Faramir Fiction Archive

Under the Most Beautiful Sun of Ithilien (NC-17)

Written by Dream in a Jar

22 December 2007 | 4990 words

Title: Under the Most Beautiful Sun of Ithilien
Author: Dream_in_a_jar
Beta: Iris
Pairing: Faramir/Rúmil
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: hint of sibling incest
Summary: Faramir met a mysterious elf in a misty land.
AN: Many thanks to Iris who put tons of efforts in editing my writing. She is more a co-author of this story by contributing brilliant ideas and suggestions.

Written for the 2007 Midwinter Swap.

Request by Kissa: I would like a story where Faramir rescues an elf, a small and frightened one. It could be Rúmil or Erestor. There should be some dark angsty parts to the fic, but the part about them falling for each other and getting together should be fluffy and sweet. And the elf should have his first time with Faramir! The ideal ending would be the happy couple going to live in lush Ithilien, with a little elfling on the way, much to both Faramir and the elf’s surprise. If the author who writes the story is adamantly against elves getting pregnant, I can live without the elfling; but please, make the story nice and fluffy! Thank you!

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Faramir knew there was no way out. And yet he was in no hurry to get himself out of this heavy fog-like nothingness. In fact, he was not sure whether there would be a way out of this, and either way that was one of the last thing in his mind right now. What was in his mind, and with a great deal of urgency at that, was how to find Boromir. All his knowledge told him he was on the border of “the veil”, which waved slightly in the breath of fate.

“Boromir, show thy self!”

His cry did not travel far in this thick nothingness. And despite his exhausting efforts of pushing forward, he suspected he was at the same spot.

“Boromir, please guide me to you.” This time he was certain the cry only echoed in his own head.

Just then, he sensed something moving behind the thick fog.

“Brother,” whispering, he reached out his hand toward the shadow of a slim figure, “guess they did not feed you well here.” He smiled when the fog became transparent between him and the shadow.

His smile froze on his face, when the foreign figure in front of him had a face that was also very foreign. Faramir was so captured by the vision of beauty in front of him, that for a blessed fleeting moment, he forgot the agony that had occupied his entire mind since his brother’s passing.

“Spirit of this land, will you please bring me to my brother?” Faramir asked, half dazed. The figure had a slender build that was very much like Faramir himself in his best days, though slightly taller. The figure had this amazingly long and straight light gold hair that reflected white in color in this fogy gray land. But what captured Faramir the most, were those eyes, those deep, sad, yet wise pools, looked straight into Faramir’s soul.

“I am here to meet with my brother, Boromir of Gondor. Will you bring me to him?” Faramir asked again, this time, the voice carried a little further, far enough to reach the spirit in front of him.

The beautiful head bowed low, with a gesture very similar to a deep sigh. The long hair waved with the slow motion, revealing a tip a pointed ear.

“You are an elf!” gasped Faramir, disappointment and excitement impossibly mixed together. Disappointed because it seemed to Faramir that he was in a wrong place to look for Boromir. Excited, because Faramir had always wanted to meet with elves. But now that he finally got to meet one, it felt like they were both in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

“Are you lost? Or am I in the wrong place?” Looking around and only to see more grayish nothingness, Faramir focused his eyes once again on the elf in front of him.

The wise eyes measured the human for a while, before the elf reached out his right hand, palm up, in an inviting gesture.

Touching the offered hand, Faramir put his own hand into the grip of a cool and calm sensation.

The elf closed his eyes, and Faramir followed.

Then, like falling into yet another dream, a vision slowly cleared out in front of Faramir.

He was still with the elf, standing in a clearing surrounded by a golden forest. The sky high and clear, blue and deep above their heads. The grass thick and fragrant, green and soft under the bare feet. Mingled with the soothing babbling of a river somewhere not far from the clearing, was some kind of humming more beautiful than any music Faramir had ever heard before.

