Faramir Fiction Archive

After the War (NC-17)

Written by Petrel

01 August 2005 | 6614 words | Work in Progress

Chapter 2

Faramir pushed his hair back out of his eyes and smiled. His opponent was watching him warily a few feet away.

“You are skilled with a blade,” the soft voice said.

“A ranger must carry both blade and bow” Faramir replied, circling round trying to draw the other fighters’ attention.

Haldir grimaced and shifted his grip, elves also had to carry blades as well as bow but he was unused to the single straight sword the Edain used. He changed his stance forcing himself to forget the unfamiliar weight and heft, to remember the movements of feet and body. He feinted to one side then stepped back, blades engaging as Faramir lunged forward.

They danced like that, Haldir’s superior strength and grace balanced by his unfamiliarity with this form of swordplay. Blades met and slid against each other with the faint sound of steel, like a lovers kiss that draws blood with its sharp edged promises.

From the shadows Boromir watched, they looked achingly beautiful, so golden and young. Faramir’s red-gold hair pulled back with a light tie, Haldir’s mithril fair hair in contrast still hanging loose held only with two warrior braids. Boromir sucked in a breath as they circled round again and he realised that Haldir was dressed similarly to the human in a linen shirt and close fitting breeches. The light clothing left very little to the imagination, and it made an obvious lie of the belief that all elves were like slender maids or half-grown lads. Haldir’s shoulders were near as broad as Faramir’s, the elf was a touch taller but they were much of a size otherwise. Faramir still too thin to his brothers eyes from the long illness, but there was lean muscle under the golden skin and his eyes glowed with health and happiness now.

Boromir felt that stab of envy and anger again, //what right did this arrogant elf have to come in and……// his thoughts trailed off there, //and make your brother happy?// a little voice asked sarcastically. He shook his head angrily and turned away slightly, but then a soft breathless laugh drew his attention unwillingly back to the scene before him.

Haldir had the advantage and was slowly pressing Faramir back. The elf’s fair face was alive with the joy of the sparring match, his body moving so gracefully that you could almost forget how deadly the dance could be.

Faramir gave ground again, falling back across the room. Boromir frowned. Faramir was a better fencer than this, he had taught him himself. He was defending only not attacking, not taking the match seriously. There was a flurry of blades and then both broke off circling around each other so the hidden watcher caught glimpses first of his brothers flushed and smiling face and then of the fair features of the elf.

Boromir knew he should leave, the two thought they were alone, they had no doubt chosen this smaller practise room instead of the main fencing galleries deliberately so they might have this time in private……..but he could not. The sheer eroticism of the scene, the light sheen of sweat on both faces, the flashes of skin tantalisingly revealed by the loose lacings of their shirts all combined to root him to the spot. His breath seemed to echo the breathing of the fighters, coming quicker and harsher as they moved. Long lean legs circling round, parting and crossing paths so smoothly until it seemed that they were dancing not fighting.

They were on the far side of the room now, and still Haldir pressed forward, Faramir seemed to make little effort to defend, only stepping back each time, yielding the ground to his opponent almost eagerly. Faramir’s legs took another step back, and another and then his slim hips were pressed against the cabinet of swords along one side of the wall.

//strike// Boromir urged him silently, //now while he is distracted, as he steps forward to take your blade// But the blue steel lowered, fell to Faramir’s side. He leant further back, stretching his body out, Boromir could see his chest heaving, his eyes glinting up at his opponent as he deliberately let the blade clatter to the floor.

His brother yielding, head thrown back in submission, his opponent leaning forward past the sharp steel at his throat. Boromir’s body ached, he felt the sharp tang of sweat and blood in the air, the feeling of exultation at being victor in the fight against a worthy opponent.

The red gold head tipped back and the sharp blade swept up and sheared off a lock of hair.

Pressed back hard against the unforgiving wood, unarmed, his hair dishevelled, Faramir should have looked defeated. He looked elated. Boromir’s breath caught in his throat painfully, Haldir was lowering the blade, leaning forward.

“Your brother watches us” he whispered his breath fanning Faramir’s cheek.

Faramir’s eyes were bright as he looked up, “I know”

Their eyes met, Haldir searched and found the answer he was looking for in Faramir’s sparkling blue gaze. His free hand came to rest on Faramir’s hip and he turned them slightly so their silent watcher would see the soft bulge in the tight breeches. Faramir’s legs parted, and one slim elven leg shifted and slid between them.

Boromir leant back against the wall gasping, his knees weak. His hand strayed to his groin, his legs parted in unconscious imitation of his brother stance, and as Haldir’s breath ghosted over one brother’s skin the other felt its light touch.

Haldir’s hand drifted up, catching Faramir’s chin and tilting his head back. For a long moment the scene was frozen like that, and it lingered longer behind Boromir’s tightly closed eyes as he frantically tried to calm his aching body, his hands clenched at his side. He did not dare watch them kiss, as he was sure they would, could not bear to feel the hard arrogant mouth of the elf descending onto his brother’s soft lips.

Their eyes met in perfect understanding, and Haldir smiled. He dropped his hand and stepped back a fraction so their bodies were no longer touching, just separated by the thinnest of slivers of air. “Perhaps you would care to take your brother’s place Boromir?” He said clearly but softly.

