Faramir Fiction Archive

Only if… (NC-17)

Written by Sairalinde and Anorienbean

29 June 2007 | 85653 words

Chapter 8

Haldir was muttering to himself as he navigated the hallways he now knew almost as well as Men who’d spent their entire lives at the Citadel. The route from the library to Faramir’s room was now quite familiar, and he could traverse it with his eyes closed… which was exactly what he was doing for all intents and purposes, as he was behind a double armload of books stacked higher than his head. He’d lost track of time, and was, most likely, going to be late for dinner with Faramir. But there were as many books for Faramir as for himself, so he was fairly certain his master wouldn’t mind at all. The books were new, and Haldir was sure Faramir would enjoy them, so he was moving quickly, excited that Faramir had the afternoon free and they could relax and read before the fireplace. There were several open hallways on each side of him, and he tried to stay close to the walls and out of everyone’s way, but more than once in his haste he’d almost dropped one of the uppermost books down a flight of stairs or out an open window.

Denethor was engrossed in his thoughts about the earlier council meeting and glancing at his notes when he turned the corner and ran into someone coming up from the library. They were in one of the connecting corridors that had several staircases leading into and out of it and before he knew it, whomever he’d bumped into had dropped several books and went tumbling down the opposite staircase. Denethor stopped for only a moment. He saw long pale golden hair and blanched realizing which of the slaves it probably was. He didn’t go to check to see if the crumpled being on the landing below was alive or not though. A slave simply wasn’t worth his time. Denethor simply glared at it and shook his head. “Stupid slave,” he muttered thinking the slave shouldn’t have even been out of his room, but Faramir was too easy on the Elf. So he simply continued on his way. He knew his son liked that one though, the man frowned then. That one was the first he’d ever claimed so on his way he mentioned to a guard to pass that way on their rounds. He never considered checking on the Elf’s welfare himself. It was beneath him to do such a thing and if the Elf was terribly hurt or dead, Faramir could always find another. There had been many golden Elves taken in the last few months. Surely he could find a replacement for that one easily enough.

Haldir’s books went flying in every direction as he suddenly felt the all-too-solid presence of someone in front of him. With a total and utter lack of gracefulness that was completely unlike him, he bounced head over heels down the stairway, landing solidly on his side, his shoulder, his lower back, and then, finally, hitting the back of his head on the floor a few feet in front of the last step. He had just enough time to think that he hurt everywhere before the ache in the back of his head seemed to make everything around him fall in and out of focus for a moment, then everything went completely dark and silent. Now I’ll be even later…

When the steward told him to make a pass through such a little used stairway, Drevin was curious but didn’t question. He’d learned long ago not to question an order, to simply follow it. But as he approached he found books scattered across the floor before he looked down the stairs and saw the crumpled body there. “Gods,” he muttered as he took the steps two at a time. When he saw it was an Elven slave though he paused and wondered what he should do. Just touching someone else’s property even to help them could be punishable depending on the master. As he stared at the Elf though he thought for a moment he recognized him. Lord Faramir’s slave? He pursed his lips and then ran back up the steps, kicking the books aside and went to find a higher ranking guard.

Faramir was standing on the practice field with Damrod when one of the citadel guards walked up quickly. “Lord Faramir? There has been an accident, your… slave has fallen,” the man began and Faramir was already moving.

“Is he all right?” He asked, as fear gripped him imagining all sorts of scenarios, none very comforting.

“He’s… well he isn’t conscious, probably hit his head,” the guard said, hard pressed to keep up with the young man who was practically running. The guard directed him, and Faramir’s heart that was already in his throat seemed to choke him even more. “Oh Gods, Haldir,” he murmured as he ran down the stairs and carefully brushed hair back from his lover’s forehead. He could see his chest rising and falling, so some of his panic seemed to ease but only a little. “What happened?” he asked Drevin.

“I… don’t know,” he said not mentioning the steward’s words to him. “I just found him here.”

Faramir frowned, and carefully scooped an unconscious Haldir into his arms, wincing when the Elf moaned in pain. “It’s all right, my golden one, I’ve got you,” he whispered and didn’t see the shocked look in Drevin’s eyes. The young guard had never seen anyone speak so kindly to any slave before.

Feeling as if he were suddenly weightless, a wave of nausea hit Haldir even before he was fully conscious. He heard Faramir’s voice, however, and felt soothed, though he vaguely remembered several of the other slaves saying they’d either been sent away from their masters when they were sick or injured, (which was, in most cases, a blessing) or ordered to continue their duties without interruption, despite any pain or discomfort they might feel. For the moment, however, he was held so gently by arms that could only be Faramir’s that all he could think of was that he hoped he would get well soon, so as not to disappoint Faramir or make him take another slave as a replacement… .which was ridiculous, of course, as he wasn’t here by choice, but true nevertheless. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around his master’s neck and tried to will away the dizziness and pain that seemed to hit him in great waves. His lips pressed against Faramir’s neck and he murmured softly. “I am sorry, my Lord… it was an accident…”

When Haldir stirred in his arms, Faramir felt relief wash over him as he carried him back upstairs to their room. “Shhh, shhh, its all right. You’ve done nothing to be sorry for,” he whispered. Once at the door, his guard posted there opened it for him. “Send for Elreath,” he said as he passed into the room. “Where do you want to be? The couch? The bed?” he asked as he looked at Haldir and felt his heart break as he saw a bruise forming on his beautiful, though extremely pale face.

