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Family Games (NC-17)
Written by December19 December 2010 | 65301 words
Chapter 13. Happiness
In a flash, Faramir’s clarity of mind was back.
With a sharp gasp he jolted away and stared at his friend in bewilderment. Many things he understood in that moment, some of which of course he should have understood long ago – and yet could not make sense of any of it… How could this be happening…?
“Orophin, no! We shouldn’t be doing this!” He uttered desperately, putting his hands up in front of his chest in a gesture of warning.
The Elf seemed entirely unfazed as he tilted his fair head to the side and smiled thoughtfully. “We shouldn’t – or you don’t want to?”
“Both!”
“Really?” the Elf raised his brow. “You have never thought of this?”
Faramir laughed awkwardly. “Well, I wouldn’t be entirely frank if I said no. I do deem you very lovely, after all, so of course the notion has occurred to me… But only as an idle thought, Orophin! I had never intended –”
Orophin snorted softly. “Oh, please!” He looked at Faramir in unconcealed disappointment. “Faramir, I wasn’t born yesterday, I know the signs when I see them, don’t act like you –” but he saw the distress his words caused, and softened. “Well, perhaps you do not see it yourself – but I do: you like me, you truly do. It just,” he spread his hands, “shows.”
Faramir breathed out heavily. “Orophin, I am serious. We cannot do this. It is no matter what I would or would not: these… these things are not allowed in my society.” Growing increasingly uncomfortable to remain sitting so close to his friend, he stood up and took a step back, to put some sobering distance between them. “So let us just drop it, shall we?” He was feeling progressively hot and overwhelmed, as though what wine he had drunk had by some magic turned into stronger spirits in his belly, and was swiftly unraveling him. “I…” Faramir turned away and brought his hand to his forehead. “Goodness, I…”
“They are not allowed in mine either,” the Elf said casually, addressing his back.
Faramir turned around sharply, his gaze ablaze with exasperation. “Please don’t compare,” he said sternly. “You don’t know what you are talking about. Such a liaison – a single night with a man – could destroy your entire life. Even if people just think you’ve had such a night, that would be enough.”
Orophin jerked his chin up, his lightheartedness evaporating. “Trust me, my prudent friend, I know exactly what I am talking about.”
For a moment Faramir gazed at him mutely, then recognition lit up the Man’s face. “So that is why you had to leave your land…?”
“Technically, yes,” Orophin replied frankly, looking him square in the face.
“I am truly sorry to learn this,” Faramir said sincerely. “But all the more reason not to set on the same path again, Orophin. I am serious, this sort of thing is granted very little tolerance here. It might jeopardise everything you’ve managed to obtain here, I –”
Orophin tilted his head to the side. “Will you get in serious trouble because of this?”
Faramir puffed his cheeks. “To be honest… I don’t know. But I am quite certain that you would, in one way or another. Orophin, please, let us be reasonable. You have told me yourself that you enjoy your life here – in any case, I am sure it is by far better than what you had out in the wild all on your own, with no one to even talk to. Would you truly wish to throw it all away for – for what, exactly? What could I offer you, even if I would? A stealthy tryst once in a few months? Is that how little you value yourself?” The young man saw his speech was failing to achieve even a fraction of the desired effect, and his expression grew stern once again. “I see I am not likely to get you to change your mind – fair enough. In that case I shall tell you this: whatever your attitude, I for one am not inclined to ruin your happiness with my own hands. It was I who brought you here in the first place, and I feel responsible for your well-being. And –”
“Happiness?” Orophin gave a curt laugh of disbelief. “Faramir, do you genuinely believe there actually is something to ruin? Do not take me wrong, I mean no disrespect to you or Lord Denethor. My existence is indeed made safe and comfortable: I am fed, and clothed, and given a bed to sleep in, and I even have an occupation to make me feel of some use – for all of which I am profoundly grateful, but…” he spread his arms, showing Faramir his empty hands. “I am sorry to come across as hard to please, but if you truly care about my happiness, and not merely use it as an excuse to get me out of your face, you have to understand that this is not enough,” he shook his head sadly. “I wish it were, but it is not. You know well enough how my heart aches to go to the fair woods over the River – and lately so much so that I am beginning to feel akin to a captive in this city of washed-out stone, where there are only a handful of trees, and the fairest of those is dead. The people here are strangers to me, and so I am to them. They may look at me in wonder and smile, and children may follow me in the street, but that is no different from how they would treat a horse with a second head growing out of its rear – and if they knew I would seek the passion of another man, they would likely throw rocks, too.”
The sternness had left Faramir’s features, and he now stood with deepest distress darkening his clear gaze. Pity came to overrule apprehension in him, and slowly he approached his friend and laid his hand on Orophin’s shoulder. “I am sorry it has turned out this way. It had seemed to me my father would indeed send you to Ithilien when you healed.”
“It is not your fault, I never said that,” the Elf replied quietly. “Yet it is already more than obvious that he is not sending me anywhere,” he looked up at Faramir with his faintly green eyes, and there was great gravity in his gaze. “So it would not be a spoonful of exaggeration on my behalf to say that if there is a source of joy in my days, it is seeing you. When I’m with you, I cease to recognise myself. When first you spoke to me, Faramir, I deemed myself too proud to even talk back to you, I was spiteful and hateful – and now look where I’ve come: I’m offering you myself, you say no, and yet I offer again and feel no shame… Every time you came to see me, to be with me, a part of the woe that haunted my step would fall away and dissolve, until one day I discovered the past no longer has its roots in me. And when I look upon you, I do not wish to return to the life my people live, one of sorrowful reminiscences of what had been and equally sorrowful dreams of what might have been if only fate had turned otherwise. I no longer wish to overlook the joy that is possible, that is here, in the now, there for me to see if only I would open my eyes – and you, Faramir, are all the joy that I need. Never before had I met one who would look beyond my appearance – and look with true interest and not idle curiosity, one who would rather give to me than take from me, and not smile at me when I’m blithe to then wave me away at the first sign of trouble; one who would put my safety before his pleasure… And the sheer way you look at me, with this warm clear light in your eyes…” Orophin laughed softly. “Nay, don’t blush, ‘tis true – I ever see it when you gaze upon me! Tell me, Faramir, do you truly, in the depths of your fëa, believe that it would be wrong to love me?” He rose to stand face to face with the Man.
