the King of Rohan, knowing that he was the reason he had not married Lady Éowyn, but he found he could not. It would never have been fair on her anyway.

He had only ever told one person about his preference in bed partners; his brother Boromir. He of course, just laughed, and poured some more ale. “Well then, Little Brother, we best make sure I find myself a good maiden then,” he had said with a wink.

Faramir had thought about this a lot since his brother’s death. He knew that unless he married and had children, then it would the end of the bloodline. The end of the Stewards. It was in the Houses of Healing that he finally made his decision. To put his desires to one side and to do his duty and marry.

With this in mind, he had made an honest go at courting Éowyn. He was extremely fond of her. She was smart, witty and beautiful, and most importantly to him, a good friend.

He thought back to the night of Aragorn’s coronation. The evening had been lovely. Wanting to get away from the partying and drinking, he and Éowyn had gone for a walk in the royal gardens. They had talked about many things, laughed and joked. She had lent over and kissed him shyly, and he knew then that if he was to marry anyone, it would be her. He had walked her back to her room, before returning to his own quarters. And that is when Éomer had ruined it all.

As he opened his door that night, he had found Éomer sitting there waiting for him. He could still remember the seductive voice Éomer had used as he had walked over to him. He had said, “Are you sure that it is my sister you desire and nothing else?” And that is when Éomer had kissed him, and awakened all the feelings which he had been determined to keep locked away.

Faramir had returned the kiss, being unable to pull away, even though he knew he should. It had been incredible. Éomer dominated the kiss, and while his tongue was exploring every inch of Faramir’s mouth, he had guided him over to the bed.

From that moment on, they had been unable to keep their hands off each other. Both knowing it was only lust. Faramir taking everything Éomer was willing to give, but knowing things would never be the same again.

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.

Chapter 4

Aragorn sat in his study, a report in hand, distracted. He cursed when he realised he had just read the same passage for the fifth time, and threw the sheaf of papers across the room.

He just could not concentrate. Every time he started to read about the current state of defences in Dol Amroth, his mind just wandered to his gorgeous steward, definitely a much more pleasant thing to think about.

Faramir had seemed apprehensive at breakfast, and he knew somehow that it was due to Éomer’s expected arrival later that day, but still believed that it was due to the King of Rohan’s over-protectiveness of his sister Éowyn.

“He just worries too much,” thought Aragorn smiling. “I am sure whatever happened between them has been long since forgotten. And anyway, how could anyone not forgive Faramir?”

Aragorn could not help but think back to when he had asked Faramir to continue being his Steward after his coronation. Faramir was so young and inexperienced and had been so nervous about taking up the position, worried that he would not be good enough. He was proud at how hard Faramir had worked at it since then. He gave his all in everything which had been asked of him.

He had fallen hard for the young man, and had no idea what he would do if Faramir did not share those feelings.

Sighing, he reluctantly he got up to retrieve the report from the floor and started to read it for the sixth time. This time he was disturbed by a knock at the door.

“Come in,” called Aragorn.

The door opened and a guard entered. “My Lord,” he said bowing slightly. “The party from Rohan have been sighted and will be arriving shortly. Captain Faramir is waiting to greet them.”

“Thank you,” replied Aragorn. “You may return to your duties.”

As the guard left, Aragorn rose and went to the window. The party were indeed close, and he decided that he would also meet them. If there was any tension between Faramir and the King of Rohan he wanted to make sure it did not develop into anything more serious.

Heading down to the gates he arrived just in time to see the group riding in.

“King Éomer, it is a pleasure to see you again,” said Faramir in a professional manner as he welcomed the party.

“No, I assure you the pleasure is all mine Lord Steward,” replied Éomer as he dismounted from his horse and gave the reins to the stable hands waiting.

“Éowyn sends you her regards. She wanted to come along, but I managed to convince her that someone had to stay behind and look after things. Although I do feel it is me she would rather keep her eye on.” At this he smiled, giving Faramir a mischievous look.

“She has not yet forgiven you then?” chuckled Faramir.

“Alas, no. I feel that if may take a while yet. You however, were forgiven long ago. It was all my bad influence apparently,” Éomer said with a wink.

Aragorn watched the exchange closely. He instantly disliked the friendly banter and the closeness that was apparent between the two men. He especially hated the way that Éomer was looking at his steward, and the way that Faramir seemed so at ease with him.

