Faramir Fiction Archive

A Yuletide Gift (NC-17)

Written by Gondorbunny

22 December 2006 | 4125 words

Written for the 2006 Midwinter Swap.

Request by Kissa: I would like to read a Faramir/Rúmil fic, one where it’s Yule and young Ranger Faramir finds a lost elf in the woods. The elf has barely come of age and has never left the safety of Lórien before, so now he’s lost and scared. It’s too late and too cold to walk back to Lórien, but our favorite Ranger appears and rescues Rúmil. I would like them to be cute, act like the youngsters they are (and at least one of them to have his first time!). Oh, and it has to be a fluffy, sweet NC17! Pretty please with Rangers on top!

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A chill wind was blowing down from the mountains, but the young ranger on patrol in the forests of Ithilien simply drew his woolen cloak more tightly about his shoulders and went on.

The ranger was none other than Faramir, the younger son of the Steward of Gondor, and it was his turn to do the tour of duty in this region of the forest. Even though there had been no sign of trouble for many long months, Gondor was ever aware of the shadow that dwelt just eastward of their borders, and so did not risk letting down their guard for even a moment.

The land was quiet other than the rustle of the wind through the trees and the occasional call of a bird high up in the branches, and Faramir had little to distract him as he trudged on, his alert blue eyes scanning the maze of conifers and elms.

He tilted his gaze skyward and noted the position of the sun, lowering toward the western horizon. Evening was drawing near and his turn of duty was nearly over. It was time to head back to Osgiliath for food and rest. The Yule feast was tomorrow and he was looking forward to spending the festive season with his beloved brother.

Just then, his highly attuned ears picked up a faint sound. It was almost lost beneath the steady gust of the wind, but he was sure he had heard it. He paused, listening attentively. There it was again. A choked sound. A sound of distress.

Instantly, years of training as a ranger kicked in, and Faramir immediately began to move in the direction of the sound. Stiff pine branches slapped his face as he moved through them, eschewing the worn footpaths on the forest floor in favor of finding the most direct route.

Soon he came to a clearing where a large ice sheet sloped down toward another dark grove of trees. Just a few weeks ago, this ice sheet had been a large, deep pond in the center of the forest. Now, however, it was a white, featureless surface, broken only by the figure floundering near its far edge. All Faramir could see was waving arms and long golden hair, turned a bit darker by the water that penetrated it.

Instantly, Faramir was racing around the edge of the ice toward the helpless figure, his mind both on how best to be of service, and also wondering at the same time what on earth a maiden was doing out here in the woods alone at this time of the evening.

It was only when Faramir had drawn closer and could clearly see the distressed person before him that his wonderment turned to outright shock. It was no maiden before him. It was an elf. The delicately pointed ears and high cheekbones were unmistakable.

Then in the next moment, Faramir was shaking off his wonderment and reaching into his pack, pulling out a coil of rope that he had there. Time was of the essence. There was no telling how long the elf had been trapped in that frigid water, and Faramir knew well that although elves were much hardier and longer-lived than human beings, they were not invulnerable to the extremes of heat and cold. If left too long, the elf would die of hypothermia as easily as he himself would.

“Calm yourself,” Faramir shouted to the elf. “I am going to get you out of there.”

Despite his obvious fear, the elf appeared to understand Faramir’s words, for his struggles became less desperate and his frantic motions slowed. His sharp blue eyes watched attentively as Faramir made a sturdy slip loop at the end of the rope, then threw it with uncanny skill and accuracy straight to the elf’s outstretched hands.

“Tighten that loop about your waist and I shall pull you out,” Faramir instructed. The elf did as he was told, and Faramir was relieved to note that although the elf was chilled, he still had full use of his arms and his wits were definitely intact.

Bracing himself against a sturdy tree, Faramir hauled on the rope with all of his strength, watching as the slim body of the elf slowly emerged from the hole in the ice and then slid across its white surface. He continued to tug until the elf had reached the edge of the ice and was able to crawl away under his own power, finally coming to a halt about ten feet away from where Faramir stood, shivering and breathing heavily.

