Faramir Fiction Archive

And All Because... (NC-17)

Written by Foofy

02 February 2005 | 55500 words | Work in Progress

Part 8: Wealth

Life always managed to find further complications. At the entrance of Arwen and the two men, for a moment, just a moment, the room was completely still as though its occupants had been somehow frozen where they stood.

However, it only took Boromir only a few seconds to recover. His gaze turned from horrified to furious in the same period, staring at Haldir with pure fury in his eyes. Haldir remained unruffled, even when the Gondorian stalked towards him. Faramir immediately got to his feet, putting himself between Boromir and Haldir.

His tunic reached to mid-thigh. It was clearly obvious that the ranger was wearing little else. Boromir’s glare intensified as he took on this little piece of information.

“Boromir, wait,” Faramir was more than conscious of the dangerous glare that his brother was aiming at the elf and remained between the two, his eyes firmly fixed on his brother. Haldir looked at Boromir in faint disgust, then turned his attention towards the pair by the door, raising an eyebrow.

“What is this?” he queried, almost with disinterest. Boromir spoke first.

“You are to release my brother,” he growled. “Immediately.”

Haldir raised the other eyebrow and glanced towards Arwen in confirmation of this order. Arwen gave the faintest of nods. There was a shrug from the elf, who proceeded to crouch and unlock the chain from Faramir’s ankle. Faramir’s eyes flickered towards him then returned to study his brother whose eyes had taken a moment to properly look at the injuries on his brother, the cuts, the damaged arm. The fury reached new levels.

Aragorn too had been studying the other ranger silently, then turned to Arwen. “I believed you said he was unharmed?” he said pointedly.

“He was uninjured last time I saw him,” replied the she-elf. “ Boromir can contest to that, can you not Boromir?”

However, Boromir was not listening. His eyes were still locked with Haldir, as though two dogs fighting over a territory. Faramir tried to break their eye contact but to no avail. Short of physically moving his brother or waving a hand in his face, Boromir was not shifting his attention from his prey. It was as though watching a cat stalking a mouse.

“It was my fault,” the young ranger said hastily, realising the cause of the additional anger. “Don’t worry,”

And this finally broke through the solid fury to get Boromir’s attention. The Gondorian’s eyes slowly moved to stare at his baby brother as though he had declared something impossible.

“Your fault? Don’t worry?” he echoed incredulously, then slower, more patient, as though speaking to one who would find it difficult to understand. “What exactly happened to your arm, Faramir?”

Faramir wasn’t entirely able to meet his brother’s eyes. He hated it when Boromir took it upon himself to become the protector, often choosing the simple route rather than properly understand what was going on around him. Details were for other people, especially when he was in this sort of mood.

“Stuff,” he said finally.

“Faramir, this is not the time for your bravery!” Boromir was more than simply frustrated. His fury shone from his eyes, his muscles tense and simply waiting for the point where he could launch at the creature who had defiled his brother. He glared at Haldir. “If it was you who harmed him I swear I will-”

Faramir moved a little more between them, his eyes fixed on his elder brother worriedly. This was worse than he could have imagined. “Boromir, calm down. Haldir was only doing his job,”

“So it was!” The confirmation was more than the elder brother could bear, and certainly more than enough to justify his revenge. Had not Faramir been between them Boromir would have already attacked, no doubt aiming to do as much damage as possible, taking out his anger and his frustrations on the elf in one of the few ways he knew how. Faramir looked faintly wretched at the thought. It was his fault that his brother was put in this position, his fault that Boromir worried and panicked so much about him. His fault entirely.

However, that did not mean he could let Boromir do as he wished. Haldir did not deserve such treatment, and it was doubtful exactly which of them would come off best.

“Only incidentally,” Faramir was forced to give Boromir a reluctant but hard shove backwards as the elder Gondorian took a determined step towards Haldir. Finally Faramir’s own irritation began to show. “Boromir, stop it.”

Boromir paused at the grim determination that had suddenly appeared in his brother’s voice, and glanced back at him, confused. Faramir’s jaw was set, his eyes ablaze. Boromir raised an eyebrow.

“And what is this?” he asked almost softly, before shaking his head, the sharpness and impatience returning to his voice. “Faramir, they took you and held you against your will. And now you’re protecting him?”

“Haldir, what exactly happened to the prisoner?” Arwen decided to get involved, stepping a little further into the room. Faramir looked at her nervously, an automatic reaction to her voice. Boromir noticed the movement, his eyes narrowing and his teeth setting at the realisation that Faramir knew all about Arwen’s little manipulations and politics. And it was hardly as though Arwen had any reservations of using sexuality as a weapon, either.

