Faramir Fiction Archive

Only if… (NC-17)

Written by Sairalinde and Anorienbean

29 June 2007 | 85653 words

Chapter 12

“He’s nothing special, really,” Denethor said to his companion as they walked through the great hall. “He’s not unattractive, I admit, but he’s disobedient, and arrogant. I personally don’t see what Faramir sees in him.”

Haldir, who was only a few feet away, heard every word clearly. He couldn’t have cared less what Faramir’s father thought of him, and actually preferred that the vile man disliked him so thoroughly. Turning his attention back to his book, he shook his head and forced himself not to roll his eyes. He knew the steward was trying to goad him into saying something – he did that often, when he wasn’t pointedly ignoring him – but for the most part, Haldir had been able to hold his tongue. Denethor had made cutting remarks about Haldir’s appearance, his attitude, his clothes, Elves in general, almost everything he could think of to try and get the blond Elf to lose his temper. So far, he’d failed, thankfully, as Haldir didn’t relish the thoughts of a public punishment, and had managed to stay silent.

Today, however, Denethor was in an exceptionally foul mood, and being ignored by his youngest son’s pleasure slave only made him angrier. “Of course Faramir always has been a foolish boy,” he continued, still trying to find the one subject that would make Haldir lose all control. He saw Haldir’s lips form a thin line and knew he’d finally touched a nerve. Of all things to anger the blond creature, who would have figured that speaking of his master was the one thing that would work? “He’s such a disappointment, that boy. Always with his nose in a book, or wanting to talk and negotiate, rather than simply take charge and kill whoever is in his way.” He looked up, saw Haldir’s face was now flushed a dark pink, and smiled. “I wish my late wife had never had a second child. Our first was perfect, our second nothing more than a mistake.”

Haldir stood, his book forgotten, hands clenched at his side. Denethor had no right, no right at all to speak of Faramir in such a manner. He wants to punish you…don’t give him the satisfaction.

Denethor was speaking quite loudly now, thrilled to have finally found Haldir’s weak spot. “I’d wager his slave would prefer someone stronger….someone better…to master him, anyone other than Faramir…”

Haldir’s shoulders drew back as he quickly moved to stand before Denethor. “I have never wished for another master,” he said softly, though there was an underlying steeliness in his voice as he spoke.

“Oh, the slave speaks!” Denethor laughed even as his companion, a nobleman who was content to follow the steward around and concur with anything he said in the hopes of getting a seat on the council, nodded in agreement. “Though you haven’t been given leave to open you mouth…unless, of course, you want to use it to bring me a little of the pleasure Faramir probably doesn’t even demand you give him. He really deserves seconds, I think, not firsts…”

“He deserves a little respect from his own father!” Haldir’s voice was louder than he’d meant it to be, catching the attention of several others in the hallway. “And I would rather be beaten to death rather than touch you.”

“Oh, is that so?” Denethor smirked. “Quite attached to my worthless son, aren’t you? I wouldn’t waste my time. He’s not worth it.”

“Faramir is worth more than a pathetic old man like you could even fathom,” Haldir ground out.

Denethor’s eyes flashed and he didn’t even notice the crowd that had gathered around them…his eldest son included. He grabbed Haldir’s shoulder and leaned close enough so that the Elf could hear him clearly. “He doesn’t deserve your loyalty, you know,” he hissed, squeezing hard enough to bruise fair skin as Haldir stiffened visibly. “He doesn’t deserve anything…not even to live in my home, my city…my presence. Besides Boromir, the only blessing I can count is that my beloved wife didn’t live to see what a disappointment her son has turned out to be.”

Haldir’s fists clenched at his sides, and it was all he could do not to attack the steward. He’d never been so angry in all his life, and thought at that moment, he could easily kill the old man. “The only blessing you can really count is that I would not shame Faramir by killing you, you old fool! I suggest you remember that. I have no wish to make my master an orphan.”

It was only then that Denethor realized he had an audience. He stood taller and pretended he had no idea why the insolent slave before him would make such a threat.

