Faramir Fiction Archive

Waiting on the Moon (PG-13)

Written by Lucky

20 June 2009 | 7836 words

Chapter 2

Faramir feels Boromir’s eyes on him constantly during the many days trip it takes to reach Lothlorien from Gondor. Estel and the Queen take this trip yearly. It’s a chance for her to reconnect with her family and Estel to reinforce the ties between Gondor and Lothlorian that would keep both of their borders safe.

Boromir always rides along, eyes open for possible danger. For the past 5 years now Faramir has taken Denethor’s place. Denethor has claimed that the long trip leaves him sore and weary for many days. But Faramir knows that to be a lie. For in the past 5 years Denethor has waged a war against Faramir, trying to incite enough wrath in him so that he might take up arms and kill Estel. Political intrigue is nothing new to Faramir, or to Boromir for that matter. All royal families face constant plotting both from other lineages or the common people themselves.

His father likes to circle around him, like a hawk eyeing a tasty mouse from on high. “You are a good son.” And Faramir finds himself frozen to the spot as Denethor trails one finger across his shoulders. His father’s touch is ice cold, no matter the time of year, and now his father will lean in as if Faramir were a lover and not his child.

His breath is warmly obscene against Faramir’s ear. “Don’t you love me?”

In the beginning Faramir did love Denethor and wanted desperately to please him. But there is always a price for his father’s affection and as he has gotten older he has come to despise the man he has become at Denethor’s hands.

“Kill the king and I will put you on the throne.”

The first time Denethor had purred such words in his ears Faramir had yanked away, intending to leave the family’s private quarters and inform the king immediately. But there was a deceptive strength in Denethor and he pinned Faramir against the wall.

“Come boy, you know you want the throne.”

He leaned close and ran one hand through Faramir’s hair. “I couldn’t ask for a better son.”

Faramir was panting, his breath harsh, and he felt heat far below.

His father moved even closer so that now he had one leg between Faramir’s. This is how lovers would stand, not father and son. But Denethor was a master at manipulation and Faramir was trapped like a fly in amber.

“With you on the throne and me as your advisor we can guide Gondor once again into her full regal majesty and none shall dare threaten us again.” Denethor had all but purred those words, a cat facing a saucer full of cream.

It took two false starts but Faramir finally found his voice. “What of Boromir?”

Denethor brushed a hand across the front of Faramir’s tunic; his voice came out deceptively mild. “Your brother is a sword to be wielded until he is blunt. He is the instrument by which I will name you Steward to Gondor.”

Horrified, Faramir pushed his father away. That family could be used so callously, both his mind and his stomach churned. He made it two steps before falling to one knee, vomiting as he did so.

That was nigh on 3 years ago and since then the fights between Faramir and Denethor have become far more subtle, dangerous. Time and time again Faramir finds himself on the edge of blurting out the truth to Boromir. One time coming perilously close. To cover that blunder he’d taken a swing at Boromir, fully expecting his brother to retaliate in kind, perhaps beat him into oblivion and forgetfulness. But Boromir had gotten both arms around him, held him close, shielding him as best he could from fears that Faramir could not give voice to.

But all that is three days behind him now, three days down and four more till they reach Lothlorien. With each clop of a horse hoof Faramir finds his heart growing lighter. It will be nice to be among friends again. Five years ago Faramir made his first trip to the elven wood and it was there that he met the one person he has always considered to be a friend. Haldir, Captain of the Guard to the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn.

All of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel’s retinue had been there to receive the King and Queen of Gondor on the first day of their arrival. Faramir had been quite taken aback by the beauty of the elven beings he had seen before him. Perhaps because he was used to Queen Arwen he had never felt inferior. But these tall, willowy men and women all proudly arrayed in the colors of forest green, russet brown, fiery red, their hair, that glorious shade of autumn gold. Beside them Faramir had felt plain, drab.

But out of all these there was one to whom Faramir felt his eyes constantly drawn. Tall and fair of face, this elf radiated a calm self assurance. Twice he had leaned in to say a brief word to Lord Celeborn. There was something about him that even now, five years later, Faramir still could not pin down, something that told Faramir he would be safe having this elf as his friend.

They had met quite by accident, literally, two days later. Faramir was descending the last stair from the flet where he and Boromir had been stationed during their stay at Lothlorien, he had rounded the tree trunk and smacked into that same elf who was rounding the tree from the opposite direction.

“I’m… s-sorry.” Faramir had managed to stammer out.

