Faramir Fiction Archive

Mist (R)

Written by Geale

30 September 2010 | 88324 words

Much love to all of you who are still reading this tale. We pick up exactly where we left off.

Chapter Twenty-Nine – Foresight

Gradually, Aragorn drew breath with more ease and confidence. Faramir followed every rise and fall of his chest and though he would have liked to stretch out to be more comfortable, he refrained from moving. The candles were tiny flickering beacons in the night but they provided no warmth. Still, Faramir lay unmoving.

He had sunk almost into a meditative state when Aragorn shifted at last. Their legs were tangled together but Faramir had slipped out of him just after his release, and they lay more beside than on top of each other. The older man lifted a hand and traced a line up Faramir’s arm. When he reached the shoulder, he continued past a collarbone and then, when he could go no further leaned in to kiss him. With a surge of joy, Faramir returned the kiss, his heart growing lighter in his breast.

Now that the first step had been taken, Faramir felt secure enough to gently untangle their legs and find a more comfortable position. Aragorn’s hand slid to rest over the younger man’s heart and Faramir brushed away the hair that fell into the other man’s face. The trail that Aragorn’s tears had left behind he left untouched.

“I still love you,” he said cautiously, not really fearful of disturbing this new type of peace, but needing to hear Aragorn speak.

Aragorn looked like he would rather close his eyes but they remained open. “Do you understand, Faramir,” he all but whispered, “that I will never love another the way I love you? And not because of… this but because of… everything.”

“You have me.” Reassured beyond reason, he moved deeper into an embrace he so craved that it made him almost nauseous. “Forevermore.”

There was a new dash of moonlight but it was soon lost between the clouds.

Tulië 47

It was hard to say for sure but maybe there was a hint of sunlight in the sky. Faramir surveyed the gardens with a frown; the constant raining would soon transform the grass into a sunken land of reeds and that did not fit with his idea of a garden no matter how wild he kept parts of it. His boots were silently complaining at being exposed to the wetness but he was adamant and would not leave before he had made some kind of assessment of the situation. If this was what his gardens looked like, then it was no wonder that the Road, which ran partially through a dale, was flooded.

“Faramir?”

He jumped at the call though it was soft.

“Forgive me, I did not mean to startle you.” Arwen smiled as he turned. She had collected her dark hair in a single braid but despite her smile there was a shadow playing around her eyes. In her fine dress of a deep green she looked to him like a faery almost… stepping out of the trees’ embrace.

He found his voice, “I was deep in thought, I did not hear you coming.” He glanced down towards the ground. “My Lady, your gown…”

“Is soaked,” she agreed. “But I was hoping I might speak with you? The dress I believe can be washed.”

He looked up at her and allowed his senses to stretch just a little. There was the faintest hint of urgency in her voice and still the shadow lingered around her eyes, and this compelled him to listen. “Please, madam, walk with me then?”

She inclined her head but said nothing, and they began meandering through the gardens.
Faramir reined in his building nervousness. When he and Aragorn had parted that morning they had not yet spoken of the outside world and so he did not know… And Arwen had not broken her fast with him.

As if his silent musings triggered the conversation, Arwen spoke, “Eldarion is in the library with Aragorn… I am hoping they might find a way to… simply be together. Does that sound silly to you, Faramir?”

He turned to look at her but she would not meet his gaze. He shook his head. “No…” Wavering between the truth and good conduct, he chose the former. “I can see there is much to mend.”

“Aye.” Her smile was not convincing. “It is circumstance that drove them – all of us – apart, I am told… But sometimes I wonder if there was more to it.”

He would have liked for her to continue for he could not yet tell where she was headed but he was intrigued now and lost some of his inherent fear of the mother of Aragorn’s son. He spoke with care, “But the world your son was born into was not this world.”

