Faramir Fiction Archive

Healing Deep Wounds (NC-17)

Written by Kissa

06 August 2006 | 17701 words

Author: Kissa (kissaperkele@gmail.com)
Pairings: Faramir/Boromir, Faramir/Haldir
Warnings: incest, chan, graphic sex between males, mention of abuse, mention of elf-preg.
Disclaimer: the characters belong to JRR Tolkien, I just play with them a bit and I promise to put them right back. This is all for the sake of good fun, it’s not meant as an offence, please don’t prosecute.

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I

As he entered the uppermost level of the White City, he noticed the unusual silence covering the whole yard like a thick blanket. Fear was drenching the air and it filled his lungs with a vile stench. His heart cringed in his chest and he knew something was wrong, dead wrong.

He had expected a warmer welcome, he had expected his beloved younger brother to run and jump him, prancing around like a puppy in his exuberance, or at least his father, who would be there to praise him for earning more honors for the House of the Stewards and for Gondor.

But there was no one of his loved ones to wait for him. In the council room, he found his father drinking and eating like a hog, as if he wanted to forget something or deal with a tremendous pain. He gave his report to a numb Steward, not even daring to ask about his beloved brother. Denethor only registered his pride and joy of a son had returned and was well and alive when Boromir stopped talking and put the Horn on the table in front of him.

Long hours of talks with his father and dinner with the noblemen of Minas Tirith ensued and Boromir was mortified, the feeling of something amiss never leaving him, coiled around his heart like a serpent in a relentless grip.

Freed at last from the requirements of protocol, Boromir rushed up the stairs to the room he shared with Faramir, eager to check on the nasty feeling that kept bothering him, and to shrug off his stinking, battle-soiled clothes.

He wanted nothing more than to crawl in bed and to soak in his brother’s pleasant warmth, but for that, he had to rid himself of the stench of war and road. He hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open and whispered a small prayer, hoping to see his beloved brother tucked into the blankets.

He did see his brother, but he didn’t like how he saw him. The room, usually appropriately furnished with all the things needed for daily life, now looked like a prison cell. His brother lay directly on a thin layer of hay placed over the stone bed and he was covered in a filthy, rough sack cloth. Nothing else was in the room.

Infuriated, the young warrior got out on the hallway and roared for the servants. He knew why the room had been thus emptied. Denethor wanted to harden his “lesser son” and to make a man out of him. But how to make a man out of a 14 year old boy? And, more important, why?

Boromir, now having seen his nineteenth summer, was already considered a man. He led men into battle and was their Captain. But surely his brother still hadn’t completed his training, he was still a child. Boromir loved his brother dearly and was fighting not only for Gondor, but also to know that his little jewel was safe from the defiling touch of evil. He didn’t give a rat’s ass about ancestors and pride and their noble title, but he would have given the blood in his veins to ensure his brother could still smile innocently to him. And now their father was taking that away behind his back, by treating little Faramir like the shame of the land.

As the servants rushed to see to his commands, he ordered them to bring back all the objects that had been in his room before his departure, to make the fire and to prepare him a warm bath and a set of clean clothes.

The men and women spread quickly to see that his wishes were fulfilled, and he went back into the room to wake his brother.

He watched him as he lay on one side, with his back to the door and curled up in a ball, as if even in his sleep he was afraid and sought protection. He found that his brother had grown, his limbs a bit longer than the last time he’d seen them and a bit more graceful…Faramir was covered in the dirty sack cloth and underneath it, as Boromir touched his shoulder through the fabric, he was ice-cold.

He raised the cloth to find his brother wearing the thinnest nightshirt he’d ever seen; not even women wore that see-through kind of thing on hot summer nights, let alone in the dead of winter!

The warm touch awoke the young lord and made him startle. As he turned and sleepily opened his eyes, he ducked reflexively, as if fearing a strike, but then one of those heart-melting smiles spread on his face as his lips formed his brother’s name.

“Boromir, you’re back!” He almost shouted, sitting up to embrace his brother.

Now Boromir really didn’t like what he saw. His brother, the light of his days, had ugly cuts across one of his fair cheeks and in some places the seal on their father’s ring was imprinted as a bloody, ridged shape. He also had a split lip and even more bruises continued down his throat and disappeared under the collar of the nightshirt. He had difficulty sitting up and Boromir wanted to see him whole, to bitterly assess the damage.

He smiled reassuringly when he saw his brother’s eyes widen in fear at the sight of the grim look on his face, and he brought his hand up to caress the youthful, delicate features, now marked by violence.

“Open your nightshirt, sweet one.” He softly pleaded, and watched in tension as Faramir winced in pain when he raised his arms to bare himself of the thin shirt.

Fearing the worst, Boromir caught Faramir’s smaller hands in his own, stopping them.

“Let me,” he whispered and his heart sank as he saw the complete trust in Faramir’s eyes. A shudder of dread ran through him at the mere thought of what their father could have done to his precious jewel.

As he divested Faramir, he gasped in shock at what he saw. Arrow wounds, two of them, marked one of the small, still round shoulders and shallow, but ugly sword cuts, now healing, stood witness of what Boromir dreaded. When he wanted to remove the shirt from his brother’s back, his fingers encountered something wet and first assumed it was sweat, but then, when the shirt peeled off Faramir’s back, he saw the wetness for what it was. He pulled Faramir close to him, making him straddle his lap and sit down, looking at deep lash marks on the thin, un-tanned skin. His fingers traced the gashes in wonder, feeling their depth and almost feeling the cruelty of each blow.

The Captain of Gondor held his little brother close and he cried in silence, nuzzling the soft auburn curls of the young one’s hair, gently caressing his back in a soothing manner, hoping he could come up with a way to erase the memory of the immense torture. Only traitors were whipped in Gondor, as it was both degrading and painful as a punishment.

He pressed his lips soothingly to his brother’s, kissing him affectionately as he had always done before, with his mouth closed but with lips wet and salty from tears.

“Boromir, I’m so sorry. Father was right, I’m not a man and I don’t deserve to live, let alone to be loved!”

“What happened, my treasure? Who did all this to you?” Boromir asked, already fearing the answer.

“Father sent me to guard the borders with the patrol of Ithilien rangers and we were attacked. We all fought and few of the men escaped unharmed. Father expected me to die there and thus cease to shame him, but when two rangers brought me back wounded but alive, he accused me of backing away from the fight and whipped me for having further tainted his name.”

“Gods, little one, I wish I could take you away with me and keep you safe from his rage and from his foolish words! Never say you’re sorry to be alive! For you see, my beloved brother, if you die, my heart fades with you. Why do you think I fight and go on diplomatic missions to make alliances? Not only for the White City, our home and our people, but because I want to know that every time I come home, my brother is safe and waiting for me. But now I should tend to your wounds, lovely Faramir. I hear rumbling in the room next door, I think the bath is ready. Will you join me, so we can get you clean and see to your wounds?”

Faramir could only nod, overwhelmed by kindness he had not felt for a long time, as the servants were prohibited to talk to him or serve him, by Denethor’s specific orders.

Boromir effortlessly lifted his brother in his arms, planting battle-hardened hands onto the young one’s buttocks and getting off the bed, not before tucking the shirt around Faramir’s hips, to preserve his dignity in case the servants were still in the bath chamber.

Faramir rested his head on his brother’s shoulder and breathed in his manly scent. He wanted so much to be like is brother! Now that he was being held so closely and so possessively, nothing else mattered anymore.

“I’m so glad you’re back, Boromir! You give me hope and strength to resist father’s trials, when you’re here I feel that nothing can really reach us…” He mumbled happily into Boromir’s collar.

Entering the bath chamber, Boromir glared at the servants and they got out, except for a maid who stayed behind to give her lord a jar of healing salve (from his newly arranged quarters where his things had been moved), now finally daring to provide the means for Faramir to be healed.

When even the maid left and they were alone, Boromir put his brother down carefully and stripped him of the blood-stained nightshirt. He also removed his own cloak, chainmail and vest, then told his little brother to step into the tub.

Even as Faramir obeyed his order, he saw the big blue depths pointed at him questioningly and a tell-tale blush as his brother shyly said:
“Boromir, please join me. You are tired and worn from long months of patrolling and fighting, and it isn’t fair that you bathe in my filth…The spare water in the buckets isn’t enough for the both of us to take a decent bath separately.”

Before stripping down to join his brother in the water, having seen the young one had a point, Boromir first locked the bath chamber door, just in case. He didn’t want anyone, especially Denethor, barging in on them and yelling at why Faramir was being pampered.

