Faramir Fiction Archive

Thank you, Sherry, for your kind comment! An update will be here soon :)

I am, in fact, in New Zealand – but not too far from you, I suppose, at least in relative terms ;)

Eora, here’s my overdue reply and thanks. Also,the story’s becoming longer thanI initially intended, tee-hee. Not plotwise, I’m still keeping to the original concept, but details and nuances add themselves here and there, and I feel that for the sake of readability and a more or less regular update schedule, there should be a couple more parts. Anyways, I’m glad you appreciate the particular mood :) Much as I love spark-spitting fires of lust, sometimes I’m drawn to more thoughtful and complex moods, even not without sadness in places… I hope you like the latest developmetns ;)

Raven, thank you so much for that thoughtful comment! It made me happy in so many ways, for you address specifically the points I was worried about when writing this. Hence, you must forgive my enthusiastic ranting :)

As you say, ‘happily ever afters’ can pose a lot of questions. Personally, I think there’s no such thing as an inherently perfect marriage where everybody is happy all the time simply by virtue of default. There’s always some kind of issue in place – and, well, I always felt that in the case of Ar and Ar, there could be any number of things.

He may have grown up among Elves, but I don’t think it would necessarily mean he would know all the specifics of an Elven marriage, given some things are likely to be kept private in the Elven culture. Furthermore, I can easily allow the possibility that Arwen would focus on the platonic aspects of love, since a) for 3000 years she had managed to not rashly jump into a marriage with one of the abounding Elven hotties around her (she had the whole of Rivendell and Lothlorien to choose from, and take Glorfindel as just one humble example…) and instead waited for a fateful love b) when her husband passed, none of the earthier bonds held her to life, not even her love for their children. Much as his death must have grieved her, there were still plenty of other dear people to live for, many other good things she could have done in life, but all that mattered to her was apparently her feelings.

Much as I in no way state that it was thus and thus only, I strongly feel that it is a viable possibility that she would not be very developed in the corporal/sensual department. Aragorn, on the other hand, I feel might be a very passionate man – there are subtle hints all over the text ;) Plus, given he fell for her so early in his life and stayed so devoted he even told Gandalf he would remain celibate if she did not marry him, it’s possible to assume he had gained no experience in how to help a woman open up the sexual being in herself. Hence, I hoped that a situation as that in this story would not come accross as a stretch implemented for the sake of the boys ending up in need of comfort and lurve :) Thank you for supporting my hopes!

And indeed, I wouldn’t want anyone to appear a villain or a victim here. Not having this need herself and living among people who fare similarly, why would Arwen foresee any possible trouble arising from this matter in the future? If anything, it appeared to me that Aragorn’s being a Man rather than one of her own kind did not get too much thought from her, given how little time it had taken her to vow to stay with him. It may be a love of the lifetime, but still, there are all the practical aspects connected to swapping to your husband’s culture, one she probably did not know too much about, but it took her what, an hour tops? Not to mention that during that fateful meeting in Lorien when she fell for him, it was said he appeared more an Elven prince or lord or something like that rather than a Man, so it was not his otherness she was attracted to or intrigued by, but specifically that he seemed to her like one of her people.

At the same time, it said in the Book that she lived in great glory and bliss while his term lasted, so I figured that even if there was a mis-match in their temperaments, she would not be the one to be afflicted by it ;D Because as far as I remember, Aragorn’s bliss was not explicitly mentioned in the description on their post-war marital life…

And, yes, New Zealand is something something, and something else too. It’s been a few months now, but I still can’t help being overwhelmed. I’m venturing out from the city now and again – the majesty of the land is epic… Everything’s as though made at a different scale, and landscapes as though have meaning, I don’t know how to explain… You must come see!

Ah, the apologies are getting the fancier with every turn :) But you know what, I don’t WANT apologies from you :D I want awesome, long, ranting comments about many things at once :))))))) Because discussing things with readers is one of the main reasons I actually publish my texts instead of letting them just sit there clogging up the hard-drive :)

Aragorn as a man who just knows everything? I must say that’s a sentiment I strongly share :) And yet I’ve also always felt he was a man who wasn’t overeager to get himself directly involved into others’ personal business. Like he put no pressure on Frodo when it was time to decide Gondor/Mordor, which arguably led to some unpleasant consequences for certain party members. Likewise he never bugged Boromir about the latter’s apparent unease during their boat journey, nor even seemed to keep a particularly close eye on him – and maybe if he had done something about it… Also, Eowyn. Instead of just going no, lady, no, you can’t come with us, no – he could’ve tried actually approaching her to explain why he could not return her evident interest. Anything along the lines of it’s-not-you-it’s-me might’ve spared her a lot of angst. I mean, pretty much anything: I’m engaged/impotent/gay/actually a woman in disguise/mortally allergic to cooties – would’ve been better than letting her think the problem lay with her lousy self.

So, hm, following that line, I think he would not be particularly proactive about gaining skill-points in sexual expertise until the day he actually had where to apply it. Which canon-wise I think was supposed to be his wedding night. Elrond had told him not to get betrothed to anyone until the whole thing with Arwen was settled, and I feel that by Tolkien-rules, that sort of meant that ‘not screwing anyone while you wait’ kinda goes without saying :) Now, I’m quite lenient towards the idea he might’ve gotten some smex education before he met Arwen, since he was already 20 by that time, not exactly a child… Also, I can quite willingly entertain the idea he might’ve had same-sex relationships of one sort of another while he waited – because, well, that’s quite different, in my opinion, from having an affair with another lady and possibly siring her a kid or two. But either way, I think his practical knowledge of the female body would be limited at best.

Which is in no way to say that their wedding night or their sex life as a whole would necessarily be miserable. After all, it’s quite possible even for two entirely clueless virgins to have a first time that’s far from terrible. After all, all it takes is patience, willingness to explore, and careful attention to the other’s and your own reactions. However, there may arise some serious issues if in the process it turns out the people have fundamentally different expectations about the act or even absence thereof. Among other things, Aragorn’s use of the words ‘heirs of my body’, much as it is a common official phrase, kind of hinted to me he was looking forward to doing the deed, marryng Arwen not only out of romantic/platonic motivation, but also to have children through all the traditional steps – whereas Arwen… Well, we’ve discussed that above.

