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Chapter 1 - Second
time’s the charm
The king stopped by the Houses of Healing to check in on his cherished
patients. Éowyn was recovering faster than Faramir; she was sitting
up taking nutritious broths. Faramir however, continued to linger on
the edge of fever. The danger from the shadow wound had been removed.
Aragorn remembered the experience, how it drained him to bring Faramir
back to the light. He knew he succeeded when Faramir opened his eyes
briefly saying, “My lord…my love and life belong to you.”
Aragorn smiled at the memory, the words coming from the young man’s
fevered condition. On the healer’s cot Faramir drifted back to
sleep. His face relaxed, his handsome features taking on a look of innocence;
it took Aragorn’s breath away. Aragorn felt his heart swell with
love. He had found a companion in his new life as King, perhaps more
than a companion. What path their relationship took would have to wait
until his Steward was in better health.
That was a week ago, now as he stopped to talk to a healer he asked
about Faramir’s condition. What was the reason for the slowness
of his recovery? The healers were not quick to offer suggestions. Except
Ioreth, who was always free with her opinions and proclamations whether
one asked for them or not. Aragorn knew, mingled with unbidden opinions,
the knowledge she possessed was undeniably sound.
She hesitated uncharacteristically, in a few moments her nature got
the better of her and she blurted out, “Sire you have cured him
of the shadow’s touch, but they were not the only wounds the young
lord carries. Look” and she pointed to Faramir’s back for
he was being washed as he lay sleeping under the influence of the slumber
potions. Aragorn’s eyes widened as he saw what looked like whip
marks, scars healed but still visible.
“What happened? Was he captured, tortured during the war?”
“Nay milord it is a legacy the former Steward left the young lord.
Those scars are from the young one’s early years; his father was
ruthless in his discipline; Boromir suffered less, but both felt Lord
Denethor’s hand.”
Aragorn stared in amazement, from what he had learned from Gandalf and
Pippin he assumed it was Boromir’s death that had turned Denethor
against his younger son. He realized the roots of the former Steward’s
dark heart were much deeper. He spoke his thoughts,
“Denethor did this to his own son?”
“Yes my lord and more, before young Boromir finally put a stop
to it. It’s when those scars were made. Stepping between his father
and brother during one of the Stewards lessons, he begged to take the
blows for his brother. The Steward himself saw the gravity of his actions
and stopped the whip. With his biting tongue he continued hurting our
Faramir to his last days. What Lord Denethor was trying to break in
Faramir no one can say. The whole city knew of Faramir’s treatment
at the hands of his father; it made us love him all the more. Meaning
no disrespect to our late Lord Boromir, but Faramir is the favored child
of Gondor”
For the second time in their conversation Ioreth was out of character
as she wiped tears from her eyes. Aragorn realized the depth of history
this woman possessed. She regained her composure as Faramir’s
eyes opened a glazed look of sleep in them. Recognizing his new king
he made to leave his bed. Ioreth snapped back into character scolding
gently asking what he thought he was doing. Faramir mumbled something
“My king is here, my love is here… I must serve my king…”
He fell back onto the cot caught in the arms of an attendant who gently
set him down.
“He is like this my lord when he starts to waken his only words
are of you. I would say he has found a reason to live. Perhaps if you
laid your healing hands on him once more the old wounds would start
to heal.”
Aragorn was silent for a moment, finally
“I agree with you Ioreth. I will do what I can when he is rested
a few hours more. I will return before sunset. I will need a private
room this time, to protect my Steward’s privacy.”
“Then he is to be the new Steward! Praise the Valar a new dawn
is breaking over Gondor the King has returned, a new age begins. ”
Aragorn’s eyes widened at this proclamation, smiling at the old
healer who was back in character.
Aragorn returned as promised. The healers had arranged a room looking
out on a glorious sunset over the city. Faramir lay quiet in bed, arranged
around him were towels and basins filled with scented water. The healers
were asking to stay when Gandalf entered the room. They realized the
king would not be alone in his task. Gandalf gently ushered them out
the door, loudly setting the latch. Before doing so he asked the healers
to return in three hours, his manner broached no argument. Aragorn wondered
how much Gandalf knew of Faramir’s youth. As if reading his mind
Gandalf said,
” Faramir is possessed of a disposition easy to love. He gives
his love generously. While young he suffered greatly at the hands of
his father with only his brother to protect and love him. I offered
what comfort I could when I would visit the city but even this became
a reason for his father to beat him. Denethor resented that Faramir
was a gifted student and disapproved of my willingness to be his teacher.”
Aragorn did not understand. How could a father so mistreat his son?
“Gandalf what reason could Denethor have for treating his own
son in such a manner? How can I heal wounds that are so deep?”
Gandalf’s eyes focused on Faramir, saying softly
”Faramir’s gift is his body. He has keen senses of perception
and touch. Other abilities he has developed through hard work and training.
He is his own taskmaster when it comes to self discipline and learning.
