Faramir Fiction Archive

The Road Ahead (NC-17)

Written by Valkyrie

18 December 2007 | 23561 words

Title: The Steward Awakens
Series: THE ROAD AHEAD (Part 2/8)
Sequel to: THE RITUAL
Author: Valkyrie (email)
Pairings: Aragorn/Faramir, Aragorn/Arwen (implied), Faramir/Éowyn (implied)
Rating: NC-17
Archive: yes, but let me know where
Warnings: m/m relationship in further chapters
Summary: At last Faramir is awake but things are not easy.
Authors’ note: this is totally AU. If you like to read things canon, this is not a story for you.
Feedback: kind words will be welcome as well as constructive criticism.
Disclaimer: The characters are property of J.R.R. Tolkien. I have not and will not receive any money for this story. It is free for all to read.

Very especial thanks to my beta reader Chris. All remaining mistakes are mine.

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Part Two – The Steward Awakens

Faramir was lounging on the green grass, the ever-present sound of the water lulling him. It seemed all was perfect in his haven. Nevertheless, he felt restless, a feeling that was strange to him in this place. Except… he paused in his reverie. He doubted for a second, but the elusive thought deserted him before it formed itself.

Faramir closed his eyes only to open them again when a shadow obscured the light. There, before him, was his brother! Now he remembered. Boromir had been here before but…

“Awake, little brother. It is time,” Boromir said.

“What? Boromir?” Faramir got up to stand before his brother. He reached out to touch Boromir’s face.

But Boromir met Faramir’s hand before it reached him, holding it and making the young man step closer.

Yet again Faramir tried to discern if this man in front of him was his brother or an apparition. He wanted to believe this was real. He closed his eyes and lifted his head to the heavens, feeling the warmth of Anor on his face. Suddenly, a single raindrop fell on his face leaving a burning trail upon his skin. Faramir opened his eyes and realised that dark clouds replaced Anor’s rays. He fixed his gaze on the man in front of him, feeling his brother’s hand squeezing tighter and biding him to get closer still.

“Awake, Faramir. It is time. You cannot linger here for soon it will be too late for you to return,” said his brother.

The young man shook his head, denying the words, feeling deep inside that soon something dire would be revealed to him. Something would happen and his haven would be stripped from him. He tried to extricate himself from his brother’s grasp but to no avail. His brother’s hold was steady and now was biding him to get even closer. Soon they were forehead to forehead, his hand trapped in his brother’s between their bodies.

Faramir whimpered, feeling something like a shock run through his body. The sound of the waters were not soothing him anymore but roaring in his ears. He felt his body getting weaker, as though he would fall at any minute, his legs supporting him no more. His entire universe was concentrated in that gripping hand and the touch of their foreheads. He squeezed his eyes shut as his legs gave up on him at last. He felt how his brother supported his weight, lowering him down on the grass, still gripping his hand in a painful way and now, resting his other hand on his forehead, the contact of it burning him. He opened his eyes and trembled in dread.

Aragorn.

Everything came back to him in a rush, everything crumbled before his eyes, his world reduced to the warm gaze directed at him and the awful memory of his ordeal. The memories were as fire in his mind. Consuming all the barriers he had built, leaving him naked and shivering under the onslaught of their force.

Faramir screamed.

The King of Gondor was lying on a bed in the Houses of Healing, resting from the ordeal that was awakening Faramir. His Queen was at his side but he was oblivious to it, still unconscious from the great effort he had made. His face was turned away from where Arwen stood beside the bed; his hair, unruly, and his skin, pale.

Varan knew he could do nothing, for this was a wound of the soul, far beyond his reach. The only good thing of all that had happened was that Faramir had regained consciousness, his breathing deeper and steadier at last. Calming him, though, had been quite the struggle.

Faramir had screamed until his voice was rough and nothing the healers did could put him at ease; they did not dare to give him something to sleep or calm him down for they feared he would fall on a catatonic state once more. In the end, the young man fell unconscious and to Varan’s relief this was not the deep sleep of before. Faramir slept restlessly, though, and the healer was now sure these two men would be the death of him. After all the chaos, he had asked for the Queen to present herself in the Houses of Healing.

“What happened?” asked Arwen at last, worried at seeing her husband looking so fragile and quiet.

“The King attempted to reach Faramir, once more. This time… he succeeded,” said Varan

“What? Are you saying that Faramir is awake?” asked Arwen, her voice raising a notch with expectation and happiness.