As of the humming grew louder, three figures appeared at the edge of the woods, jumping, running, and laughing. They looked like young elflings, so young, so carefree, just like human boys in their early teens. It seemed the figures aged when they came nearer to where Faramir and the elf were standing.

The leading elf was holding a long bow in his hand with practiced ease. He became a fully-grown elf in front of Faramir’s eyes. He was the tallest and the most handsome one. His strong warrior like build reminded Faramir of Boromir.

The one in the middle was the gentlest one, with a slender figure, dreamy eyes; clutching a thick volume of a book in his hand. His long and pale golden hair flew freely in the air. And Faramir recognized him as the silent elf he had just met in the fog, where his double was still standing next to him, still holding his hand, quietly observing the three brothers.

The last one had his hair in a warrior’s braid, a sword in hand. He had a look of utter admiration in his eyes when he looked up at the two elves in front of him.

Suddenly, the vision changed again and the day became night, lit only by the faint lights of battlefield fire. The eldest elf, the one that had reminded him of Boromir, was now on the ground, alone, with a wound, fatal even for an elf, right across his heart. He lay on the ground, with eyes open wide, staring up at the starless night sky.

Faramir felt the stabbing pain in his own chest; the one had been there ever since he saw Boromir’s body in that elfin boat floating away from him. Feeling the raw pain radiating from the elf at his side, Faramir tightened his grip of the elf’s hand.

And then the light changed again, it was sunset now. The red gold sun bathed the golden forest in the far background. The two lone elves marching away from their home. The elf Faramir was still holding hands with, was one of them. No longer clutching a thick book, the elf was now holding a long bow.

The two elves hugged, the White Tower of Minas Tirith shone at the background. “We will meet again at the other side of the veil. We will hear your voice again there, which was lost the day we lost our brother.” the younger spoke determined.

Then, the brothers charged fearlessly onto the battle field.

Faramir looked on in horror when a black arrow flew towards the gentle elf. He wanted to shout in warning, but he could not make any sound out of his chest. With a jolt from the elf that was holding his hand, the elf in the vision fell to the ground.

The vision was fast fading now, but Faramir managed to catch a glimpse of the youngest elf, searching franticly on the Pelennor, at the opposite side of the aftermath of the battle field.

Faramir blinked couple of times, before he realized that he was now back to the nothingness of the gray land. The elf in front of him was looking at him with those wise and deep blue eyes, that were filled with such sadness and compassion. Then Faramir realized that his own ordeal had also been revealed to the elf.

All of a sudden, Faramir felt a kind of urgency, as if something was about to happen. Looking around, he noticed the thick gray fog was swirling quickly, like being disturbed by a great force that had not yet penetrated the thickness of the fog.

“Did you see it? It is changing.”

An arch of one elegant brow.

“Some force is trying to get through I think.”

An alarmed look on the elf’s face, eyes with incredulous expression.

The urgency returned with more force. And on top of that, Faramir was frantically trying to remember something very important that the elf should know, but apparently was oblivious to. Something at the end of the vision.

Just then, a piercing light sliced through the fog, like a spot light, highlighting Faramir’s whole body. A voice followed: “Follow the light Faramir, you are needed by your King.”

Feeling as if he was pulled to the light, Faramir managed to brush his fingers over the elf’s pale ones, lacing them with all his strength which burst forth from the light.

“Come with me, please!” Faramir yelled, trying all he might to keep hold of the elf’s hand. He felt reluctance and hesitancy from the elf, and the increasing pulling power from the light.

“He is looking for you, the younger one! I saw him!” Faramir could not image how he would choose if he were in the same situation. But he knew, he needed to help the elf leave this nothingness with him.

Like the chain attached to the anchor had been cut loose, Faramir felt the power that pinned him down was relieved, and he was floating toward the light. Holding the elf’s hand tightly was the last thing in Faramir’s mind before the piercing light cut into his mind and body like a knife. He felt vast pain all over his body, as his head cleared from the fog. But however unpleasant the feelings, they reminded him of being alive again.