It has served him well though. He survived the torment his father inflicted
upon him. And he did it with his ability to love intact. He has used
his gifts to learn the arts of war and love. He discovered as a youth
how to apply them in love play. His father thought it a weakness, beating
him savagely for it. Denethor often accused him of working to corrupt
Boromir. In fact, it was Boromir who gave Faramir his first lessons
in love. Faramir never spoke of it, even when he was beaten for it.
It was Boromir who confessed this to me when he sought my counsel, saying
it was his fault his brother was so ill treated... Aragorn, the whip,
the beatings are nothing compared to the wounds left on his spirit.
It is those wounds you can heal.”
“But how do I begin?”
Aragorn looked down at the sleeping man feeling his heart ache. Faramir
slept serenely, a frown formed on his face, a grimace, and then he would
moan as if in pain, slowly becoming quiet again.
“He seems to be in so much pain. I look at him Gandalf and my
heart breaks.”
“You also feel love for him”
Gandalf said it as a statement of fact, “He will be a jewel in
the crown of the King for all you need do Aragorn…is love him.
Lay your hands upon him, he will waken, ask of him what you will, he
will obey.”
After a moment of silence Gandalf whispered, “You are both dear
to me, I am glad you will be in each others company through the long
years of your lives.”
Aragorn gave Gandalf a puzzled look. Through years of friendship it
meant Aragorn did not fully understand. Understanding was not needed,
faith in Gandalf’s counsel sufficed. He sat on the bed by his
Steward touching the young mans brow. His hands caressed gently the
temples and cheeks. He traced Faramir’s lips with his fingers.
He placed his hands on the patient’s shoulders. He leaned over
Faramir’s face speaking softly, almost whispered,
“Awaken my Steward the King has need of you. The King would share
his love.” Faramir’s eyes opened, focusing slowly. He looked
into Aragorn’s eyes, “My lord, I have been walking through
shadow and pain. Your words have brought me back to life, to love. I
am yours to command, ask what you will of me… I love you.”
With unexpected strength he drew Aragorn down into a passionate kiss.
Faramir’s lips were intoxicating. Aragorn lost his heart. Given
the circumstances he thought it amazing he would respond so strongly,
yet…he was aroused… intensely aroused. His excitement pressed
against the fabric of his trousers. Aragorn ran his hands over his young
Stewards body. Faramir moaned gently. Aragorn continued. He ran his
hands over the face glowing in the light of the setting sun. He slipped
them under the loose garments. He relished the exploration. Aragorn
forgot the world; only the warm body beneath his hands was real. He
leaned into another kiss moving slowly to kiss the strong slender neck.
He felt a madness sweep over him as he tore at Faramir’s clothes.
Exposing the bare chest he covered the nipples one at a time with kisses.
Leaving red marks on the pale flesh. Aragorn nibbled at the belly, sides,
caressing the hips. He found there was no undergarment just a thin cloth
covering his lover. He pulled it off exposing Faramir’s arousal.
In one swift move Aragorn engulfed it with his mouth. He luxuriated
in the sounds coming from Faramir. His thoughts were fixed on drawing
the sweetest pleasure from his love. He knew his aggressive attack would
bring Faramir to completion quickly. He felt the tension build through
Faramir’s body. He continued to roam the slender torso with his
hands. He could not get enough of him; his hands were soaking in the
texture of his skin. A cry escaped from Faramir’s lips. As Faramir
released, Aragorn’s arousal peaked as well; he felt the wetness
spread out on his trousers. After breathless minutes, Aragorn moved
slowly to Faramir’s face, “Sleep now my love, when you wake
you will be ready to face the world.” Faramir melted into the
cushioned bed breathing slowly, deep in blissful sleep.
“Aragorn…how do you feel?”
Gandalf was on the other side of the bed. Aragorn looked up with a start,
as if waking from a dream.
“Gandalf… I…I…feel…happy… strangely
happy… It is as if a wave of spring rain just washed over me removing
a layer of gloom I did not know was there. You saw?” embarrassment
edging into his voice
Gandalf fixed his eyes on Aragorn,
“It has been three hours since you laid hands on Faramir. In that
time I have seen both of you smile. At times breathing heavily, no words
spoken or movements made…I was beginning to worry... In my heart
I felt you touch a wound in Faramir that has long awaited the return
of the king. I believe your task has begun well.”
“Three hours, Gandalf how can that be I…” he looked
down at his clothes they were clean and unruffled, Faramir still wore
his sleeping garments nothing was torn.
“We spoke to each other, we shared…an intimate moment…are
you telling me it didn’t happen?”
“Mysterious indeed is the healing power of the king. Even more
is the bond between Steward and King, you have done well today. More
I cannot say for it is beyond my power to answer.”
Aragorn sighed at the cryptic words. Gandalf smiled, he loved to see
that look on Aragorn’s face.
“Come now, let us leave the Steward of Gondor to his rest, tomorrow
he begins life anew.”
