Faramir Fiction Archive

Family Honor (NC-17)

Written by Mcguffan

14 July 2006 | 162886 words

Chapter 7

When the group returned to camp, Flyn was waiting. Faramir was a little surprised to see him so soon and he told the lieutenant to wait a few minutes while he tried to convince Aragorn and Halbarad to avail themselves of his pavilion. Aragorn declined, preferring to let Halbarad have a meal- for Aragorn had noticed his friend looked pale, tired and even thinner than usual- then the two would talk as Halbarad explored the camp. Faramir wanted to insist but he could see how odd it would seem for him to relinquish the pavilion to two rangers. Unable to do more, Faramir instructed the quartermaster that Aragorn and Halbarad were to be given anything they needed. Then with one last apologetic look at Aragorn, he called to Flyn and went off to receive the lieutenant’s report. As the first taste of stew that touched his tongue Halbarad felt himself go light-headed. He had forgotten that he had a body and that it needed regular feeding. Aragorn sat near him watching with tender concern as his friend lifted the spoon to his lips. Halbarad knew he would have to be careful. Though ravenous hunger surged through him, Halbarad suspected that if he did not eat slowly he would end by vomiting up the first decent food he had had in weeks. Then, Aragorn would grow stern and serious and Halbarad would find himself confined to his blankets, while mankind’s hope for the future crooned over him feeding him spoonfuls of porridge. Halbarad would not let that happen and so exerting all his self-control he sipped at the rich broth, counting to five between each mouthful.

Aragorn waited until Halbarad had finished eating before saying anything. It grieved him to see his friend so obviously starving and exhausted. He was too happy at their reunion, though, to raise Halbarad’s ire by insisting he take better care of himself. For some reason Halbarad believed that any time Aragorn spent looking after him was time wasted. This was especially incomprehensible to the northern chieftain since Halbarad doted on Aragorn like a mother with her babe. When Halbarad had made it through bowl of stew and declined a second helping, not sure if his digestion was up to it, Aragorn gave him a full account of all that had happened on the journey to Khand and at the gathering.

After Aragorn had told him everything Halbarad sat for a moment chewing his lip. His chieftain recognized the gesture and waited patiently for his friend to formulate his comments. “This Faramir, this son of Denethor, he loves you?”

“Yes.” Halbarad nodded at the reply unsurprised.

“You love him, too?”

“Yes.” Halbarad nodded again. Unconsciously, his face had grown grim.

“Do not tell me you object, my friend.” Aragorn sounded amused. It was not in Halbarad’s nature to disapprove or second guess anything his lord did. Indeed, if Aragorn announced that he had his heart set on marrying Elbereth then Halbarad would have begun helping him plan the courtship while still thinking in his heart of hearts that the Vala wasn’t really good enough for him.

“Of course not!” Halbarad snorted. “It seems to me though that you have so little time that you may spend with Elrond’s daughter and I foresee that you will have even less time to spend with Denethor’s son and I would prefer to see those you choose to love always at your side.”

“I have you, do I not.” Aragorn answered, putting an arm about Halbarad and pulling him into a quick hug. “Besides, there may come a time when I may have all the time I could wish with both Arwen and Faramir.”

Halbarad perked up at this. He liked hearing Aragorn speculate about a future where he could once again reclaim all that was his. This thought though quickly reminded Halbarad of something else he wished to say. “What does Gandalf find so very important about this gauntlet that he thinks it is worth your time?”

“He believes the relic still contains magic and he wishes to study it.” Aragorn replied. He did not tell Halbarad that Gandalf had also wished to encourage a friendship between Faramir and himself for he knew Halbarad would bridle at what he would see as interference.

“Sometimes I wonder about that wizard’s priorities.”

“Halbarad, Gandalf has been fighting the dark lord for centuries beyond counting. I think he knows what he is doing.” Aragorn was serious but he found there was not the least sting in his words. He was far too pleased to see Halbarad again for even a mild reproof. Sensing his advantage and overjoyed to find his lord in such a happy mood, Halbarad hid a grin behind his hand.

“Tell me of yourself, then. Since my own mission strikes you as so very inessential.” Aragorn demanded, feeling that he had been more than generous in allowing Halbarad to collect and organize his thoughts.

“I have had a very odd experience.” Halbarad complied, sobering immediately. “I was content to believe it meaningless, although finding you here I cannot help but suspect that there is something sinister at work.” All banter forgotten, Aragorn listened to Halbarad with all his attention.

“I was nearly ready to leave Khand, as you know. I had put in a good six months and I was ready to return west, but a story reached me before my departure of a living skeleton haunting the caves around a small lake- oh about- twenty miles northeast of here. It did occur to me that it might be that creature Gandalf is always on about. At the very least, it was worth investigating. Delaying my departure, I traveled to the area. The local villagers convinced me that there was something there and some people claimed to have heard a wretched howling coming from the caves. A few said there were two creatures but most claimed that the sounds of a second condemned soul were only an echo.”

