Faramir Fiction Archive

Love is... (NC-17)

Written by Sairalinde and Anorienbean

19 November 2009 | 145965 words

Chapter 2

“What is your name and why were you in my palantir?”

“I didn’t think to defeat you at all…” Faramir had muttered. Before he could answer, the man’s hands continued to roam and Faramir’s body, despite his fear of the wizard, began to react to a warm, handsome man touching him. He swallowed hard, and then at the murmuring of the dark man he felt his skin tingle even more from the touch, and his desire to be touched seemed to almost overwhelm him. “My… oh…” Faramir was so distracted by the other man’s hands it took him a moment to even remember his own name, “my name is Faramir, I am Captain of the Ithilian Rangers and… and I do not know why. I know what a palantir is… it is one of the lost seeing stones. The Dark Lord uses them to spy… are you one of Sauron’s spies? You… you don’t strike me as one of his spies… far too… handsome.” Faramir was babbling and couldn’t stop himself from saying those things as if he were spellbound and perhaps… he was?

Laughing softly, Lord Rahl lowered the man – Faramir – to the floor almost gently. His spells were quick and efficient, and though no one had ever really wanted him of their own volition, he could almost always make himself believe they did when they looked at him like Faramir was looking at him now. He’d been too caught up in this thoughts to notice that the man had responded before he’d cast the spell, though he wouldn’t have believed it if he had. “Rangers? I do not know of this Ithilian, but I am the only Dark Lord you will find here.” A wizard sending a potential assassin had unnerved him, but a spying ‘dark lord’ held no such power. There were few wizards as powerful as Rahl, and he feared only one of them. Besides, his precious palantir had shown him no other Lord to cause him worry – only the damnable Seeker and his ridiculous wizard Zeddicus. He moved closer, until their lips were nearly touching. “I think you pose no threat, Faramir, and will perform quite nicely the duties I have planned for you.” His fingers curled in Faramir’s hair and he pulled the man’s head back slightly so he could run his lips over the exposed skin. “You want to kiss me, do you not? In fact, you can barely keep yourself from doing it even now, when you think I might be one of your Sauron-spies.” Tracing his tongue over Faramir’s bottom lip, he drew in a breath and held it. “I will grant you that honor, Faramir, since you want it so badly.”

If Faramir had desired this man before, now he practically craved him like one would a powerful drug. His eyes widened when the man referred to himself as a dark lord and swallowed hard. Each time the man’s breath ghosted across his skin, he shivered and when heated lips moved against him, Faramir gasped. His own hands wanted to touch, slowly they raised to brush over smooth sweat slick skin of the man’s bare arms. Gods, his muscles felt so good under his hands. “Oh please,” Faramir found himself begging as the man spoke of a kiss. He leaned forward and brushed his lips lightly against the soft ones before him. Then the kiss was not his to control any longer, he moaned as the dark man claimed his mouth forcefully. Gods, yes… want him so much!

The man tasted surprisingly sweet, Rahl thought, before forcing his tongue past soft lips and into the depths of Faramir’s mouth. The brush of hands over his arms caused him to moan into the kiss and push Faramir roughly back against the wall. His fingers tangled harder in long, dark hair, and he didn’t allow his soon to be lover to move, instead holding him perfectly still as he feasted on his most attractive slave to date. He was hard in no time and ground his erection against Faramir’s hip with enough force to bruise. When he was lightheaded from lack of air, he growled and pulled away. “You’re going to beg me to fuck you now, Faramir, and if you beg politely, I might even use some oil to ease the way… though I suspect you wouldn’t care if I didn’t.” He released his hold on the man and took a step away. “Undress and bend over that couch, and use that delicious little mouth of yours to tell me how you’d do absolutely anything for me if only I’d touch you.”

Faramir felt completely wanton as the man kissed him, his hips tried to move, to gain friction but he couldn’t. It was frustrating and wonderful at the same time. When they drew apart, Faramir stared into lust darkened blue eyes. “Gods, yes… yes,” he murmured, unsure why he was doing this. Yes, he had been attracted to the man when he first woke and saw him, but now it was as if he had to have him or he might just die of want. He licked his lips as he was commanded to move. “Yes, my lord,” he whispered as his hands began to quickly unfasten his clothes. “I want you, want to touch you and want you to take me. I want to feel you inside me, feel you over me, your skin burning into mine. Gods, I’ve never desired someone so much… and yet, I do not even know your name,” he said in a soft, breathless voice as he removed the last of his clothing. He leaned over the couch and arched his back so his backside was in the air, ready and waiting for this man he didn’t even know.

