Faramir Fiction Archive

For your sake Badur (NC-17)

Written by Nerey Camille

20 February 2013 | 19253 words

Chapter 3. The Land of Light

He saw a desert country under the midday flaming sun, and in front of him a mass of greenery, encircled by a tall wall of immaculate white. Two warriors guarded the gate, tall and fair; it was not until Faramir was right before them that he understood, from the smoothness of their features, that they were women.

And no great wonder was that, for had he not come into the country that was ruled by valorous females?

He hesitated for a moment about the proper way to address them, then dismounted and asked them courteously, in the Common Speech:

“I seek the house of the Lady Jahel, O guards. Can you tell me where it lies?”

“It is at the center of the oasis, O stranger,” one of them answered equally courteously. “You may enter.”

He nodded in thanks and led his mount through the open gate. Within, there was an explosion of life: tall trees in full blossom, under whose shadow one could rest from the deadly sun; bushes full of colourful flowers whose scent filled the air and made dizzy those unaccustomed to it; bees, dragonflies and birds flying everywhere, small insects scurrying along the branches, or over the ground. A little to the right there was a large pond, where some travellers were watering their horses; next to it, others refreshed themselves with clear water from a well.

Faramir buried his face in the folds of his Haradrim turban, to withhold his Gondorian features from the travellers’ sight. The fewer people knew about his presence here, the better. Therefore he only stopped briefly to allow his horse a deep draught from the pond, and proceeded to the core of the oasis, where he had glimpsed another snowy wall.

This one was of lesser height than its outer counterpart, but still it shielded from sight the house that must be beyond. A gracefully ornamented arch cleaved it, beside which he beheld two women. One was obviously a guard, clad more elegantly in white than those of the outer wall, though still in full armour. The other was talking to her; she was draped in fine veils of vivid colours that barely covered her body and did nothing to conceal her figure. She turned to look at Faramir as he approached, and he halted his steps, instantly and unexpectedly conquered.

She must be his own age, but as different from him as lush summer from sleeping winter. Tall and slender, stronger yet more graceful than Gondorian women, she bore herself with a confidence that was unknown to him. Her features, overshadowed by a curtain of black hair, were darker and finer than most he had beheld, and a fountain of mirth seemed to be constantly pouring out of them. Even as her gaze fell upon him laughter rippled on her lips, as well as in her coal eyes, and Faramir suddenly understood where her conspicuous strength came from: she, unlike him or anyone he knew, had basked in love and happiness her entire life.

Her eyes were questioning, and Faramir realized simultaneously that he had been smiling for the last few seconds, and that she must expect him to speak. Quickly recovering, he bowed to her.

“I am Faramir, son of Denethor of Gondor. I am looking for the Lady Jahel,” he said politely.

The girl smiled at him, probably amused by his strange air, and gestured gracefully.

“My sister is inside. Please come in, O noble stranger.”

Still dazed, Faramir followed her through the arch and into a beautifully arranged garden, along a path that led directly to a large house. He barely noticed the white, smooth walls and the flat roof over the only floor of the house. Following his guide he passed through the open door into a large, shadowy room cooled by a fountain. The girl then sank into a profound bow, touching her brow with her hand and speaking to a woman who was sitting on comfortable cushions and reading a book.

“Madam, here is a stranger who wishes to see you.”

“Thank you, young one.”

The Lady Jahel had a grave, deep voice that spoke of dignity and courage. Faramir advanced and saw a beautiful woman of about forty, who had more authority than many a man he had seen. Jahel rose to welcome him, while her younger sister stood by, and Faramir barely managed to say the words of greeting he had prepared.

He was gazing in wonder at the two women before him, fully realizing for the first time that Harad was ruled by females. For all his knowing of the fact beforehand, it had not sunk in till now. But these women held an inner power that had nothing to do with rank, wealth or even personal charisma. He could not place exactly what it was, but there it was, staring him in the face. And Faramir blushed, for Jahel had been speaking to him and he had paid no attention.

“I hope that aside from discussing matters of state, you will find time for knowing our culture and spending a good time here. Badur will be only too glad of helping you in this, I am sure.”

Faramir caught the glance of sheer love Jahel gave to her sister, and fleetingly thought that whoever dared harm the girl would have a fierce and deadly enemy. But most of his mind was occupied by the discovery that Badur was the loveliest name he had ever heard.