“I went to explore the caves. It was a good hiding place for their was a vast network of intersecting underground passages. They ran beneath the lake and everything was covered in wet and slime. I spent a long time underground. If I was quiet I could hear the creature scrabbling along the rock. Sometimes I was sure the thing was not more than a hundred yards ahead of me. The creature appeared to live on fish when it could get it, otherwise it relied on worms and insects. I pursued him as best I could in the near darkness but there came a time when, in my haste and frustration, I neglected caution.”

“I was climbing up a small incline into a new series of caves, when rocks poured down on me from above. The creature had lured me in and I was helpless. A rock fell sharply against the back of my head then another collided against my shoulder. The wall was slick and I lost my hold. I woke with a terrible throbbing in my head and shoulder but, in truth, I was grateful to be alive. The creature must have come to inspect his handiwork for my pack had been taken, my cloak and weapons were also gone. I checked and found that I still had the knife in my boot but I had no food, no sword and no blanket.”

“I was in no condition to continue the pursuit so I tried to return along the way I had come. I often felt dizzy and light headed from the blow to my head and that must have affected my judgement for I took several wrong turns. I emerged finally into the daylight very pleased to be alive. Apparently the creature had been frightened off by my pursuit and the villagers gave me credit for ridding them of the menace. I was glad for they were generous with me given what little they had. The next day I started for the gathering, so that I could make a report and make plans to leave this country.”

“That does indeed seem to match all that Gandalf has said of Gollum.” Aragorn said, wishing Halbarad had not undertaken to follow the creature by himself. “He should be easier to track to his next hiding place since the trail is so fresh. You have made my task much easier, though I would have preferred that you only had mentioned the rumor you heard and then returned west after you had completed your own mission.”

Halbarad did not comment on this. The capture of Gollum was another task he wished Gandalf had never mentioned to Aragorn. Though Halbarad would have denied it strenuously, he was a little resentful of Gandalf. To his mind, the wizard imposed far too much upon his friendship with the Dunedain chieftain. Halbarad would have been happy to do all the wizard’s legwork if it would spare Aragorn being importuned.

“When you go to track him I will go with you. He is a sneaky little menace. While there are two of us he shall not be able to take us unawares.”

“We shall see.” Aragorn wanted Halbarad to go home. He had already done his part and more in regards to Gollum. “But you spoke of an odd experience. You did not mean the encounter with Gollum?”

“Nay, events did not proceed according to my plan after I left the village. I had not gone far when a half dozen Variag soldiers caught me. I suspected they would kill me and mostly I was embarrassed to have been such easy prey. Before one of their games actually proved fatal, however, another patrol happened along and ruined the fun. The next I knew I was hanging over someone’s saddlebow. I was taken to a much larger encampment of Variags than I had ever seen so far west- Do you know there are close to a 500 warriors sworn to Sauron less than ten miles from here?”

“I did not. All my reconnaissance has been limited to the gathering itself. You are not saying the Variags are poised to attack? No one would attack a gathering.” Aragorn had listened to Halbarad’s story with attention and deep sympathy. He knew his friend had had a very rough time and yet there was nothing of complaint in his story. He reported what he believed would be most relevant to Aragorn and downplayed his own hardship. The news of so many Variags so close was shocking.

“I don’t think they mean to attack the gathering. Such a thing would be pure anathema to any of Khandrim- And even if it weren’t the Variags would still need more than 500 men.” Halbarad added practically.

“What happened once you were taken into their camp.” Aragorn asked. Even though, Halbarad was here in front of him, whole if not altogether hale, Aragorn still felt suspense for his friend.

“Not much. I feigned unconsciousness for a while and it seemed to me the men who had captured me were in a great deal of trouble with their superiors. Water was eventually thrown in my face and I started spluttering in the common tongue. I had already given my first captors the idea that I had a very poor grasp of their language. I was, then, interrogated by someone of obvious authority. Well perhaps not interrogated exactly, I was asked who I was and what my business was. I said something banal about being `just a simple lad on his way to the great gathering to make his fortune.’ I expected to be slapped for not even bothering to be creative but to my surprise my interrogator nodded as though this was the answer he wanted.”

“‘You are a lucky little foreigner,’ the man told me with a faint smile. `Ordinarily we would already have cut you into so many pieces your own mother wouldn’t recognize you. Our captain, however, happens to believe strongly in an old tradition that demands that no man be harmed at the gathering or on his way there.’ I couldn’t believe him. I wondered if this was a new game where my hopes would be raised then dashed much to the amusement of all. But as I crouched in the puddle of water that had been thrown at me the man nudged me with his boot. `Run along, little foreigner. Don’t get caught again.’ I needed no more urging. I stood up and ran as fast as I was able. No one stopped me.”

