Chapter One 15 Yavannië, Year 1
of the Fourth Age
The grey horse charged down the overgrown path, ignoring
the branches that blocked his way, heeding only the relentless urging
of his rider spurring him on. The man had ridden for five days almost
without stopping. Even so, he feared he would be too late. Already the
sun was directly overhead, casting its glittering light on the sparkling
waters of the Anduin.
A sharp twig caught his cheek, leaving a light trail of crimson
teardrops that slid down his face. The man paid no notice. He knew that
he was making so much noise that the elves would hear him even so far
from Lórien, but he did not care. He was tired, hungry, and aching
from long days in the saddle, but none of that mattered now.
The only thing that mattered was to see the elf. To look
him deep in the eyes and ask him why he had kept his terrible secret.
To tell him how much he hated him for it and how he could never bring
himself to trust him again. To curse him for his selfishness and his
arrogance, to wound him as he had been wounded with the agony of betrayal
and abandonment. But most of all, he wanted to beg him to change his
mind, to pledge all of his mortal love to this undying being if only
he would stay.
On the far banks of the Celebrant, Faramir drew up the reins.
He had reached Lórien at last.
Five days earlier…
Faramir woke first. It was still early, but the soft morning
light was creeping steadily into their bedchamber. In the shadows he
could just make out Aragorn's features. He rolled onto his side, resting
his chin in his hand to get a better view of the king.
Faramir never tired of looking at Aragorn. If anything, he
thought the king had grown more lovely in the two years since his coronation.
Mentally he traced his forehead, noting the faint lines that creased
his brow. Then down past dark eyebrows to the eyelids that looked so
peaceful in sleep, sheltered by long eyelashes. His nose, with the slight
bump on the end that rendered his face more beautiful in its imperfection.
The tiny dip of his philtrum, barely visible under his ever-scruffy
moustache, leading to rosy lips, still bruised from the hard kisses
of the night before.
It was hard to resist kissing those lips now, but the king
needed rest. Faramir forced his mind to other things. As they often
did, his thoughts drifted to Lórien and to Haldir, who claimed
the other half of his heart. In both body and temperament, the warden
of Ló rien could not be more different from the king. Aragorn
was dark and often tempestuous, and Faramir loved him for his passion.
By contrast, Haldir exuded calmness and peace, and a flawless beauty
that awed Faramir at the same time as it excited him. He smiled as he
thought of running his fingers through the elf’s golden hair,
long and as soft as silk, and of driving Haldir to ecstasy by gently
nipping at his ears. It had taken Faramir a long time to realise that
Haldir desired him equally in return, but with that realisation had
come a new self-confidence. Both Aragorn and Haldir were beautiful in
his eyes, and both had equal claim to his love.
Lost in his thoughts of the elf, Faramir did not at first
notice that Aragorn's eyes had opened, or that his lips had curled into
a smile. It was only when Aragorn rolled over towards him, wrapping
his arms around his waist and pulling him close, that he was roused
from his daydream.
"Good morning, my love," the king said huskily,
raising his lips to Faramir's.
He felt Aragorn already stiff against his hip. The king was
always insatiable in the mornings, and Faramir had no complaints. In
response he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue past lips that willingly
parted for him. He savoured the feel of the tongue intertwined with
his own and felt his own erection growing as Aragorn's shaft pressed
against his belly.
Faramir ran his hands along the curve of his lover's back,
feeling every twitch of his finely muscled body. An encouraging murmur
from the king encouraged him as he traced the sharp ridge of his hipbone.
Slowly his hands made their way forward, down the crease of his thigh,
finally coming to rest at his lover's balls. He gave them a gentle squeeze,
his fingers lightly teasing the base of Aragorn's hard length. At last
Faramir stroked the long shaft upwards, caressing the slit at the top
and teasing out a few drops of hot pre-cum.
Aragorn broke their kiss then. "Faramir, you're torturing
me," he moaned, burying his lips in his lover's neck. The younger
man gasped as a wet tongue licked the length of his jaw. The king's
hands slid down his chest, grazing his taut abdomen as he groped for
his cock, and Faramir rolled back slightly to give him better purchase.
As soon as the calloused hands touched him, he thrust hard into them.
The feeling was exquisite. He clutched Aragorn's cock then, stroking
him with a rhythmic intensity that matched the hands on his own body.
For several moments there was no sound but the moans of the two men.
Aragorn came first with a lusty cry that drove Faramir to orgasm a moment
later.
They lay together for a moment, revelling in the closeness
of each other's bodies. Finally Aragorn pulled himself up to a seating
position and looked down into the young man's shining eyes. "I
love you," he said.
"And I love you," Faramir replied, taking the king's
hand in his own and drawing his palm to his mouth for a kiss.
Aragorn's fingers stroked the man's dark beard as he tried
to remember what day it was. Finally it hit him.
"Won't your brother and his wife be here soon?"
Faramir groaned. "Aye," he replied. "They
will arrive before the noon meal. I should rise and make sure that everything
is prepared for them."
He moved to get out of bed, but was stopped by a hand on
his shoulder. He turned back, and Aragorn pulled his mouth to his lips.
After kissing him gently, the king said, "Beloved, do not worry
about your brother. He loves you dearly and he only wants what is best
for you. As we all do."
Faramir nodded, and got up to dress.
The servants' preparations had been flawless, as usual. Clean
sheets scented with lavender graced Boromir's old bed, a feminine touch
that would never have been allowed in his father's day. On the floor
beside the bed was a small cot for the steward's son. Elboron was already
a year old, and too big to sleep with his parents now that Éowyn
was pregnant with her second child. A pitcher of fresh water and fruit
lay on the table, and a lovely bouquet of bluebells stood in the window.
Faramir knew that Boromir would take no notice of these little details,
but that Éowyn would be pleased.
Faramir was feeling increasingly anxious about his brother's
visit. Although he loved Boromir dearly, he was getting tired of repeatedly
hearing that he needed to get married and have children. Faramir knew
that his brother meant well. Boromir had found great happiness as a
husband and a father, and he was very glad of that. The only problem
was that Boromir thought everyone should do the same now.
Faramir regretted that Boromir would never understand the
kind of love that he shared with Haldir and Aragorn. His brother was
a warrior. He had laid with men during wartime, the momentary release
found in his brothers-in-arms acceptable only in the face of imminent
death. These were quick trysts based on lust and need, not the connection
of souls that Faramir had found in his lovers. He had tried to explain
the difference to his brother, but to no avail. Boromir had not rejected
him as he had half-expected, but he did treat his relationships as temporary
aberrations. "When you find the perfect woman you will change your
tune, little brother," he had said knowingly. "There is nothing
better than a warm woman in your bed, and little ones at your feet."