As the last piece of dirty clothing slid off him, Boromir turned to face his brother and heard a gasp. Faramir was leaning on the edge of the tub and was measuring and admiring every new centimeter of bared skin. His brother’s shoulders had widened and had taken a manly, square shape, his muscles had toned under his slightly tanned skin and his whole body had lost its boyish allure, without losing its grace as it gained in strength.

“Boromir, you are beautiful! I knew I was right to think you are the most handsome man in all Gondor. Will I ever get to be like you?”

Stepping into the tub and settling at the other end, Boromir smiled and said:
“Such things you say, little one, when it is you who are beautiful. My hands are rough from wielding the sword and my legs are crooked for they have taken the shape of the horse. I wish you would see your beauty, my sweet Faramir; you’ve kept so much from our mother’s features! Even among the Elf people who are all a race of fair creatures I have never seen one as alluring as you, dear brother. And you know why? Because your sweetness, your kindness and your sharp wits shine through like an inner light…and because you are MY little brother, who can brighten up my day with a smile. I wish I could always have you like this, small and innocent, safe from all the corruption of the world and safe from father’s abuse. If there was a way to do it, I’d hide you deep within me to keep you safe and close for all time.”

Now Faramir had blushed even more at his brother’s brash, but heart-felt words, which rang more like the words likely to flatter a maiden, as he had read in the books from the library. But it felt good to have someone love him and not be ashamed of feeling those feelings for “Gondor’s shame”, as their father called him. He almost dozed off in the welcoming warmth and perfume of the bath water. He was brought back into focus by the feeling of his brother’s lips on his brow, gently pecking him and moving away the slightest bit, only to say:
“Move near me and sit in my front so I can wash your hair, dearest.” He heard Boromir purr and he obeyed. He was ready to sit on hot coals or onto a spear if his brother told him to, especially in that low, reassuring voice.

They washed each other’s hair and backs, Boromir having to be extra gentle with the whip marks still fresh on his brother’s narrow back. Running his hands on that lithe body, over the soft, still hairless skin, the warrior felt a stirring deep within him, like a need that was fighting to surface from his most secret depths. He had only felt that kind of stirring when accidentally witnessing the coupling between two soldiers on a night when he was inspecting the camp. Then it had been accompanied by a giggle, the young captain finally having discovered that men did it like Rohan horses with their mares…he had laughed at the awkwardness of the act and had noted that couplings between males were not only Elven perversions.

But now the feeling was different, as it was mixing with the strong urge to protect and love Faramir forever. Faramir was HIS little brother, HIS treasure and HIS alone!

Boromir awoke from his distant musings and smiled at his brother, telling him they had to get out of the water before the skin on their fingers and toes rotted away and fell off. Faramir giggled, a bell-like sound that brought great joy to Boromir’s ears and heart. Seeing his brother’s pain had lessened, Boromir rejoiced in hearing his soft laughter because it was as priceless as it was rare. He placed a loving peck on his brother’s full, now warm lips and slid his arms around the lithe form, sneaking his hands under the small butt, lifting him from the water and getting out of the tub.

He dried Faramir’s hair with a towel and used his fingers to comb his brother’s hair, then wrapped him in a large towel while he dried himself. He gave Faramir the jar of salve and told him to hold on to it while he lifted Faramir and carried him back to their room.

The servants had made the fire and had brought back the soft mattress, the clean sheets, the thick warm duvet and two sets of clean clothes, one for Boromir and one for his brother.

Lowering his brother on the bed, Boromir took the jar of salve from him and unscrewed the lid, which released a pleasant floral scent into the room. Faramir’s eyes widened in curiosity as to what that was and Boromir told him it was a healing salve made by an Elven recipe, given to him by Mithrandir. He coated his fingers with it and swiftly began to tend the wounds on his brother’s torso and back.

His brother’s strong hands moving on him so tenderly felt like nothing Faramir had ever experienced. The love his brother felt for him was almost palpable and he began to doze off, the pain in his wounds fading away slowly.

He dimly felt Boromir lie down next to him when he was done with the wounds, and, like many times before in a distant, happy childhood, he snuggled close to Boromir’s large frame, realizing he was in intimate contact with hot, naked skin. Instead of rejecting him, strong arms moved around him, accepting him near and wrapping him in a protective grip, pulling the duvet close to the both of them and Faramir relaxed into sleep completely, feeling safe and loved.

“You are my whole world, Boromir. You are why I still live on Arda,” Faramir whispered right before surrendering to sleep.

“And you are my hope and blessing, little one. I will love you for as long as there is blood in me.” Boromir pressed against the top of his younger brother’s head before he too fell asleep.

Boromir awoke with a start, feeling the shudders coursing through his brother’s slender form and hearing the pained yelp that escaped his brother’s lips. He gathered Faramir even closer and whispered soothing words, gently shaking him awake to help him escape from the nightmare he was having.

Faramir came awake and the first thing he saw was the loving concern in Boromir’s emerald eyes, only millimeters from his face. Boromir trailed his callused fingers over his features, slowly, in a gesture of soothing tenderness and whispering endearments to chase away the memory of the nightmare. Then soft lips came down on his brow, on both his eyes, the tip of his nose, his chin, his lips and then again on his lips in small pecks, but the emotions flowing between them, the love Boromir was giving him flooded Faramir and he almost felt like drowning, which caused him to open his mouth and gasp, thus sucking Boromir’s own breath into his mouth and bringing his brother’s lips in closer contact with his own.

Faramir became suddenly very aware of the hotness surrounding them both, of Boromir’s weight half on top of him and of two quickening heartbeats. It overcame his calm and he surrendered to the crushing feeling, arching his frail body against Boromir’s strong one, his tongue gratefully darting to trace his brother’s lips, which surprisingly opened for him and the gentle peck turned into a real kiss, still tender and healing, only now heated and full of meaning.

Faramir gasped as Boromir moved to let his whole weight rest atop his smaller frame, and his legs unconsciously parted to allow his body some relief from the crushing force from above him. And Boromir’s lips were somehow glued to his, his tongue gently chasing Faramir’s in one mouth, then in the other, caressing it and coaxing unknown responses from it.

Panting, gasping for a breath, Faramir looked at his brother and breathlessly asked: “What are you doing to me, sweet Boromir? Why do you torment me so?”

“I’m showing you my love for you, which only grew while I was away and when I came home to see the strong, beautiful being you’ve turned into. I’m making sure you are mine, although to be quite honest, I cannot fully answer your question for I myself have little knowledge of what I’m doing.”

Faramir relaxed even more in his arms and smiled, that magical smile which quickened Boromir’s entire being and was reserved only for him to see.

“Yes, show me love Boromir, as you are the only one in the world I could ever love. Do what you wish with me, you have me completely and in any way you please.”

But Boromir silenced him with another kiss, and they kissed and kissed and then kissed some more as if the world’s end came the next day. He pulled back and breathed deeply, knowing he couldn’t keep that detail from his brother.

“If I were to try and pleasure us both, it would hurt you, sweet one. Especially since I’m not experienced at this…I’ve only seen it done once by two rangers and they were mating like the horses of the Rohirrim.”

Surprisingly, Faramir wrapped his long slender arms around his neck and prevented him to move away, making their eyes meet and their gazes lock.

“I do not fear pain, Boromir. Were it you who gives it to me, it would feel like the sweetest bliss, and I’m prepared to take everything you have to give me. I know as I’ve never known anything else in my short life that I cannot let anyone other but you touch me thus.”

With those words, he tangled his hands in Boromir’s and kissed him long and deep, then he drew back and added, a hint of mischief in his sparkling eyes:
“Besides, you don’t have to fuck me like the horses of the Rohirrim…surely you can imagine other ways.” He said, gently wrapping his legs around his brother’s waist and giggling.

Boromir’s eyebrows had almost crept into his hairline with surprise. He just stared agape at his now lust-filled brother, who suddenly didn’t seem so hurt and innocent anymore.

“And who taught you this, little one?” He inquired with a frown.

Faramir laughed softly, not a mocking laughter but a reassuring one, and told him he’d found some illustrated manuscripts in the library, dating from Ecthelion’s time and written in Elvish.

“I want you to find your pleasure within my body and make me yours…will you, beloved Boromir?”