“True,” she acknowledged, “but still… I love Aragorn.” She drew a deep breath. “Perhaps my darkest deed is to love him as a… a brother? A friend? A confidant? When he sought more and I never told him…”

They passed a row of roses and avoided a couple of puddles. Surprised at her frankness, Faramir debated with himself and only half heartedly came to a conclusion. He was all alone in this; there was nothing else present that might advice him. “He knows that…” he said quietly.

He glanced sideways at her and saw her nod. “Yes… I think he does.” She stopped to trace the frayed edges of a green leaf, battered by the rain. “And now he knows love again.”

The ground dissolved under Faramir when she turned to face him. “There is love between the two of you.” There was kindness in her grey-blue eyes but it was strongly tempered by sadness.

Faramir swallowed. “We…”

“I can see it.” She reached out and placed a hand on his arm. “I have lived long and seen much.” She was not admonishing him and he was grateful. “I confess I am surprised.” Her soft words hinted at a question.

Faramir nodded slowly, lacking the strength to meet her gaze any longer. “I am too.” His attempt at a smile did not manifest into something tangible. He kept his eyes trained on the grass.

She seemed to choose her words carefully. “I never expected Aragorn to find a male lover… A new lover he would be willing to present at some point, maybe, but I would not have thought him male.”

“He never…?” It was too difficult to ask. He glanced up at her, her ebony hair catching a feeble spark of sunlight in the air.

A smile briefly touched her lips. “No.” She shook her head. “I know of no others… Perhaps he found some solace on his journeys but I think his guilt weighed down his heart too heavily. You have not spoken of this?”

“No…” What Aragorn had told him about the encounter with the man who had used him so heartlessly was not Faramir’s story to tell and perhaps Arwen already knew.

They resumed their walking and dove underneath a slender branch with hundreds of white flowers.

Faramir drew a deep breath, equally filled with sweetness from above and fear. “We have only spoken a little about such matters…”

Arwen caught his eye. “I do not mean to pry,” she said earnestly, “but I wonder at what I see.”

“I understand,” said Faramir, and he did, but it was difficult to speak of. He steered them through the gardens, more or less letting his feet choose their direction. “I think we are all surprised.”

“Those he loves, he loves deeply… and though you might think differently due to what you have seen these past couple of days, he truly wishes to keep his loved ones close”

It was a gentle suggestion that nonetheless managed to bring colour to Faramir’s cheeks.

“We have not spoken much of that… either…”

She stopped and turned towards him, forcing him to face her. “Do not hide your love, Faramir… Your heart’s hope is in your eyes.” She smiled a bleak smile. “Aragorn guards his heart fiercely though he has no need to do so. He never understood that.”

A part of Faramir desperately wanted to retreat but he was lost in the gentle cadence of her words. He found himself losing the tender hold on his restraint at her honesty, and at the prospect of finding out more.

“I fear it,” he mumbled. “I fear that he loves me so, and I fear that he does not. I am as bound to Emyn Arnen as he is to Minas Tirith…”

He could have continued but it seemed to be enough for Arwen nodded and lifted her gaze to look about them. “This is a beautiful place… Soulful… Soul full,” she said and suddenly there was a twinkle in her eyes. “I am sure you know what I mean.”

He nodded, surprised, and yet not wholly so. “I do.”

“All will come out fine… I think,” she said but it sounded close to a prayer. They resumed their walking almost on cue. “May I ask, Faramir, if you are as untried in these ways as is Aragorn?”

It took him a moment to fully understand but then he shook his head. “No, I have only been with males.”

She gave a hum while she pondered this. “So Aragorn…”

“I am afraid I have corrupted him.” He watched the wave of relief that washed over her features. “He loved you then… and still does.”

A self-conscious smile curved her lips. “I know… I do… But I could not help but wonder…”

“You should speak with Aragorn himself,” said Faramir.

At this, she actually laughed – a clear laugh that reminded him of the song of an underground well that springs forth in the midst of blueberries and moss. “Is it not obvious already that no one is speaking to Aragorn about the important things?” She placed a pale hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, Faramir.”