Faramir returned to the dining hall after speaking to one of his men in the hall. He’d felt a little off kilter all day it seemed. Originally he and Haldir had plans to go riding but then he was informed his father requested him to come to a lunch meeting, he said that Faramir could bring his slave and they could leave afterwards for whatever plans he had. Denethor hadn’t liked the idea of Faramir taking his slave out like that, but he was a beautiful one so he figured his son just wanted to show off his property.

When Faramir entered the room though it was completely silent. Servants seemed to be almost frozen in place, and Haldir and Denethor were standing at the table, both glaring at one another. Faramir looked around and saw a distinctly uncomfortable look on Boromir’s face as well and wondered just what had transpired. “I’m sorry for the interruption…I…is something…wrong?”

Denethor never broke his gaze with Haldir as his youngest son spoke. “Your slave is being insolent,” he said, his voice shaking with fury. “He was just about to apologize to me and tell me he was wrong, then beg my forgiveness for daring to even disagree with his superiors.” One hand reached out and his fist curled in Haldir’s hair, jerking the Elf forward. “Say it…say you were a fool to disagree with me, and that you know I’m right.”

Haldir’s fingers were clenched around the edge of the table, and he was struggling not to simply overturn it and smash it against the wall…or against Denethor’s head. “I was NOT wrong, and I am not apologizing,” he said through gritted teeth. “You are a fool, Denethor, and unworthy of even saying the word ‘steward’…or father….let alone actually being either one of them!”

Denethor jerked Haldir’s head forward again, causing the Elf to have to bite his tongue to keep from yelping. He wouldn’t give Denethor the satisfaction, however, and kept his mouth firmly closed. “Do you know what the punishment for speaking to me in such a manner is? Would you really prefer a public flogging or a night with the guards rather than admit that I’m right?”

Despite the pain in Haldir’s head where the hair was literally being pulled from his scalp, he tilted his head up until his gaze met that of Faramir’s father again. “Yes. A thousand times…yes.”

Faramir stepped forward as soon as he saw his father reach forward and grab Haldir. The fury that raced through him at the sight nearly blinded him and truly the only thing that stopped him from making a worse mess of things by protecting Haldir was his brother’s hand on his arm holding him back. His mouth dropped open as his father threatened Haldir and he nearly groaned when Haldir refused to apologize. “Please…I…” clearing his throat he attempted again. “Give me a moment please to speak with him, father,” he said as carefully as he possibly could. Boromir released his arm and Faramir took Haldir’s hand even as Denethor released the golden Elf roughly.

Haldir’s anger at Denethor bloomed as Faramir so carefully pulled him away. Faramir….so kind and gentle, and his own father practically hated him for exactly that. God, the man was vile…and stupid. Faramir deserved so much more. And there was no way Haldir could possibly tell Faramir what he and Denethor had argued about, or what his father had said about him. Massaging his scalp with his free hand, he followed his master to a dark corner where no one could hear them. “I am sorry, my Lord, but I cannot take back what I said…and I cannot tell him he is right, because it would be a lie.”

Faramir sighed when Haldir spoke. “Even if it is a lie certainly it would be better than being punished?” he asked and saw the answering defiance in Haldir’s eyes. “Please…just apologize and we can forget this, I don’t….I don’t want you to be punished.”

After making sure no one could see them, Haldir reached down and entwined his fingers with Faramir’s, giving them a gentle squeeze. “It would be more of a punishment for me to agree with his words,” he said softly. “Please, Faramir…I will accept whatever punishment that is ordered…but I cannot tell him he’s right.”

Feeling his heartache from the soft words Faramir shook his head. He realized that he couldn’t force Haldir to apologize, well he possibly could force him but he’d never really forced his slave to do anything he didn’t wish to. He closed his eyes for a moment and moved closer. “I do not want to punish you…will…will you accept the guards?” he asked not liking the idea but thinking it would be better for them both.

Haldir shook his head at once and forced a grim smile to his face. “I would rather be whipped.” The smile miracleously stayed in place as he continued. “I will be fine, my Lord. I would rather come to you with bruises and welts than dirtied by the touch and seed of the guards. You deserve better than that.” He shivered at the thought and looked directly into Faramir’s eyes. “Please understand…this is for the best for all concerned. Surely you have whipped a slave before, even if it was not your own?”

