Faramir Fiction Archive

Darkness and Light (NC-17)

Written by Sairalinde and Anorienbean

11 August 2009 | 145537 words

Title: Darkness and Light
Authors: Sairalinde & Anorienparker
Rating: NC17
Pairing: Faramir/Haldir, Haldir/OMC
Warnings: Abuse, non-con/rape
Summary: After eight years of being held in slavery, Haldir finds solace in his new cellmate Faramir. That solace grows quickly into love that drives him to make the ultimate sacrifice for his lover to have Faramir set free and away from harm. But the sacrifice turns out to be much different than he expected and Haldir finds new love with someone he never imagined he would.
Disclaimer: No money was made from this story and all characters belong to the incredibly talented Mr. JRR Tolkien and his estate.

Authors note: An alternate ending in its entirety will be posted on a website at the conclusion of this story.

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Chapter 1

You will give yourself freely to me or to your new master whenever requested.

You will give yourself freely to anyone I or your new master deem worthy of bedding you.

You will never attempt to escape.

You will take your punishment proudly for any infraction; said punishment will be determined at the discretion of your new master.

Failure to follow the terms of this contract will lead to the immediate capture and subsequent torture of not only your brother Rúmil, but Orophin as well. You will be bound and held in the highest tower of Isengard, where you will watch them being beaten and raped, starved and humiliated until the last breath is drawn from their bodies.

This contract is bound by my will and by magic, fueled by the power of Sauron himself.

Haldir read words on the thin parchment again and again, but nothing changed the second, or even the third time. He looked up at Saruman, who was smiling smugly, and tried to bite back his disgust at the very thought of the old wizard touching him.

Saruman had patience, however. He never looked away, never said a word. He simply kept his hand on the palintar that showed a clear picture of Rúmil and Orophin as they lay in their bed, curled up together, asleep and completely unaware that their eldest brother was about to give up everything for them.

Blinking back his tears, Haldir’s hand shook as he signed the contract, wishing that he were already dead.

He would not be granted such a luxury. Not for a very, very long time.

“Come pet,” Saruman’s eyes glittered darkly even in the dimly lit room. “It is time you earned your keep.”

It took everything in Haldir to make himself stand, but he somehow managed to do so, gritting his teeth and following meekly behind the gray-haired old man. “I will do as I am bound,” he muttered, knowing full well that Saruman could hear him, “but do not expect me to like it, or condone it, or ever want it.”

His simple statement was met with a short, harsh laugh. “I could bind your tongue, but then, where would the fun in that be?” Saruman reached over and wound his fist in Haldir’s hair, then jerked the Elf into the next room – the council room where he held his most secretive meetings.

“Now, I think you might need a bit of warming up,” he smirked, murmuring a spell beneath his breath.

Haldir felt as if a dozen hands were suddenly gripping his arms and legs. He was propelled across the room and bent over the long table that sat in the middle of the floor. Ropes bound his ankles to the bottom of the table legs, and leather restraints wound around his wrists to bind his hands.

Cool, long fingers reached between his legs as the Elf gritted his teeth and tried to think of anything else but what was about to happen. His testicles were tugged at, rolled in the palm of the wizard’s hand and pulled down hard. Before he could protest, a cold metal ring was placed at the base of his scrotum and around his now flaccid sex, then fastened tightly, making a clicking sound as the tiny clasp fell into place. Words of magic were uttered softly as the ring became even tighter.

Another, then still another ring was placed until his testicles were hanging down well below their normal position. He gave a small gasp and struggled uselessly, causing Saruman to mutter another spell, tightening the rings a bit further.

His face flushing as he bit back a grunt of pain, Haldir bit into his bottom lip and pressed his forehead against the table.

“The first ring is one you will wear as long as you are in my service,” a soft, silky voice from behind him explained. “It is a submission ring, and cannot be removed, except by myself or your master, who already possesses the key that will control and unlock it. Whenever you disobey…” He paused and turned a dark ring on his index finger clockwise for a moment, “then you will be punished.”

At the turn of the ring, Haldir felt as if fire had been gathered in his groin and exploded through the length of his sex. He screamed in agony, and would have grabbed himself had his arms been free. The pain was gone a moment later, and the room was filled with Saruman’s laughter and Haldir’s harsh breathing. “That was only the first setting. There are five.”

Haldir could only whimper, tears filling his eyes, as he entire body shook against the cold hard table.

“And this” – another pause, and the Elf felt a searing pain just behind his scrotum – “is a jewel cut by your own jewelsmiths. After I use you, you will be given to one of my slavemasters. You are my gift to him. Every time someone takes you, they will see that you belong to him, and, ultimately, to me.”

Haldir bit back a sob as his skin was pierced by the thin gold ring with a single opal fastened to it. Saruman fastened the clasp, spelled it closed, and gave it a light tug, causing Haldir to bite back another cry of pain. “It too, cannot be removed, pet, so I would not suggest you even try. For your own hands to even touch it will activate the submission ring… and I don’t think you want that.”