“I was confused, though not at all displeased to be released. I thought the experience would be an interesting story suitable for mixed company but after arriving here and finding you… I am worried, Aragorn. Why did they let me go? What is it that I don’t understand?” Fear for his lord was clearly having working on Halbarad’s nerves. He felt frustrated. What he wanted more than anything was to hear that Aragorn was worried too and that they would be leaving tomorrow for Rivendell, just to be safe.

“It does seem strange but I do not see why it cannot be as you thought before. Surely you and I have seen enough in our time not to be surprised by the unpredictability of human nature.”

Halbarad took a deep breath trying to control his sense of urgent peril. “It occurs to me that there is a plot here. Somehow the dark lord and his minions are moving against you. I do not believe it is safe for you here.”

“‘Moving against me’? Halbarad, no one knows I exist. Certainly Faramir must be told about the large force of Variags outside the gathering but if there is some scheme it is much more likely to concern some matter between the tribes or even between the Variags and Gondor.”

“No one is supposed to know you exist but if you did exist then the enemy would certainly know a few things about you.” Halbarad paused a moment, metaphysics was not his strong point but he knew that Sauron would always carry a grudge. “For example, the dark lord would know that if an heir of Isildur lived he would be a tall, dark-haired, light-eyed man of the west. Perhaps he would also know that Isildur’s Heir would be preoccupied with his family’s honor, including all the various treasures of his House.”

“Halbarad, you are a tall, dark-haired, light-eyed man of the west. You could be Isildur’s Heir. You very nearly are. Yet by your own account, the Variags released you. If you are right and all these soldiers are skulking about seeking Isildur’s Heir why did they let you go? The Variags were probably only there to intimidate the other tribes.” Halbarad’s distress caused Aragorn too worry a little that Halbarad was more fatigued than he had let on.

“I don’t know, but my lord, I don’t trust it.”

“I have learned to respect your instincts, my friend, but I cannot flee from all danger. If there is some plan afoot then I want to know what it is. I do not like the idea of hiding from the unknown. Besides, I have undertaken a task and I mean to complete it.” Aragorn sensed that he was on the verge of becoming pig-headed regarding the gauntlet. Both Faramir and Halbarad had tried to dissuade him from pursuing it but both men, he knew, were over-careful of him. His own inclination had been against involving himself with the tournament but Gandalf had urged him. Now that he was committed, though, he would not abandon his task unless he were given clear evidence that the danger to him was real.

Halbarad knew Aragorn well and could see that his chieftain had dug in his heels and would remain in Khand. In truth, he had suspected it would be so. Aragorn was tenacious and Halbarad respected that. The decision had been made and now Halbarad would do all he could to be of use in whatever course his lord chose. Fully resigned to remaining at the gathering Halbarad set his mind the task of retrieving the `killing fist’ and bringing it safely home.

“You said Gandalf believed the gauntlet still had some magic in it. Do you know what kind, perhaps something capable of neutralizing five hundred enemy soldiers?” Halbarad suggested hopefully.

“No, from what Gandalf said the gauntlet did not seem overly powerful in itself, just a showy way of killing someone.” Aragorn replied.

“Did the wizard give you any indication of why he thought it was so important?” Halbarad wanted to know if this prize his lord was seeking would be of any benefit at all.

“He said it was of great symbolic importance. He said that a superstitious dread would surround the object and its wielder and that therefore it should not fall into the hands of the enemy.” Aragorn was aware that Halbarad would be even less impressed by Gandalf’s talk of symbolism than he himself had been and by the sound of his friend’s annoyed grunt he could tell that he was right.

“There will be time enough to discuss these matters later, Halbarad. The night grows late and I believe that you are in dire need of rest.” Aragorn announced. He was tired himself and did not know how Halbarad still managed to be coherent.

“I could do with some sleep.” Halbarad admitted. “Do you fight again tomorrow?”

“Yes, but Halbarad I want you to rest tomorrow. Do not worry about me. Take care of yourself. That is an order.” The two men stared at each other a moment and then Halbarad dropped his eyes.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Aragorn was very pleased to have his friend’s word and again he drew him into a hug. “I will tell Faramir of the Variags. Sleep well, my friend.”

“Good night, Aragorn.”

Faramir sat at his desk within his pavilion doing his best to draft a proposal for a historical expedition into Khand that would appeal to his father. He had spoken only a few minutes with Flyn. The man had reported that he had been very bored and that he had left as soon as he saw that the meeting was breaking up. Faramir suspected that Flyn had been the second one out the door, but he let it go. He had only intended to demonstrate Gondor’s interest in the meeting and his lieutenant had served that purpose. Now, though it was growing quite late, Faramir continued to work. In truth, he hoped Aragorn would come to him but he warned himself over and over not to expect it.

Despite his resolution to have no expectation when Faramir heard a soft scratching on canvas he jumped from his chair, grinning wildly. Running to the tent entrance, Faramir frantically smoothed down his hair and tried to slow the frantic beating of his heart. `It probably isn’t Aragorn’, Faramir told himself urgently, `do not hope’. Drawing aside the flap of canvas, all of Faramir’s anticipatory anxiety changed into relief and joy as Aragorn stood before him.