In today’s world they might’ve gone to counselling or something, but in their settings… Much as I love those fanfics where a third somebody is called to join ua unbalanced couple in bed and set things aright, somehow in this particular case it doesn’t seem like a solution that would be popular with either of the parties involved even if it did actually occur to somebody as a concept…

In that sense, it seemed to me that Faramir’s and Eowyn’s union was under far less stress and had good chances to actually fare better, even if with a sad finale like in this particular story. Because they both had just escaped death and were hardly counting on much good to happen to them when they met each other. For them it was sort of up from the dumps, because there was hardly anywhere further down to go.

Oh man, I actually feel so bad for Aragorn now (:,,-O
ROFL

Oh my lovelies, thank you for your kindest comments!

Eora, please don’t be settling for a very long read though, this story is more than half-told, or at least that part of it which will be typed out ;) One problem with these slowly-unfolding tales is that I never conceive them as such, always somehow underestimating the time and length it is going to take for the story to ripen. Oh well, heh. Anyway, though you’ve said this a while back already, it still fascinates me that you name me among your inspirations… I do indeed feel a strong sense of kinship to your writing, so we must be riding a similar kind of wave, but nevertheless.. Very humbling. In a good way :)

And yes, writing their dialogue is a most interesting affair. I always feel Faramir would be very respectful with Aragorn, keeping clear of teetering on either rudeness or servility in tone. And personally, I think that would be one of the things that would specifically fuel Aragorn’s trust and love for him, seeing as thanks to such conduct Aragorn would feel that Faramir perceives in him not only the lord but also the man, and respects him as both lord and man, if you get my meaning…

Raven, buckle up for the endless reply!! First of all, thank you for saying there is a positive undertone! It’s nice to know that it does come through despite all the general morbidness.

Speaking of dignity, I agree that Faramir would not be fixated on his state, aka he would not be pampering his dignity just for the sake of it. He doesn’t have an inflated ego or an excess of pride, so he’s not over-sensitive to situations that might damage his ‘resume’. For example, he repeatedly offered his love to Eowyn although there was an obvious likelihood she would turn him down, which would have kept more touchy men clear off for fear of humiliation. So I think his unwavering dignity is more of a permanent inner trait that just manifests itself in his behaviour, be it with equals, those below or above him.

Re your other point, no, you are not over-analysing :) And definitely there is a big issue of restriction within the society. I’m not in any way arguing for a complete lack of boundaries, but it seems that there may be just a bit too many at the moment. What I’ve noticed in Tolkien’s works on middle-Earth is that the word ‘desire’ is typically used in negative context – except for when it is ‘desire of the heart’ which effectively means ‘love’. If we look at examples of desire in his stories, it is what Grima harbours for Eowyn, and Maeglin for his cousin Idril, and if I remember right, also Eol the Elf for Aredhel, which union does not end happily… It seems to suggest that desire is not a healthy and inherent part of love, but rather a somewhat separate and highly perilous thing… So in that line I think Aragorn would indeed be deeply contradicted about their situation with Arwen, on the one hand resenting his inability to consummate his passion, on the other feeling ashamed for being so grieved by it… This brings me to your point about him being somewhat domineering with Faramir. I would agree, I see it as mostly a defense reaction: he is troubled re his nonconventional feelings for Faramir, likely not altogether certain whether Arwen’s denying him intimacy justifies him seeking it elsewhere, embarrassed of asking it of Faramir so early on, and of course he is afraid that Faramir, too, would reject him. And right you are, he is not at all versed in the arts of physical love. He does plainly admit it, saying that while Faramir has been with many, he himself has been with no one. Also, he admits he has not even explored his own body until it began a reproductive necessity, which I think strongly suggests he has not explored anyone else’s body either… Such a degree of modesty may seem a bit unusual, I guess, but then Aragorn hasn’t had a very usual life. Besides, if we are to rely on canon, I have a feeling Tolkien’s saying he waited for her for so long was meant to imply Aragorn waited in all senses, including that he did not go wanking every now and again to ease the burden, heh. Seeing what a high chivalric love they were painted to have, even some harmless masturbation would likely spoil the atmosphere of romance and purity.

So I would say that being physically innocent is not something Aragorn is trying to make a secret of, for, given his story, him not being innocent would imply he had been unfaithful to Arwen at some point… If anything, he openly warns Faramir of his standing, even if he does not describe it as bluntly as ‘I’ve never gotten laid’, lol.

As for it being an interesting night – most certainly, I assure you! :) Funnily enough, it wasn’t until after I’ve begun publishing this story that I’d myself stumbled upon somebody who knows next to nothing of these things. A novel experience for me, it was intensely endearing, and naturally it’s quite gratifying to be told, no one’s done this to me before – but at the same time, it wasn’t until then that I began to appreciate the full amount of patience, care and tact it might in some cases require to help the other person learn what to do – without putting them on the defensive by making them feel inadequate or incompetent. I should expect that Aragorn especially, given what pain the situation with Arwen has caused him, would indeed be in need of tremendous support and encouragement, and it make take him a very long time to reach certain mile-stones.

Though a man of formidable character and willpower, I think he still has the natural human points of fragility. We have seen in the book that although he is not given to showing or talking about his feelings much, he can indeed be overcome with grief, and anger, as well as shame and annoyance, etc. So I try not to idealise him in my writing, and this story is definitely working to that end, rofl.

Oh my, I really must finish now, this is the longest reply ever…

Dear Raven,

thanks so much for your unwavering interest and inspiring commentary!

Indeed, Aragorn is pretty much ‘caught between two flames’, as a Russian expression would put it. I agree that in their society, just like it used to be and to a large extent still is in ours, it would be the man who would be expected to bring sexual experience and knowledge into the couple. I am quite certain a woman was supposed to go into marriage a virgin. Nowadays, of course, even a virgin can acquire considerable knowledge, even if only theoretical, since educational materials are widely available. (Of course, not all sources are qually good, and the majority of porn movies out there would ‘teach’ you that all it takes ot make everyone happy is to put a penis or penis-like object into any human orifice and bang away. But still, there are plenty of serious books and tapes that do contain a plenty of useful tips) Besides, with public attitudes towards masturbation steadily softening, one may at least come to learn the reactions of one’s own body before trying to understand another’s. But in middle-Earth… While they did not have the Church or any other celibacy-promoting institution that would say that basically sex = sin and thinking about sex = sin, I have a feeling that their societies would be far from the sensuality-embracing pagan cultures or druidic societies of the pre-Christian Europe. And Aragorn, having given his heart to another at such a young age, would likely be under a very strong pressure to not ‘stray’, and being Aragorn he most probably wouldn’t stray indeed – and this would leave him with what on the wedding night? While in other stories I like to play with the idea of Arwen possessing some of her own experience, not necessarily acquired through unlawful encounters with a male, it feels to me that canon-wise she did not know that much about the workings of a human male’s body – because where could she possibly have learnt on this topic? It could well be that the Elven culture, in all their millenia of existense, did produce some analogue of the Kamasutra, hehe, but surely it would not be meant for the eyes of unwed maidens, hehe again.