The old wizard leaned over his victim and pressed his thigh between Haldir’s legs, applying pressure to the now painfully sensitive parts of his genitals. “Say it, Elf,” he whispered, running his fingernail over the sensitive tip of Haldir’s ear. “You signed the contract, but say you give yourself to me.”

He was met with silence.

“I can have Rúmil brought here and…”

“No.” Haldir turned his head to the side and felt an overwhelming hatred for the Istari beside him. “I will give myself to you.”

With that, the golden Elf felt something cold and hard enter him. It was, thankfully, slick and thin… at least at the beginning. He felt the object still, then expand, stretching him too quickly, causing him to wrap his fingers around the end of the table to keep from moaning. As quickly as it had entered, the thing was gone and to his horror, Haldir felt warm flesh being forced inside his entrance.

So this was it. He was to be taken by Saruman first, then the Valar only knew who else after that. And there was no end in sight. He had given his permission, so he would never fade. He was a strong and healthy Elf, so their punishments would likely heal quickly and never kill him.

Gone were the days of laughter and joy of the life he’d known with his brothers.

This was his new life… a life of pain and humiliation. A life as a whore to a slavemaster who was loyal to Saruman himself.

As the wizard began to thrust, Haldir whimpered softly and simply prayed that his dear brothers were safe and would never think of him again. His one request was that their memory be altered, one which, surprisingly, Saruman had agreed to. Haldir didn’t want them spending the rest of their lives searching for him, and neither did Saruman, though for entirely different reasons. It would be easier, Haldir thought, if they simply remembered him dying a warrior’s death in battle. They would mourn, then go on with their lives… as they should.

And Haldir… Haldir would forever remember their smiling faces and the beauty of the home he would never see again.

Eight years later…

Haldir opened his eyes, but didn’t move as his new cellmate was thrown unceremoniously through the doorway, landing hard on his shoulder. It was a Man, another of Dorvane’s countless prisoners, to be used and discarded when he tired of him. The man was unconscious… and lovely.

He took a deep breath and studied the slack face before him. It was difficult to move after the beating he’d sustained the evening before, when Dorvane was displeased with him for some minor imagined infraction. Haldir had been serving his ‘master’ for almost 8 years by then, and he knew that once Dorvane had his mind set on seeing Haldir bleed, there was no getting out of it. Often, the golden Elf would simply move things along a bit by snapping at his dark-haired captor and waiting for the flogging to begin. Seeing him bleed always made Dorvane aroused and rougher than normal, but Haldir had learned that crying out only excited him more… and made Dorvane that much more frenzied, sometimes loosing all control. His actions would have killed a man, and even some Elves, but Haldir was determined to live – though sometimes he wasn’t sure why he wanted to.

Handsome. One of the more gentile ones, I would wager from the look of him, but a warrior as well.

Faramir did not see the room he was so roughly thrown in, nor did he see the other inhabitant because he was unconscious from the ‘initiation’ and thankfully so. If he had seen it though it would have surprised and confused him. The room was well furnished and seemed to be made up of more than just one room or cell as he would have expected. A large bed with nice, even expensive linens, a couch, a chair and a small kitchen area with a small table were even a part of the room. It seemed as if he were a ‘guest’ rather than a prisoner though the door was bolted and the windows sealed and unbreakable. One could still see outside though, see the freedom just beyond. Held by magic not just force.

The man moved just a little on the cold floor, consciousness starting to creep back in, though the pain was still there. The ache between his legs was unlike any pain he’d ever felt before and he wondered how it was possible he was here now. Faramir groaned and tried to move his legs but the pain of it stopped him. The floor was cold but that was fine… he would just rest there a while longer.

The addition of another prisoner usually bought Haldir a few days of peace, but he couldn’t bear to take comfort in the pain of another, so he was almost as anxious while they ‘played’ with their new toys as if he were the object of their attention himself. He always did his best to tend to his fellow prisoners, and he had become friends with a few, but they never lasted long; either killed providing their ‘service’ or moved to another of Saruman’s captains’ farms to pleasure the inhabitants there. As the unconscious form was thrown into the room and tried only feebly to move, Haldir knelt by his side and gently brushed the hair back from his temples. A quick look toward the man’s legs, and his worst fears were confirmed – there was so much blood, the poor man had obviously been through his initiation ceremony and had been claimed by both Saruman and Dorvane and probably many of his friends, not to mention been fastened with the submission ring and a piercing. He couldn’t see the man’s face, but already he saw that this one was fairer than all the others. “I do not know if you can hear me or not,” he said softly, “but I am going to take you to a nice warm bed and give you something for the pain.”