Faramir shook his head, both at the idea of having to whip Haldir and his question. “No. No I haven’t…I…I’ve never needed to,” he admitted. “Gods, I don’t want to hurt you…but the only other choice would be father doing it…and…we both know he’d be more harsh than me.” He shuddered and sighed heavily. “You’re sure you don’t want to reconsider apologizing though?”

Remembering Denethor’s words about Faramir, Haldir didn’t hesitate to answer. “I am sure. I would not give him the satisfaction and I would sooner cut out my tongue than tell him he is right.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. “I am sorry Faramir, Gods, I hate doing this to you, but in this case, I see no other way around it. I will be fine, I promise.”

Faramir sighed heavily and tipped his head up to look at the high ceiling for a moment. “All right. I….I don’t want to do this, but I don’t have a choice. Please…please understand that I don’t want to hurt you and I won’t find pleasure in this,” he whispered before taking Haldir’s hand and leading him back to the others.

“I’ve spoken with him, and he will be flogged. And I will do it myself,” he announced more strongly than he felt at least.

Denethor’s anger was tempered a bit by the smug smile that touched his lips for a moment before turning back into his usual grimace. “And you will do it well, Faramir. If I see that you aren’t putting your arm into it, I’ll add a dozen lashes of my own. Do I make myself clear?” His eyes regarded Haldir with distain, though he couldn’t deny he would appreciate seeing the Elf naked and writhing beneath the whip. He’d always been too bold, and Faramir had always been too lenient with him – introducing him as if he were worthy of notice, smiling at him, taking him out in public! It was ridiculous, and, he thought, this would be a good lesson for them both.

Faramir nodded when his father spoke. “Yes, I will do it properly,” he said trying to keep the nervousness from his voice. He knew better than to ask to do it privately, he knew his father wanted to watch. “Where would you like the punishment to take place?” he asked not wanting to delay. “I would like to get this over with if you don’t mind, father.”

Smirking as Haldir had the nerve to look him right in the eye without wavering, Denethor pointed to the courtyard just outside of the window. “I think we have a sufficient crowd for a public flogging, so let’s make our way outside to the punishment cross, shall we? I see no reason to wait either…it’s past time for your little toy to learn his place in my city.”

Faramir swallowed hard, wishing yet again that he didn’t have to do this. “Fine,” he said biting his tongue against his father’s words. He squeezed Haldir’s hand encouragingly and led him outside to where his father liked to observe punishments that were doled out. Faramir had never really come there that often, only a few times when ordered to. He led Haldir to the iron cross and looked around almost helpless for a moment when Boromir walked up.

“Don’t try to go lightly, don’t try to hold back, you’ll hurt him worse,” his brother advised softly. He held out the leather bindings for Haldir’s wrists and Faramir looked down. “I’m not sure I can do this,” he whispered feeling his stomach churn.

“You will not need those,” Haldir said quietly as he looked at the restraints. “If Lord Faramir orders me to stay still, I can assure you I will.” His gaze turned to Faramir and despite the fact that his brother was standing so close, Haldir leaned against him for a moment as he began to undress. “I promise, my Lord, I will be fine.” Several of the guards had gathered around them, asking Haldir to reconsider, promising to show him pleasure if he would change his mind and stay with them, as they had seldom seen such a fair Elf. Haldir, however ignored them, as he toed off his boots and let his breeches slide down his legs. He was now completely naked before half the city, it seemed, and his face flushed with shame.

Faramir swallowed hard as Haldir said that he would stay still if he ordered him to. He nodded. “Then you won’t wear them,” he said unable to bring himself to make it a direct command. Boromir backed away, bowing his head slightly a sign of honor to Haldir that would be imperceptible to the others gathered further away.

When Haldir leaned against him to remove his boots, Faramir simply stood there, normally he couldn’t look away from Haldir when he undressed but this time he found he couldn’t look at him at all. His eyes stayed downcast and simply waited as his slave undressed. When he was done, Faramir took his hands and led Haldir to the iron cross, placing his hands on the upper brace himself. “I’m sorry,” he whispered for only Haldir to hear and then gently gathered his hair, sweeping it over his shoulder to expose his back before moving away.