This was Boromir's nature, he knew, and it had always been
so. As children, his older brother had led the way, and Faramir had
eagerly followed. Their father's praise, unequally bestowed on his eldest
son, confirmed that Boromir's decisions were correct, that his instincts
were keen, and that even his whims were wise. Boromir still tried to
persuade his younger brother to follow him in his choices today, as
if by his example of happiness he could help others.
Nonetheless, Faramir looked forward to seeing his brother
and his family. It had been several months since he had visited their
home in Emyn Arnen, and he missed Boromir's company. Underneath his
brother's sometimes overly forceful personality lay the most generous
heart that Faramir had ever known. He was also very fond of Éowyn.
She shared his own perceptiveness, and he thought she made a good match
for Boromir, balancing his headstrong, compassionate nature with her
thoughtfulness and tact.
After a final glance to ensure that everything was in order
for their guests, Faramir closed the door to Boromir's room. In the
corridor outside he met the queen and Lady Estë, their arms linked
as they strolled slowly to the reception hall. He bowed to both.
"Good morning, ladies. I trust you both slept well?"
Estë's fair face reddened at this. She was new to Minas
Tirith and still easily embarrassed by any passing reference to her
personal relations with the queen. Faramir liked the young elf very
much and for a moment wished that he hadn't made this comment, innocent
as it had been.
Then he noticed Arwen smiling adoringly at her friend. "Isn't
she pretty when she blushes?" she asked, before turning to him.
"Yes, we slept very well, thank you. Is everything prepared for
our steward's family?"
"Yes, my lady. They will not find King Elessar's hospitality
lacking in any way."
Arwen smiled warmly. "Thank you, Faramir." Taking
his arm, still holding Estë on her other side, they walked together
down the corridor to meet their guests.
As always, Boromir arrived like a hurricane. With no regard
for protocol, he greeted Faramir first by rushing up and throwing his
arms around him. Then he did the same to King Elessar. Faramir grinned
to see the flustered look on Aragorn's face as he was engulfed in his
brother's bear hug.
Afraid that Boromir would address the ladies in the same
manner, Faramir took his brother's arm as soon as he released the king.
Éowyn came up beside him, bestowing a broad smile on her brother-in-law
as he presented them to the queen.
Finally they stood before the queen's lady-in-waiting. "May
I present Lady Estë, who has only recently come to us from Mirkwood."
Boromir bowed his head at Arwen before addressing Estë.
"You are from Mirkwood? Are you perhaps kin to my brother's friend
Prince Legolas Greenleaf?"
Estë smiled gracefully. "Yes, my lord, I am his
cousin."
"I saw him not two weeks ago. He was in Ithilien with
some of the elves that are moving there. Perhaps they are your kinfolk
as well?"
"Yes, my lord, several of my relations have chosen to
remain here in Middle-earth instead of departing to the undying lands."
"And we are glad to have them. There are too few inhabitants
of Middle-earth already. I was sorry to hear that Lothlórien
will be abandoned soon as the Galadhrim travel west."
Faramir's heart stopped. "What did you say?"
"Yes, Legolas told me," Boromir continued, confused
by the look on his brother's face. "Your grandmother," nodding
to Arwen, "and the other elves are all sailing soon, if they haven't
already. Something about the age of magic ending or –"
His voice trailed off when he saw Faramir's unnatural pallor.
"What? What did I say?"
Faramir turned and fled the hall, tears blinding his eyes.
Aragorn raced after him.
He found the young man in their chamber. He was lying face
down on the bed, sobs racking his body. Aragorn laid down alongside
and drew the young man into his arms.
"Shhh, there, there, it's all right," he murmured.
Faramir's sobs did not abate, but his arms tightened around
the other man. Aragorn kissed his dark hair as he continued to whisper
comforting sounds to him.
"Did you know?" he heard Faramir ask in a choked
voice.
"No, of course not, darling, I had no idea," he
replied. "And I am not even sure if it is true or not."
"It is true."
Both men raised their heads at the sound of Arwen's voice.
She came and sat at the foot of their bed.
"My grandmother is indeed leaving Middle-earth. She
made this decision some years ago, after the war of the rings."
"Is Haldir going with her?" Faramir asked in a
small voice.
Arwen nodded. "He made me promise not to tell you. He
did not want to hurt you, he thought it would be better if you found
out later, after he left."
Faramir squeezed his eyes tightly shut, but it did no good.
His tears fell ceaselessly. "Have they already sailed?"
Arwen hesitated. She had not agreed with Haldir's decision
to keep this secret, but did not know if it was right to break her promise.
Finally the pain in Faramir's eyes moved her to speak. "They have
not left yet, but they will soon. It is a long journey from Lórien
to the Grey Havens, and they sail at the end of the month. Yet I believe
there is still time...."
A light shone in Faramir's eyes. "Aragorn, I have to
go –"
"Yes, yes, of course," Aragorn answered, leaping
out of bed. "You just pack what you will need. I will tell the
kitchen to prepare provisions for your journey, and get your horse ready.
And Arwen will tell your brother what has happened – or that something
has happened. Do not worry about a thing."
He pulled the younger man out of bed, hugging him close to
his chest. "My dearest Faramir, no matter what happens, please
remember that whatever Haldir did he did out of love for you. He would
not wish for you to be hurt."
Faramir nodded, his mind still reeling as the king and queen
left him standing alone in his room. For several moments he stood there,
frozen and in shock. Then he willed himself to move, forcing his body
to gather the few things he needed for the journey. His mind was unable
and unwilling to think about what to do after that.
Chapter Two 15 Yavannië,
Year 1 of the Fourth Age
Haldir knew the man was approaching even before keen-eared
Rúmil heard his mount on the Field of Celebrant. He dismissed
the other guards and stood alone on the riverbank, watching as the dappled
grey horse picked its way across the waters. He had known this moment
would come, despite the lengths he had gone to in order to prevent it.
And a part of him welcomed it.
It had been six months since the Lady Galadriel had asked
him to accompany her to the Undying Lands. Haldir well remembered that
moment. It had been the last day of the Third Age according to the Steward's
– or now the King's Reckoning. Night was falling, and the elf
knew the inhabitants of Minas Tirith would be celebrating in grand style.
He had attended many festivities in the White City since the end of
the war and knew that heroic speeches, ale, music, and fireworks would
help ring in what was now being called the Age of Men. Faramir and the
king were no doubt celebrating together tonight, watching the festivities
from atop the citadel. He sighed as he thought of the men he loved.