Haldir looked at her calmly, as though they were all friends.

“An escape bid,” he answered without a hint of nerves.

“A failed escape bid,” added Faramir hastily, not wishing to get Haldir in more difficulty. Arwen raised an eyebrow and gave a pointed look towards Faramir’s arm.

“And this could not have been solved without damaging him?” she asked softly.

“I did try and stab him,” protested Faramir. This was a sentence of great interest to the she-elf who raised an eyebrow and looked at Haldir enquiringly.

“Stab? To stab suggests some type of weapon was used. Now that is interesting, is it not?”

Boromir was still staring at him brother in sullen fury. “You’re still defending him,” he accused. Faramir glared back at him, allowing his full agitation and annoyance to show.

“I’m aware of what I’m doing, brother,” he growled back. The elves ignored the humans’ disagreement in their own conversation. Haldir shrugged idly.

“The situation is over anyway. I do not see how bringing it up again will assist in the boy’s recovery,” there was nothing in his voice that suggested any fear or concern for the situation. In fact, it almost sounded bored. However Faramir was shaken out of his mostly silent argument with Boromir to stare round at Haldir at the use of the phrase.

“Boy?!” he protested. Haldir’s eyes flickered on him briefly before returning to the she elf who was delicately pondering on the subject.

“Exactly where did this weapon come from?” she pointedly looked around the almost bare room before staring back at the pair in interest. Faramir paused, his eyes on Haldir, before turning to face Arwen.

“I don’t think it is particularly relevant,” the ranger answered.

“And yet I believe it is.” Arwen responded sweetly, before her voice sharpened. “Where did he get a weapon from, Haldir?”

Boromir had been staring at the elf in growing horror. “By the Valar, what did you do to him?”

At his brother’s movement towards Haldir again, Faramir shoved Boromir back hard, causing the older man to stumble. “Boromir, stop it. He didn’t do what you’re suggesting and it would hardly matter if he had,”

His brother stopped immediately, his eyes returning to Faramir’s in shock. Faramir could see the faint incomprehension in Boromir’s eyes coupled with a growing fear. The ranger felt a sickening thud in his stomach at his brother’s distress, and shook his head to emphasis that nothing had happened. Boromir laid his hand on Faramir’s shoulder, the ranger receiving a little more strength from his brother’s presence. Faramir smiled weakly at him, feeling happier as Boromir returned the smile, regardless of how obviously strained it was.

However, this was taking too much time for Arwen.

“This is becoming more perplexing by the minute,” she commented after watching the brothers for a moment. “Haldir, please enlighten me on what happened for this whole period?” Her voice was dry, assumptions already made.

Haldir shook his head. “I was seeing to the prisoner’s needs,” he replied shortly. Arwen’s eyebrow twitched upwards in faint amusement.

“And how literally were you taking this?” she asked quietly.

Faramir looked up in time to see a thunderous expression cross Boromir’s face. He moved with him to block his path to Haldir, his eyes pleading with his older brother, his hand already resting on the older man’s shoulder in case more than words would have to be used.

“Boromir…,” it was a warning and a plea.

“Faramir, stop protecting him!” snapped Boromir, unable to keep the level of anger out of his voice any further. There was a flicker of pain across Faramir’s face at his beloved brother’s raised tone, then a set expression settled in, a resolute coldness entering the ranger’s eyes.

“I don’t see why and I don’t see why you’re concerned. After all, I don’t complain about him do I?” his eyes flickered towards Aragorn, who had been watching the events unfold, then back on his brother. Boromir’s anger suddenly failed in the face of the different topic. Faramir could feel his brother’s nervousness increase, could almost feel him tremble.

“What do you mean by that?” Boromir was obviously cautious and reluctant. Faramir shook his head, feeling his own anger build against the man who had clearly affected his brother’s mind as well as taking his body. Boromir, a man who dearly valued his independence, his freedom, had already been enslaved by this man. Incredible, but true.

“Don’t try to explain, Boromir. I know what you and he have been doing. And you know I am well aware what sort of partners you normally prefer,” Faramir’s eyes were the coldest Boromir had ever seen from his normally patient and kind brother. It was almost his father staring back at him. Boromir swallowed and shook his head, hoping beyond hope that Aragorn would not pick up on Faramir’s words.