“I did not wake you?”

“No, no, I was working.” Faramir was unable to suppress his grin as he stood aside so Aragorn could come in. “How is your friend?”

“He will be better after a little rest and regular feeding.” Aragorn replied, drawing Faramir into a strong embrace. “He says that there are close to 500 Variag soldiers east of the gathering. It might be prudent to send a few scouts to confirm his report.”

“Do you imagine we will be attacked?” Faramir asked, instantly becoming serious though without extricating himself from Aragorn’s arms.

“I think it is unlikely but I would like to know their purpose and if any of the other tribes know they are there.” Faramir nodded in agreement as he tugged Aragorn toward the sprawl of cushions.

“You said you had work tonight, my dear, would you prefer that I go?”

“No! Please stay.” Faramir begged, imploring Aragorn with gentle, coaxing pressure to make himself comfortable.

“I want to stay.” Aragorn reassured Faramir, kissing his forehead before settling amid the scattered furs and pillows.

As soon as the ranger was at ease Faramir set to the task of removing his boots. For a moment the younger man feared Aragorn would try to dissuade him but after a second of hesitation Aragorn relaxed and allowed Faramir to do as he liked. Faramir took Aragorn’s now bare feet onto his lap and caressed them a while before asking quietly: “Are you certain you would not prefer to spend time with your friend. I understand that you have not seen each other for a while.”

“With a little luck Halbarad is oblivious to all company by now. He needs rest. I fear I have already kept him up too late talking.” Aragorn replied leaning forward and tugging Faramir forward until he had the younger man more or less on his lap. “My Halbarad is much like what you have told me of your Boromir. For he is all strength and ferocity but with those he cares for he is tender and protective. Further, he will not readily admit the strain his burdens place upon him. Nor does he allow himself to take all the comfort that is offered.”

Faramir lay his head on Aragorn’s chest, feeling the rumble of the ranger’s deep voice. If Aragorn had intended to choose words that would most quickly endear Halbarad to the young captain he could not have found better. Faramir had fought against it, but he had felt envious since Aragorn had introduced Halbarad as his dear friend and kinsman. He was not jealous. He did not begrudge Aragorn and Halbarad their friendship. He could not be so petty. When he thought of all the time, however, that the two had spent together, of everything Halbarad knew of Aragorn’s adventures, his tastes and preferences, of all the occasions Halbarad had been there to talk to Aragorn, comfort him, share his troubles and defend him from all that threatened him it made Faramir mournful and discontent.

“You will like Boromir when you meet him.” Faramir said, trying to move closer to Aragorn though he was already pressed firmly against the older man.

“I know I will. Your affection for him is the highest recommendation.” Cradling Faramir’s head in his hands Aragorn kissed him, then. The younger man responded eagerly, moaning softly as the kiss deepened.

As their tongues danced together, Faramir ran his hands up and down Aragorn’s back. When the kiss ended, Faramir still panting, let his head drop onto Aragorn’s shoulder. Not quite sure what he intended, the younger man took a fold of the ranger shirt in his teeth and sucked at it. He made a soft mew as he tasted Aragorn’s sweat in the rough cloth. Letting go of the fabric, Faramir turned his head and rubbed his cheek over the place he had just tasted.

While the ranger gently kneaded Faramir’s neck and scalp, the younger man started moving his head towards the collar of Aragorn’s shirt. He sent his tongue questing between the buttons holding the collar closed until he finally tasted the warm flesh beneath the cloth. Faramir pushed harder into the little gap, his tongue licking avidly. The small hollow at the base of the ranger’s throat filled Faramir with insatiable craving. Soon the buttons gave way beneath Faramir’s insistence but Aragorn’s torso still remained covered. Unable to force the fabric to part further Faramir made a small frustrated noise.

Both amused and aroused, Aragorn eased Faramir back a bit then pulled his own shirt over his head. As Aragorn’s muscled chest and abdomen were revealed, Faramir smiled broadly. Licking his lips, he threw himself on Aragorn once more. Kisses rained down upon the ranger with intermittent contributions from Faramir’s smooth tongue. Aragorn groaned softly as Faramir found his nipple and began earnestly suckling. As his breath came harder Aragorn began making attempts to remove Faramir’s shirt. The young man assisted as best he could without pausing in his adoring ministrations. When his collar had been loosened and his arm carefully extracted from his sleeves the shirt hung loosely about Faramir’s neck. Aragorn had to insist before Faramir would lean back and allow the garment to be removed. As soon as the shirt was over Faramir’s head, however, the younger man returned to his task.

Faramir felt starved and only touching and tasting his beloved Aragorn could fill him. He took strength and energy from the man and he craved more even as he felt himself being restored. Aragorn’s hands played over his back and Faramir lowered his head trailing wet, sucking kisses down to his navel. After licking several slow, broad circles around Aragorn’s navel Faramir’s tongue dipped in. Aragorn groaned softly in response. The combination of Faramir’s hair trailing softly across his belly, the rough scrape of his beard and the attentive sweetness of his mouth were having a profound effect on the ranger.