As Gandalf expected the healers began to arrive. He smiled as he asked
them to tend to the Steward,
“He will be hungry when he awakens.”
It was dawn when Faramir awoke. He seemed a new man, and a hungry one.
Several plates of food were brought to him. He ate with enthusiasm,
surprising his healers. When noon came he dressed and asked to be released
from the Houses of Healing. He had duties to perform he told them, for
the king of Gondor. It was then he met Éowyn, she was also petitioning
for release from the caregivers. They joined in a common cause persuading
the healers to set them free.
Chapter 2 - An invitation to dinner
Two weeks passed since his release from the Houses of Healing. Faramir
felt uncomfortable. He was sure of the cause; it was all the attention
the King directed his way. Faramir had trouble accepting compliments.
The Valar were devising new tests for him. The King praised him at every
opportunity and to Faramir’s considerable discomfort, in public.
He realized it was foolish to think this way; he had never gotten a
kind word from his father. He’d learned to expect nothing but
criticism. How he had hungered for a kind word or gesture from the old
bastard. Now he was awash in praise. He wanted to run away. Not for
the first time he thought himself a fool, but a happy fool. He smiled
at these silly musings. He recalled recent events which had brought
him to this predicament. The coronation of the King happened quickly.
The king settled into reviewing the affairs of his new kingdom and preparing
for his marriage to the Lady Arwen. He had officially proclaimed him
Steward of Gondor, wanting him by his side at all times during the first
week. The king was a quick study relying on Faramir for the intricacies
of court and council protocols. Faramir was no stranger to this world.
He had grown up in the midst of it. The new duties made him long for
the simpler days of camping on hard ground with his men, tracking Orcs
or building up Gondor’s defenses. He missed the chance to spend
long hours in the library. As the marriage date approached the king
gave over more of his day to day duties to him, checking in with him
on a regular basis. Faramir grew accustomed to the king’s unannounced
arrivals. Always the king would put his arm around him. Softly giving
him thanks for taking on so much work so soon after his recovery. Invariably
he asked the same question.
“What do you remember of the second time I laid hands on you?”
Faramir blushed at the question, always responding with a short, “I
remember some things but nothing is clear, mostly it’s feelings.”
The king seemed disappointed.
“I will work to remember more my lord.”
“No my friend, let it come to you naturally there is no need to
force anything. I believe when you are ready to remember you will. I
only ask that you share your thoughts with me. I ask this as a friend
not as your king. Will you think of me as a friend?”
Faramir thrilled at this question, “Yes of course my lord, you
honor me. You have given me so much.”
Faramir assumed the king wanted him as Steward and expected a formal
relationship. Faramir planned to be as invisible as possible, efficiently
executing the duties of Steward; working to stay out of the Kings way.
A personal relationship had never occurred to him. This new development
made things much more difficult. He spent the rest of the day unable
to concentrate; he missed the evening meal. When he realized the time,
he rushed to extend his apologies to the king. It was the fourth time
this week; his father would have whipped him for this breach of protocol.
Aragorn merely asked him not to work so hard. He bade him to eat even
though most of the dinner guests were preparing to leave. Faramir thanked
the king and future queen for their understanding. He retreated to the
kitchen instead, got an apple and retired to bed. In his desire to get
his work done he had been missing meals. He knew he was losing weight.
It seemed he lost weight if he missed even one meal. It had always been
the case where he and food were concerned. He swore he’d remedy
the situation starting in the morning. The morning meal seemed to him
the best one of the day. As a matter of habit he did not care for more
than small snacks through the day. Dinner had always been a source of
pain.
Next morning the king made his usual unannounced visit asking to speak
to him privately. Aragorn seemed nervous, immediately Faramir worried.
“My lord is something wrong?”
Aragorn looked at Faramir a moment longer than was comfortable before
saying, “Faramir I am worried about you. I realize you have taken
on much after your release from the Houses of Healing. I promise I will
take much off your shoulders after the wedding. I am distressed by your
loss of weight. Arwen has asked me to make sure you dine with us tonight.
She can be quite persuasive.”
“I am sorry to be the cause of concern my lord; I will eat more
if it pleases you.”
Aragorn smiled,
“Faramir it’s not an order. We are opening our hearts to
you, won’t you let us in.”
Faramir’s eyes widened feeling overwhelmed, bowing his head to
avoid eye contact,
“My lord, I don’t know what to say, I…”
He did not trust his voice to not break so he stopped speaking. Noticing
the pained expression, Aragorn tried to alleviate the situation,
“It is settled then, you promise to join us for dinner tonight.
It will be informal. The fellowship friends will be in attendance. I
want to see them as often as possible now that the shadow has passed.
That includes you my dear Steward. I’ll see you tonight…oh
and please…call me Aragorn when we’re alone.”