“It’s not often a human sneaks up on an elf,” came the amused reply.

“I wasn’t sneaking, my brother, he… we’re… I…” Faramir subsided into silence.

Faramir had glimpsed up at that moment and was startled by the kindness he saw in the blue eyes of this elf. There was a deeper look that Faramir recognized from his brother Boromir as one who has seen both battle and death also.

Tentatively, he smiled. “I’m Faramir, son of the Steward of Gondor.”

“I am Haldir, Captain of the Guard.”

With those simple words of introduction a most unlikely friendship was forged.

Time flows differently inside the borders of Lothlorien, and later Faramir could never really be sure how much time he spent there in the Golden Wood. It seemed to flow fast enough when he had time to spend with Haldir. Sometimes Boromir also came along, but mostly it was just Haldir and himself. They roamed about from tree lined glade to mossy river bank, Haldir sharing the lore of his people, listening intently when Faramir recounted Gondor’s most glorious days of yore. For the first time he could ever recall Faramir experienced something he had never felt before, Faramir felt accepted for being who he really was and his heart beat faster whenever he spent time with Haldir.

On their last night in Lothlorien there was a grand banquet given in honor of Gondor’s King and Queen. Nothing had been spared. There were tables piled high with honeyed sweets, cheeses, venison and the special golden wine that only came from the vines in Lothlorien. There was song and laughter, stories were passed about and ties were once again reaffirmed between Gondor and Lothlorien.

The evening grew late and Faramir had yet to see any sign of Haldir. Worried that he might leave without being able to tell his friend goodbye, Faramir slipped from the great hall. Ghost-like he slipped from shadow to shade, blending with the night, but every place he checked, no Haldir.

The moon was reaching its apex as he topped the hill. Full and round, it bathed the world below it in a silvery glow and there, sitting before him, was his friend.

Haldir turned at his approach, “Ah, Faramir. You found me.”

There was a wistfulness in his voice that Faramir had never heard before and he halted a few steps away.

“You weren’t at the banquet, I had hoped to see you one last… time.” Faramir’s voice grew soft and he had to swallow before he could continue. “Did you not wish to be found?”

Haldir looked back at Faramir for a moment before returning his attention to the moon.

“Every full moon I come here.” He indicated with one hand for Faramir to come sit beside him.

“Why?”

“I’m waiting.”

Faramir had never seen Haldir this pensive before and it frightened him a bit. But there was no quaver in his voice, “For what?”

Softly Haldir began to chant, “Love is revealed, when the moon glows, time cannot dim it, like the death of the rose, the moon is the key, the moon knows.”

Faramir shot a startled look at Haldir, but all words were lost when Haldir took him in his arms, laid him back upon the soft grass and kissed him.

Heat surged through Faramir and, novice that he was to the art of passion, truth be known it was the first time he had ever been kissed. But Boromir used to say that some things you had to experience to learn and Faramir understood that saying for the first time.

Haldir had been gentle, kind and for the first time in his life Faramir had finally felt alive. Afterwards he’d laid there with Haldir, looking up at the night sky. He felt no guilt, no shame; Haldir had wanted nothing from him other than the pleasure of his company. But soon he would be departing back to Gondor and this lovely time would have to end.

The moon had finished its zenith across the night sky when Faramir began gathering his clothes up. Quickly he dressed against the morning chill.

Boromir had also never alluded to what one should say after a romantic encounter but Faramir was astute enough to know that “thanks” probably wouldn’t cut it either. Casting about he finally said the first innocuous thing that came to mind, “you never did tell me what you were waiting for.”

“Legend states that one who seeks their true love place a petition to the Goddess of the Moon.” Haldir stood and took Faramir into his arms, “I petitioned the Goddess and you arrived.” He placed a chaste kiss upon Faramir’s lips, “you are the one I have been waiting for.”

Startled Faramir replied, “I can’t… it’s..it’s not that simple.”

Haldir smiled, “it’s never simple. But we are destined to be together.”

Faramir pulled away, “you don’t understand and I can’t explain, but there are far greater stakes here than your feelings for me.”

Haldir’s face turned serious but before he could say anything Faramir had stepped out of reach, “or my feelings for you. I’m sorry.”

Faramir turned and walked away, he didn’t know how to tell Haldir the truth. Faramir’s destiny was to kill the King and help Boromir ascend the throne and in doing so to bring about his own demise. Death from the hangman’s noose was the only allowable outcome for the path that Faramir had put himself on.

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