Faramir Fiction Archive

That which you can never have (NC-17)

Written by Anorienbean

24 April 2007 | 23005 words

Pairing: Haldir/Faramir
Disclaimer: No money is being made from this, and I’m sure Master Tolkien would be horrified at what I’ve done to his characters. They do belong to him, however, and I’m only living vicariously through them for a while, and promise to return them relatively intact, if not exactly as they were before.
Warnings: Totally AU.
Summary: Raised alone and ‘different’ in a sickhouse for all this life, Faramir has been taught that he wasn’t whole, and was, for all intents and purposes, more trouble than he was worth. A visitor from another realm tries desperately to change his mind.

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Faramir’s hand rested against the windowsill, his eager eyes fixed on the Rangers across the field as they rode into the forest, sitting tall and proud on Minas Tirith’s finest mounts. His face was turned slightly toward the sun, and while he normally relished the warmth on his skin, at the moment, he could seem to think of nothing else but how it would feel to just once sit astride such an animal, trusting it bear you away from the city, and wherever else your heart may desire, then safely bring you home again. He’d never ridden of course, never even been allowed into the stables to touch one of the majestic beasts, but he’d dreamed of it for all his life.

It was a silly daydream, nothing more. He accepted that. He had no choice, really.

“Faramir, you mustn’t waste your time wishing for that which you can never have.” Enrif’s, voice was strained and distracted. The steward’s son was a nice enough lad, and if he didn’t have to many others to look after, Enrif might have taken the time to find a way to make the young man’s life easier. As is was, however, he was a healer, in a dark, forgotten part of the city, in charge of a sickhouse that no one ever visited or cared about, the home of the forgotten soldiers, those who would never live a normal life, or be able to walk the streets of Gondor without frightening the women and children alike.

With a heavy sigh, Enrif slid his arms underneath Faramir’s thin legs and the other behind his shoulders and lifted him. “You would do well to say in your bed. I have enough to do without having to carry you from your seat at the window every day, and I have ordered the other healers not to give in every time you beg to be moved. You should be content to look outside once every few days or so. You have books, and parchment, and you can hear what goes on outside your window, Faramir, but I want you to stay in bed and stop being so much trouble!”

Faramir looked down at his hands and blinked back the tears as Enrif quickly covered his legs with the thin blanket. “I am sorry,” he said softly. “It is just that I love watching the horses. They are so…”

“They are nothing special.” Enrif cut off Faramir’s words before he could continue. “I’ve ridden almost every day of my life, and they are simply a means of getting one from one place to another. Much like I am to you, apparently, as often as I’m forced to carry you back to your bed! Why, Faramir? Why must you always be such a burden?”

With that, the healer left, muttering under his breath, leaving Faramir alone, as usual, with his books, and the never-ending desire to know more of the world around him, the world outside of this house that he’d been placed in since he was but a few weeks old, and one that he had never been allowed to leave since.

Chapter 2

As the sun rose the next morning, Faramir heard the stirrings of his housemates, and slid up in bed to rest against the headboard. His breakfast was brought to him before the rangers of the city set out for the day, and, as usual, he had to barter his food to convince the young healer’s apprentice to carry him to the window. The apprentice quickly ate and hurried from the range of motion, murmuring about how tired he was of having to move Faramir every day.

Every day was the same in this place, but each morning, he awoke with a smile, anticipating the hours ahead of simply watching the inhabitants of Minas Tirith go about their business in the distance, completely unaware of the serious blue eyes that watched them without fail. It was all he had, all he knew, and for one who could never function in the ‘real world’ as Enrif often told him, it was more than he deserved.

The day passed slowly, as it always did, but Faramir was more than content to simply watch the people – his people – as they began heading to the taverns for the noon meal. His own stomach was growling and he was anxious for some food as well, though trading his morning meal for the opportunity to sit by the window was never a decision he regretted.

“You brought him here?”

Faramir startled and turned toward the door to his room. The voice was unfamiliar, and in a place such as this, anything new was cause for excitement.

“What is this place?”

“It is a sickhouse, Master Elf. Your comrade has been brought here so as not to disturb the others.”

“But… why? He will live, and I will take him back to Lothlórien as soon as he is able to travel.”

“Have you not seen him? He has scars on his face and arms, scars that even Elven healing will not erase, and…”

“And so you have hidden him away? What kind of people are you? You hide those who are not perfect, so as not to offend those who see themselves as flawless?”

“Master Elf…”

“Just make him well, healer, so I can take him home. His family will welcome him, whether he is scarred or not.”

Faramir’s eyes were wide as the door to his room opened and another of the healer’s aids walked in with a tray full of food. He saw a tall, blond Elf pacing the hallway, obviously frustrated and confused about the manner in which his companion was being treated.

He’d never seen an Elf before, and without thinking, Faramir looked beyond the servant who was setting his tray down and smiled at the Elf. “Would his family really welcome him home?” he asked softly. “Would they not be ashamed of him?”

The blond looked up at once, keen Elven ears picking up the softly spoken words even from a distance. “Ashamed?” He stopped just outside of Faramir’s door and looked at the young man in thoughtful silence for a moment. “Why would they be ashamed? They love him, and they will care only that he is alive, and able to return to them.”

Faramir’s normally pale face flushed, never really thinking the Elf could hear him. “I… I see. Please accept my apologies. I just…”

“There is no need to apologize,” the Elf said kindly, wondering who the young man was waiting to see. “I am simply unaccustomed to the way Men think, I suppose. I cannot imagine feeling ashamed of someone I loved.”

He stepped aside as the silent aid made a quick exit from the room, having no desire to speak to the much larger and intimidating Elf.

“Men and Elves must think very differently, I suppose,” Faramir said, turning back toward the sunlight, thinking his visitor would now leave.

Haldir, however, studied the young man in silence, watching the way he was completely entranced by whatever it was he was looking at in the distance. He moved forward a few steps and saw that Faramir’s eyes were trained on the stables, and an almost unconscious smile played on his lips as another group of riders – this time several young Men who were merely out for some fun – headed toward the outskirts of the city.

“There are some of the finest steeds I have ever seen in your stables,” Haldir mused, causing Faramir to startle.

The steward’s youngest son looked up in surprise and was immediately struck by the ethereal beauty of the Elf behind him. After a moment, he found his voice. “Aye. Some were sired from the stables of Rohan.”

Haldir nodded and smiled. “Do you ride often?”

Faramir’s eyebrows arched in surprise and he bit back a sigh of longing. “I have never ridden… but it has always been my dream.”

Though not well acquainted with all the ways of Men, Haldir knew that most were taught to ride at a very early age, so the idea that the young man before him had never ridden struck him as odd. “Never ridden? Why?”

The reason was all too obvious for Faramir, but he realized that the Elf could not see his legs underneath the blankets. He turned slightly and pulled the coverings away. “This is why,” he murmured, thinking that now, surely the Elf would leave.

Blue eyes regarded Faramir’s thin, almost useless legs, then moved back up to his face. “You could still ride,” Haldir said, trying to hide his surprise that obviously, the fair young man was a patient here, rather than a visitor.

For the time it took his eyes to blink, Faramir was filled with hope. It was gone just as quickly, however. He’d never been allowed out of this house in all his life, and it was foolish to think the he one day would. He could not walk, he had no other means of transportation, and besides that, Denethor had always told everyone that his youngest son had died as a child, so he could not afford to let anyone see him, and ask questions. “It is not for me,” he murmured. “I can content myself with simply watching.”

At that moment, a tentative knock on the door caused both Man and Elf to look around. “You may see your friend if you are absolutely certain you wish to,” Enrif advised. “Though I see no reason why you would subject yourself to it.”

Haldir bowed slightly to his companion and smiled, ignoring the healer’s words. “Good day,” he offered as he put one hand on Faramir’s shoulder. “Maybe we can talk again tomorrow?”

Faramir jumped again as Haldir touched him. For as long as he could remember, he had only felt the touch of another when it was necessary to move him. The healers had certainly made it clear that they had no wish to do anything more than that, and, of course, his visitors were limited to his father coming by once every month to pay Enrif for his silence and his care, meager as it was.

A smile touched his lips and Faramir nodded eagerly. “I would love to talk to you tomorrow.” He had no idea why the Elf would wish to talk to him, but he was nevertheless grateful that he even pretended to want to return. “My name is Faramir, and this room is my home. I never leave it, so I will be here should you really wish to return.”

You never leave it? Why ever not? Haldir held his tongue and gave Faramir’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “It is my pleasure to meet you Faramir,” he said, bowing once more. “I am Haldir of Lothlórien, and I will be back tomorrow.”

Chapter 3

True to his word, Haldir was back the next day, knocking softly on Faramir’s door just after the young man had been moved from his bed back to his window. As soon as Faramir’s eyes had opened that morning, he’d reached into the nightstand beside his bed where a fresh change of clothes was always kept, and, as usual, took almost half an hour to change his tunic and leggings. By the time his breakfast was brought to his room then bartered away and he was placed by the window, he head a soft knock on his door and felt his heart skip a beat. He really came back?

Moments later, Haldir entered the room as bidden, and sat on the edge of the bed, unable to quell his curiosity about the man before him. They talked of the weather for a few moments before Haldir realized that while he had seen trays being brought into other rooms, there was no food in Faramir’s room. When he asked why, Faramir’s face had flushed, and it took several minutes before Haldir learned the truth. He stood, exited the room without a word, and came back several moments later with a tray full of everything the kitchen had had to offer. He sat it on the table by Faramir’s chair and smiled.

“Oh, Gods, no,” Faramir tears well up in his eyes. Haldir had tried to be kind, but he truly did not understand how things worked at the sickhouse. “If I eat, then I will not be able to sit by the window during the days… It’s the deal I made with…”

“I will help you move,” Haldir assured him. “And when I return to Lothlórien, I will make sure to find someone to assist you afterward.”

Faramir’s despair was momentarily forgotten as he looked up in surprise. “You wish to come back another day, then?”

“Well, if you do not mind,” Haldir smiled. “It seems my friend Rulen will be here for several weeks, and I have no where else I need to be. The citizens of Gondor do not, for the most part, take kindly to Elves wandering around their fair city anyway.”

“You are more than welcome,” Faramir said warmly as he began eating the food from the tray and offered Haldir some. “I have not had any visitors for long years now, not since my tutors left.”

“Tutors?” Haldir straightened and shook his head. “Just how long have you been here, Faramir?”

As if it were the most natural thing in the world, Faramir shrugged. “Almost all my life,” he explained. “When I was very young, I got sick. The healers had no idea what was wrong, and, according to Enrif, were sure I was going to die. I eventually recovered, but whatever had made me ill destroyed the muscles in my legs. My father was, naturally, ashamed, and put me here…”

“Naturally?” Haldir could not mask the surprise and disgust in his voice at Faramir’s father. “There is nothing ‘natural’ about being ashamed of your own flesh and blood!”

Faramir shook his head. “Haldir, look at me. Would you want to be seen with someone such as me?”

Without hesitation, Haldir nodded. “I would be proud to be seen with you. If I were ashamed of you, would I be here now?”

As grateful as Faramir was for Haldir’s company, he knew that no one in their right mind would want to be seen in his presence out in the ‘real world’. He smoothly changed the subject so as not to embarrass the Elf further and though Haldir seemed slightly frustrated, he did not push the issue. By the time Faramir’s lunch had been brought to him and he excused himself long enough to be carried to the bathing rooms to relieve and quickly clean himself, he was thinking for the first time in his life that he might possibly have a friend. Despite this, he was surprised to find the Elf still waiting for him in his room when he returned, having visited Rulen and returned while Faramir had been occupied and seeming to be more than willing to spend the rest of the day talking with him.

Haldir, for his part, had winced at the rough, almost preoccupied way the aide had lifted Faramir, then practically dropped him back in his chair when he returned. Faramir, moaned softly as his spine hit the back of the chair, but seemed used to the treatment, though certainly not deserving of it.