While Haldir still refused to even consider taking back the words he’d said to Denethor, he wished he could spare Faramir the task of punishing him. He’d rather anyone else have done it, because he knew full well that this wouldn’t be easy on his master. Haldir was fairly certain that Faramir cared for him almost as one would care for a friend. He knew he was only a slave, but he couldn’t discount all the time he and his master had laughed together, had relaxed and simply pleasured one another, rather than having the slave only pleasure the man he was bound so serve. His fingers wrapped around the brace and he shivered as his hair was swept to one side by still gentle fingers. He wanted to apologize to Faramir, but before he could, Faramir had stepped away. A guard set up a long wooden bar in front of Haldir and secured it away from the cross, pushing his hips back so that his backside was even more exposed and his arms strained to hold on to the braces. The position offered the slave being punished no space to maneuver, no where to go when he would automatically seek a moment’s respite from the whip.

Faramir simply stood back and waited. It was silent in the courtyard, the on lookers knowing that they had never seen Faramir punish a slave before. He’d always been one to defend them, to speak against punishments and now he was here before them. “Here and remember, don’t try to hold back. Control your blows, direct them, but don’t try to pull back or the lash will cut deeper,” Boromir whispered as he handed the whip to his brother. He knew Faramir hated this; he too hated it and had rarely whipped his slaves though on occasion had no choice. “Just remember, Haldir asked for this…and not the guards,” Boromir said hoping to alleviate some of the guilt he saw shining in his brother’s eyes.

Nodding, Faramir took a deep breath and stepped forward. “How many lashes, my lord steward?” he asked addressing his father in a voice that was much more calm and clear than he felt.

Almost more than seeing the insolent blond Elf humiliated and beaten, Denethor was enjoying seeing the way Faramir was reacting to everything. If this was what it took for his youngest to finally be a real man, and learn that pain and shame were a real, necessary part of a slave’s life to keep them in their places, then he wanted to make sure Faramir remembered this, his first time at the punishment cross. Not to mention the fact that he planned on doing his best to goad the Elf in the future…so this entire situation might just be a regular occurrence. If nothing else, it would bring the haughty creature down a notch or two. “Well,” he said, drawing out the word for as long as he could, loving the sight of Haldir naked and helpless before him, awaiting his word, “he did insult his betters, which is a punishment of 5 lashes, and I think because it was me of all people, the man who allows him to stay in my city and eat the food my servants provide, I think another 5 lashes would well be in order here. Then, he refused to apologize, he raised his voice to me, and he refuses to admit that I am right…so, I think a total of 20 lashes would be sufficient, Faramir. And make them good ones too. If any lash fails to leave a welt, then I will add on 2 more to make up for it.”

Faramir opened his mouth; almost ready to argue when his father decreed 20 lashes and more if he didn’t mark Haldir. He was almost ready to barter like he’d seen other masters do, to ask that he would prefer his slave to have fewer marks but he knew his father was angry enough. He didn’t wish to risk pushing him further. “So be it,” he nodded solemnly and prayed that Haldir would forgive him. He tried to even block out that it was Haldir at all before him as he drew back and let the whip fly. His heart felt as if it were ripped in half the moment the leather slapped loudly against fair skin.

Determined not to give Denethor the satisfaction of screaming, Haldir gritted his teeth the moment he heard the whip cutting through the air. His hands tightened on the braces high above him and he felt a searing pain across his right shoulder that went all the way down to his left hip. He stared straight ahead, concentrating on his breathing, remembering the day Faramir had pretended to punish him that day in his rooms. “Elves do not scream,” he’d said, rather arrogantly. Well, this would be a test to that statement, he knew, but he was certainly going to at least hold out as long as he could.

As Faramir withdrew the whip from the first lash he could already see the red stripe forming and bit his lip as he continued. Each one seemed to make him feel worse than the first, each time he saw Haldir’s body flinch even the slightest, each time he saw another welt it tore at his heart. He wasn’t sure how he’d managed the first ten strikes but he continued, hearing the dull cry of one of the guards counting off the lashes. Other than that, and the noise of the whip cutting thru the air and crashing against tender skin the courtyard was still eerily silent.