Lórien had been peaceful that night, and so quiet.
He had scarcely heard the Lady's footsteps as she glided to his side.
"Your thoughts are far away, Haldir."
"Yes, my Lady. They are with the men of Gondor."
"Your bonds with your friends are strong," she
said, her silken voice reflecting her deep understanding. Haldir had
always found her voice soothing, and was reminded once again of his
love for the Lady.
"Yes, my Lady, second only to my devotion to your service."
"Then what I have to ask may not be easy for you."
Haldir started at the sad tone in her voice as she continued, "The
Fourth Age has begun and Middle-earth has no more need for magic. The
time is fast approaching when I will pass into the undying lands. I
have long desired to return to Valinor and live by the sea. Yet leaving
Middle-earth is bittersweet. Long have I dwelt here, and many are my
memories of this world."
Her green eyes pierced his. "Your family waits for you
in Valinor, and your brothers will both accompany me. I hope that you
will choose to do so as well. Yet you have many memories here, and are
still making new ones. Will you make the journey with me?"
He had been taken aback. "I have always known that someday
I would sail to the west. I just did not think it would be so soon."
The Lady looked closely into Haldir's eyes and he knew she
was reading his thoughts. He felt himself relax as his memories flowed
into hers, as she sensed the presence of the two men that meant so much
to him. The King Elessar, with whom he had clashed bitterly, but whose
convictions had finally won a place in his heart. And of his dearest
Faramir, the stout-hearted man whose strength and beauty had changed
his ideas about the race of men, and brought him back to life.
Galadriel smiled kindly at him after reading these thoughts.
"Your heart is torn in two," she said. "There is still
much that binds you to this world. Therefore I give you the choice to
stay in Middle-earth, or to come with me. You may stay here, and find
happiness for a while. But remember, the lives of men are short. Those
whom you love will die in the end, and you will fade away from grief,
far from your loved ones. Or you may come with me to the green shores,
but I cannot promise that you will find contentment in leaving your
love behind."
"The lives of men are short," Haldir admitted,
"and I always knew that our time together was limited. I have never
regretted a moment that I spent with the two that I love. Yet I would
not stay here without my brothers, nor without your grace in Lórien."
Haldir drew a deep breath, bracing himself to say the words
he had to say. "My place is beside you, my Lady. I will accompany
you to the west."
Haldir had regretted those words many times in the months
since, but never more than now, as he watched his lover's face come
into focus. He flashed an anxious smile at the dark young man. It was
returned with a grim look and a hard-set jaw.
He is going to make this difficult, the elf thought
to himself.
As soon as his horse reached the shore, Faramir dismounted
and approached the elf. "I have heard rumours that you are leaving
Middle-earth?" he said stiffly.
Haldir nodded solemnly, matching the man's formal tone. "The
rumours are true, I fear."
"When do you leave?"
"Tonight at moonrise."
"Why didn't you tell me?" The words came out even
more angrily than Faramir had expected, the result of five days spent
alone deliberating the elf's decision.
The elf had been trying to answer that question for even
longer than that, but found himself unable to express it in words. He
finally said the only thing that made any sense. "I hate long goodbyes."
Faramir cocked his head, as if disarmed by this answer. Once
again, Haldir was entranced by his handsome features – the high
cheekbones, one of which now bore a long scratch from his reckless ride;
the quizzical expression that marred his brow when he was deep in thought;
the smouldering grey eyes that seemed to look directly into his soul.
And most of all, that full bottom lip that pouted so beautifully when
he was upset.
The man bit that lip now as he considered how to respond.
Finally he said defiantly, "Then do not say goodbye. Stay here
with me."
The scared, small voice reflected all the agony that Haldir
remembered from their first meeting, after he'd been rescued from Moria.
Waves of compassion washed over him as he gently replied, "You
know I cannot do that."
"I know no such thing," the man's voice cracked.
He had felt his resolve begin to waver the instant he saw the elf's
shining face, but it was impossible to hide his hurt. He cleared his
throat and tried again. "I do not accept it. I thought we would
be together forever."
Haldir smiled sadly. "Your idea of forever is very different
from mine, my dear."
"You could at least have said something, instead of
sneaking off like a frightened orc," Faramir said indignantly.
"You were in Minas Tirith not three months ago – you could
have said something then."
"I knew you would make it difficult." As you
have every right to, he added to himself. "I thought that,
as time passed, you would find it easier to accept that this is how
it must be. I am pledged to the Lady and must follow her across the
sea."
"You are also pledged to King Elessar, as you are to
me, and our bonds are just as strong."
"Surely you do not believe that," the elf answered.
"You, Faramir, who have more sense of duty than anyone I have ever
met – you know that if Aragorn commanded you to leave Minas Tirith,
you would, though it would break your heart."
The man's smoky eyes reflected that this was true. "Has
she commanded you thusly?" he asked in a small voice.
"It is my duty. I am the march warden of Lórien.
I must go where my Lady goes."
Teardrops were welling up in those eyes now. Haldir had not
seen these tears for several years,and hated himself now for being the
cause of them. He rushed to embrace the young man, and was surprised
when Faramir threw up his arms to stop him.
"No!" he shouted as he backed away from the elf.
"Faramir, my love, don't do this. We still have a few
hours together –" Haldir began, knowing even as he spoke
that this would anger the man further.
He was right. "A few hours?" Faramir shouted. "Is
that all I am to you, Haldir? Well, I'm certainly glad that I rode day
and night to get here, so you could have one last romp before you leave
Middle-earth. Something for you to remember in the Undying Lands."
Haldir blanched. He had never seen Faramir so furious. In
his most conciliatory tone he said, "That was not what I meant,
my love. I do not want to fight with you."
"What do you want to do, Haldir? Tell me, because I
do not understand what it is you want. You do not want to be honest
with me! You do not want to tell me that you're leaving forever or that
I will never see you again. What do you want?"
Haldir stood silently and listened as five days of pent-up
rage poured out of Faramir.
"I trusted you, Haldir. From the very first moment I
saw you, when hope had completely abandoned me, I trusted you. You were
everything to me, Haldir. You gave me a reason to live. You still do,"
he said sadly. Haldir started to move toward him again, but was stopped
by his flashing grey eyes. "But my love means nothing to you. How
could you betray me like this? It's not that you're leaving, it's that
you did not think enough of me to tell me."
"Faramir, I'm sorry –" Haldir began, but
Faramir interrupted.