Deciding it was time to interrupt the reunion, Aragorn made himself known. “Welcome back to Gondor, Éomer. I trust all is well in Rohan?” he asked politely.

Éomer turned to face the king, “Greetings, Aragorn,” he said with a false smile. “Thank you for seeing me at such short notice. Things are slowly returning to normal, but there are still a few problems which I am hoping you can help me with.”

“We can discuss them briefly after dinner if you like,” said Aragorn. “Right now I expect you want to bathe and relax. Faramir will show you to your rooms and if you need anything else just ask the guard outside.” With that he made his excuses and left.

“Is Aragorn alright?” asked Éomer as he followed Faramir through the castle. “He seems somewhat distracted.”

“Busy with all the work. You know how it is,” sighed Faramir. “We both have a lot to get done. It seems as though we just get on top of things and something else happens.”

“I am afraid I must return to my study as well,” said Faramir pausing outside a door. “I will see you at dinner,” he added.

“And there I was hoping for a less formal welcome,” teased Éomer, “Maybe later?” Not waiting for an answer he entered his room. It was more of a statement than a question.

---

Dinner had been a rather uneventful affair and the three men retired to Aragorn’s study fairly early in the evening.

Éomer explained that many of their crops had been destroyed by Saruman’s army and that it would be a poor harvest this year. He was hoping that he could trade his horses for some of Gondor’s crops. He went on to say that he hoped the arrangement would continue for a few years because some of the fields were too badly damaged to plant for a while.

The men briefly discussed possible figures for a while before deciding to continue the matter as planned in a meeting the next morning.

Talk quickly turned away from business and before they knew it they were exchanging orc slaying stories and talking about the time before they had fallen into these positions of power they never believed they would have.

Aragorn could not help noticing the looks which Éomer kept throwing in Faramir’s direction. Was there a glimmer of lust in those eyes? “They are just looks,” he told himself. “Poor Faramir seems to be getting more and more uncomfortable. As long as they remain just looks.”

Faramir was desperately trying to ignore the looks. He had enjoyed his brief liaison with Éomer but as far as he was concerned it had been over long ago. He was not interested in a repeat performance and did not want to play Éomer’s games.

Darkness fell and Aragorn, finding himself falling asleep by the fire, decided it was time to retire. Bidding the other men a good night, he got up to depart but found that he was extremely reluctant to leave the two of them alone together. He could not help but pause outside the door to think.

Making a quick decision he decided to stay. Fortunately the men were seated around the fire, with their backs to the door, allowing him to slip back inside the room unnoticed. He settled himself down in the shadows in the corner of the room hiding between the curtains and a bookcase.

“My dear Faramir, you have seemed tense all evening,” said Éomer slipping round the back of the steward’s chair and running his fingers down the other man’s neck before coming to rest his hands upon his shoulders. “Will you let me help you to relax now that we are alone?”

Aragorn watched uneasily as Éomer started to massage Faramir’s shoulders and neck. He noticed the young steward attempting to stand up, obviously uncomfortable at the touch, but the hands kept him firmly in place. Éomer started undoing the fastening at the top of Faramir’s tunic and pushing the material downwards to allow him access to as much flesh as possible.

Faramir tried harder to shrug off Éomer’s hands. “Thank you Éomer, but I am fine, really,” he said “I just need some sleep. Maybe I should retire to my quarters also.” He was not in the least bit tired, but he did not want to be alone with Éomer. It would be just too easy to fall back into the old routine, and it was Aragorn he wanted, not Éomer.

“Do you need any company, my love?” whispered Éomer seductively, just loud enough for Aragorn to hear.

Aragorn just about managed to suppress the growl which was forming in the back of his throat. He was reluctant to give himself away, but at the same time wanted to pin Éomer against the wall with his sword at his throat. He wanted to tell him that Faramir was his and no one else’s, especially not Éomer’s.

Éomer moved back round the chair. He leant over and gently lifted the steward to his feet. Then tenderly he slipped one arm around Faramir’s waist and moved closer towards him, whispering something in his ear. Then he brought his other hand up to rest on the back of Faramir’s head and pulled him close, kissing him softly on the lips.