By the time Haldir heard the guard call out “eighteen!” he was nearly ready to collapse, but he told himself he could take two more, and he would not shame Faramir by having to be restrained. His shoulders, back, and backside all felt as if they were on fire, each deep welt and laceration that made a perfect line across his skin blending together into one great mass of pain unlike anything he’d ever known. He’d been pierced by arrows, cut by swords, and been wounded in countless battles, but those pains flared quickly and then dulled, unlike this…each time the lash would bite into him, each old pain would burn anew and he had bitten through his lip in an effort not to make a sound. Blood ran from his mouth, and he could feel the coolness of even more blood covering his back from the deep lashes. Two more…do not shame him. Take two more and you will be finished…

Faramir had to bite back the tears in his eyes as he swung his arm the final time. Haldir hadn’t screamed, he’d stood there, held on and had been so honorable against it all. Faramir waited to see if his father was satisfied, feeling his stomach lurch each time he saw the blood on Haldir’s back. Gods he hated this, hated is father, and hated this city he’d grown up loving and willing to die to protect. Nothing mattered but the one person he’d just been forced to hurt.

As the last lash fell, Haldir let his head hang forward, breathing shallowly, only waiting for Faramir to tell him he could move. He didn’t see Denethor approaching, one hand cupping his chin as he ‘admired’ the damage to formerly unmarred, pale skin. Reaching out to slap his hand hard against Haldir’s backside, just over one of the deepest cuts, he hoped to get a reaction, but Haldir, despite his surprise, simply gasped and held tighter onto the handles above him. Overall, Denethor had been disappointed – not one scream had fallen from the Elf’s lips, not one plea for mercy. Ah well…there’s always next time. And there will be a next time, you pathetic little slave, I can promise you that. He saw Faramir approaching, and quickly reached up to tangle his fingers in long blond hair, jerking Haldir’s head back. “This isn’t over,” he whispered fiercely. “I’ll still have you screaming before me and begging my forgiveness as you tell me how right I was about my sorry excuse for a son.”

Haldir, teeth still gritted in defiance, narrowed his eyes and forgot his pain for a moment as anger washed over him. “Over my dead body…or yours, which I think is much more likely,” he ground out.

Faramir stopped just before his father and Haldir, anger flashing in his eyes as he tried to manage not to make things even worse. “I have given the punishment you ordered as is your right, now I will tell you as my father and as my steward until the laws of our country are changed you will never lay hands on my property again,” he growled low only for the three of them to hear. “If we are done here, I would like to take my slave back to our quarters to be treated.” He’d purposefully said ‘our quarters’ rather than his just to irritate his father even more but knowing he could do little about something so trivial.

Denethor tightened his fist in Haldir’s hair before pulling his hand away, purposefully taking several dozen long strands with it as he glared at his son, the words “our quarters” making him all the more furious. “I was simply telling him of our laws, Faramir, surely you would not begrudge the steward of your city, not to mention your father, a moment to remind a slave of why he is being punished?”

“You may speak to him all you like, but do not touch him again, father,” Faramir said short of threatening the older man.

Knowing that half the city was watching them, Denethor forced a smile to his face as he looked at his son. “My apologies, Faramir,” he said loudly, his voice calm and friendly even though his eyes were dark with anger. “Such a fine slave you have here, I forgot my manners for a moment.” He nodded at Faramir, giving him permission to help Haldir down from the cross and couldn’t resist smirking. “It’s a wonder you enjoy fucking him so much…personally, I like my slaves to scream when I hurt them…makes it a bit more…exciting, don’t you think?” Without waiting for Faramir to answer, Denethor turned on his heels and walked away, feeling oddly satisfied with himself as he headed back toward the main hall of the citadel.

Faramir glared at his father’s back, half tempted to say that he had no problem making Haldir scream with pleasure not pain but decided not to waste his breath. He turned his attention to his lover and carefully helped him. “Hold onto me,” he whispered as he as gently as he could and picked Haldir up, cradling the bleeding body against him. His hands were covered in blood now and it made him ache. “Do you wish me to send for a healer?” he asked as he started to head toward their room.