Both Haldir and Faramir were surprised when Faramir’s dinner was delivered to find that Enrif had made sure there was enough food for two this time, unwilling to attract the ire of the Elf who had stormed into the kitchen that very morning, furious that one of the aids would dare take Faramir’s meal in exchange for simply moving him from his bed to his chair. They talked easily until, to their dismay, it was time for Faramir to return to his bed. A tall young man with a stooped shoulders and a fearful look toward Haldir picked Faramir up and deposited him unceremoniously onto his bed, then left as quickly as he’d arrived.

With a regretful sigh, Haldir wished Faramir a good night, and promised to see him the next day.

Chapter 4

Early the next morning, even before breakfast, Haldir was knocking softly on Faramir’s door. Faramir, for his part, had already been awake for quite some time, trying not to give in to the anticipation of another day’s visit with the beautiful Elf, yet unable to sleep due to the very idea that they might get to talk again. Other than Haldir’s initial surprise at Faramir’s circumstances, he had hardly mentioned anything unpleasant, though he did ask why Faramir’s father had bothered with tutors when his son had never been outside of his ‘home.’ Faramir had explained that his tutor was really his mother’s brother, who had, despite Denethor’s protests, felt that Faramir deserved an education. Faramir’s love of learning had both pleased and inspired his uncle to return day after day until he felt there was nothing more he could teach his student, and settled for sending him several books every month, though he had never managed to find the time to return for just a visit, the sight and sounds of the other patients in the sickhouse finally becoming too much for him.

Faramir had dressed earlier and bade Haldir to enter before he had even finished knocking. The blond Elf wished Faramir a good morning and then inquired if he might have the honor of helping him to the window that day.

Faramir tried to keep the surprise from his face as he nodded and moved as well as he could to the edge of the bed. Before he did anything else, Haldir took a pillow from his bad and placed it against the back of the chair, then held out his arms to Faramir. Gentle hands slid underneath the young man’s legs and his arms wound around Haldir’s neck. He was lifted easily and deposited more carefully than he could ever remember in the chair by the window. He felt the warmth of Haldir’s body against his own for all too brief a time before it was gone and he wondered if the Elf had felt it as well. It felt… safe, and comfortable, yet at the same time, it caused Faramir’s stomach to tie in an odd little knot.

That day’s routine was much like the day before, and the days after. After almost two weeks had passed, Haldir and Faramir had talked about everything from Men to Elves, and orcs to wizards, from books and legends to the far away people that Faramir watched every day from his window. Still, they seemed to have more to discuss, and neither tired of the other’s company. The aids had stopped coming to move Faramir, except to take him to the baths, and were now accustomed to bringing food for two every day to the young man’s room. Haldir no longer had to ask for permission to move Faramir, and each time, he held his friend as carefully as if he were made of the finest, most delicate and priceless crystal. He was quickly beginning to feel more than friendship for Faramir, and the way Faramir’s face lit up whenever he walked into the room made Haldir wonder if he could possibly feel the same way.

After several weeks, Haldir was a bit late arriving at Faramir’s room. Faramir had wondered if the Elf had left Gondor without telling him, or had found someone else to talk to – someone he could be seen with, or do ‘normal’ things with, rather than sit in a small, dull room all day and do nothing more than talk. By the time he heard the familiar knock on the door, he was sure it was one of the aides with a message from Haldir wishing him all the best and saying that he would not be returning. The door opened, however, and there he was, golden and beautiful, and Faramir almost wept with relief. He’d dressed himself long before, and when Haldir reached for him, Faramir simply closed his eyes and practically clung to him with every bit of strength he had.

Rather than the familiar feeling of Haldir walking a few steps and sitting him on the chair, however, Faramir felt himself moving in another direction entirely… toward the door. “Haldir?”

“There is something I want to show you,” Haldir smiled, relishing the feeling of Faramir resting against him. “And I thought some fresh air might do you good.”

“Fr… fresh air?” Faramir’s eyes grew wide and he trembled. “But… but I’ve never… someone will see me and…”

“Hush,” Haldir chided him. “We are only stepping out behind the house. There are chairs there, just like in your room, and no one can see us.”

Faramir relaxed slightly, but was still unsure. They stepped outside moments later and a small gasp fell from his lips as he looked around them, unconsciously holding on to Haldir all the more tightly. No one was in sight, that much was true, but the trees and the grass and even flowers were almost close enough to touch and Faramir was almost overwhelmed by it all. When Haldir leaned over to put him in one of the chairs he’d sat there earlier, Faramir’s grip around his neck only tightened, afraid to be alone in this new world, knowing that he would be completely helpless if Haldir decided to leave for any reason.

Haldir straightened and smiled, sensing Faramir’s nervousness. Without a word, he sat down in the chair himself and settled Faramir in his lap, entranced at the way the arms around his neck never loosened, yet clear blue eyes looked everywhere around them as if trying to take it all in at once. He simply watched Faramir for quite some time, thinking that as beautiful as Faramir found the world around him, it was nothing compared to his own beauty, of which Haldir was certain Faramir was unaware of.

As the sun rose high in the sky, Haldir and Faramir began to speak of their surroundings, and when Faramir’s pale face began turning pink from the sun, he stood, still holding Faramir close, and crossed the small patch of dirt the sickhouse was situated on. There was a large shade tree with grass underneath close by, and, rather than try and get Faramir to let go of him, Haldir simply settled among the tree’s roots with his companion in his lap.

Faramir still held on to Haldir with one arm, but the other finally loosened to let a shaking hand reach toward the grass, long fingers caressing each individual blade and Faramir’s mouth turning up in a smile as he saw a bright yellow flower beside them. He reached out for it, and would have fallen had Haldir not moved with him, still holding him tightly. Rather than pick it, however, Faramir simply let his fingers flutter over the petals lightly before leaning back into Haldir’s embrace. It never occurred to him to pull the such a lovely flower from the ground, Haldir knew. The Elf also knew that it was only a weed, but he had no intention of saying so… though he thought that even knowing that wouldn’t make Faramir feel any differently about it.

The day passed all too quickly, and Faramir was stunned to see that Haldir had arranged for their meals to be brought out to them. It had been the most exciting day Faramir could remember in his life, though they had never gotten past the outer boundaries of the sickhouse.

Dusk was falling around them by the time Haldir asked if Faramir was ready to return to his room, and the look in the young man’s eyes had made the Elf quickly promise that they could come back outside the next day, and the day after if he so wished. He stood, entered the sickhouse once more, and reluctantly handed Faramir off to one of the healer’s aides just outside the doors of the bathhouse. In almost no time at all, the aide returned, arms full of Faramir, and gladly handed him back off to Haldir as if he were nothing more than simply one more burden to add to his already overlyburdened life.

Haldir laid an exhausted Faramir back in his bed a short while later and laughed softly to himself when Faramir fell asleep before Haldir could even wish him a good night. Unable to resist, he simply watched his young friend sleep for while, reaching out to gently brush the hair from his forehead and place a chaste kiss there before leaving.

Chapter 5

Another routine was in place, and Haldir began taking Faramir out almost every day, much to Enrif’s disdain. They never strayed from the safety of the sickhouse boundaries, however, and though Faramir no longer felt that he needed to cling to Haldir, he nevertheless always sat by him, often leaning against him for both the comfort and the pleasure it brought him.

Little was said about Haldir’s Elven friend, and by the time he was deemed ready to travel, Haldir had already decided to have one of his captains return Rulen to Lórien, as he was unwilling to leave Minas Tirith just yet.

The second time Haldir was late for his visit with Faramir, it too was for a good reason. He carried Faramir outside and sat him in a chair just under the long branches of the shade tree they’d spent so many hours beneath. Faramir had been talking and looked up at the sky, and was almost startled when he was deposited neither on Haldir’s lap nor on the soft grass as usual, but on another chair, this one softer, with smooth, planed wood and cushions behind and underneath him. He looked down at the chair, and his mouth fell open. It was a chair, yes, but it had wheels as well, spoaked wheels as one would find on a wagon, though smaller. “Haldir… what…”

Haldir simply smiled and moved behind the chair, pushing it around the small enclosure. The chair moved… and, to Faramir’s utter astonishment, he found that he could push the wheels and move it himself! It was difficult on the grass but when they moved closer toward the house onto the tightly packed dirt, it was surprisingly easy. He looked up at the Elf behind him and reached for his hand, urging him to move from behind the chair to in front of it. As soon as Haldir was before him, Faramir flung himself into his friend’s arms, knowing that Haldir would catch him. Never before had he ever dreamed of such a gift, and he was so overcome with joy, he could barely speak. “Thank you,” he whispered again and again. “How did you… I mean, I never thought… and I have no idea how to… thank you, Haldir. You have just made me the happiest man on Arda.”

Haldir closed his eyes and held Faramir close against him, taking in the scent of his freshly washed hair and the sweet, wonderful scent that was Faramir’s alone. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said softly. “I’ve been making this after I leave you in the evenings, hoping it would please you. And the day is not over… I have one more surprise for you after lunch.”

They spent the morning getting used to the chair. Faramir’s arms ached from the new activity, and he was more grateful than he could say when Haldir began pushing the chair around the small yard as effortlessly as pulling up a blade of grass.

For his part, Haldir missed being able to sit with Faramir, but the joy on his face at being able to move under his own power was enough to make the ache a bit less noticeable.

When they had finished their lunch, Haldir settled Faramir in his new chair and moved toward the side of the sickhouse, promising to return in only a moment. He’d paid one of the aids to run a little errand for him, and when he returned, he was leading a medium sized, sweet natured cream-colored horse. It was already saddled and bridled and it looked as gentle and retiring as an animal of that size could possibly look. Faramir stared at the horse in fascination, but didn’t try to come any closer. The next thing he knew, Haldir had picked him up and was speaking Elvish as he walked toward the horse, who was calmly munching on the precious grass that Faramir had only so recently touched for the first time.

After a few encouraging words from Haldir, Faramir reached out and let his fingertips brush over the soft muzzle of the animal. So much had happened in so short a time, he had almost convinced himself that this was a dream… and he would surely wake from it all too soon.

“Would you like to ride him?” Haldir’s voice was soft and he watched Faramir’s eyes sparkle with disbelief.

“I… I cannot, Haldir, I…”

“Would you like to?”

Faramir looked up at Haldir, remembering Enrif’s words. “You mustn’t waste your time wishing for that which you can never have.” When he was with Haldir, though, anything seemed possible. “I would love to,” he whispered honestly. The next thing he knew, he was held even more tightly against the warmth of Haldir’s body as the Elf sprang gracefully up into the saddle. He carefully positioned Faramir on the saddle in front of him, letting his legs fall uselessly down on each side and wrapped one arm securely around the young man’s chest.

Faramir leaned back against Haldir, trembling and suddenly worried that Haldir meant to leave him up there alone, until he felt long Elven legs settle into the stirrups and rest behind his own legs, supporting them easily. Faramir clung to Haldir’s arm, certain now that he was dreaming, because everyone knew that there was no way on Arda he could actually be riding a horse. “Haldir…”

“I’ve got you, dear one,” Haldir said softly. “I won’t ever let you fall.” After several turns around the small enclosure, Faramir relaxed slightly, and slowly began to appreciate that he was, in fact, actually riding a horse, the one thing he’d dreamed all his life of doing.

Haldir placed the reins in Faramir’s hand and wrapped his own around the young man’s still shaking fingers. He spoke softly, explaining how to make the animal go where he wanted. When Faramir tried to make his legs work enough to hold himself steady in the saddle, or at least urge the horse on, however, he sighed in frustration as they refused to do more than tremble with the effort.

Though he said nothing, Haldir noticed, and then set about teaching both Faramir and the horse how to direct the beast with only the reins.

Even when the moon came out, Faramir was reluctant to get off the horse, which he had named Nahar. Haldir, however was afraid of making him stiff and sore, and only when he slid from the saddle with Faramir still in his arms did he realize his companion thought he would never again see the animal. Though Faramir said nothing as his arm automatically wound around Haldir’s neck, the Elf could see the sadness in his eyes and it broke his heart. “Faramir… I’m sorry. I should have told you earlier. Nahar is yours. I bought him for you yesterday.”