Speaking of Aragorn’s ‘self-esteem’ problems, though I don’t normally use that phrase in LOTR context given its strongly modern ring – you know, facing rejection, and specifically sexual rejection, from a loved one can mess up one’s brain in any number of ways. We don’t know whether Aragorn is the textbook male from “Men are from Mars…” for whom acceptance and admiration are the best gifts his woman could give, but it stands to reason that for any living person to be explicitly unaccepted and unadmired by their other half, even if only in one aspect, would still be very, very painful. If she accepts him only in part, does is it even count? Does selective acceptance qualify as acceptance at all? Certainly he cannot demand it of her, because acceptance given under pressure doesn’t really qualify either, heh – but what is he to do then?

Speaking of the allure of virginity, yes, that’s a complicated subject. I suppose there are a number of reasons. First of all, given our culture’s history, a virgin bride meant a good bride, a woman who lived according to society’s guidelines and would make a good wife. Secondly, it’s more ocmfortable for a man in the sense that if she hadn’t had any men before him, she wouldn’t be able to judge him in comparison to them, she wouldn’t be able to think that his ‘thing’ is smaller than of that other guy she’d been with, or that he’s not at good with his technique, etc. Thirdly, it would rid him of the rather unpleasant mental images of his beloved enjoying herself with someone else. I think this moment of jealousy is exceptionally strong, after all, are we not often torn by conflicting desires that our lover be experienced and know what to do and yet at the same not have been with that many partners before meeting us?

And no, I wouldn’t say that being with someone ‘fresh’ and ‘unspoilt’ is all roses. I mean, there are many good sides to it, and it helps to focus one’s attention on these sides, because naturally there are a lot of points of frustration as well. It is indeed quite a popular fantasy, of being the older woman/older man to a beautiful youth/beautiful lass, who are full of desire but also endearingly timid, etc. What this fantasy forgets to include is that often this would put the older or at least the more experienced person into the leading role all the time, and not all of us enjoy that. As for responsibility, well, really good teachers are hard to come by, we all know that, heh, so I reckon it might as well be me as the next person ;)

And yes, how would Faramir feel? For Aragorn this question must be answered before anything else. After all, one rejection can be written off on chance or an unfortunate coincidence of circumstances, but if it comes again from nother person, then that would mean that it is Aragorn that soemthign is wrong with, right? And of course he wouldn’t have questioned the normality of his make before this whole situation. Men, I agree with you, would not be judged so demandingly re their beauty, although all of Tolkien’s positive characters are at elast nice-looking, most of them actually ‘fair’ and ‘beautiful’. But most of all men would probably be judged on those aspects of their physique relating to performance, such as strength, for men were mostly warriors or workers or peasants, making their life with physical work. So yes, I would expect it had been quite a shock for him. And when it comes to it, I expect it is indeed possible for a man, after such an incident, to wonder if he’s okay. I’ve had men explicitly tell me that only the female body can be beautiful and the male body is inherently ugly… And well, as the super-talented creator of Oglaf joked, the penis does look like it’s been designed by H. R. Geiger (remember the backscratcher?) so certainly one could come to have self-doubts…

And omg, they made you work on Jan 2? Serves them right to have you write fiction reviews in work-time, hahaha.

Dear friend, is it a custom with you to apologise for your comments, whether it be for their length or their shortness? ;) Seriously, all comments I treasure, all comments spur me on, be it through encouraging or challenging me, so have no worries :) And I hope you haven’t gnawed any holes in your table ;)

Hm, yes, to think of it, I haven’t yet, in any of my stories, written a single sex scene, especially a first-time-sex scene, that would be devoid of stones and various other obstacles. Ah, poor poor characters, hehe, and evil evil me, gnehehe. But indeed, I must say that depictions of technically and emotionally perfect and flawless sex seldom touch me, be it in fanfiction, other works of writing or film. I may certainly appreciate the artistic skill put into creating such scenes, but it never really goes to my gut, if you know what I mean. And for me as an author, the main reason I give such prominense to the erotic themes in my wriitng is not the arousing aspects of writing and reading such fiction, but the fact that I find human intimacy, in and of itself, a remarkably fascinating subject. Just like no two snowflakes are ever exactly alike, I feel that every person has their unique sexual individuality, and given what extraordinary characters we meet in Tolkien’s world, I feel there must be a tale to tell about the more intimate sides of them, too. I also feel that romance, and the sexual side of it especially so (not that those two always go hand in hand, gnehehe again), is an extremely controversial ground, and to me controversial=intriguing=enthralling. Hence I prefer above all pairings where conflict of one form or another is inherent, such as Faramir/Boromir or Faramir/Aragorn or Faramir/Pippin ;p While I do appreciate the beauty of arrangements like Faramir/Legolas as well, I sense much less ground for complexity and difficulty in them, and therefore they touch me less.

I also feel quite strongly that in our popular culture descriptions of intimacy either focus too much on how physically pleasurable/not pleasurable an encounter was and how hot everyone looked, or on how much love-love-love everybody feels for each other. I make a conscious effort to steer away from that in my own works. The way I see it, sex (and by sex here I mean not only intercourse as such but all forms of intimate intercation with oneself and another) – is like music. There is hardly a human emotion that you could not convey through music, hardly a state of mind, hardly a sentiment, hardly a thought that you could not make into a melody. Talented composers can even describe landsapes and tell stories the way an artist would do in a painting. And I feel that the same level of emotinal and even intellectual expression is, ultimately, possible through narrations of the intimate experience. And just like it’s perfectly possible for a piece of music to be at once very candid and beautiful, I feel that descriptions of sex, even very detailed descriptions of sex, need not necessarily be profane. Even rough and loveless sex can be depicted in a beautiful, heart-stopping and poignant manner. You can write sex like a tragedy, like a comedy, an action-adventure, a trash-horror too, ha-ha – you can turn it into a farce or tell a person’s life-story with it.

