Faramir had known
the old wizard his whole life, but until this day had never looked upon
him in any way but as a wise, grandfatherly figure. Denethor had been
jealous of him, had accused Gandalf of stealing his younger son’s
love, as if he had not enough love in his heart for both a father and
a grandfather!
But Denethor had
shunned him, and though the young man had yearned for his father’s
love and approval, he had never received it. Now that the ruling steward
was dead and the station had come to Faramir, he found himself in great
need of direction and affection.
His dead brother
Boromir had loved him, but none other had ever touched his heart. After
Denethor’s death, Faramir found his great need driving him to
search for love, and at first, he thought the Lady Éowyn would be a
comfort to him. But Éowyn accompanied her brother back to Rohan and
did not return, so Faramir was left alone.
Gandalf found him
on the balcony outside his bedroom in the castle one day, gazing out
over the reconstruction of the nearly ruined city of Minas Tirith. The
old wizard laid a hand upon his shoulder, offered him an easy smile,
and Faramir slid comfortably beneath his arm into a companionable embrace.
“What is wrong,
Faramir?” Gandalf asked as he stroked the young steward’s
sandy-colored hair.
“I am lost,”
Faramir answered, twisting in the wizard’s arms to press his face
against the solid shoulder.
“No, Faramir,
you are not lost,” Gandalf assured him. “You are merely
misdirected.”
The younger man
calmed at the comfort as Gandalf’s strong hand caressed his back.
“I love you, Mithrandir,” he whispered.
The old wizard hugged
him more tightly. With a heavy sigh, he answered softly, “And
I love you, my Faramir.”
“Do you remember
that day long ago when you held me on your lap and consoled me when
I had been disciplined? Do you remember what you told me that day?”
Gandalf’s
eyes clouded in memory. “Of course I remember. It was not so long
ago to me. I told you I would always be there for you when you needed
me.”
“I need you
now,” Faramir said, his voice breaking.
Gandalf’s
hand cupped the back of his head. “And I am here,”
As Faramir drew
back slightly, two sets of tear-filled blue eyes met and held for the
space of twenty seconds before the young steward closed the distance
between their lips and kissed the wizard. Gandalf’s surprise hindered
his reaction, but he did not pull away. His mind processed quickly and
came to the conclusion that the deed was acceptable. Once that had been
settled, he pulled Faramir closer and deepened the kiss.
When their eyes
met again, the younger man was breathless. “Will you be with me
tonight, Mithrandir?”
Gandalf kissed him
again before his measured reply. “I will stay with you and hold
you tonight, but being with you is quite another matter. I choose not
to take advantage of your desperation until you are certain of your
heart. Love and sex are two completely different things, you know.”
With an acquiescent
nod, Faramir took his hand and led him to his bedroom. Being held in
Gandalf’s arms this night was a good beginning.
