Faramir Fiction Archive

Busy Bee (PG-13)

Written by Kissa

29 February 2008 | 1117 words

Author’s Note: Faramir is fluffy the element here, Boromir means business. Written for the 25fluffyfics table.
Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters, I merely borrow them a bit for some fun and games, but I promise to return them in proper conditions.
Prompt: 2. Hobbies.

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Faramir loved his books.

On rainy days, or in winter when his room got too cold, he would sneak out and go to the library. It was old and dusty because ever since Denethor had become Steward, few people had set foot beyond the massive oak wood door.

But Faramir was fascinated with the wealth of old books there, the library was his realm where he could imagine he was the ruler over a silent folk of books and scrolls which brought him so much joy every time he came here. He had found many Elvish scrolls, which had proven very useful in allowing him to work on his Elvish language and dialects. There were also books on herb lore and healing, which he had devoured eagerly, knowing that a Ranger was not really a Ranger if he wasn’t also a skilled healer. He had cured his little friends, a squirrel which had fallen from a tree, some birds, one of Boromir’s cats and his own hamster when it had caught a cold. And many things he had tried on himself, making salves and balms for treating cuts, scrapes and deeper wounds, and massage oils to relieve his sore muscles after long hours of sword practice.

He was never unoccupied, either looking after a small animal, or trying to make and improve a medicine, or reading some more, curled up on the window sill in the library. At fourteen, he was probably the busiest young inhabitant of Minas Tirith, while other boys his age were lounging in haylofts or chasing giggling girls. Batting long eyelashes had never managed to lure him, but he couldn’t say if he had ever been the object of that attention, as his mind was almost never in the same place as his body.

This ability of his to let his mind fly away came very handy when his father would call him to his office and question him strictly about his progress with weapons and war strategy. Somehow, the Steward was never pleased, but Faramir knew he’d never live up to the standards his brother had set in their father’s eyes. And little did he care, as long as he could pursue his own interests when no one was there to check on him.

It didn’t mean he wasn’t working hard to become a good warrior. But he knew that strengthening his muscles and working on his sword handling technique was not enough. He knew there was also another side to a skilled warrior, which had nothing to do with raw muscle power.

He loved archery. He loved it so much that he was capable of staying in the archery field even if rain was pouring over the land, making him wet to the bone. Archery allowed him to unite his mind with his body, it let him follow the arrow as it hit its target flawlessly over and over again. He did not know why or how he already knew the things the archery master told him. It was as if another Faramir, in another world, had already shot a bow countless times and had gone to sleep only to awaken inside him, inhabiting him fully when his own hands were on the bow and arrow.

Because the Steward preferred not having him in his sight, Faramir had a lot of free time on his hands, which he filled up judiciously with his efforts to educate and improve himself. He couldn’t wait to tell Boromir and to show him! How he could split an apple into four pieces with only one arrow, shot from way across the archery field. How he had translated the first four tomes of Elvish history and still had only five pages to do from the last tome. How he had healed Pera’s injured leg and broken tail with what he had learned from books he’d found in Ecthelion’s part of the library. He knew Boromir would be happy to find his cat in good health, because Pera was his favorite pet.

It was yet another rainy day and Faramir was drying himself up after a long training session in the archery fields. He had a towel around his hips and one in his hands, with which he dried his hair. Pera and four other cats were sitting on the furs in the middle of the bed, looking at him carefully as if assessing the changes his body had undergone.

Suddenly the door to his room and Boromir’s burst open and on its threshold stood Boromir himself, with eyes lighting up as soon as they took in the image of Faramir’s lithe, white and elegant frame.

“Little brother!” The words were out right before Borormir’s larger frame crashed into his, wrapping him in a bear hug. The rough textures of Boromir’s clothes chafed his sensitive, bare skin, but the feeling was exhilarating.

“Boromir, you are back!” Farmir gasped out, taken completely by surprise and joy making it very hard for him to speak without bursting into tears.

“I have come for you.” Boromir said and threw him easily, yet carefully, onto the bed. The cats barely moved, only made room for Faramir to land on the furs without squashing any of them.

Faramir was puzzled. Had Boromir really missed him that much? Or what did he mean with that ravenous look in his emerald eyes, with his few words that made Faramir’s spine feel painful all of the sudden.

Boromir’s hands came up on his belly, chest and arms, tickling him.

“Boromir…” He gasped, as the tickling didn’t feel like any of the times before. “Boromir, I’ve learned so much… you will be pleased.”

The look on Boromir’s face as he lay down next to him was definitely predatory and he heard his older brother speak in a soft rumble right next to his neck:

“I’ve learned but one thing… and I hope you will like it, beloved.”

All thoughts of books, limping cats and healing balms flew out of Faramir’s head as he felt his brother’s hand sneak on his inner thigh, and further up under the towel…

END!

Kissa’s 25fluffyfics

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