Faramir Fiction Archive

Tales from Gondor (R)

Written by Minx

23 September 2012 | 36179 words

Title: Plans
Author: Minx
Pairing: Aragorn / Faramir
Rating: PG
Warnings: Slash, fluff
Disclaimer: All characters and places are Tolkien’s.
Feedback: Welcomed with open arms:)
Author’s Notes: Written for the ‘Breakfast’ prompt for the 25fluffyfics LJ community. Many thanks to Iris for her help!
Summary: Aragorn has to change supper plans

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Aragorn returned to his chambers late in the evening, and was pleased to note that a huge supper had already been laid out in his private dining room. Faramir had returned from Ithilien the previous evening and they had planned to sup early and then retreat to Aragorn’s bedchamber so that, in Faramir words, they could continue from where they’d left off the previous night. Aragorn smiled at he thought of the previous night while he changed out of his formal tunic and leggings into a more comfortable robe. Much as he had thought they should have slept, for Faramir had looked just a bit weary after from his ride, his lover had had other ideas, ones that Aragorn found quite irresistible. They had made love twice and then again early that morning on waking up. Faramir had been away at Ithilien for nearly a fortnight and had been most anxious to make up for it. Aragorn had in turn promised to distract the younger man from thoughts of the councils that were to follow over the next few days.

He moved towards his study to let Faramir know he had returned, but then stopped. He decided to take the supper over to his study instead of calling Faramir to have it here. His study was a room that Faramir loved, for a vast window offered a view of the city and the plains beyond and even the hazy contours of Ithilien across the thin sliver of river. They had often supped there, seated in comfortable, old chairs or lain down with glasses of wine on a pile of rugs in front of the hearth.

He piled the plates with food. His younger lover was looking a little thinned, and from what Aragorn knew of him, meals were low on his priority once he was immersed in work, as was bound to happen in Ithilien where he had few distractions. Faramir’s years as a ranger in Ithilien, at the front line with erratic supply lines had inured him to erratic meals and his father’s strict and at times, even harsh upbringing had left him with a tendency to work overly hard. In the last few months, the younger man had certainly been working very hard, spending a few days in Ithilien each fortnight to oversee the rebuilding works there, and at the same time keeping up with his duties back here in the city.

Aragorn stopped as he entered the study and sighed. Faramir had fallen asleep on the rugs by the hearth, curled up close to the fire. Aragorn put the food aside and sat by him, gently pushing a long strand of wayward hair out of the younger man’s eyes. He still looked tired, even in his sleep, Aragorn thought. He had certainly looked exhausted when he had arrived from Ithilien last night. Not for the first time, he cursed himself softly for allowing the younger man to exert himself so much, at work and in their intimacy too.

He should really ensure Faramir got more rest, he thought worriedly, at least while he stayed over at Minas Tirith, but their days apart only increased their longing for each other. They were both tactile lovers and craved physical proximity, Faramir even more so, and the younger man’s eagerness never failed to move Aragorn. Faramir had in fact been making eager plans for this night, having amused himself in Ithilien by going through some rather unexpected illustrated Khandrim texts that he had discovered in a far corner of the archives in Minas Tirith.

Aragorn gently ran a finger down the younger man’s cheek and jaw, and inched down to the sharp outlines of the collarbone that jutted out above the robe he wore.

Faramir stirred and Aragorn stilled the movements immediately, unwilling to awaken him. He gently picked the younger man’s smaller frame in his arms, careful not to jolt him in his sleep and carried him into the bedchamber.

The huge feather bed near the window was covered with neatly spread quilts and blankets. Aragorn placed him on the bed and spread a blanket over him.

The younger man stayed sleeping all through, even as the king closed the curtains across the window, and spread a second quilt over him. It would get chilly soon.

Sighing again, Aragorn retrieved the papers Faramir had been working on, and was unsurprised to see that he had completed all the work required. He supped alone, eating slowly and thoughtfully. He mentally ran through their schedules for the next day. They were to break their fast with Legolas and Gimli, and then later in the afternoon, go their individual ways for councils and arbitration proceedings. They had quite a few long, work-filled days ahead, he realised.

Faramir woke to soft sunlight streaming through the thin, silken drapes. He stared at the chequered pattern formed on his quilt, momentarily confused by his surroundings. He’d been in Emyn Arnen, and then he remembered he’d ridden back to Aragorn, and they were to have…

He rose slowly, pushing away the bedclothes, and yawned involuntarily as he stretched himself.

“Oh good, you’re awake. I’ve brought you breakfast,” Aragorn said as he placed a large tray piled with food on a table by the bed.

Faramir stared at the food in confusion. There were breads, cakes, cheese, fruits, honey, preserves, smoked meats, eggs, and a huge jug of milk. And then he remembered.

“Oh!” he nearly yelped, “Forgive me! I forgot Legolas and Gimli will be joining us for breakfast. I’ll –”

“Those two are still sleeping after a night out in the taverns with the twins,” Aragorn told him, amused, “I doubt either is in the mood for company right now. I’m told they sampled Haradric wines of varying types, and followed it up with Dorwinion. This breakfast is for you.”

“For me? But there’s enough here to feed three halflings for both their breakfasts,” he protested.

Aragorn glanced thoughtfully at the food, “Perhaps one halfling for two of his breakfasts,” he accepted, “But you need it. You had no dinner last night.”

Faramir’s expression immediately turned even more contrite. “Forgive me,” he said softly, “I did not mean to fall asleep.”

Aragorn sat by him and gently pulled him into his arms, “You needed the rest,” he said, “You still do, and I intend to ensure that.”

“But we had other plans for last night,” Faramir mumbled, his cheeks pinking slightly, as he leaned into the embrace.

“And we have enough time for those,” Aragorn assured him gently, and inched the plate closer, “Our breakfast guests have let us down as I said, and there are no councils this morning. Eat now.”

After Faramir had eaten a few mouthful he added, “If you’re nice and eat up most of it, I might even let you tell me, or nay, try out what you were reading about the use of fruit and honey in the art of Khandrim lovemaking.”

Faramir paused in the act of dipping some bread into the pot of honey, and grinned. “Butter too,” he mumbled, through a mouthful of bread and cheese.

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