Faramir stood looking at the door after the king left. He was in love,
he knew it the moment he opened his eyes in the Houses of Healing. He
knew it when he awoke from a blissful dream the second time the king
had come to heal him. The dream he could not recall completely, but
he felt Aragorn was in it. He would do anything for Aragorn. His duty
he thought was to remain aloof, not cause trouble. He could not bear
to think how the king would suffer if he knew his new Steward was stricken
with love for him. The embarrassment alone would hurt their relationship
he was certain of it. I am doing this for the good of my beloved. I
will remain in control, I will remain in control. He thought if I repeat
that often enough, I’m sure to…
The thought did not finish forming; the petitioners were already at
the door. The day had begun.
The last appointment was with an ambassador from an eastern province.
Faramir had spent some time there years ago. He had learned the language.
The ambassador was honored to be addressed in his native tongue. He
commented on the lack of accent.
“Lord Faramir you speak my language as if you were born to it.”
“Thank you ambassador, I have always enjoyed learning new languages,
I even taught myself Sindarin to be able to read some texts from our
library...”
“A language of the Elves is it not?”
“Yes that’s...Elves.”
Elves, the word brought back the morning’s conversation. Realizing
the time he cursed himself.
“Ambassador I regret that I have detained you so long it is past
the dinner hour. Shall we meet again before you leave?”
“I look forward to it, thank you, Lord Faramir.”
Faramir rushed to his quarters to change clothes. Even if I ran, I’m
still late. I made a promise to Aragorn…the king he corrected
himself. It’s been a long day. He was dressing when he heard the
tear of his shirt. Damn, looking for another one; of course this happens
now. Maybe they won’t notice me when I walk in; a tap at the door
and a soft voice saying
“Lord Faramir the king is asking for you.”
He yelled, “I’m on my way.”
The dinner party was small; Aragorn and Arwen sat at the head of the
table, on the queen’s side were Éowyn, Legolas and Gimli while
on the kings side was an empty seat for the wayward Steward. Gandalf,
Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin made up the rest of the party. The conversation
was lively, Legolas and Gimli were bantering playfully bringing Éowyn
to tears of laughter. Merry and Pippin were debating the wisdom of drinking
wine instead of beer this night. Frodo was quiet as usual, yet even
he had a twinkle in his eyes. The conversation turned to the missing
member. The king learned Faramir was on his way. Hearing this Pippin
sighed,
“Ah, now there’s a handsome man if I ever saw one.”
Merry snorted,
“What do you know of men Pip, especially one as beautiful as that
one?”
“I know plenty...”
Aragorn heard the mention of Faramir’s name; he was enjoying the
playful banter.
“And I’ll have you know Faramir certainly knows his way
around a hobbit.”
” What is that supposed to mean?”
“Well, let’s just say that the night before Faramir went
off to Osgiliath we gave comfort to each other.”
The conversation around the table started to quiet. Pippin and Merry
continued talking, oblivious to the change in the room.
“What kind of comfort are you talking about Pip?”
“You, know exactly what I mean. And let me tell you something,
if Aragorn hadn’t made him Steward I’d have us working hard
to drag Faramir back to the shire with us.”
Merry began to feel the room was focusing on them,
“Us, why are you including me”
“Because it would take two or three of us, looking at Frodo, to
tame Faramir; he nearly killed me with pleasure. I thought if I’m
going to die that’s the way I want to go… He gave me a reason
to live. He is a master that one. I could hardly talk the next day from
all the noise I was making that night… When he rode out next morning
I thought I was never going to see him again. I know it’s not
nice to talk ill of the dead but I hope Denethor…”
Gandalf interrupted, “You’re right Pippin it is not good
to talk of the dead…or the living when they’re not in the
room to defend themselves.”
“Oh, Gandalf I didn’t mean anything, I just said Faramir
is a jewel in bed…”
“Yes Pippin we all heard you.”
Gandalf looked around. Pippin noticed all eyes were on him. All were
wide eyed.
“What did I do now?”
The room erupted in laughter. Aragorn said,
“Pippin, you are a wonder.”
Just then the last guest entered the room; obvious to everyone he was
trying to be inconspicuous. Pippin’s tale was too fresh in their
minds. The entire table looked in his direction. It became quiet; Aragorn
was trying hard not to smile. The face he was making in the attempt
caught Faramir off guard. Faramir quickly crossed the distance from
the door to the table. With every step the silence began to have a strange
effect on him. This was like all the other times he had been late for
dinner with his father. Conversation stops, all eyes are on him and
the weight of the silence crashes in upon him. He would go to Denethor
and ask his pardon. Faramir knew the procedure. He started to shut down.
He moved as if sleepwalking. Going to a small table next to the King’s
chair, he took out a whip. He moved toward the king, coming to his side,
he knelt. Everyone noticed the change in his demeanor; Gandalf rose
and walked towards him. As Faramir knelt beside the King’s seat,
“My lord, I have offended you with my tardiness, I respectfully
submit myself for what ever punishment you deem worthy for this transgression.”