“Faramir, please, this is not the time-” he tried desperately.

Faramir laughed in genuine amusement. Aragorn raised his head slightly, looking at Boromir.

“What does he mean?” he asked.

Boromir did not dare to look towards his lover, feeling a sensation in his heart that was almost pain. The tone had already said that Aragorn was well aware of what Faramir was implying. The elder Gondorian hesitated, his eyes haunted.

“We’ll talk about it later, Aragorn,” he said finally. Faramir turned his attention onto the older man in the corner, the man who had forced his brother to perform acts that were so unnatural to him. The man, in fact, who had caused all these problems in the first place. And who was he anyway? No doubt some obscure political aspect of the elves, and further more this Aragorn-

Aragorn…

He knew that name…

Faramir’s eyes narrowed. No. It could not be. The fabled King of Gondor was only that. Fabled. His father had been very clear on the matter, and those matters that Denethor did not know of were not of interest. Besides which, the man standing in the corner was a ranger, that was clear to be seen. It was true he had proud bearings, but then he seemed to be connected to the elven kingdoms.

Aragorn noticed the younger man’s curious yet incensed glance towards him and sighed inwardly, meeting Faramir’s gaze almost mildly. Faramir frowned a little harder before sliding his eyes back to Boromir.

“I know you don’t like to sleep with men. Why should he be any different?” he asked, bluntly. At least Boromir’s attention was suddenly well away from trying to gut Haldir. In fact, he had never seen his brother look so lost for words, so vulnerable. Faramir felt the first pricklings of fear. Boromir shook his head and tried to avoid eye contact, achieving this by aiming such a poisonous look towards Haldir that a snake would have been proud of the effect. Haldir, as always, was unruffled.

It was Arwen who spoke first, amusement in her voice. “I would imagine the difference would be as a result of his lineage. The man in question is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. And,” she added almost helpfully. “your king,”

“What?” Faramir’s eyes fell back on Aragorn again, his voice only a mere whisper. However, the look that Aragorn received was not one of respect or dedication. It was sheer horror and a distinct level of disgust. Faramir snapped out of it and stared back at Boromir. “You believe this, I take it?”

“I believe him, yes,” Boromir’s voice was low. Faramir snorted, his eyes ablaze with barely restrained anger.

“Did he… order you to do this, brother?” Despite his annoyance, Faramir’s voice was still gentle, his good hand resting on Boromir’s arm. Boromir stared at him in surprise, then shook his head violently.

“No. By the Valar, of course not, Faramir. I did it because I wanted to,”

Aragorn thought of the drugs, the obvious persuasions of Arwen in his lover’s ear, and smiled grimly to himself. Arwen eyed her betrothed’s anguished expression thoughtfully before turning back to the two brothers.

“Fascinating as this all is, I believed you wished to move from this room?” she asked. Faramir glared towards her, suddenly reminded again of her presence. Her very voice managed to spark his desire to simply grab both Haldir and Boromir and just get them far away from this place.

“I hope everything worked out for you from this situation,” he spat. “From your treachery, kidnap and threats,”

“I confess myself satisfied with the results, certainly,” Arwen raised an eyebrow. “Thank you for your interest,” Her voice was dry and utterly unconcerned over the young human’s annoyance and distress. Faramir growled.

“And what exactly did you achieve? What did you get my brother to do? What was he supposed to persuade Aragorn of?” Faramir’s voice was bitter.

Arwen pursed her lips. She had forgotten exactly how much the young man had overheard whilst he was pretending to be ignorant of the elven language. Much as it grated her to confess, she had also forgotten how much like his brother Faramir actually was with regards to control over his mouth. She aimed a look towards Haldir who gave the slightest incline of his head and rested a hand on Faramir’s shoulder.

Faramir immediately glanced back, his hard expression softening. Boromir’s expression returned to that of extreme fury, glaring stonily at the elf as though wishing nothing more than to seize hold of him and to shake extremely hard.

“All this can be discussed later, Faramir,” Haldir murmured towards the young man. “We need to get you out of here,” Gentle fingers caressed the soft skin of Faramir’s neck. The dangerous growl that came from Boromir managed to still them, although Haldir refused to remove his hand entirely from Faramir’s shoulders.

However, obviously Boromir wished for more than simply stilling of the fingers.

“Let my brother go,” he growled through gritted teeth. Haldir met his gaze over Faramir’s shoulder, firm, proud and entirely intending to ignore the order.