Moving swiftly, Faramir drew an extra cloak from his pack and approached the exhausted figure on the ground. He spread the woolen garment over the elf’s shoulders, and heard the elf utter a soft word of thanks as he did so.

“You rest for a moment. I am going to start a fire,” Faramir said, and as he moved back to his pack he could feel his wonderment returning. It was enough for the possibility of a woman out here in the wilderness alone, but an elf? That was a rare thing indeed.

Faramir decided that he would have to get to know this elf a bit better as soon as he was dry and warm.

“I am grateful to you for saving my life,” the elf murmured as he sat by the fire, a cup of warmed mead cradled between his delicate hands. “Please…May I have your name?”

Faramir smiled gently. “I am Faramir, and ‘tis fortunate that I happened upon you. We do not often patrol this area of the forest. It might have been days before anyone ventured so far.”

The elf shivered slightly, “Yes, most fortunate,” he agreed. He sipped at the cup, and then lifted his head to look at Faramir squarely. “My name is Rúmil, of Lórien.”

Faramir’s eyes widened. “Lórien? That is a long way from these lands. What brought you here to Gondor?”

“I was traveling with my brothers,” Rúmil said. “We had been sent by the Lady of the Wood to scout along the borders of Mordor and see if any ill intentions could be seen. We do many such duties for the Lady and her Lord when it is needed.” He paused, and his expression turned dark as he continued, “but in my inexperience and the unfamiliarity of these lands, I became separated from my brothers. I had no idea which way to go. I wandered for a night and a day, and finally stumbled upon the frozen pond which broke beneath my weight.”

“So you know not where your brothers are now?” Faramir asked.

Rúmil sighed and stared down into his cup, his expression sad. “I will hope they have returned to Lórien. They had no reason to believe me still alive. Not after so much time and no sign of my whereabouts.” He shook his head in exasperation. “It was foolish of me to wander on my own to begin with. My brothers were right to leave me.”

“I doubt they have abandoned you,” Faramir said, and as he spoke, he realized that the elf before him was even lovelier than he had first imagined. Maybe it was the complete lack of self-assuredness that elves normally displayed. The wounded expression in the eyes.

“Why do you say that?” Rúmil asked. “I am curious.”

“Because my brother would never abandon me, no matter how foolish I believed my actions to be. I do not believe your brothers would be any different,” Faramir said, his voice soft.

There was a thoughtful pause by the elf, and then the corners of his mouth turned up into a shy smile. “Your words comfort me, Faramir of Gondor. I did not believe men to have such wisdom, but you are unlike any other man I have encountered.”

A companionable silence fell between the two of them, and for a long moment there was no sound except for the rustle of the breeze through the trees and the crackling of the fire. Faramir glanced around at their surroundings, and then decided to take the opportunity to again study his newfound friend.

As he turned to look at Rúmil, however, he was surprised to see that all along, the elf had been actually watching him. As soon as Rúmil caught Faramir’s gaze, however, he quickly dropped his gaze, turning away as if distracted by something out in the forest. If Faramir’s eyes had not been deceiving him, he would have sworn that a blush crept over the elf’s face in that split second.

Faramir held his ground, watching Rúmil closely, and soon the elf turned his head slowly back toward him. He glanced almost surreptitiously at the ranger before murmuring, “forgive me. I do not have much contact with humans. In my curiosity, I seem to have forgotten my manners.”

Shaking his head defenselessly, Faramir smiled. “No need for forgiveness. I, too, am equally curious about you. I have seen few elves in my lifetime, and even less from such a close proximity. You are…”

Suddenly Faramir broke off, almost seeming to force himself to stop speaking. He pressed his lips together and glanced away. When he spoke again, his tone was so deliberately light and carefree that it rang false to the elf’s ears.

“’Tis getting late. I think it would be best if we made camp here tonight, and in the morning we may travel together to Osgiliath and perhaps we can reunite you with your brothers from there.”

Rúmil nodded, though he was still watching Faramir closely. What had the man been about to say before he stifled himself? How intriguing these humans were. At least this one was, in particular.