To Aragorn, the kiss seemed to last forever, and when eventually Éomer broke it off, he kept Faramir close to him, as though reluctant to break his hold.

In the corner, Aragorn was furious. How dare Éomer make a move on his Faramir! And why had the steward just let him? His head started spinning.

“Good night Éomer,” said Faramir forcefully. He broke Éomer’s hold and made to leave, but as he reached the doorway, he turned and added with a smile, “Oh and by the way, my door will be locked, all night. So don’t even try it.”

Éomer grinned, “It’s alright Faramir, you can play hard to get,” he said teasingly, but sounding a little disappointed. “Just do not play too long. Otherwise there will be no time for other games, and I quite clearly remember you enjoying them last time.” With that he left the room, leaving Faramir to put out the fire.

Aragorn felt a sinking feeling in his stomach, “Last time?”

“It can not be true, it can not,” he told himself. Feeling sick he watched Faramir disappear out of the study, leaving him alone and confused in the shadows.

“Why does he shy away from me but allow Éomer to touch him in that way?” he thought sadly. “What does he have that I do not?”

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.”

Chapter 6

Éomer woke first the next morning. He smiled as he felt Faramir’s warm body curled up near him. He could not help but kiss the exposed neck, and move closer to him.

“Good morning, my love,” he whispered in Faramir’s ear when the steward started to stir. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes, thank you,” replied Faramir, turning and giving the other man a gentle kiss on the lips. “You should be leaving now, it is getting late and people will be stirring.”

Éomer groaned and buried his head against his love’s chest.
“Go,” said Faramir sternly. “Before you are missed.”

Reluctantly Éomer rose from the bed and dressed. “I will see you at breakfast,” he said with a smile before planting a final kiss on Faramir’s lips and disappearing out of the room.

Breakfast was well underway when Faramir arrived. He had spent ages trying to find a tunic which would at least partially cover up the bruise on his neck that Éomer had left him from the night before. The attempts had been futile, it was too high up to hide. He just had to hope that it would remain unnoticed, covered by his hair.

He groaned inwardly, realising that the only seat available was next to Aragorn. He did not want to face the king just yet, but he concluded that he could not avoid him altogether and so might as well break the ice and apologise now.

“Good morning, my lord,” he said nervously as he sat down.

Faramir had no need to be worried; Aragorn had instantly regretted his words to him, knowing full well that the young man would put Gondor’s well being above everything else. It had been unfair to suggest otherwise, and the words had only been said out of spite and jealousy.

Anxious to put the whole incident behind them as soon as possible, Aragorn smiled friendlily, “Morning Faramir.”

Seeing Aragorn’s smile, Faramir relaxed instantly. He would still have to apologise, but at least the king did not seem angry with him for yesterday’s disobedience.

“My lord, may I speak with you later about yesterday?”

“We do have to discuss what happened,” agreed Aragorn. “The party from Rohan leaves shortly; we will see them off first.”

Not long after, Faramir once again found himself in Éomer’s embrace. This time however it was not maintained for a second longer than protocol allowed.

“It has been good seeing you again my friend,” said Éomer putting his hands on the steward’s shoulders, earning him another glare from Aragorn who was standing a few steps behind them. “Although I am sorry my visit has been so brief.”

“Ride safely Éomer,” replied Faramir simply and politely.

“Come and visit whenever you like, I am sure Éowyn would be delighted to see you,” said Éomer before breaking his hold on the young man, brushing his hair slightly as he did so, exposing the bruise underneath.

“Mine,” he thought to himself, throwing a smug look in Aragorn’s direction before mounting his horse and riding off to join the rest of the party leaving Faramir and Aragorn alone at the gates of the city.

“I will see you in my study shortly,” said Aragorn before walking away, wanting to compose himself before speaking to Faramir. He had seen the bruise that Éomer had so obviously wanted him to see and once again he was fuming.

When he arrived at his study, Faramir was already standing at his desk waiting. Walking behind the steward to get to his seat, he moved Faramir’s hair to one side, indicating that he had seen the bruise. “I see that you gave Éomer a good send off,” he said disapprovingly as he sat down.

Faramir felt himself shiver in pleasure as Aragorn’s fingers brushed across his neck. Recovering quickly, he focussed on the issue being discussed.