Faramir looked up at Haldir with wide eyes and a look of utter disbelief. “I… you… but, Haldir… why?” Without another word, he buried his face against Haldir’s neck and hugged him tightly. He did not deserve all that he had – Haldir’s gift, his time, or, especially his friendship. The golden Elf stirred feelings within him that he did not understand, feelings that scared him and made him wonder how ‘normal’ people felt when they cared for one person, or in this case, one Elf, above all others. He was even beginning to wonder if this was love. Not because of all that Haldir had given him and allowed him to experience, but because the thought of spending a day without him made his heart ache and his soul feel empty. He had spent his entire life alone, for all intents and purposes, but now, after only a few weeks, he could scarcely bear to think of not seeing Haldir, of not sharing a joke, or a feeling, or sometimes, simply a smile.

Rather than putting Faramir back in his new chair, Haldir instead settled beneath the tree and let his hands roam over the trembling muscles of his back, soothing him as best he could. “I want you to be happy,” he whispered, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. “I want to see you smile.” He pulled away just enough to gently tip Faramir’s face up until their eyes met. “And right now, I want to kiss you, if you would allow it.”

Faramir gasped and closed his fingers on Haldir’s tunic. He had no idea what to say, or do, or even feel. And besides… why would Haldir want to kiss him anyway? He argued with the tiny, cruel voice inside him, one that sounded suspiciously like his father, one that warned him not to fall for this trick from the Elf he thought was his friend. But even if this is a trick… I will have at least gotten to kiss him… “I… I am not sure why you would want to, but… I would love for you to kiss me,” he murmured.

Haldir gently tucked a lock of hair behind Faramir’s ear and smiled. “Have you never been kissed?” he asked softly. The look on Faramir’s face was all the answer he needed. Leaning forward, he gently pressed his lips against the soft ones before him, letting his tongue lick at the seam, slowly and carefully coaxing Faramir to open his mouth. Long arms tightened around his neck, and Haldir could feel the warmth of a sigh lost in his mouth, but Faramir seemed to be unsure of what to do, or how to act in this most unexpected of situations.

Patiently, Haldir licked at Faramir’s tongue, then the insides of his cheeks, then at the corners of his mouth. He was holding on to the young man tightly, but ready to pull away if Faramir showed any signs of wanting to stop. Faramir, however, simply let his eyes drift closed and moved closer to Haldir, a soft whimper falling from his lips when the Elf finally pulled away to draw in air.

“You… you kissed me.” The words were said with such wonder, Haldir couldn’t help but smile.

“Aye,” he agreed. “And now I would like for you to kiss me back.”

Faramir’s mouth dropped open for a moment before his face flushed and he bit his bottom lip in embarrassment. “I would like that too.” He moved forward so slowly, Haldir thought their lips would never meet again, but finally, they were there, pressed together as softly as a warm summer breeze, tentative and trembling. Slowly, he let his hand work it’s way up Faramir’s back to gently tangle in copper colored hair, urging Faramir to get closer, to kiss him harder, to take what he wanted.

Faramir responded with a gasp that only Haldir could hear, but let his tongue slip inside the Elf’s mouth, amazed at the sweetness and warmth hidden behind those lips that had smiled at him so innocently for weeks now. So, this is a kiss… Gods, I could kiss him forever. I don’t even want to pull away long enough to breathe… And he didn’t. He was soon lightheaded from lack of air, but still intently exploring Haldir’s mouth, going back to the sweetest recesses he liked the best, licking at the warmth of his tongue, then moving to the wetness just at the inside of his bottom lip, along the ridge of his teeth, and back again.

Haldir was the one to pull away once again, smiling as Faramir’s lips tried to follow his even as the young man gasped for air. “Breathe, dear one,” he whispered as Faramir stared at him with wide eyes. “Breathe, and then kiss me again if you like. I’m not going anywhere.”

Panting for air, Faramir nodded, then resumed the kiss a heartbeat later, unwilling to let this, his first and (probably only) kiss end anytime soon.

As Haldir’s hands supported Faramir and held him close, Enrif and one of his aids watched from the window, shock written all over their faces. “I thought Elves were fair and noble creatures,” the old healer sighed. “Yet this one is willing to treat Faramir as if he were normal!”

“Disgusting it is,” the aid agreed. “Lord Denethor will not be pleased to hear of this!”

“I sent him a message only last week, telling him I needed to speak with him at once. I was going to inform him that that there was an Elf who seemed intent on befriending Faramir,” Enrif said, turning from the sight of the Man and Elf as they continued kissing. “Boromir sent a message back asking if he could help instead and telling me that his father would be gone for some weeks. Seems he is in Rohan, begging for horses… and Boromir actually asked if he could attend to whatever need I had! Can you imagine? If Boromir saw Faramir, he would surely let it slip that his brother is still alive, and the entire city of Minas Tirith would be shamed!”

“Gods, I hope you told him not to come, sire. Boromir is just the type of man who might want to help Faramir… when we all know there is nothing to be done for him.” The aid too, finally turned from the window and shuddered. “I never thought I would see the day when one such as Faramir would be kissed! What is this world coming to Enrif?”

Chapter 6

Since he was in his early teens, Faramir had been worried. He was certain something was wrong with him. His legs were useless, of course, but, more than that, he seemed to have something wrong with him between his legs. He would often wake up with a warm, creamy fluid on the bed sheets or his sleeping shirt, or worse yet, covering his hand. That couldn’t be normal. He’d never been allowed more than one trip to the washing rooms to clean and relieve himself per day, and, while this liquid that came from inside him was most definitely a relief at times, it wasn’t anything he understood.

There was no one to ask, of course. The aids barely spoke to him, Enrif told him he didn’t have time to explain about things ‘normal’ folks did or felt, and Faramir was scarcely allowed to open his mouth when his father came to the sickhouse. Once, an aid walked into the room earlier than normal, and Faramir woke to the sound of laughter. His hand was between his legs, rubbing himself, and even as his eyes opened and he looked around the room in shock, he couldn’t seem to stop, couldn’t seem to deny the need he felt to just squeeze his fingers, move them down one more time, touch himself just there.

Less than half an hour later, Enrif had stormed into the room, telling Faramir that he was a foolish boy, who had dreams of being a man, and he would have to sleep on dirty sheets for the rest of the week, as he had neither the time, nor the desire to do any extra work. As Faramir’s face flamed with shame, Enrif launched into the familiar tirade that Faramir now knew by heart. “You’ve always wanted that which you can never have, you stupid, useless boy!” And for the next hour, Enrif lectured and threatened, leaving Faramir’s door open for all to see and hear, the cackles of laughter from the other healers and aids drifting toward him every time Enrif paused to take a breath.

After Faramir and Haldir had been friends for several weeks, and kissing for only a few days, Faramir was startled to discover that when he was close to the golden Elf, he would get a strange, heavy feeling between his legs. And if that wasn’t enough, he found that Haldir often had the same problem, though he never mentioned a word about it. Instead, Elf and Man would curl up together under the tree in the backyard of the sickhouse, or in the chair by his window for hours at a time, kissing, talking, laughing, and then kissing some more. This had to be what a real relationship was like, Faramir thought to himself. Though he was sure Haldir was only entertaining himself until he could return to Lothlórien, these few precious weeks would be the highlight of Faramir’s life, he knew without a doubt.

One warm afternoon in late summer, Faramir found himself cradled gently in Haldir’s lap. His head rested on the Elf’s shoulder, and his fingers were idly winding through long golden hair. He was still unable to resist the urge to stop whatever they were talking about every half hour or so for a few long, sweet kisses, but at least now both he and Haldir could breathe now and then, as Haldir had promised that he would always have enough kisses to share with Faramir, that he would never run out, and never tire of giving or receiving them.

After one exceptionally deep kiss, Faramir felt the familiar hardness between his legs, as well as Haldir’s pressing against his hip. “Is there… something wrong with us?” he asked softly. “I mean… when we kiss, or… or sometimes at night, I dream about you and when I wake up…” He gestured helplessly toward the bulge in his breeches, “I find… that something… happened… there…”

Haldir, who already cared more deeply for Faramir than he’d ever felt for anyone else in his life, felt a fierce wave of protectiveness wash over him as wide blue eyes looked up at him so innocently. Gods… he is older than his years in so many ways, but at the same time, he is so painfully young it makes my heart ache.

For weeks, Haldir had been wondering if Faramir had any idea how he made Haldir feel when they kissed, or when their bodies were wrapped around one another’s as they lay beneath the tree they’d claimed as their own behind the sickhouse. And he wondered if Faramir would ever want more. Certainly, Haldir had felt the hard length pressing against him now and then, and he realized that when Faramir would cling to him so desperately, he was wanting… no, needing... something that was just out of his reach.

It was, in some ways, and for some time, a difficult decision. Certainly, Faramir deserved a better life than he had here in Minas Tirith, hidden away like a dirty secret that no one wanted to speak of or acknowledge. But if Haldir gave in to his… and Faramir’s… basest desires, where would that leave Faramir when Haldir had to return home? With memories of happy times with an Elf who cared deeply for him, or with an aching desire of having felt something that he could never have again, given that he would never be allowed out of the single room that was the only home he’d ever known?

As Faramir looked at him, waiting for an answer, Haldir let his fingertips trail lightly over the now sun-kissed features he knew so well. “There is nothing wrong with either of us,” he said softy, as he finally found the answer he’d been searching for. One way or another, Faramir would not be left here, alone, when Haldir left. He would have a home, with people who cared for him, loved him, made him understand that he was just as good as anyone else on Arda… maybe even better than most.

He stood, holding Faramir close against him, and moved to the other side of the tree where he settled down on the hard ground once more. He knew the healers looked at them from time to time, not understanding their need for one another, their desire to simply be together day after day. Most days, he ignored them, but for this, for now, he wanted privacy.

“Faramir… do you enjoy kissing me?” The words were spoken softly, though there was no one else close enough to hear.

“Gods, Haldir, I love kissing you,” Faramir whispered honestly. “I wake up dreaming of kissing you, and I go to sleep still feeling my lips tingling from your good night kisses.”

“Is it me you love kissing? Or do you think you might like to kiss someone else?”

Faramir didn’t hesitate to answer. “Only you, Haldir, only you.” He pulled back to look into dark blue eyes that looked… different somehow. “I think you are the most beautiful being on Arda, and I am the luckiest man that has ever lived because you allow me to kiss you.”

“No,” Haldir said, shaking his head. “I do not allow you to kiss me. We kiss each other because we both enjoy it, Faramir.”

“You enjoy it too?” Faramir was stunned, having thought that Haldir simply felt sorry for him, and was trying to make him smile enough for a lifetime before he left.

Haldir curved his index finger beneath Faramir’s chin and tilted his head until their gazes met. There was no laughter in his eyes, only compassion and tenderness. And something else… something that Faramir didn’t understand, for he had never seen it before in all his life. “Faramir, I love kissing you. I too look forward to it every morning, and the only good thing about the coming of the night is that I get to carry you to bed and kiss you before I leave.”

A small smile played on Faramir’s face as Haldir studied him silently for long moments. “There is more we can share besides kissing, my dear one, the Elf murmured. “So much more.”

“More?” Faramir, who still had the feeling of fullness between his legs but didn’t understand what this conversation had to do with his question about something being wrong with them, was momentarily distracted by the notion that there could be anything more than kissing… well, anything that he, imperfect and broken as he was, could be allowed to experience.

“Do you trust me?”

“With all my heart.” Again, there was no hesitation in Faramir’s voice as he answered.

“Then I’m going to touch you,” Haldir said softly. He was no healer, and though he suspected that whatever had ravaged Faramir’s legs couldn’t even be healed by Elrond or Galadriel, he’d felt the rigid length underneath Faramir’s tunic often enough to know that he was capable of experiencing pleasure. “Come here. Kiss me again, Faramir. Close your eyes, and let me show you what’s more than a kiss.”

