Faramir Fiction Archive

Healing Deep Wounds (NC-17)

Written by Kissa

06 August 2006 | 17701 words

II

On moonlit nights Faramir would lay in the hayloft where he had been allowed to sleep at night and tears would silently run down his cheeks at the thought of his brother being somewhere out there, far away from his loving touch. He hoped his brother would find a more worthy lover, one that could fend for himself and not have to be an extra care on Boromir’s shoulders, and he had reasons to hope such things, as in his agitated dreams he saw Boromir in other people’s arms, men, women and Elves alike. He seldom slept, as the horse warriors strived to train him well and his ranger senses allowed him little rest. He had become solitary and discreet, carrying out his duties and missions with efficiency and in silence. He had somehow attracted Éomer’s friendship as Théoden’s nephew had sought him out to ask him for accounts of battle from his ranger times…Obviously Éomer had crossed a forbidden barrier, Théoden having told everyone that Faramir was the disgraced son of Denethor and was to be avoided. Still, Faramir intrigued every warrior in Rohan, as they all wanted to know how come such a young and apparently fragile lad would become a Captain of Rangers, a position which demanded impressive warrior and healer skills.

Théoden would of course know of Faramir’s Númenor heritage from his mother’s side and he would often confer with him in secret, trusting the young one’s keen intuition and visions when it came to planning ambushes and battles. Thus Faramir came to learn about the heir of Isildur as the new King of Gondor and he was grateful that Denethor’s abusive rule would come to a swift end without him having to raise a hand on his own father. Plus, this Aragorn, son of Arathorn, was not unknown to him. He remembered him under the name Thorongil from his very early childhood, as a friend of his grandsire Ecthelion and as a man of great skills.

Faramir was lonely and grim, but his patrol always came home in complete formation and with little damage, yet always victorious. This had quickly worked in his favor and he had gained the esteem of the Rohirrim, no longer being seen as an outcast, but as an asset to Théoden’s kingdom. Éowyn was particularly nice to him and Éomer repeatedly invited Faramir to their famous Rohirrim orgies, every time after a battle was won, but Faramir would always say no.

His heart was shadowed by a dark feeling and when it came to him in the shape of a vision, in which he saw the broken Horn of Gondor being washed ashore, he knew what that feeling had meant to tell him, and a part of him died then, along with Boromir’s memory.

He wasn’t allowed to mourn though, as the shadow which was threatening the land came closer and closer, and he found himself in the eve of the battle at Helm’s Deep, his mind blank and his body eager to feel blood and death, whether Orc or his own. It was then that Éomer came to him and took him in his strong arms, pressed eager lips on his own and demanded that he, Faramir, surrender his body to him and grant him release from the fear.

And Faramir said no, gently pushing Éomer back and away, instructing him to seek strength in love if he wanted to come out a victor and a survivor from the battle, his deep, sad pools of blue confirming his words and assuring Éomer of the hollowness inside him.

Éomer, instead of feeling angry at the rejection, hugged Faramir close and held him for a long while, thanking him for his wise guidance and true friendship.

After the battle, Faramir felt truly cursed by the Valar to have survived to see the extent of the carnage. His men had been decimated and he had nearly lost all the ones he knew by name, and even the Elven archers that had come to their rescue had fallen one by one. He had seen their captain, the proud Elf who had practically invited death by wearing his red cloak upon white clothes and silver armor, Faramir had seen him fall, overcome by Orcs and for one split-second he had seen the lovely Elven face contorted in pain and felt his own heart twitch with regret for the beautiful stranger. It was a Pyrrhic victory, which meant they had paid dearly for it, so he was wondering if it had been worth it.

He was torn from his thoughts by Éomer, who had survived but now looked mussed and was boiling with wrath at seeing so many of his friends die before his very eyes. Looking up at the young horse lord, Faramir found him extremely beautiful and strong and had a fleeting vision of the man in front of him as king.

“Faramir, I am glad to see you alive and well. Théoden has sent me to fetch you, for you are needed in the council.”

Faramir nodded and followed Éomer to the council chamber, not seeing Éomer’s smile as they walked. Éomer had spoken to Lord Elrond and he himself had been surprised by his courage to speak up in front of the Half Elven with such assured words. They had gathered to decide on the fate of Haldir, Captain of the Galadhrim, who had been gravely injured and who was suspended between life and death. Someone was needed to be bound to Haldir and to give him his life-force. Haldir was very dear to Lord Elrond and, as Marchwarden of Lórien, he was known to be in the favors of Lady Galadriel. Hearing such concern for the precious Elf, Éomer had put two and two together and had seen the opportunity to play match-maker for his loyal Gondorian friend, who was always so stern and uptight as if he had swallowed a spear. If Faramir didn’t like his match-making, he could later take it out on his Rohirrim ass (hopefully matter-of-factly). Théoden had asked Éomer why he wasn’t offering to help the Elf, but Éomer had once heard a discussion during one of the Rohirrim orgies and he knew exactly what the bond required from the two mates. And he preferred his mates mortal, tanned and hairy, thank you Théoden.