“But Orophin, I do love you,” Faramir replied with a strain in his voice. “You are dear to me in very many ways, and your beauty moves my heart, and…” he brought his hands to his chest and clenched his fists emphatically. “And all the more so I want to do right by you! You are so pure, so fine… Can’t I just love you,” he looked at the Elf pleadingly, “chastely?”
“Chastely,” the other reiterated with cutting irony. “By Elbereth, you seem to hold celibacy for some ultimate virtue.”
Faramir lowered his face and pursed his lips. “Orophin, believe me, this is not easy for me. But yes, among the values I’ve been brought up to claim, a prominent place is given to that of abstaining from…” he closed his eyes, finding it incredibly difficult to speak on the matter directly, “from intimate contacts of the sort you are offering me now. Your kiss was one thing, and that I could return – but I know that is not all you would desire, and I just can’t… I don’t have it in me, I…”
“Good heavens, Faramir, this is indeed what you want to tell yourself,” Orophin shook his head, his features assuming a hard contemptuous expression. “Everything about your make, your bearing screams such raw, staggering sensuality only a dead man would fail to feel it – but for you it is more convenient to persuade yourself to remain oblivious of it. And I had taken you for someone with enough wit and daring to look just a little bit beyond the notion of what some conventional dullard would have done in your place.” The Elf pursed his lips and raised his brows in bitter disillusionment, then lifted his hands in a placating gesture and said in a highly official manner, “I am sorry, I was mistaken in my assumptions. I reckon it’d be better I leave now and spare us the awkwardness.”
“Wait…!” Faramir called after him only moments later, and the helplessness and despair in his voice caught at the Elf.
“I don’t need your pity,” Orophin spoke drily, turning back to him to give the Man an icy glare. “I know you are kind, and not a man to rejoice in spurning another, but if you can’t find it in yourself to accept what I wish to share with you, then at least do me a favour and don’t pity me.”
“I don’t mean… to pity you,” Faramir replied with effort, his voice having gone into a feat of disobedience. Orophin raised a brow and studied him apprehensively, saying nothing.
The young man inhaled deeply and closed his eyes for a moment before trying to continue. “Perhaps I am not as daring or clever as you thought me to be,” he said wearily, “but at least I have enough sense and honesty to acknowledge the verity of a truth when it is thrust in my face like so.” Again the Elf said nothing, and only stood watching him, and slowly Faramir came up to him. “Orophin, I do want you to be happy,” he said quietly but with great feeling. He raised his hand as though to touch the Elf on the face, hesitated for a moment, then gently brushed his fingertips down Orophin’s cheek before adding in barely a whisper, “and I do want… to be with you…”
A sharp gasp escaped him when Orophin stepped up to him so that their bodies touched shoulder to shoulder, chest to chest, thigh to thigh – but he did not step away and, lowering his face, murmured weakly, “I only ask… don’t rush me…”
He inhaled deeply and a shiver ran through him when Orophin embraced him and lowered his head to the Man’s shoulder. Faramir’s own arms remained hanging by his sides, and only his fingers twitched with a faint impulse of what he was not exactly certain. He shut his eyes, sighed and voluntarily surrendered his perception to the many sensations demanding entrance – he was doing this, he may as well live the experience through.
And soon he knew that what trepidation was holding him in a clinch came exclusively from his mind, for all other aspects of his being found nothing whatsoever unsettling about his friend’s embrace. Faramir felt again the living warmth that passed right into his body, to his very marrow, soothing and unbracing all his tissues, effortlessly and naturally making all tension leave him. Like water accurately and seamlessly fills all space provided to it, so this warmth sought out all the voids in him, all the places of worry and ache, and smoothly suffused them with its calming glow.
The world outside was dark and cold, and for what Faramir knew of it mostly hostile, and here there was a chance to find a small harbour of companionship and affection, to spend the night in peace, and gladness, and tenderness.
He sighed and bowed his head to rest it side to side against Orophin’s, the Elf’s soft hair cushioning his cheek, and raised his hands to lightly place them on the other’s waist. Orophin felt exceptionally svelte and firm in his hold, full of life and energy, and Faramir very acutely perceived the subtle movement the Elf made in response to his touch, shifting closer and arching a little, the muscles of his sides and abdomen flexing under Faramir’s fingers and palms. It surprised Faramir how intense it already felt, even this little contact, how it filled him with wonder, and made him imagine just how hot and smooth Orophin’s body would feel without the insulation of his garments.
From then on there was no retreat back into thinking that theirs was a purely conventional friendship, for Faramir’s were not a friend’s thoughts. He felt only relief at finally arriving at this conclusion, for now there was no longer any need to watch and analyse himself.
And so they stood for a long, long while – not moving, not saying anything, only shifting a little closer still, breathing on the other’s scent, getting accustomed to the feel of the other’s body in their arms.
At last Orophin pulled back a little, and looked at Faramir with a private hazy gaze that made everything inside him flutter and contract. Then Orophin’s eyes trailed lower to Faramir’s lips, and he brought his hand to touch his fingertips to the Man’s cheek and the corner of his mouth.
Knowing what was to come next, Faramir closed his eyes and allowed it to happen.
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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 #