All the raging hormones and all the bodily yearnings he had so severely pent up for years unleashed on the spot and suddenly the prospect of sex didn’t appear like an unpleasant obligation to carry out for the sake of Gondor…Boromir realized his possessive way of thinking about Faramir, his dreams of the boy while he was away on campaign were sheer lust, which came only to add itself to the deep bond of love that already united them. Confident that his more educated sibling – as usual!- would guide him, Boromir surrendered to sensation and his mind shut itself in front of every thought or image that wasn’t Faramir.

His well-trained soldier mind raised the objection of morality, but it was soon shushed by a fairly simple reasoning: If Faramir was considered man enough at fourteen to be sent to fight orc patrols and to die, then he was man enough to be made love to, also.

All thought exited his head as he felt Faramir’s sweat-slick body arch into his and rub an incredibly hard member against his thigh. Boromir reached between their bodies with his hand and grabbed the arousal, noting that although Faramir still had some catching up to do in terms of size, his little brother was not so “little” now, but also hot and hard… which was not an unpleasant feeling to his touch. Not at all. He leaned down to capture his brother’s lips again, as if he couldn’t get enough of that sweet warmth, and at the same time began to slowly run his fist up and down the further swelling shaft, sensing his own had stiffened painfully and was leaking embarrassingly over Faramir’s left inner thigh. He went dizzy with further arousal when Faramir reached for his length, traced it experimentally and collected the offending fluid, milking it from him with thumb and two fingers, then reverently brought it to his own lips, closing his eyes as he tasted it.

Boromir felt his face go ablaze seeing his brother’s uninhibited action, and he felt challenged, his hand speeding up its pace over the young one’s shaft and spreading the sticky fluid over the whole length, enjoying the slick feeling of it and the effortless glide. When they were both slick enough, Boromir shifted position a bit, bringing his length to press and slide against Faramir’s, which drew a helpless moan from his brother, who rocked his hips into his own, urging him to move faster.

Seeing Faramir finally lose focus and throw his head back with his eyes closed in abandon, Boromir gleamed with pride, knowing he was the cause of that blissful expression, and slid lower under the duvet, until he was centimeters away from his brother’s arousal. He didn’t allow himself any thought before taking the tender moist head into his mouth, ever mindful of his teeth, not wanting to hurt his beloved. He slowly set about discovering the best ways to pleasure Faramir, and when he looked up he smiled around the cock in his mouth, seeing Faramir had put a pillow over his face to prevent himself from howling his pleasure, afraid they’d alert the guards or worse, their father.

He discovered he could take his brother’s length deep into his throat and that he could flex his inner muscles to massage the head, while his tongue lay flat and wet against the sensitive underside. His hands roamed his younger brother’s torso and sides, for the sheer pleasure of feeling every squirming movement, every shudder he caused in the slender body.

His hands went to cup Faramir’s buttocks of their own accord when he felt the tension gather low in his brother’s body and, with a fleeting, butterfly touch to the small, shallow ridge between Faramir’s balls, he tasted his brother fully as thick, hot seed flooded his mouth. Faramir suddenly felt incredibly alive, throbbing in his mouth, and Boromir was eminently pleased with his first performance of the sort.

Sweet as Faramir tasted, he controlled himself enough to retain a bit of the creamy fluid, letting it mingle with his own saliva as he urged Faramir to settle the backs of his knees over his shoulders, thus giving him a more comfortable way of access to his target. He then threw the duvet off them and aside, wanting to be able to see every detail of his brother’s body and dipping lower between Faramir’s thighs, even as he pulled his pillow from its place and put it under his brother’s hips.

“Boromir…please…I want… Gods!” Faramir gasped as he reached to touch Boromir’s hot and leaking cock, his body now twisting with desire.

But Boromir wasn’t through with his exploration, so he went back between Faramir’s thighs and dipped his head to press his lips to his brother’s virgin entrance, tentatively kissing it first and then gradually slicking it with the mixture of saliva and seed he still held in his mouth. He took a sort of fascination in the idea that he was touching his brother in the most intimate way and making him his, giving him maddening pleasure even as he took his own considerable amount from feeling the tight muscles relax under his slicking assault. Looking up to see his brother writhe and thrash his head from side to side in abandon, he pressed his tongue against the opening and applied some extra pressure until the muscle gave way and he gained access. The body of his beloved almost bolted into the ceiling from the sensation and he continued to coat the entrance until his mouth held no more slickness. He drew away only a bit, only to blow cool air over the sweet hole, and it was then that Faramir begged.
“Boromir, please, make me yours!”

It was a whispered, choked plea that almost made Boromir find his release untouched, then and there. Almost. Instead, he shakily arranged his hips in between his brother’s legs and came up to frame Faramir’s face with his hands, leaning on them as he felt Faramir’s legs tighten about his waist and pulling him inside with one strong jerk.

His lips were on Faramir’s when he felt the violent pang coursing through his brother’s body and he swallowed his brother’s pained cry. They both trembled and Faramir thrashed and writhed under him, but the head of Boromir’s cock was inside his brother’s impossible tight heat, which gripped him viciously, painfully, and Boromir knew there was no pulling out at that time. He could only press further in, which he did, as slowly as he could, trying to give his brother time to adjust to the intrusion. He did his best at distracting his small lover with gentle kisses to his lips, his neck, his shoulders, his chest and with little tender licks and nips on his taut, rosy nipples.

When Faramir cried, tears gathering on his lower eyelids and running silently down his flushed cheeks, Boromir kissed the tears away, stroking his face and chest soothingly as he pushed further into him, until he was fully engulfed by the tight heat and his own balls rested against Faramir’s hot skin. For a few moments, he was extremely still, breathing from deep within his belly, trying to relax in order to give his brother time to adjust. When he felt Faramir’s hips slowly grind against him, he mentally blessed him for ending his torture, for he had to move lest he would die from the need.

He whispered sweet words to his brave little brother and he sat back, gathering Faramir in his arms and pulling him up a bit, so now his angle changed dramatically and he began to drive into the dizzying heat, faster and faster, panting, kissing Faramir every time he managed to take a breath and swallowing his enraptured moans.

“I love you, little one, you are my entire world!” He pressed out even as he was lodged deep within his brother’s body, enjoying the fluttering pull of hot, tight flesh around his member as he drew out to slam back in even harder.

“You are my reason to be in this world, Boromir. I love you more than life itself… yes, fill me, mark me…aaah!!! Boromiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiir!” Faramir managed to press out between the brutal jabs that tore his body in half, the pain mingled with the pleasure so intimately that he could not tell one from the other, as Boromir’s hard-on slid over still too dry inner walls, but also over a secret spot inside him that he feared would bring about his end. His fingers were splayed on his brother’s shoulders and were digging in cruelly, strongly enough to bruise.

Boromir’s hand snaking between their laced bodies and grabbing firm hold of Faramir’s renewed erection was just the right amount of extra stimulation, and it only took three or four strokes before Faramir came undone, his arms dropping from his brother’s shoulders, his head falling back as shuddering spasms wracked his thin body and he tensed like an overdrawn bow before spilling what looked like even the last drop of moisture from his body, coating Boromir’s enclosing hand and their bellies profusely. His inner muscles clamped around the thick shaft buried inside him and as he felt the hotness flood him, he also felt a stab of pain in his neck where his brother sank his teeth in abandon and to prevent himself from shouting loud enough for the Valar to hear.

Boromir lost himself in the pleasurable feeling of being fully inside his brother’s willing body. He knew he had caused pain and he would have regretted it if he had had the ability to control himself at the moment, but he was defenseless against the tidal wave of pleasure that washed over him and caught him unprepared, throwing him overboard even as he felt his cock being rhythmically strangled and milked of every aching drop of seed.

He slowly came back to normal perception of his surroundings, but he was still shaken by his first erotic experience. He looked at Faramir’s flushed face, took in his parted lips, his heavy breathing, his heaving chest and he reached out to touch him, still joined intimately to him and reluctant to leave the sweet tightness…but only until he looked down to where his member disappeared into his brother’s body and saw a reddish trail of what seemed to be seed and blood trickling out. He withdrew hastily and Faramir had to cover his mouth with both hands to keep from screaming in pain, and Boromir watched, horrified, as more blood trickled out of his brother’s molested opening.

“I’m sorry, my beloved. I’m so sorry for hurting you so! I didn’t know…” He whispered in a faint voice, unable to look into his brother’s eyes. He felt a soft hand caress his cheek and guide his chin up, making him look and see nothing but sheer happiness on Faramir’s face.

