Faramir Fiction Archive

Pain Is A Lesson (NC-17)

Written by Alatariel

16 March 2007 | 2246 words

Pairing: Faramir/Boromir
Warnings: Non-con incest… a bit of whipping…
Summary: Faramir requires eternal lessons from Boromir for his foolishnesses and blindness to human faults…

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Like a dazzlingly sun-drenched afternoon becomes darkened with storm clouds, his eyes became filled with malevolence. All his rage came up inside him, his loneliness from having been separated from his brother for days on end, following his commands, and now to come home and find him watching with suspicion and a wildfire in his eyes. He would not tolerate being disregarded. Boromir must speak.

His brother’s face became tormented, as if under attack from some invisible force. Faramir couldn’t watch this; he couldn’t think that Boromir felt the pain as he did! Unexpectedly he felt wild revolt.

“How dare you scare me so selfishly, brother!” he declared.

Without regarding his brother, Boromir vanished in a great flurry. Seconds later his bedroom door could be heard slamming shut.

Faramir hurried after him, reaching the door, only to hear the lock slide before he reached out to pull the door open again.

“Boromir, let me in,” he cried. “Why will you not see me? Why did you leave me? Tell me what have I done?” In desperation he banged his fists on the door, rapidly becoming maddened with fear… anxiety… loneliness even.

After a while he turned and slid down the door, his back against the door, and wept silently. He imagined that banging and kicking the door was having no effect: the door itself was relatively indestructible.

The weeping became audible sobs, and still Boromir made no move to open the door. Inside, Boromir sat at the windowsill with a face-unreadable.

The sobs became scattered sniffles, and Faramir once again became enraged. He ran down the hall, into the weapons haul, and retrieved a great battle-axe. Heaving it up the hall again, he took a huge swing and crashed through the lock on the great door. Again and again he swung the axe until the door dangled open on its hinges. There Faramir could see through the atmosphere, thick with tension… or was it anger?… sat Boromir, with a now incredulous look upon his face.

“How dare you!” he growled, and in an instant was up and standing before his younger brother. The axe dropped to the ground with a clatter, and with seemingly no effort at all, enclosed his hands around Faramir’s tunic and threw him towards the bed.

“Why do you do this to me?” Faramir demanded. “You cannot treat me like this without telling me first what it is that I have done to you. Why did you send me away? Why are you avoiding me?” His voice faltered now, and tears again rose in his eyes. The younger man was not hurt physically, yet still he drew himself into a ball on the bed, not unlike he did when he was a small child, when the thunder would remind him of his roaring father.

Boromir presently returned from the unhinged door. He had managed to prop it back into place and level the small chest at his bed near it to hold it in place. He now strode back and forth in front of the bed. Lines creased his forehead, and the grinding of teeth could be heard.

“You dare knock my door down.” He now faced Faramir, watching with strange seriousness as his brother cringed as he spoke. “I do not have to endure such childish behaviour from you.”

“S-s-something has changed in you. Something has… has snapped… in… in your h-head.” The younger man stammered, and then, “You are not Boromir.”

As if by magic, he disappeared in a swirl of cape and tunic. Indeed it was as if the words caused something in Boromir to snap. He returned almost as dramatically, with a long belt in his hand. Faramir could not accept as true what had just happened, and sat up, edging towards the back of the bed, his face a picture of disbelieving amazement.

“No. Boromir. You would not. I do not believe you could do this.”

“No? On the contrary, it will be my pleasure.” The elder man growled, as he came towards his shrinking brother and seized a handful of hair from the back of his head in his hand. With that he threw Faramir face down on the bed, and reached for his small dagger to rip into the tunic and leggings, and threw the tattered clothes into the corner.

“Pain is a lesson best learned with issues close to the heart… or in your case, little brother, close to the skin.” Boromir responded to the look of bewilderment Faramir gave him as he now tried in vain to face him. Slapping his head back down, Boromir brought the belt down onto naked skin.

He would have cried out in pain, but for the pillow being crushed into his face and throat as his head was pushed further. Again and again he felt the belt come down, and he felt himself drift. Pain was not pain… it was… gone.

Sun poured into the room, and drenched the sleeping figure on the bed with warmth and radiance.

‘A dream… perhaps?’ He thought to himself. This thought was soon quashed as movement caused great rivers of torment to run up his thighs. Lying still for a while, Faramir considered all that he remembered. Stray thoughts lingered, he tried to push them away. One remained: ‘Boromir?’

As if called out loud, vengeance stirred in the corner.

Faramir responded to the movement, and tried to get up. He winced with pain, and the sensation of something wet on the back of his legs startled him. Crying out with panic and fright, he felt the welts forming where the wetness was, and saw blood on his hands. Panicked, he attempted to rear away from the now looming figure of his brother.

“Monster!” Faramir spat at him.

Suddenly, he felt his elder brother cover him. It was not the heavy feeling of being crushed, held into place, unable to move. No. This was an embrace!

He felt the deft and quick fingers of Boromir shed the last of the torn clothes from his body, then fingers lightly on his neck, or was it lips? Pain ripped through his being, but he was determined to stay conscious. This was what he wanted, was it not? He wanted to be with Boromir. He needed him. He was his protector, his saviour when all else grew dark. His best friend. His comforter.

‘Yes,’ Faramir thought, ‘I must relish this.’

He was carried to a sumptuous fur mat, laid gently down, and felt cool, wet cloths touching his injuries. The sting was terrible, unbearable, but Faramir remained in mind and consciousness.