He extended the whip with both hands to Aragorn. Faramir winced involuntarily
as if preparing his body for the blow he was sure would come. Gandalf
reached him,
“Faramir…Denethor is dead. The King has returned. He will
decide if a transgression has occurred.”
The mirth in the room turned to compassion. Aragorn stood, lifting Faramir
into his arms, “You have done nothing wrong my friend; you are
among those who love you. Sit and dine with us.”
This broke something in Faramir; he seemed to wake as if from a dream
realizing where he was.
“My lord, I’m sorry I’m late, I…”
“Do not worry yourself my friend, sit…eat.”
Arwen commented on the excellent food at the table. She thought to herself,
he is so wounded, so hungry for love. No wonder Aragorn is falling in
love with him.
Smiling she whispered to Aragorn,” I believe with every day that
passes the list of suitors for our Steward is bound to increase; he
is a jewel indeed.”
“I agree my dear, he is a wonder.”
Raising an eyebrow she teased, “Why Estel, are you on that list?”
“A wishful thought my dear, it will pass.”
“Will it my love…I wonder.”
Arwen thought, Faramir, you will make a loving partner to my husband,
even if I have to help you both realize it.
Chapter 3 - Wedding bells toll
He spoke to Éowyn about the dining incident and much more before they
agreed to marry. She was truly a treasure. He counted himself lucky
she had accepted him with all his faults and history. They started to
know each other upon release from the Houses of Healing; he felt a kindness
in her that made it easy to share his thoughts and feelings. Their relationship
blossomed. As the weeks passed he realized he had developed romantic
feelings for her. He thought of marriage. He would have to share with
her his appetite for love. The extensive history it had brought him.
It was a history of which he was not ashamed. Yet, he did not know how
a lady of Rohan would react. She might mistake his offer as an attempt
at a conquest. Far from it Faramir thought she is a lady worthy of true
love. Faramir debated the situation for days before he decided to act.
He was not certain what her response would be. Of one thing he was certain;
he would be completely honest with her concerning his feelings for the
king.
When he made his proposal to her the setting was the king’s private
gardens. They had taken to walking in the gardens at the end of the
day to talk. As they walked in the royal courtyard, he proposed to Éowyn.
He also confessed his passion for the king. He assured her that if she
accepted him, she would be the only woman he would love. He could not
agree to foreswear other male lovers, “If this is an issue perhaps
some middle ground could be found.”
Her eyebrows rose. Her voice was icy, “Lord Faramir, are you proposing
marriage to me or are we in negotiations like unto a trade agreement.”
Faramir’s stricken look softened Éowyn’s stare. He knelt
in front of her with bowed head. He slowly lifted it to meet her eyes.
Faramir spoke words Éowyn would forever swear were some magical spell
bewitching her into loving him. Or it could have been the impact of
his eyes as he lifted his head to face her, she could not honestly say
which was the more potent magic.
“My lady Éowyn, I would rather have you know the truth from my
lips than to have whispered stories shape your thoughts. I speak to
you now as one who loves you. If you accept my proposal of marriage
I will make you happy. If we are blessed with children they will be
our treasure shared. I would only ask of you to accept me with the burden
that has chained my heart. I will foreswear other lovers, but my love
for Aragorn is beyond my desire or will to control.”
Her reaction, so unexpected made him blushed to think of it. She first
raised him to his feet,
“I know of your love for Aragorn, often I heard you calling his
name in the Houses of Healing. More than this, I have seen how you look
at him when you think no one is watching.”
“No”, noticing the look of concern on his face, “no
one sees but me, for I too love the king. Accepting his marriage to
Queen Arwen has freed me to love again… to love you. I wish them
happiness and joy. As for us my dear Faramir, your proposal to wed is
a prize beyond my hopes. Your feelings for me may not be the same as
those for the king; I accept your love for what it is. I do not expect
you to set aside the love you have for him. I know the king will never
think of me other than as a sister. Yet you may have a chance to be
more than a brother or Steward. As for other loves in your life, my
only request is that no other women find company in your arms.”
She smiled sweetly. A look took shape on her face; he has since learned
is as devilish as it is lovely.
“While I may not have your undivided attention, from what I’ve
heard of “Gondor’s great seducer” I am getting quite
a prize in my bed.”
Faramir blushed violently. He had meant to discuss this other matter
with Éowyn, but thought to start with the more important issue.
“Ah, yes that” he stammered sheepishly, “I meant to
share that information with you as well, my lady. Thinking to spare
you an avalanche of my faults all at once I planned to speak of it next.”
“From what I’ve heard of the legend, it is I who might suffer
from an avalanche of ecstasy at your hands Lord Faramir. Tell me is
it true that no maiden, man or elf is safe from your powers of seduction,
oh I forgot, or hobbit? Is it true that you once defeated an army of
Easterlings by bedding 1000 of them into a state of exhaustion? And
that the lucky companion to share your bed will be hoarse for days from
the screams of joy you draw from their lips. Is it true you leave these
fortunate ones in total exhaustion from the pleasures they experience?