As Haldir spoke, he let his hand wander down and pressed his fingers gently against Faramir’s arousal through his breeches, causing the young man to jump and clench his fists in Haldir’s tunic. Faramir started to ask what was going to happen, but remembered that above all else, he trusted Haldir. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, then kissed the soft lips before him, still wondering how anything could be better than this.

It took him only moments to find out. Long Elven fingers deftly unlaced his breeches and Faramir’s arms tightened around Haldir’s neck as the aching flesh between his legs was gently squeezed and stroked with slow, deliberate motions. “Haldir!” The single word was spoken breathlessly and in a voice that didn’t sound like Faramir’s at all. But Haldir’s hand kept moving, and Faramir was pulled into another kiss. He felt hot and cold all over, that yearning for something that was just beyond him almost palpable in the air. He was rocking in Haldir’s lap, grinding against him, his legs barely moving, but his hips managing to roll back and forth, enough to give him the friction he so desperately craved. In almost no time at all, Faramir’s head fell back and he moaned loudly, wondering how Haldir knew just how to touch him, and already praying that whatever this was, it wasn’t the kind of thing that could only happen once in a lifetime. But of course, how could something this wonderful happen more often than once?

Haldir’s mouth covered his own, muffling his cries as Faramir’s release slammed into him. His entire body seemed to spasm uncontrollably, and had it not been for the strong arm holding him close, he would have fallen back on the hard ground in what he was sure was some kind of fit.

It took him quite some time to finally open his eyes and stare in wonder at Haldir, who was still holding his now softening flesh, his fingers stilled and covered with Faramir’s seed. “Haldir… Gods…” He trembled in Haldir’s arms for long minutes, unable to find the words to explain how he felt. Haldir combed the hair back from his forehead and whispered softly against his skin, and in no time at all Faramir had fallen asleep, safe from the world in the strong embrace that he wished he would never have to leave.

Later that night, Faramir was even more reluctant that normal to let Haldir leave. He wanted to ask him to stay until morning, though his bed was narrow and hard, and he was certain there would be even more talk about him around the sickhouse. He couldn’t seem to find the words, however, and simply bit his bottom lip as Haldir left him, promising to see him the next morning.

Chapter 7

The days passed in a happy haze for Faramir. He found out that what he and Haldir had shared could be done again and again, and after the second day, when his hand had tentatively wandered down to Haldir’s length, he discovered that he could do just as Haldir did, and bring the Elf he knew he was in love with the same kind of relief that Haldir had offered him.

He’d never in his life been happier, and in the back of his mind, he wondered when it would all end.

That question was answered the day his father returned to Gondor and spoke with Enrif.

It was early, as Denethor would usually only come to the sickhouse just after midnight, least someone see him going in to such a place. He’d talked with the healer for almost an hour, then stormed into Faramir’s room, blinded with rage. Faramir was asleep, dreaming of Haldir, counting the hours until they could be together again even in his dreams. He awoke to the slamming of his door, and immediately felt a searing pain on his scalp as his father grabbed him by the hair, pulled him from the bed, and threw him unceremoniously to the floor.

Denethor raged at him for going outside, for daring to speak to an Elf that might tell someone that the steward’s youngest son lived, for even thinking that he could get away with such foolishness. And then, worst of all, he picked Faramir up by his sleeping shirt until they were nose to nose, and gritted his teeth. “I wish you had died,” his father ground out as he slapped his son hard across his face. “Every single day of my life, I wish you had died, you worthless, stupid boy! You never were worth all the trouble you caused!”

With that, he flung Faramir away from him, back onto the floor. Faramir’s temple hit the edge of his nightstand, and he whimpered softly, afraid to do anything more.

Then, Denethor left the room, picked something up that he’d left in the hallway, and came back with an armload of wood. “Here is that absurd chair your ridiculous Elf made for you! And if you ever step outside of this house again, I will kill this Elf, and make you watch… and then I will happily kill you!” He leaned over, so close his breath across Faramir’s face made Faramir shiver with disgust. “Do I make myself clear?”

Tears ran freely down Faramir’s face, as he nodded, terrified beyond anything he’d ever known. His father’s foot pulled back and made contact with Faramir’s hip, kicking him so hard, he was knocked into the bed, bruising his ribs.

“Tell him you never want to see him again, tell him I forbid you to speak with him… tell him whatever you have to, but make sure he never comes back here,” Denethor growled. “If you do not convince him, his death will be on your hands.”

He left as quickly as he came, slamming the door behind him, leaving Faramir in tears on the floor, sobbing helplessly.

Chapter 8

Faramir sat alone on the floor all though the night, carefully gathering the pieces of the chair Haldir had so lovingly made for him as the tears streamed down his face. He didn’t think he had the strength to push Haldir away, but he had to… for his own safety. But he allowed himself, during the long hours of darkness, to dream of how a life with Haldir would be, if things had been different, if he had been ‘normal’, and if he could have had but one wish granted.

He was determined to crawl back up into his bed and tell Haldir that he no longer wished to see him. He had no other choice, after all, but as the sun began to rise, he found himself trying to put the splintered pieces of wood back together. Impossible, of course, but he had to try.

That was how Haldir found him, blood dried on one side of his face, sobbing quietly, sitting on the floor surrounded by dozens of pieces of kindling. He looked so vulnerable and alone that Haldir fell to his knees beside Faramir before he even closed the door behind him.

Faramir looked up, eyes red and swollen and still full of tears, and tried to find the words to make Haldir leave, tried so hard to tell him, but instead, he only shook his head, and cried harder. His life had been full of brutal truth, and he simply didn’t have it in him to tell such a blatant lie. “He broke the chair you made me,” he whispered.

And then Haldir’s arms were around him, holding him tightly, causing Faramir to moan as his bruised ribs were squeezed.

Haldir stopped, gently pulled the pieces of wood from Faramir’s hands and, without touching his ribs and being more careful than ever, pulled him close. “Who did this?” he whispered. “What happened to you, love?”

The last word, a single, four-lettered word, spoken so lovingly, was all it took to break Faramir’s heart. Throwing his arms around Haldir, mindless of the pain in his hip and ribs, he cried so loudly, practically everyone in the sickhouse heard him. Enrif, however, had ordered everyone to stay away, thinking that at any moment, the Elf would finally leave them in peace, and let their lives get back to normal.

Faramir couldn’t speak, so Haldir simply held him for over an hour, kissing his eyes and his forehead, rocking him gently and whispering that no one would ever hurt him again. As the story finally came out in bits and pieces between Faramir’s brokenhearted sobs, Haldir felt a rage building in him that rivaled even the fury he knew in battle, when his only thought was to kill his enemy, or, especially if it was an orc, to make him die a long, and painful death. That was just the type of death Faramir’s father deserved, he thought.

“So… so you see, Haldir,” Faramir finally managed, “you… have to… to leave, and never come back here.”

“No.”

Faramir shook his head and wiped his tears on Haldir’s tunic. “You have to. You aren’t safe here, you aren’t safe with me!”

“You’re right,” Haldir said softly. “It’s not safe here, for your father will undoubtedly pay someone to kill me.”

“Aye… he probably already has,” Faramir said, his eyes and throat burning from crying so hard and for so long, thankful that Haldir would go with no further argument. “You should leave today, right now.”

“Yes, today,” Haldir said. “I will leave today, later this morning. And you, my dear one, are coming with me.”

“I… I cannot…”

“Do you remember,” Haldir interrupted him, “when you said you could not ride a horse, and I asked you only if you wanted to?”

Faramir nodded and rubbed the back of his sleeve against his nose.

“Then I ask you again… do you want to leave this place, Faramir? Do you want to live in the world, to live with me in a place where you wouldn’t have to hide, where you wouldn’t have to be afraid?”

“Haldir, you aren’t making sense…”

“Do. You. Want. To?” Haldir’s voice was firm, even as his fingers were gentle on Faramir’s face.

Closing his eyes in defeat, Faramir rested against Haldir’s shoulder. “Aye. But it is not possible…”

“Nothing is impossible,” Haldir promised him, carefully resting his hand on the back of Faramir’s neck and kissing his lips. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m in love with you, Faramir, and I will not leave you behind.”

Despite everything that had just happened, Faramir felt something warm and wonderful blooming in his heart. Haldir loved him. This beautiful, exquisite Elf loved him, wanted a life with him. “Oh, Haldir, I love you too, but…”

Haldir kissed him again, stealing his words and making him wonder if it was, indeed, possible. “I love you, and you love me,” the golden Elf whispered. “And that’s all that matters. Everything else will work itself out.”

Haldir picked up Faramir and carried him to the baths. It was still early, and they were thankfully alone. He’d never been inside the baths, always thinking Faramir would prefer some things to be private, but now was not the time to worry about such things.

He locked the door behind them, sat Faramir down on a bench against the wall, then methodically emptied large pots of water that were heating over blazing fires into a large, bath tub. He added some cooler water, checked the temperature, and then moved back to his lover, gently removing first Faramir’s clothes, then his own. In all their time together, they had never seen each other fully undressed, and Faramir almost panicked, thinking that surely, Haldir would turn away when he saw his legs without the breeches Faramir always wore. Haldir, however, simply let his hands move soothingly over every part of his lover’s body, treating his legs no differently than he treated his arms or his back, simply soothing, and relaxing, loving and wanting to take each and every pain away.

Faramir, for his part, was simply stunned into silence as Haldir’s body was revealed to him. He had never seen anything so beautiful in all his life, and he was blushing furiously, but couldn’t bring himself to look away.

When they were fully undressed, Haldir picked Faramir up again, and stepped into the tub, sinking slowly into the water. On most days, Faramir was left to undress himself, and then practically dropped into the bath, every bone in his body jarring as it hit the hard bottom, and rarely having the luxury of more than half a pot of hot water. Haldir, however, had used them all, over a dozen, and the water was pleasantly warm for the first time Faramir could remember.

Slowly, with the utmost care, Haldir cleaned the blood from Faramir’s dear face, stopping only to steal a kiss now and then. “I will take you to safety, then return and make your father sorry for this,” he said matter of factly. “And then you and I will start our lives anew, anywhere you like.”

“But… but you have to take Rulen back home, and…”

“I sent Rulen home weeks ago.” Haldir smiled at the surprise in Faramir’s eyes. “I couldn’t bear the thoughts of leaving you, so I sent one of my captains with him.”

Faramir sat in silence for a moment, shocked that Haldir would stay for him. “Haldir, I can’t just leave with you, though I would dearly love to…”

“Why?”

Faramir was finally able to think now, the dull throbbing in his head slowly abating.

“Well…” He paused. Why couldn’t he leave this place? Well, besides the obvious. Haldir might love him now, but Faramir knew he was a burden. Enrif told him that every day, and how could he put someone he loved through the arduous tasks of taking care of him?

Before he could answer, they heard someone shaking the door. Keys were inserted, and Enrif quickly entered the room, closing the door behind him, and staring at Haldir, who still sat with Faramir in his lap. Faramir cringed, but didn’t look away, feeling stronger by the simple fact that Haldir was with him.

“You foolish, stubborn Elf! Why don’t you just leave?”

Haldir looked calmly at Enrif and smiled, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I am leaving. And Faramir is going with me.”

Enrif’s mouth dropped open and he laughed cruelly. “Why on all of Arda would you want him? He’s nothing but trouble, always needing something, always helpless, always enough to make one sick to look at him.”

Working to keep his face impassive, Haldir felt Faramir began to tremble in his arms. “I want him because I love him,” he said quietly. “He is no trouble, he is not helpless, and I think he is the most incredibly beautiful being I have ever laid eyes on.”

“But… he is crippled!” Enrif’s voice rose and his fists clenched at his sides, thinking of Denethor’s monthly ‘contribution’ to keep Faramir out of sight. He wasn’t going to lose that without a fight.