“Yes my lord, I was with Éomer last night,” he replied, as emotionlessly as possible. He prided himself on his honesty; he saw no point in denying it. Despite his attempt at hiding emotion, Aragorn thought he detected a hint of nervousness about the words.

“I am sorry if you feel that it compromises my position in any way, it is not my intention. I would never put any personal liaison before my duty to Gondor.”

Aragorn motioned for Faramir to take a seat and tried desperately to not show his jealousy at the idea of his beloved steward being with anyone but him. “I know that Faramir, and I am sorry I suggested otherwise,” he said, forcing a smile.

Taking a deep breath, he wondered what to say next. He could not simply confess his feeling for the handsome man sitting opposite him, especially when it seemed so obvious that Faramir did not share those feelings.

“It is not that I disapprove of your relationship with Éomer, I merely worry for you. Your positions make it impossible to sustain such a relationship and I do not wish to see you get hurt,” he said slowly and carefully.

“Then you worry unnecessarily my Lord,” said Faramir simply. “I take pleasure from his company and that is all. I will not pine for him now that he is gone.”

“My heart only pines for you” he added silently to himself.

It seemed to Faramir that Aragorn visibly relaxed at being told the relationship was nothing serious. “Is Aragorn jealous?” he thought to himself hopefully. “Is that what it has all been about?”

He was not convinced, but it would make sense, and Aragorn had appeared to be flirting with him out riding the other day. It was definitely something to think about.

“I confess I am pleased to hear that,” said Aragorn. In fact he was highly relieved, but could not help wondering what to do next. He wanted Faramir badly, but could not risk ruining their friendship as he so nearly had with yesterday’s outburst. “Come, let us forget all that has happened these last few days. We have work to do.”

Faramir decided to be daring. He had been trying to avoid Aragorn recently, but now with the suspicion that the king might want to be more than just friends, he had to find out.

“Would you care to join me for a drink this evening Aragorn?” he asked hopefully. “I have a fine bottle of wine I have been saving.”

A huge smile broke out on Aragorn’s face. “Yes, that would be rather nice.”

“I will see you later then,” said Faramir returning the smile and leaving the room.

The first part of the afternoon was spent with Beregond, Captain of the White Company. He had been having difficulties with several members of his company, and Aragorn had asked Faramir to help sort it out. The men in question seemed to be a little over eager for battles and were struggling to adapt to peace time. More importantly they believed that sparring with each other was much more important than attending their duties.

Faramir thought it best to first talk with the men to outline the importance of guard duty. He saw no reason to charge in, take over, and order some horrible punishment. He wanted to give them the chance to do things right.

Meeting the six men later on that day, he made sure they understood the importance of the guard positions they held and the possible consequences of their absence from the posts.
The men had certainly seemed to get the message, and Faramir was quite pleased with himself, although he knew that only time would tell if they really had taken his words on board. “Next time, I will not be anywhere near as nice,” he thought to himself, heading off to dinner.

After dinner, Faramir collected the wine from his quarters, and made his way to Aragorn’s study, the location of many evenings spent together.

Aragorn was already there when the steward arrived, and was just finishing lighting the fire. Faramir stood in the doorway, admiring the figure standing in the firelight. The well fitting tunic showed off his perfect frame and broad shoulders, and the firelight made Aragorn look even more appealing. Faramir could not help but wonder what it would be like to run his fingers through that jet black hair.

“Ah, there you are,” said Aragorn smiling as he turned round and noticed Faramir. “What are you doing standing in the doorway? Come. Sit,” he added, gesturing towards the two comfortable chairs by the fire.

Determined to find out Aragorn’s feelings towards him, Faramir took a decision not to resist all the little touches he would normally try so hard to refrain from.

He allowed his hand to linger when Aragorn took the bottle from his hand, and again when Aragorn passed him a cup of wine. All the while he watched for the other man’s reaction.

Aragorn was pleased with the prolonged contact, but could not help but wonder at Faramir’s sudden change in behaviour, only a few days ago he would have pulled away, seemingly embarrassed at even the slightest touch.

Faramir noticed that Aragorn seemed more than comfortable with the contact, and could not help thinking that he should maybe step up his flirtations a little more.

Returning from their thoughts, both men soon settled down into their usual topics of conversation.