Later, after a male servant had shown him his quarters, when he had taken a bath and refreshed himself from his journey, he went out into the garden. Badur was waiting there, stretched out on a stone bench, in a lazy (and unbelievably charming) posture that no lady of Gondor would have allowed herself. An open book lay on the earth near her, but Faramir guessed it had been taken more out of pretence than a real intention to read. She sprang to her feet as he approached her.

“Here you are at last,” she said. “I wanted to talk to you when you were in the bath, but Jahel said that would distress you. Is it true?”

“Yes, it is,” he said after nearly choking with surprise. “In Gondor a respectable woman should not see a man without clothes, nor the reverse, unless they are married. I have heard many things are different here, but that would have come as a big surprise.”

Her perplexed face told clearly what she thought of such a ridiculous Gondorian custom, but she had the courtesy not to comment on it.

“It is good I didn’t do it, then,” she said simply. “Just tell me if anything embarrasses you. It seems we have very different customs and I know very little of Gondor. There’s a chance we’ll have to learn many things if we are to spend time comfortably together.”

“I will tell you,” he said, grinning now. “So, what do you wish to do?”

“It is for the guest to declare his wishes, but maybe I should tell you what we can do. We can go fishing in the river, or hunting in the desert. We can go to the bazaar in town. We can walk or ride across the country. We can stay at home and talk, read, play games, or listen to music and see dances. There are other activities, as well, but they require being naked, so we’d better leave them out for the time being.”

There was no hint of mockery in her voice and Faramir wondered what those other activities might be, but he dared not ask. Why was it with this girl he had the impression of being very timid, strait-laced and ignorant?

“I’ve heard there are very good horses in your country,” he said after a pause. “I’d love to mount one of them. Would you mind that?”

“I thought you had already travelled enough today! But it is fine with me. I will not race you this afternoon, it would not be fair, but at least you can see what our horses are like.”

“I think I am still rested enough to race you,” he countered, barely avoiding “to race a woman.” He understood this would be seen as very offensive, but it was hard to let go of the habits of a whole life.

He shouldn’t have talked. Badur saddled two horses, let him choose one, and charged the other with handicap loads so that it carried more weight than Faramir’s. But he had no chance to win; she beat him hands down, racing far ahead until he could stand no more and stopped, exhausted. She cantered back, fresh and full of energy. Her face changed when she saw Faramir’s.

“Oh, damn,” she said. “Here, take this.” She gave him some water. “I shouldn’t have done it. I knew it wasn’t fair. A host should not show off in front of their guest. Forgive me.”

“Do not worry, Badur. It serves me right for defying you.”

“You didn’t believe a woman could beat you, did you?” she asked in a low voice. “My sister told me Gondorian men consider women to be incapable of most things.”

“I can’t deny it, even if I can’t approve of it any longer. Forgive me to have thought so poorly of you, Badur. I well see how unjust it is, but I can’t help it, I’ve been raised so. But I wish to learn better. And I will. It just hurt a bit to be beaten so clearly, especially with your extra load, but I think I can overcome it.”

“But the outcome was obvious. To say nothing of your weariness, I know the horses, I know the terrain, and from what I’ve heard we Haradrim are better riders than Gondorians. A bit of load is nothing when you know how to stimulate your horse.”

Faramir had not thought of that, and so he cheered up and they rode back talking amiably. As they dismounted to lead the horses into the stables and Badur showed him how to take care of them, Faramir admired again the strong grace of the girl’s movements.

“From the way you look at me, one would say you were hypnotized,” she laughed.

“Hypnotized? I’ve never heard that word,” he said, curiosity overcoming his embarrassment at her remark.

“Haven’t you? We have some people here that can charm snakes, so that they follow them everywhere, always staring at them fixedly and doing whatever they are ordered to. We say that these people hypnotize snakes.”

“That is hardly a flattering comparison, but it strikes me as rather accurate,” he replied, smiling uneasily. “I have never seen anyone like you before. I am used to observing tirelessly everything that fascinates me. It is often the best way to understand and learn from things.”

“Then by all means keep observing me,” she said, laughing again. “But if there is aught you cannot understand, you can always ask.”

“I shall.”

They dined together with Jahel in the main room. The food, though strange to Faramir’s palate, was good, varied and abundant. Conversation was light and merry; both Badur and her sister asked Faramir many things about his home, and told him about customs and peoples in Harad. Faramir enjoyed himself intensely, soon feeling more welcome and at ease than in his own home in Minas Tirith.