Faramir was too weak to struggle when someone touched him, afraid they might hurt him more, but the soft voice soothed him a little. The promise of a warm bed and something for the pain was unexpected but not unwelcome by any means. He gasped as he tried to look up, his muscles sore from the rigid position he’d been held in for so long before. Strapped mercilessly to that hard table, his body ached everywhere, inside and out. “Hurts,” he murmured as he was rolled from his side. He cried out a little as he was picked up and his arms weakly wrapped around someone’s neck. He had no idea if this was just a trick, if this person was going to hurt him more but for now, he would take solace that for the moment he was not having more pain inflicted on him. “Where… where am I?”

Holding the young man as gently as possible, Haldir felt an intense burning anger at both Dorvane and Saruman for inflicting pain on someone so young and fair. He couldn’t see the man’s eyes, but his face, beneath the bruises and blood, was heartbreaking beautiful even while filled with so much pain. Carrying his precious charge across the room, he laughed bitterly and answered. “You are in your new, beautiful home… at least the place you will call home for the next year or so, until Dorvane and his friends tire of you or until… you die… you are no longer able to perform your so-called duties.” He lay the man carefully down on the soft sheets, which were immediately stained with blood. No matter. He was provided with clean sheets every day, clean clothes, the best food and herbs… he was, in fact, provided with everything but his freedom and a life free of pain and humiliation.

Faramir frowned when he heard the laughter, the bitter tone of the other man’s voice. He opened his eyes just a little, they were still clouded with tears of pain but he needed to see. It was true. The room was beautiful, the bed was large and soft and as he was laid against the sheets he moaned in pain but kept his gaze on the other. He was beautiful… dark bruises in the shape of fingers were along the side of his neck though and his eyes looked… sad. “You… are not a guard are you?” he asked softly.

Haldir gasped as blue eyes opened and met his gaze. He was unable to speak for a moment; he was so mesmerized with all that lay behind the pain and shock of the last few hours. Gods, the man was beautiful, and the Elf, for the first time in years, was immediately drawn in. “No, I am not a guard,” he whispered, wiping a drop of blood from the corner of the man’s mouth with his thumb. “I am a prisoner here, like you… or, more to the point, I am Dorvane’s and Saruman’s – unwilling – pleasure slave.”

Faramir was startled by the look on the other’s face and realized that this wasn’t a man he was looking at, but an Elf! They had captured an Elf and were doing the same things to him as they had done to Faramir? “Gods… pleasure slaves… but… I do not understand any of this. I was… I was asleep and then I heard one of my rangers call out, saying they saw something in the woods. The next thing I knew a dark hood was over my head and I do not know what happened to the rest of my party. Why… why are they doing this? I have never heard of such… treatment of prisoners before.” Faramir was still confused and felt weakened from everything that had occurred in the last day and a half. Where was this place? He’d expected to be tortured for information on troops and battle plans but they never even asked a single question other than those to force him to sign his ‘contract’ as they’d called it.

Standing and making his way to the small kitchen that was in sight of the bed, Haldir wondered where to begin. He started crushing together the herbs one of the guards regularly traded for ‘favors’ and divided them into two parts – one for a tea and one for a salve. He’d had to use both so many times he’d lost count years ago. “Saruman is shrewd and cruel,” he explained. “He has spies on the battlefield in every realm – even some among the Elves, as far as I can tell, so he has no need for information. His men are loyal to him, but they have been bred to be cold and malicious, and often end up killing one another between battles. And so Saruman decided to give them shelter at his farms – spell-protecting homes for dozens of soldiers, where they can enjoy the best food, the most comfortable beds… and slaves to unleash their anger upon. It keeps them happy, and that, in turn makes them even more loyal to Saruman, so he never has to worry about an uprising or internal fighting. That is why we are here… to appease these soldiers, to keep them from rebelling or turning on one another.”

Faramir’s eyes had followed the Elf as he crossed the room to the small kitchen area and frowned. They were merely toys to Saruman and his new master Dorvane. “So he randomly captures men and… apparently Elves to do this… I thought I had heard most everything about this war but I had no idea about this,” he said softly, his throat still raw from screaming. Faramir tried to push himself up in the bed, but instead let out a soft whimper. His wrists were raw from the shackles that had held him and he was simply too tired and weak to move on his own. “What good are we to them if they hurt us too much to do anything?” he grumbled as he gave up and simply lay back against the bed.

Another bitter smile touched Haldir’s lips and anger flashed behind his eyes. “Remember, Saruman is a powerful Istar.” He put a pan of water over the fire to warm and carried the salve back to the bed, where he sat beside his new companion. “He loves to see us suffer as Dorvane and his men play, and then he brings us back here, to our lovely little home for a few days to heal. When he is ready for us again, he sends the guards for us. There is a spell around our rooms – one that heals us, but only when we leave, so that we are not too broken to provide them with a bit of fun. Sometimes he watches, but he is often not here, and leaves all the ‘fun’ to his guards and the slavemaster, Dorvane.” As he spoke, he gently took one of Faramir’s wrists and applied the salve. It was a healing potion, but Saruman would not allow him herbs that were strong enough to completely heal or deaden the pain. It was enough only to take the very edge off, but he learned to be grateful for even this small concession when the pain was truly overwhelming.