“They insist on asking the most pointless and obvious questions,” moaned Aragorn about his councillors, having had a particularly tedious meeting that afternoon. “They can manage perfectly well without me, but refuse to conduct any business without me being present.” He paused to take a sip from the cup in his hand.

“Maybe they just enjoy your company,” Faramir suggested teasingly. “What would they have to please their eye if you are not there?” with that, he threw Aragorn a shy smile, a hint of desire showing in his eyes.

The words and the look that Faramir gave him caused Aragorn to choke in surprise on his wine. As he was trying to recover from the shock, he felt his cup slip from his hand.

Instantly both men were on their knees, attempting to clean up the red liquid which was spreading across the floor before them. Their hands met on the cup as both reached out at the same moment to pick it up off the floor.

Wine forgotten, neither of the men wanted to move their hands away, enjoying the touch. As their eyes met, both saw desire in the face of the other. Subconsciously they moved their heads closer, narrowing the gap between them, their lips about to meet.

A knock sounded at the door causing both men to pull away abruptly. The spell was broken.

Aragorn went to the door, as Faramir finished mopping up the last of the wine.

After exchanging brief words with the guard who had knocked, Aragorn shut the door and sighed. “I am afraid I have to go. One of the solders hurt himself badly in training today. He has developed quite a fever and the healers want me to take a look,” he explained, looking very reluctant to leave Faramir’s company. “It is likely to be a long night for me. You should take advantage and get an early night for once.”

“Maybe I should,” replied Faramir forcing a smile. He was incredibly disappointed, and knew the moment had gone, their feelings once again remaining unspoken.

Chapter 7

The next few days were very busy. Faramir and Aragorn seemed intent on avoiding each other, neither wanting to approach the subject of what had so nearly happened between them, only to be told it had been a mistake on the other's part; the influence of alcohol, tiredness, or just loneliness.

The more time passed, the more awkward things got between them, with both spending the bare minimum amount of time together.

Aragorn sat in his study, staring at the space he and Faramir had been kneeling that night. He just could not explain the change in the other man's actions towards him. "He is just teasing with me," he reasoned with himself. "He has suddenly realised I want him, and he is making me pay for how I reacted over Éomer."

Deep down, he knew that it was not true; Faramir was too sweet and gentle to extract revenge on anyone. "He simply absorbs all the bad words and actions directed at him, and shows little emotion," thought Aragorn sadly, knowing that Faramir did not show his feelings easily, making him feel even more guilty for avoiding him.

Further along the corridor, Faramir was sitting in his study also, cursing himself for not acting earlier and berating the injured soldier for developing a fever. He was sure that the moment had passed, and Aragorn had doubtlessly come to his senses by now, which would explain the unusual distantness he was currently faced with when talking to the king.

He vaguely wondered if he should just go for it and make a pass at the handsome king. He could not help but entertain thoughts of marching into Aragorn's study right now and kissing him. "I can not make matters any worse," he thought, chuckling to himself. "And if I do, I could always run away and take refuge with Éomer."

---

Aragorn groaned as he read the piece of paper which had just been given to him. It appeared that the guards in the White Company had once again failed to turn up for duty, choosing instead, to visit an ale house.

"I though Faramir said he had dealt with this?" muttered Aragorn angrily. He shut his eyes at the realisation that he was going to have to speak to the steward about it, and worse lecture him about his discipline techniques, because whatever he had done obviously had not worked.

He hated questioning Faramir's ability at anything. He was a more than able steward, but he just did not have enough self worth. Aragorn knew that Faramir would get defensive, and take this as yet another failure, and further proof that he was unfit for his position.

Sighing, he set out to find his steward, eventually tracking him down to a bench in one of the private gardens.

This particular garden had been Faramir's mother's, and was one of his favourite places to escape to when he needed time alone.

On this particular afternoon, Faramir had retreated there in order to reflect on the recent incidents involving Aragorn. He wanted him more than anything, and his dreams had become even more graphic since that night in Aragorn's study. He could not help but feeing that if he kept his feelings to himself much longer, he would explode! He had never felt this way about anyone before.

Loathed to disturb the young man, Aragorn was just about to turn away, reasoning that the matter could wait till later, when Faramir caught sight of him and called him over.

"I am sorry, I did not wish to disturb you," Aragorn explained walking over to where the steward sat.