Later, lying awake on his bed and staring out of the window at the deeply blue, star-webbed sky, he thought he had never felt such blissful happiness before. And he suddenly understood what had so intrigued him about the two sisters. It was the way they moved. Their demeanour had an unmistakable air of freedom and insouciance that was… well, boyish. That was what made them so different from any other women that Faramir had known; but strange as such a trait might appear to him, he had to admit it suited both of them well.

And so days went by, each leaving Faramir more profoundly marked by bliss and wonder. Badur was a cheerful, knowledgeable, enthralling companion, and each hour they spent together brought them closer to each other. One evening, the seventh since Faramir had arrived, they found themselves after sunset on the roof of the house, watching the first stars appearing.

“I have been feeling restless all afternoon,” said Faramir. “I feel that I want something; the desire for it is so acute, and yet I do not know exactly what I am yearning for. Except it has to do with you.”

That last sentence, that he thought he would need all his courage to utter, was so easy to come out of his lips.

Badur looked at him kindly.

“I think I know what it is you want. It is so charming that you don’t, though,” she answered, and for the first time ever since Faramir knew her, her voice trembled a little.

“These last days have been like a dream,” continued Faramir, looking away into the western sky. “I never thought someone like you could exist. You are learned about so many things: horses, politics, hunting and fighting, art, poetry… and you are so young! I admire you… and yet, none of that is what has struck me hardest in you. This yearning I cannot define, it is born of your personality, your confidence, your laugh, your allure. Whenever I am near you I feel very warm, in a dizzying sort of way, and very vulnerable, and very sensitive. I often feel uncomfortable and hurt and yet I am happier than I have ever been before. Being next to you is a mixture of pain and pleasure, but I would not be parted from you.”

He wasn’t looking at Badur, so he didn’t see the intense emotion that spread over her features. Her voice was quite steady.

“Is that the desire you were talking about? Not to be parted from me?”

“No,” said Faramir. “The longing I speak of began days ago, on my third night here. Do you remember? We had gone to town with the Lady Jahel. We met the other clan chiefs and summoned them to the conclave in the oasis, and afterwards you showed me through the town. It was so hot, and you wanted to swim, and so did I, so we took our clothes off and plunged into the river. At that moment you were only a friend to me, even as a boy, and I was just playing with you, as we raced and splashed each other… But that night, I couldn’t sleep because of the memory of it. I couldn’t forget your body, and I was filled with a strange fever… and since then, every time you are standing close by, looking at me, or just barely touching me… I feel as if something is slowly burning inside me. And I so strongly want to… I don’t know!”

He became flustered, he blushed, stammered, and fell silent. Finally he looked at her; she was gazing at her hands folded upon the parapet.

“Don’t you?” she asked very softly. “Or are you afraid of acknowledging it?”

“I want to touch you, to hold you, to be closer to you in some way I cannot fathom. You told me that in Harad men and women could have pleasure with each other, do the things that people in Gondor do with their spouses. That thought has also been haunting me. I do not know if that is what I wish; but if so, is it what you wish?”

He looked at her again, and was surprised to see that she had closed her eyes, thrown her head back; her lips were parted, and she was sighing softly. The ache to be closer to her gripped him, stronger than ever; but then he thought she might not be feeling well.

“Badur? Are you alright?”

She nodded, without opening her eyes.

“I have desired you more strongly with every day that passed,” she murmured, “and I have watched your longing grow, until it was torturing both of us with its deliciousness. I did not want to frighten you, but never before have I waited so long for a man, and I was reaching my limits. I am so glad you told me about how you felt.”

She looked at him, and Faramir thought it was impossible to stand such a gaze, so sweet and ardent it was; but instead he found he couldn’t tear his eyes away. Once again, the urge to do something overwhelmed him and he swore mentally, because he didn’t know what to do. But Badur knew.

She extended her right hand and slowly stroked his face and jaw, then her fingers brushed softly against Faramir’s lips that parted in a moan. Then her hand went all the way down to his shoulder, and gradually, very gradually, she drew her arms around his torso. Faramir hesitated before hugging her, but once he started, he couldn’t stop. And when she rubbed his back, his hands started roaming hers, tenderly and deliriously; when her lips softly kissed his neck, then his jaw, then his mouth, he thought he would faint; the feeling of her tongue inside his mouth was like the perfect incarnation of paradise and eternal bliss that did not wane; he lost track of time and wished he could stand forever in that position. When Badur drew back and gestured toward a mattress, he followed eagerly and unconsciously; who knew if she had put it there on purpose, though Badur liked to have mattresses everywhere just to lie in the sun. Anyway, it was handy; and then she started pulling their clothes off, and their bodies entwined in ways he would never have thought possible, until he could no longer tell where hers finished and his began.