“He is perfect,” Haldir countered, Faramir’s reassuring weight on his legs the only things keeping him from jumping up and strangling the old healer. “You know, given the choice, Enrif, I would rather much rather have Faramir’s legs than your black heart. His legs may not look like yours or mine, but at least the disease that scarred him left him with the ability to love, and know happiness, and compassion, unlike you.” As he spoke Haldir’s hands ran over Faramir’s legs, sliding over the scars from the surgeries they’d performed on him as a child, gently massaging wasted muscles. “And, Enrif, I will give you until the count of 10 to leave us.” His hands were still lovingly moving over Faramir’s legs, but his eyes had grown cold. “One.”

“Oh and what will you do, Master Elf? I have the protection of Lord Denethor. You can’t touch me!”

“Two.”

Enrif was taken aback by the look in Haldir’s eyes, but wasn’t all that afraid just yet.

“Three.”

“Four.”

“Five.”

Haldir paused and looked at Faramir for a moment. “Shall I throw him into the fires, love, or simply drown him? I think the fires would be more poetic… so he would be scarred on the inside as well as the outside, even in death.”

He looked back up to Enrif, not even a hint of a smile upon his face. “Six.”

Enrif took no further urging. As he raced from the room, he weighed the fury in Haldir’s eyes against the rage in Denethor’s earlier that morning. Deciding that Haldir would never stop until he killed him, while Denethor, at least would have to take the time to order his death, he didn’t stop running until he’d reached the outskirts of the city, vowing never to return to the house that he hated so much, to the people he despised and had had to take care of every day.

Faramir almost giggled at the look on Haldir’s face, but then he remembered the chair, and his father’s words, and all his doubts and worries came back at once. “I’m sorry about the chair,” he whispered as he rested his head on Haldir’s shoulder. I should have found a way to stop him…”

“Shhh, meleth.” Haldir closed his eyes and kissed Faramir’s forehead. “I will make you another chair, one out of the mallorn trees of the Golden Wood, one better than the first.”

Faramir smiled faintly and nodded. “But… I cannot live in a talan, and I cannot be a good lover to you, and while I can learn to do some things by myself, I will never stop being a burden, I will never stop needing you to help me with so many things.”

“We will build a talan on the ground,” Haldir countered, “you already are the love of my heart, so making love with you will be perfect, you will never be a burden, and I will never stop needing you as much, if not more, than you will ever need me.”

There were no other arguments to be made, Faramir knew, none that Haldir couldn’t win. And though he was still certain he would be more of a burden than Haldir knew, he couldn’t stay here. Maybe, just maybe, he and Haldir could have a few happy months – or even years – together before it all became too much. Or maybe, once they left Gondor, Haldir would see what Faramir meant by being a burden, and would simply take him to another town, another sickhouse, one were he might possibly be treated better. “Gods, I love you, Haldir,” he whispered, burying his face against the Elf’s neck. “For as long as you’ll have me, I’ll love you.”

“Then you’ll love me forever,” Haldir murmured. “Just as I will love you.”

Chapter 9

Faramir had nothing to pack and though he still was certain he could not live with Haldir in a talan on the ground, he certainly couldn’t stay here either. Each time he even thought of his room, he could see the broken chair that Haldir had made him, and he remembered the rage in his father’s eyes. No, he couldn’t stay in this sickhouse, but maybe another, maybe one where he could learn to do something and pay his own way, so as not to be a burden on his father any longer.

He was nervous, constantly looking over his shoulder, certain that someone would be coming to kill Haldir at any moment. But Haldir looked calm, at least on the outside, as he had helped Faramir dress, placing a soft kiss just over each bruise, then dressed himself and carried the young man back to his room.

Faramir’s only possessions were the books his uncle sent him, and those he gave to the other patients. Even the clothes on his back were standard thin gray tunics and breeches given to all residents of the sickhouse, so he couldn’t call them his own either.

No, his only possession had been the chair Haldir had made for him, and now that was long gone.

Haldir had planned on taking Faramir riding that day, and had ridden Nahar to the sickhouse that morning. The day was cool, so despite Faramir’s protests, Haldir took the worn blanket from his bed, wrapped it around his shoulders, and carried him outside, all the while shushing Faramir as he worried about getting in trouble for stealing the blanket. It was the slightest of his worries, but since Haldir would not listen to reason and kept insisting they could have a life together, Faramir though winning the blanket-argument was at least a bit more feasible.

He was wrong of course.

It was still early in the morning when Faramir, wrapped snugly in his blanket, was carried outside and deposited neatly on Nahar’s back. Haldir climbed up behind him, and with one arm resting around Faramir’s stomach and holding him close, they proceeded to leave Minas Tirith. To Faramir’s surprise, Haldir guided their mount straight through the city. His father had always told him he was so ashamed of Faramir that he had to take the nearly deserted streets around Gondor to get to the sickhouse, so Faramir knew such streets existed. Not that he would know where they were, but Haldir seemed intent on letting all of the city see him!

“Haldir, we cannot go this way,” he whispered frantically. “Look, there are people up ahead! They will see me… and see you with me!”

“I am proud to be seen with you,” Haldir said, resting his chin on Faramir’s shoulder and pressing a kiss against his neck.

“But… ”

“But nothing, meleth. You are too beautiful to be hidden, and too loved for me to be the one hiding you.”

Faramir closed his eyes and shook his head, though secretly, he was thrilled to actually see the city of his birth and the people he would have seen every day had he not gotten sick all those years ago. “These are your people,” Haldir said softly. “Smile, love, look them in the eyes. You have nothing to be ashamed of.”

Slowly, Faramir lifted his head and looked around him. No one was staring, not really, they only gave him and Haldir a cursory glance, then went on about their business. They saw several other Elves who greeted Haldir then smiled at Faramir, and several of the men, women, and children walking the streets even smiled as well. No one made fun of him, as they had at the sickhouse, as his own father had, no one looked at him as if he disgusted them, and above all, no one told him he wasn’t good enough to be with such a stunning Elf. As they rode through the streets of Gondor, Faramir wondered if this was what it was like to be normal.

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.

Chapter 11

It took them many days and nights to get to Lothlórien, and with each step further away from Gondor they took, Faramir’s heart felt a bit lighter.

Riding for long periods of time still made him sore, but he never complained to Haldir. Haldir, however, always seemed to know just when he was getting uncomfortable. He would pull Nahar to a stop, wrap both arms around Faramir, and gracefully leap to the ground, claiming he needed to stretch his legs for a while. He would carry Faramir for many leagues, as if he weighed no more than a child, talking and laughing and stopping now and then to simply kiss him. In the evenings, they would bathe in a stream, or Haldir would let Faramir rest beneath a shade tree while he found them food.

As they stopped late one night to bathe in a warm lake still several days from Lothlórien, Faramir refused to let Haldir go. Their baths so far had been mostly innocent, with Haldir listening intently to the forest around them as Faramir relaxed and learned to swim using only his hands and arms, or washed Haldir’s hair, or simply curled against him and closed his eyes, enjoying the way the golden Elf’s skin felt against his own as the water swirled gently around them. He felt free in the water, as if he were no longer a burden to anyone, and hoped that wherever he ended up living for good, there would be water nearby.

Faramir found the he could distract Haldir from his listening by touching him in certain places, the crook of his neck, behind his knees, the insides of his thighs, or the column of flesh between his legs that invariably got hard the moment Faramir’s clothes had been removed.

Several days before, Haldir had kissed Faramir’s face and neck, then his nipples and stomach, and then, Gods, then he had taken Faramir into his mouth, licking and sucking until the young man had screamed his release for all to hear. Naturally, he had to try this on Haldir was well, and was surprised at how much pleasure the act brought them both. The first time he even came as his lover did, without ever having touched himself.

For as long as Haldir would have him, Faramir thought, he would revel in their intimate touches, and would certainly remember them for the rest of his life.

But once, Haldir had told him there was even more they could share, and though Faramir was doubtful that he was serious, or, at the very least, that whatever ‘more’ there was would be as wonderful as what they were already doing, he was more than willing to explore all their options.

As the water soothed and relaxed his sore muscles, Faramir swam up to Haldir and wrapped both arms around his neck, kissing him soundly. Haldir smiled, leaned back against the rock behind him, and let his hands roam over his lover’s backside and legs, sighing softly as they kissed again.

When Faramir pulled away, he was breathless and flushed and already their arousals were grinding against each other. “Show me more,” he whispered softly.

“More?” Haldir’s mind was still reeling from their kiss, and it took him a moment to figure out what Faramir was asking him. “Oh. More.” He studied his lover’s face seriously, then nodded. “Yes, meleth. I will show you more.”

They kissed again as Haldir carried his lover from the water, then carefully deposited him on a soft bed of leaves. As warm lips moved over his skin, it seemed to Faramir that Haldir kissed him over every inch of his body except the now aching length between his legs. Each time he tried to reach down and touch himself, Haldir would gently move his hands away, promising him that if he would only be patient, he would make sure Faramir wouldn’t regret it. The breeze was cool and welcomed over his flushed skin as Haldir licked away the last droplets of water, causing Faramir’s heart to beat entirely too fast, and his breath to come in short, harsh little pants that made Haldir smile.

Despite his distraction, Faramir couldn’t keep from watching Haldir as his lips moved over too-thin and too-pale legs – legs that had been useless for almost all of life, legs that had made his father hate him, and condemned him to a lonely, hopeless life in the sickhouse that no one wanted to look at or speak of in all of Gondor. But Haldir… he treated Faramir’s legs as he did every other part of his body, not shying away or simply ignoring the thin limbs; instead, he kissed them, nipped lightly at them when they were playing, rubbed them when Faramir had been riding for too long or let his fingertips move lovingly over every inch of them to relax tensed muscles when they ached for no reason at all.

Haldir took Faramir into his mouth again, making him even harder in no time at all, but this time, he pulled away before Faramir could find his release. Moaning in frustration, Faramir’s fists clutched at the leaves below him and he told himself to be patient and trust the Elf he loved.

Haldir had dropped their packs underneath the tree, and he pulled away from Faramir only long enough to reach inside for the small vial of oil he used to keep Nahar’s saddle treated. As Faramir tried to reach down and touch himself again, Haldir smiled, kissed his palm, and moved his hand away again, then gently rolled him over until he was lying on his side, and they were facing each other. Haldir was as hard as Faramir, his heart racing in a mixture of anticipation and need, along with a not-so-healthy measure of nervousness. He was afraid of hurting his lover, but didn’t want to hold anything back from him either… though he couldn’t seem to stop his hands from shaking as he opened the oil and slicked his fingers.

One hand rested on the side of Faramir’s face so that he could stare into lust darkened blue eyes as the other trailed slowly over his backside, gently kneading the muscles that were stiff and sore from riding and sitting for… well, for all of his life. “Just tell me if you need me to stop,” he whispered. His fingers moved down to tease the virginal opening between the round globes, skimming over the sensitive wrinkled skin and pulling away when Faramir gasped and simply nodded.

Pulling him closer, yet still watching his face, a single, long Elven finger pressed against Faramir just as Haldir’s lips captured his lover’s again in a slow, sweet kiss. Shaking arms wound around his neck and Faramir was filled with an anticipation like he’d never known in all life. As the fingertip breached his body, he gasped and tangled his fingers in long golden hair. It didn’t hurt, but he could feel the puckered skin and underlying muscles stretching as the digit pressed in deeper. He didn’t understand what was happening, what Haldir had in mind… and how he thought Faramir could possibly be any kind of a lover to him, if, indeed, that was where this was leading.

He pulled away from the kiss breathlessly and Haldir’s finger stopped moving at once. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, I just… ”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No. I… do you think I can do this? I mean… be with you like a… well, like a real lover?”

Haldir’s hand brushed the hair back from Faramir’s forehead and he smiled. “You are my lover, Faramir. You have been for quite a while now.”

“But we’ve… we’ve never… ”

“Shh… ” Kiss swollen lips moved lightly over Faramir’s face and neck, making his mind feel hazy and the words hard to find.

“I love you, Faramir,” Haldir whispered. “Don’t worry about anything else. Just tell me if I hurt you.”

Faramir closed his eyes and nodded, burying his face against Haldir’s neck and murmuring in agreement.