"It is fine, my Lord," replied Faramir. "I was merely enjoying the sunshine for a while. It is a beautiful day is it not?"

"Very beautiful," said Aragorn absentmindedly, too busy admiring the way the sun's rays highlighted the copper colours in Faramir's hair.

Seeing that Aragorn was clearly distracted by something, Faramir decided to prompt him into saying whatever it was he was going to say, silently hoping it was to be an invite to the king's bed chambers, a thought which caused him to blush. "You wished to speak to me my Lord?"

"Yes. I, errrm," stuttered Aragorn, noticing Faramir's blush and guessing that the young man had obviously noticed him staring. He took a moment to collect his thoughts and to decide what the best way of addressing the issue was, before starting to speak.

"Those guards from the White Company have failed to turn up for duty again," said Aragorn, deciding to get it over with as quickly as possible.

Faramir scowled at the news. "What have they been doing instead?" he inquired, not wanting to know the answer.

"Getting drunk."

Faramir ran his hands over his face, taking a moment to compose himself. He was angry at them, "Aragorn is sure to doubt my ability now," he thought to himself.

"I thought you had dealt with them? You did discipline them, did you not?" asked Aragorn. He was clearly unimpressed with this latest development.

"Yes, I had. Although I only spoke with them, I believed that would be enough, my Lord," replied Faramir reluctantly; knowing full well what was coming next.

"They had been skipping duty, and you chose not to discipline them for it?" Aragorn shook his head in disbelief.

"I did not think my charging in and throwing my weight around would help matters, my Lord," Faramir tried to explain. "They knew full well they would not get away with it again. I will see to it now."

"Well just make sure you actually punish them this time, you can not let them get away with things."

"You need to be a bit more forceful with them, show them who's in charge," pressed Aragorn.

Faramir was annoyed; Aragorn obviously had not listened to his explanation of his actions, or the fact that he had already said they would not get away with it again.

"I never asked for this job my Lord. You should never have given it to me if you were concerned about the amount of discipline among my rangers," spat back Faramir, clearly offended by Aragorn's words. "No one has ever expressed a problem before."

"Faramir, that's not what I meant!" Aragorn responded quickly, growing distressed that Faramir had misinterpreted his words, and so was taking this badly. "It's just that the new recruits don't respect you. And that's only because they don't know you. They see your laid back attitude and think they can get away with things. You need to show them that they can't. Once they know they have to do as they're told then you can adopt your laid back attitude."

"Right, I get it! Forceful. Show them who is boss," Faramir replied angrily. He made to get up, and stopped suddenly. He fought off a smile as a realisation hit him, and looked Aragorn right in the eye as he said forcefully "You miss that don't you? You hate being the one to give the orders all the time. You hate the formalities and people doing whatever you want. Is this really about the recruits or yourself? I can take charge. I will show you. But are you ready for it?"

Faramir strode off angrily and full of purpose, leaving Aragorn to ponder exactly what had been meant by those last words.

It was only once he had turned the corner out of sight that Faramir allowed a slow smile to spread across his face, maybe this could work to his advantage after all.

Chapter 8

That night, Aragorn retired to his chambers early. He had got little work done after his talk with Faramir, distracted by his words. "Am I ready for what?" he asked himself, even more confused than before.

He was just settling into bed when there was a knock at the door. "Who is it?" he growled, throwing on the silk robe hanging over the chair.

"It is Faramir, My Lord. I have an important matter I wish to discuss with you," came his steward's voice from the other side of the door.

"Come in," Aragorn replied annoyed. He was tired, and important matters usually required staying awake most of the night discussing papers and reports.

"This had better be good" he added as Faramir entered and closed the door behind him. It was then he noticed the determined, serious look on his steward's face.

Before he could ask what was wrong, Faramir advanced on him, grabbed a handful of his hair and rammed him against the wall. Before he could recover, he found Faramir's lips against his, and a tongue being shoved violently into his mouth.

When Aragorn failed to respond straight away, Faramir briefly started to worry that he had got it wrong, that he had misread the signs, but was almost immediately relieved when Aragorn started to return his kiss with just as much desire.

There was something else there too. Need.

"Aragorn needs this," Faramir thought to himself.

Breaking off from the kiss, Faramir's mouth moved towards Aragorn's ear, "I hope you are ready," he hissed.

