Faramir Fiction Archive

Ghost (NC-17)

Written by Anorienbean

04 January 2006 | 3977 words

Characters: Haldir/Faramir, mention of Faramir/Boromir, Boromir/Aragorn
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: No money was made from this, and this in no way is meant to imply anything about the sexual preferences or practices of anyone mentioned within.

Author's Notes: No clue where this came from. Sad, kind of angsty, I suppose. Not beta'd due to time constraints, but I'll try and do it later. Written for Slash Me Twice; Prompt: 064. Ghost

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Faramir moaned as his brother’s length pierced him again, slow and deep, hitting his prostate squarely with each inward thrust. He loved being taken like this, wrapped in the safety of loving arms as Boromir moved within him, whispering softly against Faramir’s ear and letting his hands trail over his skin. When their father was angry, or when Faramir was tired or sad or lonely, he would run to his brother, even now, when he was entirely too old to be afraid of being alone, or need the comfort of sweet endearments to soothe away the pain of Denethor’s words or his own dark musings. While Faramir knew what they shared was wrong, he found himself drawn to his brother, unable to resist his kisses or the safety he found only in Boromir’s arms.

When Boromir’s release spilled deep inside him, Faramir came as well, spilling over his brother’s fingers and arching back against him as he bit back his cries. “I love you, Boromir,” he whispered as his body trembled in the aftermath of his orgasm.

“I love you too, little one,” Boromir breathed, already feeling the guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders for being with his brother like this. Faramir deserved happiness, he deserved to *not* have to sneak around in the dead of night and have to bite back his cries as he came, always afraid one of the servants would hear, and know what they were doing.

They clung to each other for a few perfect moments, and Faramir drifted off to sleep almost immediately. When Boromir gently shook him awake and told him it was time to leave and return to his room, Faramir sighed and nodded. The darkness was heavy around them and the halls were deserted, yet Faramir couldn't help but look over his shoulder and around each corner before moving forward again. He moved quietly down the hallways and eased the door to his room closed behind him, wishing that just once, they could stay together and wake in each other’s arms. But, as always, despite Faramir's pleas, Boromir had placed a gentle kiss to his forehead and begged him to move silently, but quickly, so as not be seen by prying eyes.

As the years passed, Faramir and Boromir were often parted, yet it seemed that they Faramir could never get enough of his brother. Each time the opportunity presented itself, Faramir would sneak into Boromir’s room, or send him a note asking Boromir to meet him in the seldom used gardens that lined the east walls of Gondor, or in the forest under the cover of a tent, surrounded by their men, but lost in their own world.

The night Faramir dreamed of Boromir’s lifeless body moving away from him, drifting aimlessly downstream, he awoke with tears on his face and his heart breaking with sorrow. He knew his brother was dead, and they would never see each other again. That day, Faramir vowed that would never love again.

The months continued to pass, and though Faramir had sworn he could not live without his brother, he did just that. Minas Tirith had a king now, and Faramir was the steward of the city. His duties kept him occupied, if not entertained, and more than once, the king offered to let Faramir take some time to gather his thoughts, to travel and relax, now that the threat of the dark lord was no longer a concern. Each time, Faramir declined, preferring to lose himself in his work inasmuch as possible. He slept little, always dreaming of his brother and the love they shared, and waking lonely and tearful, unwilling to face another day, but having little choice.

The day Aragorn announced they were to have visitors, Faramir had simply nodded and returned to his rooms for something more formal to wear. He chose a dark blue velvet cloak that made his eyes seem even deeper and heartbreakingly clearer. As he made his way back to the main hall, he was surprised to see three blond Elves talking quietly with the king just outside the door. The tallest of the Elves turned and smiled at him, and Faramir felt something in his stomach tie into a knot. It was the feeling he used to have when Boromir looked at him knowingly, his sparkling green eyes shining with mischief and making Faramir hard and aching almost at once.

Quickly, Faramir looked away and made his way to the dining room. He did not have time for lingering smiles or foolish small talk. His life was devoted to his work and his king, and there was no room for anything or anyone else.

As he sat down at the table next to Aragorn, Faramir was slightly taken aback as the king motioned the Elves to be seated at his table as well. The tall blond Elf who had smiled at him earlier quickly made his way to the empty chair next to Faramir and sat down. Faramir stared steadily down at his hands, not even bothering to attempt a conversation. Jumping slightly when a long, cool hand touched his shoulder, he looked up into the bluest eyes he’d ever seen and saw that the Elf was speaking to him. “My name is Haldir,” the Elf said softly. “The king has told us much about you…Faramir. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

In truth, it was more than a pleasure. Haldir’s heart was pounding in his chest as the steward turned and met his gaze, and he thought that he had never in all his life seen anyone as beautiful. The young man, however, simply nodded and looked toward the king. “May I be excused?” Faramir asked quietly. “I do not feel well, and would like to go lie down for a while.”