“I love you, little brother,” Boromir whispered.

Faramir did not respond. He closed his eyes, and there came a tender touch on his neck, then on his legs. Lips, not fingers. Underneath, he felt his groin throb and swell. This was not right.

“Boromir, you cannot…” he started, and instantly regretted it. A hand came down hard and fast, quick and startling onto his legs. Faramir screamed in agony and attempted to crawl away. The heavy hand of his brother came to rest on his legs and injuries in such a way that Faramir was forced to be still, for movement would result in agony.

Sobbing into the fur, Faramir kept his face hidden from view. He could hear noises behind him, yet dared not to move. Unbeknownst to him, Boromir removed his own clothes with a rage revealed in full awfulness and horror on his face. He was shaking with wrath, knuckles gone white from being clenched in his fury at his brother. ‘Why did he come here to me? This is more than I can bear. Stupid fool of a child. He now pays for his actions. Does he not know what he does to me?’

With his strong hands Boromir dragged the weeping shape from the rug and slammed Faramir again onto the bed. Shock spread over his tear-stained face as he realised his brother was naked, and aroused as never he had seen him before. As a brother should not see of his own…

“I don’t understand,” Faramir cried. In all desperation he tried to grab for Boromir to hug him, looking for a brotherly touch, brotherly embrace, brotherly comfort. ‘This was all I sought from my brother, ever. What is this he reads in me? He must be mistaken.’ The elder brother slapped his face and growled at him, his face a jigsaw of rage and frenzy.

“You could not stay away. Ever have you been slow in seeing other people as they are, little brother. Could you not see how you affected me?” Boromir snarled but inches from his younger brother’s face, his fingers distorting Faramir’s distressed face.

“You, evil, mischievous child, have stolen my sanity, with your handsome face, lithe and slender limbs, pouting and luscious mouth, your luxurious movements… you… you are driving me insane, and all I think of is you. But you are my brother. MY BROTHER!” Boromir now screamed and spat in his face.

Clumsy gestures now tore at Faramir’s taunted and tattered body. His arms were flung out at his sides and pinned down. Rough kissing of his ears. The sucking came hard, rhythmically, teeth grazing his nipples. Suddenly he was flung over onto his stomach. He felt his nether regions parted by Boromir’s rough and unforgiving hands.

“Can you not have opened your eyes and paid the smallest heed to my ache, to my pain? So plain it was in front of you, how you tormented me. And I? I thought I was impervious to your beauty. I! Boromir the Great Warrior of Gondor!”

A great burning and truly intense pain tore through Faramir as his brother entered him. Too hard. Too tight. Excruciating!

And yet peace came to him, like a cleansing white light bathing him. Was this unconsciousness again? Or was this clarity?

It mattered not.

“That was deserved, Faramir,” a small, quivering voice could be heard in the darkness.

Shimmering white light fell on the blackened shadow of his brother. Faramir turned his head away from the vision, buried his face deep, while tears fell silently soaking into the covers. His body was coarsing with violent sobs and shudders. Somewhere in his being he felt his demise, his downfall, was indeed deserved. Why would it happen otherwise? It would not. Would it?

“I sent you away… b-b-because I could no longer t-trust myself around you,” Boromir stammered. “You thought my over-zealous embraces for you were simply a proof of our deep brotherly love, did you not? So you reciprocated… did you not know how this t-t-tore me apart?”

Inside, Faramir thought he now understood. He had believed Boromir to be simply loving and caring, as brothers are. Faramir believed he had one relationship by which he could put all his energy into, and not be hurt. His mother was dead. Gone. And it hurt. His father abandoned his need for a familial love. He felt no love for a woman, or friends, of which he had few. But Boromir was his lifeline, his support, his salvation, his sustenance.

Yet Boromir’s love for his brother had superseded all Faramir’s expectations. ‘How could he not have seen it?’

“Then this is why you sent me away?” he began. “You avoided me, filled me with disquiet. Because you would not be able to resist me if I awakened in you desires you could not suppress?” Every word hurt inside and out. Every thought was tearing his emotional state into shreds. Rain began to fall outside.

Boromir sat next to him, tears of sadness and regret mingled with tears of shame and humiliation. That he could do nothing to restrain himself. He caused the pain that was audible through the sharp intake of breath from his bleeding and broken brother. And could he even detect tears of joy from himself? How appropriate!

The moon appeared from behind clouds. As clear and translucent as the night had now become, also plain and understandable was Boromir’s delight. And, to his horror, to Faramir also.

As if enlightened, Boromir now spoke. “Now I have had you,” he whispered through smiling lips, “I must have you again. And again!” Eyes large with expectant desire.

Laughter, cruel and piercing filled the room. Evil, Faramir deemed, was now dwelling in Boromir again.

“Do you not see that this is your eternal punishment. The folly of being blinded by people’s goodness. The foolishness in not being able to see faults, and weaknesses, and burdens. Yes, this is punishable. For you could not see in me that you were – no – ARE my weakness. And because of your blindness, you did nothing to help me. You baited me! Fool. FOOL!” Hands roughly scratched and smothered Faramir with bitter caresses.

Panic again filled Faramir’s head. ‘For the love of one, I receive the torment of a thousand…’ The hardness of Boromir again ripped through his body and thoughts.

“You, my little brother, shall be reminded day and month and year gone by of your foolishness. That you broke my door down is like unto the broken-down walls of my defences from you. Pain indeed is a lesson best learned with issues close to the heart… or in your case now, little brother, close to my heart…”

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