Aragorn's head was spinning. The kiss was far better than anything he had ever imagined. In fact he doubted anyone's imagination could ever think up something so forceful, so passionate and so completely delicious.

Eager for more, he pulled Faramir into another kiss, while one hand tugged at the fastenings on the other man's tunic.

Determined to take things at his own pace, and to savour every last moment, Faramir reached up to stop Aragorn undoing his tunic, but he did not break off the kiss until both men were desperate for air.

Still panting from the kiss, he stepped away from the king, allowing him to take in his perfect form, and causing Aragorn to whimper in distress at the loss of his desire's touch.

Aragorn looked simply stunning in his black robe; the thin material doing nothing to hide his arousal. The look of confusion and anticipation on his face as Faramir simply stood watching him caused the young man to smile.

"Take off your robe," said Faramir after a moment, his voice soft, yet the words coming out as a demand, which made Aragorn both uneasy and even more aroused.

Aragorn moved his hands to the belt which fastened his robe, pausing uncertainly before undoing it, earning an order of "Now!" from Faramir.

He untied the belt, and slipped off the robe to reveal his naked body underneath.

In an attempt to maintain as much dignity as possible; Aragorn walked slowly over to the bed and returned the robe to its usual position, over the chair, before turning to face Faramir once more.

Aragorn's pulse was racing; there was nothing he wanted more than to have the young man touching and kissing him once more.

Faramir's eyes watched him intently, filled with desire. "Perfect," he said smiling, walking over to Aragorn and kissing him passionately once more, knowing that he would never tire of the taste of his soon-to-be-lover's lips.

Aragorn was desperate to remove Faramir's clothing so that he could do some exploring of his own, but was terrified that if he tried to take some control, that Faramir would leave him in this state.

Following Faramir's next order, he lowered himself down onto the bed, using his lower arms to raise himself slightly. He was desperate to know what would happen next. As far as he was concerned, the gorgeous young man in front of him could do whatever he wanted in return for just one more kiss of those sweet lips.

Faramir took his time removing his boots, and then undid the bindings of his tunic, at what seemed to Aragorn to be an excruciatingly slow pace. Eventually he slipped it off, exposing his upper torso, but left his leggings in place.

He guided Aragorn down onto the bed so that he was lying flat, and straddled his thighs.

Leaning in, he gave the king a brief kiss on the lips, before creating a trail of kisses down his neck.

Aragorn groaned softly as the kisses became teasing licks and nips, and brought his hands up to explore the chest above him.

"Do not touch, my love," said Faramir softly as he took Aragorn's hands and firmly placed them back at his sides before continuing his assault on Aragorn's neck and chest.

Reaching a nipple, Faramir gave it a slow sweep with his tongue, before suckling it gently, causing Aragorn to shudder with pleasure.

As the younger man focussed his attention on the other nipple, Aragorn found that he could not resist and longer. He tried to obey but his desire to reach out and touch Faramir was too great. Letting out a soft moan, he brought his hands up once more, and gently ran them down Faramir's back.

Before he could finish the action however, the man above him pulled away and took his wrists in one hand.

Looking around him, Faramir quickly found the sort of thing he was searching for. He took the belt from Aragorn's robe and quickly tied the king's wrists together and to the bed, so that they were resting above his head.

Realising what was happening, Aragorn panicked and quickly tried to pull away. He disliked being tied up, it usually made him feel uncomfortable, but again that night, Faramir's strength surprised him, his grip was too strong, and the knot too tight.

"Please," whimpered Aragorn. "Let me touch you, I have wanted to for so long."

"You should have thought of that before my love," said Faramir softly. "Tonight, you are being punished for questioning my skills of discipline, and for moping around when you could have had me a long time ago. You only had to ask. So for now, you will feel only what I want you to feel."

With that he placed a brief kiss on Aragorn's lips, wanting him to relax and to enjoy the sensations being stowed upon him. In truth, Faramir was desperate to be touched, his shaft crying out to be released from his leggings into those heavenly lips of the king's, but he was determined to wait just a little longer.

The smile on the steward's face and the look of mischief in his eyes calmed Aragorn down immediately. He trusted Faramir completely and knew deep down that he would have plenty of other opportunities for all the things he wanted to do. With all uncertainty gone, he was more than happy for the other man to have control. He had never surrendered so completely to anyone, and found it positively arousing.