Faramir sensed Éomer’s mirth and wondered at the young one’s foolishness to be smiling at a time like this, but he thought that maybe this was Éomer’s way to deal with the loss of so many dear to him.

Once in the Council chamber, he bowed in front of the Lords there and expected to be spoken to. Théoden, Aragorn, Legolas, Elrond and Glorfindel – five pairs of eyes fixed on him questioningly, searchingly, and Faramir bore their gazes without flinching, for he knew himself to be innocent of all crime. It was Elrond who spoke first.

“Son of Denethor, your loyalty is once more needed. Your valor is greatly praised and we’ve all seen you fight. Rohan demands one more service from you. Are you willing to give it?”

“Aye, my Lord. All King Théoden has to do is ask.” Faramir replied, bowing his head in submission, but still catching the joyful look that passed between Legolas and Aragorn.

“Then I ask of you a favor maybe greater than a warrior would ever be expected to give,“ Théoden spoke, “But first I need to ask you whether you have a mate somewhere who loves you and whom you love, and wait to return to?”

Faramir assumed it was a scouting mission deep into Orc territory, one that had little chances of success and which promised certain death. He was already slowly dying in his heart, since Boromir’s passing.

“No, Your Majesty, there is no one.” He answered truthfully, again catching a happy exchange of looks between Aragorn and Legolas and seeing a flicker of something unknown in Elrond’s eyes. He saw Glorfindel draw nearer to his lord and clasp his hand in his. By the way Elrond smiled at his seneschal, Faramir knew the Half-Elven and the Balrog slayer were lovers and he wondered at it. Thinking what the punishment for loving another male was in Gondor under his father’s rule, he sighed and shuddered.
He stood there, waiting.

Théoden spoke then. “I would have offered to do it myself, but my wife would kill me.”

“And Legolas would kill me if I did it,” Aragorn supplied.

“I cannot cross a Balrog slayer.” Elrond added.

“And Éomer just won’t and I can’t force him.” Théoden ended. “So I am asking you, Captain Faramir, to help Lord Elrond pull Haldir back from the halls of Mandos. He is very precious to Lothlórien, to his Lord and Lady and to his brothers.”

“Aye.” Faramir said simply. “What is required of me, my Lords?”

“I will need you to give your life force to Haldir and pull him from the chilling grasp of death.” Elrond explained. “I would have you bond with our dear Haldir. Do you know what that means?”

“This is definitive, Faramir. Once you are bound to him, it cannot be broken. You cannot back out after it’s done, so now would be the time to step back.” Aragorn further explained.

“Nay, I will do it, for I have no real reason for backing up. Nothing awaits for me back in Gondor now.”

“Then let us proceed , for time is of the essence in our success.” Elrond said and took Faramir by the hand, leading him out of the Council chamber and to where Haldir was.

“So young, but so loyal and brave. He will be my Steward.” Aragorn said aloud, lost in his thoughts.

“He needs this bond as much as Haldir does.” Legolas whispered into his ear.

Aragorn moved away and turned to face his lover.

“What do you mean, meleth?” He frowned.

“His heart is broken and he grieves over the loss of his only love.” Legolas explained, shaking his head as if to say that men were still men, no matter how wise, they would still lack in perception depth.

Aragorn smiled as he said: “Well I can testify to one thing: An Elf’s love is known to heal a broken heart.” Then he winked mischieviously at Legolas, circling his slender waist with his arms.

Turning around to kiss his King, Legolas added, before pressing his lips to Aragorn’s: “It’s going to take long for them both to heal and love each other. Though not impossible, this love will take a while to bloom, I expect.”

Aragorn broke their kiss to look at his lover. “Do you mean there’s more about Faramir that you have seen and I must know?”

“Worry not, Aragorn, he was not abused. Although this fact surprises me, knowing what a beast Denethor is. But there is great pain in his heart, for his lover died and he felt it even from far away.”

“Why do you not tell me the whole truth, Legolas? Do you fear that I will think differently of this young valiant warrior just because he let his own brother into his bed?” Aragorn chided. “You should trust me more than this, meleth. I may not be as perceptive as an Elf, but my heart speaks to me and I listen to it. Théoden has told me of Faramir’s visions, and I could always tell by the way Boromir spoke about his little brother that they were closer than other siblings. I just didn’t know in what way.”

