Faramir Fiction Archive

Anywhere With You (NC-17)

Written by Kissa

20 September 2006 | 12845 words

Chapter 6

In Henneth Annûn, Boromir was greeted by Mablung. Although he knew the ranger to be a man of few words, he noticed Mablung was only speaking when spoken to or when etiquette required it, his eyes never rising to meet Boromir’s own.

After exchanging a report and the new orders from Minas Tirith, the two men stood at the entrance of the cave, where the roar of the falls granted them the possibility to speak undisturbed. Boromir placed a hand on the older man’s shoulder and asked as gently as he could:

“What is it, dear friend? Why will you not look at me? You know you can always speak to me, because although I am not my perceptive father or little brother, even I can sense now that something is wrong. It has been so ever since I got here.”

“Boromir, you asked earlier where Faramir was and the rangers said he was away. I am afraid he is away in more than one sense.” Mablung spoke with difficulty.

“W-what happened?” Boromir stammered. He had thought his little brother was merely out on patrol. “What do you mean by that? Where is Faramir? Don’t be cryptic and don’t spare me, I want the truth!” He almost shouted, his whole body beginning to shake with the chilling thought that something terrible had come upon his little brother.

“He was… wounded by orcs. They were more numerous and fiercer than usual and Faramir insisted that we should exterminate the whole band. He took two poisoned arrows and although it was a common poison, he didn’t recover from the treatment I gave him… So I had him sent to Dol Amroth, hoping Imrahil will know a better way to cure him. I’m so sorry it happened like this… He kept calling for you in his feverish dreams.” Mablung blurted out in one breath, still not daring to look the Steward’s son in the eyes.

“It’s not your fault, Mablung. I know Faramir tends to be reckless at times, especially when he is here in Ithilien, because he feels unnecessary bravery will bring him father’s admiration… I understand that all too well, but you should not blame yourself. Still, I need to ride out again at once. I will leave you to lead the men as you did so far. I must see Faramir, and I would be grateful if father were not to learn of this.”

Mablung simply nodded and said:

“Go, Boromir, hurry.”

Boromir mounted without further discussion and rode his steed into exhaustion, stopping only when it was impossible to carry on. He let the horse rest then rode on again, until he reached Dol Amroth.

Bursting in Imrahil’s main hall, he roared:

“Faramir! I want to see Faramir, now!”

His chest was heaving, his eyes were filled with tears caused by the dust the fast riding had risen, and his body could go on no more, but he needed to make sure his brother knew he had come for him.

Imrahil stood up and abandoned the dinner table, nodding softly and saying:

“Follow me.”

He led Boromir up a flight of stairs, down some halls and finally into his private wing, to the bright, clean room Faramir was resting in.

“Stay with him, save him.” Imrahil softly spoke. Boromir knew the prince of Dol Amroth loved his brother dearly, maybe more than he loved him, but he had never envied that.

Imrahil touched his arm lightly.

“If you need anything, there is a guard at the end of the hall. I will have dinner sent up, and fresh bandages and cloths.”

Boromir nodded and left the prince outside, entering the room alone and with his eyes closed, praying that his little brother would not be in as poor a state as he feared.

Opening his eyes, he saw Faramir lying on the wide bed, apparently sleeping. His upper body shone against the dark-colored sheets and blankets, in which he was thoroughly tucked. The little one’s hair was mussed and matted from sweat, and only his faintly fluttering eyelids led Boromir to believe he was still alive. Faramir’s face, normally fair beyond what was common for men in Gondor, was now ashen with a slight hue of green.

Boromir nearly ran over to the bed and stopped himself from jumping onto it, afraid to disturb his brother’s rest. But he had to check, to make sure his little one was coming back to him, that he heard his beckoning to return to the world of the living.

He took off his travel clothes and, once he was left in his leggings and shirt, he sat down near Faramir, leaning in to kiss his cold brow tenderly and to remove a few locks of clingy, damp hair.

“Faramir, love, I’m here now. I came to take care of you. Please return to me, I know you can hear me…Please… It kills me to see you thus.” He whispered against his younger brother’s temple.

Faramir stirred slightly and made the smallest move to burrow into Boromir’s warmth…but Boromir stroked him lovingly and moved away, going to the adjacent bathing room, where he bathed himself and slipped into clean clothes before joining his brother in bed.

First he lifted the covers to look at the wounds and saw that Faramir wore nothing besides a small loincloth, as towels had been placed beneath him on the bed and wet dressings covered his torso in an attempt to drain out the fever. Removing the damp cloths, Boromir saw the wounds, one near the shoulder on the left side and one between the ribs on the right side. The wounds had been cauterized with a hot blade, and in that, Denethor’s first born recognized Mablung’s inspired hand. It must have been the same Ranger who had sucked out the most of the poison and disinfected the wounds with rye alcohol, which every ranger carried with him at all time.