Haldir swallowed back his nausea and forced himself to relax. So Elreath would be the one taking care of him? Not what he wanted, but what did he expect? He was a slave and Faramir had more important matters to attend to than to waste time on him and his clumsiness. Besides, there was concern in his voice, which was much more than most slaves ever got from their master. “Wherever is out of your way,” he said softly. “Though… I think I am going to be sick…” He struggled to get down, not wanting to take a chance on making a mess of Faramir’s clothes, but the movement seemed to only make him sicker. “Gods… everything is spinning…”

Faramir tightened his hold on the struggling Elf in his arms and wondered at his words. Out of my way? He carried Haldir to the bath where the chamber pot was and used one hand to yank a large towel into the floor so Haldir could sit on it instead of the cold floor. He set Haldir down and before he could lean away to grab another towel Haldir was already retching. Faramir scooted close behind him, wrapping his arm around his lover’s shoulder to help him sit up right and used his other hand to gather his long golden hair back. “It’s all right… I’ve got you,” he whispered softly.

A cold sweat seemed to cover every inch of Haldir’s skin as Faramir witnessed his weakness, but try as he might, he couldn’t seem to shake the gut-wrenching nausea that hit him full force again and again. His head throbbed, his ribs ached, and his shoulder was hurt… but none of that was as bad as Faramir seeing him like he was at that moment though. “I am fine,” he managed between great heaving breaths and full body shudders. He tried to reach back and hold his own hair, but that made the pain in his ribs and shoulders all the much more intense. “Gods, I am sorry, my Lord… you should not…” Retching again, he was more than a little grateful for Faramir’s arm around his shoulder, as he didn’t think he had the strength to stay upright. “… you should not have to see this…”

Faramir refrained from the normal banter between them and kept from saying something like ‘yes you look fine’ and sighed. “Hush, its all right,” he whispered. “We are in our rooms, Haldir, you may call me Faramir remember?” He continued to stroke Haldir’s hair and hold him close even as he got sick again. Faramir pressed his cheek between trembling shoulder blades and simply held him, wishing there were more he could do.

The nausea didn’t seem to be getting any better, but the feeling of Faramir holding him and supporting him made Haldir feel marginally better. After several long minutes, he was having nothing more than dry heaves. Even they made his ribs and back scream with agony, and he thought he’d never in all his life felt as sick as he did right then. He reached behind him with one hand just to touch Faramir, and closed his eyes, wondering if his master would return to his duties now or after he’d handed him off to the other Elves to look after him until he was better. “Thank… you, Faramir,” he whispered. “My head hurts so badly I can barely think.”

Faramir closed his eyes as Haldir continued to heave even when there was simply nothing left. He’d seen this happen in battles before, head injuries cause such nausea, it was little wonder Haldir’s head hurt. “I think you hit it pretty hard,” Faramir said softly, as his hand continued to stroke Haldir’s hair, unsure if the action was to sooth his lover or himself at that point. It was starting to set in, the fact that Haldir could have just as easily broken his neck. It frightened him to his core. Faramir had come to grips somewhat with the fact that at the end of the year he would lose the Elf he’d fallen so hard for, but the fact that he would still be ALIVE somewhere seemed to give him hope. As if there were some chance he could see Haldir again. But death… that wasn’t something anyone wished to think of. Once he was certain Haldir was finished being sick, Faramir scooted back a little and scooped the Elf into his arms again.

Laying limply against Faramir’s chest, it occurred to Haldir that despite everything, he was relaxed and at peace when they were together, and there was no place he’d rather be than here in his master’s arms. He wished Faramir weren’t his master of course, but there was no denying that Haldir was comfortable with him, – comfortable enough to overcome his embarrassment about being sick, anyway. He was covered in a cold sweat, and simply lay trembling against his lover for long minutes until he heard a knock on the door and Elreath announced herself. Waiting for Faramir to leave him with Boromir’s pleasure slave, he resisted the urge to cling for a moment, and started to move. “I am sure you need to get back to your duties… but thank you for staying with me this long,” he whispered, completely letting his guard down as the room continued to spin around him. “It helped, your being here…”

Holding Haldir close against him, Faramir looked up when he saw Elreath open the door. He wondered for a moment at Haldir’s words about going back to his duties but didn’t say anything. Faramir quickly explained the situation to the Elleth and asked her to retrieve some herbs for him to help with Haldir’s pain and his upset stomach. He was thankful that she didn’t start babbling and fretting; she simply followed his instructions and gave Haldir her most encouraging smile she could muster for her friend. Once she exited again, Faramir looked back at Haldir. “Where would you rather be? The couch or the bed?” he asked softly.