"No, Haldir, you don't get to do this," he said,
shaking his head. "You don't get to be the comforter and make everything
all right. You've always done that, and I've always trusted you. It's
not going to work this time."
There were no tears in Faramir's eyes now, only a cold hardness
that broke Haldir's heart. He could do nothing but watch as the young
man mounted his steed and galloped back across the river.
Chapter Three
Haldir stumbled back to Caras Galadhon. He felt completely
numb, save for the raw ache in his heart.
He hates me....
Haldir had long debated whether to share his plans with Faramir.
He had even visited Minas Tirith at midsummer with every intention of
telling him. One moonlit evening he almost did. They were standing together
on the parapet of the citadel, looking out over Pelennor Fields and
the faraway mountains. The night sky was awash with stars. Haldir had
taken Faramir's hand and raised it to his lips, gently kissing his fingers
as he started to speak. He had stopped when he saw Faramir's face.
He had never seen his lover look so beautiful. A gentle breeze
caressed the soft ringlets of dark hair as the moon kissed his pale
face. Grey eyes brimming with love looked searchingly into his own.
Faramir looked truly happy. Haldir longed to unburden his heart but
could not destroy this image of perfect contentment. Instead he memorized
every detail of his lover's face in that moment, knowing that he would
call upon it again and again in the eternal days that stretched before
him.
The next day Haldir had left the White City, after securing
Arwen's promise that she would gently break the news to Faramir after
their ship had sailed.
He said I betrayed him....
When Haldir had imagined this last day in his mind, it had
been very different. In one version, only he would know that this day
had any special significance – Faramir would not discover his
departure until later. While he would naturally be upset, he would soon
come to realise that this was the best way. There would be no time for
regrets or recriminations.
Haldir was under no illusion that Faramir would not suffer
after he left Middle-earth. But he had found men to be extremely resilient,
and their memories to be short. The young man would grieve, but would
find comfort in Aragorn's arms. Aragorn too would recognise the wisdom
of this way, and would help bring Faramir around to understanding.
In time, both men would forget him, remembering only that
they had once loved an elf in a long-lost place called Lórien.
Even these memories would fade with time, and eventually they would
be lost along with every other trace of the men he loved.
In fact, Haldir fully expected to suffer more than they through
his endless days in Valinor thinking of his faraway loves.
He wouldn't even let me touch him....
Or else Faramir would somehow discover his secret and come
to Ló rien, as he had today. After begging him to stay, he would
finally accept that the elf had to go. There might be tears, but these
would be tempered with kisses. Their final parting would be bittersweet
and they would leave with heavy hearts. This would be hard on them both,
but with time they would heal and have one last loving memory for the
long years to come.
...a last romp for you to remember in the Undying Lands....
Haldir winced as he recalled the man's words. That's
not what I wanted, he told himself. But in truth, he knew it was.
He ached to hold the man one last time and kiss away the tears in eyes.
He well knew the taste of Faramir's teardrops and imagined their saltiness
on his tongue now. He closed his eyes as he pressed his palm to his
mouth, dreaming that it was Faramir's lips pressing down on his own.
For an instant he even smelled the man's musky scent....
Haldir forced himself to open his eyes. He knew he could
easily lose himself in this fantasy, and he could not allow himself
to do that – not yet.
He was right. I did betray him....
The bitter words had stung, but they were true. Haldir had
not trusted him to be able to accept his decision. In his heart, he
still thought of Faramir as the vulnerable young man they had rescued
from Moria. He had been broken then, abused and violated by the servants
of Saruman, and his suffering had elicited Haldir's pity. This had later
turned to respect as he saw Faramir battle and defeat his demons, but
the urge to protect him had never disappeared. And that was all that
he wanted to do now – to protect Faramir from pain, to keep him
from suffering.
But Haldir also knew he was protecting himself. He had made
his decision, and was committed to following it through. His brothers
needed him, and the Lady wished him to go with her. If he stayed in
Middle-earth he would be alone – oh, not at first, both men were
of Númenórean blood and would live for many years. But
not forever. Like all mortals they would age, and eventually die. Haldir
would be left to fade away of a broken heart, becoming a wasted vessel
bereft of love or purpose.
Yet, even knowing all that, he did not want Faramir causing
him to doubt himself. Haldir feared his resolve would crumble before
his questioning grey eyes. If the young man really begged him to stay,
he knew he would.
But there is little chance of that now, he thought
bitterly. Faramir hates me....
Lost in his thoughts, Haldir paid no heed to his surroundings.
He was surprised when he reached the southern gates to the city, and
saw Rúmil and Orophin waiting for him. He smiled wanly at them.
"Suilaid, brothers," he said in the strongest voice
he could muster.
He did not fool them for an instant. "You are returning
alone? Haldir, what is wrong?" Rúmil asked.
"Where is Faramir?" Orophin added anxiously.
Haldir fought to maintain his composure. It would do no good
to break down before his younger brothers. He had always tried to be
strong for them. Usually it was not this difficult. But even without
words, Haldir's pain was obvious. Moving as one, the brothers embraced
him. Entwined in their arms, the tall elf's tears began to flow freely.
"He hates me," he sobbed.
"No," Rúmil and Orophin said together as
they gently stroked their brother's back
"Faramir could never hate you," Orophin said.
"He would not have come to bid you farewell if he did,"
Rúmil added.
"He does," Haldir whispered, choking back his sobs.
"As he should. I – I have betrayed him!"
"Shhh, brother, do not speak so," Rúmil
said. "Come, sit here with us and tell us what has happened."
The brothers led Haldir to a towering mallorn-tree and sat
down on either side of him. Orophin found a clean cloth in his pack
and handed it to Haldir, who gratefully took it and wiped his eyes.
"Now tell us, Haldir, what has upset you so?" Rúmil
said.
"Faramir was not supposed to – I didn't want him
to – he shouldn't have –" Haldir knew he wasn't making
sense, and his words trailed off.
"What did he do, Haldir?" Rúmil asked forcefully.
"Has he hurt you in any way?"
Haldir shook his head sadly. "No, I have hurt him. I
– I didn't tell him."
Orophin's eyes narrowed. "You didn't tell him what,
brother?"
"That I was leaving."
"What do you mean? Of course he knew –" Orophin
started, but Haldir interrupted.
"No, I did not tell him. I tried but it – I thought
it would be better if – but he found out anyway and now he hates
me," Haldir's tears returned as he recalled the young man's angry
words.