Haldir’s finger slid in a little deeper, then a little more, but Faramir could still feel the way his body fought the intrusion automatically. He was suddenly worried that it would hurt, and he would make a fool of himself even as he proved to Haldir that he could never be enough for him.

Moments later, however, he felt empty as his lover’s finger slipped from inside him. He looked down, seeing his still hard flesh resting against Haldir’s stomach and wondered if he’d done something wrong already and Haldir was giving up on him. But Haldir was simply slicking his fingers again, and as his lips were captured in another kiss, two fingers were carefully inserted, stretching him further. That was a little more uncomfortable, but he didn’t think it was possible for Haldir to move any slower. His fingers were barely moving as it was. Then, without warning, the probing digits rubbed over that small bundle of nerves deep inside him, and Faramir cried out and pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily, his muscles clenching around Haldir’s fingers as he tried to figure out what had just happened.

“Don’t, love… we’ll talk later. For now, just close your eyes, and trust me.”

Still panting for air, Faramir hesitated for only a moment and then shifted his hips back, wanting to see if he could manage that feeling again. But Haldir was one step ahead of him, already flicking at his most sensitive spot even as he pulled him closer and ground their erections together. Faramir was too tight, the skin too fragile, and even though Haldir was certain his lover trusted him, he was still too nervous to completely relax and let Haldir prepare him.

A change of plans would be the surest way to make this easier, and the change directly involved the very spot he was rubbing at that moment. He sucked on Faramir’s neck and rocked his hips, grinding their arousals together as he attacked the nub of nerves with his fingertips again, rubbing relentlessly.

Faramir, by this time, was incoherent, and gripping Haldir’s shoulders so hard there would be deep bruises there the next morning… bruises he would apologize for and kiss and feel guilty about; bruises that Haldir would be proud of, however, and assure his lover that he didn’t mind.

Haldir’s hand slid down between them and wrapped around Faramir’s now dripping sex, stroking him firmly. Almost at once, Faramir let out a strangled cry and spilled between them, his release spurting over both their chests and stomachs, covering the head of Haldir’s own swollen length. The muscles around Haldir’s fingers gripped him harder, then relaxed, and, just as Haldir had hoped, he was able to move them in and out of Faramir’s body with almost no trouble at all. He added another finger as slowly as he had the first two and stretched the small ring of muscles still further as Faramir trembled and gasped for breath, clinging to him with what little strength was left in his body.

Carefully pulling his hand away, Haldir simply wrapped both arms around his lover, whispering soft, nonsensical words against his ear as he held him through the aftermath of his orgasm, soothing and kissing every inch of skin he could reach between softly spoken endearments.

Faramir was barely able to think as he lay shivering and messy and stunned to realize that that tiny spot had existed inside him for all his life, and he’d never known about it. “There can’t be more than this,” he whispered against an elegantly pointed ear.

Haldir smiled at the innocence and wonder in his lover’s voice and loosened his embrace. He maneuvered them both until they were spooned together, with Faramir’s back against Haldir’s chest. Haldir reached between them and repositioned his erection so that it curved between Faramir’s legs, pressing against the young man’s now spent arousal and the delicate sac that hung below. He lifted his lover’s leg and began rocking, letting his rigid length rub lightly over now oversensitized flesh, slowly bringing Faramir’s arousal back to full hardness.

When he pulled away, Faramir moaned in protest, but this time Haldir didn’t stop him from touching himself. His erection was already slick with Faramir’s release, and as Faramir was distracted and rocking into his own hand, Haldir parted his lover’s legs and positioned himself against the small opening he’d so carefully prepared.

Faramir froze immediately. He wanted Haldir, there was no doubt about that, but he well knew how thick the Elf’s sex was, and he was certain the act of making love would tear him apart. “Haldir… ”

“It’s all right, love,” Haldir whispered, feeling his lover tense in his arms. “Do you want me to stop?”

Faramir took a deep breath, told himself that he had to do this for Haldir’s sake, and shook his head. “No… I’m all right. I’m sorry… just… go slowly?”

“Faramir, I would die before I would hurt you. You know that, don’t you?”

He did know it. Haldir had proven himself so many times over the last weeks, that Faramir wondered why he was even afraid. He nodded, took another deep breath, and closed his eyes. “Take me,” he whispered softly. “I’m yours, Haldir – I always have been and I always will be.”

Haldir positioned Faramir’s leg forward and bent at the knee, then moved his hand to rest on his lower stomach, holding him still as he gently pushed forward, stopping when just the head of his arousal had slipped inside. He could hear Faramir breathing heavily, and could sense that he was still a bit afraid, no matter how hard he was trying not to be. After a lifetime of being told he was a failure, Faramir always was afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing… even in a situation like this. That was one habit Haldir was determined to break him of.

Gritting his teeth in an effort to stay still, Haldir closed his eyes and kissed the back of his lover’s neck, whispering softly, promising to stop if Faramir needed him too. One arm lay beneath Faramir’s head, as his free hand moved to lightly rub over already-hard nipples, then lower, tugging lightly on Faramir’s length, hoping to keep him distracted.

It seemed, for them both, to take forever, but finally, Faramir relaxed and nodded. “I’m fine,” he whispered as his hand strayed back down between his legs and his fingers joined Haldir’s to stroke himself. “More, love… more.”

Haldir moaned at his lover’s words, but did as he asked. His hips moved forward, and he could feel Faramir’s body accepting him inch by inch. He let his fingers drift from Faramir’s erection to his inner thigh, caressing him softly. Lifting his leg high in the air, he pulled Faramir back against him, loving the tight, velvety heat surrounding him, the way Faramir had put so much trust into him, the way they fit together so perfectly. He began to thrust, slowly, shallowly at first, then faster and deeper, judging the speed and depth by the rhythm of Faramir’s hand as he stroked himself.

For his part, Faramir was certain he would lose his mind. The pain, what little there had been, was long gone. Now he now simply felt a blissful pleasure he couldn’t find the words to describe, and a completeness he never thought he, of all people, would ever experience. He began to move, taking Haldir in deeper, until he was controlling their lovemaking completely, wanting all Haldir could give him.

Though neither of them wanted it to end, both Man and Elf were soon moving together as one, drawing closer to their releases with every passing moment. Faramir came first, as his sweet spot was slammed into again and again, and his vision dimmed. His entire body clamped around Haldir’s length and he came hard followed only moments later by his Elven lover. They both cried out loudly as their releases washed over them and Haldir held Faramir tight against him as his entire body began to tremble. “I’ve got you, love,” he murmured against his lover’s ear. “I’ll always have you… ”

Faramir had never felt such peace as Haldir held him though the aftermath of his orgasm. He felt completely relaxed and for the first time in his life, forgot that he wasn’t ‘normal.’ “Gods, I’ve never… I didn’t know… ”

Haldir smiled and nuzzled against his lover’s neck. “I know, meleth… I know.”

And Faramir thought that perhaps Haldir did know, or at least, he understood. “Can we do this again?” he asked as he felt his lover slip from inside him and managed to turn to face the golden Elf. “Often?”

Relieved that he hadn’t hurt Faramir, Haldir chuckled softly and kissed the tip of his nose. “As often as you like.”

“Good.” Faramir’s breathing was slowly returning to normal and he snuggled close to his lover. “I think I’d like that quite often if… if you enjoyed it as well.”

Haldir moved one arm to gently tilt Faramir’s face up until their gazes met. “I loved it,” he said softly. “I love you.”

Faramir smiled and sighed in utter contentment. “I love you too, Haldir, so very much. I… ” His words were cut off as Haldir sat up, bringing Faramir with him, as he was still holding him close. “Someone’s on the other side of the hill,” the Elf whispered. “And they’re coming this way.”

Chapter 12

Moving quickly and quietly, Haldir kept his eyes trained on the forest behind them. He reached for the small pile of clothes they’d discarded before entering the water, and handed Faramir his tunic and breeches without a word. Dressing quickly, he helped Faramir slide on his breeches and heard him mumble an apology for making so much noise. Haldir shook his head, and knelt beside his lover, brushing still-damp hair back from his forehead. “Don’t be,” he whispered. “From the way they’re heading directly toward us, I’d wager they’ve been tracking us for some time now.”

Faramir closed his eyes and was filled with a sense of dread. He couldn’t fight, couldn’t protect himself or the Elf he loved. As usual, he was useless. But the thought of just sitting there, while Haldir had to face the danger alone made him sick to his stomach. No. He’d die first.

He could hear someone approaching in the distance, and they were making no effort to tread lightly.

Haldir gently picked his lover and tried to sit him back down among the thick roots of a large tree, facing away from the danger. With his dark tunic and dark hair, he could almost blend in – which was exactly what Haldir was hoping for.

“No,” Faramir hissed, “I’m going to help you… ”

Haldir shook his head, trying to pry Faramir’s arms from around his neck. “Faramir… ”

“I won’t just sit here while you try and fight for us both!” Faramir’s voice was just above a whisper, but so fierce that Haldir straightened back up at once. “You’ve never once treated me like a cripple, Haldir. Don’t start now.”

It went against everything in Haldir, but he could see by the fire in his lover’s eyes that he meant every word. He moved around the tree, where Faramir would only be partially hidden, and reached into their saddlebag, pulling out two small daggers. “I’ll train you how to use these one day, but for now… ”

“I’ll be fine.” Faramir sounded braver than he felt, but now wasn’t the time for fear. Now was the time to help… in any way he could. He only hoped it would be enough.

Haldir pressed a kiss to Faramir’s temple and nodded, trying his best to keep the worry from his face.

Only moments after he’d released him, Haldir moved away, hoping to draw their attention, arrow at the ready, prepared to face their uninvited guests. Judging by the sound of them, there were only 5… maybe 6, all on foot.

In almost no time at all, an arrow sliced through the air beside him and imbedded itself in a tree that was mere inches away from his head. His eyes narrowed, and he loosed an arrow of his own, keen Elven eyes having no trouble at all discerning their target. A scream followed soon after, then another as Haldir quickly notched a second arrow and loosed it as well.

Before he knew it, he was facing his attackers – 4 left in all, all Men, all wearing the colors of Gondor.

As the men advanced toward him, Haldir was startled to see one of the daggers he’d given Faramir go flying through the air and embed itself in one of the men’s chest.

Two advanced toward him and one started in Faramir’s direction. By the time Haldir had fought off his attackers, several moments had passed and he turned to see the last man standing above Faramir, lifting him up by the front of his tunic. His other hand was drawn back, ready to drive a blade into his captive’s stomach.

It all seemed to happen in slow motion. Haldir ran toward them, just as the man holding Faramir thrust the knife against Faramir’s side. At that moment, the Gondorian soldier looked into the eye of the man he was about to kill, the man who hadn’t even stood to fight him. Immediately, he dropped Faramir in a graceless heap and stepped back, staring at Faramir as if he’d seen a ghost. “You… you look just like… ”

His words were cut off as Haldir grabbed him, but his gaze never left Faramir, despite the fact that the Elf’s arm was pressing against his throat as he struggled to speak. “Who are you?”

“You try to kill us, then you want to talk?” Haldir increased the pressure on the soldier’s neck as he finally began to struggle. “How badly are you hurt, love?”

Blue eyes clouded with pain as Faramir clutched at the wound on his side. “He… he stopped…” His voice was strong, and he wondered why his attacker had suddenly pulled the blade to the side before it could do any real damage. “It’s not very deep. I’ll be fine once the bleeding stops.”

Haldir was filled with such a deep hatred of this so-called soldier who had hurt his lover that he wanted nothing more than to make him suffer before he died. “Faramir… give me the knife.”

The man before him froze, then leaned back against Haldir so hard, the golden Elf almost stumbled. “F… Faramir?”

Faramir looked up at the man and Elf struggling in front of him, lifting the dagger so that the tip rested just below the White Tree of Gondor on the man’s chest. He could do it, he thought, he could kill this man who would have killed him… and his lover, given half the chance. “How do you know me? And why are you trying to kill us?”