“I told you I love you, beloved, and I meant it with all my heart and soul. I will treasure this pain forever as it was you who gave it to me and because the pleasure it brought completely overshadowed it. Do not feel sorry, for you have made me the happiest man on Arda. And I have the most skilled lover in all the races.” Faramir spoke softly, his voice still cracking with traces of the tremendous pleasure he had just experienced. His hands rushed to caress Boromir’s muscled chest and to help him lie down. He then settled in his arms, with his head on Boromir’s shoulder and settled in for an hour of sleep before waking time when he heard his brother’s low, rumbling voice whisper coarsely in his ear:
“I would have you be with me the entire day today and further tend to your wounds, as I already want you again. And then I would have you show me this pleasure you speak of and take me in turn.”

All worries of responsibilities and duties fled from Faramir’s mind as he felt himself harden again at his brother’s words.

Yet the blissful morrow never came for the two of them. Boromir was hastily summoned to Denethor’s chambers and sent on a perilous mission, which became another one and another one, having him roam all of Middle Earth to fulfill his father’s wishes.

When he was finally allowed to return to Minas Tirith, he found his little brother gone, and Denethor informed him dryly that the “brat” had been sent to Rohan, to complete his training and to make a warrior out of himself… or at least a whore to the wild horse lords, if not anything more profitable.

Boromir retreated to his private quarters to weep for his little brother, wishing times were different and his brother would not have to struggle to become something he wasn’t cut out to be. Yet he felt good that Faramir couldn’t read the betrayal in his eyes, because if the little one had been there to see him, he would undoubtedly have seen that Boromir had given in to his unbound lust and he had sought the tremendous pleasure in various willing bodies other than his …a fleeting pleasure which had never compared to that of being received in love.

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!

III

He opened his eyes in shock, surprised he still had a body with eyes to open. He wasn’t dead, which bewildered him, but incredible pain was there to confirm he was alive more than ever, because he was able to feel the cold air in the room and…warmth in his back. Then a new shock hit him as he realized he was in someone’s arms, being held closely and with his hand clasped in a warm strong one.

Slowly, it sank in. Elrond hadn’t found anyone to bond him to among his Elf warriors, and he was stuck with a human. If it was also a female, he, Haldir, was going to plead to be delivered directly to Mandos.

He looked cautiously over his shoulder to find himself faced with the biggest, bluest eyes he’d ever seen and with a shy smile. A mere boy! Cursing inwardly, he struggled to maintain a civil tone and manner while trying to find out more about his situation. As he opened his mouth to speak, he heard the boy speak in a melodic, low tone which proved physically soothing to him:

“Captain Haldir, I see you are awake. You will make all of us glad. Your friends were worried for you.”

“Why would none of them accept to bond with me?” Haldir almost burst into tears.

A smile played on the boy’s lips as he said: ”Unfortunately none of your brave friends was free… they are all bound to Elves, whether in the open or in secret.”

“And my warriors, my archers? Why wouldn’t they accept?”

Haldir regretted asking when he saw the youthful features darken. He suddenly knew why and his tears flowed freely as realization hit him.

“None of them!... Did they all die? Elbereth, why was I allowed to live? I wish I were dead alongside my archers!”

Through his veil of tears, he saw the young one grow sad. He sniffled a bit, then assumed a serious expression.

“No, mortal, I am grateful for what you did, I just think it was cruel and selfish of Elrond to rescue me when he knew I’d be suffering more if parted from my faithful archers…”

“No, my lord, it was not selfish or unwise of lord Elrond to do so. You are very precious to many and needed alive.”

Looking at the youthful face, Haldir thought to himself it seemed familiar, but didn’t know where from.

Wanting to turn around so he could face the boy, Haldir was faced with unbearable pain and he whimpered in what he deemed to be an undignified manner, but he soon felt strong, yet delicate fingers stop him in his movements, briefly caressing his arms in a soothing intent, and then he felt himself being lifted and rearranged on the bed in the position he had wanted. The young one carefully arranged the pillows under his head and back to make sure he was comfortable.

In the concerned look of concentration on his new mate’s face, Haldir saw a clue which sparked his memory and he exclaimed:

“I know you! I saw you on the battle field! You were wearing an armor marked with the White Tree of Gondor! You are a captain!” and then, again taking in the man’s youthful features, he continued: “But you can’t be! You’re too young! Why did you accept to be bound to me? Didn’t Elrond tell you what a difficult Elf to live with I am?”

“At first it was an act of loyalty for my second home, Rohan, who had a debt to repay to the Elves who died at the Deep. But when I saw you here on the bed, I recognized the proud Captain for whom my heart had bled on the battlefield. It should have been me, who am a worthless nobody, to have to die, not a being of such grace and strength like you. So seeing you had somehow survived, I gladly did all that Lord Elrond told me to if that meant you would live.”

Haldir mused about this admirable mortal and his beautiful heart. He would have saved any Elf under his lead by bonding with him if he had been asked to, but he wasn’t sure he would have done the same thing for a stranger.

“I’m sorry, my friend, I was so absorbed in crying for my own misery that I forgot to ask the name of my noble savior. Who are you, my young warrior?” Haldir said, trying to make his voice sound less arrogant.

He was rewarded with a beautiful smile on the soft face and he heard the boy speak:

“I am Faramir of Gondor. I am a Captain of Rangers and I’ll serve Rohan and its king until it is time to return to Gondor. And I am not as young as you deem me… I am twenty-three years of age and I have been wielding the sword and bow since I was five. I became a ranger at thirteen.”

Haldir wondered at how strangely drawn he was to the young mortal. He reached out with this trembling hand and caressed the smooth cheek of his mate.

“Faramir…” He repeated to make sure he retained the name well. “I thank you for offering yourself to save me and I promise to do my best to make us work well together.”

Then Haldir felt suddenly very tired and he sighed, feeling his body demanding more rest.

“It will be easy to love you, sweet Faramir,” he murmured before sleep caught him again, leaving Faramir doubly stricken with fright. Love him? Love him…how? And the Elf had just used an endearment that only Boromir had used for him, calling him “sweet Faramir”. It had been seven years since those words had been spoken to him and they still had the same effect, softening his heart and making him yield to whatever the future held.

So Faramir had no other option than to nestle near his charge and settle into sleep too.

Days passed by and, thanks to Faramir’s patience and polite, yet caring manner of tending to Haldir’s wounds and requests, the proud Elf began to heal rapidly, and the more he felt his heart open for the young mortal, the quicker his body healed.

Elrond and Aragorn came to check on the two of them and Elrond was pleased to see Haldir awake and able to speak. When they arrived, Faramir was pleading with Haldir to make him eat some fresh strawberries, and, seeing three pairs of expectant eyes upon him, Haldir relented and bit into the fruit that Faramir was holding in front of his lips. The food tasted incredibly good after days of being able to assimilate nothing but a few drops of water now and then.

Elrond was almost giddy with joy seeing Haldir accept food. Now he was certain the Marchwarden would live to snap at another generation of Elves who needed to be trained as archers.

Aragorn, on the other hand, was happy to see Faramir smile, a sight he only knew from Boromir’s tales, never before having seen the Gondorian Captain smile with his own eyes. And his heart wept again at the loss of Boromir. He informed Faramir of appointing him his Steward, and was surprised to see Faramir laugh shortly.

“What is so amusing, Son of Gondor? Do you think I am jesting when I say I want you to be my loyal Steward?” Aragorn frowned.

“Nay, my King, I didn’t mean to be disrespectful, I just find it ironic. My father would go insane if he knew…It was why he sent me away, fearing I would one day become Steward as he deemed me unworthy of the title.”

Aragorn assumed a serious pose and said in a low, private voice: “Faramir, your father has gone insane…After sending his troops to certain death, he threw himself into a fire and found his death by flames.”

Faramir then really looked like a child, realizing he was left alone in the world and that his name would die with him.

Suddenly Haldir, who had been conferring with Elrond on the other side of the bed, felt a pang through his body and winced in pain. For a moment, the bond had allowed him to feel a fraction of Faramir’s loneliness and inner torment. He turned to look at his mate, knowing he needed to help him as much as he had been helped.

“No, dear Faramir, you are not alone. You have me forever, noble one.” He said shakily, surprised to hear himself say words he would never have said before to anyone.

Faramir reached for him to see if he was alright and he nodded, smiling soothingly, then moving closer to wrap his arms in a hug around Faramir. The young man had never seen the Elf behave like that and, having grown unaccustomed to such sweetness, he looked at Haldir in wonder, thinking the Elves were indeed a magical race, noting how the sorrow in his heart diminished to a more bearable level. He melted into the hug and his fingers gently moved to caress Haldir’s long, silver hair, taking comfort in the softness of it.