The pace of Faramir’s worshipful exploration had slowed considerably as the young man moved lower down Aragorn’s body. It was as though the first wave of intense hunger had passed and now Faramir was savoring everything. When Faramir lowered his head again he encountered the top of Aragorn’s trousers. This barrier seemed to confuse him a little. The young man bit at the leather belt around Aragorn’s waist and the picture of Faramir holding the soft leather in his teeth made Aragorn catch his breath. Hearing the change in his beloved’s breathing Faramir looked up at Aragorn with questioning yet hopeful eyes, wanting to go further but feeling the need for explicit permission.

“What do you want, kitten?” Aragorn asked stroking Faramir’s hair.

“I want to taste you.” Faramir dropped a soft kiss on the bulge in Aragorn’s trousers. “Please.”

“I think you have nearly consumed me entirely, my love.” So saying he pulled Faramir up along his body until he could claim the younger man’s mouth. Still kissing, Aragorn guided Faramir hands to his belt and the laces of his trousers and as Faramir eagerly began undressing him the ranger started work on the remainder of Faramir’s clothing.

Leaning back on his elbows, Aragorn allowed Faramir to slowly drag his trousers down his hips and thighs and off his legs. Faramir’s every movement was slow and gentle. His expression betrayed his wonder that he should be gifted with any knowledge of the man before him. Finally, when Aragorn lay fully revealed and Faramir’s own trousers had fallen passed his hip, Faramir, supporting himself on knees and elbows lowered his head over Aragorn’s groin.

Aragorn could not contain a soft cry as Faramir’s mouth closed over the tip of his erection. Light blue eyes focused instantly upon his face but seeing only pleasure Faramir returned his attention to the rigid flesh between his lips. He sucked gently and used his tongue to probe beneath the foreskin. Aragorn’s thighs were against Faramir’s chest and the younger man could feel the slight tremors run through the taut muscles in response to his action.

Releasing the head of Aragorn’s erection, Faramir licked the shaft up and down, from base to tip and back. He loved the feel of the hot skin as he slid his tongue along it. Carefully so as not abrade the sensitive flesh, he took hold of the thick shaft and pressed the highest part of his cheek to it. Faramir made a small groan as he felt Aragorn’s penis against his face. All of the caresses that Faramir had so lovingly delivered had caused at least as much pleasure and excitement to burn through the younger man as the older and Faramir felt a sweet ache building in his groin. Forced to squeeze his eyes tightly shut as his body was seized by a paroxysm of passion, Faramir readjusted his position so he could stroke his own pulsing shaft as well as attend to Aragorn.

Unable to hold back any longer Faramir took Aragorn as deep into his mouth as he could. Even as the tip nudged at the back of his throat, Faramir realized there was much more of Aragorn for him to take within himself. Drawing in a deep breath, Faramir tried to let Aragorn fill his throat. For a moment, it seemed to work but then reflex took over and Faramir had to pull away quickly. He coughed and tears stung his eyes:

“I’m sorry.” Faramir managed to exclaim through the spasms in his throat.

“No, sweetheart. Be easy” Aragorn comforted, sitting up and caressing Faramir’s back. His voice was a gravelly mix of concern and desire. “It isn’t necessary for you to try to do that, Faramir. You already feel so good.” Faramir’s cough quickly subsided but the younger man could not help but feel disappointed. He had wanted to be able to take all Aragorn could give him, to be strong enough and skillful enough to fully satisfy his beloved lord. He could not do it though and he felt keenly the metaphorical implications of his failure.

“You must not stop, my love. I need you.” Aragorn called softly seeing the look of dejection descend over the younger man’s features. “Will you deny me more of the great pleasure I always find in you.” Aragorn had difficulty understanding why his beautiful Faramir had such unreasonable expectations of himself or why any perceived inability to meet those unreasonable expectations filled him with such despair, but Aragorn loved and appreciated the younger man and he really didn’t give a damn if Faramir managed to swallow him on his first try or not.

At such prompting Faramir could not do otherwise but abandon all thought of his own inadequacy and return to giving everything he could to Aragorn. The avid intensity of Faramir’s lips, mouth and tongue soon had Aragorn groaning softly and clutching Faramir’s shoulder. Just as the pleasure grew past bearing, Aragorn called out Faramir’s name and then climaxed, falling back onto the cushions breathless and thoroughly contented.

As soon as Faramir felt Aragorn tense, he sealed his lips around his shaft. As the hot jet of his beloved’s release spilled into his mouth, Faramir climaxed with a muffled groan. Light-headed with his own orgasm, the young man swallowed the faintly bitter but altogether pleasing liquid, attempting to coax every drop from Aragorn’s spent penis. A few drops of seed had escaped Faramir’s lips, however, and he gathered the errant drops on his fingers and licked them clean before moving up to lie beside Aragorn.

