Faramir Fiction Archive

There are no Angels in Middle Earth (NC-17)

Written by AutumnVerse

16 June 2007 | 23974 words

Chapter 13

In and out. Faramir bites down on his lower lip, hard. Forever, this has been going on forever and it will never stop, he lifts his head, his hair flipping back and caught and twisted between strong fingers. He is being pressed down again, his cheek on the mattress, being rubbed against it with every movement. Too much, his wrists hurt from the ropes, the hard flesh inside him makes him see stars on every in and outwards stroke, more, oh please dear Gods more, but never enough and make it stop, please, go on, stop, don’t, more, till all he can think is please.

Please

And it goes on, hands drag over his sweaty skin, all his senses are on fire, he feels the pace quicken for the third time that night, his master is going to come again, but this time he feels a merciful hand between his legs. He hopes. His breathing stops as with all his being he hopes. He feels tears start to surface as gentle fingers work at the complicated pattern of knots that has prevented him from coming, the second it loosens, he lets go. He feels everything stop as his whole body tightens and tears are running down his cheeks and then all goes black.

From the safety of the trees Haldir and Boromir look down on the group of men that are looking through their little camp. They are desperately looking for footprints, but walking backwards and at the same time ‘wiping’ their footprints away with a leafy tree branch, has erased all traces.

As the men come closer, Haldir and Boromir turn towards each other. When they are directly beneath the tree they are hiding in, the man and the Elf leap off their branches at the exact same time, taking a few men out immediately. They grab for the swords the men were carrying and make to stand back to back, watching the remaining men come to their senses and come for them.

Not waiting for them to come close Boromir raises his sword above his head and with a great roar, runs and plunges the metal in one of the men. Haldir looks surprised for a moment, but quickly recovers to take on two men at the same time, matching their strikes and administering a rain of well aimed blows, till one of them lays bleeding on the ground and more have made it towards him. His measured quick paced movements make up a deadly dance, his eyes are calculating, the blue shining bright with determination, failing is not an option.

Boromir on the other hand is all brute force and fire, roaring and screaming he hacks in on his enemies, what he misses in training and experience, he makes up for by sheer passion. He takes out one after another, until he swirls around only to hit air and it is only then that he takes a moment to look around him. There are about 12 bodies laying around and Haldir is kneeling besides the last man to still be alive, binding his wrists together and propping him up against a tree.

In just a few big strides he is next to them. Haldir looks up; “It was that Master Lexius.” He turns back to the man, he stares into the frightened eyes, blood from a head wound slowly obscuring one of the man’s eyes. “Boromir, would you mind getting some water?”

When Boromir comes back, Haldir has bandaged the man’s wounds and made him as comfortable as he can. For a moment Boromir takes in the tired form of the Elf, even with barely healed injuries he has managed to not only fight off half or maybe more of the men, but managed to not got hurt himself. And within moments of being a fierce and focused warrior he was now himself again, quiet, practical and caring.

They give the man the water and then move themselves out of his hearing. Boromir stares in determined blue eyes; “He says that they have been sent here about a week and a half ago, he knows nothing of Faramir and he is very afraid of master Lexius. I think we can use him.”

“Use him?”

“Yes. He knows more of the city and more importantly he knows of men that are not so happy with Master Lexius being as powerful as he is. He could get us into contact with them and we could persuade them to work together with us and take Master Lexius down.”

“And free Faramir.”

“Yes.”

“Well let’s get to it then!”

Faramir opens his very tired eyes to find himself alone. He stifles a pained moan when he shifts his body, better to lay still, but no matter how great the pain, he reaches out his arm and feels under the mattress. When his fingers brush over the leather he relaxes, it is still here. He lets himself drift off to sleep again.

When he awakens again he is still alone but feeling a little better, he sits and takes some of the water and food left for him, then he listens very intently for a few moments and when he is sure that no one is near, he reaches beneath the mattress and pulls out the book. Using all the tiny bits and words he recognized, he has started to teach himself how to read. It is coming along very slowly but surely and he is fascinated by the bits he now understands. The book is almost like a guide into Elves, explaining all sort of things about their habits and ways.

His fingers move over the page, reading sentences over and over till he can make out what it means. Suddenly he stops. He rereads the paragraph he has just finished, it is like his heart stops and then he screams.

Master Lexius comes home to find his household in an uproar, frightened servants tell him that the ‘young man’ has gone violent, trashing his room and fighting anyone who dares enter. With angry strides he makes his way up the stairs and he can hear the noise of a room being torn apart from about halfway, it just makes him angrier. He opens the door and immediately Faramir is upon him, hitting him where he can before he recognizes him. For a mere second a shudder goes through the young man’s body, then he starts fighting with renewed strength, screaming: “You! You killed him! Murderer! Don’t touch me, don’t ever touch me again! You killed him!”

As Master Lexius uses every last bit of his superior strength to hold Faramir against him, squeezing his arms and legs tight so he can’t hit or kick at him anymore, he still hears him; “You… He is dead, because you… Don’t touch me! NO! no… dead… you…”

A quick but very effective blow to the head and Faramir slumps against him. Master Lexius takes the still body in his arms and walks him out of the room and into another, ordering his servants to take care of him. He returns to the trashed room and just stands there, until his eye lands on a book sticking half out from under the bed where it was dropped. He picks it up, reads the page and understands.

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/there-are-no-angels-in-middle-earth. Positive feedback is what keeps authors writing more stories!