“Your brother does not object to my touch,”

“Faramir is tired and mistreated under your control. He does not know what he wants. Whereas I do. Take your hands off him before I break your arm,” Boromir’s fury was clear, his words clipped and dangerous. “Like you did to his.”

“His injuries were unintentional,” Haldir still did not move his hand. Faramir looked from one face to the other, and sighed inwardly. Obviously he still was not regarded as being sensible enough to know his own mind.

“Boromir, leave him alone,” he said, feeling suddenly tired. And he was tired, it was true. His sleep, or at least what he was able to glean, had certainly been poor and interrupted. The fire was still burning in his arm, the pain a persistent agony in the back of his mind. His weariness must had been clear on his face as Boromir gave one last glare towards Haldir and nodded at his brother. The smile that Faramir gave him made a smile rise reluctantly to his own face.

“We need to get you into bed, little one,” Boromir said softly. His eyes met Haldir’s. Alone, they added firmly. Arwen took a step towards the door.

“Come with me. I will find you some quarters that will be more to your liking. Although you will not be able to walk unaccompanied through the halls, I might add.” She threw towards the young ranger.

“So my prison cell will simply become a more furnished one?” Faramir glared at her. Arwen laughed.

“You will be surprised how many cages there are which are well furnished,” she replied, almost to herself, then raised her voice. “ It will only be for a day or so, until you are recovered enough to make the journey to Minas Tirith. You will not be expected to do anything else. And your brother will be able to stay with you, should you wish,”

Faramir looked at his brother thoughtfully. The pleasure that having his beloved brother nearby was currently fighting with the unpleasant realisation that having Haldir and Boromir in the same room would invite trouble, if not the spilling of blood. The fact that Aragorn had also turned away at this suggestion had not escaped his notice.

“Thank you. But I do not wish to interrupt you, brother. You doubtless have things you need to do,” Faramir’s eyes flickered towards Aragorn again. Boromir growled in the back of his throat towards Haldir again, then managed to give himself in a position where he could look at his brother without the full force of his anger against the elf being known.

“I’ll find the time, Faramir,” he promised, and trailed off as Aragorn disappeared from the room without a word. Boromir paused, staring after him, then managed to shake himself into speech once again, although it was clear he had momentarily forgotten what he had been saying. “… you’ll need rest anyway,”

Faramir studied his brother in silence. Haldir’s fingers had begun to move once again, sending pleasant ticking sensation down his spine. There was a pointed cough from the other occupant of the room.

“I thought the pair of you wished for him to leave these chambers,” came Arwen’s dry voice. “if so, can we please move now? Or do you wish to have even more arguments before you could possibly grasp this concept?”

After a brief glare from the Gondorians, the little procession continued.

Faramir was fast asleep within half an hour, curled up in the large and comfortable elvish bed, just the top of his golden red curls showing past the blanket. They had managed to find him some leggings, although Boromir would have preferred a lot more clothing to cover his brother. Haldir still concerned him. The elf had disappeared once they had reached the door with just a quick word to Faramir, but Boromir knew that he would be back. The look of disappointment on Faramir’s face had not been missed either.

Boromir ground his teeth. If he had his way, Haldir wouldn’t be anywhere near them. For that matter, Haldir certainly wouldn’t have the same pompous air that he always had, the disapproval clear on his face. No, he would have suffered everything that he had made Faramir suffer.

The Gondorian kissed the top of Faramir’s head gently. So very firmly asleep. Boromir doubted whether he would have woken should the door be slammed as hard as possible, but he deserved the time to himself. Boromir had taken the opportunity to check over the rest of Faramir’s body whilst the young man was changing, and this had been allowed with a resigned air as though his little brother had worked out that there was no other way to convince his brother that nothing else had occurred. Of course, Boromir had to take Faramir’s word that nothing sexual had happened. If Haldir had even touched his brother in that manner, the elf would be looking at two broken arms, politics or no politics.

Giving a light sigh, Boromir looked at him a little longer, feeling some of the fears melt away. Not that he could properly relax until they had been properly released, that Faramir was back in Minas Tirith where he belonged, and with a stern letter to their father about keeping him safe. Boromir paused. Possibly not a stern letter. No, in fact, any thing at all. It would only serve to increase Denethor’s assumption that Faramir was unable to deal with anything.

Boromir glanced towards the door of the room as it started to open, his eyes already narrowed in annoyance. However, it was no elf that entered.

