Faramir Fiction Archive

Only if… (NC-17)

Written by Sairalinde and Anorienbean

29 June 2007 | 85653 words

Chapter 3

Faramir had awoken pleasantly warm, despite the coolness of his chamber and had smiled at Haldir as he had awoken next to him. He’d barely managed to keep his hands to himself after the night they’d shared, but decided they would have time for that later.

He and Haldir shared a light breakfast; talking about books they’d both read in common before leaving for the marketplace to buy Haldir some clothing and a few other items.

Faramir would buy him anything he wished at all but the first few stalls they stopped at Haldir had been careful to pass up richer fabrics and at first he found it a sweet gesture. After a while though, Faramir noticed how the stall owners were looking at him. The son of the Steward and his slave— a pleasure slave at that— was looking at the cheapest and most plainly made items? It was a little embarrassing, though he knew Haldir probably had no idea. He was probably wanting to get things he thought a slave was worthy of. Perhaps things in Lórien were different, but in Gondor pleasure slaves were to be somewhat of a showpiece, though Faramir wasn’t about to treat Haldir as some of the ones he’d seen paraded around like pampered pets. But he would hear about it from his father if the merchants told him that his son was dressing his slave cheaply as if he were a laborer or even a house servant. He knew that if he didn’t at least appear to follow ‘tradition’ his father would rant for days.

When Haldir picked up a dark brown tunic in a rough fabric a house servant would wear and saw the merchant frown, Faramir’s hand settled over the Elf’s. “I don’t really care for brown,” he lied moving Haldir toward the more expensive items. “I’d like to see you in this one… it goes really well with your eyes,” he said holding up the rich blue velvet.

Haldir started to say that the brown was more to his liking as it helped him blend into the forest, and he had become accustomed to wearing it. He wasn’t given a chance to say so though, before he was propelled forward and being presented with darker, richer colors that he normally wore only during the most special of occasions back in Lórien. “I… I do not like it,” he said under his breath so that only Faramir could hear him. “It stands out too much, and I prefer not to have everyone’s attention called to me so they can talk about Faramir and his little velvet-clad whore.”

Faramir bit his lip against the insult, though it stung greatly and was thankful that at least Haldir had kept his voice down. He sighed and tried a more subdued color but still a richer fabric than Haldir had been looking at. “This one then?” he asked holding it out to him, knowing the merchant was watching curiously to see what the Steward’s son would buy from him.

The second choice was little better than the first in Haldir’s mind, and he wondered why Faramir didn’t just let him chose his own colors and fabrics and be on with it. He didn’t think his ‘master’ looked very pleased, but he hadn’t said anything about not letting Haldir pick out his own clothes. “I do not like that one either,” he whispered, only now noticing how everyone was looking at him. He instinctively moved closer to Faramir and wondered what they were looking at. “Is something wrong? Besides all the ugly fabrics, I mean?”

“You are with the Steward’s youngest son who’s never had a slave before… they are curious,” Faramir whispered for only Haldir to hear. He held up the garment and looked at the merchant as if Haldir hadn’t just said he disliked all of the fabrics and told him to send three, of varied colors, to his chambers and ignored the pointed look Haldir gave him.

Haldir started to protest that he really didn’t like the garments Faramir had, but snapped his mouth closed at the last minute and folded his arms across his chest. There seemed to be no point in him coming along if Faramir was going to pick out everything, but now was neither the time nor the place to discuss that. As they approached the next stall, he automatically reached for a dark forest green that he’d always loved, only to look and see Faramir holding up a rich, dark blue velvet cloak that Haldir hated on sight. Without a word, he put back the fabric he’d been holding and looked away from Faramir, not understanding why he wanted to parade him around like a prize for all to see.

Faramir glanced at the green that Haldir had held up and frankly did like it better than the blue, but he saw the merchant shake his head with one of those ‘oh that would never do’ looks on his face. He felt trapped between what Haldir wanted, what he himself wanted, and what tradition seemed to demand. He did see Haldir’s eyes land on one of the richer items in that particular stall though, a very plain though beautiful black tunic, and Faramir added it to the small stack of others he knew good and well the Elf hated but were the most expensive. He hoped to send Elreath to get the others that Haldir actually liked sometime later that day. And he would have shared that with Haldir but there were too many others close by. He took Haldir’s hand and led him to the next stall deciding they had enough tunics for now.

Letting himself be led without a word, even as his face flushed a deep red, Haldir reached for a dark brown pair of breeches and, never releasing his master’s hand, looked at him with barely concealed irritation. “I want these,” he said a bit too loudly. “I like brown, and I will be the one wearing it.”

Faramir spun quickly to look at Haldir as he snapped at him in front of one of the merchants, the old man pursed his lips and looked from one to the other and Faramir did the only thing he could do. For the first time ever, he actually threatened to punish Haldir for speaking to him such a way and only because it had been overheard. He jerked the breeches away from him and threw them to the merchant. “Fine. If you speak to me that way one more time, you won’t be wearing them at all because your backside, as beautiful as it is, will be so raw you won’t be able to sit for a week. Understood?”