Frowning, Faramir shook his head, unable to believe such cruelty. At one time Saruman had been their ally. “How long have you been here?” he asked softly and then hissed as the Elf applied the salve to his wrist. “And my name is Faramir by the way. Thank you for helping me but I fear your work will end up being wasted when they come again will it not?” He sighed and looked up at the ceiling for a moment, wondering if even now they were being watched.

Haldir smiled for the first time as he looked closely at Faramir once again, despite the less than cheerful subject matter. He lifted Faramir’s hand and blew warm air onto his wrist, knowing it would ease the sting, if only a little, then reached for his other wrist. “I have been here about eight years by my estimation,” he said softly, “and my name is Haldir.” He repeated his ministration on Faramir’s other wrist and then stood to drop a washcloth into the warming water. When he sat back down, he began wiping the blood from Faramir’s face, knowing that he would be in too much pain to even do such a simple task. “You will have a few days of peace if you are lucky. They will most likely come for me tomorrow, and keep me for most of the day. Mid week they go into the village for supplies, so we have an extra day there. They may come for you the next day though, but I can most likely provoke them a bit and make them take me that day as well.”

Faramir was slightly puzzled by the way Haldir smiled at him, as if for just a moment he had simply forgotten where they were and they were just two people discussing the events of the day. It actually calmed his nerves more than the Elf could have ever realized. “Eight years? Gods, after today I’m not sure I could last eight days,” he murmured and was touched when Haldir blew on his wrist, much like his brother used to do when he was a child and had gotten hurt. He shook his head violently though when Haldir spoke of provoking them. “Do not do that… you have enough to deal with yourself you should not protect me. The notion is appreciated of course… but I cannot let you do that. I’ll survive somehow… I doubt they brought me here to kill me in a week right?” Faramir hoped so at least.

Shaking his head, Haldir wished he could do more than spare Faramir for a day. “I am used to their attentions and Elves heal more quickly than men… though, no, they will not kill you in a week. Only make you wish you were dead. They provide us with plenty of food and even books, so our minds and bodies stay active on the rare days when we are healthy enough to enjoy such amenities.” He stopped, then looked down, until then having avoided calling attention to anything below Faramir’s waist. The bleeding had slowed, and he knew it was yet another of Saruman’s spells that covered the house – he wouldn’t stand for anyone bleeding to death when he wasn’t around to watch. “You were initiated today, and, unfortunately, this is one of the less painful procedures you will endure. However, if you will permit me, I will put some salve around the ring as well, and… the other areas that were damaged…”

Faramir’s eyes grew wide as Haldir said that what he’d went through today was one of the LESS painful procedures. By the Valar, he wasn’t sure he would survive after all. He hoped to at least heal enough to attempt escape but if this was the condition he was to be in so often how would he do it? He startled just a little as Haldir spoke of the ring and almost shook his head, fearing that it would hurt worse to treat it or that Saruman or Dorvane would use the ring against him just because of it. “I… I am afraid that… that he’ll use that thing,” Faramir admitted, hating the thought of admitting his fear to a perfect stranger but if anyone would understand this Elf would.

Knowing all too well the agony of the damnable ring around his genitals, Haldir nodded sympathetically. He was having trouble looking away from those blue eyes that had so entranced him, but knew Faramir was in pain and he needed to concentrate on that before anything else. “He will allow us to help and heal each other,” he explained. “For the most part, he only uses the ring during a session or when we are disobedient. But part of the reason he always puts two prisoners together is so they can tend to one another. He always insists his slaves are clean and at times, when a slave is alone, he simply doesn’t have the strength to take care of or bathe himself. If you had rather apply the salve yourself, however, I understand. I am sure the last thing you want is someone else touching you where your injuries are the gravest and most painful.”

It sounded strange in his mind but Faramir was grateful that at least he was with someone who understood what it felt like. Haldir was being exceedingly kind but there was no way the Elf would want to tend his wounds there, so Faramir nodded. “It is not right… you should not have to tend anyone least of all that,” Faramir murmured as he tried desperately to push himself up to even attempt to treat his own wounds but he couldn’t. He was too sore, in too much pain and his body would not cooperate. Shaking with effort he lay back against the bed and felt tears sting his eyes at his own feeling of ineptitude.

