Faramir Fiction Archive

Colors Drabbles Two (R)

Written by QueenCria

05 August 2006 | 632 words

Title: Bruised
Prompt: 016—Purple
Author’s Notes: Faramir is wounded, but not in battle.

Faramir gritted his teeth and tried not to moan as he slowly stripped off his tunic. His ribs screamed in agony as he slowly removed the garment.

Hissing through his teeth, he tossed it aside and surveyed the damage that ravaged down his side.

Swollen, sickening of livid purple stood in stark contrast to his skin. Each breath burned; one or more of his ribs were probably broken.

He looked like he’d been thrown against a wall.

He gently laid his hand on his side. His fingers aligned with the ridges of bruises.

An echo of his father’s heavy hand.

Title: Resemblance
Prompt: 017—Brown
Author’s Notes: Faramir and Aragorn debate resemblance.

“She looks like you.” Faramir said one morning as Aragorn danced around the nursery with their daughter in his arms.

“No.” Aragorn protested, nuzzling her round stomach to delighted baby giggles. “She was born lucky, so she’ll look like you.”

“You’re hopeless.” Faramir laughed. “Look at those curls. She’s going to look like you.”

“But those blue eyes didn’t come from my family.” Aragorn protested. “No they didn’t, little one.”

Faramir stood and kissed the top of her head. A thick down of fluffy dark hair covered her skull.

“Oh yes, little one. You’re going to look like your Ada.”

Title: Blooming
Prompt: 018—Green
Author’s Notes: The gardens are an oasis of life in the hard stone of Minas Tirith.

Faramir stood in the beautiful gardens of Gondor; reveling in the sun on his face and the growing things.

“Their song is quite beautiful.” Legolas had snuck up on him, as always.

“Yes.” Faramir murmured with a smile.

“It is good this place is here.” Legolas stood next to him and spread his arms. “So much cold stone, this life is a welcome change.”

“It’s not much.” Faramir looked at Legolas, at the ageless blue eyes. “But I’m glad you like it.”

“I like many things in Gondor.” Legolas murmured.

Their eyes met; something other than flowers began to bloom.

Title: Pebbled
Prompt: 019—Pink
Author’s Notes: Faramir puts his mouth to good use.

Faramir ran his hands down the long column of Aragorn’s back, his hands gliding smoothly over the sweat slicked skin. Aragorn kissed him hungrily, their tongues battling for dominance as he tangled his hands in his hair.

Faramir broke from the kiss and worked his way down, nipping and suckling his heated flesh. Aragorn tossed his head back and let out a guttural groan.

He grazed his teeth over Aragorn’s collarbone; his muscles contracted.

Faramir went farther down and took a nipple into his mouth. The flesh, oddly pink against his tanned skin, pebbled as Aragorn cried out in pleasure.

Title: Invisible
Prompt: 020—Colorless
Author’s Notes: Faramir lives in a city that is defined by color, and yet he is allowed none of the brilliance.

Faramir had existed amidst a backdrop of color and shining brilliance, however dimmed by time, since he was a child. Minas Tirith, the spectacular white city, was his home.

The shining silver trumpets were as much a part of his upbringing as his toys.

The fathomless black and white marble of his father’s hall.

His brother was even called the Golden Child, the favored son of the Steward. Color permeated every day of his life, every moment of his existence.

And yet, surrounded by the sweeping beauty of Gondor’s colors, Faramir was invisible.

The shadows from his brother eclipsed any subtle, but strong colors Faramir might have exuded. Any signs of life and gentle brilliance were violently quelled by his father’s harsh words and Boromir’s unconscious abilities.

Even shades of gray and brown were denied Denethor’s hated younger son.

Faramir was nothing, less than the dimmest hues.

He was colorless.

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