Haldir’s mouth dropped open and his eyes opened wide as Faramir seemed to change before his very eyes. He reminded himself that he had sworn to be respectful of Faramir, especially in public, but he certainly hadn’t expected the man that had spoke only of being a lonely human wanting Haldir to be close to be threatening him with a raw backside only a few hours later. With as much dignity as he could manage, he stood straighter, squared his shoulders and looked Faramir in the eyes for a split second, knowing his anger and humiliation would be more than apparent in his gaze. After only a moment, he lowered his head and set his jaw, simply refusing to look at Faramir or anyone else. He pulled his hand away from his master and clasped them in front of him in a submissive stance, trying to appease Faramir and the curious onlookers, but truly simply wanting to not touch him anymore. Though Faramir could, and probably would, very likely only take his hand again. “Understood, my LORD Faramir.” Haldir said the right words, but his tone left a bit to be desired, and he knew it, though at the moment, he didn’t really care.

Faramir saw the anger flash in Haldir’s eyes as well as hurt mingled there. He swallowed hard and hardly heard the merchant congratulating him for putting his slave in his proper place. He wanted to scream, but not at Haldir really, he’d had every right to be irritated, just as Faramir did. And he was angry with himself for not explaining more clearly to Haldir about the way things simply were in Gondor. He had forgotten that Haldir just didn’t know. Then as Haldir pulled away and spoke so sarcastically to him again, Faramir reached out and jerked him close. “You are pushing your luck today aren’t you?” he said hearing the merchant beside him clucking something inane about the Elf having a bit too much fire but that their Steward’s son seemed to have him well handled. Faramir wanted to roll his eyes, but instead simply propelled Haldir forward until they were out of the market stalls and heading back toward the citadel. He didn’t speak another word as he marched his slave back to their room and wasn’t sure who he was more angry at. Himself. Haldir. Or those damn curious people and their damnable opinions that always seemed to sway his father.

Shocked into speechlessness again for the second day in a row, Haldir was drug through the streets and saw more than one of the nearby onlookers laughing and pointing. When Faramir opened the door to his room and practically shoved him inside, Haldir turned on him in surprise and couldn’t keep the anger from his eyes even long enough to look away. Instead, he kept their gazes locked and wondered what had just happened? Last night, they had kissed, and Faramir had treated him more like a lover than anything else, this morning, they’d talked and relaxed over their breakfast, and now, suddenly out of nowhere, Faramir had completely switched tracks and was threatening to beat him, not to mention dragging him down the streets for all of Gondor to see. He remembered that Faramir had said inside these walls, he could say what he liked, and wasted no time at all in doing so. “So much for us being companions,” he blurted before even thinking that no, this was not the way he should be acting. “You tried to make it sound nice last night, but obviously you are like all the other Men I have known… a liar, and a user. I doubt you even have any intention of even keeping your end of our bargain!”

Faramir shoved his hands through his hair and took a deep breath as Haldir looked at him. “I am very inclined to beat you right now,” he said shaking his head at Haldir. He saw anger flash again in Haldir’s eyes and stepped toward him. “You promised you would not be disrespectful in public… I have not changed I am simply upholding our bargain. You are who broke it… And as far as a whore, Haldir, I think perhaps it takes a bit more than just allowing me to touch you and taste you until you come for you to be my whore, velvet-clad or not!” he snapped angrily still feeling stung by Haldir’s comment in the marketplace.

Fully prepared for Faramir to strike him, Haldir stepped forward as well, head held high and eyes dark with fury. He had been disrespectful, he knew that, but he’d only been a slave for one day, so he was still trying to get used to the idea. He’d thought Faramir understood, and it’s not like more than one person could have actually heard them. “Pleasure slave, whore, whatever you call me, we both know what everyone thinks I am,” he hissed. “Honestly, why did you even bother taking me to the market if I am not even allowed to pick my own clothes? Why not just buy them yourself and bring them back here… to my prison and your room?”

Faramir sighed heavily and shook his head. “I did not think everything would be such an argument with you today,” he said irritated at not only Haldir but also himself. He knew part of it was Haldir not knowing why, what was expected of a slave in his position. He bit his lip and simply looked at the Elf for a moment. “I will send Elreath for the things that you liked,” he said walking past Haldir to the table to pour himself a glass of water and try to clear his mind.

Haldir looked at Faramir suspiciously for a moment and shook his head. “Do not bother. I am your slave, and there’s no point in my not dressing to please you. I just… I supposed we embarrassed each other. I only wish you had told me that what I wanted should really have been what you wanted, that’s all.” He sat on the edge of the bed, wondering if he really was going to be punished, and telling himself that if he were, he would take it and not utter a word. “So am I being punished or not? I seem to be confused about everything today.”