He smiled in return, finding some steady ground to depend upon in her suddenly ethereal and luminous presence. “Thank you, madam.”

They walked in silence for a while until Faramir could contain his curiosity no longer. “My Lady, forgive me if I speak out of turn, but… what will happen with Eldarion?” She showed no sign of being offended although a new shadow passed over her face. He pressed on, “He is of dual descent, both elven and human… Will he have the possibility to choose?”

Her sigh was deep and she did not respond at once. They circled an apple tree and she stopped to run her fingertips over the bark. “There is power in such a joining,” she said finally. “But…”

When she looked up, Faramir saw the tears that had formed in her eyes. He opened his mouth to say that she needed not tell him but she was the quicker one to speak.

“But the legacy of history is entwined with fate, and the Valar themselves I think are hesitating…” Her attempt at jest fell flat to the ground. “You are right, essentially. My father and his brother chose, and they chose different fates as I am sure you well know. My brothers will be counted among the Eldar and… so will I.” Pain unchecked filled her eyes. “You must understand, Faramir, I will see my parents again – I will see the Blessed Lands.”

He nodded. “Another life…”

“Yes…” She strayed near the apple tree in a way Faramir recognised as one similar to his own. “I do not want Aragorn and Dari to form a bond simply because they are father and son, but because… Aragorn is a Man… and our son will be a King of Men.”

Realisation dawned on Faramir as he beheld the torment in Arwen’s slender form. “You are preparing…?”

“I cannot not stay forever, Faramir…” She shook her head and a first tear trailed down her cheek. “I will see him grow up, marry maybe… have children of his own?” Her voice broke easily as the words rushed out of her. “When do I leave him? When do I leave my son?” She brushed away her tears but new immediately followed. “If I see his children, then I will want to see them grow up too… And even so, the sea calls to the very core of my soul–”

Without hesitating, Faramir caught her in his arms and held her close as she cried. A month ago he would have laughed at the suggestion that he would be soothing the Lady of Rivendell in his gardens but that was not funny now. He did not move as her ragged breaths sifted through his shirt and touched his skin. As she calmed down, he felt more and more determined. When she pulled away, he was glad that she did not blush and excuse herself like a young maiden.

“Will he even have a choice?” he asked quietly.

She wiped the tears from her cheeks with her sleeve. “I know not. But if he does, and though it will break my heart, I will encourage him… to choose mortality.” She shook her head as if she could barely believe her own words. “Or the fate of Middle-earth would brutally change and what we have accomplished would not match it.” She tried a smile. “For I doubt you will carry Aragorn’s child.”

He must smile a little himself. “That will not happen.”

“So, Faramir,” she drew a shaky breath and the gaiety was drained from her voice, “I meant not to ask this of you but now I do it nonetheless.” She swallowed and met his gaze straight on. “If the love between you and Aragorn deepens and blossoms, will you, please… remember my son?”

“I will.” He did not for a second doubt his own willingness. “I promise you I will, no matter what my love for Aragorn comes to.”

“Thank you,” she breathed. “Thank you.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I will not hold you to your promise but I will cherish it for as long as you can keep it.”

He meant to say that she could trust him but something in the way a new-found peace was slipping into her made him change his mind. Maybe this was already enough. Maybe she already knew, and in this way he did not bind himself to an unknown future – even if he in this moment truly believed he could do so.

“Shall we turn back?” he suggested instead. “Let us go to the library and see those we love?”

Her smile was broader now and she even gave a small laugh. “I knew you were bold, not so deep down, Steward Faramir.”

He winked at her and took her arm, distantly shocked by his own behaviour. But before he could fully throw himself into jest, he had one more thing to say, “I am happy that I like you, my Lady. I feared your arrival and presence.”

She placed her hand on top of his. “Then I am sorry, but also glad,” she said.

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