“I love you.” Faramir whispered covering Aragorn’s shoulder with kisses.

“I love you, too.” Aragorn replied. Then he turned so that he was braced above Faramir looking down on the younger man. “I think, though, that now it is time for me to taste you, kitten.” So saying, Aragorn moved down to Faramir’s belly where his own release had spilled and proceeded to clean the flat surface of Faramir’s stomach with long strokes of his tongue. Faramir sighed, happily at the sensation feeling as satisfied as though he were indeed a cat who had gotten into the cream.

A short while later, Faramir lay curled in Aragorn’s arm. He had been thinking of Halbarad and of Boromir. Faramir had spoken of his brother often. He had wanted to share Boromir, who was so very important to him, with Aragorn. Now Faramir found himself growing increasingly curious about the details of Aragorn’s own family. He had been on the verge of asking several times but always something seemed to intervene before he could formulate a question. The appearance of Halbarad had reminded Faramir that he was woefully ignorant about the people that were important to Aragorn.

“You said Halbarad was your kinsmen, are you close kin?” Faramir asked turning in Aragorn’s arms so that he could face the man.

“He is the closest kin I have living. He is my second-cousin, though he is as a brother to me.” Aragorn answered drawing `harma’, a quendi letter that also meant `treasure’ on Faramir’s shoulder with one finger.

“I am grieved you have no close living relatives.” Faramir whispered. He could not help but feel the loss of his mother had damaged his family in ways beyond his ability to understand. He had little memory of his mother but Boromir told him often that she had lived for her children. Sometimes Faramir suspected, though, that Boromir did not remember their mother very well either but told stories he thought would encourage his younger brother. Faramir was never sure.

“My father died before I was old enough to know him. My mother lived to see me grow to manhood, though in all the time I knew her there was never joy in her heart.” Speaking of his mother always saddened Aragorn so he altered the conversation a little. “After my father’s death I was sheltered by the elves of Rivendell. I grew up calling Lord Elrond’s sons my brothers.”

Faramir’s eyes widened appreciably at this information and he exclaimed: “It is like a fairytale.” Aragorn chuckled and told Faramir a little of his life in Rivendell. The younger man was enchanted but something puzzled him in Aragorn’s accounts and finally he was able to identify it.

“You speak of teachers, tutors and mentors but had you no playmates?” Faramir hoped he was not being presumptuous but the first image that had come into his head when Aragorn spoke of being raised among the Rivendell elves was of a beautiful dark haired child throwing a snowball at a fair-haired companion and laughing as he ducked behind a tree to avoid retaliation.

“There have been no elflings for many years.” Aragorn responded with a gentle smile. “Elrond thought it best to keep my heritage as close a secret as possible. I was not told whose son I was until I was twenty and no dunadan, man or boy was allowed near me.”

The image in Faramir’s mind abruptly shifted and now the beautiful dark-haired child walked alone and unsmiling through the cold of a snowy forest. Faramir felt the profound loneliness of such a child and he had to turn his head lest Aragorn sense something of his thoughts.

“Are you imagining something tragic, my love?” Aragorn inquired, kissing Faramir’s hair. “Pray, do not. If I lacked for playmates I did not want for kindness. Besides, no matter their age elves always retain something childlike; only do not say so to my brothers or they will sulk.”

Faramir managed a smile at this and Aragorn kissed him. The kiss began with tenderness but grew increasingly impassioned. Faramir twisted until he was fully beneath Aragorn, then he wrapped his legs about the older man. Aragorn grunted as Faramir’s wriggling fanned the flames of his renewed arousal. Breaking the kiss, the ranger looked down and saw the eager expectation on Faramir’s face.

“May I make love to you, my Faramir?”

“Yes, always yes.” Faramir answered with no hesitation. “I love you. I love the way you make me feel and I love myself when you love me.” The younger man seemed to glow with happiness. He wanted- needed to be with Aragorn forever. Faramir did not know how he would bear their parting. He did not doubt that destiny was at hand. These were the last days of the third age and the fourth age would begin with the renewal of the land, a bright hope for the future and the king’s return to his people. All this would happen and soon but how could Faramir endure the waiting?

“Ah Faramir, Faramir.” Aragorn could not find words for what the younger man made him feel. He did not dare try for fear of invoking ancient and dangerous magic.

Aragorn quickly retrieved the salve he had used the day before and gently urged Faramir over onto his stomach. The younger man lay on his belly, opening his legs and giving Aragorn such a look of love and trust that Aragorn’s mouth went dry. Faramir was more relaxed than yesterday and was able to remain relatively still with only the occasional shiver. He accepted Aragorn’s fingers readily, relaxing into the intrusion and sighing into his folded arms.

Sweat dripped from Aragorn’s brow with the effort of self-restraint as much as from excitement. Faramir was taking three of his fingers and the man was deliberately clenching his muscles around them trying to hold them in. It was driving Aragorn mad with lust. Removing his fingers from the tight heat of Faramir’s body Aragorn gripped the younger man’s hips lifting him up onto his hands and knees. Eagerly Faramir took up the new position.

