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Family Games (NC-17)
Written by December19 December 2010 | 65301 words
Chapter 12. A Lonely Night
When Captain Faramir returned to the city of Minas Tirith late in the afternoon of a chilly December day, spending a whole night up in the Mountains to see the arrival of Anor was the last thing he would have wished upon himself. For the present what he dreamt about the most was the far more prosaic comfort of a simple supper and a warm bed afterwards. Even the inhospitable weather put aside, it had been a difficult and toilsome term – he had had to send some seven wounded warriors to the infirmary in the City – and Faramir felt quite exhausted both of body and mind, and could easily imagine passing the first couple of days of his long-awaited vacation shamelessly doing nothing at all.
A cheerless inky-blue winter darkness had already descended on Minas Tirith when Denethor dismissed him at last, and Faramir retired to his chamber for a quick meal in private – and then straight to bed.
But just as the young captain settled before the plain table of dark wood, there came a gentle tap-tap on the door.
“Orophin?” Faramir raised his brows in surprise. Then he smiled warmly, for immediately his spirits lifted, and the man realised he had far more strength left in him than he had judged. All the unpleasant thoughts pertaining to his recent tour left him at once, and those cold wearisome months seemed to have been long, long ago. “So good to see you. Do come in. I was just sitting down to eat – the servants have brought enough for two, I’ll gladly share,” Faramir said stepping aside and made an inviting gesture.
He raised his brows again when he saw the Elf had not come empty-handed. In reply to the Man’s questioning glance, Orophin smiled his usual half-timid, half-playful smile, and lifted the bottle in acknowledgement of his intentions.
“In fact,” he took a deep breath and looked Faramir square in the face, “I was wondering if I could perhaps stay here tonight…?”
Faramir blinked at him, then frowned in puzzlement. “Here…? You mean, in my room?”
The Elf’s cheeks turned scarlet at once, and as always Faramir marveled at this trait of his, the blush jumping forth in a matter of a second, as though controlled by some kind of lever.
Yet, despite his apparent embarrassment, Orophin nodded. “Yes… that is what I mean. I understand ‘tis a little straightforward, but… Well, you see, I figured there’d be a spare place, and so there is,” he gestured at the sofa, “and maybe you wouldn’t mind…”
“Oh, I don’t,” Faramir hastened to assure him, “I was merely taken by surprise by your request, that is all. Of course, you are more than welcome to stay.”
Orophin lowered his eyes and nodded, and out of relief blushed even harder.
“Thank you.”
Faramir smiled dismissively. “But of course. It is no big deal, truly. Besides, you were never far from my thoughts while I was away, and when’s a better time to appreciate a friend’s company than after a parting?” he said rearranging the plates on the table and pulling up another chair. But then the Man stopped and looked at the other keenly. “Orophin…?” he asked very gently. “Is something wrong?”
“No, no,” the Elf shook his head hurriedly, looking startled by Faramir’s question. “Why would you ask that?” he accompanied this question with an unnatural laugh, and Faramir looked at him with reproach.
“Because,” the Man said with emphasis, pouring out the wine, “you had never asked to stay with me before, and I deem it a little strange that all of a sudden you should – without any reason behind it. And seeing as you have started the evening on a straightforward note,” he paused, then asked bluntly, “is something making you unhappy?”
“Unhappy?” Orophin repeated in wonder. “By the heavens, no!” He took a full draught from the goblet Faramir had just filled, paying no mind they had not even sat down yet. “I am being treated very well here, I have nothing to complain about. Truly, Faramir, if you wish to know, it is much simpler than that.” The Elf sighed with heavy sadness. “I am just a little lonely, that’s all.”
“Oh,” Faramir nodded, “that makes sense, of course. I have noticed you were keeping a distance from the local people, and unless that has changed during my recent absence…”
“No, no, that is not it. I do not mind the distance. Well, I…” Orophin lowered his eyes and began to fiddle with the edge of his sash. “You know, never mind. You are always so kind to me, and I always take advantage of that and start whining, while you already have so much on your mind,” he looked up and forced a reassuring smile.