And…”
“My lady I beg you stop, I begin to realize the legend has grown
even while I have worked to reduce the number of tales.”
Then he gave her a look guaranteed to melt the heart. Sweetly, innocently,
“The Easterling army my lady…it was not all in a single
night, it took me 7 days and there were only 100 of them.”
She looked at him for a second, the meaning of his words, becoming clear.
Both fell into laughter, tears coming to their eyes. They were both
thus convulsed when the King and Queen came upon them. With great difficulty
they made an attempt at composure. The king, who was smiling from ear
to ear, as was the queen, stopped them in mid bow.
” I have not heard laughter like yours for some time, it is wonderful,
might I ask what has brought this merriment?”
“Perhaps it is a private matter my Lord, let us not pry.”
“Of course my love, Lord Faramir, Lady Éowyn you are free to keep
your mirth, if you so desire.”
Éowyn was the first to respond as Faramir stifled his giggling.
“We will gladly share our laughter with you my lord.”
Faramir stiffened. He was about to say something when Éowyn continued,
“We were discussing legends and feats of heroes when the legend
of “Gondor’s great seducer” came up.”
Faramir was beside himself frozen at the thought of what else Éowyn
would share,
“It seems the exploits of the hero have fallen to myth and mystery.
The stories have gone through so many retellings; the actual events
have probably been exaggerated beyond the bounds of reality. We were
discussing the exaggerations when the release laughter brings overcame
us.”
Faramir shot a wicked glance at Éowyn, his body relaxing as he realized
Éowyn was not sharing more details. He could not help but add,
“However, all legends do have a basis in fact; one simply has
to find the right key to fit the keyhole of the stories.”
Looking at each other, they fell into a giggling fit gasping out as
best they could,
“Our apologies my lord, lady we are unable to control...”
It seemed the more they tried to stop their laughter the more it intensified.
Aragorn and Arwen looked puzzled. The laughter became infectious. Soon
they were pulled into it as well. It was several minutes before all
regained their composure. Walking side by side they moved to the great
dining hall.
That evening Éowyn consented to be his wife and companion with the
understanding that freedom for both was of utmost importance. Each would
agree to give free reign to the others lives and interests. Éowyn added,
while she felt Faramir would satisfy her need for male companionship,
she understood he might have need of it as well. They settled into an
agreement. If Faramir found a male companion he would tell her of the
experiences in detail. Faramir grinned at the explicit demand for details
Éowyn requested. Her body flushed warm when she asked for this, a sensation
Faramir recognized as arousal. She noticed his grin and punched him
lovingly on the arm,
“We must all find our pleasures in our own way my love.”
They started to laugh, finding Faramir and Éowyn became an easy matter
when they were together; one simply listened for their laughter.
Chapter 4 - The honeymoon is over
Éowyn asked to see the king in private to share her plans to travel
to Rohan. Aragorn wondered at the timing; she and Faramir had only been
married three weeks. The gossip around the castle had the couple deliriously
in love. Éowyn’s cries of joy at night were a testament to their
happiness.
“Of course Éowyn you are free to come and go as you please…is
everything alright? How long will you be gone?”
“Everything is fine my lord I just need to give Faramir some time
to sort some things out alone. We discussed it; I will return soon.
If I might be so bold, could I ask you to look after him while I am
away?”
Embracing her, “Of course we’ll make sure he is healthy
and well cared for until your return. Is there anything in particular?”
“Aragorn, he cares deeply for you but is hesitant to show it.
I can say no more. I just ask you to be patient with my stubborn husband.
You will be richly rewarded for it” she gave him an enigmatic
smile as she left.
Aragorn met Faramir in the king’s study the next morning. They
talked briefly of Éowyn’s departure. Faramir looked like a lost
child. Aragorn warmed at the sight, loving the look in those grey eyes
wanting to take him in his arms and comfort him.
“Will you join us for dinner tonight?”
Faramir begged off saying there were many meetings scheduled today;
he would probably work late into the night.
“I understand, promise me you’ll not forget to eat. I promised
Éowyn to look after you while she’s away.”
As Faramir left the king’s study Aragorn was again struck by the
grace and beauty of his Steward. He longed to touch him as a lover.
He would have to settle for a friend. It seemed Faramir was now happily
married. Well maybe not happily. Aragorn shamed at the thought that
the marital trouble would benefit his cause with Faramir. If I truly
love him, I should be more concerned for his well being rather than
looking for an opportunity to get into his trousers. Aragorn smiled
shaking his head; he needed to concentrate on affairs of the kingdom;
tasks guaranteed to bore him out of any reverie.