Aragorn and Elrond had moved away from the bed, leaving the two to comfort each other, as they needed to strengthen their bond, and Aragorn chuckled happily. Elrond smiled too, but in truth he was still worried about Faramir’s reaction upon learning what it took to complete the bond. Judging by the way Faramir took the blows life dealt him, Elrond found himself hoping and confident things would work out for the better.

Having been left alone with Faramir again, Haldir felt sad at the thought that he would have to follow his mate in Gondor and never see his brothers or the Golden Wood.

“What upsets you, my friend? Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” Faramir whispered, a concerned look on his face.

There was no point in hiding things from his mate, as the bond was making them transparent to each other. So Haldir sighed and confessed:

“I was thinking I would never see my home and my brothers again…and I’ve never been to Gondor. Do you think I would like it there?”

Faramir was left speechless for a moment, then he assured Haldir he wasn’t his prisoner, that they could visit his brothers in Lothlórien and that, yes, he would like Gondor as Gondor would like him. He began to tell him about Minas Tirith, about the beach, the woods and all the nice things he had grown among, now beginning to miss them as he evoked them for Haldir.

Haldir watched Faramir as he spoke of Gondor and found himself staring at the sheer beauty of the mortal. Unlike the filthy humans he liked to chase and hunt outside the borders of the Golden Wood, those who had taught him that humans were a treacherous and unsophisticated race of savages, the man in front of him was simply exquisite. He had long dreamed of someone like Faramir on long border watches, waiting patiently for such a creature to cross his path (although he had always imagined it to be an Elf). It was his confidence that the one he waited for would finally appear in his life that kept him afloat in the middle of so many Elves who each had found their mate and their happiness. It was his certainty that his patience would be rewarded that kept him strong and uncaring of the other Elves feeling sorry for poor lonely Haldir, the same Elves who were talking behind his back and inventing all sorts of reasons why the handsome Marchwarden hadn’t found a mate in all his long life.

Coming out of the unhappy memories of loneliness and being pitied, Haldir focused on the one whose naked body felt so good close to his own at night, on the long, soft auburn curls which fell even lower than the broad, yet graceful shoulders. Faramir’s eyes had stolen his heart from the very moment he had gazed into them, and those full lips, which Faramir had the habit of biting too often, made Haldir wonder what a kiss would feel like, if they would be as soft as they looked.

Haldir realized he had been given a new chance, not just at life, but also at love. If he played his cards right and let the carefully built ice walls crumble around him, he would be rewarded with a lifetime of happiness. But he had to take it slow. He realized he didn’t even know how Faramir would feel about the prospect of loving and touching another male intimately. For Haldir it had never been a matter of choosing, as he had never, in his entire long life, thought he might desire a female companion. Suddenly panic took over him as he remembered having read that in Gondor relationships between mates of the same gender were severely punished.

Faramir saw the sudden shift in Haldir’s dreamy expression as the fair features shifted into panic and sadness.

“Dear Haldir, tell me what ails you and I’ll try and make it better. I hate to see a frown on your fair face.”

The words were spoken so softly, almost tenderly, and they gave Haldir the courage to ask:

“When you look at me, what do you see, Faramir?”

Faramir was terribly cornered by the question. He found himself blushing violently and his ranger skills had somehow deserted him…He was unable to control himself and appear calm and contained. He was sure he was going to embarrass himself beyond forgiveness in the eyes of the noble ancient creature, but sleeping naked and glued to him every night had become pure torture. And he had found himself thinking of giving himself to the Elf, wanting to touch him and to be touched in return.

Haldir was waiting, panic still written all over his face, so Faramir decided to go for broke and say what he felt. It had been so long since he had had a friend he could talk to, and he was sure that the ancient one would laugh at him first, then forgive and understand him.

“I find you beautiful unlike anything I have ever seen, fair Haldir. I find myself thinking of you all day long, wishing we didn’t have to be naked and so close together, and hating my low human nature which pushes me to think improper thoughts and to want to find out what your lips on mine would feel like…” He trailed off, confident that he had made a complete and utter idiot of himself and waiting to hear Haldir’s rumbling laughter.

He shut his eyes, feeling the blush extend even to the tips of his ears, thus missing the matching blush on Haldir’s face. He did feel the butterfly soft touch of lips on his own and he opened his eyes in disbelief. He saw Haldir bent over him, his silver hair hiding them from the world like a magic veil and he sighed blissfully, his arms sneaking around Haldir’s neck and pulling him close, at the same time opening up for him, granting him access into his mouth. He had forgotten how good it felt, but now that it was offered to him, he jumped in without thinking, greedily taking whatever Haldir would give him.

Haldir was gentle, almost hesitant, and the tenderness that flowed between them took them back to that one moment on the battle field when their hearts had spoken to each other and now they recognized the moment for what it had been, their destinies uniting and clicking into place, their lifelines weaving closely together.

He let Haldir be on top, mindful of the Elf’s injuries which were still far from healing, and whenever Haldir retreated, he would pull him back near him, his tongue coaxing reaction from the Elf’s, who tasted sweeter than any honey he had ever sampled.

As Haldir moved on top of him, he rubbed his belly over Faramir’s hard-on and the Elf stopped to giggle in a manner that didn’t speak of millennia of experience.

Breathless from his first kiss ever, Haldir couldn’t stop his giggling even as he asked: “Could it be that you want me, sweet Faramir?”

“Why do you ask that which is so obvious, breathtaking one? One would have to be dead to be insensitive to your charms, and blind to miss your sparkling beauty. Have you never been told so?” Faramir gasped, reaching down to grasp Haldir’s Elven flesh. He found it was rock-hard and leaking, and it felt so right in his hand!

Haldir nearly blacked out from the sensation of having another’s hand touch him there and he kissed Faramir more boldly, hoping this would disguise his complete surprise at the feeling, but he still couldn’t keep from moaning lustfully into the man’s mouth. Faramir was sweet indeed, and he had just made it very clear that he wanted him. Him, Haldir, whom everyone laughed at and dismissed to duty. Haldir, who never got invited to orgies because he didn’t have a mate, who was the target of Lady Galadriel’s public irony.

If things could escape his control even more, he doubted it. He now belonged to Faramir with his mind and soul because of the bond Elrond had sealed between them, and he wanted nothing more than to belong to Faramir with his body too and complete the bond, to make sure that Faramir was there to stay.

“Fair Haldir, stop torturing me thus and do not laugh at me…I know it is not noble of me to want this from you, but I cannot stop myself. I’m sorry.” Faramir pleaded.

Haldir smiled at him reassuringly and kissed him shortly before breathlessly pressing out:

“When Elrond bound me to a Man, I felt sorry for being left alive, but now my soul has recognized you and I know we were meant to be together. We Elves just know when we have found our mate, and I couldn’t have asked for or imagined another one braver, more noble or more beautiful than you. In all my long life I did not feel the need to belong to someone as I do to you, and never did I wish for anyone to take me and make me completely his as I feel now. So I am asking you my sweet Faramir, please make me yours.”

Upon realization of what the Elf wanted from him, memories of pain and blood from seven years ago came back to Faramir’s mind and tears ran freely down his cheeks. He knew he couldn’t do such a thing to a creature so lovely and beautiful as Haldir, even if he hadn’t been so severely injured as he was.

“I… I…Haldir, I cannot give you what you ask of me. I’ve only experienced it once and the pain was indescribable, I took months to heal from my internal and external injuries…I couldn’t do this to you, my beautiful love. I would however have you inside me, if you want me; I know a creature as fair and as magical as you cannot bring pain.”

Haldir was speechless. True, he was in actual fact a virgin, but he knew what good love was. Any Elfling was taught the art of lovemaking and the first lesson was always how to spare your loved one from any pain. Elves were very thorough in teaching their young ones how to heal and to give pleasure at an early age, because they were a liberal society and Elf couples were based on mutual love and trust. Rape and abuse were not known among the Elves, and that was why, whenever an Elf fell prey to such violation from members of another race, it faded as it could not accept the pain and the humiliation.

He decided it was best if he showed Faramir what he knew, as the young man was more than offering himself to Haldir as test material for what he had learned as an Elfling. He would make it so good for his love, that later Faramir would not get enough of repaying him in the same manner.

He smiled to Faramir, who was lying under him, waiting for his answer.

“I can smell healing salve somewhere in the room. Will you please fetch it for us, my love?” Haldir whispered seductively, caressing Faramir’s face as he moved off him to allow him to get up and fetch the salve.