And he opened his eyes, and he looked on a figure who bent over him; and a light of knowledge and love was kindled in his eyes, and he spoke softly. “My lord, you called me. I come. What does the king command?”

“Walk no more in the shadows, but awake” said the king. “You are weary. Rest a while, and be ready when I return.”

The retreating figure of the ranger king was replaced by healers busying themselves with the care for the fragile body of their new Steward. At the back of Faramir’s mind, there was again a feeling of urgency, that there was someone he was supposed to be looking for. Before he could recall further, a heated pain on his shoulder sent him to a blessed oblivion.

The next time Faramir awoke with blinding pain, he was alone in his room in the Houses of Healing. His vision was blurred, his body ached, but his head was very clear. He knew there were more truths in the disturbing dreams he had just woken from: the heat that burned dangerously close, the sad but finally sane gaze of his father looking back at him, the flaming figure flying off the keel from the 7th circle, the debate in the big hall for a final battle at the Black Gate, the march of the army of the West, the city that was now in his hand as the next Steward. And in all these dreams, there was someone else in the background, holding hands with Faramir.

Was it Boromir? Faramir could recall the sky blue eyes, the floating long golden hair.

Faramir looked around frantically, hoping to see the owner of those blue eyes standing by him, like the way he remembered Boromir would always show himself when Faramir needed him the most. But all he managed to see were the blurry shadows that danced against the candlelight.

Alone, all alone.

Great sadness washed over Faramir anew. He was so sure he could meet with Boromir in that gray land. He missed his brother, so much. Faramir remembered that the first time he felt this much unbearable pain from his first battle wound, Boromir was with him. Boromir washed him in the healing pool at this very healing house, his strong chest supporting Faramir’s back, his strong fingers gently massaging Faramir’s shortened hair. Butchered by the field healer”, as Boromir put it.

Closing his eyes, Faramir could almost feel Boromir’s presence, the feeling of calm and safe only his big brother could induce when Boromir was around. He could almost feel the cool fingers gently threading through his hair.

Faramir leaned into the touch, the cool air surrounding him brought a different kind of familiarity, a different memory. Like in a dream.

Slowly, Faramir opened his eyes. A slight figure very much like Faramir at his best days, but slightly taller, was hovering by Faramir’s bed. A pair of compassionate blue eyes came into sight, that looked right into Faramir’s soul.

Blue eyes, golden hair.

The elf from the dream.

The fingers that were soothingly threading through Faramir’s hair ceased their movement when the man and the elf locked eyes with each other.

It seemed at that moment, they connected, soul to soul. And everything else, stopped.

“You are real!” Faramir gasped.

A smile light up the face and chased away the sadness in the elf’s eyes.

Eyes searching over the elf’s body, dressed in Gondorian garb, as Faramir remembered horrified: “You were wounded… the arrow… the arrow hit your back!”

Faramir tried his best to move his good arm to try to touch the elf, to make sure he was real, and not another dream. The elf caught Faramir’s hand midair with both hands, and slightly turned his upper body to show he had no difficulties to move around.

“You are already healed.”

A nod.

“Your brother found you?”

Another nod, then followed by a very formal bow, seemed to express great gratitude.

With great relief, Faramir took his time to study the elf in front of him, remembering the dreams of their encounter in the gray land, and searched his memory for all he knew about elf kind.

“You are from Lórien,” Faramir stated finally.

A nod, with an approving smile landed on those perfectly curved lips.

Faramir suddenly felt thirsty. He licked his parched ones subconsciously, and was rewarded with a glass of cool water held in front of his face.

“Thank you.” After a collaborated effort of getting the water from the cup to Faramir’s mouth, Faramir panted, and was embarrassed by the display of his weakness. But the elf just smiled patiently at him.

“There were three of you. Your big brother was a great warrior, fought side by side with men to against the Dark Lord, many times during the past millennia. But the battle at Helm’s Deep was his last one. You have not spoken a single word since your brother’s…. passing.” Faramir completed in a low whisper that could only be heard by an elf.