A worried look flashed between the younger brothers as Haldir
wept. They had long wondered about his decision to leave Middle-earth
– or more importantly, to leave Faramir. The young man had brought
such happiness to their brother's life. But for the past six months
Haldir had calmly prepared for their departure, never displaying any
doubts about leaving. When they had asked about it, he had simply said
that his place was with the Lady, and with them. Rúmil and Orophin
had assumed that he had made his decision with the knowledge and support
of Faramir, and perhaps even of King Elessar.
Now their hearts ached as they realised the burdens he had
shouldered, guarding this secret from those he loved best. Rúmil
pulled his older brother closer so he could rest his head on his shoulder
as he sobbed, Orophin tenderly stroking his arms and murmuring softly
to him.
Haldir thought he would never stop weeping. For long minutes
he lay there in his brothers' arms, releasing all the pent-up feelings
he had carried alone for so long. Surely his heart was broken, but now
all he could feel was an emptiness inside, the tears that stung his
eyes, and his brothers' strong arms around him.
But finally his sobs did abate, and he lifted his head. "I
am sorry," he said, not sure to whom he addressed the words.
"Come now, brother," Rúmil said. "This
day is already too full of sorrow and there will be much time for mourning
later."
"Yes," Orophin added. "We should return to
the city. We have much to do before moonrise."
They both felt callous saying these words, instead wanting
to hold their brother and let him empty all his tears, but they knew
Haldir too well. Only putting his mind to other things would help dispel
his grief. And there were many things to keep him occupied. Together
the three elves walked back to Caras Galadhon to make the final preparations
for the journey.
The last sun set over Lórien in a tremendous blaze
of colour, as if tempting the Galadhrim to remain in Middle-earth if
only for the profusion of pinks, oranges, and deep reds that filled
the sky.
Intent on his last minute preparations, Haldir did not notice.
He had taken extra care that afternoon to ensure that everything they
were taking on their journey was carefully packed away, and that everything
to be left behind was in order. Caras Galadhon would live forever exactly
as he had left it tonight, and Haldir took great pride in knowing that
it would be perfect.
His exertions also kept his mind occupied, which was what
he needed tonight. So absorbed was he that he did not sense the Lady
Galadriel until she stood before him. Surprised, he looked up into her
emerald eyes and read a great concern there.
"Haldir, would you walk with me for a while?"
"Yes, my lady," he answered, following her graceful
steps up into the highest lookout talan from where they could see the
moon low in the eastern sky. Ithil, Haldir murmured to himself,
squinting back his tears as he heard Faramir's voice echoing the Westron
word.
"There is great sadness in your heart, my friend,"
Galadriel finally said. "This is a sad day for us all, for we all
leave behind much that is beautiful, but it should also be a day of
gladness and hope. You have none of that."
Haldir swallowed hard. He would not have Galadriel think
that his resolve had faltered. "I am a march warden of Lórien,
my Lady. My thoughts are burdened, it is true, but I am prepared to
leave." He knew his voice sounded less confident than it should.
"I am ready, my Lady," he repeated again.
"The road to the Grey Havens is long and we should depart
soon," the Lady answered. "Yet I would not have any of the
Galadhrim make this journey unless it is the greatest desire of their
heart. Tell me, Haldir, why do you wish to leave this land and those
you love?"
Had she asked why he wanted to go to the Undying Lands, or
why he wanted to continue in her service, Haldir could easily have answered.
His loyalty to his brothers and to Galadriel was unshakable. But with
Galadriel's question he was undone. His eyes brimming with unshed tears,
Haldir could only gaze into her face as she gently searched his mind.
Finally she took his hands in her own. Smiling tenderly,
she said, "I see that this is not your desire. Your time to pass
into the west has not yet come. There is no shame in that. I release
you from my service, and bequeath you to serve Celeborn in Imladris.
You may pass later, when you are ready."
"No, I can't," Haldir blurted out. "It is
too late for me here. I have nothing to stay for anymore, and that is
why my heart grieves. I have betrayed my love. Now I have nothing save
my family and you. Do not leave me here, I beg of you."
Sadness filled Galadriel's eyes as she replied, "You
are too full of grief, Haldir. The grey ships will not bear one with
such a heavy heart, for when you reach Valinor you would quickly fade
away. You cannot now pass with us."
Haldir felt the world crashing around him. Pulling away from
Galadriel, he leaned heavily on the talan's railing. He had not thought
that his heart could ache any more, but now he knew that that was only
the start of suffering.
He had no idea how much time had passed before he heard the
Lady's voice behind him. "I must leave you, Haldir, for the night
is quickly passing. But I would not leave you without hope, although
you now believe that there is none to be found. Listen carefully to
me. We will reach Imladris in two nights. If you can leave Middle-earth
freely, without sorrow, then join us there. But if you find you cannot
go yet, then stay with Celeborn and serve him well, as you have always
served me."
Haldir felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. "It is my
greatest wish that you find happiness, my dear friend." Then she
was gone.
The elf watched from his high perch as the city emptied.
The path to Rivendell became a river of shimmering light, and then too
soon the light was gone and Haldir was alone.
After racing back across the Celebrant and out of Haldir's
sight, Faramir eased his mount's pace. His body and soul were weary
and he could barely stay in the saddle. His horse gratefully slowed
to a trot as his rider nursed his wounded feelings.
Damn that arrogant elf!
Faramir was furious. He had ridden night and day to get here,
only to have Haldir act as if nothing was wrong – as if he was
travelling to Belfalas for a holiday, not leaving his life forever.
He had stood there so confidently, so assured that what he did was right
– not only for him and but also for everyone around him. This
had always been one of the things that Faramir loved about Haldir, why
he had so often turned to him for comfort, but now he hated it. He hated
the way the elf had stood there smiling as he had ridden up to him.
He hated how he had tried to soothe him, and how the elf had made him
feel as he tore himself from his arms. He hated how he had spoken of
duty, as if that was a reason to deny his love.
What was worse, Faramir did not know whether he hated the
elf more for leaving or for not telling him.
How could he leave me so easily?
Faramir had long battled inner demons that told him he was
unlovable. They were persistent beings, nurtured by his family and his
own excessive humility. He had always known that their father loved
his older brother more, and he could easily understand why. Boromir
was the shining son – bold and glorious, courageous and strong.
He curried favour with men for his skill as a warrior, and with women
for his handsome dark features.
As a child Faramir had worshipped his brother, just as all
the others did, and wanted to be just like him. As he grew older he
came to accept that he could never attain his skill or his beauty. His
talent lay in the keen insight and inner strength that he had inherited
from his father, tempered with Finduilas' gentleness. These traits were
never appreciated by Denethor, or fully understood by his brother, and
all his life Faramir had felt lacking.
