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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
VII
The bards and musicians of Lórien and Gondor exchanged many turns that night, and the banquet and entertainment ended late in the evening. Faramir found himself returning to his rooms in the wine-merry company of the Lórien elves. As they walked, Orophin threw a fraternal arm around his shoulders.
‘So, my friend, when will we be welcoming you in Lórien?’
Faramir winced invisibly. The question was worded ambiguously enough that he couldn’t tell if he was being invited to visit or asked if he was moving in. He had no answer and dodged diplomatically.
‘I should very much like to come see its beauty.’
‘Ah, but there’s no need — we’ve brought him to you!’ Rúmil jubilantly came up behind them with his arm around Haldir’s neck.
Both Haldir and Faramir flushed as Rúmil chuckled at his own joke. Before Haldir could either voice his apology or offer to throttle his brother, Rúmil continued.
‘But now, dear Orophin, you’d best unhand Faramir and come away with me before I become jealous.’
‘Of which one of us, my love?’ Orophin replied with a grin.
‘Both!’
At that, Orophin released Faramir, kissing him lightly on the cheek. ‘Oho! That sounds like trouble all around. Best to say good night, sweet prince. Pleasant dreams.’ And both brothers slipped through their door, fingers entwined.
Faramir’s and Haldir’s rooms were the next doors down, across from one another – again by someone’s meddlesome design, no doubt. The silence between them bristled. They stopped awkwardly in front of their closed doors. Haldir fought the urge to step forward until his chest met the Ranger’s, driving him back against the stone wall. To take the man’s startled face in his hands and crush his lips to his own, to press his aching groin against his old lover, grind into his heat. Press one knee between his creamy thighs until Faramir rode upon his own thickly muscled leg. Writhing. Gasping in need. Feel Faramir’s breath panting hot against his ear as his lips and tongue caressed and their bodies strove at one another through leather and cloth. To –
‘Good night Haldir.’ Faramir had backed against his door, fumbling for the handle, and was gone.
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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 #