Faramir Fiction Archive

The Price (R)

Written by Minx

28 February 2003 | 34809 words

Pairing: Faramir/OMC, Haldir
Rating: R
Disclaimer: LOTR and all its characters belong to Tolkien
Archiving: Drop me a line be do
Warnings: Violence, Slash
Summary: A break away captain from Harad brokers a deal with Denethor, and convinces him that giving him his desire for a week is a small price to pay for Gondor’s good. And it falls to the lot of Boromir and Haldir to help Faramir out. AU elements.
Feedback: Please do give! – use the form below or at greenrivervalley@gmail.com.

---

Chapter 1

“Welcome home, my friend,” Boromir turned around at the sound of a familiar voice, and his tired but pleasing countenance wreathed in smiles when he noticed the tall, blond figure who had greeted him as he headed towards his room.

“Haldir! It is good to see you! It has been so long!” he exclaimed heartily shaking hands with his old acquaintance, taking in the elven features seemingly unchanged since the last time they had met ten years ago in Edoras at an archery meet.

“You have changed,” Haldir commented, as he pushed back his hood revealing the trademark ears of his kind.

“Ah, but it has been nearly a decade,” Boromir exclaimed, “Although you have not changed at all.”

“A decade is not a very long time for my kind,” Haldir said smiling.

“Aye, you are true there,” Boromir said, “but, where are my manners, do come inside,” he jerked open the door to his room, “are you here for the council?”

“Yes, I am here for the council as a representative of Lórien. But, you have just arrived, surely you have other things to do, spend time with your family?” Haldir said.

“I have met my father, but had to leave for he has an important envoy meeting him today,” Boromir said, “And my brother I have yet to meet, but he is sure to come around himself, and when he does he will be pleased to meet you. Unless you have already met him?” He smiled thinking that Faramir would surely jump to meet an elf that too one from the Golden Wood. He had been so excited to hear of Haldir when Boromir had returned from Edoras.

“Would you join me in a cup of wine?” he asked, “I hope you are comfortable here?”

“The Lord Steward’s hospitality has been impeccable,” Haldir replied, and then smiled, “He even sent someone to request me my needs for the night.”

“And did you tell him you had a preference for blonde young Rohirrim men?” Boromir asked grinning as he remembered how interested Haldir had been in one of the contestants at the tournament who unfortunately had not returned the interest preferring the company of blond young Rohirrim women.

Haldir smiled, “No, but I did refuse the request politely.”

Boromir suddenly looked up from his goblet of wine, “Haldir, you must be careful.”

Haldir cocked an eyebrow up quizzically.

“I saw whom my father is meeting today. A commander of a breakaway troop from Harad. They have, it seems, been speaking with my father a few days now, offering their services to Gondor.”

“And?”

“The commander of the troop – Captain Fenekor, I have heard of him. You remember in Rohan one day when we went out riding and came across that injured man from the Harad camp?”

Haldir nodded. He had been truly appalled at that sight, the man had been repeatedly assaulted physically and sexually and lay in a ditch. They had taken him to the healers but he had refused on awakening to name his attacker.

“I found out later that Fenekor was the attacker, and that he does this regularly. If he finds out you prefer men to women, Haldir… I am scared he may hurt you,” he breathed softly.

Haldir nodded grimly, “Do not fear for me, Boromir, I can look after myself. Now tell, me who is this diplomat’s wench I hear much about?”

Denethor glanced back at the huge man in front of him.

“Captain Fenekor, surely -?”

“No! If he spends the night with me, and I get to use him for my entire stay here, we have a deal, else I call all off!” Fenekor retorted crossing his arms across his ample chest, his thin lips seemingly smiling through his tick dark beard and moustache.

Denethor sighed, “And he is the one?”

“Aye.”

“Very well, come with me then,” Denethor rose and headed for the door, “I have given you rooms on the same wing as his, and the servants have been dismissed for the duration of your stay. You may do as you please, but if you do not mind my requesting it, use your room and not his.”

He opened the door, and passed on a message to one of the guards, and then led Fenekor out towards one of the wings in the far corner. He never came this way nowadays, for he had little work there.

They entered the room allocated to the captain.

“You will not regret this, Gondor has much to gain from my troop, and we know of every tactic every movement Harad will employ. And we know their strengths and their weaknesses. In return for that this is small price.”

“I do this for the sake of Gondor,” Denethor informed him.

“Is that why you object little?” Fenekor inquired.

