Faramir Fiction Archive

The Healer (NC-17)

Written by Lilith

30 March 2004 | 11127 words

Chapter 4

The king's horse obediently followed Mablung's into the camp, leaving Aragorn free to focus other matters. Squinting as his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the bonfire, he searched the crowd for one man. Suddenly out of the shadows emerged the face he wanted to see more than any other.

"You have come, my lord."

Aragorn looked down from his horse at the young steward's bowed head. "Faramir," he replied, unable to say anything else as the young man's beautiful face tilted up towards him, expectantly, adoringly. His eyes hungrily drank in every feature of his lover's face. Aragorn's felt his heart swell up with love for this valiant man, this loyal man, this delicate and dear man who meant so very much to him.

"What a welcome sight you are, captain."

---

The next hours passed by in a blur for Faramir. The king was the centre of attention – all his men wanted to share their exploits – so the steward took advantage of this time to just observe his lover. He watched proudly as the king greeted each of the rangers by name and inquired about their news. There were few battle stories nowadays, the orcs being long banished from Ithilien, but Aragorn seemed just as interested in tales of recent hunts and survey expeditions as they rebuilt the gardens of Ithilien. As always, Faramir marvelled at how comfortable the king was with his men. Although there was still something regal about his bearing, the many years he had spent as Strider had obviously not been forgotten.

The warmth of the fire and the closeness of his lover gave Faramir an exquisitely warm feeling, embracing him with a sense of wholeness that he rarely felt. He watched as the flames cast shadows on Aragorn's face. Thoughts of fire had long haunted Faramir's dreams, but as the light and darkness danced across his lover's features, he realized just how achingly beautiful it could also be. He longed to reach out to touch the shadow, to try to capture forever this image and this moment. As he fought to stay his hand, the king turned his head toward him and their eyes met. In that glance, he knew that his longing was reciprocated.

"My liege, you look tired," he said softly. "Would you not like to rest now?"

The king cast him a sideways grin that made him blush. "I am tired, but I do not believe I will be able to rest for some time."

Faramir gazed into the older man's face for a long moment before he answered. "I am glad you are here, sire."

---

As the night wore on, the ranger's tales turned to yarns, and then to songs. Inside the captain's quarters, these sounds were drowned out by the men's long-awaited reunion. The king's arm encircled his captain's waist before they were even fully through the door, drawing him closer until their faces were only inches apart. Looking down into the steward's eyes, he trembled from the lust he read there. They kissed deeply, their tongues entwined, feeling their mutual hardness grow as their bodies pressed together until they were both gasping for air.

Aragorn deftly untied Faramir's tunic, lifting it over his head and catching his first glimpse of his muscled chest. He brushed his fingers through the ruddy hair and over his nipples, evoking a slight gasp from the younger man and a growing stiffness between his own legs. His hands continued downwards, skimming his palms across the taut and quivering belly before untying Faramir' leggings. He sensuously stroked his buttocks as the cloth slid over his sinuous hips and leaned back to take in the full sight of his lover. The sight of the steward's beautiful body never failed to arouse him.

Faramir noticed the king's arousal and reached his hand down to stroke him through his leggings. His erection strained against the light fabric, begging for release. As he loosened the ties, the king swiftly removed his tunic, then pulled Faramir closer. The sensation of his lover's bare skin was riveting. "I want you," the king whispered hoarsely.

His steward smiled as he led Aragorn to the bed and lay facing him, their legs entwined. Faramir's hand explored his lover's body, pinching his taut nipples, stroking the dark hairs on his chest, flickering lower and teasing him with his caresses.

"Is this what you want?" the young man asked teasingly, even as he grasped Aragorn's erection with one hand, encircling his balls with the other. Aragorn could only moan in response. Faramir's long fingers were doing amazing things to him as they ran up and down his engorged length. The king fought to maintain control, wanting nothing more than to release himself into his steward's hands. It took all his will to grasp Faramir's hard shaft. Its swollen heat brought him back to his senses as it begged to be stroked. His lover's moans brought him even closer to ecstasy until finally he could fight it no more, and waves of blackness washed over him in utter release. Seconds later Faramir followed him into the void, their seed mingling across their bellies as they held each other, panting and at peace.

The men did not wake until morn.

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