“Aragorn,” there was obvious relief and pleasure in Boromir’s voice as he stepped forward to receive his lover. “There you are. I was about to come and search for you,”

“Were you?” the ranger commented idly, crossing the floor to look down at Faramir’s sleeping form. “I see,”

Boromir recognised the tones of rejection, and frowned.

“Are you okay?”

The ranger didn’t answer, simply staring down at what little he could see of Faramir with a look of deep concentration. Boromir began to get more than a little worried. Stepping forward, he put his hand on Aragorn’s shoulder which seemed to immediately take on the consistency of stone. Boromir frowned harder.

“What’s the matter?” he asked softly. There was a soft laugh.

“Matter? Nothing’s the matter. Everything’s worked out fine, hasn’t it? You have your brother back, Arwen has her succession confirmed, your brother finds a new lover and everything’s fine.” Aragorn replied coolly, without bothering to look at the man he was speaking with. “Why should anything be that matter?”

The Gondorian paused, just watching him warily. He had never been good at the discussion part of any relationship, and he could almost sense that whatever he said was likely to cause more hurt than Aragorn already had. Boromir tried to squeeze his hand in support but Aragorn resisted. Boromir could almost see the frown already appearing on the ranger’s face.

“What will you do with Haldir?” asked Aragorn finally, completely ignoring his lover’s action. However, Boromir managed to resist this particular change of conversation.

“Aragorn, you know I enjoy our time together, don’t you?”

Silence. The ranger simply stared at Faramir a little longer, and gently rested his hand on the sleeping mound’s shoulder. There was a faint little moan, like a kitten being gently washed by its mother, before Faramir settled back to sleep again. Boromir tried again.

“Aragorn, please. Speak to me,”

“And say what, exactly?” Aragorn’s voice was low, hard, but there was a level of detachment that suggested that the ranger was attempting to shove the emotional difficulties to the back of his mind. “Boromir, you were forced into sleeping with me. I know that. You know that. Arwen certainly knows that through all the effort she put in. And from that point on it’s been some form of persuasion keeping you going. Once your brother has gone back to Minas Tirith, there would be no need for you to continue. Unless, of course,” here Aragorn’s voice dropped a little lower. “you wished to ensure that you still obtained a good political position with the King of Gondor.”

Boromir stared at him, a dull anger beginning to build. “For the Valar’s sake, Aragorn, I would still be sleeping with you because I believed we were lovers, not some sort of political game.” He managed to keep his voice low due to his brother, but it was still loud enough in the room.

“You honestly believed that? You were told what to think and what to do and you still believe we were lovers?” there was no mistaking the bitterness in Aragorn’s voice. “No. You did what you had to do, and that was it.”

“For pity’s sake!” Boromir growled, grabbing onto Aragorn’s arm and forcing him to face him. “I might be dedicated to my country, but that’s too far even for me! Aragorn, I did the majority of it because I wanted to. You know I could have easily escaped a lot of your attentions in these past days, but I didn’t. I wanted to be with you. If you’re too bloody pig-headed to see it that’s your own problem!”

“Have you been with any other men other than myself?” asked Aragorn calmly. There was a noticeable hesitation from Boromir. “I see.”

“That doesn’t prove anything,” snapped Boromir hotly. “Just because I don’t roll around in the hay with every man I meet doesn’t mean that it’s not possible that I could be attracted to one.”

“You sleep with women?” still the steady voice.

“I’m no saint. I have to sleep with someone, and the horses really don’t appeal.” Boromir folded his arms. “Besides which, it’s expected. Father has already complained that no heir has been produced yet,”

“I see.”

“And stop saying I see!” Boromir exploded. “It’s hardly as if you’re betrothed to be married or anything, is it?”

“That’s entirely different.” At least the calmness was beginning to falter. Annoyance was beginning to make an appearance in Aragorn’s voice.

“How, exactly?!” Boromir was about to add a little bit more to this when the movement on the bed caused him to pause mid-snap. Surprised blue eyes were looking back at them over the blanket. Boromir cursed himself for making too much noise and made a soothing noise which obviously baffled Aragorn. The ranger glanced over his shoulder and met the wary eyes of Faramir watching him.

“Oh,” Aragorn moved to be able to see him properly. “My apologises. We did not mean to be so loud,”

“How are you feeling, little brother?” Boromir’s voice sounded as though he had never had a bad thought in his life. He moved to crouch by his brother’s bedside, putting his hand on Faramir’s forehead as though testing for fever. However, Faramir was obviously not focusing on any injury he might have.

