Faramir Fiction Archive

Midnight Tea (PG)

Written by Laurëlóte

22 June 2009 | 462 words

Title: Midnight Tea
Author: Laurelote
Pairing: Faramir / Éomer
Rating: PG
Word Count: 450ish

For the ‘Midnight Tea’ prompt of 5×2obsessions (or whatever the table’s called)

With thanks to moanahine for the inspiration simply by being her. *hugs*

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Midnight Tea

It was late in the evening when Faramir finally returned to his quarters and threw himself exhausted on the bed. He had been working on the new defence proposals for the last four days; he had barely slept and had had no time to relax for a while.

He was just about to get up again and dress for bed when he spotted a piece of paper rested against the mantelpiece.

“Éomer,” he thought to himself and smiled. How he had missed his lover the past few days.

He picked up the message and read it, frowningly slightly as he did so; Éomer was always so secretive, it was one of then things he loved about the Rohirrim, always so full of surprises, but his compulsive curiosity did not like it quite so much.

Congratulations.

Rest now. Our spot. Midnight

É.

At the allotted time Faramir made his way out of the citadel and down to the private gardens. ‘Their spot’ was a secluded corner tucked away amongst the trees. It had been designed by a former king as a place to spend time alone to gather his thoughts.

If he had not been grinning the whole way from his quarters he would have smiled upon arriving the garden. The spot had been lit up with several oil lanterns and on the ground, was a blanket and a vast array of treats spread out upon it.

The only thing missing, Faramir realised with a frown was Éomer himself. He looked around but could not see the Rohirrim anywhere.

Suddenly he was there in front of him; his arms outstretched and welcoming and Faramir melted in his warm embrace. How he had missed this contact; this closeness.

Their lips met softly, it was a simple, chaste kiss but one that showed all their feelings for each other perfectly.

Finally, when they pulled apart, Éomer wordlessly took Faramir’s hand and guided him towards the blanket. He sat down first and then guided his lover down to sit against him, leaning against his broad chest.

He picked up the single rose and offered it to the Gondorian.

“Thank you” Faramir whispered as he took the gift and lifted it to his nose to inhale the sweet smell.

“You are welcome,” Éomer spoke for the first time, and selected a piece of fruit from the blanket and offered it to Faramir’s lips. “And now let us eat and savour each other’s company, the night will be over far too soon.”

And alas it was.

Fini

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