Aragorn bit back a sigh and nodded. He’d hoped his withdrawn young steward would at least try and be friends to their guests, but it was more than clear that he’d been wrong. The eldest of the Elves, Haldir, whom Aragorn had met before and respected greatly, was obviously interested in Faramir, yet Faramir seemed to either not notice that little fact, or to simply not care. //You have to get over the loss of your brother, my friend. You cannot go on this way.//

Haldir looked down at his plate and tried not to let his disappointment show. His attraction to the young man had been immediate and incredibly powerful, yet Faramir seemed to not even notice Haldir was alive. When he finally looked up at the king, Aragorn mouthed “don’t give up on him,” and Haldir had hung his head and tried to cover his embarrassment for being so transparent.

Each day, Haldir tried to engage Faramir in conversation, but the steward continued to avoid him whenever possible. The Elf was lovely, Faramir could not deny that, but his heart belonged to Boromir, and there was no room for anyone else, no matter how beautiful he was.

Despite Aragorn’s assurances that he shouldn’t give up, Haldir began losing hope after a few weeks. When a month had passed, and Faramir had barely spoken a word to him, Haldir decided that he could no longer stand to be rejected and should simply give up. He and his brothers met with Aragorn for the entire day, and when they were finished, during the time he would normally seek Faramir’s company, Haldir simply returned to his room and sat quietly before the fireplace, staring into the flames, wishing he’d known what he’d done wrong in his pursuit of the steward.

Aragorn watched as Haldir dejectedly walked away from their meeting, and felt angry at Faramir for the first time since they’d known each other. He found his steward in Boromir’s bedroom, curled up on the bed, eyes red and swollen, face damp with tears. “This has gone on long enough,” Aragorn said as he entered the room and moved to sit on the bed beside Faramir. “I realize you miss your brother. I miss him as well, but he would want you to be happy, Faramir. You know he would.”

Faramir sat up and stared dully at Aragorn. “You don’t understand,” he whispered. “Boromir was…more than my brother. He was…he was my lover as well.”

Aragorn placed his hand on Faramir’s shoulder. “I know,” he said softly. “He told me. When we were in Lothlorien, he told me that he loved you beyond all measure, but that he knew what was happening between the two of you was wrong. He felt guilty…as if he were denying you the happiness you deserved.”

Faramir was shaking his head before the last words left Aragorn’s lips. “He denied me nothing,” he protested. “He gave me his heart and his love, and I was only happy when I was with him.”

“When you were slipping around in the dark, trying to return to your room unnoticed?” Aragorn said not unkindly. “When you had to share nothing more than brotherly hugs in public, and had to lie more than once when someone tried to court you? They all knew, Faramir. The servants, the council, your men…they knew about you and Boromir. They did not begrudge you your happiness, but…but when Boromir was on patrol, they knew he felt bound to you, and would not let himself find pleasure with another.”

”That’s….that’s the way it should be,” Faramir said, swallowing the lump in his throat. “We were in love.”

”No,” Aragorn said softly. “You were brothers, comforting each other, sharing your bodies and your fears…but you were not in love.”

“Yes, we were!” Faramir said hotly. “You don’t know, you don’t understand!”

Aragorn looked down and shook his head. “I loved your brother, Faramir,” he sighed. “I was in love with him from the moment our eyes met in Rivendale. He told me….he told me he had feelings for me, but…he could not betray you, could not hurt you that way. He was going to talk to you when he returned…but…he never got that chance.”

Faramir slid across the bed away from Aragorn and covered his ears. “No! You are wrong! He loved me! He would never…”

“I wanted him so badly,” Aragorn continued, as if Faramir had not spoken. “I wanted to hold him every night and wake up to him each morning, and though he could not say the words back to me, I could see that he wanted that too. Sneaking around behind closed doors was hard on him as well, Faramir.”

Faramir’s eyes were filled with pain and rage as he looked at Aragorn. “He loved me. That’s why he would not sleep with you, my *king*.”

Aragorn sighed and stood, arms crossed over his chest and his heart aching at the thoughts of what he could have had with Boromir, if only he hadn’t been afraid of hurting his brother. “He did love you, Faramir,” he said softly. “He loved you so much that he was willing to sacrifice his own happiness for you. Can you honestly say that you never once saw him look at another with longing in his eyes? That he never watched one of your men with more than a little interest?”

Faramir’s mouth opened, but the words wouldn’t come. He had seen Boromir do just that…look at someone just a moment longer than normal, tongue licking at his lips and eyes dark and half lidded until Faramir would elbow him and pretend to glare. Boromir always laughed it off, saying he was thinking of all he had to do that day, or making mental notes for his meeting with their father. But now…Faramir couldn’t help but wonder.