So what I’m (ineffectively) trying to say here, is that “them doing it” is exactly what I’m trying not to make into the central point of any of my stories, even though most of those stories do indeed consist for more than 50% of descriptions of somebody doing something blithely indecent to somebody else.

See, I’ve more than made up for the relative compactness of your comment!

P.S. So long as I’ve started talking of music, this story is written to ‘Sanctuary’ by Secret Garden if you are interested :)

Oh, I cannot believe I seriously have left your words without reply, Raven. Little chance you will come across my response now, but anyway.

Indeed, fusion fan-work seems like such a sweet idea. If I were a more multidimensinally talented person than I am, and had a decent command of visual art, singing, playing an istrument and clipmaking, I would probably switch to making videos where text would go alongside with imagery, accompanied by music and nature-sounds, and the screen exuding heavenly fragrances all the while… I’d put together collages of assorted imagery and call them “What Faramir is to me”. I’d even do some cosplay if I could! But you get what you get, which is my stories ;p Speaking of music though, here’s my latest inspiratin for Tolkien fan-work, Selig by Helium Vola. This story already has its soundtrack, but this and their other songs go very well with all my Eowyn-related fiction. I know Tolkien is said to have fashioned Rohan after a celtic culture, but to me the Rohirrim had always been very strongly associated with the Germanic, and to some extent Scandinavian, heroic mythology. To think of it, the whole Silmarillion is to me very Germanic-like in feel – and also goes hand-in-hand with the pre-Rafaelite imagery the like of in the link. If I could, I would’ve painted something like that to illustrate this story.

Dancinkatz, you just literally made my day with your comment! It’s always a pleasure to welcome a new reader, especially to a story that’s been a while since updated. I honestly don’t understand where you get the faith to read something that’s been on hiatus for almost 3 months, but thank you so much! AND you read the replies, wow. Well, in that case, I’ll make a personalised rant dedicated to you :)

You mention food for thought – and I guess this is one of the fundamental reasons why I’m so drawn to the Tolkien legendarium in the first place. I mean, of course there’s also this sensation of purity, and ancience, and honour and nobility, of a truer and clearer life – but all that aside, his work is never failing to provide food for thought people-wise and relationship-wise. I feel the relationships he portrays, that of a master and dedicated servant, of two brothers, of battle friends, of fathers and sons, of a man and a woman – they all resonate with simple human truth.

Fair enough, myself and many other authors often re-write these relationships, or at least re-interpret them in ways different from that most readily implied by canon. But it is precisely this sensation of universal truth that drives me to do this reinterpretation, that promises that there is something inherent in these characters and their world that will give true life to these other, derivative stories. Funnily enough, we are not told too much about many of these relationships in the book, large parts of the lives of the involved people being described by a couple of paragraphs in the appendices – but nevertheless… When a story begins to take on life in my mind, there’s this clear certainty that Aragorn, or Faramir, or whoever, would respond to such and such in this particular way… It has always been a pity to me that Faramir and Boromir had been given so little space in the book, both on their own and especially together. Even though each of them plays a fundamental part in the fate of the Ring, and with it the world, they still come across to me as secondary characters, which sucks >:E But nevertheless they have such rich personalities, such clear personalities – endless resource for food for thought :)
Thanks for reading!

Raven, love, thanks for the comment! Wow, you’re cheeky and bold, aren’t you – for my part I don’t think I’ve read anything much sensual in a remotely public place at all, hehe.

I’m sorry your boyfriend wasn’t into fire festivals, I always thought bonfires are quite fun ;P Seriously though, I do commiserate.

Well, sex is often like American Pie, isn’t it? Or sometimes even, what was that movie called, where she got plastered to the ceiling, Scary Movie? The more I live, the less I’m surprised by anything, hehehe. But you know what, I think that what fundamentally determines whether a potentially hilarious sexual situation is ridiculous or serious, is a combination of two factors: first and foremost, your attitude towards the other person, and then their attitude towards the situation.

Here’s a personal example (nothing NC-17, no worries). Once I was with this boy, and he couldn’t get it up. Don’t know why, doesn’t matter. I wasn’t in love with him, was in love with someone else actually, again, doesn’t matter. At first I did feel sorry for him, for what guy would want to be in a situation like that? I tried to reassure him, to help – but you know, I very soon got plain bored. As I lay there, pulling, in vain, on that overcooked carrot, all I could think was, what the hell am I doing here? I could’ve been at home now, watching TV, taking a bath, or chatting to my friends. I just fell out of touch with the situation. It was awkward, absurd, uninteresting.

Whereas some time later the exact same thing happened with someone that I did in fact have feelings for. And that’s one of my most anguished memories to date. His shame was my physical pain, and I felt so powerless as if I was caught in an earthquake – when you realise something terrible is happening, and you also realise that whatever you do, you can’t change anything. The degree of frustration and despair is something unspeakable.

With that first boy, it seemed ridiculous to me either way, regardless of what he felt. I did not laugh or tell him anything of the sort, but I felt that way anyway. Whereas with the second one, it could’ve been ridiculous only if he had taken it lightly and found it genuinely funny. You know, it’s like the famous fart in Sex and the City. She took it seriously, but he laughed, and that hurt her feelings.

So yeah, in our case, Faramir does care, and so, hopefully, it doesn’t turn into an American Pie :)

Oh, man, I feel your pain. I’d been there, the comment eaters had preyed on a comment of mine as well. Henceforth, whenever I’m making a big one, I back it up incessantly or altogether write it in a word-processor. Cause that’s terribly frustrating, that is. So doubly thanks for going over it again!

Please don’t feel obliged to comment on every update, which is not to say I enjoy it endlessly when you do <3 And you re-read it from the start every time? Whoah. As in, WHOAH. I just. Yeah. You know.