“Don’t worry about me. Go on with your argument,” there was a sleepy quality to Faramir’s voice, but the clearness was still firmly present. Boromir hesitated and resisted looking in Aragorn’s direction.

“It wasn’t an argument. It was more a… disagreement,”

Faramir simply looked at him patiently. Boromir sighed, his hand dropping away from Faramir’s forehead.

“Okay, so there might have been argument qualities to the said disagreement, but-”

“You were arguing about your relationship, weren’t you.” There was a sorrowful expression in Faramir’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause it. I was just a little tired, and when you didn’t leave Haldir alone I just had to focus on something else.”

It was a lie, Faramir knew it was a lie, but in the face of Boromir’s obvious dedication to Aragorn the younger ranger couldn’t bring himself to admit anything else. He had caused this damage, and he would be damned if he was going to add to it. Faramir still could not understand how his beloved brother had managed to swop his desires so easily and quickly, but what he couldn’t understand didn’t mean it couldn’t happen.

“You didn’t cause it,” said Aragorn quietly, cutting through the younger man’s thoughts. “It was an argument that would have happened regardless of your words. Might I see your arm, please?”

Faramir looked at him distrustfully. His arm had only just gone into the quiet throbs of mere pain, and another healer poking him was not the most appealing, King of Gondor or no. However, he simply moved the blanket away and lay back, allowing Aragorn access. The ranger began to check the bandage, ensuring it had not slipped through Faramir’s sleep.

“How does it feel?” Aragorn was suddenly all business.

“Painful, but bearable,” Realising Aragorn was only really assessing it, Faramir relaxed a little more. His eyes flickered towards his brother again. Aragorn chose to ignore this factor and simply continued to ensure that Faramir was healing reasonably. Faramir yawned widely, like a lion after a good meal, and blinked sleepily towards Aragorn.

“Rest, young one,” the king smiled at him, and resisted the urge to ruffle the young man’s hair.

“Will you two be fighting if I do?” wary caution had re-entered Faramir’s voice. Aragorn shook his head.

“Of course not,”

The ranger could feel the dubious gaze of both Gondorians on him at that little statement. Boromir gave a half laugh and walked towards the window, gazing out of it. Aragorn resisted the urge to glance at him, and simply smiled again at Faramir. Obviously working out that he was unlikely to get any further assurances, Faramir settled back against his pillows and fought against his eyes closing.

Aragorn relaxed a little more as Faramir’s breathing slowed, showing that the younger ranger must indeed have been exhausted. He adjusted the blankets and stepped back, before turning. Boromir’s glare hit him immediately.

“So,”

“Not here, Boromir,” sighed Aragorn. “We’ve already woken him up once.”

“I’m not letting that elf anywhere near him,” Boromir’s voice was determined. “If we go somewhere, he’s bound to turn up. He touches my brother again and he’s going to live throughout his years with missing teeth.”

“You always did have a way with words,” the ranger began to walk towards the door. He could see Boromir watching him, torn between following his lover and staying to protect his brother. Aragorn paused.

“We can wait outside the door. Haldir might be enterprising, but I doubt even he would bother to climb through the window.” Aragorn waited until a grudging acceptance had appeared on Boromir’s face and nodded, walking again.

“So it’s done,” Haldir folded his arms and watched the elf princess as she carefully poured a glass of wine. Arwen turned her head to give him a cool look, then continued with her task.

“I would not say done as such. He still needs to get to Gondor. Indeed, he still needs to be crowned. I understand that the Steward might be a little less forgiving of the king than his sons seem to be,” Arwen took a mouthful of wine and nodded in satisfaction. “ However, I confess myself pleased with the outcome. If Aragorn is not crowned king, it will not be as a result of him. When Aragorn says he will do something, he will do it.”

“If he survives,”

“Granted, if he survives,” Arwen shrugged her shoulders. “ However, I have faith in him. Humans are very difficult to kill off, it seems, and I have to admit that I would be most upset should he fall.”

“Come now,” snorted Haldir. “It’s hardly as if you love him. We both know that he serves a purpose, nothing more.”

Arwen was silent, staring down at her glass of wine thoughtfully. “ You make it sound as though I would not care whether he should live or die,” she said softly. Haldir frowned, unable to read the neutral expression that was fixed upon the she-elf’s face.

“Well, obviously it would be inconvenient after all this time,”

“Inconvenient. I see.” Arwen smiled to herself, twirling the glass stem in her fingers. “I am betrothed to him. Should this not be enough, he is also my little foster brother. Do you really think me that hard?”

