Faramir Fiction Archive

That which you can never have (NC-17)

24 April 2007 | 23005 words

Chapter 10

The ride through Gondor slowly turned from frightening to delightful for Faramir. Haldir, though he wanted to get his lover as far away from the city as possible, simply could not begrudge him a tour through every nook and cranny that caught Faramir’s fancy. He kept a close eye on everyone around them, fully expecting Faramir’s father to try and stop – or kill – them, but all was peaceful everywhere he looked. Before they’d even made their way halfway through the city, the blanket had loosened from around Faramir’s shoulders, and in his awe at his surroundings, he failed to notice. Haldir smiled, pulled him closer and didn’t bother to replace it, happy that already his lover had lost a bit of his self-consciousness.

A gasp of surprise told him that Faramir had realized, finally, that any passersby could see his legs, yet no one, save for two young boys who stared at them curiously, turned away or gaped at them in horror. Even the boys merely looked inquisitive, not disgusted, as Haldir pointed out quietly against his lover’s ear when Faramir immediately reached for the blanket to wrap around him again. As Haldir whispered to him, Faramir’s fingers loosened on the dark fabric and slowly released it. To his utter amazement, it seemed that Haldir was right. Most people who even noticed his legs were too thin to support him simply looked him over a bit more carefully, wondering, once they got to his eyes, why he looked vaguely familiar, but thinking no more of it. A few of the Rangers that Faramir even managed to smile at nodded their heads, and if he got one or two pitying looks from them, it was only because they knew how quickly their lives could change with the thrust of a sword or a fall from a horse. They admired him for his courage in being seen, rather than hidden away like most in his condition were forced to endure.

There were eyes that darkened in disgust of course, the eyes of the very people who put their brothers and sisters, or sons and daughters, in the sick house that Faramir had just escaped from. Those people, however, much like Denethor, were too involved in their own misery to do much more than pause and turn away as if they’d seen nothing. They always seemed to fear that if they were caught looking, then someone would know there was someone in their family like Faramir, someone they couldn’t bear to look at or think of. When they got home, however, they were quick to whisper about the crippled young man who had ridden through town as if he belonged there, for all of Arda do see, and how the very sight of him had put them off their lunches. Those were the people Haldir made sure his lover never saw, quickly distracting him from uneasy glances and uncomfortable silences as they rode by, pointing out places and people who seemed friendly and inviting or simply happy to share a smile with the handsome young manand his golden Elven friend as they made their way through the city.

By the time they reached the outskirts of Minas Tirith, Faramir was sitting a little straighter and smiling at everyone. More than once, he turned in the saddle as much as he could and kissed Haldir, thanking him again and again for everything he’d done for him. Once, he pulled on the reigns and stopped Nahar completely. “I don’t love you for all this,” he said softly, gesturing around him at the free air, the open spaces, the horse beneath them. “I mean, I do, but… that’s not… ”

Haldir pressed a kiss to Faramir’s neck and nodded, understanding everything he was trying to say. “I know, pen velui (lovely one). I know.”

Faramir gazed into beloved blue eyes for long moments, seeing everything he felt reflected back at him. Haldir did understand, at least for now.

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