This is my biggest comment yet, but I feel you kind of asked for it :)))

Re characterisation – I guess that’s the reason we do it in the first place, isn’t it? I mean, writing fanfiction erotica/porn. Because otherwise we may call our characters Bob and Bill (or Susie), or altogether label them X and Y, and who cares. I don’t think I’d read any original-character heavy erotica on the Web for… I don’t even know how many years. I had read a handful of short stories back in the day, back when I had just discovered this genre, and was fascinated more than anything by the simple fact that somebody came up with such stories and more than that, published them for others to read. But as such, I’m not interested. I mean, if you want proper porn, then just buy a watch quality DVD, right? Whereas what I’m looking for here… I guess it’s a lived human experience, from the perspective of characters I love or at least am intrigued by in some way. And seeing as our own human experience is by default explicit, I don’t see why not have this fictional experience in similar detail. Because as soon as there is good characterisation, the act itself automatically acquires other meanings. Because in turn, even if we describe the encounter as purely recreational no strings attached kind of stuff, that in itself has certain psychological implications, right?

I like your point about the distinction between Aragorn’s vulnerability/weakness. I must admit I’m particularly drawn to vulnerability myself, or rather a person’s ability to evoke a certain type of pity in me. I even read somewhere that it’s a characteristic national trait of my people, to love through pity, or, more precisely, to love the suffering, especially so those unjustly suffering. I don’t think though that it’s any less common for any other culture – I mean, the universally popular hurt/comfort genre is predicated solely upon this premise, isn’t it? But there’s a line, at least for me: to love this way, I simultaneously need to be able to respect the object of my pity. And I… well, I can’t quite respect the weak. A person may currently suffer from some particular human weakness, but generally have fortitude of character, and a strong will, and healthy ambition, courage and the ability to recover from a fall, willingness to take on responsibility, that kind of thing. You know, like Boromir. Vulnerable? Yes. Weak? Hmm… Maybe not as clever as Faramir, but not really quite weak, I think not. Because he believed in the rightness of his own opinions, and he stuck to them. So stubborn rather than weak, I would say. In the grand scheme of things, it does maybe paint him as morally weak, you know, in Christian interpretation, as in easily tempted. But character-wise, he was quite strong. Not as strong as some, maybe, but even so. He carried a great burden, after all.

I guess if I were to select one criterion only, for not being weak, it would be that the person be trying to pull themselves together after a lapse. And in that sense, I don’t think any of Tolkien’s characters could be described as weak. Some never had a lapse to begin with, like Aragorn, he just does what he does. Even Grima has some self-respect left to finally rebel against Saruman’s oppression. Even Saruman himself, though it shows him as beyond salvation, has enough stubbornness in him to stick to his ways, lead him as they may to his demise. This pulling together may not always go in a healthy direction, yes, but they all of them are strong minds and strong wills.

So I have a very hard conviction that this strength must be communicated in fanfiction. That even when depicting a moment of weakness, we need to show that it is not meant to imply a greater weakness of character. And I’m so glad that’s how it came across to you!

New Zealand… I could of course talk about how amazing it is, but I reckon you already know that and it’s not exactly what you’re asking. So, it’s been a tough year. It’s going to get ugly form here, but since you asked ;p I haven’t really talked of it much, I think not, maybe only to one person before, relatively unanimously as well. Some observations are mostly curious, of course.

For instance. Like a person from a Northern land, you might appreciate this one. See, I come from a land with stereotypical, picture-book seasons. Spring. Summer. Autumn. Winter. And for half a year at a time, everything lies in a comatose deathly slumber, even half the wildlife. Everything is dead and white. Or, in the big cities, everything is dead and dirty. You know, the poesy of winter, haha. And I’ve grown so used to this cycle, where this temporary suspension of all living activity is a normal part of the cycle. But here. But here, or at least the part of the island I live in, the land is… I’ve realised recently that I’ve slipped into a certain state of timelessness – as in it feels to me that I’ve been here for much less than I actually know by calendar. And I blame it in great part on the nature which is abundant here, because it’s… creepily enough, it feels as though deathless. It is always green. As in, St Patrick’s, photo-filter green. I’ve learnt not so long ago that it’s about a 2-hour drive from where I live to the set of Hobbiton. I think it’s something like $200 to have a tour. So it’s that kind of green. And any time of the year, something is always blooming. Always. Any big tree, it always has this flock of teeny itsy flowers in the grass around its roots, some yellow some white, ashamed not to know their names. It feels like, Spring, Summer, Autumn, Spring again. It makes you feel disoriented and a little… inconsequential, you know – not that I’ve ever entertained illusions as to otherwise, but even so. Thing is, the size of things here… I don’t know whether there’s something in the air, or the soil, or if it’s the solar radiation, but things on the continent don’t grow as they do here, I’m telling you. Some trees have flowers the size of melons, as in, you hold it in your hands, and it’s effing heavy. There’s this forest nearby where apparently the trees are over a thousand years old, and their girth is such you can literally carve a house in their trunk. It sounds cool but it’s kind of scary actually. It’s like, this whole ancient majesty, it doesn’t give a damn about your little petty human goings-on. It’s going to outlive you by another couple thousand years, and it just can’t be bothered.

I realise it might sound like I’m bragging in disguise, but it’s been pretty rough in fact, the transition. I’d say this to anyone who ever considers immigration to a better place – don’t be wary of the tough bits, be wary of the good bits. Because the tough bits, you brace yourself for them in advance, you anticipate uncertainty, and weariness, and fear, and loneliness at times. What you don’t anticipate is that it’s going to fucking enrage you to see that this kind of beauty and peacefulness is possible. It’s not something that you would talk of to anyone in person, because it’s a very embarrassing feeling, and you seem to yourself kind of crazy for entertaining it. Because when your surroundings are shabby, dirty streets and miserable-looking people, your anger seems easily justified. But when you stand amid all this greenness, and bloom, and birdsong, and the air is sweet, and you look upon it, and all of a sudden your vision goes black with anger – that’s the scariest shit, I’m telling you. At least I wasn’t prepared for it. The first time around, I went home, locked myself in the shower and wept hysterically, naked with the water hosing down on me. Because when on the outside it’s so peaceful, you are forced to acknowledge that it’s not the outside that’s causing this, it’s the inside. Like you’re carrying this glop of black slime in you that starts thrashing around whenever you are confronted with this injustice, with your own po-wer-less-ness — that where you come from, things are shitty and likely to get shittier, whereas here, you know, all daisies, and there is nothing, absolutely nothing you can do about anything. Of course it’s not all daisies and people got their own problems, but it takes a while before you can relate. And until then, psychologically you are still elsewhere – but at the same time a little removed, enough to see how that previous environment had left its mark on you. And that only makes you angrier, because you start wondering why your people have to live in a place that leaves a mark. Mind you, I had never been involved in politics, never held a position of power, don’t consider myself a fervent patriot, certainly not a person given to violence or even particularly aggressive. But man… I’m glad it’s passed now, it’s been insightful though, hehehe.

