Faramir Fiction Archive

Waiting on the Moon (PG-13)

Written by Lucky

20 June 2009 | 7836 words

Chapter 3

One night away from Lothlórien and Faramir’s thoughts ever turn inwards toward Haldir. Since that single night of passion shared upon the hill Haldir has not spurned him, indeed he has courted him. Faramir is glad for the dark as he stands guard that none may see the blush upon his face when he thinks of his lover. Being courted, having a lover, words Faramir never thought to apply to himself. Yet that is what Haldir has done. When the courier arrives from Lothlórien it is rare that there is not some letter from Haldir. Though duty has called Haldir to other borders he has always taken the time to send something, even if it is a brief note, reminding Faramir that there is one to whom he is very special.

Denethor is aware of the letters almost from the beginning and Faramir has been forced to burn these missives after reading them. He is afraid that were Denethor to find out the truth, he would find a way to use Haldir against him.

The arguments between Denethor and himself are always most fierce after a letter has arrived. His father will trail a cold hand down his spine. “Come boy, there should be no secrets between father and son.”

Oddly enough these are the times that Faramir finds his backbone. Haldir’s words have opened a secret resource of strength and Faramir shoves his father away.

‘Tis none of your business, old man.”

Shrewdly Denethor eyes him for a moment. “None can do for you what I can do.”

Faramir relents, just a fraction. “Letters from a friend. Nothing more.”

“Royalty does not have friends,” Denethor scoffed.

But there is a dark gleam in Denethor’s eyes that Faramir does not trust, and since that time he has made alternate arrangements with the courier so that Denethor will be unable to pry further. But he still feeds each letter to the fire after reading it just to be on the safe side.

But no matter the content of each letter and no matter how Faramir replies, he is on a path set by his father. And while he wants badly to trust Haldir enough to tell him of his father’s manipulations, he is more worried that he will not be believed. Learned though he is at letters, there are no words he can think of to give vent to his worries and his feelings of uselessness after each confrontation and so he says nothing.

This will be Faramir’s last time to Lothlórien; he has set events into motion that will forever change his life. Certainly he will assassinate the King but by the time Boromir returns to Gondor, Denethor will be dead. As for himself, Faramir knows he will die for his actions against the King. But it seems a small price to pay to see the Steward’s line back on the throne and Boromir free of his father’s manipulations.

Faramir finishes his watch without incident. Even as he settles down to sleep all he can think of is the last time he will see Haldir and the tears he has kept close, never shedding once through all these years of difficulties at his father’s hands, flow freely and silently into his bedroll.

The next week is one of the best Faramir has ever experienced. He finds the thoughts of his impending death to be oddly liberating and it is he who seeks Haldir out at every free moment he has. From tree- lined glade to mossy river bank he gives all of himself to Haldir. His lover tries to question where this change has come from but Faramir kisses the questions away. Whispering his love over and over into a delicate ear or showing his love through selfless acts of pleasure. When they are finished and Haldir lays beside him, worn out from exertion, Faramir will allow himself to be pulled close. He cannot speak, for he does not know what to say. But Haldir knows that something is amiss for never has Faramir ever hinted of such longings before.

Gently Haldir smoothes the hair away from Faramir’s face. “Tell me what it is that the moon knows that I do not.”

Faramir takes Haldir’s hand in his own and begins kissing the palm. “There is nothing to tell.”

Enough of the week has gone by that Haldir knows the bloom of first coupling should have passed. But each time Faramir seeks him out there is a desperate urgency to his lovemaking and Haldir, who has never known other than a brief twinge of fear, is scared for the first time in his long life. His lover harbors secrets, he can feel the dark tales of despair that ride upon Faramir’s touch. But each time he proposes to ask, Faramir steals the words away with a whisper soft stroke of his hand, with the gentle suckling of his mouth. He parts his legs and invites Haldir into the one place where none have gone before. There is exquisite heat, velvet softness, and when Haldir hits the spot deep within Faramir all rational thought flees from Haldir’s mind save that of bringing pleasure to the man beneath him.

Panting as though he has run a great distance, Haldir falls back onto the bed. Faramir has done things to him this evening that Haldir has only heard whispers of and then a few more things that he has never encountered before.

Faramir flops down on the bed, worn to the bone. This is his last night to be alive and he wants to be sure that Haldir never forgets him. He doesn’t know why this is so important to him, being remembered for being in love is better than the memories of his actions that history will impose on him after this night he supposes.

Haldir reaches out and pulls Faramir close. Beneath his hand he can feel the tremors that run through his lover’s body. He goes to speak but before he can say anything Faramir raises up on one arm.

“Promise me that you will never forget me.”

Haldir has to hold back a laugh when he sees the look in Faramir’s eyes. This is no idle lover’s game, Faramir is deadly serious.

He turns Faramir away so that he may spoon his body close. He feels Faramir shaking and grabs a blanket pulling it up so that they are both covered. Faramir presses back into him but this isn’t about heat, it’s about comfort.

Haldir runs his hand over Faramir trying to find the one place to best offer solace through touch.

“What is wrong my love?”

Faramir gives a quick look over his shoulder before laying his head back down, “I… nothing, it’s… I have never been in love before.” The words come out sounding trite but there is truth to them and Faramir prays that Haldir will not look deeper for any meaning to his actions.

Haldir presses a kiss onto Faramir’s shoulder. “We have a very long time, there is no need for worry.”

Anything he says in reply will be a lie so Faramir holds his tongue. But he lays there in the safe haven of Haldir’s arms, knowing this is the last time he will ever be loved again and wanting so badly for it to never end. But each moment he waits he knows the parting will be even more difficult.

He listens as Haldir’s breathing changes to the slow easy cadence of reverie. Carefully he slips out of bed, dressing quickly in the half light of the moon. He pauses once at the door; looking back he sees nothing but peace and contentment in the face of his lover.

Haldir does not hear the soft footsteps across his floor, the creak of a door opening, or the last words that Faramir whispers to him.

“I love you.”

Haldir hears nothing until much later when someone runs, screaming, past his window.

“The king has been murdered!”

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