So far, Faramir had avoided his weeping shaft, but Aragorn knew that it would not take much more to push him over the edge.

"Turn over. On your knees," ordered Faramir, who had moved away to remove his own leggings, exposing his own hardened shaft.

At that moment, Aragorn wanted nothing more than to take it into his mouth and to taste the man he desired so much. His bindings, however, did not allow it, and he had no choice but to follow Faramir's command.

Faramir knelt between Aragorn's parted knees and gently bestowed kisses down his spine, causing Aragorn to shudder. He moved his hands down Aragorn's sides until they came to rest on the king's well toned behind.

Aragorn tensed as he felt his buttocks being moved apart and mentally prepared himself to be breached, but the hot, moist sensation of Faramir's tongue which followed, completely surprised him.

Faramir's tongue danced around Aragorn's entrance, occasionally sweeping over it, causing him to moan in anticipation.

Sensing Aragorn was close, Faramir stepped up his assault flicking his tongue in and out of the tight ring of muscle causing Aragorn to buck in delight.

"Gods Faramir," groaned the king. "I can not take much more."

"Then come for me my love," replied Faramir.

Hearing that final demand was all that was needed, Aragorn's legs buckled from under him as he came hard, causing him to collapse as a feeling of release and pleasure passed though him.

"That was," panted Aragorn, desperately trying to get some words out to form a sentence, but failing completely. "That was... Mmm"

Faramir untied Aragorn's hands, before pulling him close and kissing his neck, allowing him some time to recover.

It did not take long for a new sense of urgency engulfed Aragorn. Quickly reversing their positions he took Faramir's erection into his mouth. He swallowed the whole length and then pulled away. As he repeated the action several times Faramir moaned.

It was all the steward could do not to thrust himself further into Aragorn's mouth. He tried to pull away as he felt the control slipping from him. "Let me take you Aragorn, my love," he said softly.

"Yes, I want to feel you inside me," responded Aragorn, unable to hide the desire in his voice.

Faramir smiled, and moved to retrieve a small vial of oil from his tunic. Opening it, he spread a few drops over his fingers and placed the bottle on the side.

Closing the gap which had appeared between them, Faramir claimed Aragorn's mouth again, demonstrating every bit of passion and desire which had been present in their first kiss of the evening.

Aragorn moaned into the kiss as he felt an oily finger slide into his entrance.

Faramir added another finger and continued stretching the ring of muscle by moving them in a scissoring motion, however it was his turn to groan when Aragorn started running his tongue down his sensitive neck.

He brushed the tips of his fingers across Aragorn's prostate, and soon they were moaning in unison.

"Please Faramir, take me now," begged Aragorn. "I can not bear to wait any longer."

Faramir's heart jumped, he had wanted to hear those words for a long time, and had decided that afternoon in the garden that he was going to hear Aragorn beg before the night was through.

He quickly added a third finger, not wanting to take the other man before he was fully prepared.

"Gods please, make me yours," whimpered Aragorn, bucking as Faramir swept over his sweet spot once more.

Not wanting to wait any longer, Faramir removed his fingers, and once again picked up the vial of oil, this time spreading some of the contents over his weeping shaft.

Pressing the tip of his erection at Aragorn's entrance, he found himself pulled into another kiss, and slowly breached his lover below him. As he felt the muscles tighten around him, he stopped, allowing Aragorn to adjust to the intrusion, before sheathing himself fully.

"Move love, please,"

At Aragorn's words, Faramir started to thrust, slowly at first, and then increasing his pace as his desire started to overwhelm him.

Aragorn moved his hips upwards to meet each thrust, and let out an erotic cry as Faramir adjusted his position, causing him to hit Aragorn's prostate again and again.

Faramir knew that he would not last much longer, and anxious that they peak together, he wrapped a hand around the king's shaft and imitated every thrust he made.

As all control was lost, his thrusts became more irregular and more forceful, slamming into Aragorn as hard as he could. He felt the muscles around him tighten, and a final thrust pushed him over the edge.

They came together, crying out each other's names. Neither of them would ever forget the expressions of pure bliss visible on their faces, and no words were needed between them.

Exhausted, they soon drifted off to sleep, holding each other close, knowing they had finally found their hearts' desire.

The End

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