Faramir Fiction Archive

Scars (R)

08 October 2005 | 9762 words

Part four: Discussion

“I spoke to my nephew.” The statement was a good opener to the needed conversation, and Aragorn reacted by setting down his tea, and looking at the prince of Dol Amroth. Seeing that he now had the king’s attention, Imrahil continued. “He’s improving, but I believe what Faramir requires now is one final push into the light. He lingers too much in his shadow of self-doubt.”

Aragorn raised an eyebrow at his friend’s words. “What exactly do you wish, Imrahil?” When the prince appeared to be reluctant to speak, the king became suspicious. “What are you suggesting, your highness?”

“I think it’s time to force Faramir to acknowledge that things are not as horrible as they may seem, and that he may indeed live a good and happy life.” Imrahil answered, not looking away from his liege. He had thought upon this a great deal and was ready for the hard questions that Elessar would ask of him. It was his great surprise then, when the king answered him.

“Then do so; do whatever you deem necessary.”

Imrahil stared at Aragorn disconcerted by the lack of interest. “My lord?”

Aragorn sighed and stood up. “Imrahil, you know Faramir better than I do. You are his family, the only relative that he has left. You talk with him much easier than I and he...” It was Aragorn now who steeled himself against the bitterness of truth. “He allows you to touch him where he shuns me. If you can help him, then by all means do so. At least one of us should be able to do it.” Despite knowing that it was all in Faramir’s mind, there could be no denying the shame Aragorn felt when he knew that as a healer he could not help his closest friend.

“Aragorn; May I be honest with you for a moment? There is something that I need to confide in you.” Imrahil’s voice was almost inaudible, and there was a faint flush of emotion that had entered his cheeks.

Intrigued, the king nodded encouraging him to continue. There was a pause before Imrahil replied, and Aragorn could tell that the prince’s words were costing him dearly.

“There are incidents in war...though it seems to carry on to places of peace as well, of when people begin to have inappropriate feelings. Sometimes those feelings are returned, and a relationship that would not normally be condoned takes place. Though this is quite rare indeed. Other times,” and at this Imrahil took a deep breath and faced Aragorn. “Other times those emotions are entirely one sided and should not be revealed to the other.”

Aragorn sat very still, attempting to make sense of what Imrahil was trying to tell him. “Imrahil, during war many soldiers are without women. Anything that happens in those hard years-”

“You misunderstand me, my liege. It is true many men find comfort among their brothers in the ranks of Gondor’s armies. I was referring to those who find solace among brothers in their own families.”

Silence.

Aragorn looked at Imrahil, and ran the prince’s words over and over in his mind. “It is true that this happens. Yet I do not understand why you speak to me of this.” Though this was untrue; for in the back of his memory something whispered of a time long ago in Lórien when Boromir spoke of his brother and Aragorn could hear the depth of love in his friend’s voice. Even then, he had been aware, if only peripherally of the bond between the two brothers.

“I think, my lord, you know why I speak of this.” Imrahil had a feeling the king did. The expression on his face surely spoke of an understanding. “I would hope that you would look upon those who have done this with compassion. For it is not their fault that their blood is the same; their heart is given to whom it chooses.”

“I understand what you are saying Imrahil, and yes sometimes exceptions should be made. But why are you telling me this now? Boromir is gone; and Faramir has no more...” Aragorn trailed off, suddenly understanding. It was not true, Faramir did have more family; he had Imrahil. A feeling he had not thought existed within him rose up and swallowed his heart in an impulsive anger. Who did Imrahil think he was to ask him this? Especially when he knew of Aragorn’s own feelings concerning the Steward of Gondor. “I hope you are not asking me to turn a blind eye to a crime, Prince of Dol Amroth.”

“I ask of you to let me show Faramir a better way of life.” Imrahil answered, knowing that he was treading on very thin ice at the moment. Asking Aragorn for permission to bed his Steward was asking a great deal indeed.

“One with you in it, I assume?” Aragorn demanded. Jealousy, it was a bitter taste in his mouth but for some reason he simply could not change his tone. Yes, it would be simply wonderful if Faramir and Imrahil lived together without him, Aragorn thought with irony. He had watched the two interact before, and the sight of Imrahil gently placing a hand on the younger man’s back without being slighted was painful at best. Knowing what they would be doing in the Prince’s chambers while Faramir could not bear even a touch from his king would be intolerable.

“No. Not with me; for he does not want me when he has you. Do not assume that simply because I wish to love him, he will love me in such a way.” Imrahil smiled bitterly. “No, not when he blushes at your name and leaves his sadness behind when I speak of you. He will never blush for me, never have a smile in his eyes for me in the same way he does for you.” Imrahil’s words caught in his throat and he looked away, not able to bear the compassion and pity in his king’s eyes. “He loves you, is in love with you.”

“In a way he shall never be with another,” Aragorn said softly. His jealousy faded in view of Imrahil’s soft grief and compassion welled in his heart. “Imrahil, I am sorry that you hold these feelings. I wish I could help you.”

“You already have.” Imrahil said. “I shall go to my nephew now and speak with him. Perhaps tomorrow shall be a start of something new.”

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