Faramir fumbled around for the jar, but when he found it he looked at Haldir victoriously and to the Elf he appeared like a star fallen from the sky especially to light his lonely path. That smile, that beaming, hopeful smile on the man’s face gave him confidence and reassured him.

Haldir extended his arms to Faramir, beckoning him to join him back in bed and to put the salve near them on the nightstand, but before Faramir had a chance to climb into bed, Haldir told him to stop right where he was, a little further than an arm’s reach, and to slowly, agonizingly slowly turn around so he could feast his eyes on the complete picture of white skin stretched on strong feline muscles.

Faramir had never spent more time naked than it had been required, always protecting himself from the cold, and now he felt terribly objectified to be standing there naked, with nothing to hide behind, especially since he could feel a set of greedy Elf eyes trailing his every line, curve and ridge.

“Raise your arms a bit, further away from your body!” Haldir instructed, settling himself between the pillows more comfortably. First on the to-do list was making his lover confident in his charms, so he would be perfectly aware of the worth of every caress and touch on his body, so later he would do the same for his mate.

He looked greedily at the lithe body in front of him, noting that Faramir was even whiter than Aragorn, who was quite fair under the dirt he always wore as a mystery-cloak, from reasons which escaped Haldir’s understanding and which – he was sure – made Legolas’ nose wrinkle in disgust every time he had to see his lover naked. But Faramir was sparkling clean and his skin was flawless and almost as white as his own.

The skin, which Haldir planned to have thoroughly caressed and re-sensitized once he laid hands on it, was covering long, powerful, feline muscles which rippled with every small movement of their owner. His gaze trailed possessively over the soft hair, the broad shoulders, the slightly arched back, strong but lean, the narrow waist and lower… the sweet, firm butt with narrow hips and long legs continuing downwards, covered not in fur like other men’s, but in a soft down of barely visible golden hairs.

“Turn around, slowly…no, slower. Be aware of the torment you cause, of the power it gives you over me, as I lay here mesmerized and grow impossibly harder only at the prospect of seeing you, my love! Yes, Faramir, gods yes!” Haldir said slowly letting his hand snake down to his lap from where an aching erection jutted upward. He didn’t touch himself though, letting his hand trace the outline of his elfhood but not really touching.

As Faramir turned, Haldir took in the delicious blush on his mate’s face and his shy smile. Again, he was biting into those soft full lips of his, making them even redder than usual, and Haldir had a very life-like image of what those lips would look wrapped snugly around his cock. His gaze trailing lower, he marveled at the lack of hair on the mortal’s chest, but he knew that things would not be the same in two years. He took in the beautifully sculpted pectorals and the small rosy nipples which had become taut from the exposure and from the cool air of the room, the defined abdominals and the retracted belly, on which only the hint of a trail of blond hairs led down to what Haldir contentedly discovered to be a member which could have shamed even a Rohan horse. He congratulated himself for deciding to show Faramir what tenderness meant before he would be breached by that monster. Humans were known to be larger than Elves in that respect, but Faramir was larger than Haldir could comprehend. Faramir’s thighs were arched only the slightest bit, his legs straight and long, not bow-shaped like those of the Rohirrim.

Licking his lips and eager to speed things up a little, Haldir told Faramir to approach the bed and stand near its edge, which his shy lover did immediately. As Haldir crawled over to him, they exchanged looks of love and trust, and Faramir closed his eyes as he felt Haldir’s lips close over the tip of his cock.

Haldir enjoyed the clean scent and slightly salty taste of his lover, turned on even more by the intimacy of what he was doing, and he decided to make this experience a pleasant one for the both of them. Slowly, gradually, he took more of the young man’s cock into his mouth and he heard Faramir gasp and plead with him not to stop, feeling Faramir’s hands tunnel through his hair, not guiding him, just caressing and he was grateful. He wasn’t prepared to swallow his lover’s huge cock just yet.

When Faramir was slick enough, Haldir kneeled up on the bed and pressed his body close to Faramir’s, sinking his fingers into the firm flesh of his lover’s buttocks and straddling his cock, nestling it in the sweat-slick tight space between his upper thighs. His own hard cock was crushed between their bodies, dripping a clear trail of fluid over Faramir’s belly and he urged Faramir to grab his butt also. When he felt unsure hands plant themselves on his rounded backside, he began to drive his hips forward, backwards, and then forward again, making his body slide over Faramir’s cock. As soon as the young one took the hint, he began to bounce Haldir over his cock to his own rhythm of choice and soon he bent forward slightly to be able to kiss Haldir and swallow his moans.

Haldir briefly thought what they were doing felt better than it looked in the educational scrolls. He tightened his inner thigh muscles more and brought his knees even closer together, to give Faramir more friction and as he did so, the fingers splayed over his buttocks dug in even tighter and he was pulled closer against Faramir’s body. As they drove madly one against the other, they both came to a completion never before experienced, since it was full of meaning for both of them.

The result, however, was far from romantic, but rather messy and sticky, and Faramir wanted to move away and find a cloth to wipe them clean, but Haldir looked into his eyes with something akin to narcotic bliss and he bent down to lick Faramir’s belly and chest clean, his hands everywhere at the same time on Faramir’s over-sensitized skin, one of them effectively milking the spent human length of the last drop of thick fluid.

By the time he was done, he had hardened anew and now Faramir’s gasps and moans were covered by rumbles of the nature outside. A storm was approaching and thunder could be heard in the horizon.

Wishing this to be a once-in-a lifetime experience for his frightened lover, Haldir grabbed the jar of salve and whispered to Faramir:

“Help me get to the balcony. I shall take you outside and test your trust.” His eyes glittered wildly with undisguised lust for the mortal, and Faramir shuddered. “I want to see you trust me with your safety and with your very life.” Haldir finished and let Faramir pick him up and effortlessly carry him to the balcony.

Once there, Faramir put him down and they stood for a moment, facing each other and breathing heavily under the spell of the moment. As rain began to pour in big sloppy drops over the whole world, they closed in on each other and began to kiss anew, slowly, languidly, their hands now more confident as they roamed the other’s body.

Haldir even noted that the more he gave of himself, of his patience and tenderness to Faramir, the more strength returned to his weakened body. He also felt a state of harmony unknown to him before then, triggered by the assent he could read in his mate’s eyes. Faramir was frightened, he could sense that, but the young mortal wanted to put his fear aside and he really trusted Haldir.

As they kissed, Haldir opened the jar of salve and generously coated his fingers, letting a hand stray lower on Faramir’s back, tickling and teasing his skin with feather touches, straying towards the small of his back but never really descending to the cleft of the tight butt. His other hand was only brushing the young one’s cock and his lips had retreated so as to complete the teasing on his lover’s senses.

Haldir felt the rain with every cell on his skin and knew that the kind of stimulation he was giving Faramir was making the human feel the exact same things as he did, but the young one was pushing into his hands and searching for his mouth, moaning in frustration as Haldir made him work for every touch. Rocking back and forth, leaning over to get to those full Elven lips, Faramir unconsciously spread his legs more, assuming a position which now allowed Haldir to trace the cleft at the lower part of his back with one salve-slick finger, drawing lazy circles over the hidden, vulnerable skin. Faramir whimpered at the intruding touch, bitter memories of Boromir’s touches paralyzing his senses for a while, until Haldir took his lips with his own and gently thrust his tongue into the Man’s mouth, enacting what he was planning for later.

Faramir wanted to let go and let himself feel, and he wanted to trust the Elf, but the memories kept him from completely surrendering to the beautiful warrior. It was the memory of pleasure intertwined with pain so closely that made Faramir fear what he knew lay ahead.

Thanks to the strengthening bond, Haldir caught a glimpse of his lover’s mind and knew what the key was to make Faramir unwind.

As the rain poured in large amounts over them, soaking them and assaulting their senses, the drops so abundant they could hardly take their panting breaths, Haldir tenderly kissed Faramir’s neck as he let his finger gain access to his lover’s body. He didn’t allow discomfort or even surprise to settle in Faramir’s mind, instead he plunged his finger deeper and stroked lazily, searching for the fireworks spot he knew he would find there. As Faramir arched towards him, moaning in shocked delight and closing his eyes, Haldir knew he’d found it. As he added a second finger to the intrusion, his hand on Faramir’s cock grabbed more of the erect shaft, so the extra touch diverted the Man’s attention from any pain…

But Faramir was way beyond pain now. Haldir’s fingers were long and slender, his touch languid and skilled, and Faramir assumed it was because his lover was an Elf and in his mind Elves were magical healing creatures.