For now, however, it was time to think of the practical things; helping Faramir to fix a makeshift shelter for the two of them. Rúmil immediately rose and began to assist, trying to keep his mind on the task at hand, and not about how the idea that he would be sleeping in close proximity to this man sounded particularly tantalizing.

It was perhaps three quarters of the way to dawn by Rúmil’s internal clock when he felt a sensation like someone running their fingers through his hair. No, it was not like someone was doing that, someone actually was doing it. Faramir.

Rúmil shifted his head slightly, trying to catch a glimpse of the man sleeping behind him. Faramir, realizing the elf was now awake, suddenly pulled his hand back as if burned.

“No,” Rúmil said suddenly, turning toward Faramir. “You do not need to cease. I…I was just wondering what you were doing.”

Faramir chewed lightly at his full lower lip in a nervous sort of way. “I just…I had to touch your hair. It is like the silk of a newly spun cocoon. Like the sunshine on the meadow. No maiden’s hair that I have ever seen has been so lovely.”

Rúmil felt his heartbeat increase in his chest. This man’s words were so eloquent. His manner so gentle. All of his relatively short life… for at 2000 years old, he was just coming of age as far as his own people were concerned… Rúmil had been told by his elder brother Haldir how men were most often coarse, brutish, and warlike. Creatures such as they were best avoided, Haldir had said. They do nothing but fight amongst themselves and spoil the land and her treasures in their greed and ignorance.

This man, however, was like nothing Haldir or any other elf had ever spoken of before.

He was… Well… Almost elf-like.

So wrapped up in his thoughts, Rúmil did not come to the realization that they had been lying here side by side just looking at one another until Faramir suddenly leaned forward and pressed his mouth to the elf’s.

For the first time in his life, Rúmil was utterly stunned. He had been kissed before, but never by a man, and never with a man’s passion. It was galvanizing.

Just as quickly, however, Faramir was pulling back, looking almost frightened by what he had done.

“Forgive me, Rúmil. I…”

Before he could utter another word, however, Rúmil had hooked a hand around the back of his neck and drawn him down into another kiss. The elf had no earthly idea what he was doing or what might come next, but he did know that he did not want it to stop.

Faramir, for his part, felt positively dizzy with desire. He had experienced such a feeling before, of course. His encounters with various young ladies and even with a couple of young men in his time had well versed him in the art of passion. This time, however, it was like nothing he had ever experienced.

He slid closer to Rúmil, never losing the contact of his mouth as he did so. His hands slid over the sleek body, encouraging the elf to move closer to him as well, which Rúmil did without hesitation.

Whatever differences there might be between their races, there were some things that were definitely the same, for as Faramir slipped his leg up between those of the elf, he could feel the hardness of the elf’s erection against his thigh. This in turn increased Faramir’s need all the more, and his kisses grew rougher and more desperate.

Rúmil’s mind was spinning out of control as sensations he had never known existed whirled and careened through his body. He pressed himself even closer to Faramir, a sound between a sigh and a whimper escaping from his throat.

Faramir moved his body partially over that of the elf, his hands sliding down to slip beneath the tunic he wore. Rúmil gasped as calloused fingers moved across his bare skin, exciting him still further. He arched his hips desperately, his need driving him to beg silently for more contact.

Smiling against the elf’s lips, Faramir decided to throw caution to the wind and fulfill the inexperienced elf’s wishes. He slipped his hand lower, beneath the waist band of the leggings Rúmil wore, and the elf stiffened and moaned appreciatively as Faramir wrapped knowing fingers around his hardened length.

“Is this all right?” Faramir asked softly, already guessing what the answer would be, but wanting all the same to make sure that the elf did not feel rushed or violated in any way. It suddenly seemed unforgivable to Faramir that any distress whatsoever be brought upon this lovely creature in his arms.

His eyelids fluttering with passions he barely understood, Rúmil nodded. His slender fingers clutched tighter to Faramir’s body, almost seeming to anchor against him against the torrent of unusual sensations coursing through his body.