Aragorn moved quickly back across the room and rested one hand on each of Faramir’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, Faramir,” he said softly. “I truly am. But Boromir is gone. Gone far too soon and too violently, but nevertheless…he will not be back, and try as you might, you cannot make love to a ghost. You cannot hold him, or kiss him, or touch him anymore, my friend. He sacrificed so much to see you happy…and here you are, turning your back on everyone who shows any interest in you. Haldir, especially. He was taken with you from the moment he saw you. Yet you have pushed him away so many times, it might be too late. Do you honestly think this is what Boromir would want? You, in his bed, crying and alone, living in the past and letting your present pass you by without notice?”

Warm tears flowed unchecked down Faramir’s face, and as Aragorn spoke, he looked away. He loved Boromir, there was no doubt about that. But how many times had he wished to hold his lover’s hand in public, knowing he could never have that with him? To kiss him without fear of recrimination or scorn? And truthfully…Faramir had often looked at others as well. Wondering what it would be like to not be ashamed of the affection or the happiness, to not have to leave before the morning light shone thorough their window and worry that he would be seen as he snuck back to his room.

Aragorn, seeing that he’d at least made Faramir think about his situation, backed away and quietly left the room. He, Aragorn, had truly loved Boromir, and he could see the longing in Boromir’s eyes as well when the looked at him. An honorable man till the end, Boromir would not allow himself to follow his heart, but had promised to try and settle things with his brother. Then…he’d been killed, and the only kiss they’d shared had been as Boromir lay dying in his arms, and Aragorn’s tears fell unchecked as their lips had met for the first and last time.

Faramir thought about Aragorn’s words long into the night. Above all, Boromir had wanted Faramir to be happy, he knew that without a doubt. And he wasn’t. He had never known real happiness, truth be known. The pleasure of an hour here making love to his brother, an hour there daydreaming about when they might next meet…but even that was fleeting. The anxiety of an illicit affair rested heavily on his shoulders day and night, and even when Boromir returned from a patrol after long weeks away, Faramir could do little but give him a small hug and welcome him home. Their real reunion always had to wait until later that night, when no one would see or hear as Faramir made his way down the hallways.

When his mind turned toward Haldir, he felt ashamed for his treatment of the Elf. Haldir had done nothing but be gracious and kind to him, and Faramir had repaid him with weary looks and short responses to his questions, if he bothered to answer at all. Yet, still, Haldir had continued to pursue him. Until today. It had not escaped Faramir’s notice that Haldir did not seek him out after his meeting with the king, and to his surprise, Faramir found himself wondering where the Elf had gotten too.

He stood, looked one final time around the room, and closed his eyes. “I love you Boromir,” he whispered. “Nothing will ever change that, but….the king is right. What we shared wasn’t real…it was love, a deep, abiding love that will never go away, but it would never have been enough for either of us. I’m sorry I didn’t realize that until now.”

Pressing a kiss to his fingertips, he smiled sadly and left Boromir’s room. The hallways were dark and deserted, and as he passed Haldir’s room, he saw the shadows of a fire dancing beneath the doorway. After only a moment’s hesitation, he knocked quietly on the door. His heart was in his throat, and he slowly pushed the door open when he heard a soft voice bid him to enter.

Haldir sat in the large chair, still facing the fire, and did not bother to turn around. “Aragorn, it is no use, mellonamin,” he said with a sigh. “Faramir does not know I exist. I may as well return to Lórien and leave him in peace.”

Faramir’s face flushed and he looked down at the floor for a moment, feeling ashamed and embarrassed at his treatment of the kind and gracious Elf before him. “He…he does know you exist,” he said softly. “He was just too caught up in his own misery to realize that he was being a fool.”

Haldir sat stiffly in the chair for a moment before turning around and eyeing Faramir wearily. “He is not foolish,” he said as their gazes met. “He was in pain, and missing his brother. But he has never been foolish.”

Faramir moved closer to Haldir and knelt by his chair. Looking up into anxious blue eyes, he reached out his hand and rested it over the Elf’s arm. “Can you give him another chance?” he asked softly. “Or has he pushed you away one time too many?”

Slowly, Haldir’s free hand moved to rest over Faramir’s. His thumb lightly caressed the steward’s wrist and he worried his bottom lip for a moment before taking a deep breath. “Is…is he free to love?”

“He is,” Faramir whispered.

“Then maybe I will continue to flirt with him, in the hopes that one day I might still a kiss.”

“How about now?” Faramir said softly. “For he tells me he would like to know how your lips feel over his own.”