“If it were for my pleasure you’d wear nothing at all, but it’s a might cold for that isn’t it?” Faramir said sarcastically. He looked up at Haldir though as he sat on the edge of the bed and shook his head. “It was only a threat. Today. Do not push me like this in public again, Haldir, you may not like the outcome. If the merchants had taken offense I would be forced to beat you in public. I do not want that for you… or for myself,” he said setting his glass down. “And this is as much my fault as it is anyone’s… slaves of your stature, belonging to a son of the Steward are expected to be dressed in only the very best. I am at fault for not explaining that before. And… truly if it were to please me… I do like the color blue, like your eyes, they are one of the reasons I was so taken by you the first time I saw you,” he admitted.

Irritated by the ultimatum about the possible outcome, Haldir nevertheless told himself to remember his place. Only yesterday, he had vowed to do as he was told and not antagonize Faramir, who, for the most part had been exceedingly and surprisingly kind to him in every way imaginable. Even last night in bed, when Faramir hadn’t even asked Haldir to touch him. Feeling more than a little embarrassed, Haldir stood, walked closer to Faramir and lowered his eyes, though his jaw was clenched as he spoke. “It is my job to please you,” he said softly, “so I will wear blue. And if you ever take me to the market again, I will show more respect.”

When Haldir came to him, speaking softly, his eyes shuttered and obviously trying his best to be submissive though it wasn’t in his nature, Faramir sighed. “I don’t mind your… fire… here when it is just the two of us,” he whispered tipping Haldir’s chin up so he could look into his eyes. “I just cannot have you act that way in public, it is dangerous,” he added hoping that Haldir would understand.

Haldir found Faramir’s touch more soothing than it had any right to be, even taking the edge off their earlier disagreement. “I know,” he said, realizing that had their positions been reversed and they were living in Lothlórien, his reaction… and the threat… would have been much the same. He gave his master a tentative smile. “I am sorry, Faramir. I did not mean to embarrass you. I guess I am just still trying to… learn my place here.”

“I know,” Faramir said softly, an echo of Haldir’s words and returned the slight smile. “And I am sorry for not explaining before we went… it truly did not occur to me that you simply had no idea what was expected and what I had planned to get the items you liked. The problem was I couldn’t publicly purchase them for you because of my standing at court, so I planned to send Elreath later. But you were right about all of it being very ugly… that rust colored tunic was exceedingly hideous wasn’t it?” he said laughing a little. “We’ll stumble through this together, Haldir.” He wanted to kiss him so badly, he ached to do so, but he let his hand drop away and vowed silently that he wouldn’t force his touch on Haldir any longer if he could help himself. It seemed to only confuse things even more between them. At the bottom of it all, Faramir had simply been lonely, and taken with the Elf. If he could just see him and have someone to share his time with perhaps it would be all right? And Haldir won’t feel even worse having a Man, even one he didn’t find positively disgusting, pawing all over him.

Barely stopping himself from reaching out and taking Faramir’s hand into his own, Haldir laughed and nodded in agreement at both the description of the tunic and the hope that they could stumble through together. He wondered briefly if he should offer to… make it up to Faramir, but something seemed to have changed between them, and somehow, it seemed as if Faramir had almost mentally withdrawn from him. It was more than the hand that dropped away after too short a time; it was the way he looked at Haldir, and the way he seemed to suddenly have his guard up. “I… I suppose I will start on those books from the library,” he said, honestly wishing Faramir would stop him somehow, though he wouldn’t admit it even to himself. “Though, I do not really seem to feel like reading at the moment.”

Faramir nodded as Haldir spoke of the books he’d been so happy about just the evening before. “I should go speak to Elreath, I… I shouldn’t be too long,” he said as he walked away and stopped at the door for only a moment as if hesitating. He wasn’t sure what was the right thing to do. A part of him, yet again thought about their agreement, and how he could simply let Haldir go… but just the idea of that even after one day and even after their argument made him ache. So instead he opened the heavy door and walked out.

It was late in the evening before Faramir finally did return and Haldir was already in bed by that time. He saw the packages had arrived, both the ones Elreath had gotten and the ones the merchants sent.

Quietly, Faramir undressed and slid into the bed, careful not to disturb Haldir or pull him close like he wanted to do. Sighing heavily, he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep.

Haldir was wide-awake when Faramir returned to his rooms later that night. The afternoon had seen package after package delivered and he felt terrible about causing Faramir so much trouble, especially when the brown and olive green tunics began arriving. Faramir had been as good to him as he could be, given the circumstances, and Haldir had been nothing but ungrateful. He started to apologize when he felt the weight of his master on the bed, but he’d already done that, and, judging from the way Faramir had dropped his hand away earlier and was moving so carefully in bed, it was obvious he didn’t want to wake Haldir, though he had every right to. Still unable to simply give in and turn to the man beside him, or simply lay closer, Haldir instead stayed perfectly still and kept his eyes closed. Hours later, when he fell asleep, he was still waiting for any sign from Faramir that he’d forgiven him, though, of course, Haldir was too proud to ask.

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