The beautiful head in front of Faramir was bowing low, he could not see the elf’s face nor the agony in his eyes.

“You and your younger brother came to Gondor to help, to fight, to revenge, to seek death, and find the reunion that would come afterward.”

The elf raised his head in one movement; the tearful eyes bore into Faramir’s with fierce emotion. It said volumes of acknowledgement and understanding.

Faramir closed his own eyes when emotions washed over him ten fold. He knows I was doing the same, I was also seeking revenge, death, and hoped for a reunion with my loved ones in the other side of the veil.

Slender cool fingers laced into Faramir’s with the practiced familiarity. Faramir’s eyes remained closed, when another dream like vision slowly unfolding in front of his mind’s eye.

The beautiful forest of Ithilien glowed under the most beautiful sun Faramir had ever seen in his ranger’s life. A happy creek danced not far away. Faramir saw two figures sitting on a rock by the riverbank, two heads leaning together, reading something laid out on their laps. Then both turned their heads toward the creek.

Faramir entered his healing dreams with this peaceful vision.

All kinds of heroic stories and tales circulated the city of Minas Tirith, all about the battles during the siege of Gondor. People adored their own heroes and heroines from Gondor,but also those from Rohan, Dol Amroth, the Dúnedain of the North, and sang the songs of the Halflings, elves and dwarves.

So people were grateful for the sight of their beloved son of Húrin, returned from the land of death, walking side by side with a stunningly beautiful elf.

The inseparable pair were seen walking long hours alone the many gardens inand around the Houses of Healing, standing long hours at the walls of the city, facing the direction of Mount Doom.

Many evenings, the elf found Faramir fast asleep in his arms, just the way he fell asleep in the their shared visions, in which, they communicated in a way only understood by the two of them.

Then the day came when Faramir and the elf stood on the walls of the city, facing Mount Doom silently. They both saw the great darkness spiraled from the top of the Mountain and diminished into the sky. They both felt the vibration of the city walls when a great force trembled through the earth.

Faramir felt the light of his body and the light of his heart, the great relief and joy of hope. His heart beating madly in his chest, and he saw the same joy and hope in the elf’s huge blue eyes.

And as they looked at each other so, their lips met and touched. The gentle touching of the lips became a kiss, then the kiss deepened with more passion, and their bodies embraced tightly as one.

The whole city was cheering now after hearing the great news brought by the Eagle. Some smiled at the open display of affection of their new Steward with his new found friend.

Suddenly, the elf’s body went ridged in Faramir’s arms, like he was hit by another arrow. Then the body went limp and slowly collapsed to the ground. With only one good arm to maneuver, Faramir managed to break the fall, and eased them both on the ground.

“My dear one, what is the matter?”

The glassy eyes stared into the blue sky above them, seeing into a vision that Faramir could not follow.

Clutching his hands, Faramir was unprepared when he felt the pain slammed into his own heart. It was the ache from the broken heart of his beloved elf.

Some blurry pictures were fleeting through Faramir’s eyes: a troll running away from the Black Gate, a hobbit hopelessly trying to run away from the troll’s path, a flash of golden hair with the nimbleness only an elf could achieve, the hobbit was pushed out of the way, and then, the darkness came with the crashing pain.

And Faramir knew then, that his beloved elf had just lost his last brother.

And Faramir knew now, that this time, the elf would follow his brothers.

“Please, stay with me. Please, do not go where I cannot follow.” Faramir whispered into the elf’s ear, wishing for the tenth time that humans could also die from a broken heart. For his heart was slowly shattering into millions of pieces, and he was determined to go with the elf, when the elf faded with grief.

He saw the grief in the elf’s eyes, but he also saw the unspoken love in those eyes. “I love you too, my dear one, please stay for this love we shared. Please make this love strong enough for you to stay.”

The elf closed his eyes.

“Look at me, look at me, my dear one. Hold onto my love.” Faramir pleaded with broken voice.

Eyes opened, with tears that ran down freely.