“Yes, my Queen, but he was most distressed. He is dozing right now, though he is completely out of the catatonic state he was in. His breathing is normal as well as his reflexes. We hope when he awakes again he will be calmer,” explained Varan.

“He overtaxed himself,” stated Arwen, caressing Aragorn’s forehead and holding his left hand in hers.

“Yes,” commented Varan, “I tried to stop him, but he would have tossed me aside if I would have insisted. Something is bothering me, though,” Varan paused for a moment.

“What?” asked Arwen, lifting her gaze from her beloved.

“The King screamed as though in pain, my Queen. They both opened their eyes at the same time, Faramir from his state and the King from the healer’s trance and then, they screamed, at the same time too. The King, though, collapsed at once. Faramir on the other hand… was almost hysterical. We were surprised he had such strength left in him,” finished Varan.

“Maybe,” started Arwen, “Faramir did not want to come back. Maybe this time Aragorn was stronger than his will to die and his reluctance hurt them both,” she finished, concentrating all of her attention on Aragorn again.

Varan left the Queen alone with her husband and went to assess Faramir’s condition once more.

Aragorn stirred. He opened his eyes, his gaze trained away from Arwen. He could feel, though, that she was holding his hand and this comforted him somewhat from the great sadness he felt inside. Faramir’s sadness. Aragorn could feel the young man was unconscious but nevertheless, Faramir’s restlessness travelled through their bond. He started to wonder if Faramir would feel their connection when he awoke or if he would continue to block him from his mind. It was clear that Faramir’s barriers were weak while he was asleep for Aragorn could feel the young man’s unrest but would he feel the same when Faramir was awake?

Aragorn lost himself in his wandering thoughts. He did not realise the silent tears that gathered in his eyes and spilled their way to the pillow. He knew Arwen was at his side but he could not reach for her, or acknowledge her. He did not want to be comforted for he felt he did not deserve it. He felt he had ruined Faramir’s life.

“Do not torment yourself, beloved. Be glad for he has done the first step toward his recovery,” said Arwen, giving his hand a little squeeze.

Aragorn turned to see his beloved wife, who had been his strength these past weeks. “Forgive me for dragging you into this. You do not deserve to put up with so much suffering,” said Aragorn, his voice sad and tired.

“Come, let’s go to our chambers. You need to rest,” said Arwen, helping him to get out of the bed, “Faramir will sleep through the night and Varan will let us know if he wakes,” she stated.

Aragorn had no other choice than to obey and silently accepted her help. He was much too weak to even attempt to protest. Together they reached the royal chambers, each one immersed in their own thoughts, each one wondering what the future would bring.

“Faramir, you cannot go on like this,” pleaded Varan.

Two hours had passed since Faramir awoke and Varan had tried to make him drink some juice, or at least, to utter a word but to no avail. Weak as he was, the young man could be very stubborn. Varan was very surprised for he had not expected Faramir to awake until the next day. But here the young man was awake and so quiet when before he had been in an uproar.

Stubborn. The word gave Varan a grand idea, or so he thought. He left Faramir’s side.

“Can you bring the Lady Éowyn here, please?” he asked of the first healer assistant he saw. He thought things would get very interesting.

Aragorn woke up with a start. He sat on the edge of the bed and realised it was already dark outside and Arwen was nowhere to be seen. He took off his clothes and headed for the bathroom to take a quick bath before going back to the Houses of Healing. He would see if Faramir had awakened.

He tried not to think about how Faramir would receive him. He tried to keep his mind blank, to stay clear for otherwise he would give into despair. He did not want to risk his own doubts filter through the bond and burden Faramir. It did not matter he did not know if Faramir was able to feel him or not. He would not risk hurting Faramir again, not even with his thoughts.

“Enter please,” answered Éowyn at the knock on the room assigned to her. She was surprised when she saw Arwen enter the chambers.

“I am sorry, Arwen, I did not mean any disrespect but I cannot eat anything right now,” said Éowyn returning to her contemplation of the skies. She was sitting by the window, watching the rising stars. “I would wish down here it could be as serene as up there,” she spoke again.

“I am not here to scowl at you for not going to the dining hall, Éowyn,” said Arwen, her voice compassionate. “Faramir is awake,” she finished.

Éowyn was down from her perch by the window in no time. “Is he well?” she asked eagerly, standing now in front of Arwen.

“No, I must admit that he is not well. It seems that Aragorn forced his awakening and he was not… very pleased about it to put it mildly,” answered Arwen.

“He is in denial, still,” said Éowyn and it was an affirmation.