Normally the most impulsive of men, Rahl reigned in his lust and simply watched Faramir undress, though he didn’t look him in the eyes as he did so. Once, his ‘lover’ had been horrified at what Rahl’s spell was making him do and say, and Rahl had caught a glimpse of that when their eyes had met. He’d pulled out of the man and killed him instantly. A waste of a very handsome slave, he’d thought later, though the incident had shook him more than he wanted to admit. How the man’s disgust had managed to override the spell had vexed him for months, and he’d not taken a lover for weeks after. Since then, he’d strengthened his spells, so there was no more danger of seeing that horror again, but he often avoided direct eye contact anyway. His spells allowed him to believe the others wanted him, and though deep in his heart, he knew it wasn’t true, he could easily push that tiny voice in his head that thrilled in hurting him with the truth aside and do what he wished.

With a shrug of his shoulders, his robes fell and a moment later he was standing behind the clearly needy form of this man from another realm. Faramir was looking away, and wouldn’t see his scars, he thought as he dmieed the room. His hands ran lightly over the man’s spine and his laughter filled the room. “Of course you want me,” he said softly. “And if you please me, I might grace you with my name.” He kicked Faramir’s legs apart and cast another spell, one that would open and slick the man with no effort on Rahl’s part. It wasn’t the most comfortable of preparations, or so he’d gathered, but he considered it a kindness that he did it at all, never mind that it was mostly to keep his cock from being rubbed raw.

Faramir though, would have been embarrassed but not horrified because he had wanted the man before he’d cast his spell on him. He glanced over his shoulder as the man’s robes fell away and his eyes were drawn to the scarring he saw. Scars from what were obviously burns spanned up from his left thigh, over his hip and onto his abdomen just below his navel. Faramir wasn’t disgusted by the scars though, merely fascinated and wondered vaguely what they might feel like under his lips and tongue. He arched his back even more, to present himself to the man, only to find his legs kicked further apart, almost painfully widening his stance.

Before Faramir could speak or even react, something cold ran through his lower body, like an icy hand thrusting inside him. It wasn’t painful but it was disconcerting and uncomfortable, making him yelp a little. “Gods, so cold!” he managed before he felt the other man move closer, pressing his body against his. Faramir tensed for a moment, expecting it to hurt a great deal when he was breached, but the strange feeling from before must have opened and prepared him. When he realized the pain was minimal, simply his body stretching around the thick cock inside him, Faramir thrust back, taking it in to the hilt. “Mmm, Gods… fuck me,” he moaned. Normally he would have been embarrassed saying something like that, but here and now he felt no shame at all. The spell made sure that Faramir had little control of his actions and desires.

Rahl wasted no time at all in doing just as Faramir asked. Heated muscles were folded around his cock like a glove, fitting perfectly and drawing him in deep. Grabbing Faramir’s hips, Rahl pulled back until he was completely free of the man, then plunged back in hard, setting a punishing pace. Had he noticed Faramir’s eyes on his scars, he would have made this… less pleasant… but his avoidance of Faramir’s gaze for his own peace of mind had saved them both different kinds of pain. He was soon thrusting so hard, Faramir’s feet were nearly leaving the floor, so he leaned forward and hooked his hands over broad shoulders, changing the angle of his thrusts and driving his cock in even deeper, not noticing or even caring if Faramir was enjoying their encounter. “I normally like to fuck you until you’re raw, but it’s been a long night,” he panted through gritted teeth. “Don’t think you’re always going to get off this easily.”

Faramir’s nails dug into the soft fabric of he couch he was leaned over, as his body was pounded relentlessly. It felt incredible; this dark man seemed to fit inside and against him perfectly, as if they were made especially for this. His back arched, as he met each thrust at first but then the pace was so hard and so fast that Faramir was forced up onto his toes, leaning heavily on the couch. His own hard cock was rubbing against the soft fabric with just enough friction to make him moan with every thrust. He heard the breathless words over his shoulder, and Faramir thrust back as much as he could. “I don’t think I’ll want to… get off easily,” he grunted, not even sure where the notion came from. He hissed when one hand traveled down his chest and pinched his nipple hard and he could feel his cock twitching. “Oh Gods… so close,” he murmured in surprise, he hadn’t even been touched except where his body rubbed against the couch.