Biting his lip to keep from moaning as Faramir picked him up, Haldir wrapped both arms around his master’s neck and closed his eyes. He’d be wondering how he could walk away from the cross with any dignity, and was relieved beyond words when Faramir simply picked him up so carefully and carried him toward the room they shared. “No,” he whispered weakly, shaking his head and holding on more tightly to Faramir’s neck. “No healers…just you. Will you stay with me for a while?”

“I’ll stay as long as you need me to,” Faramir whispered, his voice thick with emotion. He walked slowly, carrying Haldir as carefully as he could, but knowing that no matter how careful he was, that his lover was in pain. When they arrived at the room, Faramir carried Haldir directly to the bedroom and carefully laid him on his side and helped him roll onto his stomach. “Just rest while I get some things,” he whispered brushing soft golden hair back from Haldir’s face.

Determined not to let Faramir see how much pain he was in, Haldir rested his head on his arms and closed his eyes. “If you need to go, my Lord, and attend to…something else, I would understand,” he said softly, doing his best not to move or even breathe too deeply, knowing that it would take almost nothing at all to make the pain even more unbearable than it already was. He was fairly certain he couldn’t stand any more pain at that moment, yet he also knew it would raise eyebrows if Faramir spent the afternoon taking care of him, rather than leaving him to fend for himself or simply turning him over to the healers. On top of his disobedience, Haldir didn’t want to add any more burdens to Faramir’s shoulders.

“Stop that, you know there is no where I would rather be than right here with you, Haldir,” Faramir whispered softly. He had hoped that Haldir would at least have known that about him by now. He winced though when his lover seemed to be in so much pain he was taking shallow breaths. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered pressing a gentle kiss against his temple. He left the room and quickly gathered the things he needed. When he returned his heart seemed to lurch in his chest as he looked at Haldir on the bed. Gods, the idea he had done that to him, despite the fact he had no choice it still broke his heart. “Gods, I’m so sorry about this…all of it,” he whispered as he sat carefully on the edge of the bed. “No matter what you said, you didn’t deserve this.”

Haldir slowly turned his head and tried to smile at Faramir. “There is nothing for you to be sorry for,” he murmured. “Your father said some things that made me lose my temper, and even as I told him how I felt, I knew what could happen.” He moved his hand from beneath his head and rested it on Faramir’s knee, squeezing gently. “I still do not regret what I said, I only regret that you feel guilty…and I only ask that please, for me, you try to stop feeling that way.”

Nodding but unable to answer for the moment, Faramir rested his hand over Haldir’s. He shook his head and sighed. “It doesn’t change the fact that I was the one who had to do this…and that it is my fault you are here at all,” he felt tears sting his eyes and looked away. “I should tend these,” he swallowed hard and cleared his throat, “before…the…the blood dries.” Carefully he wet a soft cloth and knew no matter how gentle he was, he would end up causing Haldir even more pain.

“Nothing is your fault,” Haldir said as he put his head back on his arms and took a deep breath, holding on to the anger at Faramir’s father to help him through the pain of the next half hour. His jaw hurt from gritting his teeth, but he didn’t want to make Faramir feel even worse than he already did, so he managed to make almost no noise at all as his wounds were cleaned. By the time his shoulders and upper back had been tended to, though, he needed a few moments to gather himself before Faramir continued and the pain overwhelmed him. His master’s touch was gentle, but it still hurt, as the cuts were deep and the skin still overly sensitive. “I…could I have some water, or….or maybe some of that Elven wine you keep in the cupboard before we continue? I am a little thirsty.”

Faramir felt his heart break with each deep welt and cut he uncovered as he cleaned the blood from his lover. He had to fight back tears and when Haldir spoke he almost startled. “Yes…of course,” he said softly. Faramir figured the wine would probably be more helpful than water at this point and returned as soon as he could. “Here, perhaps it’ll dull the effects a little…I…I should have thought of something like that before,” he whispered helping Haldir raise up enough to take a drink. “The salve should take away most of the sting…I…you bled quite a bit from some of them…I…Gods,” he sighed unable to say anything else. The tears welled up so quickly he was unable to fight them this time so he simply tipped his head down hoping Haldir wouldn’t notice.