“Yes,” Haldir raised an eyebrow. “So you have grown fond of him. That is only natural. But do not suggest to me that you would not sacrifice him in an instant if it would be of benefit.”

“I would imagine he is to me as your little ranger is to you. How is Faramir, incidentally?” Clear blue eyes rested on Haldir thoughtfully. The elf paused, his eyes narrowing.

“He is fine,” he said shortly. “Not that his barbarian of a brother won’t try to ruin this. Obviously Faramir obtained all the brains in that family. And he is entirely different.”

“Oh, good. How?”

“I understand that you will not even sleep with Aragorn,” Haldir’s eyes were hard. “We both know that the excuse of marriage is a poor one, Arwen. You are not exactly innocent in the ways of seduction.”

“And by that I assume that you have slept with your little ranger?”

“Please stop calling him my little ranger. He is not my toy. And, strictly speaking, I have not slept with him. However, that is not through lack of interest on either side, I might add. I do not do it out of duty.” Haldir folded his arms stubbornly.

“Duty?” echoed Arwen softly.

“Duty,” repeated Haldir stubbornly. The she elf looked at him thoughtfully.

“And when he returns to Minas Tirith? You will simply let him leave without… realising his potential?” she asked even softer. “It seems a waste to me. You know that his father will never let him mix company with an elf such as yourself.”

“Just as you know his father will never let your betrothed simply take the crown of Gondor. The king has been absent for too long, Arwen. Most other kingdoms would have already crowned the steward as the rightful leader,” Haldir shook his head slightly. “You do not face an easy task, even with Aragorn’s assistance.”

“And the elder son already loyal to Aragorn’s rule? It might be difficult, but I do not believe Denethor would be able to resist for long. Not if he is handled effectively,”

Haldir watched her cautiously. There were many different levels of politics and efficient service. Certainly several of them were more than a little lethal. Arwen took in the expression being aimed at her and sighed.

“Boromir might be under Aragorn’s thumb, but I doubt whether this hold would be enough to allow us to murder his father. I intend to persuade Denethor through less harsh methods, mostly likely an offer of one of the smaller provinces nearby. Ithilien, for example. He will obtain his own independence whilst also finally being recognised as royalty.” Arwen shrugged. “He might be a stubborn, explosive man, but at least he does have the ability to see the most profitable route.”

Haldir relaxed a little more. However, Arwen had not finished.

“And there we have the problem. Aragorn’s relationship with Boromir could be easily seen as a suitable political match. Your relationship – or whatever you wish to describe it as – with the younger son might cause unnecessary friction. Perhaps it might be best-”

“No.” Haldir straightened his back. Arwen raised an eyebrow.

“No?” she echoed. “You have not even heard my proposals and you say no so firmly now?”

Haldir shook his head. “If I wish to continue with seeing the younger son I will do so, without political interference or plotting.”

Arwen sighed patiently, although holding onto her anger. “The father will banish him. The elder brother wishes to disembowel you. You will have political interference whether you wish for it or no. Use it instead. Control it, and you will succeed. Ignore it at your own peril,”

“I owe it to him,”

“You do not owe it to him. I assume little Faramir used every trick available to him to get out of his imprisonment, did he not?” Dark eyes rested on him carefully. “Just as I assume that the initial contact between you was planned and executed by your innocent little ranger. You never did explain fully how he managed to get to the point where a broken arm would have been necessary to stop him escaping.”

“Didn’t I?” Haldir looked back at her steadily. “My apologises.”

Explanations were still not forthcoming, as Arwen knew they would not be. She sighed again and turned to the window, staring out.

“When will you go?” she asked idly.

“When the boy is well enough to travel. We will take him back. The route from Rivendell to Gondor becomes ever more dangerous each day that passes,” Haldir felt a little more comfortable off the subject of Faramir. Arwen nodded, almost to herself.

“I would imagine this is not assisted by the fact we have both the Captains of Gondor here at Rivendell,” she said, almost amused. “ The sooner we get Faramir back to a position that he can actually assist Gondor the better. These will soon be my lands, as well as his own. I do not like the idea of marauding bands attacking it without fear of defences,”

“Your concern is heart-warming,” Haldir replied dryly. Arwen turned her head to give him a hard look.

“Did you not have other places to be, Haldir?”

The elf smiled to himself, and disappeared through the door.