Haldir had just decided to simply break the man’s neck until he heard the softly spoken words fall from his lips. “My father sent me to kill you. An Elf and a Man, he said, an Elf and a Man that were bent on humiliating him and all of Gondor… ”

“Humiliate? We only wanted to live in peace,” Haldir growled. “We left Gondor behind, and weren’t ever planning to return!” As he spoke, his arm tightened around the man’s throat. “Who are you?”

“Boromir.” The single word was hoarse and broken. “My name is Boromir.”

Haldir squeezed harder and Faramir simply stared up at the stranger who was only mere seconds from dying, the pain in his side all but forgotten. “Haldir… Haldir stop! I think this is… my brother.”

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.

Chapter 14

When Haldir finally came back into the clearing, he made as much noise as possible, so that the brothers couldn’t help but hear him. He fully expected Faramir to tell him that he would be returning to Gondor with Boromir, and he told himself that he had no right to keep the Man he loved from getting to know his own brother. But, Gods, it would kill him to let Faramir go.

Faramir was sitting back against the tree where Haldir had left him when he returned, and Boromir was no where in sight. Sitting beside his lover, the golden Elf gazed off into the distance and stated the obvious.

“You let him go.”

Faramir looked down at his hands and nodded. “Aye. I couldn’t let you hurt him, Haldir. He is the only family I have, really.”

Haldir nodded and lifted Faramir’s tunic up without a word, then began packing the herbs into the wound. “I suppose he’s coming back for you then?”

“Coming back?” Faramir winced as Haldir pressed a little too hard against the cut on his side. He looked down and saw that his lover’s fingers were shaking. “Haldir… Boromir went back to Gondor. He’s not coming back for me.”

Worried blue eyes opened wide and met Faramir’s gaze. “But…”

“But nothing. I love you, and if you still want me, I’m going to Lothlórien to live with you in a talan of our own.”

Haldir could hardly believe his ears. Carefully pulling Faramir against him, he pressed a kiss to his temple and sighed with relief. “I thought you were leaving with him. I saw him holding you and…”

Faramir smiled and rested his head against Haldir’s shoulders. “His arms weren’t as gentle as yours, though he tried his best.” He lifted one hand up and combed his fingers through long blond hair as he continued. “And they just don’t fit as well around me as yours do.”

Haldir couldn’t help but laugh softly in delight.

“I know you don’t like him, but can he come visit us, do you think?” Faramir seemed almost afraid to ask, but figured at worst, Haldir would only say no.

“The talan will be as much yours as it is mine,” Haldir promised. “So if you wish him to visit, all you have to do is send word to him.”

Faramir rested his head on Haldir’s shoulder and smiled. “I’ve never had a place like that,” he murmured. “A place were I was wanted and welcomed and could call my own.”

“Well, meleth, your life is about to change.”

Thanks to the wound on his side, Faramir was unable to ride Nahir for the remainder of the trip. He tried more than once, but Haldir could see that it hurt him, and would always gently pull his lover, (who would, of course, be apologizing profusely) from the horse, assuring Faramir that it was no trouble to carry him.

And so they made their way to Lothlorien, Faramir in Haldir’s arms and Nahir following close behind. It was dark when they arrived, and both Man and Elf were exhausted. They stopped by the healer’s talan, where they were told that Faramir’s wound was healing well and were given some more herbs to speed the healing along. Faramir was stunned that the healer didn’t seem to think less of him because of his legs and when he told Haldir this, the golden Elf had simply smiled and promised him that he would have many, many such surprises as he met the other Elves of Lothlorien.

“Welcome home, love,” Haldir whispered as he carried his lover up the winding staircase of the talan where they would live until Haldir built them one that was more accessible to Faramir.

Carefully, he laid Faramir back on their bed, promising to show him everything the next day. Haldir undressed, helped Faramir off with his breeches, then crawled into bed next to his lover.

“Are you all right, Haldir?” Faramir’s voice was soft in the darkness, as he snuggled up close to Haldir.

“I’m fine, just tired,” Haldir whispered.

Faramir felt ashamed that he hadn’t been able to ride the last few days, and wondered if Haldir regretted bringing him here. “I’m sorry to be so much trouble. I could have… ”

“I’m tired,” Haldir interrupted, letting his hands move over Faramir’s back in a gentle caress, “but I’ve never been happier in all my years.”

Faramir thought about his lover’s words and smiled, though Haldir couldn’t see him in the darkness. “Me too,” he whispered, relaxing and realizing that despite the slight pain still in his side, despite the fact that his legs were still withered and useless, and despite the fact that he had left the only home he’d ever known to live in a strange land where he knew only Haldir, he truly was happy. “Me too.” He fell asleep moments later, safe in Haldir’s embrace, and thinking that yes, things might just work out after all.

Chapter 15

Faramir and Haldir settled into their new lives quite happily. The first thing Haldir did was make his lover a new moving chair. This one was sturdier and more ornate, and while their talan was small, and a bit cramped, it at least served to get Faramir from the bed to the small balcony so he could bask in the sunlight to his heart’s content.

Haldir’s days were spent building a new talan, this one on the ground. Their new home was larger and much like one of the houses Faramir had so often dreamed of living in. He had only seen them from his window, of course, but every day, he would imagine what they looked like inside, and how lucky their occupants were to have a place of their own.

Every day, Haldir would lower Faramir’s chair to the ground, then gently carry him down the steps, and place him in it so they could tour their new home. The golden Elf spent countless hours getting Faramir to draw what he had imagined, and he did his best to make the talan as much like his lover’s dreams as possible. After only a few days, other Elves stopped by to see what their Marchwarden was up to, building such a structure that wasn’t nestled safely in the trees. After meeting Faramir, however, they understood, and almost all of them stayed to help.

The Elves were charmed by Faramir, who was slowly coming out of his shell. At first, he rarely spoke to Haldir’s friends, but when he saw they truly seemed interested in hearing his thoughts and ideas, and weren’t simply speaking to him out of courtesy, he began to tentatively express an opinion, and was rewarded with the knowledge that for the first time in his life, he was learning how to make friends.

Every night, Faramir and Haldir would curl up together in bed and drift off to sleep safe in one another’s arms. Some nights they would make love, but on the nights they didn’t, Faramir could sense that Haldir was just as happy to hold him as they fell asleep. It was a heady, incredible feeling for him when he finally realized that though Haldir cherished his body, he also cherished Faramir’s mind and heart as well.

The only dark shadow in Faramir’s heart was that he thought often of his brother, and lamented the fact that he would never really know him. He grew close to Haldir’s brothers, Rúmil and Orophin, but he often wondered what it would be like to have a family of his own.

Little did he know, he was about to find out.

Boromir had returned to Gondor, furious at his father for ordering him to kill his own brother. The few precious moments he had spent with Faramir would never be enough, and after weeks of avoiding Denethor and never quite getting over his anger, Boromir packed his belongings and left the only city he had ever called home. He had no idea where he would go, or what he would do. He knew only that he could never serve a man who would disown his own son, and tell the world that he was dead, simply because he was not like everyone else.

He longed to see Faramir, but knew that Haldir, for all his protectiveness, would never allow him to get close to his little brother. Boromir did not like the Elf, and knew the feeling was mutual. Still, he had no other place to go, and hoped that he could visit with Faramir for a few days before he had to move on.

The trip to the Golden Wood was long and tedious, especially since Boromir knew he would not be welcomed. As soon as he stepped foot into her borders, an Elf that looked much like Haldir appeared at his side, holding a small dagger against his throat. Boromir dropped his weapons, asked for Faramir, and was surprised to see the golden creature sheath his knife and, though he received more than a few suspicious looks from the Elves that suddenly surrounded him, he was taken to Haldir’s talan.

As they got closer, Boromir was startled to see what looked like a small house. His escort, Orophin, stopped and called out to Haldir, who came to the door at once, hair disheveled and face flushed as he tightened the lacings of his breeches. He stopped short when he saw the Man his brother had escorted to him. “You!” He narrowed his eyes and looked Boromir over from head to toe. “Why are you here?”

“I wished only to see Faramir for a short while,” Boromir said defensively. “Then I will be on my way.” As he spoke, he looked around him at the structure behind Haldir and couldn’t hide his curiosity. “What is this place?”

“It is our home,” Haldir snapped. “Obviously it is easier for Faramir if we live on the ground, rather than in a tree.”

“Haldir? Who’s there?” Faramir’s voice came from behind Haldir, who paused only a moment before answering. He didn’t want Boromir to stay, but his love for the Man inside the living quarters behind him overrode any jealousy or anger that he might have, and he knew he could deny Faramir nothing.

“It is… your brother.”

A soft gasp could be heard from inside the small house followed by the sound of movement. A moment later, Faramir, eyes shining brightly and looking healthier and happier than Boromir had remembered, wheeled through the doorway. “You… Boromir. You’re… here?”

“Aye. I wanted…”

“He will be staying in our old talan for a while,” Haldir interrupted smoothly, loathe to say anything that would take the smile from Faramir’s dear face.

Boromir was as startled as Faramir, and looked at Haldir in astonishment. “I will?”

“Aye.” With that, Haldir moved behind his lover and pushed his chair carefully out the door. Boromir went to Faramir at once and gave him an awkward hug. The tension was obvious to everyone but Faramir, who was simply happy to see the brother he was sure he would never lay eyes on again. “Welcome to Lothlórien, Boromir,” Haldir muttered as he went back inside their new home.

Chapter 16

Haldir and Boromir came to an uneasy agreement over the next days, though they avoided one another as often as they could. While Haldir finished up work on their new talan, Boromir would push Faramir along the trail Haldir had cleared for Faramir’s moving chair. They would talk for hours, then Boromir would return his brother to Haldir’s more than capable hands until the next day.

Haldir would have been jealous, had Faramir not been so innocently happy and glad to be back home when he returned every evening. He would wrap his arms around Haldir’s neck, and settle against him, always insisting on at least a few sweet kisses before they discussed their days. As often as not, it would be an hour or so later before they managed to move on to something else, but neither Man nor Elf were complaining.

Faramir would tell Haldir everything Boromir had talked to him about in the previous hours – mostly about Gondor and the family that Faramir had never known – and though Haldir still didn’t care for his lover’s brother, he didn’t have the heart to tell Faramir how he felt.

Boromir, always the restless sort, usually ended up wandering around Lothlórien after he saw Faramir safely home. The Elves were a bit weary of him, but he did eventually make friends… and catch the eye of one Elf in particular. They began spending time together, sharing their meals, taking long walks, and finally, Boromir began spending his nights at a talan other than his own.

Haldir, of course, had no idea. He had been too involved in doing what he could to make life easier for his lover, and helping him strengthen his arms so he could move from their bed to his chair and vice versa, if he needed to when Haldir was not around. Faramir marveled at how many things he actually could do, and loved Haldir even more for showing him how to be independent.

Haldir taught him everything from reading the books written in Elvish he had collected over the years to cooking meals fit for the most discerning Man or Elf. Most evenings were spent cooking side by side then simply relaxing together in their talan, or in one of their favorite clearings by the lake.

Day by day, Faramir grew more confident in his own abilities. Rather than putting distance between himself and Haldir, however, his new outlook on life brought them even closer together. He felt more like Haldir’s lover and mate than the useless being he had always seen himself as for most of his life.

And though Haldir was beside himself with anxiety, when Faramir wanted to go to the market alone, Haldir swallowed back his fear and waved goodbye as his lover wheeled down the path that led to their talan. And, of course, when Faramir returned that night and announced that he had ran into Boromir earlier that day and invited him and his date for dinner, Haldir knew better than to say a word. He had after all, told Faramir it was his talan as much as it was Haldir’s.

He was stunned speechless, however, when Boromir arrived later that night with Lord Celeborn.

The golden Lord had simply smiled at Haldir, complimented him on his ingenuity in designing the new talan, and sat down at the small table where dinner was already waiting.
Dinner went well, and if things were a bit strained between Haldir and Boromir still, they did manage to make it through their meal with only a few cross words. More than once, they had even amused one another, though both tried to hide it.