Haldir frowned, knowing that Faramir’s modesty was at war with his body’s limits and exhaustion from what was no doubt hours and hours of pain. He reached up and brushed his hand lightly over the hair at the young man’s temples, soothing him as best as he could for the moment. “Faramir, I understand, honestly I do. But, until you are taken to another of the farms, you and I will have no one but each other. I would like to earn your trust now, while you can still think, rather than have them hurt you worse,” – he stopped and shivered at the images of both the things he’d seen and had done to him – “and come back here angry and afraid of me.” His voice was low, almost pleading, but he was careful not to make it sound coaxing, as Saruman often did in certain best-forgotten situations. “Please… let me help you. I do not like watching you suffer.”

It saddened him immeasurably when Haldir spoke of only having one another. Both he and Haldir had their lives ripped from them, their families and their dignity was something that would never really belong to them as long as they were here at Saruman’s disposal. The Elf was right, Faramir needed him and being stubborn right now was doing no one any good. Besides he was bleeding all over the Elf’s bed. He sighed and cleared his throat before he could speak. “I cannot do it myself… so please help if… if you are sure you do not mind. It is less than… pleasant after all, but… but know this, I will never be angry with you. You are not who put me here, Haldir,” he said softly.

Relieved, Haldir tucked Faramir’s hair behind his ear and nodded. “Your time here will not be pleasant,” he said softly as he moved down the bed and gently rubbed pale, bruised thighs that were lying just slightly apart, but not trying to move them just yet. “But you are strong. I can see it in your eyes. Just remember they can make you think you are angry with me, make you want to hurt me, and most of all; take pleasure in making you hurt me. They will do the same for me, but always know that no matter what happens, I understand and will always take care of you afterward.” As he spoke, he crossed the room to dip the washcloth in warmer water again, rinsed the blood out, and moved to the end of the bed. “I know it will hurt, but I need to see what they did to you.”

Over the years, he’d given this speech to many of his ‘companions.’ Some left – or died – as his friends, some hating him, some wishing him dead. Already he was hoping beyond reason that Faramir would leave whole and intact, as one of the few friends he could at least remember sharing a few smiles with now and then.

Faramir wasn’t quite sure he understood what Haldir was saying about making him do things but he knew that Saruman was a powerful wizard and it was likely true that he could make him do most anything. When Haldir returned to the bed with the washcloth, Faramir cringed a little. I don’t want to see what they did to me. He carefully spread his legs apart, just that action causing pain to ricochet throughout his body and he whimpered but bit his lip against crying out yet. Even the cooling air of the room seemed to be too much pressure against his body and he wanted more than anything to just curl up into a ball and be left alone. He curled his fingers into the sheets, only now noticing the pain of even that, nails ragged and torn as he’d scrabbled against the table earlier. “I am ready… … at least… I think so,” he offered softly. He watched as time seemed to still and Haldir began to lean over him and closed his eyes, not wanting to see revulsion or even compassion on the Elf’s face. He just wanted to hide from the world and the only way he could do that now was behind his eyelids.

Haldir cursed under his breath when he saw the damage. The ring they’d used was much heavier than the one they normally used on Men. Faramir must have put up quite the fight. Even the submission ring that was wrapped snugly around the swollen genitals looked tighter than normal. Elsewhere… Gods, how he hated Saruman and all the guards and most particularly Dorvane! Judging from the amount of blood and semen, they had used Faramir so cruelly it was a wonder that he was still conscious. He was fairly certain that the torn and irritated skin couldn’t even stand the touch of the cloth in his hand just yet, so Haldir stood, brought the now warm pot of water to the nightstand and dipped the washcloth in again. Rather than wring it out, however, he simply let the water drip over Faramir’s piercing, over his abused genitals and over the raw skin of his entrance, gritting his teeth as he did so, knowing that even this would be exquisitely painful. “Forgive me, Faramir,” he murmured. “The worst will be over soon.”

The first sharp sting of the herb laced water made Faramir gasp and give a yelp of pain. Gods it already hurt but now it felt as if he were on fire. He squirmed on the bed and whimpered, as the pain seemed to increase as more water hit his abused flesh that was throbbing with pain. Tears leaked out from under his eyelids as he tried desperately not to dissolve into a childish mass of them but it was to no avail. Once the tears had begun they didn’t seem to want to stop. He was trembling as Haldir continued to pour the water over him, the bedding beneath him becoming more soaked in the process as he lay in his own blood and now water as well. It was humiliating as much as it was painful but he could only take solace in the fact that Haldir too had endured much of the same treatment and so had others apparently. This would not kill him but Gods… there were moments when it felt as if it was going to.

Torn between wanting to just wrap his arms around Faramir and hurry and get the cleansing and treatment over with, Haldir caught his bottom lip between his teeth and tried to swallow his emotions, thankful that the last of the blood was finally gone. When he looked up and saw the hopeless tears streaming down Faramir’s face, however, he put the cloth aside, and gently slid his arms beneath Faramir’s shoulders and knees. He turned on the bed, settling the sobbing young man in his lap, thankful that at least this time, they hadn’t beaten him, so he could at least stand to be held. “Wrap your arms around my neck,” he whispered, rocking Faramir in his arms as he reached for the ointment, dipped his fingers in and gently but firmly kept long legs apart. “Hold on to me, and this will be over before you know it, I promise.”