Two years with Haldir and Aragorn had changed all that. Aragorn
valued his council and Faramir knew his intellect was finally useful.
His confidence had grown too through his relationship with the king.
Despite their differences, they were both men, both with frailties and
imperfections. Faramir cherished all of Aragorn's flaws, knowing that
they made him more than a king – they made him a man that he could
love.
His love for Haldir was entirely different. When he had first
set eyes on Haldir, Faramir thought him the most wondrous creature he
had ever seen. His ethereal beauty was deeply comforting after three
days of darkness in the caves, and Faramir was soothed by his serene
voice and placid movements. At times he seemed the only one that Faramir
could trust. Solace had slowly turned into love, but one that Faramir
believed would be ever unrequited. He had been amazed to find that Haldir
returned his feelings.
The elf's love had done so much for Faramir's confidence.
Haldir embodied physical perfection to Faramir – the strong, muscled
body, his fair, flawless skin, graceful features, and the greenest eyes
he had ever seen. Faramir knew that he should have felt repugnant beside
the elf, but for some reason he didn't. Haldir saw something in him
that was desirable, and Faramir had begun to believe that he really
was. More than that, Haldir had helped heal his broken spirit. At his
lowest point after Moria, when he wanted nothing more than to die, the
elf had lifted him up and convinced him that he deserved to live. And
again, Faramir had started to believe it was true.
Which was why Haldir's actions had wounded him so badly.
Why didn't he tell me? Was he lying to me all along?
Faramir felt his self-confidence waver. He was again tempted
to retreat into the dark thoughts that had haunted him even more since
Moria. These did not come in his father's words anymore, nor in the
form of his loved ones as they had with Gríma's potions. Now
his doubts assumed his own voice, shattering his precious peace that
had been so hard won. Usually he could resist them, but at times like
these the voices threatened to overwhelm him.
Why should he owe me any explanation at all? I should
have known that I was just a plaything for him. How could there ever
be real love between me and an elf? It's easy to see why he welcomed
the chance to escape from Middle-earth – and from me!
Teardrops poured down Faramir's face. When he brushed them
away, his rough leather glove caught the still raw cut on his cheek.
The stinging pain bringing him back to consciousness and he shook his
head violently to dispel these thoughts. He had long battled these voices
and knew that it required all his might to fight them. His strengths
were his intellect and his reason, and that was what he needed now.
There must be reason he didn't tell me.
Faramir frantically tried to remember their last meeting
in Minas Tirith. Haldir had been withdrawn, but had blamed it on the
long journey from Lórien. Other than that, he had been incredibly
loving, perhaps even more than usual. Faramir had thought it was because
they had not seen each other for some time, but now he realised the
truth. He knew even then, he whispered to himself. He knew
and he did not tell me.
The elf always wanted to protect him, he knew that. How he
had thought he could protect him from this, Faramir did not know. There
would be no way to hide the fact that he had gone to the Undying Lands.
And there would be no way that Faramir could pretend that being left
behind would not hurt.
But then he remembered Haldir saying that he would find this
easier to accept as time passed. Faramir smiled despite himself. Time
was Haldir's answer to everything. He had insisted that only time would
help heal his wounds from Moria. "The scars on your body will fade
first," Haldir had told him, "but there are deeper scars on
your soul that also need to heal."
And he had been right. It had taken a long while, but his
nightmares had all but disappeared. He had been terrified the first
time that the company met the Uruk-hai at Amon Hen, but he had overcome
his fear and defended the ringbearer with all his might. And he had
slowly learned to give and take pleasure from Aragorn and Haldir, disassociating
the brutalities in the mines from what the three of them did in the
name of love.
Still he should not have made this decision for me.
It was typical of Haldir's arrogance that he thought he knew
best. And he probably thought I would make a fuss about it,
Faramir admitted, which I did. But of course he should have
made a fuss about it. This was an irrevocable decision – they
would never see each other again.
The finality of this struck Faramir even harder than before.
He thought of Haldir waiting for him on the riverbank, and suddenly
the elf's confidence seemed less certain. And his smile – had
Faramir seen a tiny trace of doubt there? Was Haldir perhaps less sure
of his decision than he thought?
And what of the elf's offer to spend his last hours in Lórien
with him. Would he have been able to change his mind? Or might they
just have found comfort together one last time? Painful as that might
be, Faramir now realised that he wanted that more than anything in the
world. He suddenly felt like he had thrown away something even more
precious than the ring of power.
Faramir gazed up at the sun dipping below the Brown Lands.
The moon would rise soon, and the elves would make their way out of
Lórien. After that, Faramir knew there would be no way to find
them. He had ridden several hours from the forest, but still he had
to try. The man reined in his already exhausted steed and urged him
back to Lórien.
Chapter Four
The moon hung high overhead by the time Faramir reached Caras
Galadhon. A blanket of golden leaves muffled his mount's footsteps as
he rode through the deserted city. Everything was so quiet, the only
sound the rustling wind in the treetops.
Faramir's soul had long gone past anguish. Thoroughly exhausted,
he had kept pushing his horse onward even when he realised he would
not make it to Lórien in time. He had to see the city again,
to try to feel Haldir's presence one last time. But now that he was
here he could sense nothing. The elves had gone, and only this beautiful
shell remained.
He drew his weary horse up outside Haldir's pavilion and
dismounted. The room was bare – even the draperies and bedclothes
had been carefully packed away. Faramir ran his fingers along the polished
desk, slowly tracing the tiny scratches that Haldir had once touched.
Finally he sat down on the bed and imagined the room filled with the
elf's possessions – his luxurious robes hanging on the clothes
hooks, his books lined up neatly on the shelf, the tiny carving of Minas
Tirith that Faramir had given him resting on the bedside table.
Faramir hugged his arms tightly to his chest as he rolled
back onto the bed. Although the mattress was bare, it was still softer
than the finest silk sheets in Gondor. Here at last Faramir found the
presence of Haldir that he had sought. The smell of budding leaves washed
over him, the freshness of the elf's scent filling his senses and bringing
him back, even if just for a moment.
"Oh, Haldir," Faramir sighed, closing his eyes
as he inhaled deeply.
It felt strangely comforting to lie here in the elf's bed.
Wrapping his cloak around him, he fell into an exhausted sleep.
After the Galadhrim departed, Haldir could not bring himself
to stay in the city. It felt so empty, just as he did. He walked out
to the northern walls of the forest. The silence seemed more natural
here in this corner of Lórien, and he could at last assuage his
battered soul.
