Faramir Fiction Archive

The Healer (NC-17)

Written by Lilith

30 March 2004 | 11127 words

Chapter 2

Aragorn rode out two days later. Mablung, Faramir's most trusted ranger, had been visiting his family in the city, and was happy to escort the king back to the camp.

As soon as they left the city, he felt a great weight being lifted from his shoulder. Arwen was right. Aragorn longed for the peacefulness of the forest. And for Faramir's embrace.

Not for the first time, Aragorn was surprised by Arwen's acceptance of his relationship with his steward. He wondered if he would be as accepting if his wife sought the arms of another. And he knew that he could not face the thought of Faramir turning elsewhere.

Aragorn remembered once overhearing the rangers teasing Faramir about the visit of his friend, Éowyn. Aragorn knew the two had become close in the Houses of Healing. He did not like to think about how close.

Jealousy mingled with desire as he thought of his young captain. Although it was not fair, he did not want to share Faramir with anyone. He had laid royal claim to his dusky grey eyes, his lovely dark hair, his lithe body, the full lips that he wanted to taste right then...

"Are you all right, my lord?" Mablung's voice startled him. "You looked like you were about to fall asleep."

Aragorn shook his head sharply before answering. "Yes, I am fine, I am just very tired. I am looking forward to a few days of rest."

"And you will surely find it in Ithilien, my lord."

Aragorn automatically searched Mablung's words for any hidden meaning, but found none.

The king's relationship with his steward had not escaped the notice of the rangers, but if they minded they did not show it. In fact, if anything they seemed pleased to see their beloved captain happy.

Years ago, the rangers had put up a pretence, even arranging separate sleeping quarters when the king visited. But after several visits during which the king's chambers were never used, this practice was discreetly abandoned. Besides, the howls of pleasure emanating from the captain's tent could not easily be missed by men attuned to the sounds of the forest.

Aragorn felt himself again slipping away into another daydream, so he shook himself hard and straightened up in his saddle. No, it would not do to think about howls of pleasure until he actually reached the captain's tent, not if he meant to arrive in one piece.

---

The riders had set out late, so night was already falling as they neared the ranger's camp. From afar, they spied the huge bonfire around which the men were waiting to greet their king.

"Do you think they will have saved any meat for two hungry travelers, Mablung?" asked Aragorn, feeling giddy with excitement as they got nearer their destination.

"Aye, sire, I imagine they will have saved a spot for you. Me, I will probably have to make do with nothing more than dried fruit," sighed Mablung.

"Nay, if it comes to that, you will have my share, and I shall feast on the fresh air of Ithilien." Aragorn felt his mood become more expansive the closer they got to camp, and to his lover's arms.

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