Celeborn and Faramir looked at each other and shared a sly grin. Haldir and Boromir were very much alike – anyone could have seen that – and despite themselves, they would end up as friends, if only because they both loved Faramir with every fiber of their beings. Faramir, as innocent and blameless as anyone could possibly be, was not above a bit of pouting with either of them to see that it happened, either, and Celeborn fully approved. Boromir was, if Celeborn had anything to say about it, going to be a full time resident in Lothlórien, just as Faramir would be.

“They are in love,” Faramir observed later that night as he lifted himself from his chair to their bed, comfortable in his own nudity in a way he would never have thought possible as Haldir slipped out of his breeches. “Much like we are.”

“Lord Celeborn is not… I mean… he could not…”

“They are in love.” Faramir put his hand over his mouth to hide his smile. “If you could love me, then why are you so sure Lord Celeborn cannot love Boromir?”

“Because Boromir is a…”

“Yes?”

Haldir simply scowled as he lifted his tunic over his head and crawled into bed beside his lover, remembering that Boromir had nearly killed Faramir. Granted, he hadn’t known it was his brother, and he was only following orders, but Haldir had no intention of letting things go that easily. “Never mind.”

Moving closer, Faramir let his hand trail over Haldir’s chest, then lower, tugging lightly at the half-hard flesh between his legs. The organ responded immediately to his touch, filling and growing more rigid by the moment as the Elf wrapped his arms around the Man he loved and kissed him, hoping to forget this conversation had ever happened.

Faramir returned the kiss, his soft moans lost in the heat of Haldir’s mouth, until they both had to pull away for air. The flesh in his hand was now completely hard, as was his own sex, and he couldn’t help moving closer, pressing the thickened organ against Haldir’s thigh. “So, do you think Lord Celeborn lets Boromir take him?” he asked between nips and tiny kisses to Haldir’s neck.

“Do I think… Gods, Faramir, I had rather not think about that at all!”

Snickering, but not giving up on his gentle assault, Faramir’s hand kept moving, keeping Haldir’s arousal full and heavy. “I just mean, it is hard for me to picture someone like Lord Celeborn taking him… but then I cannot imagine Boromir allowing that either, so…”

Haldir finally pulled away and leaned up on one elbow. “Are you hinting at something, gûren?”

Faramir flushed furiously and looked down between them, where Haldir’s hand rested over his own, stopping his gentle teasing. “No, I just…”

“Faramir, I told you, you can tell me anything. You know I can deny you nothing. Is that what you are thinking? That you would like to take me?”

The blush staining Faramir’s cheeks grew even more pronounced, but he nodded his head. “You have always told me I could do anything, and I have been thinking about it… not that I don’t love what we…”

Long arms wrapped around him and Haldir kissed him so long and so tenderly, Faramir could barely think. “Aye, meleth,” the Elf whispered as he pulled away. “I would love to feel you inside me.”

Faramir looked up in astonishment. Truly, he had expected Haldir to tell him that this simply wasn’t possible, that when he said Faramir could do anything, he hadn’t meant that.

Long Elven fingers dipped into the jar beside their bed and carefully coated Faramir’s fingers. “Haldir… I… I mean, we don’t have to…” He stopped, suddenly nervous and worried that he would do nothing more than make a fool of himself. “I don’t know what to do…”

“Melethen, we have made love many times over the past months,” Haldir said, lifting his fingers to trail over Faramir’s jaw. “Just do as I have always done. Prepare me first, then the rest will come naturally.”

Gods, why did I ever think… Faramir’s nervousness had caused his arousal to wane a bit, but, he noticed that Haldir was still hard. He saw loving blue eyes gazing at him with such trust, however, and he wondered if that was what Haldir had seen in his own eyes the first time they had made love.

“Here… it will be easier if I roll over.” With that, Haldir gave Faramir a sweet kiss, rolled over on his stomach, then tucked a pillow beneath his stomach and parted his legs. The image made Faramir’s arousal twitch with renewed interest and return to full hardness almost immediately. He saw Haldir regarding him with dark eyes and gave him as confident a smile as he could manage, though his hand was shaking as it hung in mid air above the smooth curve of his lover’s backside.

“It is all right,” Haldir whispered, reaching back and giving Faramir’s free hand a gentle squeeze. “Just go slowly.”

Finally, Faramir nodded and gently explored the cleft before him. He leaned forward, doing as Haldir always did with him, and distracted the Elf with sweet kisses over his shoulders, neck and arm. He found the tiny opening with no trouble at all, and carefully let his fingertip tease the puckered skin, smiling when Haldir shuddered and spread his legs further. Faramir’s fingers slipped in to the first knuckle and he moaned softly as gripping muscles clenched around him. Gods… for the Elf to be so well endowed in other areas, this most intimate of places inside him was incredibly tight. Faramir wondered how it was possible that he could ever…

“Gods, Haldir, have you never given yourself to anyone before?”

The golden Elf chuckled and looked over his shoulder at Faramir again. “You ask too many questions, my dear one.”

Faramir froze and carefully pulled his finger away. “I… I had no idea and you surely don’t want…”

“You would deny me this?” Haldir’s voice was soft, but determined, and he wasn’t about to loose this argument. “I have wanted you, Faramir. I just was not sure if you were ready.”

“I’m not! Not for this… not for your first…”

“Faramir.”

“No, Haldir, I could hurt you and…”

Haldir twisted his arm back, and slipped first one, then two of his own fingers inside himself. The sensation was uncomfortable at first, and slightly painful, but he kept his face perfectly neutral as he watched Faramir’s eyes widen and watch as he stretched himself. “Come, love… help me…”

Almost against his will, Faramir leaned forward and rubbed the skin where it was stretched smooth and pink around Haldir’s fingers. His own finger was still slick and he slowly worked the tip in alongside Haldir’s, whimpering as the wrinkled skin stretched even further and opened before him. His own sex dripped onto the sheets beneath them and he thought seriously that if only he reached down and touched himself once, it would surely negate the need for any further activities on his part.

“By the Valar, Faramir, I will never forgive you if you stop now,” Haldir managed as he rolled his hips, pushing the trio of digits deep inside him again and again and gripping the pillow beneath him with his free hand.

Slowly, Faramir relaxed, remembering the pleasurable aspects of being on the receiving end of being filled so completely. Pushing his finger in as far as he could, he searched for that one spot inside his lover that he knew would make him a writhing mess. He found it immediately, and though Haldir had often tormented the little nub of nerves in Faramir and the other lovers he had had over the years, he truly had no idea what an affect it would have on him.

“Oh, Gods, Faramir,” he whimpered, pulling his fingers away and letting Faramir’s finger rub relentless over what was, apparently, the most incredibly sensitive gland in his entire body. He tried to wait, but Faramir was having none of it, now actively pushing inside Haldir with his own three fingers, and marveling that he could hold this power over such an exquisite creature.

Haldir slid his knees under him and reached down, stroking his now leaking arousal in time with Faramir’s movements. The fingers inside him moved in a perfect rhythm, speeding up as he got closer and closer to his own release and finally pressing down hard when tight muscles clamped down around them in anticipation of Haldir’s finally letting go.

The Elf came hard on the pillow beneath him, spilling over his fingers and crying out Faramir’s name, his entire body seeming to contract, then release. He could only moan when Faramir gently pulled his hand away, and lay breathing heavily as the room seemed to spin around them and he tried to dispel the fog that had settled around his brain.

It took him only a moment to regain his senses, however, as he could see that Faramir was harder than ever and the same fingers that had been inside him were now wrapped around his lover’s shaft. “Oh no,” Haldir grumbled, reaching over and pulling his lover’s hand away, causing Faramir to growl at him. “You are not getting away with that…” Quickly, the Elf was on his knees and straddling Faramir’s thin hips. He stroked the heavy length that curved up between them only enough to smear the fluid leaking from the tip over the swollen head and then moved into position. Reaching behind him, Haldir parted the globes of his backside and held Faramir’s arousal against the now well-stretched and slick opening that was more than ready for him. He pushed down slowly, taking Faramir in inch by inch, gasping as he was stretched even wider, but watching his lover’s face contort with pleasure.

Faramir was shaking and covered in a thin sheen of sweat, both from the overwhelming desire he’d felt watching Haldir come undone under his ministrations, and from the now exquisite feeling of being buried inside the tight, heated passage he had never really thought he would know quite so intimately. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before, and his arousal gave a small but violent jerk and sent a thin jet of fluid deep inside Haldir’s passage. His hands rested on firm Elven thighs, and it was all he could do to keep from trying to thrust up and find his release at that very moment.

The only thing stopping him was the look in Haldir’s eyes, the look that said he wanted more, he wanted Faramir in a way no one else had ever wanted or needed him, but that he wasn’t quite ready yet. One deep breath helped calm Faramir’s racing heart. The second stopped the worst of the trembling. The third found unbelievably tight muscles relaxing bit by bit around his shaft.

He wanted to move then, and he could see that Haldir was ready, but there was one thing he wanted to do even more than that. Leaning up, he wrapped both arms around this Elf who had given him so much and asked for nothing in return, and kissed him with all the love and joy in him.

It all seemed to happen naturally after that. Haldir melted into the kiss, never breaking it as he began to rock his hips again, slowly at first, then with longer, deeper flexes of his thighs, lifting himself up until Faramir’s shaft was almost free, then pushing back down, harder and faster each time. Haldir’s hands were lovingly moving over Faramir’s face and neck until he began to grow hard again, but Faramir, unwilling to give up the sensation of being held so completely both inside his lover’s body and by the hands that had taught him and given him so much, reached between them and wrapped around Haldir’s erection, assuring them both that those long Elven fingers would keep touching him.

Haldir’s flesh was hot against his palm, the fluid that seeped out easing each thrust into his fist, causing Haldir to move faster and faster. Faramir lost his restraint first, gripping Haldir’s hip hard enough to bruise with one hand as the other tightened around his cock. He was limited in his ability to thrust since he couldn’t use his legs, but Haldir was driving himself down so hard and fast, Faramir couldn’t have been buried more deeply inside him had he pushed himself up from the bed anyway. With a loud cry, his release slammed into him, filling the passage surrounding his arousal with thick, warm jets of his own essence, even as Haldir came for a second time all over his chest and stomach.

Faramir fell back against the bed, but not until after he’d wrapped his arms around Haldir’s shoulders and pulled him against him. They lay together, breathing hard and trembling, both with relaxed, rather silly expressions on their faces.

“Well, it seems that I can do that after all,” Faramir observed, trying and failing miserably at sounding innocent.

Haldir laughed and propped himself up on one arm. “I do believe you can,” he agreed, licking at his lover’s lips, then carefully rolling from on top of him. “And very well at that.”

“All these years, and you have never let anyone take you.” The realization hit Faramir again as he realized just how old Haldir was.

“All these years, and I have never loved anyone like I love you,” Haldir whispered. “I have never wanted anyone else, nor have I given my heart away so utterly and completely as I have given it to you, Gûren. It is a simple as that.”

Faramir moved so that he lay facing the Elf who had changed his life in more ways than he could count. He was still young in the years of Man, and he had lived a life that no one would wish on their worst enemy. He had known pain and hatred, shame and loneliness, cruelty and vindictiveness. His own father had denied him, wished him dead, and tried to have him killed after destroying the only gift Faramir had ever been given by someone who cared for him.

Despite all that, Faramir thought as he gazed into the clear blue eyes before him and wound soft golden hair around his fingers, he would not have traded the life he’d led thus far for anything, because his circumstances, no matter how degrading and overwhelming they had felt at the time, had led him here, to this gentle Elf who adored him, and to a life filled with happiness, acceptance, friends, and absolute, unconditional love – all the things that he had, for every moment of his existence, been taught that he was not worthy or deserving of. In short, Faramir thought in amazement as Haldir pulled him close and wrapped both arms around him, he had all of the very things that he thought that he could never, even in his wildest imaginations, ever have.

~_~ FIN ~_~

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