Faramir knew what needed to be done. He read about the ways of elves, he remembered particularly the many tales of how bonded elf lovers saved each other with their undying love.

“Do you love me?”

Nod.

“Do you love me enough to bond with me?”

Though they never exchanged their feelings toward each other until this urgent moment, the trust in the elf’s eyes said volumes of his love toward this man.

Nod.

“Then bond with me at this very day. And bring me with you if our bond won’t be strong enough for you to remain in this world.”

The elf was trying to say something, but he was loosing his battle to remain focused, and it seemed he was in a great deal of pain. Holding his hand, Faramir was alarmed at how cold they were.

With the help of a guard and a healer, Faramir managed to take the elf back to the Houses of Healing, and locked themselves into one of the healing pools.

Quickly striped both of them, Faramir lowered the elf’s cold body into the warm pool, and joined the elf in the herb water by holding the elf carefully in his arms, Faramir’s chest against the elf’s smooth back.

A shiver ran through the elf’s lean body. The touch of their bodies seemed to help the elf to focus once again.

“Have you been with a man before?” Faramir asked gentle next to a pointed ear.

A slight wave of head.

“Have you been with a male before?” Faramir kissed gently of that pointed ear.

Waving his head absentmindedly, the elf snuggled deeper into Faramir’s embrace, seeking more skin contact with Faramir’s naked body beneath him. It seemed the touch of the bare skin already brought him energy.

Then the elf turned his head, looked into Faramir’s eyes with love and trust.

“We are going to bond with each other, with all the love we bear for each other, body to body, soul to soul.” Faramir declared the statement for both of them, looking into the blue eyes of his love.

And the elf sealed their vow with a kiss that as passionate as his weakening body could generate.

“And, I will be gentle.”

Faramir picked up one of the nearby jars aligned at the edge of the pool. Opening it, the soothing aroma of the balm was released and mingled with the steam floating in the air.

Having smeared a generous amount of the balm in his hands, Faramir readied himself to massage the pale body in front of him.

Faramir’s hands stopped in the midair, when the sight of the perfect body in his arms struck him: I am just a mere human, an unloved son, and a disappointing spare for a lost heir. What right have I to spoil such pure beauty of the First Born?

“You are more than you credit yourself, little brother. And never doubt a big brother’s judgment.” Boromir’s whisper could be felt so tenderly next to Faramir’s ear, Faramir couldn’t help to lean into the voice and seek the comfort of Boromir’s body.

Then, like being guided by the memory of Boromir’s hands moving over his chest, in this very pool, Faramir’s hands moved with easy and care, like an experience lover, with a healer’s touch.

The elf’s responsive body answered every single touch. Like the strings on an elegant instrument, vibrating with each movement of Faramir’s fingers. It seemed to Faramir that the elf had either never been touched before, or, had not been touched for a very, very long time.

Aroused by this thought, Faramir added more balm into his hands, and started to massage the inner thighs that opened to his touch so willingly.

Gently nudged the legs further apart, Faramir repositioned themselves by having the elf sitting on his lap, sideways, with the elf’s right shoulder against his chest.

Faramir massaged the elf’s now exposed buttocks, and brushed his fingers between the cheeks. A silent moan escaped from the elf’s chest, and the elf raised his head and kissed Faramir’s mouth with fierce passion. And Faramir became even harder.

Not wanting to delay any further, Faramir dipped his fingers into the jar, reached down the elf’s crack, only to found himself pausing at the entrance.

“Pursue your happiness, little brother, he will open for you. I am not the only brother here to help.” Boromir’s hand guided Faramir’s, and both Faramir and the elf tensed when the sleek finger passed the tight ring.

Seeming to be calmed by unseen comfort, the elf relaxed and slowly opened up. He looked up into Faramir eyes, seemed to say: “I will not break. Possess me!”

And Faramir worked in another finger, then a third one. Stretching gently and quickly with the hand of his good arm, and Faramir was awkwardly trying to prepare himself with the other.