“Ready?” Aragorn questioned, grinding against Faramir’s backside and eliciting a needy whimper from the younger man.

“Yes!” Quickly Aragorn slathered oil over his erection then pushed inside Faramir. Moaning as the slender body opened to him, Aragorn held Faramir’s hips tightly and waited.

Dropping down onto his elbows, Faramir surrendered to the exquisite pleasure. As the intensity of feeling diminished slightly, Aragorn began to move. Faramir found that Aragorn could move into him with greater strength in this position and the younger man thrilled to the deep thrusts, pushing his hips back to meet Aragorn. He heard Aragorn groan behind him and the sound made him push back even harder. He wanted to be claimed with all the power within his beloved lord even if the claiming left him wounded. Faramir didn’t know what it was inside himself that made him tremble with pleasure but as Aragorn angled himself to graze that place with each vigorous thrust Faramir knew he would not last long.

Aragorn was biting his lip hard. Faramir was a vice of heat. The temptation to abandon himself to the simple need to possess, the desire to dominate was eating away at his self-control. Unbelievably, Faramir’s body seemed to tighten around him even further and with another heartfelt groan Aragorn took Faramir’s leaking erection into his fist. Faramir could not withstand so much and crying Aragorn’s name, he spent himself. Rapping his arms around Faramir’s waist Aragorn supported him for the space of a few final thrusts before orgasm took him and he lowered Faramir gently to the ground then rolled heavily onto his back. Starry-eyed Faramir still managed to curl tightly into Aragorn’s side draping an arm over his chest as their heavy breathes mingled.

Having woken first, it was now Aragorn’s opportunity to observe Faramir in sleep. The young man was classically beautiful. His face could have served as a model for a young god of music or poetry. He seemed somehow more remote, though, in sleep. Aragorn loved to watch curiosity play over his beloved’s features. He liked to watch creativity sparkle in his eyes and see the love shine from his features. Even the little frown of worry that Faramir often wore could be charming, assuming Aragorn always had the power to banish it. More time than he had realized had passed in contemplation of his lover and Aragorn suddenly becoming aware of himself, quickly rose and dressed.

He had just finished putting on his boots when Faramir, naked and with his hair mussed from sleep, came and put his arms about his waist. “Good morning.” Aragorn greeted returning the hug.

“Good morning.” Faramir replied. “Are you going so soon? I should not have slept so late.”

“That seems to be a habit of Khandrim nobility. In courtesy you should imitate their custom.” Aragorn joked but then said seriously: “I would not have left without waking you, but I think you have cause enough to be a little weary.”

“I have less cause than you. And you will fight this morning whereas I will only talk.” Faramir answered, giving Aragorn a final squeeze before finally letting him go. The younger man was sorry to lose any time with the ranger even to sleep.

“I still contend that mine is the easier task. Besides despite my earlier start I hope to return by noon whereas you, my love, will have a much longer day. I will check on Halbarad and then I must be off.” Aragorn kissed Faramir before leaving and the younger man was on the point of following just to keep the ranger in his eye a few moments longer but then he recalled he had not yet dressed. Blushing, faintly, Faramir went in search of his trousers.

After Aragorn had left, Faramir quickly washed and dressed. The meetings did not resume for several hours but the captain had several things he wished to accomplish before he started making proposals to the Khandrim. Leaving his tent, Faramir ate breakfast at the cook’s pavilion, making light conversation with the men who had also gathered there for their morning meal.

Seeing Gidel, however, Faramir bid his companions good day and signaled the lieutenant to join him a little away from the others. After an exchange of greetings, Faramir announced that he wanted to see both Gidel and Flyn at their earliest convenience. This prosaic summons had a most disconcerting affect upon Gidel. There was a moment’s silence then the man seemed to pull himself together as he attempted something like his usual businesslike tone. “Yes, sir. Unfortunately, Lieutenant Flyn is not in camp at present.”

“Where is he?” Faramir asked after a brief pause to make sure there was no additional information voluntarily forthcoming.

“At the gathering, sir.”

“He is not on leave, is he?” Faramir put the comment in the form of a question but he had looked at the schedule just last night and he remembered clearly the times when he would be without either lieutenant.

“Not as such, no sir.”

“Why isn’t he here then?” Faramir was growing annoyed. He didn’t like having to act like an interrogator with someone whose purpose was to keep him informed.

“He went to oversee some of the lads, sir. He… he said that he took it very much to heart, sir, what you said about us representing Gondor and… and he said he wanted to make sure that everything was all right, that everyone was behaving themselves, sir.”

Faramir thought about this a moment and decided it didn’t sound very much like Flyn. It was clearly time for the captain to have a talk with his lieutenant. Faramir did not look forward to the prospect but it needed to be done. Flyn needed more supervision than Faramir had been giving him. Faramir could not entirely suppress a tiny feeling of personal betrayal. He did not begrudge Flyn a few hours of free time. If he had been asked he would have consented but Faramir couldn’t allow his men to come and go as they pleased.