Faramir didn’t startle when Haldir wrapped his arms around him, but he felt worthless and ashamed that he was crying like he was, though he couldn’t seem to stop. Surprised that Haldir wanted to hold someone so filthy he obeyed easily, his arms wrapped weakly around the Elf’s neck and he rested his tear stained face against his chest. “I am acting like a child,” he hiccupped the words through his tears and winced because it made his body ache even worse. At first he’d tried to close his legs but Haldir hadn’t allowed it and he was too weak to struggle. He rested against him, clinging to the Elf as he tended him with a thick salve. Faramir cringed away from him several times but being in his lap this way he couldn’t pull away completely and had to simply endure the treatment. He knew the herbs would take some of the sting away at least but not nearly enough of it.

“No, you are not,” Haldir said softly. “I was one of the most fierce of warriors – a Marchwarden in Lothlórien before I was taken. They used me for 2 days, pierced me, raped me, taught me all about the submission ring. And then they threw me in this room. There was an Elf here, a beautiful Woodland Elf name Eranon, who tended my injuries and held me while I cried, much as you are allowing me to do right now.” His fingers dipped back into the jar and he hesitated. “Breathe deeply Faramir. The worst part is this – the piercing and the skin that was torn when they forced their way inside.” Slowly, his hand shaking despite the fact that he had done this many times before to other prisoners, Haldir’s salve-slicked fingers ran lightly over Faramir’s entrance as he continued to encourage him to relax as much as possible, to hold on to him tightly and above all, to just concentrate on his breathing.

Haldir’s words did help a little, knowing that he wasn’t making a fool of himself though he hated the thought of this kind Elf having gone through the same as he was now. It was monstrous but nothing could be done now. He trembled when he spoke of what had been done to him and he yelped, and then cried out, a pitiful thin sound because his throat was so raw. His vision dimmed at one point when Haldir’s fingers brushed close to the piercing and he felt his stomach turn violently tasting bile. “Please… I cannot take much more…” he whispered weakly, his body wracked with pain each time the wounds throbbed in time with his overly rapid heartbeat.

“Almost done,” Haldir promised, still rocking Faramir in his embrace. As gently as he could, he applied the salve liberally to the swollen skin around the golden ring that pierced Faramir just below his testicles. “They are not careful, and the rings are not always cleaned first. The healing spell Saruman has over this dwelling will help even an infection the next time you leave, but until then…” He shuddered as he remembered one Man in particular who would not treat his own piercing and would not allow Haldir to touch him. He died before the guards’ return only a few days later, wracked with pain and fever, the infection having spread through his entire body. “I need to lift the ring up just a bit so the salve will soak in, then we will almost be finished. I promise, you can rest then.”

Faramir bit his lip and nodded, knowing it had to be done but also knowing it was going to be horrifically painful. He took several deep breaths and then looked up at Haldir as he steeled himself for the pain. “All right, I… I am as ready as I will ever be,” he whispered. When Haldir touched the piercing, Faramir screamed, he had thought that he could keep himself from it but the cry was out before he could even stop it. Gods, it hurt! The pain lanced throughout his sex it seemed and almost seemed amplified by the snug fitting ring around his flesh. Before he could breathe the darkness came rushing in, he couldn’t have fought against it if he’d tried and he fainted in Haldir’s arms, his body going completely limp and for the moment, pain couldn’t touch Faramir at least.

With one arm, Haldir held Faramir tighter as he screamed, almost thankful when he fainted so he wouldn’t have to endure the pain any longer… at least for now. He’d tended to other prisoners, and he’d always felt compassion and heartbreak toward them, but with Faramir, those feelings were intensified tenfold. Despite his unconsciousness, Haldir continued to rock and whisper to him, finally dipping his fingers into the salve one last time and gently pushing it inside his abused opening. When he was finished, he wrapped Faramir up in an extra blanket and laid him carefully in front of the fire, then stripped and remade the bed with fresh sheets. Saruman had anticipated the blood and had put a shield on the mattress so none of the blood would soak in. While he liked to be the reason for his prisoner’s pain and loss of blood, it sickened him to see the blood there before he got to them. Moments later, Haldir had remade the bed and was sliding Faramir beneath the covers. “You will feel a bit better when you open your eyes,” he promised. “At least, I hope so. They are far too beautiful to be filled with such pain.”