Always fond of the reaction that pain during sex garnered in certain lovers, especially ones as deeply bewitched as Faramir, Rahl took note of exactly how beautifully the man reacted to the pressure on his nipples by clamping down around his aching and still thrusting flesh. He paused, pulled at Faramir until he was somewhat upright and reached around him. One hand moved up to twist the same nipple hard as the other skirted down to his testicles. Thumb and index fingers met at the base of Faramir’s cock and Rahl pulled the man’s scrotum down and squeezed. Quickly deepening his spell so Faramir wouldn’t pull away or fight against the pain, he scraped his teeth over now sweaty and warm skin and began thrusting again, even as he worried the flesh in his hands mercilessly. “You love this, don’t you, Faramir? The pain and the pleasure mixing together so perfectly you can hardly think. All you know is that you never want me to stop fucking you. It is a common desire among my slaves, and one I do not blame you for at all.”

Faramir was so easy to manipulate for the dark man, he wanted anything the man desired of him. The hand that teased and tormented him was almost too much, it hurt and felt so good at the same time that Faramir cried out. “Yes… Gods, yes!” His voice was shaking as the words were tore from him and suddenly he felt his lover bite down roughly on his shoulder as his hand squeezed around his aching flesh and the hard length inside him slammed directly into his sweet spot. Faramir screamed his release as it pulsed over the tight grip, normally one that might prevent him from coming but he had found his release despite it.

Rahl was almost taken by surprise at the force of Faramir’s release, having no idea more than the spell was at work in the man. He came hard himself, crying out loudly and filling the passage surrounding him with so much of his seed, it was as if he hadn’t had sex in days… though he had clearly fucked the man he’d woken up next to quite well only a few hours before. He collapsed on top of the man, breathing heavily, his cock continuing to twitch within the clenching confines of Faramir’s ass. He allowed himself only a moment of that luxury, however, and quickly pulled away, sparing no thought for the man was he freed himself and chanted a cleaning spell. It was almost an afterthought to clean Faramir and the couch as well, and his face was oddly neutral as he backed away and picked up his robe, trying to decide whether to send Faramir to the slave’s quarters or his own bed. “Rahl,” he said, keeping both his voice and his breathing steady by pure force of will alone. “My name is Lord Rahl. You may refer to me as ‘my Lord.’”

Faramir was panting, his body completely spent, and his backside sore but… in a quite nicely memorable way. He was almost saddened when the other man moved away from him. The feeling of the cleansing spell was rough and cold, almost grating against his flushed skin causing him to gasp and clutch at the couch before him. After a moment, he stood shakily and turned to stumble over to his clothes. He pulled on the soft linen tunic as he looked at the dark haired man. Rahl. “Then… thank you, my Lord,” Faramir answered, bowing his head slightly. He picked up his breeches and moved toward the other man, close enough that he might be able to simply lean forward and kiss him again. “Do you greet all your guests this way?” Faramir asked with his eyes twinkling.

Rahl nearly took a stumbling step back as Faramir came so close, but managed to remain where he was. His robe was clutched tightly against his stomach, hiding the prominent scars that disgusted any who saw them, but never as much as they disgusted Rahl himself. His eyes betrayed his astonishment at the way the man looked at him, and he wondered where in the world this man came from that he would dare approach a wizard – especially Lord Rahl – without so much as a hint of fear.

Rather than back away, he turned on his heel and walked over to the ever-empty fireplace, his fingers tracing along the mantle as he tried not to betray his relief at putting some distance between them. “You think you are my ‘guest’ Faramir?” His laugh was dark as he turned back to the man. “I do not recall sending you an invitation. I think… prisoner is a more fitting word. Or slave, though you may think of yourself as a pleasure slave if that helps any.”

Faramir was disappointed that Rahl moved away from him. Then his words made his stomach flip. So, this was why he was here? “Prisoner… but… I… I do not understand. If you are not Sauron’s wizard then what point is there to hold me?” Faramir was confused and his mind had not wrapped around the possibility that he was not even in Middle Earth any longer.