Not a happy account of NZ, eh? Speaking of turmoil unseen, snort. Again, not NZ’s fault, NZ’s awesome for all I can say. I do hope now that my national-identity issues are settling down, I’ll have more emotional strength to spend on more creative bethinking.

Ok, that’s more than enough about me, beh. How are you? What is up? Do tell.

And thank you again for all the kind words. I wonder how I can ever live up to such praise, and form a native speaker, too… I would also be more than happy to know any of those other thoughts you had on this story if you ever feel like writing them down :) And do reply on Luck.

Hey hun, nope, I don’t mind at all. If anything, when I read you’d be coming to Australia for a while, I nearly fell off my chair. We must meet! Seriously, when else would there be less geographical distance? Don’t tell me you want be coming over to explore the Zealand while you’re there ;p

In fact, your description of winters is exactly what I used to have. It didn’t really go below -15 very often, maybe for a week or two in the whole course of winter, and then of course the dark days, and the festive season… I must say it looks a bit preposterous to me, the whole holly wreath and Santa in a fur-coat thin when the crowd on the street is hardly dressed and not always shod, hehehe. But you might just miss it. We miss not the good things, just the familiar things, don’t we? I still prefer the taste of pasteurised milk to fresh one, for instance, as that’s what was around when I was little, even though in my brain I obviously know better…

But Down Under largely has a more continental climate, with more distinct seasons, even if “reversed”. But that you get used to. It is funny though. My own penname, for instance, has acquired a neat little double-meaning, and the summer holidays are all around Christmas, not bad, eh?

I really do hope it works out for you! With your passport, you can altogether relocate to pretty much anywhere in the Commonwealth, can’t you? NZ and AU for sure.

Do it! Do it! It can be difficult to get it off the ground, I know. From personal experience, the easiest way to go on an adventure is either when you’re running from something – that’s by far the easiest of all, at least in terms of getting your butt off the couch – or if it’s completely spontaneous and instigated by someone else. I had a combination of both, luckily. The instigator dropped off midway through, as they often do, but it was too late for me then. But do it. Whichever way.

Do you know, immediately after posting that adjustment rant I had felt quite embarrassed. For the ranting, and even more so for the subject of it. So many people would love to live where I live, and yet I dare complain. Well, I may have provided a rather one-sided picture I’m afraid. And since you say you found it insightful (hopefully not out of being polite, because here comes part 2), I feel compelled to explain. The negative always tends to attract more attention to itself, so I had left out all the positive things that more than makeup for my “hardships” hehe. Though it is a scientific truth that transition between cultures is often trickier than we expect. While I wouldn’t say that I had a culture shock as such, seeing as the culture is precisely one of the things I love, reassuringly familiar in its underlying Britishness add a more egalitarian twist and general serenity of mind. But the thing is that the very of fact the transition makes you reevaluate yourself. It’s like being a teenager all over again, so much philosophy, doh. Haha. You know, it’s like in those perceptual illusions, if you take a square of grey and set it next to a black block, and it looks light – put it next to white, and it’s dark. Same with you, prolonged exposure to a significantly different social context not only can and does bring out in you things that were up to now only dormant, but also puts different features of yourself into the spotlight. In a country like this, it’s all largely positive, but nevertheless, much of it is accompanied with anxiety.

I can’t quite remember the last time that I’d go through a week without having sleeping difficulties. Damn the anxiety, haha. I guess in part it comes from the fact that I’d lived for so long in a place with this constant sense of impending doom, that just like with winter, it’s become part of my system. And now I kind of am trying to recreate that feeling for myself, weirdly enough. But part of it is objective, too – when you feel the whole system is heading towards a collapse, there are so many issues it’s easier to just go into denial about. But here, interestingly enough, I find that so many social problems are receiving so much more public exposure than back in Russia where the problem is actually much more severe. You know, poverty, women’s rights, domestic abuse, all those. It’s not really an appropriate thing to discuss where I’m from.

But more than that, here I’ve actually found myself more at risk. Stupid, eh, obviously here the risk is actually lower. That is, objectively, but I don’t think objectively. The way it works for me, I always used to judge myself as a low-risk group for any assault kind of thing. Simply for the reason that I’ve always had this belief that predators choose the most vulnerable pray, and in my society I didn’t belong to the most vulnerable group. Of course I’d had my share of people trying to coerce me into unpleasant things I didn’t want to do, and even a partner (now long an ex-partner) explaining that he would beat me if I disobeyed – but through a combination of vigilance and sheer luck I’ve come through unscathed. As in, nothing was ever actually done to me – as opposed to a friend who was always the one to get attacked by deranged maniacs, and targeted by calculating predators, that sort of thing. I always assumed there was something in me that did not appeal to that sort of folk. Of course, this is all rubbish: anyone, regardless of gender, age or physical constitution can become a target of assault, including a sexual one. And it’s not always a serial criminal who’s doing these things, sometimes a generally good citizen may simply have their judgement clouded by alcohol/drugs, or entertain one of those caveman ideas like “women enjoy being raped” or “I’ve spent money on her, hence she owes me sex”. So no one’s, of course, off the list. But nevertheless, back there I didn’t feel like I stood out, and it gave me a sense of security. Just a foolish cognitive bias, really, but there it was.

Think of the most exaggerated horse-riding chick stereotype out there. That was me, direct, opinionated, confident in my right to want what I want and not want what I don’t, passionate and stubborn, not willing to take shit from anyone. If I didn’t take shit form a horse, who’s like ten times my weight and has four feet to kick me with, then certainly I didn’t have to take shit from another human person. And if I’d learnt one thing from horses, it’s that the more in charge you are, the less danger you are in. If anything, being this way, I naturally attracted the gentler sort of men who (while generally annoying me, for of course I wanted the rough and tough world-weary guy who in turn of course always went after the sweet compliant girl who was willing to tie all of her existence around him, ah, the injustices of life) nevertheless didn’t make me feel like they posed any danger. There was something in me that communicated strength, of character and body, more so than of the average girl. That sort of thing is disapproved of where I’m from, and it did weigh on me, but I simply wrote it off on my Cossack ancestry, telling myself and jokingly telling others that coming from a kick-ass cavalry culture where each and every man hauled himself up in the saddle and went to war when the metropole called, I’m entitled to indulging my own belligerent, freedom-loving genes, hehe. For that matter, the unpleasant incidents I referred to above all had taken place when for whatever reason I was acting out of character, putting forth the more traditionally feminine, fragile front.

