Faramir Fiction Archive

Cedar and Cloves (PG)

19 December 2010 | 7721 words

Title: Cedar and Cloves
Author: Mira Took
Pairings: Faramir/Elladan/Elrohir; Aragorn/Boromir
Rating: PG
Summary: AU. The sons of Elrond visit Minas Tirith.
Disclaimer: The characters and settings are Professor Tolkien’s. I have no permissions and make no profits.

A/N: To fit the request, Aragorn became King of Gondor in TA 2994. As in the original timeline, Boromir was sixteen years old at this date and Faramir was eleven. However, their grandfather, the Ruling Steward Ecthelion II, lived ten years longer in this AU. Realizing the growing threat of the Shadow, Ecthelion tracked down “Captain Thorongil,” who had won the battle of Umbar for him back in 2980 and whom he had somehow recognized to be the rightful King. Instead of the rulership passing to Denethor at the old Steward’s death, Ecthelion returned the crown to Aragorn. The current story takes place in 3003: King Elessar has been on the throne for nine years; Denethor is the Steward; Boromir is twenty-five and leads the Guard of the Tower; Faramir is twenty and has just come of age; and the Ringwraiths are still fifteen years away from setting out for the Shire.

Written for the 2010 Midwinter Swap.

Request by darkstar0203: Elladan/Elrohir/Faramir. AU. Aragorn is king of Gondor, possibly when the brothers are still young. Denethor is manipulative, trying to turn his sons against the king, and Faramir wanting his father’s approval is wary and distant of Aragorn. The Twins visit Aragorn and take a liking to Denethor’s youngest son and despite Faramir’s avoidance are persistent in courting him leading to much exasperation on Fara’s side. Flustered, shy and insecure!Faramir is preferred along with trying-to-act-tough-and-cold!Faramir. Persistant and mischievous!Twins. Naive!Boro whose being wooed by Amused!Aragorn. I’d like it more light and fun concentrating on the courting of Fara with just a bit of Denethor’s manipulating in the background. Bottom!Faramir is preferred. Extra points if over protective brother!Boro confronts the Twins after their night together leading to embarrassed!Fara.

Chapter 1

Placing his right foot firmly on the forty-seventh step of the spiral staircase while his left balanced on the forty-sixth, Faramir braced his hands on either side of the narrow window ledge and heaved himself up onto it. Standing here, where an archer would be positioned during a siege, he could see out the narrow slit of a window down to the Third Circle Gate below. Faramir leaned his cheek against the cool stone and watched the old mulberry tree that grew up the side of the gatehouse sway in the wind. He’d come here often when he was small, to watch visitors enter the White City. He wasn’t sure why he’d come today. The King’s guests would be greeted by all the Steward’s family tonight, in the West Antechamber as was proper. Faramir’s clothes had already been laid out for him by one of his father’s servants and he had received a note detailing the sort of conversation he should make: mostly suggestions for smooth follow-ups to any spontaneous and over-cheerful remarks his brother might advance. Denethor approved of Boromir’s hearty goodwill when expressed to soldiers or common citizenry. Nevertheless, in the presence of the King, the Steward’s family were to be decorous at all times. Faramir would try his best to be civil but aloof tonight, as he always did whenever he came in contact with Elessar. But he supposed there was no harm in merely seeing the visitors beforehand. After all, it was many centuries since the City had last hosted Elves…

A single clear note on a horn preceded the King’s party through the gate. Elessar rode at the front talking with Boromir, who as Warden of the White Tower had led the King’s escort for the last leg of the journey. Faramir’s brother was laughing about something and – were he not a king – the expression on Elessar’s face could rightly have been called a grin. Faramir supposed they were talking about sword practice. When the King had offered to tutor Boromir alongside a few of the most promising members of the Tower Guard, Denethor had searched furiously for a reason to refuse. He could hardly say that the heir of the House of Mardil did not deserve the King’s attention, when common guardsmen were being granted the same honor. Nor could he argue that there was a teacher more suited to Boromir’s style: while the King rarely fought with a shield, he was an acknowledged master of swordplay in many forms. In the end, Boromir and the King had resolved the matter between them: Boromir by loudly asking if he could join the sparring – at supper, in front of the whole hall full of Gondor’s notables – and the King by accepting the request in a suitably gracious manner (as if, said Denethor darkly, it was not all his doing from the start). Faramir had not asked to join his brother at practice. Denethor blamed Elessar for encouraging Boromir. Faramir knew who would be blamed if he himself were to spend time in company with the King.

The procession was through the gate now, and bringing up the rear were the two Faramir had come to see. He had expected somehow that the Elves would be fair-haired, blue-eyed, and slender, as was the illustration of the ancient lord Glorfindel in his favorite book of Elvish tales. Ethereal beings, half-outside the bounds of Middle Earth. The sons of Elrond were not like that at all. Their long hair, loose save for the braids at their ears, was pure black and their eyes were as grey as their foster brother’s. Although they did not have the bulky look of the guardsmen riding before them, they were tall and lordly in their bearing. Yet it was clear they were not descended wholly of Men. It was not their pale skin, nor yet their pointed ears that set them apart. It was as if, far from being outside the living world, they were utterly a part of it, more deeply attuned to their surroundings than the Men whose home this was.

The twin nearest to Faramir turned his head and looked straight at him, despite the interference of wind-tossed mulberry branches and a window deliberately designed to conceal. He smiled ever so slightly, no more than a warmth in his eyes and a curl at the corners of his mouth. A movement of the tree blocked Faramir’s view, and his next glimpse of the procession was of the other twin, who had moved alongside his brother. He, too, was looking up, but there was nothing slight about his flashing smile. As Faramir watched, the second brother raised his hand high above his head and waved it vigorously in greeting, before his horse carried him out of sight of the narrow window. Bemused, Faramir did not realize that he was smiling back.

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