“I can understand why in Gondor people who will do this with each other are meant to stay together for life,” said Faramir in a hushed voice as the sun rose over their naked bodies. “It is so beautiful and intense I have no words for it.”

Badur laughed merrily.

“What we did is not what people marry for. That was just cuddling and exploring. We have not mated yet.”

Faramir did not answer at once. He did know vaguely about what being husband and wife involved, and that it had to do with producing heirs, but that knowledge had been gained through unofficial sources, such as half-understood jokes, boasts and whispered confidences among young soldiers. He didn’t know how much of it he could trust to be true and he didn’t want to make a fool of himself in front of Badur, not yet again. Besides, there were more important questions to ask.

“What do you mean by ‘yet’?”

“Well, I do hope it will happen before you go,” she said, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “As you know, here in Harad you do not need to marry me for that.” She stretched herself. “I could have done it last night though, I really feel like it. Ah well…”

“We can do it then,” said Faramir. She had given him so much, he wanted her to get whatever she would like in return.

“Nay, it is your first time, I want you to enjoy it thoroughly. You have such a capacity for feeling and appreciating what you are about to discover, it would be unforgivable of me to rush you through it.”

He nodded, not knowing the full meaning of her words, but understanding the kindness and the affection that lay in them. She kissed him lazily.

“You seem thoughtful.”

“What would happen if you had a child? Without us being married?”

“You are thoughtful,” she laughed, but her eyes shone. “Well, there are precautions that can be taken, so that usually a pregnancy can be avoided. I have been mating for years and have never had a baby yet. Still, there is always the risk, so I asked Jahel what would happen if I had offspring by you. It is no great problem to raise a child here, and I don’t mind pregnancy as long as it comes once in a while and not every year; but you being a ruler’s son in a country with different customs, I didn’t know what that would imply. So, if it was a girl, she would remain here, to be raised as my heir; if it was a boy, it would be up to you, to take him to Gondor or to leave him here with us. In any case, the child would grow in honour and love in this house, and you could visit whenever you wanted.”

“Thank you,” was the only thing that Faramir could say. He still had to get used to the fact that everything connected with bodies, that in Gondor was awkward and fraught with dangers, was easy and provided for by law and customs here.

Days passed swiftly, filled with exhausting but enjoyable exercise, as Badur taught Faramir Haradrim ways to fight and ride. Evenings were devoted to another kind of lessons that made both of them ecstatically happy. As Badur had foreseen, it took several sleepless nights for Faramir’s wonder to subside and for him to get used enough to the new sensations to start feeling fresh urges. Then she showed him many ways to enjoy intercourse while avoiding pregnancy, like forgoing the most natural penetration and, to put it bluntly, get the cock into the arse instead (something that also served for sex between men); or to satisfy each other just through touch and mouth, or to wait for certain days of the month, or to draw back at the last moment, although these two, she told him, were not always entirely reliable. Also a man could learn to climax without spilling his seed. Faramir listened, and learned, and each night made him more confident and passionate, until Badur, who had found him maddeningly careful at first, was fully sated by his reckless ardour, and their lovemaking resembled mating between young lions, joyful and wild and strong, and it left marks on their bodies that made them both laugh afterwards. And Faramir’s soul stepped out into the sun where Badur’s was waiting, and they met and their meeting was like the binding of two stars.

But regardless of what was happening between them, the world outside still grew older, and so the day came when all the clan chiefs who were friends of Jahel met secretly in the oasis, and talked about what they were doing against the threat of Sauron, and promised to give Faramir what useful information they could gather about the Enemy’s movements and his plans. Then there were a few more days to spend with Badur while the chieftains went back to their respective fiefs and collected reports; but when all the messages were sent and received at Jahel’s oasis, it was time for Faramir to go.

Farewells between him and Badur were short and uttered with a friendly smile; none but them knew what tears and grief had suffused their last night of love. And Faramir went back to Gondor, and kept the memory of his time in Harad as a precious fire to warm his heart in times of darkness. And now, even as he recalled the white house and the sound of the fountains and Badur’s smile as she lay lazily in the sun, blithe from lovemaking, a dreadful longing seized him to be back in Harad. But he understood that, had the land remained the place of love and freedom it was when he went there, Badur would never had fled to Gondor. The way to happiness, if it still existed, lay in front of him, across the shadow of the Nameless Land; and with a sigh Faramir turned his mind from the past and focused it on the problem at hand.

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