Haldir smiled and nodded. His hands moved to Faramir’s shoulders and he gently urged the steward to his feet. His arms rested lightly around Faramir’s waist and he gazed into somewhat nervous blue eyes for a moment before leaning forward and pressing their lips together.

Faramir’s sigh was lost between them, and, though he did not think it was possible, he didn’t think of his brother as soft lips sealed over his own and Haldir’s tongue gently licked at his teeth and the inside of his cheek. His arms wound around the Elf’s waist and his own tongue pressed forward, tasting the sweet taste that was Haldir’s alone and pulling him even closer.

When they pulled away for air, both Man and Elf were breathing heavily. Haldir stared into Faramir’s eyes and ran his hand through the soft hair at the steward’s temple. “Who were you kissing?” he asked softly. “Speak truthfully, please. Was it me or your brother?”

“You,” Faramir replied truthfully, never breaking their gaze, hoping beyond hope that Haldir could see the honesty in his eyes.

Haldir studied the blue eyes before him for a moment longer before nodding and leaning forward again to press soft kisses over the steward’s face.

Faramir tried to return each loving kiss, but soon gave in and simply let himself revel in the soft lips that moved so gently over his skin. He expected Haldir to lead him to the bed, but the Elf sat back down in the chair he’d been sitting in earlier and pulled Faramir into his lap. “Will you go for a walk in the gardens with me at first light?” Haldir asked.

Faramir started to protest…someone would surely see them, as the gardens were crowded in the mornings. But then…what was wrong with that? This time, he had nothing to hide. This time, he could be seen, and not be ashamed or afraid of what others would think. “It would be my honor,” he smiled.

Haldir tangled his fingers with Faramir’s and brought their hands to his lips. Pressing a kiss against Faramir’s knuckles, he smiled as his soon-to-be lover settled comfortably against him. “And would you have breakfast with me? And lunch? And dinner?”

Faramir laughed and rested his head against Haldir’s shoulder. “I would love to,” he smiled.

When the sun rose the next morning, Faramir was still in Haldir’s room, the Elf’s arms wrapped tightly around him and a blanket gently tucked under his chin. They had never moved from the chair, and for the first time ever, Faramir awoke in a loving embrace. When he finally returned to his room to change clothes for their walk in the garden, he smiled brightly at the servants who looked at him with relieved, warm smiles touching their lips, happy to see their steward truly smiling for the first time in decades.

~~~

Years later, Faramir stood by the statue that had been erected in his brother’s honor. He had visited regularly, bringing fresh flowers and small mementos that had made Boromir smile when he was alive. After the first few visits, he’d asked Haldir to come with him, and Haldir had held him close and said it would be his honor to share this time with the man he loved. Haldir had known Boromir, had respected him and knew him to be a brave warrior, and a good man. He had never judged either Boromir or Faramir for what they shared, and Faramir loved him all the more for that.

Laying the bouquet over the cold stone, Faramir stepped back and took his husband’s hand, smiling as soft lips pressed a loving kiss against his temple. As Haldir’s arms enfolded him, he let his fingers run lightly over the statue, remembering Boromir’s smile and his laughter, no longer dwelling on what could have been. He was where he was supposed to be – married to the love of his life, surrounded by more love and devotion than he could ever have dreamed of. He was free to let the world know how he felt, something he could never have hoped for with his brother. And he knew, without a doubt that while he loved Boromir, and had shared so much with him, it was completely different compared to what he shared with Haldir.

“Goodbye, Boromir,” Faramir whispered softly. “I…I won’t be back. I am sailing to Aman with Haldir. I will never forget you, my brother, and I know that all you ever wished for was my happiness and safety. I have both now. I hope you know that.”

A gentle breeze moved across the small enclave, brushing Faramir’s hair back from his face, and he would have sworn he felt soft lips press against his forehead in a chaste kiss. Lips that were not Haldir’s, lips that had not touched him for many, many years. A smile touched Faramir’s face and he turned in Haldir’s arms and held him tightly. “I think he knows,” he smiled. “I think he knows how much I love you, and how happy you make me.”

Haldir’s arms wound tighter around Faramir’s waist, and he was taken by surprise as he felt a gentle kiss upon his own forehead. The wind stopped as suddenly as it had began and felt a peacefulness in the air around them. “I think he does,” he agreed as he smiled at Boromir’s memorial. “And I think he is happy for us.”

With a final look toward his brother’s memorial, Faramir rested his head on Haldir’s shoulder and turned back toward their rooms. He’d said all his goodbyes, and was ready, finally, to leave Gondor for good. His beloved brother would never be far from his mind, but he had now taken his rightful place among Faramir’s memories…as his brother, not his lover, and he was sure Boromir would have welcomed Haldir to their family with open arms.

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