"He was gentle in bearing, and a lover of lore and of music, and therefore by many in those days his courage was judged less than his brother's. But it was not so, except that he did not seek glory in danger without purpose."
[from Appendix A; The Stewards, in: The Lord of the Rings]

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Lust for possession (R) Print

Written by Anastasiya

18 April 2010 | 3838 words

[ all pages ]


“You are pregnant,” he said suddenly touching Éowyn’s hand.

“What?” She raised her tearful eyes. “How do you know?”

“You haven’t told him of it, have you?” Aragorn said again and she stared at him in full amazement. Why he spoke with such confidence? How did he know?

“I swear you, he would live! I swear you with all that is dearest in my life that your son would know his father!” Aragorn said once more pushing away the haze of the strange dream that visited him. Dreadful dream, he suddenly realized. And it was like the second chance that he was now here, in this place, again.

Faramir stood by the window contemplating the night city. He loved these night hours, filled with chirr of crickets in the garden, loved the sky gleaming with stars, and he loved life.

Gentle arms slipped round his waist and he pressed himself back into the warm embrace. Lips slide along his neck to his ear and a sensual voice whispered, “I love you.”

Faramir laughed quietly. The past had no meaning anymore but he couldn’t help from light teasing.

“You could tell it me before you had satisfied your lust.”

“If you hadn’t been so cold with me I wouldn’t have had reasons ‘to satisfy my lust’ in that way.”

Faramir laughed again as he threw his head back.

“I’ve never been cold with you and simply tried to save seniority.”
Aragorn suddenly turned him around and Faramir held his breath from the unexpectedly desperate impression of his face.

“Aragorn.” Faramir touched his cheek but Aragorn caught his arm and pressed it to his lips in desperate motion.

“You forgave me for what I’ve done, didn’t you?”

“Aragorn, I…”

“Believe me, never I would course you pain. It happened in impulse of jealousy, uncertainty… Oh Valar, Faramir, you are alive and it’s the most important.”

Faramir stared at him in mute amazement. “Of course, Aragorn, you saved my life once more.”

“Oh, Faramir, never I would be tired to repeat how much I love you.” Aragorn was deep in his thoughts, it seemed. “When Elboron looked at me with your eyes I thought that I would die with grief…”

“What are you talking about?”

Aragorn suddenly came to consciousness looking at Faramir. He was here, in his embrace, safe and sound. Moon light drew carefully contour of his beautiful face and full lips. Pushing Faramir closer Aragorn touched his warm mouth. “Just about I’ve had still no chance to say and show you so much.” He whispered tenderly as his hands slipped down pressing Faramir’s bare body to himself. “And great part of it I’m going to do now.”

Aragorn carefully leant over a cot, looking into big blue eyes. Faramir’s son was already two years old and he intently sucked his finger regarding the big kind man who stayed by his father.

“You grew up now”, Aragorn whispered as he gently ruffled dark gold hair, “come to me and I’ll give you something much more delicious than your small finger.” He raised a baby and put him on his chest. Every time he did it, warmth filled all his being.

“Your father is so proud of you,” he whispered again squeezing small a hand. “And how could anybody not be?! You are incredibly beautiful.”

“Probably, he took after his mother.” Faramir said smiling as he regarded the sweet picture.

“No, he is your copy.” Aragorn answered definitely not tearing his gaze from child.

“He is too small, however, to define exactly.” Faramir tried again and smiled when Aragorn emphatically said, “Don’t argue with me, my Steward, I know exactly.”

Always he was beyond any doubts about everything that concerned Faramir’s son, and Faramir often asked himself if Aragorn had possessed any gift of foresight. Even the name of their child appeared from the mouth of Aragorn and Faramir remembered sometimes that night when Aragorn suddenly told him about Elboron. He knew not what his King had in mind then but it directly touched all his future life. And somehow deep in his heart Faramir became aware of that that knowledge came to Aragorn not easily. So he didn’t want to stir up the past. Now they were here, together, two men who were born to be warriors, leaders, rulers and lovers.

It was the most important.

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6 Comment(s)

Oh Anastasya
It was absolutly lovely. You are a fantastic writer!!
Thank you so much for this story, I am truly touched moved by your kind words. You are very dear to me too

Love you always

— Ingrid    Friday 30 April 2010, 16:18    #

Dear Ingrid, you’re always too kind to me too. And I cannot wish better friend than you are for me.
I hope you are alright again.
Thank you very much!

— Anastassiya    Friday 30 April 2010, 17:41    #

Oh, Lord, how I’ve tortured myself over this! (laughs and shakes head) Nastya, you have no pity for your readers :)

I read the first two chapters a few days ago, and I was terrified to go on, like I’ve never before been terrified by a fic, thinking I knew what would happen, and knowing I could not deal with it.

But then I thought, no, get a hold of yourself and go face it. Silly me, I could have spared myself all the angst had I read it all on the first evening :)

You know, much as I was sorry for Aragorn, what with his stupid stubborn preconceptions totally ruining their first time and all his consequent guilt, it still feels like he deserved the pain of remorse, and that dreadful dream. Ah, where’s my mercy…? Well, he had to pay for all the nervous cells I’ve lost obsessing about Faramir dying (and dying like that, too)!

All that said, do I need to tell you I find this a wondrously powerful work? Although, my friend, you are tricksy, very tricksy indeed ;-)

December    Wednesday 22 September 2010, 23:22    #

Спасибо, моя милая December! У тебя просто замечательная привычка преувеличивать заслуги других людей, что очень греет душу. Мне, по крайней мере, согрела несомненно. А вот что касается шаловливости..)), уж не знаю, дорогая, кто из нас более шаловлив: ты, играющая на чувствах других людей и заставляющая постоянно гадать своих читателей, что будет в следующей части, или я?))
Спасибо тебе еще раз!

— Anastasiya    Wednesday 29 September 2010, 8:12    #

Батюшки, я и не знамечала за собой подобной привычки))

Да, конечно, спорный вопрос. Что жестче: обломывать читателя в его светлых надеждах, или вдруг делать счастливый конец там, где его и быть не могло? По-любому, мы стОим друг друга…)

Так вот, изначально-то вопрос был каков: что ты будешь делать, не имея возможности попросить прощения. Нда, вариантов-то не так чтобы много получается… Тут нашему бестолковому королю еще повезло, что был мальчик, на которого можно было изливать всю свою виноватую нежность)

December    Wednesday 29 September 2010, 16:58    #

Смейся, смейся, моя дорогая!
Я же говорила, что люблю хороший конец)). А то, что мы стОим друг друга… – это точно! ))

— Anastasiya    Thursday 30 September 2010, 6:12    #

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