Now seeing the utter compliance of the elf, Faramir’s own desire leaped up yet another notch, and he suddenly realized that his own body was begging for contact as surely as Rúmil’s was.

Laying a path of hot kisses down the elf’s white throat, feeling the pulse beneath his lips, Faramir reached down with his free hand to swiftly unlace his own breeches. Then he gently took Rúmil’s hand in his own, and guided it toward the opening.

“Touch me, Rúmil,” Faramir purred against the pointed shell of the elf’s ear. Rúmil looked uncertain, but certainly willing to make the effort. Slowly, he reached into the breach of Faramir’s breeches and cautiously stroked his hand over the turgid flesh of Faramir’s erection.

When Faramir moaned softly in response to his actions, Rúmil suddenly became less tentative and much bolder. His hand grasped Faramir firmly, and now mimicked what Faramir’s hand was doing to his own straining member, stroking it with slow movements.

“Dear gods, Rúmil,” Faramir gasped. “You are a natural at this. Were elves not known for their honesty, I would think you had been deceiving me about your inexperience in matters of passion.”

Rúmil smiled at Faramir’s compliment, at the same time that he was arching hard into Faramir’s hand. He wanted more contact. More stimulation. More of him.

“Faramir,” Rúmil groaned. “Please. I…”

“Shhh,” Faramir whispered, brushing the elf’s lips with his own. “I know what you need, my lovely.”

With that, he removed his hand from Rúmil’s erection and slowly slid the elf’s leggings down from his hips, finally whisking them off completely. The tunic soon followed, as did Faramir’s own clothing. Soon by the flickering firelight were two naked bodies that lay on their sides facing one another. One was white as the lily and smooth as the moonlight. The other darkened by travels beneath the sun and roughened by toil.

Rúmil looked with wonder at Faramir unclothed. He ran his fingers through the dusting of dark golden hair that covered the man’s chest, sighing as Faramir wrapped an arm around his waist and drew him closer, pressing their erections together.

“What is it you would like?” Faramir asked softly, his eyes flickering over the unearthly perfection of the elf’s features.

It took Rúmil only a couple of seconds to voice his answer. “Just you,” he said softly. “All of you. As much as you can give to me, I will gladly accept.”

Faramir sighed, feeling an unutterable happiness steal over him. At the same time, however, he wanted to make sure that Rúmil understood what he was requesting.

“To take all I have to give you will cause some discomfort to you at first,” he cautioned. “I want you to be certain that this is what you wish, for it would disturb me greatly to cause you any pain without your full consent.”

Rúmil swallowed hard, but the determination in his expression never wavered. “I do not fear pain,” he said quietly. “Tonight I only fear being left alone in the cold again. Do not shut me out, Faramir. Share yourself with me. I give myself willingly to you.”

Faramir was not sure if his heart or his erection would burst first from the elf’s words. Never in his life had he wanted another creature so desperately. He knew he must temper his desire somewhat, however, and set about preparing Rúmil for what was to come.

Reaching for his pack, Faramir drew out a vial of honing oil and unstoppered it. Allowing Rúmil to watch every move he made, he poured some of the oil into his hand, coating his fingers liberally, and then set the vial aside.

Sitting astride Rúmil, he encouraged the elf to roll onto his stomach. “Relax,” Faramir murmured encouragingly. Then he slowly began to stroke his oil-coated fingers up and down the cleft of the elf’s buttocks, at the same time using his other hand to match the same rhythm in a soothing manner up and down Rúmil’s back.

Rúmil hummed contentedly, and Faramir felt the elf’s entire body relax beneath his touch. It was then that he knew it was time for the next step. Still never ceasing the gentle stroking along the elf’s back, he began to slowly push one finger against the tiny entrance to Rúmil’s body.

The feeling was so foreign to Rúmil that he automatically tightened his muscles against Faramir’s intrusion.

“Relax,” Faramir cautioned again, his soothing voice overriding the feelings of alarm that Rúmil could feel growing in the pit of his stomach. He made a conscious effort to relax, earning an approving murmur from the ranger.