The thing is, here I no longer fall into the “stronger than the average” group. There’s a greater ethnic diversity here, and most women are bigger than me. Most people are also darker than me. And you’d really surprise no one around here by confidence or “unfeminine” attitudes. All of a sudden I am the small, blonde, and delicate one. I’d never had enough of any of those things living in Russia, for who in Russia isn’t blond and delicate – but here… And it freaks me out. I feel like I’ve lost my familiar defence of knowing how others see me. My compatriot men always used to define me, from day one and to my face, as strong and/or clever and/or independent, which hardly ever comes out quite like a compliment where I’m from. No one ever defined me as a pretty one. But here the pattern is different. They still do come to the same conclusions character-wise, but only after a while and with some highly amusing wonder, because they start off by being sold on the looks, which to them are beautiful and “exotic” (snort). I literally thought people were mocking me the first times I was being referred to as beautiful, but now that I’ve come to accept that it must be their true perception, it makes me uneasy more than anything else.

For a couple months now I’ve had an obsession with assaults, especially violent sexual assaults by men upon women. I would research the topic, read about the psychology of it, reasons, consequences, the legal response, even how to help victims – virtually anything I can get my hands on. I couldn’t understand why the interest – I’m not a victim nor any close person that I know of. That friend from Russia, yes, but that was years ago, why this reaction now?

And now I understood suddenly. Because to me, the realisation that I’m seen as attractive, or at least more attractive than I’m used to, makes me feel vulnerable. I know, I know, anyone can find themselves in an unsafe situation. But now, for the first time in my life, I feel the need to protect myself. You know, as in, get the practical skills. Learn some karate, read books on the detection of underlying harmful intentions (e.g. The Gift of Fear), remember to carry something sharp in my bag late at night. An Australian friend back in the day had once taught me how to hold a kitchen knife properly, so as to be more likely to stab the other person rather than myself, haha. I remember experiencing a sensation of strange pleasure in that moment as he closed my hold over the handle, showed me the trajectory of the motion. It felt like an extension to my very body, and there was a sensation of power, not an aggressive power, but a steady, calm power, of self-control, of opportunity. I realise now that I want to experience it again. I want to feel like I can do what’s in my power avoid danger, and if not, then ward it off. There is no such thing as being perfectly foolproof, but at least I want to feel like I’ve done all I could.

This whole realisation is causing me a whole load of anxiety. I haven’t learnt any karate yet, you see. Haha. And talking of assimilation, and seasons, and natural majesty – I think it’s just another form of denial, focusing on those issues which are actually minor and cannot cause any real harm.

So much for a comment not centered on self-centered moaning. Well, I excuse myself by the assumption that since you soon might move countries for the first time, you might be interested in some things that might come up in the process. After all, there is a certain universality to human experience.

I am sure all of this anxiety is coming into my writing. I don’t exactly produce happy run-in-the-glen pieces, do I? Maybe in 10 years’ time we’ll see Faramir and Aragorn making a grand appearance eating strawberries in a field, or better, being hand-fed peeled grapes – and that would be the whole story. No angst.

I love your phrase, “non-patronising pity”, that’s exactly what I meant! I could fully love only a child or a pet with a patronising pity. Okay, maybe also a friend or an adult family member, though that would be far from an enjoyable love for me. But an adult in a romantic way – no way. And yes, I definitely don’t see Aragorn as being aware of his ulterior motives when going to Faramir, or at least not seeing them as such in the sense he is not exactly intending to act on them until it kind of just goes and happens, heh. I generally have difficulty imagining Aragorn acting on an ulterior motive as such.

“Humanised king” – love that phrase too. I love such humanisation of characters who have some stereotypical obligation to be strong and “manly”. As Oliver Mellors in Lady Chatterley or Vronsky in Anna Karenina (a complete coincidence that Sean Bean has played them both, that is). To me, it’s just magical. Maybe it’s one of the reasons I prefer to write male characters – that same humanisation is much harder to achieve with female characters who as a rule have less of that obligation placed upon them to begin with.

That even Faramir is under sway of this assumption – you know, I haven’t given much explicit thought to this. It just seemed like a natural thing. I mean, on the one hand, he like no one would be likely to see the human core of any person, no matter how lofty in their social standing. But at the same time, he like no one would believe, until the very end, in Aragorn’s inner strength, just because of the history of their relationship.

”a slow, lust-laden study of human experience that I found darkly magical.” Man, I can only hope that we’re not turning into a society for mutual admiration ;p Because I love so much these things you say, they bring me so much inspiration.

Hm, interesting perspective on hurt/comfort. I instantly saw a broken-legged Pikachoo form your description xD To be honest, I always associated it primarily with psychological hurt, and saw good emotional potential in it. You can go pretty deep here, actually. Some people have this savior-complex, which I find incredibly interesting. I’d met a man like that once, he had a disturbing family background, something like that. And he was only ever drawn to damsels in distress. Especially when the distress was romantic. I was dealing with a very painful rejection at the time, and he gladly… er, helped, all the time knowing I wanted someone else – and half a year later I meet him again, and here he is tenderly shagging some other poor soul to salvation. It was fascinating to me, the way their/my hurt triggered this need to give comfort in him.

My hour’s growing late too, and I’ve just beaten my own record on comment length, so I’ll let you go now. Just let me thank you again for putting all this thought here. Hope you haven’t drowned in the letters. O_o

Ooookay, I’ll address the whole relocation/life-change topic by mail, in a proper letter as it well deserves. I was quite strongly under the impression that there should be more flexibility for you re the immigration policies, but anyway, by mail.

Now, hurt-comfort. You know, I’m generally opposed to classifying stories by this criterion, or by any other, for that matter. As in, this is a hurt/comfort fic, or this is a darkfic. Because to me, it serves to denigrate the story, as if there is nothing else to it other than this label, as if it was written with the sole purpose of fitting into this format and appealing to those readers who have a fetish for this kind of thing. I mean, certainly, stories can and often are classified by genre, but that’s much broader than the format, and is in a way an altogether separate dimension. A story tied around the hurt-comfort theme can as easily be a comedy/farce as a full-blown drama. And the fact that there is such a theme in the text doesn’t automatically allocate this story into an according “folder”, I hope not, provided it’s deep enough. Because just like you say, it’s so enjoyable to see the characters as human, whereas if a story is all about following a format, this requires fitting their behaviour into a certain template which in part robs them of the human quality, does it not?