“Haldir…Ai, magic Haldir, you make me forget myself and all my promises in the past. I pledge myself to you now for as long as the Valar grant us.” He barely managed to utter between moans, distantly registering that Haldir now had three fingers inside him and virtually being reduced to quivering silence as the fingers grazed over his inner spot, as the Elf’s other hand kept milking his shaft patiently, sadistically slow.

They were a strange oasis of relative stillness in the middle of the roaring storm, which was, in exchange, mirrored in the inner storm of sensations they were both traversing.

Haldir was feeling a trance never before experienced, sensing his lover’s body molding itself to his, more and more, closer, moving faster and more erratically. He then knew the time was right and gently retrieved his fingers from the warm body of his mate, placing both his hands of the tight hips of the Man and backing him until Faramir’s butt touched the edge of the thin metal railing which bordered the terrace.

With part of his Elven strength having returned to his muscles, he lifted Faramir until he had him propped against the railing and then moved his hands lower on his lover’s thighs, silently guiding him to wrap those lean legs around him.

Faramir placed his hands on Haldir’s shoulders and waited, his eyes half shut, glazed with desire now and with trust. He knew Haldir wouldn’t hurt him, he had seen the long slender and elegant elfhood at the top of its arousal and it had made him lick his lips instead of recoiling in fear. This had to pass between them, as he had made a promise to link himself to Haldir so the mighty Elf could live. He belonged to the Elf and his heart had known it in a mere glimpse, on the battlefield. Now his body had finally let itself be convinced to acknowledge that too.

Haldir trembled and felt humble as, upon entering his lover for the first time in all his life, Faramir’s body received him as if he had always belonged there, as if they had been made to fit tightly together like a sword and its sheath. He’d never thought that warm tightness could exist, that it could be so life-threateningly warm and tight. He slid upwards until he was buried into his lover ball-deep and he could move no further, causing Faramir to throw his head back in abandon and scream his name into the storm.

They took one tortured breath before allowing themselves to face the onslaught of sensation. Their bodies were slick with rain and sweat, fingers were digging deeply into hips and back, fearing that the fragile railing would give way and they would fall into the abyss below. The railing creaked and moved as Haldir thrust just the slightest bit, Faramir’s body constricting around him painfully, which suddenly brought the Elf over the edge from such a long period of rein over desire. His creamy hot seed coated Faramir’s inner walls and as Haldir moved to pull out, the body around him got even tighter and he felt himself harden again as Faramir’s body relaxed completely in his grip, his lover’s hands slipping from his shoulders, which made Faramir dangle upside down over the precipice below. His only support were Haldir’s hands firmly planted on his hips and his legs, wrapped tightly around the Elf’s waist.

Haldir howled his impossible arousal to the angry skies and began to drive himself forward in wild abandon, not really caring if they lived or died as long as they were united so completely. As he moved to a simmering, deliberately slow but forceful rhythm, the railing kept creaking louder, more threatening, but the only thing he could focus on was Faramir’s body, arched before him like a tight-drawn bow, muscles rippling under the wet skin, thick human cock swollen and seeping, so hard as if it would explode under his very astonished eyes.

“Trust yourself to me with your life, give me your soul and your body,” he managed to press out loud enough for the Man to hear, uttering his phrase one word per thrust, as he could not spare enough breath to separate the two, “Mighty warrior, let us become one in life or in death. My sweet Faramir…come with me now!”

Faramir could only place his whole faith into the Elf’s strength, faced with the imperative to trust those strong hands on his hips, needing to hope that there was salvation for him in his life and that it was being offered to him freely. His whole life, lived in fear and darkness and in doubt, passed before him and he suddenly felt a jolt of golden light flooding dark memories with its glow, and in the very core of that light, he saw his faer and Haldir’s dancing together in a tight embrace before they mingled and became one.

Haldir watched as Faramir’s body quivered and felt it clench rhythmically around him, his lover shuddering with every muscle and wailing his release as he came, his death-like wail covering the sound of the storm for a moment in Haldir’s hearing. He had lost himself completely into their death-inviting union, and had caught a fleeting glimpse, feeling more than seeing as his faer called Faramir’s close and they became one in a frenzied dance.

Feeling his knees were finally giving in, he moved away from the edge of the balcony and pulled his lover with him to safety. They were both soaked in rain, but their bodies glittered with a magical sheen that even Haldir marveled at. He pulled Faramir close to him, lifting him to his chest without leaving his body and struggled to make it to the bed, where he let himself fall and, curling protectively around his passed-out lover, he fell asleep, at the end of his stamina.

Elrond gasped when he entered the room where the Gondorian Captain and the Marchwarden were resting. Not believing his eyes, he came closer and looked at the two. Haldir’s wounds had healed completely overnight, his skin as fair and flawless as if he had never been injured. His hair was spread around him on the pillow and under Faramir’s head, as the son of Gondor slept resting his head on the Elf’s shoulder. They were both naked and what was more incredible was that both their bodies glowed with a white light that shone from within. Elrond frowned. This was very rare even among immortals and he would have given a great deal to find out what had passed between the two and moreover, how it had passed, since he was now looking not at one fading Elf and his mortal rescuer, but at two immortals. And the Valar only knew what other magic had been released. Had it to do with the storm? How could it have been that Faramir had been granted the right to live forever by Haldir’s side, when normal bonds didn’t function like that, but merely supposed the two mates were depending on each other for their common well-being?

Elrond was a cautious Elf and he wanted to investigate deeper. But, before allowing panic to creep in other people’s lives too, he decided to head for the library, to see if the Rohirrim had any Elven scrolls which talked about rare bonds and their effects.

One thing was obvious though, Elrond grinned sheepishly at himself. Those two had definitely gotten further acquainted… it wasn’t just the speedy healing of Haldir’s wounds that spoke of it, but also their contented smiles as they lay in sleep, and the way they held each other close as if to say it was the two of them against all of Middle Earth.

Ah, love… Elrond remembered he needed to be in his seneschal’s arms at that impossible hour of the morning. After all, what the hell was he doing roaming the halls of Edoras like a ghost at that time?

He woke up and looked over at his perfect lover. The Elf slept peacefully on one side, facing him. Faramir felt so overcome with love and devotion for the magical being in his arms that his every cell tingled and he felt the need to do something, he couldn’t say what exactly, but he wanted to make sure Haldir felt all his love. Never had he felt the need to trust himself completely to another, and never again had it felt like an act of power, not like one of weakness.

He reached out to the Elf with one hand and tenderly stroked the stray locks out of the fair one’s face. And then a small miracle happened, only for him; those cobalt electric eyes opened and looked into his soul as Haldir stretched lazily and said: “Good morning!”, taking Faramir’s exploring hand and turning it over, to kiss its palm. Then, just as lazily as he had awoken, he sucked two of the slender white fingers into his mouth and he began to flicker his tongue over them. This simple gesture sent lightning up and down the man’s spine and he let himself fall limp and pliant into the Elf’s guiding embrace. Haldir pulled him close and began to rub his hips and groin against Faramir’s slowly, like a cat in heat, even as he began to run his fingers through the man’s hair and shower him with kisses.

Floating high on a cloud of booming happiness, Faramir heard himself utter words he’d never thought he’d want to say: “My magic Haldir, my love, I could never do justice with words to the love and pleasure you’ve made me feel last night in the rain. I would live my short days and end them joyfully if every one of them had you loving me thus in it, and I can only hope that one day you’d want me to take you as well, as you have shown me there can be love without pain! My Haldir, how I love you!”

When Haldir spoke, he didn’t trust his voice too much, as it had caught in his throat from the deep emotions his mate’s words had stirred in him. He would never have guessed that he had succeeded so well in curing Faramir’s fear of past pain. He had, however, given his virginity and his whole heart to his mate, with no reserve or suspicion, but with utmost trust and love. He could only have dreamt of Faramir ever wanting to reciprocate and seal the bond forever.

“Do not be afraid, my heart, for I want to give myself to you maybe more than you wish to take me. And I do not fear pain, for I would gladly take whatever you have to give me and it would feel like the sweetest bliss…”

Faramir’s heart stopped upon realization that Haldir was uttering the same pleading words he himself had spoken to Boromir on the night when he had asked him to make love to him. He thus knew that Haldir’s words were honest, that he didn’t fear pain, but now Faramir also knew that there was a way to make his lover enjoy their union and not feel pain from it, thanks again to his miraculous elven mate.

