Faramir Fiction Archive

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

Written by AutumnVerse

16 June 2007 | 23974 words

Chapter 16

It is night by the time Haldir and Boromir are convinced that they have lost their pursuers. They find a place to make camp by a little stream. Carefully Haldir lays Faramir down, his eyes filled with worry at the blood that has soaked through the sheet, but he is even more concerned that Faramir hasn’t woken up yet.

He carefully arranges the sheet around Faramir, his hand unable to resist stroking soft hair from his forehead, drifting off and lingering on a bloodied cheek. He sighs and gets up, makes his way over to the stream leaving Faramir to his very concerned brother. As he goes to get some water to start washing away the blood, he finds himself in doubt. Wondering what to do. There are a million what ifs going through his worried mind, as he looks back over his shoulder at the two men.

He turns his head back and stares at the moonlight reflecting off the water, trying hard to ignore the pain he feels inside. Pain for a young man who has went through things, that he would not wish on anyone, especially not on the one who is so close to his heart. Pain for the internal argument that Faramir is far too young for him, but somehow he just knows that they are good for each other. And finally pain for himself. For what was forced upon him, what almost killed him and what haunts him every time he closes his eyes.

Not now.

Haldir uses the same words that have gotten him through the last weeks. Not now, I will deal with all of it another time, right now Faramir needs me.

He straightens himself and then bends down to fill the bowl with water and returns to the brothers to find Boromir starting a fire. He smiles at the blond man, a small smile of gratitude, that doesn’t quite touch the sadness in his eyes and then kneels down. Setting the bowl aside he gently starts to rip pieces of the sheet, he takes one of the pieces, submerges it in the water, wrings it and then starts to wash Faramir’s face. For some reason he has to start there, he swallows as he thinks of what lays hidden under the sheet and he can’t bring himself to remove it just yet.

The wet cloth travels over Faramir’s face and Haldir finds himself smiling as his fingers follow in its path. The way the light of the flames play over Faramir’s face, plays with Haldir’s heart as well. Beautiful, he thinks, his smile widening, just beautiful.

A sudden urge to see the blue eyes that go with the face under his hands, makes Haldir remember again and he puts the now pinkish piece of cloth aside and starts to remove the sheet from Faramir’s upper body. He goes slow, stopping at times to gently work free parts that are stuck to Faramir’s body in dried blood. Finally he is done and for the first time allows himself to really look. Mainly scratches, he thinks, as he begins to clean Faramir’s chest, and some bruises.

As he cleans his arm, he stops as he reaches a badly bruised wrist, the hand with the cloth hovering as he stares at a spot where the rope has cut deep into Faramir’s flesh. Unwanted flashes of Faramir’s face screwed up in pain, as his body moves and the rope tightens, go through Haldir’s mind. He digs his nails into the palm of his hand, the pain there helping him to shut out the pain within. He shakes his head and biting his lip, he continues.

Haldir finds himself trembling as he lays beside Faramir. He is not sure whether he is furious or heartbroken, all he knows is that what he found on Faramir’s body he wishes to never see on him or anyone else ever again. He hears Boromir move in his sleep and remembers the way he had to hold the screaming and cursing man, till he broke down, rested his head on his hand and cried.

It was the terrible sight of Faramir’s burned flesh that was the final straw for both of them. Boromir cursing himself for not taking better care of his little brother, cursing Master Lexius to burn for all eternity, cursing the whole world for allowing something like this to happen. And Haldir just held him, held him till after the tears dried up and then laid Boromir down to sleep and laid himself down next to Faramir. Carefully wrapping himself around him, trying to protect what he had already failed to protect once.

“Never again.”, the soft Elvish words an eternal promise.

Faramir opens his eyes and the first thing he sees is an arm. The soft morning light paints the grey tunic it is covered in a dark shade of pink. He stares at the long, elegant fingers that are laying on the grassy ground.

They could be his. But he is dead. Faramir frowns. They could be the other one’s. But he is dead too. Faramir frowns deeper. Why do I think he is dead too?

Very carefully Faramir turns his head to face whoever is behind him and is confronted with glowing beauty. Maybe I am the one who has died?

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