The unconsciousness was a blessing for Faramir. He didn’t feel what else Haldir had to do and would be eternally grateful for that. He’d been warned that he would not be allowed to pass out during their ‘activities’ when he was with Saruman and then his new master Dorvane. He’d almost fainted a number of times but something, some magic held him from it even when the pain was unbearable. But here at least he was no longer their entertainment and so he was allowed this one escape. For in his mind it was an escape. He was away from this place and back in his home, amongst his friends and family and no hint of darkness surrounded their lives. The war was over in his dreams… they were at peace. He took solace in that until finally he woke up again. His body aching but not so badly as before, he felt uncomfortable and he could feel he thick salve on his skin but at least it was not burning any longer. “How…” he cleared his throat and tried again, “How long have I been asleep?”

Haldir finished ladling out the soup he’d made earlier and set the bowl on a tray. “Only a few hours,” he said softly as he brought the tray over and sat it on the nightstand. “The tea is still warm, and we have soup and bread for dinner I had heating over the fire while you were resting.” He held up his hand before Faramir could move and shook his head. “You may do what you like, of course, but I would recommend that you stay as still as you can and let me help you sit up just enough to eat. You should move as little as possible until you have at least healed a bit.”

Faramir had started to try to sit up but Haldir stopped him with his words and the look on his face that seemed to speak of experience with such things. “All right… I am unaccustomed to people taking care of me like this,” he admitted. It had been years since anyone had to help him sit up or cook a meal for him. Of course within the citadel there were servants but Faramir did not spend much time there in the last years because he preferred the woods and caves. “You said you are a Marchwarden… I myself am a ranger… so it is strange being… taken care of for me, though as horrible as I feel I am very grateful,” he said softly.

“I know,” Haldir agreed as he slipped his arms beneath Faramir and with almost no effort at all slid him up in bed. Faramir didn’t have to move at all, and he’d been positioned a bit to one side, so no pressure would be placed on his injuries or that damnable piercing. “I felt the same way for a long time with Eranon. He had been here for over fifteen years when I arrived, and I quickly learned that as long as we shared this… prison, we would have to come to terms with the fact that we all have our limits. It is difficult to keep yourself cleaned and whole when you are alone here, and if Dorvane or Saruman were to find you in any other state… let’s just say what you experienced today would be welcomed over what your punishment would be under those circumstances.”

Faramir only winced a little when Haldir set him upright and he frowned. “Fifteen years? Then… that means that this place has existed longer than… Gods, Saruman has been playing everyone in Middle Earth for fools for years,” Faramir said angrily. He could remember a time when the wizard had acted as their ally and now… now to know he’d been doing this perhaps all along… he felt even more violated. “I never thought I would know what it was to hate someone so much, you know? I always thought that even the worst sort of criminal could have some redeeming quality… until now,” Faramir said softly as Haldir arranged everything next to the bed and sat down.

“Aye,” Haldir sighed as his settled down on the bed and sipped his own soup. “He is cold and cruel, finding the one thing that means most to us all, and using it against us. I remember when he used to be Saruman the White. He was good then, a trusted friend to everyone, including the firstborn, but now… now I wish him dead every time I see him. I wonder how the Valar can let his happen, but at the same time, I tell myself that ultimately, they have a plan in mind to pay him back… though even they could never erase all the harm he has done to so many over the last years.”

Faramir picked up his soup and nodded before he took a sip of it. It was true, Saruman used his brother against him when he was ‘initiated’ promising this same fate on him if he did not cooperate as he wanted him to. At first he had thought his brother to be far too strong and smart for the wizard to capture him but then thought that maybe just maybe Boromir would search for him. And somehow he’d be rescued? It was not likely but at least it could give him a small amount of hope and in the meantime he would continue to try to work out how to escape. “Has… has anyone ever managed to get away?”

“Two, in the time I have been here.” Haldir stirred his soup thoughtfully for a moment, knowing that Saruman didn’t require most of the humans to sign a contract, so escape might just be possible for Faramir. “It was not easy, and both times, Elves were involved, calling on their natural link with nature to send for help. Each time, however, Saruman strengthened his spells and when most walk by this house, they see nothing but forest. Of the two that escaped, one was a Man, who was killed by orcs about a league from here, and the other was an Elf who… was captured and died a few weeks later. “ He refrained from saying that the Elf faded. Eranon had thought he could save his lover back in Mirkwood, had thought he could get to him before Saruman, had thought their love was stronger than the old wizard’s magic. He was wrong. Eranon reached Mirkwood just as his lover lay dying, having been tortured to death in their own talan in the days since Eranon’s escape, the magic of the contract called into action the moment he had left Dorvane’s farm. With Mirran’s death, there was nothing to hold Eranon to this world, not even his desire to help Haldir, and he was gone before the next new moon. There was no need to tell Faramir that, however, Haldir thought, though his eyes misted over at the memory, and he quickly changed the subject. “Are you feeling any better?”

