Faramir Fiction Archive

Narsilion: The Letters from Ithilien (R)

29 July 2009 | 1260 words

Narsilion: The Letters from Ithilien
Pairing: Faramir/Éomer
Rating: Strong R (Maybe NC-17… I’m not sure. you tell me)
Summary: One of those letters from Éomer that you heard about in the story Narsilion: The Rise of Osgiliath.

A/N: Just a shorty I did to make myself feel better. Feedback is welcome. Beta read by arwensong.

Once upon a time, despair had been his companion ever since the day his brother left Osgiliath for Rivendell. But Faramir had always been a man of duty. He had pushed his grief aside to do his father’s bidding. His reward had been nothing.

Now his duty was to his king. He still expected nothing, but that was not what he received. In Osgiliath was his heart’s desire while he dwelled in Minas Tirith. He pushed his loneliness aside for duty’s sake. Nevertheless, there were rewards. The rewards came as missives from his domain. Letters from his most trusted and beloved vassal, the Earl of Osgilath would contain much more than the daily news of his lands.

Tonight’s letter awaited him when he returned to his suite in the citadel after a long meeting with his lord King and the Thanes of the South Downs. Faramir split the wax seal, eager to consume its contents with hungry eyes.

To Faramir, Son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor and Prince of Ithilien.

Hail and greetings from your loving consort and faithful servant, the Earl of Osgiliath.

The marble sent from the White City is being put to good use in the making of facades over the brick buildings close to the waterfront. The laborers have learned better how to get the correct depth of stone to make a more stable structure. The master stone mason has finally stopped moaning and holding his head in his hands, begging for help from the sky. I, however, still watch with a skeptical eye.

We have had yet another meeting for the planning of a third bridge across the Anduin. For reasons that only these merchants can comprehend, they believe a third bridge is necessary to ease the expected traffic flow into the main markets. I find this an interesting idea, for I see in their minds that the King would wish to retake Minas Mogul. Thus, as a reclaimed territory properly settled, it would supply this extra traffic they anticipate. I have said nothing to them of my opinion of how likely this action may be in the front of the Elessar’s mind. Needless to say to you, my lord, it is not likely to happen in my lifetime. The Mogul Vail is still corrupt and trolls wander the lower roads at night. Bands of Orcs still dwell in the Dead City and pass freely into the higher lands of Mordor.

From Henneth Annûn and your lands north, the news remains much the same. The Cair is quiet and prosperity returns. Travelers have complained less of Orcs and more of common highwaymen and thieves. To rejoice in the rise of human bandits seems odd, and yet there is much joy in the rangers’ voices when they tell me of these simple villains. For all, it is one more sign that peace and resolution has returned to the lands of the Ithil.

From Emyn Arnen and your lands south, they say more than just villains from Harad road come up from the wastelands. Great shaggy beasts with sharp teeth and claws have been sighted. They say these creatures are man-eaters and should not be approached. They are not wolves, but much larger. Their faces are more feline in nature. So far, there have only been unconfirmed rumors of attacks on humans wandering the woodlands in the south, adjacent to the fork of the Erui. Nevertheless, more towards the factual, there have been reports of livestock losses to the farms closer to the Harad road and much closer to the fork of the Poros. All rangers in that area are on high alert for this menace.

Now, my dearest pollywog, my heart, my Rana, I send you my sweetest love. I miss you, your eyes, your smile, and your strong arms. I long to touch the silk of your hair once more. I wish to hear your voice in my ear, whispering words of love and passion. I want to taste your lips and nibble on the flesh of your throat and chest. I would suck your nipples and lick you; I would bathe your body with my tongue so that I may know your sweetness. I would not hold back, never, my love.

I would feast like a starved man between your hard thighs. My tongue would know every curve and contour of your cock and bollocks. I would taste your muscled buttocks and I would tickle your tender hole with the tip of my tongue.

Oh my beautiful prince, I grow hard just thinking of you; how you look and feel in my arms. My mouth waters to taste you. My skin burns to touch you. I want to breathe in the scent of your musk and let it take me to that place in the memory of my whole being where I belong only to you. I am yours. I would serve you in any fashion you would desire. Shall I be your slave? Shall I lie before you and spread my legs? Shall I beg my master to touch me and take me, for I am his possession? Shall I present myself, readied and slicked and hungry to be filled?

Sweet Faramir! Yes, beloved, then you will take me. You would hold my hips in such a grip that I could not break. Your manhood would slip inside me, filling me to bursting. Then, my love, then I would move on you. I would take you inside over and over. My body would burn with the most exquisite desire and I would speak your name like a prayer to the heavens saying: never let this end!

My lord and master, my prince, then you would hold me, and I you, our bodies joined. I would look into your eyes and fall into you. And you would catch me as you pledged to do when we first kissed. I would be held in your strength as you would be held in mine. Nothing will ever come between our love.

You would spend yourself deep inside me and I would cry out in joy as I felt the heat of your seed in my core. I would give you all that I have. I would give it again and again. I shall never have my fill. Yes, my love, I am insatiable, but only because you are irresistible. I am happily bewitched by your beauty and splendor. I am ensnared in your perfection. I am yours until the end of time.

Now that I have made myself randy and useless for the rest of this evening, I will retire to dream of you. Be well and strong, my prince pollywog.

With adore and affection
Your Vasa

Faramir smiled as he brought the parchment to his chest to hold it close to his heart. His eyes closed and he saw in his mind his lovely Vasa, naked before him, his legs spread and his sweet lips parted as if wordlessly begging for a kiss. He knew that he would dream of fucking his beautiful Éomer this night. It was a meager reward, but it was enough for now. He knew that one day very soon, his dreams would be reality.

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