Galadriel's announcement had astounded him. For countless
centuries he had served the Lady and had thought he would always be
by her side. His duty to the Queen of Lórien had given him a
reason for living, a place in the world. He felt her rejection every
bit as keenly as he had felt Faramir's earlier in the day.
The Lady had said there was no shame in not going to the
Undying Lands. Yet there was shame in being relieved of his duties –
and all because he felt a guilt that he did not choose and could not
avert, try as he might. He had hurt Faramir, betraying his fragile trust,
and he could never forgive himself for that.
When Faramir had been rescued from the mines, he had trusted
no one but Haldir. Even Aragorn, who had been sorely smitten, had frightened
the young man in those early days. The elf was the one he had turned
to time and time again. And Haldir had felt blessed by that trust, although
he knew that he had done nothing to earn it other than to offer his
comfort and love. The grief that his decision had brought Faramir was
now being repaid by the Lady's pronouncement. Faramir could never trust
him again – he could not even bear to be touched by his hands
– so Haldir would stay in Middle-earth, alone. Perhaps there was
some justice in this after all. He would serve Lord Celeborn, never
again to involve himself in the lives of men, until he was ready to
pass into the Undying Lands. Perhaps his heavy heart would be lightened
by then, or perhaps he would simply fade away from weariness. He certainly
felt that weariness coming over him now.
So absorbed was the elf in his thoughts that he did not at
first notice the chill in the air, or the leaves on the ground. Finally
a gust of bitter wind cut through his cloak. He looked up at the stars,
seeing them for the first time through the bare twigs of the mallorn-trees.
Then he realised that the Lady's magic was gone; autumn had come at
last to Lórien. He hugged his cloak close as he made his way
through the carpet of fallen leaves back to Caras Galadhon.
As he reached the centre of the city, Haldir was startled
to see a grey horse grazing outside his pavilion. He quickened his pace,
almost stumbling in his haste to see what his heart most desired. And
there he was: the young dark-haired man, fast asleep in his bed.
Haldir was overcome with joy. Without a second thought he
leapt into bed beside Faramir, gathering him in his arms and lavishing
kisses on his sleeping face. "Melethen, my dearest!"
It only took a second for Faramir to wake up, and to return
the elf's kisses. "Haldir, I thought you'd left," he cried
out.
"Oh, my love, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Haldir
murmured as he tilted the man's head the better to devour his ruby lips.
They tasted so sweet, like fresh syrup, like ... well, like Faramir.
How could I have thought I could leave this, he wondered as
his tongue met the other's in a passionate dance. All the memories of
such kisses that Haldir had stored up flew from his mind, replaced by
the realness of this moment. Faramir's hands clutched both sides of
his face and he could feel his long fingers tangled in his hair. They
kissed until they both gasped for air.
Even as their lips parted, Faramir did not move his hands.
He held Haldir's face as he looked searchingly into his eyes. "I
thought I had lost you forever," he finally said. "I needed
to see you one last time."
"It was wrong of me not to tell you," the elf said.
"I should have trusted you – trusted myself." His hands
stroked Faramir's arms, needing to just be in contact with him, to reassure
himself that he was really there. "I'm sorry I hurt you."
"No," the young man said as he drew Haldir into
his arms. "You wanted to protect me. I'm sorry I didn't stay with
you. We could have had the day together before you left – "
Faramir pulled away as a look of confusion crossed his face. "Why
are you alone? Where is everyone else?"
"They have departed for the Grey Havens. I am staying
in Middle-earth," Haldir explained.
"You're staying here for me?" Faramir asked eagerly
as a child. Then he checked himself. This must have been a difficult
decision for the elf, and he did not want to be selfish no matter how
much he wanted him to stay. Half-dreading the answer, he asked, "Haldir,
do you want to leave Middle-earth? I mean, don't all elves want to leave?"
"Yes, we do – well, most of us do," Haldir
admitted. "And I want to go too." Suddenly Haldir felt the
weight of the day pressing down on him again. His emerald eyes turned
moist.
Faramir's heart broke to see his lover so forlorn. He drew
him close into his arms, rubbing his back gently as he planted soft
kisses on the elf's golden hair. "Oh, my dearest, I can't bear
to see you unhappy. I know that you have to leave. I just came back
to say goodbye. I was so stupid earlier. I couldn't have you go without
telling you how much I love you."
"No, you don't understand," Haldir said as tears
streamed down his face. "I cannot leave. The white ships will not
bear me now."
Faramir sat up. His fingertips wiped away the elf's tears
as he asked, "What do you mean? Have you become mortal like Arwen?"
Haldir shook his head. "No, I am not half-elven. I did
not make the choice to stay – it was made for me." He knew
that Faramir still did not understand, so he began again. "Elves
cannot die, save of injury or of grief. My sorrow over leaving you was
so great that Valinor will not receive me, so Galadriel released me
from her service."
"Oh, my beloved, what have I done?" Faramir asked
in an anguished voice. "I knew I had hurt you, but I never imagined
this. I understand now why you said nothing. How could I do this to
you? How could I be so selfish?"
Haldir leaned down to kiss away the tears that sprung up
in Faramir's grey eyes, gently brushing his lips over the dark eyelashes.
"No, my love," he whispered. "Do not blame yourself.
My bonds with Middle-earth are too strong. It is not my time to leave."
"Can you go later?" Faramir said, suddenly realising
that he knew painfully little about the ways of elves.
"Perhaps," Haldir said. "Until that day, I
will serve Lord Celeborn in Imladris. In fact, I must go there tomorrow
to begin my service, and to say goodbye to my brothers."
"I will go with you," Faramir said. Haldir started
to object, but Faramir put up his hand. "I almost lost you because
of my own stupidity; I cannot bear to let you out of my sight so soon."
Haldir smiled at that. "Very well, then we will travel
tomorrow. But not too early. Your horse looks almost as weary as you
do."
Faramir chuckled. Then he went quiet; Haldir could tell that
he wanted to ask something, but he seemed afraid.
"What is it, my dearest love?" Haldir finally asked.
Faramir frowned as he asked, "Will you stay here until
your bonds with Middle-earth have passed? Meaning when Aragorn and I
are dead?"
"Yes, my love," he nodded, cupping Faramir's chin
in his hand. "It was much more difficult to leave you than I ever
imagined. I do not think I could bear to attempt it again."
Faramir threw his arms around the elf and squeezed him tightly.
