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This story is rated «NC-17», and carries the warnings «Implied and graphic non-con/rape, incest, prostitution, power games, angst».
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Simulacra (NC-17) 
Written by Vanwa Hravani09 November 2011 | 30013 words | Work in Progress
XXVIII
“Faramir! Faramir, wait! Please wait for me!”
Haldir scarcely resisted running to catch up with the rapidly fleeing redhead ahead of him. “Dammit Faramir, come back here!” he muttered under his breath. He did not appreciate being forced to chase the man through the streets and halls like this. No – not forced. He was choosing to behave like a desperate lover, and in public no less. He only hoped no one they knew would see.
“Faramir! I must talk to you!” his voice bounced off the stone halls as he trailed Faramir into the Citadel. It had been two weeks since their electric engagement in the fighting arena, since the intensity of their desire had been made apparent not only between them but to all those observing. And yet still they had scarcely spoken beyond what polite protocol required. Several times Aragorn and others had arranged evening entertainments, but always Faramir found crucial tasks to attend to and sent his regrets. When required by his king to be in attendance, the Steward treated Haldir with the same familiarity and respect he showed his brothers, but neither sought him out nor allowed himself to be engaged in one-on-one conversation. Outside of these official functions, Faramir was far too skilled at evasion to be caught off-guard, even with their rooms adjacent as they were. Haldir had begun to suspect Faramir of using the Citadel’s hidden corridors to avoid confrontation.
But this day, he had come upon Faramir quite by chance in the market of the Fourth Level. He had been wandering aimlessly, enjoying the bustle of sunlight and people, when a familiar smile flashed in his peripheral vision. He had turned to see Faramir laughing with an old soldier, clasping his shoulder. As he watched, Faramir stilled briefly to listen to another man, grinned wickedly, and replied. A roar of amusement erupted from those around. An older woman swatted playfully at him with her cloth. Faramir bowed to her, saluted the others casually, and turned gracefully to go. Haldir was struck by the easy set of his shoulders, the relaxed rhythm of his step. This was a Faramir he had not seen before. A peaceful and confident man, one who loved people at a glance, was loved in return, and knew it. Haldir wondered at the dramatic change. Momentarily it struck him that this might be the man most people always saw, and that he only saw someone else because Faramir acted differently with him — or perhaps because his own eyes were filmed with other knowledge. The man he stood watching in this market square was one anyone would be proud to call friend, would thrill to have as a familiar visitor, and would rest easy to be flanked by in battle. Even admiring from a distance, Haldir felt his body begin to awaken to the idea of standing by Faramir. The solidity, the respectfulness, the smooth creamy firmness of him…
‘Faramir, Wait!’ he shouted again.
To Be Continued
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I am looking forward to reading more of this – I adore all of the undercurrents in their relationship.
— pinbot Wednesday 6 August 2008, 20:25 #