“This feels nice right here,” Haldir murmured, burying his face against Faramir’s neck and taking slow, deep breaths. “But I think the bed would probably be better. It will be easier for Elreath to help me with the herbs that way.”

Faramir frowned as he spoke of Elreath. Perhaps Haldir would prefer to have another Elf care for him? “Do… do you want that?” he asked as he carried Haldir to the bed. “I mean… do you want her to take care of you or another Elf? I… I can step aside and let them if you’d be more comfortable.” He set Haldir on the bed as gently as if he were made of glass and moved to take off his boots for him.

“Step aside?” Haldir finally opened his eyes and looked down at Faramir as his boots were removed with such gentleness. “No, I do not want her here, actually, but I do not expect you to waste your time waiting for me to get better. It was not your fault that I fell… and I promise that by the time you come back tonight, I will feel up to… well, to doing whatever you like.”

Usually nimble fingers fumbled and Faramir dropped one of the boots on the floor rather than setting it down gently. “Feel up to? No, no you are going to rest,” he said looking up at Haldir appalled that he would even consider that Faramir force him to… ‘perform’ in his condition. “And… if you don’t want Elreath here, then she will go once she brings what I asked for. I… did you think I intended to leave you in someone else’s care?” he asked curious now as he worked on the other boot and set it more gently against the floor.

Haldir started to nod, but thought better of the idea when the pounding in his head intensified and he had to fight back another wave of nausea. “Well… yes,” he admitted. “I mean… I am here to take care of you, not the other way around, and I know that most masters send their slaves away when they cannot to their jobs. Just because you allow me to act a bit differently behind closed doors, I know I have not done anything to deserve more than that… like the luxury of having you take care of me.”

“Luxury?” Faramir grinned then and stood up to help Haldir out of his clothes. “I want to take care of you… and you can’t deny your master what he wants right?” he said softly as he carefully removed Haldir’s tunic. “Besides… I couldn’t possibly sleep knowing you were in pain and away from me if you were sent to the healers.” He tried to push away the thoughts that he really should get accustomed to that, in less than six months Haldir was leaving… for good.

Haldir’s heart skipped a beat as he stared at Faramir in shock. He was sure it wasn’t unheard of for masters to take care of their slaves, but it certainly wasn’t common practice. It almost hurt to know that Faramir cared enough for him to do such a thing, but it also warmed something in him that he hadn’t even known existed. Right then, he didn’t feel like a slave at all. He felt more like a lover, and he liked that feeling… liked it very much, in fact. “No, I would never deny you anything,” he whispered honestly, stifling a moan as his ribs began to ache as he undressed. “Will you lay here with me then?”

“I’ll join you once I get you settled in if that’s what you want,” Faramir whispered. Mindful of Haldir’s injuries, Faramir helped him undress, and pulled the covers around him then carefully removed the golden combs, and brushed his fingers carefully through his hair. When his finger’s brushed against a large bump, he felt Haldir jump and a muffled moan made his heart ache again. “You hit your head pretty hard,” he said softly. Before Haldir could answer a knock sounded at the door and he rushed to it. He took everything Elreath had brought and carried the tray to the bedroom. “She brought everything we need,” he said setting the tray on the bedside table. He poured hot water into a cup and added some of the crushed herbs he’d asked for. “This will help with both your stomach and your head I think,” he said offering the cup to Haldir.

Stifling another moan as he sat up, Haldir smiled when Faramir helped him and supported him as he drank the bitter tea. “Why do you care so much?” he asked softly. “Why do you treat me so kindly when you do not have to?”

Almost startling as Haldir questioned him, he knew he couldn’t answer the Elf honestly. Haldir was likely to laugh at him if he admitted he was in love with him. “Because as I’ve said before I’m not a cruel man… and… I care about you Haldir. Do you know it nearly scared the life right out of me when I was told you were hurt? It… it frightened me… because I do care what happens to you. I know I don’t have to do anything but… I want to,” he explained carefully.

Haldir, now fully naked and moving with excruciating slowness, tugged the blanket around him and settled himself in Faramir’s lap, the one place in all the world he seemed to be most comfortable. He leaned up and pressed a kiss to the side of his master’s neck then wrapped both arms around his shoulders. “No, you are not a cruel man,” he whispered, already feeling the pull of sleep settling over his entire body. His words began to slur and each little pain became just a bit dimmer. “I sometimes wish we had met as equals… I think we might have…” His words trailed off as he drifted to sleep without even finishing his thought, still clinging to his lover and snoring softly within seconds.

Faramir smiled as Haldir crawled into his lap on his own despite his obvious pain. Such a stubborn one… one of the many reasons I love him. He sighed softly when Haldir’s words trailed off, truly curious how his sentence may have ended. Might have been friends or… or more? Pressing a tender kiss against Haldir’s temple, Faramir carefully shifted in the bed, so that he could easily hold Haldir as he slept. “What am I going to do when you leave?” he asked sadly, for what seemed the millionth time, as he kept watch over his charge.

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