He shivered at the thought of how much pain Faramir had had to endure and how much pain he was still in. He left his brother’s side only to look in his pack and retrieve the healing salve Mithrandir had given him. Opening the small jar, he smeared generous amounts of it on both wounds, lingering over each dent just to make sure. He found himself strangely thrilled by the fact he could take care of his brother and heal him in this manner. To some extent, being able to soothe his brother’s pain was restoring his self-confidence, the one that Théodred had so brutally shattered.

Boromir replaced the cloths with clean ones, previously dipped in cold water, and wrapped Faramir tightly in a soft warm blanket. It was only when Faramir nestled back into deep sleep, curling himself around Boromir’s body, that he allowed his own exhaustion to take over and push him into slumber as well.

---

Days passed by, but Boromir could not tell. He only focused on his brother and guessing his needs, helping him in every way he could, watching over him and holding him in his healing sleep. He saw a slight improvement, his brother’s skin having ceased to be clammy and the soft delirious whispers having disappeared as well. Slowly, Faramir was coming back to him, and all this time he spoke to him softly and caressed him everywhere he could reach, his hands lovingly mapping every exposed inch of his brother’s body, relaxing all the stiff muscles. Not once did he experience un-brotherly thoughts, although his heart resounded with compassion for his little one, every time he ran his palms over faintly twitching muscles and cold thighs.

Faramir had lost a lot of weight since he had fallen ill. Boromir noticed that while he carried his little brother to the bathing room and lowered him carefully into the tub to give him a bath, acting as if Faramir was sleeping, not unconscious.

Then one day, not too long after Boromir began to tend to him, Faramir awoke, and the first thing he did was smile up at his brother who was bent over him, smearing salve over his wounds.

Boromir’s heart skipped a few consecutive beats and he felt like someone had lifted him up from his skin and flew with him high into the sky. He smiled back and reached up to caress his little one’s face.

“Faramir!” He exclaimed, the name bearing all his joy.

The younger man’s mouth formed the word “Boromir!” but it came out soundlessly, and Faramir had to lick and bite at his chapped lips to be able to finally say:

”Boromir!” The word was accompanied by another heart-melting smile. “I had lost hope we’d ever meet! I wanted to die in a dignified way so father would at least respect me a bit after that…”

“If you weren’t so ill and frail already, I’d smack your cheeky bottom for that! Do you have any idea what I’ve been through all this time seeing you almost gone? I began to die inside!” Boromir whispered, trying to hold back tears.

He leaned in and hugged Faramir tightly, saying:

“Don’t ever do anything like that! You’ll kill me before you die yourself! I love you so much, my Faramir!”

My Faramir, not little brother, Faramir noted, in the same instant feeling a hot drop on his neck, realizing Boromir was now shaking with silent tears.

And it dawned on him then: who needed Denethor’s approval when they were loved by the best man ever to have walked Arda?

“Bori, I was so afraid…” He spoke after a while. “I was so afraid the orcs would catch me, so I jumped in front of the arrows. I know what they do to their prisoners and… I never would have been able to hold my promise to you.”

Boromir raised green eyes blurry with tears to look at him in reproach.

“And you prefer yourself dead than loved by me?”

Another truth dropped on Faramir with the weight of his brother’s suffering. It wasn’t just about him… Boromir loved him no matter what, but most of all he wanted him alive and by his side.

“I’m so sorry, Bori. I’ll never put us through this again…” He promised.

“You’d better stick to that, beloved. I am not man enough for another blow like this.” Boromir said.

“Boromir?”

“Yes?”

“I’m hungry…”

Boromir made to get up and fetch some fruit from the table, but Faramir’s thin hand rested on his arm.

“… hungry for you.” The words were spoken so softly that Boromir thought they were uttered only inside his head. But his brother’s lean arms caught him and drew him nearer, and he felt like he was born a second time when Faramir took his mouth.

“Wait, little one… we cannot…not like this…” Boromir said, the few words costing him every ounce of self-control. Although it was done quite innocently, his mouth was ravished by Faramir. He wanted his brother like he wanted his next breath, he had felt so since he had noticed Faramir had switched from cute to gorgeous a few years before…

But they had to keep the secret from everyone.

“Imrahil…he’ll find us.” Boromir objected as his brother began to suck at a surprisingly sensitive patch of skin on the side of his neck.

“He knows… he’s seen it somehow. Or felt it, I cannot be sure.” Faramir purred.

“No, I say.” Boromir moved away. It still did not feel right… He did not feel safe, and the fact their uncle knew he desired his brother and him alone was unsettling. He had waited so long…he would wait some more… until the end of time if he had to, but nothing and no one would come between him and Faramir.

“But…Bori… I want…” Faramir began, his lower lip projecting outward into a pout.

A loving palm came to rest on his lips.

“Now we rest, little brother. Then we tell everybody you have been returned to us.” Boromir said, then, at the sight of his brother’s pain-filled eyes, he added impishly: “Then we ride to Henneth Annûn. Alone.” His groin stirred in anticipation and contentment and Faramir’s hips made the smallest instinctive movement to rise and meet his.

“Soon, little brother…” Boromir purred.

He kept stroking Faramir’s face and then turned him around, cradling him against his chest, caressing his arms and chest until they both fell into a restful sleep.

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