“Yes,” agreed Arwen, “I am here to ask you to go and visit him for I am sure you would do this gladly. Maybe your presence would do him good. Aragorn is sleeping right now for he was very tired afterwards. I am sure things will not be easy for them. There is a long road ahead of us and we have to ease it anyway we can,” she finished.

A knock at the door startled them both from their conversation.

“Enter please,” called Éowyn.

A guard entered the chambers and bowing his head, he said, “Healer Varan has requested your presence in the Houses of Healing, Lady Éowyn.”

“Thanks, I will go at once,” said Éowyn, excusing herself.

Arwen smiled a little and thought that Varan was devilish indeed.

“Lady Éowyn, thanks for coming so soon,” said Varan getting up from his chair. He was in his office reviewing some books.

“I do it gladly, Varan, for I hold Faramir in great esteem,” answered the Lady of Rohan.

“Would you like for me to come with you? I have to warn you, my Lady, he is most uncooperative. I have high hopes that maybe you can knock some sense into him. I saw how you got along so well. I think he might need someone… outside the conflict, for saying it in some manner,” explained Varan.

“There is no need for such warning, Varan. Do you not know that Éomer, King of Rohan, is my brother?” asked Éowyn, a mischievous smile on her face.

“I am well informed of that, my Lady. I had the ‘pleasure’ of treating King Éomer for a mild injury,” said Varan.

“Then you are familiar with what I had have to put up my whole life, dear Varan,” continued Éowyn in jest. “Faramir would be an easy task in comparison.”

“Very well, my Lady, I believe you,” said Varan. He thought that things, indeed, would get more interesting when he saw a determined Lady of Rohan make her way towards Faramir’s room in the Houses of Healing.

Éowyn for her part arrived soon at Faramir’s quarters. She cautiously entered the room, trying not to disturb the man lying on the bed. Faramir, she realised, was propped against his pillows, sleeping in an almost sitting position. She was astonished by the change in just a few hours for the man in front of her had some semblance of colour in his face. He was not deathly pale anymore and if what she heard was true, he was not as weak as it seemed. Maybe the gifts of the Valar, Arwen had talked about, had much responsibility in the matter, she thought.

She approached the bed slowly and sat on the chair beside it, preparing herself to wait for Faramir to awake, which she did not have to wait for long.

Faramir came to awareness very slowly. He had his head turned towards the room’s window and saw that it was dark. He turned his head slowly and realised Éowyn was at his side. A look at her face was enough to know that she knew.

She knew about his ordeal.

She had that look of ‘give comfort out of pity’.

“Get out of my room,” he said with a force that surprised even him.

“No, I will not,” answered Éowyn leaving her seat, determination showing in her gaze. “I will not have you drowning in self-pity and hiding from reality again,” she said, looking intently at Faramir.

“But you can pity me nonetheless when I am not allowed to do it myself,” answered Faramir, with a slight scorn in his voice.

“I do not pity you, Faramir, what led you to think I do so?” asked Éowyn in a most gentle tone of voice.

“It is painted all over your face, Lady,” said Faramir, still not giving in an inch.

“Well, you certainly have no interpretation skills, ‘Steward’,” answered Éowyn, emphasizing his title, because she certainly didn’t like the tone Faramir called her ‘Lady’. “For my face showed only concern for you. I looked forward to know you better, to talk with a gentle soul, a rare gift these days, and what have I encountered instead? Someone who has given up his life,” she said with sparks lightening anew in her eyes.

“What you can possibly know about what I have been through? What can you possibly know about how I feel? YOU KNOW NOTHING!” shouted Faramir slamming a fist down on the bed sheets.

“I know there are people around you who love you. There are people who would give their lives to save you. There are people that would die in your stead gladly. But this Faramir I see before me is not the one I knew for he would never have spoken to me thusly. This Faramir I have before me is bitter and acts like a petulant child,” she said, not stopping to breathe. She suddenly turned around, her emotions barely in check.

“I can foresee it,” she continued. “You will let no one comfort you. You will turn from anyone who loves you. The ordeal you went through… you are right, I cannot know. I cannot even imagine it. But I do know one thing and that is that you are not alone in your suffering. Imagine yourself being forced to hurt someone you love, imagine yourself doing this and being totally conscious about it, not being able to do anything to stop it,” she paused and turned to look into Faramir’s face once more. “Aragorn is destroyed for what he was forced to do to you and if you have some sense still in that thick head of yours, Faramir of Gondor, you would realise that, in a sense, he was violated, too, forced to go against his will.”

And with that last statement Éowyn left in a swirl of skirts leaving a stunned Steward behind.

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