Two days passed since Éowyn left, Aragorn had not seen Faramir since
the morning after her departure. He continued to plead being too busy
to join the royal dinner table. His absence was noticed. Aragorn had
his fellowship friends in attendance at dinner time. Faramir’s
stoic nature became a topic of conversation. It had been Pippin who
shook an opinion beginning to take root. Despite Pippin’s earlier
accounts of his night with Faramir, it was believed Faramir was stiff,
too much in control of his emotions, having only passion for work. Legolas
had been the one to voice the opinion. It moved Pippin to a bold declaration;
it was priceless. No one would have suspected the Steward of Gondor
of such talents.
“Faramir is the best man lover I have ever had.”
Laughter erupted at the little one’s unabashed statement. Merry
retorted,
“Pippin! What’s so special about Faramir?”
“Well I’m not one to talk about such personal matters. I
will only say that the night I spent with Faramir was like a night filled
with Gandalf’s fireworks going off in my body… and that’s
not all that went off. He can do things with his body that only a wizard
could match.”
The hobbit had everyone in pain at the laughter he was causing. It seemed
to spur him on, “I won’t say anymore except that lady Éowyn
probably left to get some rest from her new husband.”
Yet again laughter this time interrupted by Gandalf,
“Pippin that is quite enough, I’m sure Faramir would not
appreciate being talked about in this manner.”
“I’ll have to find him then and apologize…even if
it kills me.”
Laughter again, Gandalf rolled his eyes. Sitting next to Aragorn, Legolas
whispered,
“I think Pippin has mistaken our Steward for someone else, I can
not imagine the Faramir I’ve seen relax enough to enjoy the pleasures
of the body let alone elicit the kind of rapture Pippin describes.”
Aragorn smiled, “It’s those quiet ones you have to watch
out for.”
Legolas raised an eyebrow, “Perhaps I should go exploring for
Pippin’s Faramir.”
Aragorn snapped, a little too quickly, “No Legolas, perhaps you
better not…I would not risk your health or safety should you unleash
the passions of our noble Steward.”
” My king is too kind, always thinking of others.”
Aragorn knew Legolas had guessed the truth. His reaction to Legolas’
comment gave him away. They looked at each other, laughed and kissed
on the lips.
“I wish you luck in the hunt Estel” Legolas winked.
The dinner guests looked on smiling, Pippin was heard to say,
“Are we going hunting then?”
Legolas and Aragorn chuckled.
Next morning, Aragorn decided to ambush his Steward and coerce him
into joining them for dinner. He went to the library where he knew Faramir
liked to start his day. He found him there asleep. His clothes were
rumpled; there was a half eaten apple and a loaf of bread with only
two bites broken off. He looked beautiful sleeping amidst the books
he loved. Aragorn picked up the book Faramir had been reading. It was
an old Sindarin song book. He thought, is there no limit to your talents
my love?
Faramir stirred at the noise the king made.
He still has his keen ranger instincts. I hope mine are not getting
dulled with this king business. Faramir looked up at the figure of the
king standing before him rising to attention as if he had been prodded
with a hot iron.
“My lord, forgive me I did not notice you enter.”
“No I did not think you did, you were sound asleep my dear Steward.
Tell me is this where you hide so as not to dine with us.”
Faramir’s stricken look moved Aragorn to quickly add,
“I was joking Faramir…relax.”
Faramir’s body slackened a little,
“I would never hide from you my lord; I was researching... I must
have fallen asleep.”
Now that he was standing Aragorn noticed Faramir’s slender body.
It accentuated the lost weight. He was naturally slight of build so
there was not much to lose,
“Faramir have you been eating and sleeping in here?”
“No…well sometimes…there is much to prepare, the council
schedules, your schedule, I have to research your meetings to provide
the best information upon which to make decisions. I consider it an
honor…”
“Well I do not; I do not want you spending your days and nights
worrying about meetings and schedules to the point that you neglect
your own well being. I promised Éowyn I’d look after you while
she is away. Look how I’ve failed. You’re living in the
library so as to make my life easier; what does that say about the king…that
he is selfish, allowing others to suffer in his stead. No I won’t
have it. From now on I do not want you working past dinner time. I want
you to join us for dinner tonight. The fellowship friends have been
in attendance. They are anxious to reacquaint themselves with you.”
“But my lord, there is an ambassador from one of our eastern provinces
scheduled to be here in a week; I have to prepare your notes.”
“Faramir, I am told your stubbornness is legendary, you will find
me an equal in that regard. Do you want me to make it an order?”
“There is no need my lord; I will do as you ask.”
“Good, I’m glad that’s settled, if you will do us
the honor of joining us tonight it will be appreciated.”
“My lord Aragorn, I’m sorry, I must ask for a short reprieve.
I am scheduled to tour the lands to our eastern borders in preparation
for the ambassador’s visit. I need to be away for two days. I
am not avoiding your invitation; it is a great honor you bestow upon
me. I would assign the task to another but I am the only one who speaks
the language. It is a short trip but it must be done”
Aragorn sighed and smiled,
“Very well, but you will dine with us when you return. And I will
set guards on you to make sure you eat…if I need to?”
“There is no need my lord, I will not add to your burdens.”