Denethor gave him a cold look, and was about to reply, when a knock sounded on the door. He bade the arrival enter, and watched his guest’s reaction. He could read pure lust in those eyes.

“You called for me, sir?” the new voice interrupted his reverie and he turned to look into grey eyes, that looked puzzled, apprehensive and hopeful all at once. He made the necessary introductions and then addressed the dark haired new arrival, who nodded as he spoke.

“Captain Fenekor wished to meet you. You will give him all the help he wants.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Captain, I take your leave, Faramir will give you what you want.”

“I will take what I want, my lord steward,” came the smooth toned reply as Fenekor returned Denethor’s bow. He rose, and walking up to the slim young man, suddenly reached for his face.

“Faramir, is that your name?”

Faramir’s reaction was cut off for Fenekor had already closed his mouth on his even as Denethor stood at the doorway. Faramir pushed him away, roughly, and scowled at him, “How dare you?” he spluttered angrily.

“My lord steward, would you be so kind as to –” Fenekor began.

“Faramir, do as he says,” Denethor said.

“But sir, —”

“That is my order, Faramir.”

“Father —?” he pleaded anxiously, as out of the corner of his now tearing eyes, he saw Fenekor remove his belt and finger it meditatively.

“It is for the sake of Gondor, you must do as he says!” with that Denethor turned on his heel and strode out of the room.

Fenekor reached for Faramir and grabbing him roughly began tearing off his shirt. Faramir struggled hard, screaming for his father all the while. Two hard slaps across his face stunned him into silence, until he stood completely naked in front of the Harad man, who drunk in the sight of the supple young body. He grabbed him by the arm, wrenching it badly in the process, and causing Faramir to cry out, and pushed him onto the large bed.

Faramir fell heavily and lay dazed for a few seconds unable to move. When he recovered his breath he raised himself up only to fall back as a thick leather belt came flying on his chest. He yelled in pain and shock, but by the time Fenekor was done all he could do was whimper softly. Then he was turned onto his stomach, and whipped across his back. When it was all done, he was in such pain, that everything else receded to the background.

Fenekor grabbed his hair and threw him onto the ground, where he kicked him repeatedly. But he never hit Faramir’s face.

He kept hitting the young man even as he undressed himself. He slapped a half dazed Faramir awake and paraded his huge well-muscled body in front of him, before giving him a bruising kiss. Throwing him back on the bed, Fenekor entered Faramir without warning or preamble. And smirked contentedly as he heard the screams.

Faramir screamed and screamed till he had no voice left. It hurt, it hurt so much, as the other’s shaft pounded mercilessly into him, tearing through him, sending trickles of blood down his legs.

Then a great weight lifted off him, and he felt someone turning him over and licking his neck and torso, “That was lovely darling,” a voice at his neck whispered, “We must do it again tomorrow, and the day after, and – ”

Faramir kept his eyes shut. Even when he was slipped into a long robe, and scooped up in Fenekor’s arms.

“Open your eyes,” Fenekor commanded, and Faramir instantly obeyed.

The thin lips closed in on his again.

When his gasping mouth was released, Fenekor leered down at him, and then carried him back to his own room. There he threw him onto his own bed, and then bent down over him as he lay there heaving. One hand reached out and went under his robe, lifting it up a long way. Fenekor continued smirking at his face.

Faramir felt the hand groping his groin area, and then suddenly he was being tickled there. He wriggled in protest. Fenekor finally stopped, and then smoothing the robe over him, bent and kissed him on his groin through the coarse fabric of the robe. Tears pricked his eyes suddenly as he realised all he’d been through. Fenekor leered at him once again and then walked out of the room.

“I wonder where Faramir is?” Boromir said aloud as he walked Haldir back to his room, a slight disappointment showing up in his voice.

“Does he not know you are coming today?” Haldir asked.

“He does, but I suspect he thinks I will be coming in much later, after meeting with father,” Boromir responded, “I think I shall go to his room, he must be there, will you not come? He will like to meet you.”

“Certainly.”

Boromir lead the long winding way through a number of hallways and staircases to the wing his brother’s chamber was in.

“This is some distance away from the great hall and yours and your father’s chambers,” Haldir commented.

Boromir simply nodded in reply.

NB: Please do not distribute (by any means, including email) or repost this story (including translations) without the author's prior permission. [ more ]

Enjoyed this story? Then be sure to let the author know by posting a comment at https://www.faramirfiction.com/fiction/the-price. Positive feedback is what keeps authors writing more stories!