The voice slid into Boromir’s fuddled mind and his eyes snapped open. Emotion choked the words in his throat, he longed to deny it, to call out and challenge the elf, to wipe the arrogant smile from his face……………… to run away and hide.

Then the elf stepped back and the two figures turned with shaming accuracy to where he stood in the shadows. Haldir held his sword lightly, looking perfectly cool and unreachable as he made a slight bow in Boromir’s direction and said calmly. “My Lord Steward has a prior appointment, perhaps you Captain would do me the honour of continuing the match?”

His cheeks burning Boromir managed to straighten his clothing and step out, unwilling to trust his voice he nodded curtly to the pair.

Faramir turned, picked up his sword and bowed to Haldir, “my thanks Haldir for the match, I am sure my brother will be happy to spar with you.” His voice too was unbelievably level and calm. At that moment Boromir came close to hating his beloved brother. Faramir smiled sunnily at them both and strode out of the room picking up his discarded tunic as he went.

“Come Boromir, I have learnt great respect for your skill with the arts of war, I look forward to testing those skills for myself” Haldir spoke over his shoulder as he moved to the side picking up a water canteen and drinking from it. Turning he held it out to Boromir, “you look a little flushed Boromir, would you drink?”

Boromir suppressed the growl in his throat and turned away, striding over to the rack of swords and selecting one. Moving swiftly he pulled off his heavy tunic and turned to face Haldir, the heavier broadsword held in both hands. Stormy green eyes met calm grey and Boromir bowed mockingly

“Shall we?” he would wipe out the memory of the shaming betrayal of his body with steel.

This match was nothing like the graceful dance that had played out only moments earlier. Boromir was more a match for Haldir’s strength although he lacked some of his lighter brothers grace. He did not try to play the elegant game of courtly fencing however, he stood feet firmly planted, his strong arms wielding the heavier blade, making his own beauty out of the play of muscle under skin, the controlled strength and the promise of violence.

It was a beauty Haldir appreciated even as he found himself fighting harder and faster in order to keep the match evenly balanced. They had been sparring for some minutes and Boromir showed no signs of loosing the scowl that darkened his features and tightened his shoulders. //Time to see what will get under his skin.// the elf thought with a hidden smile.

“Your brother fights well, he has a certain …. grace that is often lacking in mortal men”

His only response was a slight widening of the eyes and a redoubled ferocity of attack from Boromir.

Unflustered Haldir met the attack and for a brief moment he showed his true strength, meeting Boromir blade for blade. Green eyes widened and then narrowed but before Boromir could make it a match of brute force Haldir spun to one side and there was nothing there for Boromir to fight against.

Boromir swore under his breath cursing the elusiveness of elves. He was further disconcerted when the light mocking voice spoke from behind him. “If I had known you were so eager to have me within your grasp Boromir of Gondor perhaps we would have done this sooner”

Boromir actually growled at that, he spun around, more lightly than a casual observer would have thought given his size. The elf was standing there with a mocking smile on his face but a challenging gleam in his eye, asking a question Boromir wasn’t prepared to answer. When their blades met again there was no holding back. The room was filled with a frighteningly fast whirl of steel and fury, but slowly, ever so slowly Boromir was giving ground. Haldir was faster, more agile and just as strong, and he’d lost his unease with the unfamiliar blade.

Their blades met again and slid down, locking at the hilt, full body lock. For the long time neither moved, but inch-by-inch Boromir found himself being pushed back, the blades lowered, still locked between their bodies.

Then Boromir’s eyes widened as he felt the wood pressed into his back. For a moment he couldn’t move or react seeing his brother and Haldir has they had been half an hour earlier. That moment was all Haldir needed and a split second later Boromir found himself in exactly that position, his blade spinning away across the floor, leaning back to avoid the sharp steel at his throat.

Haldir stood there, breathing was hardly changed, his pale skin untouched by the hectic flush, which stained the humans cheeks.

“Is it your custom to spy on the private moments of others?” Haldir asked in a silky voice.

“How did you know?” Boromir asked raggedly.

A single arced eyebrow rose even higher, “it was your brother who sensed you Boromir, he knew when you arrived.” The cold mouth twitched, “elves may have superior senses but even I can’t distinguish the smell of one sweating and aroused Gondorian brother from another so easily.”

Boromir opened his mouth but no words came out, he flushed even more painfully but was unable to deny the elf’s words. He was reluctantly grateful for the fact that Haldir chose not to underline his point, as he could have so easily done with a single glance down at Boromir’s straining breeches.

“Although I would remark that your brother is far more ….open than you when it comes to declaring his feelings.”

Boromir reacted angrily to that, ignoring the insinuation that he also desired Haldir he focused on what he perceived as a slight to his brother. “Faramir is no mere toy for you elf, he deserves more than to be a plaything. Elves may whore themselves to any who ask but my brother is a man, and he is Steward of Gondor, I warn you, do not trifle with him or treat him with contempt.”

There was a mocking laugh, “you are very protective of your brother are you not? Do you not think him capable of fighting his own battles?”

Haldir leant closer, until his breath brushed Boromir’s cheek, “and do not presume to insult me by insinuating that I have any less care and affection for Faramir than you yourself do.”

Boromir watched mesmerised as the perfect features of the elf came even closer.

Haldir’s voice was silky as he continued speaking, “but I have only one question for you Boromir of Gondor, Which of us were you watching?”

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