Faramir mulled the words over in his mind. Not good odds at all. He looked up just as Haldir’s eyes seemed to cloud with the memories and felt sad for him. The Elf had obviously been his friend. “A little better I suppose,” he said wanting to ask more questions but he could tell Haldir didn’t wish to speak of it any longer. It was a slim hope anyway. “The soup is good,” he said trying to think of something that would take Haldir’s mind back from where it had gone with the memories. “I still keep hoping this is all a nightmare I’ll wake up from soon though.”

“I have wished that every day and night for eight years now, and I have never woken up,” the Elf sighed. He finished his soup quickly, then stood up and stretched. “As I said, we are provided with a few books. When you finish, we could relax and read for a while if you feel up to it. I… unfortunately, they will come for me in the morning, so I need to rest and gather my strength while I can.”

“My you have a way of giving one hope,” Faramir teased just a little and smiled slightly despite the situation. After Haldir stood and spoke again of them coming for him in the morning, Faramir frowned deeply. “I hope you know that I will take care of you as best I can when you have need of it, just as you have done for me,” Faramir said seriously. “Here, there is room on the bed, come join me.” His body still hurt greatly but so long as he didn’t move too much he was fine. It was only when he moved or involuntarily twitched from muscle aches that he was reminded just how much pain was just under the surface.

Haldir put their dishes away, then selected two books and removed his boots. “Saruman only allows us one bed so we do not balk so much at being… intimate when he or Dorvane demands it.” He carefully eased Faramir back beneath the covers and told himself that just because Faramir was the most beautiful man he’d ever shared this prison with didn’t mean he was going to be amenable to allowing Haldir to crawl naked into bed beside him. “He…” His face paled as he continued and he fumbled with the lacings of his tunic. “He likes for a … friendship to form, so he can use that against us when he is angry – which is also part of the reason we are forced to take care of one another. You should know that by taking care of me when I return, he will have planted the first seeds of intimacy, so, despite what I said earlier, you are not bound to care for me in any way when they finish with me.”

Faramir shook his head as he watched Haldir. “That is not true, I am bound by my honor, Haldir. No matter what they do to us here, we are still the same people we have always been. I have to believe that, perhaps after eight years I will not feel the same but for now… I am the same person who longs for peace and longs for happiness. Perhaps it will not be gained here in this place… but hope and who we are deep down is all we can hold onto,” Faramir said softly. “He can take everything from us, perhaps even our sanity, but I have to believe there is always hope.”

Smiling and falling a bit deeper under Faramir’s spell, Haldir nodded again. “No, they will not break you,” he said almost to himself. “Thank the gods, they will not break you.” He gestured toward his tunic and shrugged one shoulder. “Do you mind if I take this off? I know a naked body is the last thing you want to see right now, but I hate sleeping in clothes… I get tangled up when I have… nightmares… a restless night’s sleep. I will leave the breeches on of course.”

Faramir nodded as Haldir asked about removing his tunic. “I do not mind… I did not actually see the naked bodies before anyway and even if I had… I am sure I would never equate yours with them. You are very… very beautiful in fact; I hope you do not mind my saying that. If… well… if we are going to be forced to be intimate with one another for their pleasure at least… I am a very lucky man that I will likely not have to fake being attracted to you,” he said softly. His face was flaming with the admission but Gods it wasn’t as if he could stand on ceremony or manners now in a place like this.

Haldir hid his relief behind his tunic as he pulled it over his head, feeling his long golden hair fall down in disarray around him. “Faramir, I can honestly say that you are, without a doubt, the most beautiful man I have ever seen, and I will not have to fake attraction either. In another time and place, I would have taken one look at you and asked to court you – I would have brought you roses and chocolates and escorted you to breakfast every morning and to dinner every night.” He reached over and let his fingertips gently run over Faramir’s face. “As it is, however, I can promise you that should you ever need comfort or pleasure that has nothing to do with… with what they do to us, I would be more than happy to give you both here in our bed when we are able.”

Faramir felt himself blushing even deeper when Haldir spoke and he smiled as Haldir crawled into the bed next to him. “And my answer would have been yes,” Faramir said softly. It was depressing to think of what might have been though, so Faramir forced the thoughts away and painfully slid down in the bed, careful to keep just to his side to keep from laying back and allowing the piercing to touch the sheets. Though the sheets were soft, he knew it was far too tender. “Goodnight Haldir… I would wish you sweet dreams but I doubt that it will help in this place,” he whispered honestly.

“Good night, Faramir.” Laying back and closing his eyes, Haldir, for the first time since his capture, didn’t start daydreaming at once about his brothers. Instead, for the next half hour, he thought of the fire in Faramir’s eyes and steel in his voice as he spoke of honor, of the ring now embedded in his body that proved he was a fighter, even under the direst of circumstances. He was dozing off when he suddenly realized that he’d forgotten to wish Rúmil and Orophin a good night as well, as he did every night. The ache in his heart for his brothers was still there, but maybe slightly less painful than normal as he listened to Faramir’s soft breaths as he drifted deeper into sleep.

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