“When do you anticipate his return?”

“I couldn’t say, sir?”

“Very well.” Faramir sighed, quickly adjusting his plans to this contingency. “Listen, lieutenant. I have heard from a very reliable source, that there is a large troop of Variag warriors not far east of the gathering. As soon as lieutenant Flyn returns, I would like him to take several men and investigate. He it to be careful not to be seen, but I would like as much information as he can gather. All right?” Faramir had considered giving the mission to Gidel but while Flyn was certainly moody and inclined to a certain laziness, he was able to think fast on his feet and he was undeniably sneaky. Gidel was stolid and dependable. The sort of man Faramir felt he could depend upon to command the camp in his absence.

“Yes, sir.”

“Lieutenant.”

“Sir?”

“In future neither you nor lieutenant Flyn are to leave this camp without my express permission. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

Halbarad sat playing cards with a few of the Gondorhim soldiers. He had let it be known without saying specifically that he was a former travelling companion of Strider’s. The two old friends had met by chance at the gathering and with Captain Faramir’s permission Strider had offered his fellow ranger hospitality. Halbarad also allowed the men to infer that Strider had found him somewhat down on his luck and in rather urgent need of a meal. It was not far from the truth after all. The Gondorhim tended to be polite and the advantage was that Halbarad would not have to answer too many question if it was thought these questions would embarrass him.

It had not been easy for Halbarad to watch Aragorn go off alone to the tournament earlier that morning. He knew his chieftain exposed himself to greater perils all the time but that was somehow different than actually having to see it happen. Halbarad consoled himself, though, with the thought that the tournament was not truly dangerous and that while Aragorn fought he could make himself useful having a few amiable chats with the Gondorhim. It was a matter of great interest to Halbarad what Faramir’s men thought of their commander and he intended to learn all he could.

It was not that Halbarad distrusted Faramir. From what little he had seen he was inclined to think well of the young man. Still, Faramir was important to Aragorn and that meant Halbarad would not be satisfied until he knew a great deal more about the Steward’s younger son. Nothing, Halbarad had heard so far gave him any cause for distress. In general, Faramir was well-liked. His men thought him fair and consistent which was remarkable in one so young. He had a good reputation in Ithilien but none of the men with him had seen him command a battle and that was always the important test for any commander

It was upon the point of battle command that there was some minor disagreement between the younger men and the veterans. The younger men believed that in any battle situation they would much prefer to be led by Lord Boromir. The veterans while not disputing the great Lord Boromir’s prowess insisted that there was something to be said for the more thoughtful generals. “You don’t see the quiet ones coming but then their like machines, grinding the enemy into dust. That’s how I think it would be with our captain.” This comment was quickly answered by a man on the opposite side of the question and Halbarad studied his cards and listened.

Suddenly one of the men asked loudly when the watch would change and this new topic was taken up so quickly and so universally that Halbarad knew without looking that Faramir was approaching. He was proven correct the next moment as the men called out courteous greetings to their commander. Faramir responded in like fashion before asking if Halbarad would speak with him. Surprised but not displeased Halbarad revealed his cards to the other players. “Your luck, lads.” Relieved grins were exchanged among the other players. The game had not been for money. The Stewards had consistently frowned upon gambling but the practice could not be eradicated entirely especially from the army and the game had been for points. These points were a matter of great pride and importance to the Gondorhim soldiers and everyone was genuinely pleased Halbarad had not had the chance to play out his hand.

“May I be of some service to you, Captain?” Halbarad inquired after following Faramir from the card game.

“I would beg a favor of you, if I may.” Faramir felt nervous. He wanted Halbarad to like him and he was not sure asking the man for help was the best way to accomplish that. Still, Halbarad was best qualified for the task Faramir had in mind and he hoped Halbarad would see the merit in the idea.

“I would readily do you any service. However, should this favor require too much exertion then I am duty-bound to refuse. I have been given the strictest orders to imitate an invalid. Until the order is removed, it may be that I will not be able to help you.” Halbarad smiled to show that while he meant to obey Aragorn’s repeated command that he `rest’ he did, at least, have a sense of humor about his enforced inactivity.

Faramir smiled in response though a bit timidly. “Well you shall be the best judge of whether this task will interfere with your orders.” Faramir then proceeded to tell Halbarad what was wanted. After Faramir had thoroughly explained the details, Halbarad took the commission gladly. He could not help but feel that Faramir had been very considerate and he was happy to be included.

“I am very grateful for your assistance. I will speak to the quartermaster then I must prepare for the meeting. Do you think it will take you long?”

“I doubt it. I hope to be back before my lord, for I think that would be best.” Halbarad replied.

“Yes, I think so, too. Thank you, very much.” Halbarad nodded in response and headed out toward the gathering.

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