The momentary break was enough to help Haldir relax a bit, and he knew the strong wine would dull the pain. As he started to lie back down, however, he heard Faramir’s voice trail off and watched as he bowed his head. Knowing his master as well as he did, Haldir was certain that Faramir’s emotions were getting the better of him. He wanted to simply pull his lover down next to him and close his eyes, but he knew that Faramir wouldn’t rest until all his wounds were clean. Ignoring the pain, he leaned up and pressed a kiss against a now tear-stained cheek that Faramir was trying his best to hide from him. “I am fine,” he said softly, vowing again not to let his lover see how badly he hurt. “I promise, Faramir, I am fine…I will heal in no time, and the pain really is not that bad.”

Faramir looked up as Haldir pressed a kiss against his cheek even with his lip so bruised. “No…no you aren’t fine,” he whispered carefully pressing his lips against Haldir’s. He simply looked at his lover, feeling the tears streaming down his face and certain that he looked a fool. “We’ll make sure that you will be fine though…I promise Haldir…I’ll do everything in my power to keep this from ever happening again.” I couldn’t stand this again…I couldn’t. I’d rather they beat ME for not following the laws.

Haldir sighed and lifted one hand up to brush the hair back from Faramir’s temple. “You worry too much about a mere slave,” he said softly. “Besides…I sometimes think I have brought you more aggravation than pleasure since I was brought here.” As he spoke, he lay back down and pulled his hair to one side so Faramir could finish tending to his wounds, hoping that he would simply rest beside him as soon as he was done.

Faramir shook his head. “No, you’ve brought me more joy and pleasure than I’ve ever known, Haldir. Never doubt that,” he whispered. When his lover lay back down again Faramir took a deep breath and continued with his task of cleaning and then applying the thick salve to the wounds. When he was finished he set everything aside and then stripped out of his soiled clothes, throwing them away rather than keeping them to be laundered and slipped into his robe. “Do you need anything? Anything at all? I could ask for some herbs to help you sleep if you think that would help?”

“If you are truly offering anything at all,” Haldir said as he reached out his hand, “then I would ask you to take that robe back off and let me rest against you.”

Faramir thought his heart might just melt inside his chest and nodded quickly. “Of course, lo…my lovely one,” he whispered just catching himself. He removed his robe again and carefully crawled into the bed. “I don’t wish to hurt you…you…you show me what you want,” he whispered afraid to touch Haldir and hurt him again.

Haldir moved slowly until he lay flush against Faramir, careful not to put too much pressure on the sorest parts of his body. His head rested on his lover’s shoulder and he smiled without really thinking about it now that they were lying close again. “I would like your arms around me,” he said when he’d finally settled in and thrown one arm over Faramir’s lower chest. “And I would like you to kiss my forehead, like you do after you think I have already fallen sleep.”

Watching as Haldir slowly moved to lie against him, Faramir’s arms wrapped around him carefully just as requested. His eyes widened when Haldir continued and he realized how careful he really should be, because more than once he’d professed his love after he thought Haldir was asleep. He leaned forward though and kissed him tenderly. “Let’s rest then and let me know if you need anything…anything at all,” he whispered softly, brushing another kiss across his forehead.

“I will,” Haldir promised, thinking about tales so many of the other slaves told about being punished and then thrown alone into a cell or into their master’s room with little or no care at all for their pain or comfort. “Thank you for taking care of me,” he whispered, his voice beginning to slur as exhaustion took over and he drifted off to sleep. He’d only been asleep for a moment when he snuggled closer and moaned in his sleep, the hours of hiding his pain forgotten as his defenses were lowered and the movement caused his backside to ache anew.

Faramir knew Haldir was falling asleep but whispered the words. “I always would if it were possible.” He knew it was likely Haldir hadn’t heard him at all or if he had he would dismiss it if he did remember. After a moment, Haldir snuggled close and moaned in pain. It broke Faramir’s heart all over again and he pressed his lips against him. “Shhh…stay still, love, it’s all right. I have you,” he whispered softly knowing the slave wouldn’t remember his words.

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