Taking his seat, Faramir laughed softly and shook his head. “You know, you truly are impossible.” After they had taken their moment of customary silence and set to the food, the Man went on, “If there’s anything burdening you, better get it out first, so that we could dedicate the rest of the evening to the more pleasant matters. I’ll be far more troubled if I see something is off with you, but you do not share with me. And loneliness is not a state one can just will away, Orophin, I know that only all too well – nor is it aught to be ashamed of,” Faramir glanced out the window into the night outside. “I know that being by oneself out in the wilderness is far easier than being by oneself in a city full of people, and on some of us the City weighs just a little too much.”
“Nay,” Orophin shook his head softly, “‘tis nothing dramatic like that. ‘Tis a different kind of solitude that gets to me: I feel alone at night. You see, I cannot get used to being by myself in my sleep. Back where I come from, I have… I had two older brothers, and we all dwelled together. When we slept, they would lie close enough for me to hear the sound of their breathing… I know it is going to come across as childish, but you would not fancy how much I miss it, that simple comfort of a kin’s presence in the same room.”
“Do not worry, I can fancy it,” Faramir said very quietly, looking ahead of himself.
Orophin pressed his lips together. “I know ‘tis seen as privilege to be given a whole chamber all to oneself – like you, for example, don’t have to share yours, being a nobleman. So I understand it would be ungrateful if I asked your father to take back his favour, and lodge me with somebody else instead. Besides, I wouldn’t want just any Man there, either… You know, some of your folk are rather loud in their sleep…”
“Yes, I know,” Faramir laughed. “Well, like I said, you are more than welcome to stay here tonight – and, actually, whenever I come on furlough. Unless, of course, you should find me too loud for your liking.”
And so they ate, and drank the wine, and the conversation they had did not touch on any sombre topics, for Orophin had noticeably relaxed after Faramir’s invitation, and became quite talkative in a genial upbeat manner. It seemed he had not spoken to anyone since the young captain’s previous visit, so swift and animated he was in his speech. And watching him Faramir thought how very much he would indeed like to have this company every evening: even though the man was not generally given to talking idly and in vain, with Orophin he minded no amount of unsubstantial chatter, for the very sound of the latter’s laughter and the happiness of his smiles infested Faramir with such cheer that he honestly could not care however trivial were the sentences that evoked them. And he observed that in the course of their meal he himself had already smiled and laughed more than in the entire term of his military tour. Yet at the same time Faramir knew he would never grow bored or tired of the Elf’s society, for should another day find him in a more inquisitive and scholarly mood, they could just as easily speak of the most complex arcane matters or delve into the depths of Elven lore.
When the supper was finished neither felt yet ready for sleep, and so the two moved to the more informal and comfortable seat on sofa, where they kicked their shoes off and sat cross-legged as they leisurely finished off Orophin’s bottle and slowly talked in lowered voices.
At some point Faramir trailed off, resting his gaze on the gently wavering flames in the hearth. He felt very quiet inside and absolutely sated in all senses, although without heaviness or drowsiness. The warmth that had come to fill his blood from within and envelop him from without was of an inoppressive variety, soothing and enheartening, and did not make the room feel in any way hot or stuffy.
Faramir took a deep breath and felt a soft peaceful smile settle in the corners of his mouth. The moment, although technically there was nothing special about it, was perfection itself. A simple inconspicuous jewel, so easy to be missed in the rush of chores and worries, it held all the beauty and harmony of life in itself. A homy fire, a cosy seat, a cup of redolent wine – and a dear friend to share it with…
A surmounting sensation of affection and attachment swelled in his chest, and Faramir turned to the Elf – with no clearer intention than to look at him, to see that he too felt all these wondrous things.
“Is something off?” Faramir could not help but ask when he saw the unguarded expression with which Orophin had been watching him. It was… The young man could not quite define what it was, yet for some reason it moved him greatly, and made him unable to draw his gaze from the Elf’s eyes – but he did not know he was unable, for it never occurred to him to try.