The elf turned to face Faramir now, sitting on his lap, and closed his balm coated long fingers around Faramir’s throbbing arousal. Faramir threw his head back, closed his eyes, and gasped from the touch; he almost came from the sensation, combined with the thought of how it would feel to have those long, strong fingers working inside of him.

The elf captured Faramir’s exposed long neck, and licked the sensitive skin there with his nimble tongue.

Faramir opened his eyes, grabbed the elf’s hips, and aligned his arousal with the elf’s well-prepared entrance. Looking at each other for a brief moment to exchange the words only they understood, Faramir pushed in at the same time the elf pushed down.

The elf let out a sharp hiss, while a loud moan escaped Faramir’s mouth. So tempted to drive into the tight and virginal heat of the elf, Faramir tried to cling to the fact of what had brought them here for the bonding.

Trying to distract himself from pushing in and coming right then and there, Faramir massaged the lower back of the elf, and kissed him desperately.

After endless moments, the elf adjusted enough to go on, and he pushed all the way down with unexpected determination. The sudden move broke all Faramir’s reserve and he started to thrust uncontrollably into the elf, each push accompanied by a grunt.

Suddenly, when Faramir’s arousal brushed a place inside him, something snapped inside the elf’s body. The intense pleasure waved through his whole body, almost made him completely blind by the lights flashing in front of his eyes, again and again, when the head of Faramir’s arousal brushed over this never before known a spot inside him.

Just before he lost it, Faramir found his control again, and set a new rhythm with long, deep and quick thrust in, followed by a long, smooth and slow pulls out.

The elf’s pale and smooth body was now flushed and quivering. His sky blue eyes were dark and heavy with pleasure. Locking eyes with the elf, Faramir saw nothing but love, trust, and incredulous pleasure echoing his own.

Knowing they were both close to come, Faramir closed his slick fingers around the elf’s weeping member that bobbed between their bodies. The elf thrust into the grasp helplessly, causing him rocking against Faramir’s impossibly hard member.

The elf shuddered, went completely still, then cried out with an almost musical tone, when he came hard into Faramir’s hands.

Picking up the pace Faramir delivered few more quick thrust, and with a strangled cry, he came inside the elf’s clenching channel.

Before Faramir could catch up with his breath, he thought he saw there were lights surrounded their bodies, even lights in the water and above the pool. And beyond the light, three figures, hand in hand and smiling down indulgently, faded into the background.

Then he saw the glow from the elf’s body on top of Faramir’s.

Then, he heard a voice, so alien yet so sweet and familiar:

“Faramir, my love.”

Two months from that fateful day, Faramir walked into a clearing of the Ithilien forest. Alone with him, was the love of his life, the elf. Faramir was showing the lands of his princedom to his lover, and visiting their future residence that was being rebuilt.

They found the rock by the creek, and sat down on it, the way they remembered from one of their shared visions before.

“My dear Rúmil, I always wanted to know what distracted us from our reading.” Holding his love’s hands, Faramir inhaled the fragrance of his beloved forest, as it bathed under the brightest sun he had ever seen above the Ithilien woods. And he held the sight of his beautiful mate, glowing with love in front of him.

“Why don’t we find out, my dear Faramir?” Rúmil replied, with his soft musical tone, which Faramir knew from the moment Rúmil found his voice again, he could never grow tired of listening to.

Closing their eyes, they were back at the edge of the clearing, and they saw from afar, a man and an elf sitting on the same rock, looking at something on their laps. They both looked up, when a little boy, completely naked, dripping with water from the creek, ran toward them, waving a stick like a sword with one hand, and something shiny in the other. The little boy, with hair as gold as the sun, eyes as blue as a corn-flower, a feature of the perfect combination of both man and elf, shouted: “Dada and ada, look what I found!”

Opened his eyes, Faramir looked into the blushing face of his beloved Rúmil, and murmured gently: “He will need brothers to play with.”

And with that, they hugged each other lovingly, under the most beautiful sun of Ithilien.

The End.

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