The sensation of being filled grew as Faramir now slid another finger within him, gently thrusting and opening the elf by steady degrees, and at the time it also excited him intensely. When Rúmil began to actually push back a bit against the fingers that breached him, Faramir responded by slowly increasing the pace and depth of his thrusts. When he brushed the elf’s prostrate, Faramir was rewarded with a soft cry of exhilaration and felt the lithe body shudder appreciatively beneath him.

“That is only the beginning, my dear elf,” Faramir purred, as Rúmil looked back at him with dazed eyes. “I believe you are ready for what comes next.”

“Yes, please,” Rúmil begged softly.

At once Faramir withdrew his fingers and reached again for the vial. His erection was now aching in anticipation, but his patience overrode his desire and his vow to not hurt Rúmil anymore than was necessary. Working with swift, economical gestures, Faramir swiftly coated his stiff length with the oil. Then he moved behind Rúmil, encouraging the elf to rise onto his knees.

Guiding himself to the elf’s opening, Faramir moved with the tiniest of motions, breaching Rúmil’s body as gently as he could.

Immediately the elf stiffened and whimpered at the strange, slightly painful sensation. Instantly Faramir ceased his movements. He was barely a quarter of the way inside the elf, and primal need was starting to seriously override gentle intentions. However, he did not need to worry because despite the elf’s reactions, he looked over his shoulder at his newfound lover.

“Do not stop, Faramir.” Rúmil whispered anxiously, his blue eyes holding Faramir’s.

“I do not believe I could stop now even if I wished to,” Faramir confessed, laughing a trifle shakily. He grasped Rúmil’s hips firmly and continued the inexorable slide forward, thrilling at the tightness of the elf’s virgin passage and the heat of his body.

Once completely sheathed within Rúmil, Faramir paused, using his forearm to wipe away the sweat that beaded up on his forehead. Then, without any further hesitation, he began to move his hips in a steady rocking motion.

“Oh Faramir,” Rúmil sighed, his eyes fluttering closed and his head bowing as pleasure swiftly began to outshine the pain he had formerly been feeling.

“Gods, you feel incredible,” Faramir murmured, his voice deepened with passion, his hands gripping the white flesh beneath him even tighter as his motions increased.

‘Harder’ urged Rúmil. He suddenly felt that Faramir could never be deep enough within him. He wanted him to possess him completely. “Please, Faramir. I need more of you.”

The elf’s words inflamed Faramir who did as he was asked. He angled his thrusts slightly differently and was thrilled to hear his lover cry out again as his sweet spot was stimulated yet again. Faramir wished that this could continue even further, but the combination of the elf’s deliciously welcoming body and his heated reactions were driving him swiftly toward his release.

Unwilling to reach his own peak before the elf had experienced his, however, Faramir slid his hand beneath Rúmil’s hip, never ceasing his steady thrusts as he did so, and wrapped his hand around the elf’s erection.

Rúmil gasped as Faramir began to stroke him in time to his thrusts, and it did not take long before the elf was uttering his final cry of ecstasy as his release spurted hot torrents over the man’s fingers.

“My beautiful one,” Faramir whispered, the words almost like a prayer as he pistoned in and out of the elf’s body a few more times before finally following Rúmil into the sweet abyss. He groaned and held tightly to his lover as he emptied himself within him.

Utterly spent, Faramir withdrew from the elf’s body and collapsed onto the pallet beside him. Immediately, he was gathering Rúmil into his arms, holding him closely as the two of them swung slowly down to earth from the heights they had both reached.

Many minutes ticked by, and Faramir wondered if the elf had not fallen asleep when Rúmil finally spoke.

“About finding my brothers when the dawn comes…”

“Oh yes, without delay,” Faramir said immediately. “I would not want you to be separated from your kinfolk for long.”

Rúmil raised his head to look at Faramir, his blue eyes twinkling mischievously as he smiled and said, “No, I was just going to say that, if you wish, we need not hurry to do so once we reach Osgiliath. I am sure there are parts of that city I will need to be acquainted with before I start for home, after all.”

Faramir laughed softly. “So you shall, my dear elf. So you shall.”

THE END.

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