If we think of it, Aragorn and Faramir’s relationship is initiated as a sort of hurt-comfort to begin with, in the sense that Aragorn starts Faramir’s recovery from all his previous trouble, physical and even more so psychological. So I feel it’s a very natural direction to explore with these two, while of course they might appreciate being depicted in a way that doesn’t imply any sissyness on their behalf. And I do like to play around with things, to see the “weak” King. I understand the way you use that word, and use it the same way here :) I’ve always liked the hurt-comfort element to be double-bottomed, in the sense that the party currently engaged with the comforting side of the deal would be in need of comfort themselves. The wounded healer trope, I guess. As said before, I like it when I can sort of pity a character, respectfully, and in such an arrangement I can feel this way towards both of them, which give me double the joy, hehe.

Not to mention the obvious truth that often it’s precisely someone who’s hurt themselves, or been hurt themselves, who’s in best position to give help, and if not, then at least understanding. I think the Book itself perfectly illustrates this with the Gollum-Frodo situation. Who could’ve related to Gollum better? Who else could’ve related to Gollum at all, except Bilbo perhaps, which is much in the same direction anyway.

What you said in your latest post made me think on the question of validation. I haven’t explicitly analysed this before, but now I see why it felt imperative to have Aragorn as completely inexperienced in this story. Initially I had thought it was just an attempt to stick to canon at least in some way, hehe, as it had always felt to me that Tolkien implied a lot of celibacy to be going on in the story, and not just re Aragorn. And of course it would explain why he didn’t know how to deal with the Arwen situation. But now I come to think that the greatest reason was the question of validation. We so often need our close ones to validate us, don’t we, especially the romantically close ones. Although a lack of parental validation, especially a chronic one, can be extremely painful, at least we can tell ourselves that we don’t get to choose our parents, or they their children, and so it happens sometimes that people in a family simply have very different views on things. Whereas with a beloved, this is a person we chose, or at least our heart chose, someone we bet our money on, so to say, someone who has explicitly said that they do love us back, implying they approve of our ways, too. So when here suddenly the validation goes missing, that leaves a lot of questions unanswered.

My point here is, I think it usually requires some experience, and preferably with different people at that, to properly internalize the self-evident notion that a person’s reactions are always their own. Yes, the way we go about things can change a person’s reaction (imagine suddenly coming to your love-bed in a spiderman costume, bound to get a new reaction, eh?) – but it is still their reaction. Just as all our reactions are ours. And when we meet that one lover who makes us reel with bliss like none before, how often we grieve then afterwards if that lover exits our life, for it seems that only they possessed the gift to do that to us. Whereas if we think on it, yes, that person for whatever reason had found the buttons to push that others hadn’t – but those buttons are ours, not theirs, they did not take them with them when they left. It was us who experienced that joy, it is our nervous system that is capable of the sensation.

But when your first and only intimate experience results in rejection, especially a loving rejection, and your stakes were so high, how are you to reason yourself into the above? It is very difficult to believe then that the fact that one particular person does not want to do a particular thing with you means only that – that this person doesn’t want to do this with you, that’s it. It’s much easier instead to start making these statistical generalisations along the lines of, therefore no one can ever be expected to ever want to do anything with me. Which in turn means I am unattractive.

Which is bullshit. There’s really no such thing as unattractive, in an intransitive sense.

You know, the eye of the beholder, blahblah. But it’s true. I could never understand the point of those lists in the popular magazines, like the top 100 sexiest men/women on Earth. Sexiest to whom? OMG, who decides that this is the most desirable man alive? If another 1000 readers think he’s a complete douche, does that unsexify him? This is such crap. Even if 10,000 are dying to take you to bed, that doesn’t make you attractive, it only means that these 10,000 men want you. Of course, some people are found to be attractive by a greater percentage of the population than some other people. There’s such a thing as type, and there is a certain cultural fashion as to which traits are seen as desirable. But it’s still utterly subjective. And it’s never you, really.

I’ve seen firsthand how this works. A few years back I’d come across this number who for whatever reason couldn’t bear to touch me, you know, there, with any other part of their body than the one meant for it by mum nature. Hence no handjobs, no oral sex, zilch. Whereas right before that there was another character who was so fond of that region of myself that they requested, repeatedly, to take pictures of it to keep on their phone. I’m not even kidding you. That was perhaps the weirdest compliment I’d ever received, and I was like, thanks, but that’s so not gonna happen. But even so, thankfully by then I knew enough to not take either of those cases to heart. For all I know, each would treat any other specimen of my gender in exactly the same fashion, one being freaked out, the other setting up photo-ambushes. I had not had any genital surgery in between them I was exactly the same, and yet such a spectrum of reaction. Obviously, it had extremely little to do with me.

But now I feel real bad for Aragorn, you know, for he has seen none of this. On the plus side, he’s less cynical about sex, I would imagine, than most people of today – but that’s hardly a help at the moment. He hasn’t even heard about the “inelegant” nature of sex, as you mentioned it.

No, I really should do that one with the grapes. To restore social justice.

And I know what you mean by Faramir being softer, I think. Less calcified, one could say. I would imagine Aragorn is just as sensitive to others’ feelings and hurts, but he’s more likely to give people the respect of privacy, whereas Faramir is more openly and actively helpful. Like Pippin saw Faramir as being as noble, but less remote. I really can’t imagine, if Faramir were a leader of the remaining Eight Walkers, that he wouldn’t have pursued the apparently troubled Boromir until they had a sincere talk (assuming here Boromir were not his brother), or that he would have rejected Eowyn without explaining his personal circumstances to her, or at least giving her some outlandish Mel-Gibson consolation re I’m sorry I’m gay.

Thanks again for all the attention, love!

Aww, Lizzy, what big, generous things to say!

Funnily enough, the sort of love l write about is, l think, not the best for us regular people. l used to chase love like that, but now l prefer to be loved like Rosie by Sam :)

As for an original book, since you ask, l do have a fantasy world and story half-baked in my head. But realistically, l don’t think l’d ever be able to love anything more than l love Tolkien’s world, even something of my own making. So l choose to dedicate my time to LOTR. But thank you :3