Faramir Fiction Archive

In the Name of Curiosity (R)

Written by Malinorne

18 September 2010 | 2368 words

By: Malinorne
Beta: Mary Aseltyne
Pairing: Galadriel/Faramir, Éowyn/Celeborn
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Thranduil is Tolkien’s, the rest comes from my imagination. No money made.
Summary: Galadriel is preparing to sail west, but before she leaves Middle-earth, there is something she has to do…

Author’s notes: Written for the 2007 Screw Yule Celebration 2007 at Little Balrog in answer to the Ultimate Elf Swap challenge (take two canon pairings and have them swap partners).
Feedback: Please write to to thaladir@yahoo.com or use the comment form below

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‘How perfect for a bath.’

Ithilien was truly a garden and worth the travel by itself, Galadriel thought as she looked at the waterfall that poured like heavy rain into the pool at her feet, and with such force that it created bubbles. There was no hint of the balcony-like cave she knew lay behind it, no sound of the man she sensed was regarding her with curiosity. She felt her own expectation rising as she made her way to the entrance, skillfully avoiding the traps that still remained along the path.

She spotted him immediately, a dark figure outlined against the thin mesh of water that camouflaged the cave. Apparently, Faramir, former captain, now a prince, still favoured his old ranger uniform of greens and browns.

“I did not know Lórien had territorial claims on this side of the Anduin,” he said when she came closer.

“Not on the land,” she replied, dropping her cloak to reveal her sinful state of undress underneath. This elicited an appreciating whistle from him, despite his hesitation to take her words seriously. Then she quickly closed the distance between them, making him involuntarily take a step backwards. She followed, smiling enticingly, backing him towards the curtain of water until he had to stand still for fear of losing his balance and falling into the abyss below. He smelt of leather and the hairs on his unshaved cheeks and chin tickled her as she snuggled up to him. He stood frozen as a rock. She could hear the clapping sound of his heart.

“Breathe,” she spoke into his ear. He chuckled uneasily, but did not move, not even when her sleek fingers began to trail all over his body, opening a button here and a lace there. Only when she closed her fingers around his stiffening private parts did he react.

“I… I do not wish to betray my wife,” he said.

“That is why I chose you, my shy prince. I have no wish to steal, only to borrow… we have only this once. I will neither linger here, nor haunt you in your dreams.”

She did not wait for his reply, but sank to her knees in front of him and used her mouth in a fashion that would melt his resistance faster than any words. As expected, it appeased him. His listless response turned into raging lust faster than she would have thought possible, and he soon buried his fists in her golden locks. When she rose, he led her to a berth in the back of the cave, where he worshipped her naked body with his fingers as well as his mouth.

The feeling of his coarse stubble against the silky insides of her thighs made her laugh at first, but soon his swirling tongue made her first hold her breath, then howl and writhe. He realized that his attempts to hold her down were futile and when she tugged at a wisp of his hair, he was more than willing to proceed. She welcomed him with such eagerness that he only seemed to last for a minute, despite all efforts to the contrary. He was happy to notice the very satisfied smile on her face.

“My lady, I should not ask… but… why?” She laughed and placed a kiss on his sweaty forehead.

“Curiosity, my lord Faramir. The time of the elves is drawing to an end, and I did not wish to leave these lands without having experienced a mortal man.” His eyes did not leave her mouth as she licked the salty drops from them.

“Then I hope you did not find any fault with me, that I could give you what you were looking for.”

“All I had hoped for.” She did not wish to reward his kindness by seeing him humiliated, if only in his own eyes. Adequate, she thought to herself. Pleasant enough, but I am content to know that my faithfulness to the Silver Tree has not been unrewarded.

Éowyn hoped that her husband would not be too bored while she was on her shopping tour to Minas Tirith. She knew that he liked to spend times like that alone in his old waterfall hideout, but would have preferred if some of his friends were with him, even if he had told her that he what he sought there, above all, was rest from social responsibilities.

Her day at the market had been successful – she had bought the slippers and clay pots for her kitchen she had been looking for, as well as a deck of cards beautifully decorated with unicorns. There had been other designs as well; she had almost picked the one with little lilac birds, which the seller assured her were called hummingbirds. For Faramir, she had bought the three scrolls he had requested, as well as a wooden counting device, a novelty referred to as a ‘computer’.

One unpleasant incident had occurred; she had overheard a couple of merchants discussing the possibility of acquiring Haradrim slaves. They had been gone before she could confront them, but thinking about it filled her with zeal and fury, and it was something she planned to bring to the king’s attention already the next day.

For now, she was content to rest in her favourite inn at the lowest level of the city, close to the great gates. The guest suite of the Citadel was comfortable enough, but she enjoyed the privacy of anonymity. Here, nobody lifted an eyebrow if she sampled the same delicacy twice, or if all she had for dinner was this spice cake with lemon jelly on top. She took another piece, enjoying its zest, and thought of trying the cheesecake, too. Or maybe the mushrooms? Frog meat was overly exotic, she decided. While she contemplated her choices, she took another sip of wine, and then let out a yawn.

“My lady, I do hope you are not planning to retire already?” The voice of the tall stranger suddenly standing by her table startled her.

“Excuse me?” she said as he put his glass down on the table and sat beside her with a familiarity that would not have been odd in Edoras, but contrasted starkly with the more formal customs of Gondor’s capital.. “I do not believe we know… oh… Lord Celeborn, is it?” He nodded.