He sat up and looked at his Elf, suddenly wondering why he had been so foolishly apprehensive to be the taker for once, he who had no restraints in slaying Orcs by the hundreds, emerging from battle victorious but covered in foul blood and guts. He understood that taking Haldir meant just as much as giving himself to his wonderful lover and in the end it was the same: an act of complete love and trust.

Smiling resolutely, more to himself than for Haldir to see, Faramir leaned back down and sweetly kissed Haldir until the Elf struggled for breath, which he had to take from Faramir, and when they parted the Elf was panting, aroused, realization of Faramir’s decision dawning on him. The man’s hands played with the Elf’s unbraided hair, they stroked delicate curves of shoulders, arms and torso, then came back up to bestow the lightest of caresses to peaked nipples. Faramir marveled at how obvious the desire to surrender was in his Elf and he knew that he would not be able to deny him anything, ever.

All the while, as he nipped and kissed alabaster skin, he whispered words of endearment, words he had not spoken in long years since Boromir had so lovingly taken him, but the phrase “magic Haldir” came back over and over, the Elf’s skin, his taste, his voice, his hair – all equally enchanting to the man. As he bent down to take Haldir’s aroused member into his mouth, he heard his lover gasp:

“Nay, my love, do not prolong my torture so! I wish for you to be within me soon, before I am forever claimed by madness.”

However, Faramir didn’t obey him at once, not moving from his task until after having tasted the sweet dew seeping from his lover’s slit. Fumbling around for the jar of salve, he slicked his fingers generously and proceeded to prepare his lover, given his size and the tightness he found between the Elf warrior’s buttocks. Slowly, gently, he waited until his four fingers could all slide easily into Haldir, stretching and relaxing him. Curious to see if the spot he knew was within him was a shared feature with Elf males, he crooked his fingers and searched for it, eliciting an agonized plea from his lover upon encounter of said spot.

Haldir felt his body arch up and off the bed and he writhed, squirmed and twisted, not in pain, but in pleasure and in love for the one who was taking his own patience to lengths unheard of to make his first time painless and pleasant.

Seeing the responses his fingers were coaxing from his gorgeous lover, Faramir could no longer think of pain and consequences as he took himself in hand and, removing his fingers, he replaced them with his aching erection, pressing tentatively at first, hissing with sharp pleasure when the head of his member breached past the muscled entrance and into the welcoming heat. Looking down at his mate’s face for any sign of pain, he saw nothing but sheer ecstasy and he hated himself all the more for denying his lover that kind of pleasure when he had first asked for it. Haldir’s legs wrapped around his waist and tugged, and the full lips uttered:
“Yes, love. More.”

All Faramir could do was oblige, letting his member be engulfed by the tight velvety heat and shuddering at the intensity of it, of their union which was finally completing as his lover’s body adjusted to him and he began to move, encouraged by Haldir’s hips rocking back into him, pulling him deeper inside.

He ground his hips against Haldir’s buttocks and squirmed, moving his member inside Haldir so as to hit and graze over his sweet spot, but not really thrusting in and out. His body wanted to lose control at one point, but he continued to move within his lover without actually moving away from him, keeping his hypnotic pace slow and deep, watching, awed and humbled, as pleasure wracked the perfect elven body beneath him. Keeping his pace slow, he managed to make their union last long, longer than most men could manage, and Haldir felt that his immortal soul was about to give in to the flood of bliss he was feeling. Again, they both felt their faers join in a dance, and they both reached their peak at the same moment, tightly joined and holding each other, not wanting to ever let go.

Feeling his lover’s hot seed pulse inside of him, Haldir’s tears flowed freely on his cheeks, finally realizing the gift his precious Faramir had given him, going over a lifetime lived in fear and self-doubt to give him pleasure he had never known before, the kind of pleasure he only wished to share with his true mate in all his life.

Feeling hot drops onto his face, Haldir opened his eyes and glanced up at Faramir, who was crying also, and in that moment everything was revealed to him, all the humiliation Faramir had endured from his father, and the one moment of love in the arms of the most improbable lover of all, his brother Boromir. It was Haldir’s turn to feel humble, knowing that he would most likely have faded had he been subjected to half the sorrow his lover had been through.

Swept by the ever rising tide of pleasure, the two lovers got lost in each other, both of them passing from consciousness for a few quite long moments before coming back to the world of senses, only to enjoy the feel of their entwined bodies so close and so sticky, laying together and slowly becoming aware of the world around them, of the sun rays coming in through the window.

A new day had come, the beginning of a new age for both of them. Faramir carefully slipped from his lover’s body, and Haldir felt incapable to move at that time, immersed in the most enduring feeling of peace and completion, actually feeling their bond still glowing inside him.

Faramir cuddled close to his mate, not before pulling a thick blanket over them both, and they lay like that, whispering sweet loving words to each other and almost drifting off to sleep when Elrond, Glorfindel, Aragorn and Legolas came into their room, alarmed and looking around as if in search of an unknown enemy. Faramir lazily looked at them fussing, but tightened his grip on his mate.

“Glorfindel and Legolas have both sensed the unleashing of great magic in the palace and their instincts drew them here.” Elrond said, his tone genuinely worried.

Coming closer to the two freshly-bonded, Glorfindel looked long and searchingly into their eyes, then removed the coverlet to gaze in awe at Haldir’s naked, sparkling body. He reached out his hand and caressed Haldir’s belly and smiled widely.

“Whaat? Tell us, Glorfindel, is there something wrong?” Legolas sounded worried and curious.

Faramir was lost. What were the Elves fussing about? He had just made love to Haldir and Haldir was glowing. Aside from love and pride, he didn’t sense there was need for other feelings to occupy the foreground of consciousness right then.

“What is it, Glorfindel? What do you sense? Is it a threat?” Elrond inquired calmly.

Glorfindel could only keep caressing Haldir’s belly in fascination for a while before he spoke:

“It is very rare and I have only seen it once in the first age, when I was very young.”

“Well, tell us what we are faced with!” Legolas said, impatient.

It was Aragorn who figured it out, watching the blond seneschal move his hand over Haldir’s belly in a way he had also seen men do with their wives when…

“Since Elrond’s seneschal is too thrilled to speak, I shall voice my own guess and he will no doubt correct me if I am wrong. First of all, Faramir, I wish to present you my congratulations.” Aragorn began.

Faramir nodded in sign of acquiescence, assuming the King meant to congratulate him for finally completing the bond with the wonderful Elf in his arms.

“If you were troubled by the issue of heirs for the house of the Steward, Faramir…” Aragorn said, his smile widening as he spoke, “now your days of worry are over. Haldir now bears your heir, Faramir.”

Glorfindel only nodded, smiling and bending down to kiss Haldir’s forehead.

Legolas paled in shock and Elrond frowned.

Haldir stuttered, for the first time in his long life:

”H-h-how can this be, my lord? I am a male, I am not meant to be a…a… mother. Am I the only one seeing the ridicule of this? I am a warrior, not a wife. How could this be?”

Glorfindel spoke, caressing Haldir’s right temple soothingly: “Fear not, brave one, for this is a rare miracle even among Elves. But it is possible, if the love which binds you two together is strong, that your faer engulfs your lover’s seed and protects it into a cocoon of light, giving it the strength to grow inside you and feed off you. You will make a beautiful mother, Haldir, worry not, and you’ll have Faramir forever by your side, as your bond has granted him immortality as well.”

Panic flashed across Haldir’s face for a second, then it was chased by curiosity and then by joy. He bowed his head and said: “I will accept whatever eccentricity the Valar have placed upon me, as long as I have my mate’s assent.” And turning to Faramir to look him in the eyes, he asked: “My love, what say you?”

Faramir needed to reassure his lover and he did so by saying: “I am proud and blessed to be your mate, and I think you’ll make a wonderful mother. Lord Glorfindel is right. And while I am happy I’ve been granted the right to be with you forever, I pledge to you here, taking these Elves and this King of Men as my witnesses, to be by your side forever and to help, support and cherish you until this world shall end.” He then kissed the overwhelmed Elf and pulled him closer into his arms, protectively and possessively and kept whispering his endearment of choice to Haldir as the others left them alone to their new happiness.

As Glorfindel took his hand and they made their way down the corridor toward their room, Elrond felt that Middle-Earth was once again a land of burgeoning hope. As if reading his mind, Glorfindel said:
“Aye, love is truly the greatest healing balm of all.”

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