“No, I…” Orophin smiled with a most serene thoughtful smile, then murmured slowly, “I was only thinking how I’ve often told you we are not different at all, yet when I look at you I cannot help but feel wonder. We are made so alike, and yet…” He raised his long supple hand and, moving Faramir’s black lustrous hair aside with the inner side of his wrist, traced the contour of the Man’s ear with his fingertips. “It ever fascinates me how smooth and rounded your ears are. Especially since you truly have the hair of the Noldor, like the pristine starless night of the newborn world it is, and so silky too,” Orophin’s fingers lightly dipped into Faramir’s locks, as though curious to feel the silkiness. The back of the Elf’s hand came to fleetingly caress the Man’s neck as he did this, and Faramir shifted unconsciously into the touch. He knew then where all the warmth he so enjoyed had come from, for Orophin’s very body radiated it – and it felt to Faramir as though the touch went further than his skin, penetrating somewhere deeper into him. It felt very welcome and calming, and he smiled as Orophin proceeded to feel the faint trace of stubble on his cheek.
Orophin paused, looking intently and as though expectantly at him, and again there was a strange quality in his gaze that disturbed something inside Faramir – and this time so much so that the young man frowned a little for the intensity of it.
At once the Elf dropped both his hand and his eyes, his face filling up with colour. “Oh, that… wasn’t exactly well-conducted of me,” he murmured in a fluster, his voice thick and heavy. “I have quite forgotten myself, I am –”
Faramir chuckled softly and reached to touch him reassuringly on the upper arm.
“Orophin, you need not fear affronting me with your interest,” the Man said sincerely and even leant a little forward for emphasis. “I understand we and everything about us is still quite alien to you: ‘tis only natural for you to wonder about all sorts of things – even the rather amusing notion of hair growing on our faces – as we, in turn, are wondering about you. In point of fact, only yesterday I overheard a group of ladies speculating as to when you were going to get curious about one of their folk,” at this Faramir’s expression turned outright playful, and he raised his brows meaningfully.Orophin looked rather astounded by the prospect. “Oh, I… uh… I don’t think it would be prudent on my behalf to get involved into something of the sort,” he said doubtfully.
“Oh, my friend, I am not in any way instigating you to. They may deem it amusing to find some diversity in getting to know an intriguing fair-looking foreigner such as yourself, but I have strong doubts their fathers or husbands would share the notion,” Faramir replied with feigned seriousness, then laughed. But then he sighed and his face became serious again, this time in earnest. “I am sorry, I see I have unsettled you. We have never spoken of this, so I do not know, perhaps you had had to part with a wife or beloved when you left your realm. It was most certainly tactless of me to joke about such matters. You do not have to reply anything, of course.”
Orophin shifted in his seat a little, then said quietly, “No, I did not have to part with anyone. I did have family – but no one like that.” He shifted some more, then asked very casually, “Do you have a beloved?”
“Me?” Faramir snorted softly. “Heavens, no.”
Orophin narrowed his eyes. “You say that like it is a good thing.”
Faramir started, for indeed that was how he saw it, although up to then he had never consciously ruled as much. “Well, I…” he began vaguely. “I suppose ’tis easier for me this way. I am away on duty all the time, and in any case – what would be the point? ’Tis far too early for me to marry. With the place I am in right now, love can certainly wait.”
Orophin tilted his head to the side as he regarded the Man appraisingly. “You sound so rational about this one would almost think you don’t know what you are speaking about.”
Faramir grinned in confirmation. “And one would be quite correct – and if he were to ask me about it, I would say to him that love is often such a ruinous thing that I am in no rush to experience it.”
“So I gather you’ve had a few sorrows of your own…”
“Who hasn’t?” Faramir poured the rest of the wine into the cup, drowned it and got up to bring over the other bottle, the one the servant had initially brought for his supper.
As he returned to their seat, Orophin looked up at him with bright eyes. “Would you like me to sing for you?”
Faramir laughed. “What sort of a question is this? Of course I would.”
And Orophin sang.
It was not the likes of music Faramir had heard him perform before – in fact, it was not the likes of anything the young captain had ever heard. He could not make out the verses, for the language Orophin used was neither of the Elven tongues Faramir was familiar with, yet words were of little import, for the emotion came through in the very melody and poignancy of the piece. There was slow, deep-burning ardour in it, and tenderness inseparably interlaced with breath-stopping passion, and enduring devotion, and piercing tantalising ache.