The argument had not started immediately at the door shutting once again. However, there was a cold silence between them. Boromir had already worked himself up into a mental state of agitation, distress and fear fighting strongly against the anger. He paced down the corridor and turned back again, like a tiger in a too small cage. Aragorn watched him stonily, arms folded.

Boromir glanced at him finally, having avoided eye contact for a few minutes.

“So you believe I’m whoring myself out? Is that it?” he almost snarled it, although some control still lingered in the background. Aragorn’s expression didn’t change.

“You mean you’re not?” he said softly. “Face facts, Boromir. You did this out of concern for your brother and your love for your country. I am not saying that these are not noble reasons for sacrificing yourself. I am, however, saying such motivations do not make a relationship. Many people enjoy their work.”

Boromir whirred round on his heel and glared at him.

“Aragorn,” he said, and despite his voice being controlled Aragorn could still hear the shake in it. “Please believe me when I say that even if Faramir had not been involved and Gondor remained untouched by anything we did, I would still be here. For pity’s sake, Aragorn, I –”

He broke off again and started to pace again, a slight shake of the head. Aragorn continued to watch him without a flicker of emotion, a turn of the head, a move of a muscle. Boromir lifted his head slightly when Aragorn finally spoke again, his soft voice slightly echoing in the corridor.

“So you wish to continue?”

Their eyes met as though two animals vying over dominance. There was a long silence. Boromir’s gaze didn’t falter in the slightest as he straightened his back and squared his shoulders.

“I do. But not if you believe that I would be there for ulterior motives. Politics can be kept aside,”

Aragorn laughed softly and sadly. “But I would be your king, Boromir. If Arwen has her way, of course. Your influence over me would be seen to be one of the most political in the kingdom. You cannot keep the politics aside, for they will not go,”

“In that case I will ignore the politics then. Sure, they may not ignore me. In fact, politics seem to go out of their way to gang up on myself and my brother, which is simply a fact of my position. A position directly underneath you will not make a huge amount of difference.” Boromir stared back at him defiantly.

There was another silence as both men simply looked at each other.

“And what of Arwen?” Aragorn spoke first. Boromir frowned as though the name was unfamiliar to him, although Aragorn could see the slight shiver in Boromir’s shoulders.

“What of her?” Boromir’s voice was rough and blunt. Aragorn shrugged lightly.

“She would forever be with us. She will be my wife,” he watched the torn look cross openly on Boromir’s face. The younger man struggled to say something.

“You will still marry her?” It was supposed to come out harsh. It came out questioning and cautious, an animal who had been tormented over time. Aragorn nodded his head slowly, upset by the look of fear that crossed so quickly over Boromir’s face that it was as though he had imagined it. But it had been there, no question about that.

“We are all but destined to be joined. I cannot leave her now,” Aragorn said quietly. “And, for all that she has done, I cannot bring myself to simply condemn her. Could I say, if I were in her position, that I would have not done the same?”

Boromir moved slowly towards him, his green eyes fixed on his king. “You would threaten someone to do your bidding? You would kidnap a boy and keep him locked away until your political aims have been met, causing him obvious pain and distress during this?” he asked slowly. “I would hope you wouldn’t,”

“I know how badly she wants to get out of this place,” Aragorn shook his head, then glanced back. “And I’m not sure how happy Faramir would be to hear you call him a boy, either,”

“And what happens when she badly wants something else? What next will she do?” Boromir was incredulous. Aragorn was silent, simply looking back at him. With a hiss of annoyance, Boromir turned to pace up and down the corridor again, this time in thought. The idea of having Arwen as his queen was not appealing. She could legally kill Faramir whenever she felt like, send him off on a mission that would have been foolhardy at best. And Faramir, loyal Faramir, would try his hardest, regardless of whether that would put his life at risk.

Boromir’s eyes flickered to Aragorn again. He knew that Aragorn wouldn’t blame Faramir, would think long and hard about sending any of the teams on a purposeful mission. However, Aragorn was one man. One person to control her. Unless…

Aragorn frowned as a particularly unfocused but hard look crossed Boromir’s face.

“Boromir?”

But Boromir wasn’t listening. He was still focusing on the other person who could possibly influence Arwen, to possibly protect his brother from any attack that might come. But to accept this would be to accept the fact that the elf’s hands would be all over his brother, to accept this ‘relationship’ that had obviously simply resulted from a captor-prisoner situation.

However, when it came to it, what other options did he have?

This would not be easy.

To Be Continued…

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