Faramir Fiction Archive

The Healer (NC-17)

Written by Lilith

30 March 2004 | 11127 words

Chapter 3

Faramir glanced up suddenly, only to find that it was yet another squirrel bent on torturing him.

His men were merrily warming themselves before the fire, grateful for the chilly air that justified such a large spectacle. A freshly killed boar roasted on a spit, and kegs of ale had been pulled out of storage to welcome their honoured guest. The night had all the makings of a great party, and Faramir knew his men needed that. The monotony of forest patrol could wear on them. Although their numbers had been lessened and their vigilance relaxed now that the danger of Mordor had ceded, Faramir had insisted that the borderlands continue to be guarded. Never again would he give anyone cause to say he had let the enemy invade Gondor on a whim.

As his men relaxed, Faramir grew more anxious. He hid it well, but each twig that cracked increased his anticipation. The king would soon be here!

It had been over a month since the captain had last seen Aragorn. And that in Minas Tirith, where their activities had to be more covert. Although rumours might abound, neither man saw any reason to provide evidence to those who would object to their relationship.

Nonetheless, even in Minas Tirith, the king had found plenty of opportunities to visit his captain's room for "briefings" on the situation in Ithilien.

A smile crossed Faramir's lips as he remembered one of their briefings….

---

During dinner with the king and queen, Aragorn had asked if he would be available to review some diplomatic documents newly arrived from Khand. Glancing surreptitiously at Arwen, Faramir had replied that he was indeed free. The queen's face was, as usual, inscrutable. She never seemed to begrudge her husband's relationship with his steward, and for that he was grateful. Still, it was not something that he could ever approach with her. Faramir well knew that the queen commanded a part of the king's heart, a part that he would never have.

But for the part of the king's heart that he did have, Faramir was even more grateful. And he had proven this once again that night. When the king had arrived in his room, resplendent in a long garnet tunic, Faramir was ready. He smiled at Aragorn and drew him soundlessly into the room. Without a word, he loosened the silver ribbons binding on the tunic, letting the plush fabric fall to the ground.

Faramir had then lifted his lips to meet the king's. For a moment they both revelled in the gentle pressure and the closeness of each other's bodies, but they craved more. Their kisses become more passionate, the king's tongue entering the younger man's mouth and exploring it greedily. Faramir melted into his lover's embrace, the feeling of his throbbing erection growing as their mouths mingled.

Aragorn let his hand drop from Faramir's silken hair to his robe and gave a start.

"Well, my love, you are ready for me, aren't you?" He stepped back and opened Faramir's robe, revealing that his beautiful lover wore nothing underneath.

"I am always at your command," Faramir replied huskily.

The king had smiled and took his hand, leading him over to the bed where he –

---

"Captain! Captain, they're here."

The words seemed to come from far away, interrupting Faramir's revelry. He looked around and saw his men bustling around the campfire, making the final preparations for their royal visitor. At any other time, he would have hated leaving this wonderful dream, but for once the reality was even better.

He was about to meet his king.

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