Blue eyes narrowed dangerously. This man dared question him? “I hold you because I want you,” he said after a moment. “And I always get what I want. When I tire of you, if you are still alive, I might send you back to the world you came from. Until then, you are to simply do as you’re told.” This time, he stepped closer to the man, eyeing him closely, still entranced. For some reason, he felt compelled to add on a few more words, words that he’d never offered before to anyone he took to his bed. “Don’t worry. I’ll do my best to keep you sane through it all. I am not a cruel man, despite what everyone seems to think. People sometimes – often, really – merely misunderstand me.”

The look in Rahl’s eyes was frightening but Faramir managed to stand his ground. He felt vulnerable in nothing but his thin linen shirt, but he didn’t want to show fear to this man if he could help it because he knew the moment he did, Rahl would play on those fears, like his own father would. “Because you want me is reason enough, I suppose,” Faramir said carefully, tipping his head in a slight bow. “Perhaps one day… I shall understand you then, my lord.” Faramir felt an incredible pull toward Rahl, a part of him wanting to smooth his brow with his fingertips and kiss away the slight scowl he now wore despite the fact that he hated the idea of being held against his will. As much as he wanted to go home, he also wanted to stay for some reason. Not in this place, but with this man. It was a startling thought, and Faramir looked up at him. “What did you do to me? What spell have you put on me?”

Rahl’s eyes darkened at the question and he stepped behind Faramir, quickly slipping completely back into his robe. Before the man could even turn, Rahl was in front of him again, reaching out and trailing his index finger down the open neck of Faramir’s tunic. “A simple spell that merely makes your true desires surface,” he lied. “Many fight their attraction to me because of who I am. While I enjoy a good fight as much as the next wizard, it is often easier on my lover to have that little voice in his head silenced.” His hand trailed down and suddenly wrapped around Faramir’s wrist, using the element of surprise to twist his arm behind his back. “It is a handy little spell, and one that, you have to admit, made our entire encounter quite pleasant, yes?”

Rahl could move so quickly that Faramir was stunned when he was before him. His body reacted automatically to the trailing finger, his breathing picking up again. But when his wrist was grasped in a painfully strong grasp, Faramir gasped, pain shooting up his arm from where it was now twisted behind him. He could have fought, he was a trained soldier but what would be the point against a magical opponent? Even if he could overpower the slightly shorter man, there was no way that Faramir could fight against magic. He swallowed hard and nodded. “It was more than pleasant… and I had hopes it would happen again… often in fact,” Faramir said softly. “But you did not need a spell to make me want you.”

Laughter, hard and cold, filled the room at once. Rahl tightened his grasp on the man’s arm and leaned forward, pressing his lips against Faramir’s ear, and though he tried to ignore it, the scent of the Ranger filled his nostrils and caused a strange, warm sensation to race down his spine and pool somewhere in the middle of his stomach. “Do not toy with me, Faramir,” he whispered slowly, enunciating every word clearly. “If you ever lie to me again, I will make you hurt in ways you never dreamed possible. Do I make myself clear?” He pushed Faramir’s arm up higher, nearly to the point of dislocating it. “Don’t answer. Just nod.”

Faramir was startled by the bitter laughter and the voice in his ear sounded angry but there was something about it that also made his heart ache. Before he could say anything, his arm was being twisted so high up his back he could feel the shoulder joint beginning to slip painfully within the socket. He sucked in a breath, trying to bite back a cry of pain and found himself nodding, even though it had been the truth. He’d wanted Rahl as soon as he had set eyes on him. Yes, it all happened much too fast and in a manner he would never have done without a spell guiding him, he couldn’t deny that it was what he’d wanted, deep down.

Nearly chest-to-chest with the current object of his lust, Rahl held the nearly deformed arm steadily behind Faramir’s back but let his thumb rub in soft circles over his wrist. “You suffer beautifully,” he smirked, catching the man’s earlobe between his teeth and biting down hard. As quickly as he’d grabbed Faramir’s wrist, he let it go and stepped back, the sleepless nights and nightmares suddenly weighing heavily on his shoulders. “Follow me. We’re going to bed. I’m too tired to even bother sending you to the slave quarters tonight.”

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