Faramir Fiction Archive

That which you can never have (NC-17)

Written by Anorienbean

24 April 2007 | 23005 words

Chapter 13

Rather than release his prisoner, Haldir’s arm tightened around his neck, and Boromir began to struggle in earnest. Haldir, however, had no intention of letting go. “You just stabbed your own brother, then?”

“Haldir!” Faramir sat up as much as he could and let his gaze meet his lover’s. “He didn’t know! Let him go… please!”

There was nothing on all of Arda that could have made Haldir release his captive… other than Faramir asking him to. He wasn’t about to let this long-lost brother attack again, however, and quickly loosened his hold around Boromir’s neck, only to tie his hands with his belt and shove him down against the nearest tree. Boromir’s strength was no match for the golden Elf’s, and moments later, he found himself bound tightly against the cold, rough bark of the tree, still staring at Faramir.

Haldir glared at him and knelt beside his lover, gently lifting up his tunic. The wound was bleeding freely, and though Boromir had pulled his blade away, it had still cut through the skin and into the muscle. As he carefully examined the wound, Faramir’s shock seemed to wear off, and he began feeling the pain. “I don’t like him,” Haldir said, glaring over his shoulder and helping Faramir to lie down. “I don’t care that he’s your brother, or that he didn’t know who you were. He hurt you, and I will never forgive him for that.”

Faramir closed his eyes and moaned softly. Haldir was clearing the wound with cool water, but it did little to stop the pain, and Faramir knew that if he were to pass out from loss of blood – or from the pain – than Boromir would certainly be worse for the wear when he awoke.

“He thought I was dead.”

“I don’t care, Faramir. We tried to leave Gondor, we tried to live our lives away from the madness of your father… we tried to put all that behind us. And our reward is that he sends someone to kill us?” Haldir began dressing the wound as he spoke, his words angry, but his touch as gentle as he could make it, given the fact that he had no herbs to ease the pain, or anything other than their tunics to bind it. The bleeding had slowed, but he would still need something to hold the skin edges together, at least until they could get to the healers in Lothlórien.

“He was only following orders.”

“He tried to KILL you.”

“I thought you died when you were little.” Boromir’s words were filled with confusion, not worry or frustration, as were the Man and Elf’s before him. “Father… father told me that you were sick…”

“I was.” Faramir sat up, wincing as he did so, and put one hand on Haldir’s arm, stilling him for a moment. “I was sick for a very long time, apparently. The disease destroyed my legs. I’ve never walked, or even stood up on my own. Father was… ashamed.”

“Your father was a…”

“Haldir, please.”

Haldir bit his tongue, but continued glaring at Boromir. “Well. He was.” When Faramir didn’t respond, other than to look up at him and sigh, Haldir began feeling like an intruder. He stood quickly and tucked a small dagger in his boot, then began stalking toward the river. “He can’t move,” he called back over his shoulder to Faramir. “Yell if you need me. I’m going to find some herbs to help close the wound.” With that, he was gone, leaving the two brothers alone in the small clearing.

“He’s very protective of you,” Boromir said quietly, nodding in the direction Haldir had taken. “Is he your…”

“He is my lover,” Faramir said simply. “He found me in the sickhouse my… no our... father had imprisoned me in. I’m not sure how, but he fell in love with me, and I with him. We were going to Lothlórien to live together.”

Boromir’s eyes widened. “You mean you can… I mean… with your legs…”

If nothing else, Haldir had given Faramir the confidence to put a stop to Boromir’s words. “Of course I can!” His face was flushed as he too began to glare at his brother. “He has never doubted me, even when I doubted myself… or when I still do. I will not sit here and have you question me about things that are none of your concern.”

“But Father said you were going to humiliate him, and…”

“He lied. I never wanted to set foot back in Gondor again.” Faramir shifted and closed his eyes as the cut on his side began to throb. “I only wanted to live with Haldir for as long as he would have me. I never expected a lifetime with him – I don’t expect that even now – but I had hoped for a few months, or maybe even years. And now this… the man who cannot look upon his own less than perfect son sends his perfect one to kill him. Will he ever stop?”

“I am not perfect.” Boromir was struggling to untie himself, but his restraints were too tight. Finally, he simply gave up and shrugged. “I don’t understand where you’ve been… or why you didn’t write to me, or send word, or…”

“He kept me a prisioner!” Faramir’s anger rose as he watched his brother try to comprehend what he was saying. He began dragging himself slowly, and painfully, toward the tree Haldir had tied Boromir to. “I had no way of writing or sending word, or doing anything. My days were spent watching the city from my window, and my nights were spent alone in my bed, wishing that I could, just for one day – one hour – be normal! My only guests were Imrahil, who brought me books for a time when I was younger, and the boy who took my breakfast every day in return for moving me to the window! The ‘healer’ hated me, I was a burden to everyone, and our so-called Father said I made him sick each time he had to lay eyes on me. The last time I saw him, brother, he destroyed one of the only gifts I had ever been given, and beat me so badly, even the healer could hardly bear to look at me!” He was able to reach Boromir by this time, and though the wound in his side felt as if it was on fire, he moved even closer. “Only Haldir noticed me, only Haldir could bear to touch me, and only Haldir ever cared!”

Boromir was struck dumb by the sudden anger in Faramir’s eyes. “If I had known…”

“What?” Faramir was angry, though he knew that Boromir spoke nothing but the truth. “What would you have done, Boromir? Would you have defied our father, and taken me out of that place like Haldir did? Would you have made me a chair that would allow me to move from room to room, or taught me to ride a horse? Would you, brother, have taken me outside to I could touch the grass that I had only seen from afar for as long as I could remember?”

Boromir shifted uncomfortably and looked away from Faramir. “Father… he…” His words trailed off, and though he would have liked to say that he would have done all those things, he knew his father was not so easily defied. Before he could continue, he realized he could move his hands. Faramir had untied him.

“Kill me now or go back to your father,” Faramir said softly, looking down at the ground and combing his fingers through the breeze-ruffled ferns that grew beside them. “Either way, I will not go back to Gondor. I will not willingly leave Haldir, though I cannot let him kill you either.”

A long moment passed in complete silence as Boromir watched his brother. His hand was shaking as he lifted it to tilt Faramir’s face up so he could look into his eyes. “You look so much like our mother,” he whispered. “I cannot kill you.”

The anger drained out of Faramir as quickly as it had washed over him. Boromir pulled him into his arms and held him close as he began to cry, warm, silent tears at first, that soon gave way to helpless sobbing. This was the brother he’d never known, and now, probably never would, because he simply couldn’t go back and face his father, even with his brother and new ally at his side.

That was how Haldir found them, Faramir resting in Boromir’s arms, and Boromir rocking him gently back and forth. “We can go back, Faramir, and somehow we will make things right.” Boromir’s voice was soft, whispered against his brother’s ear, but Haldir heard him clearly.

Bowing his head, Haldir quietly retraced his steps, and neither brother heard or saw him.

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