"Oh, Haldir, I feel terrible and wonderful at the same time. I
know you want to follow your brothers and Lady Galadriel. I cannot imagine
how much you will miss them. I love you so much, but I would gladly
let you go if it would ensure your happiness." He nuzzled into
the elf's hair, pressing hot lips against the graceful curve of his
neck. "Yet I will do all I can to ensure your happiness here with
me."
The kisses became gentle bites that slowly rambled up his
neck toward his ear. Faramir's teeth captured his lobe and suckled it,
causing Haldir to gasp in pleasure. Then a moist tongue snaked along
the outline of his ear all the way to the point. Haldir quivered as
tingles travelled up and down his spine. He could tell that his involuntary
movement caused Faramir to smile. Then the man redoubled his efforts,
wrapping his soft lips around the tips as sharp teeth bit into his flesh.
Haldir arched his back toward Faramir. He felt the man's erection against
his hip and tried to press harder against his body. But Faramir was
not ready for that yet. With agonizing slowness he worked his way back
down Haldir's ear, eliciting a mighty moan from the elf as his tongue
lapped the inside of the curve.
After completely covering his ear with kisses, Faramir continued
to roam down his face, his warm, moist mouth exploring the perfect line
of the elf's jaw, teasing him with light kisses on his lips before plunging
down into the space beneath his chin. Simultaneously his hands loosened
the lacings on the elf's tunic and pulled the loose cloth over his head.
Faramir smiled as he lowered Haldir onto his back and gazed
at the flawless upper body glowing in the moonlight. His lips sought
out his right nipple, his tongue caressing the areola, while his fingers
pinched and teased the other to attention. Sharp bites brought another
moan to Haldir's lips; his palms splayed across the bare mattress. Faramir
gave the same service to the other side of his body, leaving the elf
panting from this exquisite torture.
Then Faramir moved down along his lover's torso, tickling
his stomach with his wiry beard. His tongue dipped into his navel, kissing
and nipping the taut abdomen and just slightly brushing Haldir's erection
as he loosened his legging and slid them off. The elf bucked in anticipation,
but Faramir was not willing to offer that pleasure just yet. He repositioned
himself lower on the elf's now bare legs, stroking Haldir's slim hips
as his mouth unhurriedly explored first his left inner thigh, then his
right.
Haldir could only moan Faramir's name over and over as his
warm kisses neared their prize. At long last, when the elf thought he
could bear no more, he felt Faramir's lips pressing the head of his
erection, teasing out a pearly droplet with his tongue. Faramir lapped
it up greedily. Then warm lips surrounded Haldir's erection, sliding
with agonizing patience down his entire length. He arched forward to
push himself in Faramir's welcoming mouth, but the man's weight held
him in place. Faramir moaned, a deep throaty sound that Haldir felt
deep inside his cock.
"Faramir, love – please, Faramir!" he cried
out incoherently, wanting desperately for Faramir to quicken his pace
but at the same time never wanting this building intensity to end. The
man knew his body so well – knew exactly how fast to go to keep
the elf on the edge, knew exactly how to curl his long fingers under
his balls to drive him to the brink and then pull him back at the precise
moment.
"Please, Faramir!" Haldir moaned again. Finally
the man took pity on him and led him tumbling over into an ecstatic
explosion that obliterated all thoughts save one. "I love you,
Faramir," he said dreamily.
Faramir raised himself to lay atop Haldir's body. "I
love you too," he said, kissing him deeply.
He tugged the man's tunic above his head and tossed it onto
the floor. Faramir's cock was straining hard against the leggings he
still wore. While loosening the leggings, Haldir allowed his fingers
to stroke the bulging fabric. Faramir moaned loudly and hurriedly kicked
his pants off. "I want you," he said lustily. Haldir spread
his legs wide in invitation. "We have no oil," Faramir said.
"I don't want to hurt you –"
Haldir grabbed the man's right hand and drew it to his mouth.
Greedily he sucked his fingers, slathering them with his own juices
until they were slippery and ready to slide inside his tight entrance.
As Faramir stretched his muscled ring, Haldir took the man's erection
into his hand. A single touch brought forth enough fluid to lubricate
him well.
Haldir raised his hips, wrapping his legs around Faramir
as the man lifted him into place. He moaned as the thick cock breached
his still taut muscle. He could tell that Faramir was using a great
deal of restraint; he could see in his lusty eyes that he wanted more.
Haldir needed more as well. He pressed against the man, inviting him
to bury himself completely. He moaned again, from pure pleasure this
time, as Faramir slid deep inside him, the soft fuzz at the base of
the cock brushing against his balls.
Faramir was holding the small of Haldir's back in the crook
of his arm, allowing him to enter the elf at a deeper angle. Haldir
stroked his reborn erection with one hand, grasping the man's leg with
the other to afford greater friction. Faramir was no longer moving with
such excruciating patience. He had given full rein to his passion, emitting
throaty cries as he pounded fervently into the elf's welcoming body.
Now it was Faramir's turn to scream out Haldir's name as he felt the
elf's seed surge onto his stomach, inciting him to his own blessed release.
Faramir collapsed onto Haldir's chest, laying there even
after he had withdrawn his spent erection. The elf wrapped his arms
around him and held him tightly. Finally the man recovered enough to
move. He kissed Haldir's muscled chest before drawing himself up and
resting his head on the elf's shoulder. He knew it would only be a few
moments before he fell asleep, but he had to say something first.
Lifting his face up to look at Haldir, Faramir said, "You
do know that I need you, now and always?"
"And you know that I am yours, now and always,"
Haldir replied.
Faramir said nothing, but as he looked deep into the elf's
emerald eyes he knew there would no longer be any secrets between them.
Faramir woke first. It was still early, but the soft morning
light was creeping steadily into the pavilion. Soon they would ride
together to Rivendell, where Haldir would bid farewell to his brothers
and begin his service to Lord Celeborn. But they had plenty of time
before they had to depart. Now he wanted nothing more than to get a
better view of the elf. He rolled onto his side, resting his head in
his hand as he gazed at his lover.
Faramir never tired of looking at Haldir. If anything, he
had grown more beautiful in the two years since they had met. Mentally
he traced his broad forehead, the lovely golden hair pulled back from
his face by the tousled braids. Then down past heavy dark eyebrows that
gave the elf such a serious expression. His perfect straight nose and
the flawless skin, marred only by the tiny scar on his right cheek.
And finally to the rosy lips, still bruised from the hard kisses of
the night before.
It was hard to resist kissing those lips now. In fact, he
realised he couldn't. He has slept long enough, Faramir thought
as he reached for his lover.
THE END