“The very same, my lady.” He lifted his glass in salute.

“Just call me Éowyn, please.”

“In that case, Éowyn, I do not wish to hear any mention of ‘lords’ either.” She nodded and they drank to the dropping of titles.

“What brings you here?” she asked. “You are far away from home.”

“My dear wife had an errand.” She knew that was not polite to be overly curious, but something in his expression told her that he wanted her to ask.

“What kind of errand was that?” He leaned closer and whispered into her ear. She looked at him with disbelief. He winked conspiratorially and smiled.

“Would you like some more wine?” She nodded. The thought that the high lady of the woods would look for a lover was quite scandalous. The notion that her husband apparently saw nothing wrong with it was even more so. She would never…

Her companion began telling her jokes and she laughed, and they had more to drink. Some of the jokes were of such nature that he had to whisper them into her ear. The dirty words tickled her more than she wanted to admit even to herself, and she thought she would never tire of listening to his resonant voice.

It may have been the wine, or feeling the heat from his body so close to her, or a combination of both, but her thoughts soon began to wander back to his wife’s errand. What would that be like, to make love to another man? Maybe… him?

She studied the elf beside her in a new light. Was he not looking at her in a strange way? Somewhat bold, even… lewd? The idea made her blush and lower her gaze, where it fell on his lap. Just as fast she looked him in the face again. She could not believe she had seen what she thought she had seen below his belly. It was probably just the way his billowing robe had fallen when he sat down. Her mind was too dirty, and yet she was curious…

At that moment he lifted her fingers to his lips and grazed them with a kiss. First it was nothing more than any gentleman could do out of courtesy, but then suddenly let his tongue dart out. Then again, when she did not discourage it. Acting on an impulse, she brought her face close to his and gave him a quick peck, aimed at his cheek, but that ended up on his mouth. He put his arms around her and pulled her onto his lap.

The sudden realization that the thing that was pressing against her buttocks was not a fold of his clothing caused her to hop, but then she settled back again. It was a quite pleasant feeling, nearly dizzying. She took another sip of wine as he moved her hair to the side and kissed her neck. Tentatively she leaned forward, spreading her thighs a little, which brought her in even more proximity with his engorged member. She found that she could cause very pleasant sensations to herself – and, apparently him as well – by rubbing against it.

“Éowyn…” His voice was husky, and the knowledge that she had caused him to sound like that made her feel powerful and triumphant. She stopped her motion and turned to look at him. His eyes were nearly black, and he appeared even more attractive than she had noticed before.

“Yes? Ce-le-born.” She pronounced the name with great care to get it right, and his warm smile made her giggly.

“Am I correct that you have a room here?” His shifted his arms around her so that one palm came to cup the underside of her breast, and the other rested between her thighs. She squirmed a little, and giggled again. “Do you?” he asked, whispering into her ear and marking his words with a nibble to her earlobe. “Because if you would like to visit this establishment in the future, I believe it would be better if we went somewhere else. The people of Gondor are so narrow-minded.”

This time she understood what he meant, and what they had already begun to do. It made her completely sober. She scrambled off his lap and was serious when she spoke next, now from the relatively safe position of standing in front of him.

“I have never been with another man,” she said quietly. “Neither before my wedding day, nor after.”

“You would not,” he replied, equally serious, but he pulled her closer so that she stood between his knees. “I am not a man,” he added with a wink and a grin that made her feel giggly and tingly again.

“Come,” she said and then turned to swiftly lead the way, before she could change her mind.

By the time they reached the room, she was panting hard and, as soon as he had entered, she bolted the door.

“What now?” Suddenly, she felt insecure again, not about her decision – her mind was set – but how to not disappoint him with her inexperience.

“Come here,” he said calmly, as he sat down on a wide chair. She climbed onto his lap once more, and they resumed their earlier actions. Her dress came off in the process, and then she straddled him, placing them face to face. She kissed him hungrily, caressing his ears and chest and shoulders – all that she could reach. His fingers delved further down, exploring new territory at the same pace as she made it available.

Nearly delirious with want, she pulled at his clothing and was pleased to find that his robes could easily be parted, to give her access to his smooth chest and belly, and then… oh. She let out a sound of astonishment.

“Do not worry,” he told her. “If you want me, it will fit.” His reassurance made her giggle again. It was so unusual to talk about such things.

“You are very different.”

“You are not so unlike an elf-woman,” he replied, teasing a nipple with his thumb and index finger. She gasped and had to swallow hard before she could speak again.

“Does that… disappoint you?”

“Never. Your company is a gift to be treasured.” She tried to hold his gaze as she felt him guiding his member into her, but the sensation was too intense and she had to close her eyes. She opened them when he began to move. The grin on his face as she caught on to his rhythm, first slowly, then faster, was well worth looking at. She felt as if she was flying. Better than riding an entire flock of mearas!

Later that evening, Galadriel came to the same inn. She and her husband spent the remainder of the night remembering why sharing one’s body for the sake of satisfying a carnal appetite was pleasant enough, but could never compare to the sharing of minds and a life lived together.

The amorous sounds from their room woke up Éowyn, who suddenly felt a strong longing for her husband. She decided that her planned meeting with the queen could wait until the next time she came to Minas Tirith, but now she wanted to go home to Faramir and let him benefit from her curiosity.

THE END

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