And as he listened, Faramir’s heart filled with inexplicable longing, and the moment no longer appeared to him in any way perfect, for he had come to yearn for something greater, bigger, vaster… The longing felt all the stronger to him for the fact that as his emotions grew in complexity and force, Faramir’s mind became duller and vaguer, as though he were drugged or spellbound. And he liked it this way: it was easier not to think, to give all of himself over to the music.
When Orophin finished, Faramir only gazed at him hazily and said nothing, and so for a time they sat and sipped the wine, passing the one goblet they had back and forth.
Then eventually Faramir shifted in his seat.
“Orophin…?”
“Mm…?”
“May I ask you an awkward question?”
Orophin smiled at him encouragingly, and Faramir went on. “Whenever I am close to you, I can’t help but notice you… how to put this…? You smell like a meadow in bloom. Do you… use some kind of oil on yourself?”
Orophin narrowed his eyes faintly and gave the Man a broad grin. “Why? Does it irritate you?”
“No, no. I didn’t mean to offend you, please don’t think that. ‘Tis merely that I find it rather unusual, so I could not resist asking.”
Orophin nodded and pursed back a smile. Then he laughed softly and said with a twinkle in his eye, “I don’t use anything. ‘Tmust be my natural scent.”
“Really? I would have never thought…Oh, I am sorry, I am not being tactful here,” Faramir trailed off, growing progressively embarrassed, and pressed is fingertips to his forehead. He should not have drunk all that wine, then he would not have been ridiculing himself so…
Orophin, however, seemed amused, if anything. “Don’t fret, I don’t mind you asking me things like this. As a matter of fact, I am glad that you did, for I had been entirely unaware it was prominent enough to be noticed.”
“But it is,” Faramir countered with a chuckle. Again, he felt more drunk than he would have liked to be, but he could hardly do anything about it. “Actually, I think I smelled you long before I actually saw you for the first time. It is not my imagination, is it? You did come to sit before me back when I only just arrived to Ithilien, on that dark night…?”
“So I did,” Orophin confirmed with a strange new smile, slow and indulging. “And it was, if you wish to know, because of your arrival that I got to meet all your Rangers face to face.”
“How is that?”
“Well,” Orophin shrugged vaguely, as though about to recount some inexplicable foolishness on his behalf, “I just could not bring myself to ‘borrow’ things from your camp anymore. Not after I saw you and the cold shoulder they all were giving you. So… I just went to steal from the Orcs instead – and they, apparently, had smelled me out, too. And that’s how it all came about,” he waved his hand, “the chase and all that followed.”
“I see…”
“And now, may I put forward an awkward question of my own?”
“Certainly,” Faramir invited with a broad smile.
“That time you spoke of, when I came to watch you – is it just my imagination, or did you grow hard looking back at me?”
Faramir stared at him agape, entirely at a loss for words.
“Well, I…” he managed after a long moment of eloquent silence. “Yes, I am afraid I did. Although, to tell the truth, I did not become fully aware of it until after you were gone – besides, I didn’t know it was that… noticeable, given it was so dark, and I had my blanket wrapped around me…” he trailed off, struck by a sudden thought. “Oh, no, was it that plain in my face?”
Orophin smiled coyly. “Nay, it wasn’t ‘noticeable’, and it wasn’t ‘plain’. I didn’t see anything, but I sure sensed it.”
“Oh…” Faramir frowned, uncertain what the Elf was driving at. “Well, I… I still cannot understand why it happened, and, truly, you must excuse it. I realise just what an impression it gives, but please rest assured –”
“But I don’t want to excuse it,” Orophin murmured softly, leaning in to him, “I’d much rather take it as a compliment.”
His hand lay on Faramir’s shoulder in a very intimate way, and when the Man turned his confused gaze towards it, the Elf leant in some more and warmly pressed his lips against Faramir’s.
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Wow, December, I did hope that my request would go to you, I know you write so well… but I never expected to get an eighteen-chapter story! And how will I find the time to read it all, now?
Well, thank you so much, I’m sure I’ll love it, and I’ll start reading at once; but you might have to wait a bit for a full commentary…
— Nerey Camille Sunday 19 December 2010, 13:50 #