Legolas stared at him in silence for minutes, wondering at how mysterious Aragorn’s powers were, even now. How could Aragorn have known about Boromir and his little brother?

“Will you punish Faramir for breaking not one, but two Gondor laws once you assume the throne?” Legolas said aloud.

“That would make me a mere asshole, not a King of Gondor. I am not Denethor, Legolas. It would be hypocritical of me to punish all men who love other men, when I myself am in the same predicament. Were I to stick to Gondorian laws, I could not have my consort by my side, and I need you to rule Gondor with me, Legolas. So fuck the ancient laws, my rule begins with me… with us, my love.”

Legolas giggled happily and snuggled close into his King’s embrace. As Aragorn pulled him close and kissed the top of his head, he crooned: ”Could I interest you in doing some ruling right now?”

Making sure the servants provided Elrond, his wise and ancient guest, with everything he needed, Théoden invited Glorfindel to a game of chess and a pint of fine Rohan ale. He wanted to hear more of the seneschal’s war tales and he was certain that Éomer, Éowyn and Théodred would be entertained just as much by those stories. And thus he would give Elrond, Haldir and Faramir some quiet and privacy.

Faramir almost melted on the spot, his hand going limp in Elrond’s firm grip when he lay eyes on the Elf, as he recognized the mighty Elven Captain he had seen and felt for on the battlefield.

Feeling the young mortal go limp and falter in his footsteps, Elrond turned and wanted to tell him he could go if he had second thoughts, but he saw joy on Faramir’s handsome face.

“Is something amiss? Or you know him?” He inquired.

“Oh, nothing amiss, Lord Elrond. And I do not know him, but I saw him fall on the battlefield and my heart ached to see him die by the foul paws of the Orcs. I am merely glad to see him alive and more convinced I want to do anything in my power to save him. I understand he is a mighty warrior and loved by many.”

“Aye, he is, although they love him from a distance… Haldir is quite stern and harsh –some say even arrogant- and no one has tamed him so far. However, something tells me you will have him purring like a kitten for you.” Elrond said with a suddenly playful grin, so unbecoming of his always grim face.

Faramir doubted he had such rare abilities and he honestly didn’t know what a mousy mortal lad like him could do to “tame” someone as imposing as an ancient Elf.

Elrond’s palm came up to caress his face and he startled at the sudden tenderness from the stern Elven lord. He brusquely had the distinct feeling his life was about to become very complicated and the ranger in him dreaded the loss of his dear freedom, but the loyal part of him cheered his decision to do the right thing.

“It will be alright, you are safe, young one. Just lie down carefully next to Haldir and take his hand in yours. Close your eyes…Yes, that’s it, trust me. Now you’ll feel a cold blade through your mind. Don’t fight it…”

As Faramir closed his eyes and held the injured Elf’s hand, he felt Elrond’s distinct presence in his mind, and soon after that he sensed another presence, but silent and weak. Elrond urged him to reach out to that presence and he did, suddenly feeling flooded by a bright light that left him feeling warm and protected inside, a sensation he had not felt since laying content in Boromir’s strong arms.

Fingers caressing his features lightly told him it was safe to open his eyes and he did, looking at Elrond who was sitting next to him on the edge of the bed, smiling warmly at him.

“Faramir, I want you to listen to me carefully. Haldir has accepted the bond and you two are now bound until the day you die. You will be the only one to touch him until he makes a full recovery and you will take care of him with all the devotion you are capable of. You will make him feel safe and cared for, and you will tend to his every need. The healers will show you what to do.”

“So we will be like brothers, then?”

“More.” Elrond said. “Now rest, both of you. We’ll talk later. Now take off your clothes, get into bed next to Haldir and warm him with your body. Don’t let go of his hand until he wakes up.”

Elrond watched as Faramir swiftly obeyed, undressing all the way to his breeches, but he told the warrior to lose them too. With a slight blush, Faramir obeyed and Elrond turned around to give him some privacy, understanding that the young one wasn’t as liberal about nudity as his Rohirrim peers or as the Elves. That was quite alright, but he had the feeling Haldir wouldn’t be thanking him anytime soon for the way he saved his life in. He didn’t want to have to be the one to provide bedroom advice for the both of them. It would have been less awkward if Haldir’s human mate were not a blushing maiden!

Elrond didn’t know the half of it. But what he did know made him conclude Faramir and Haldir would make the most endearing couple if they did work out.

If only the young mortal wouldn’t run away screaming when he heard the difficult part of being bound to an Elf…especially to a completely untouched Elf such as Haldir!

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