“Faramir, can you try to call me Aragorn when we’re alone
like this?”
“I will try my lord Aragorn; I mean I will…Ara…Aragorn.”
“There you see the sky did not open, nothing bad happened, please,
call me Aragorn. Remember I am trying to be your friend.”
“Yes my lord…I’m… I’m sorry…Aragorn.”
Aragorn gave a heavy sigh and shook his head,
“I see I have my work cut out for me, I’ll see you in two
days”
Faramir started shaking as the king’s footsteps echoed in the
hallway. It had taken every ounce of discipline not to reach out to
Aragorn; to beg for a kiss. He did not realize how strong the attraction
had become. He foolishly thought the dreams he had been having would
help relieve some of the pent up attraction. It seemed they had only
served to fuel the feelings. It had been as Éowyn predicted. She had
insisted he talk to the king about his feelings. They had agreed he
would do so if the need arose. She had decided to give him time to himself
and this issue; she had pushed her cause by leaving. At least I’ll
have two days of respite from any decision making he thought. He raced
to prepare for the journey. He left before the noon meal was served.
Aragorn felt distressed after his conversation with Faramir. It seemed
the Steward was closing himself off even more than usual. Faramir looked
almost in pain during their discussion. Perhaps the trouble with Éowyn
was more serious than he imagined. He felt guilty. He had made light
of their situation. It might be best that Faramir get a few days away
from the castle, fresh air always helps clear the mind. He is sure to
take the opportunity to relax and refresh. He recalled the long day
of meetings ahead of him and wished he could accompany his Steward.
Chapter 5 - Snakebites and responsibility
Faramir found the trip uneventful; he took a small number of men. He
spent only one day on the task at hand and started back for the White
City. On the return trip one of his men suffered a snake bite while
collecting firewood for the evening meal. Faramir tended to him personally.
Under his expert care the man recovered. However, it delayed his return.
He sent word to the king hoping it would not be taken as a diversionary
tactic to avoid dinner. Surely not, Aragorn was a wise man; he would
not think Faramir would create an excuse like this. Faramir saw his
reflection in a stream as he washed for dinner. He had lost weight.
He felt stronger and healthier than he had in years, but apparently
the small amount of lost weight still showed. I can look forward to
more badgering on the issue he thought. After eating he retired to his
tent and sank immediately into a deep sleep.
-Faramir is walking in the King’s Garden he stops looks down
and realizes he is naked. The king approaches, Faramir feels his body
respond
”Faramir what is the matter?”
“Nothing my lord, I only wish to please you, I will do anything
for you my lord you have but to ask it of me.”
The king wraps his arms around his Steward and draws him into a deep
kiss his hands roaming freely over the naked man.
-Faramir is in the king’s study about to ask the king a question
which he considers of great importance he knows this, but for the life
of him cannot remember what it is. The king looks at him,
“Well Faramir what is it you want of me.”
Faramir answers,
“Only your love…your body sire that I might pleasure you
to the highest peaks of delight.”
Aragorn looks unmoved as if Faramir had said nothing, then moves towards
Faramir and begins to undress. Faramir looks on as the king slowly strips
for him,
“Do you want me like this?”
“Yes my lord…yes… “
Faramir descends to his knees.
Captain Faramir! Someone is yelling outside his tent calling him back
from sleep. He bemoans the abrupt end to such a sweet dream he is still
erect as he moves to stand from the bed.
The guard is bidden in. He brings a message, “The king sends word
he wishes to speak with you, immediately… My apologies to the
dream lover” nodding at his captain’s aroused state.
“No apologies needed, the dream always returns.”
Faramir smiles at his guard and wonders if he has heard stories of “Gondor’s
great seducer.” Not for the first time does Faramir wish there
were a way to end the lore that he will bed anything on two legs. He
blames Boromir for starting the tale.
“Ah, Boromir dear beloved brother how I miss you”
The thought comes rushing in accompanied by the familiar heartache.
Misunderstanding the look on Faramir’s face, the guard quickly
bows his head,
“Your pardon captain if I offended with my familiarity...”
“Nonsense, you have no need for pardon, no offense was taken”
The guard’s face softens, he ventures to add,
“Captain Faramir…if there is anything I can do to ease your…discomfort…well,
you have but to ask it of me…”
Faramir cut him off...
“thank you, you are most kind; I have noted many of my men lately
have been awash in generosity, offering their comfort to me, is there
a new “story” I have not heard?”
The guard stiffens at the question,
“There are many who are concerned for you my lord, who care and
…”
Faramir raised an eyebrow wordlessly commanding him to go on.
“Many who love you captain Faramir and would consider it an honor
to ease your burdens and give comfort…”
Faramir smiled and looked directly into the eyes of the guard,
“…you honor me with your concern….”
He moved toward the guard and kissed him on the lips sending a jolt
of pleasure through both of them,
“But I must be true to the dream lover.”
His manner let the guard know it was the end of the conversation, the
guard smiled and retreated.
Faramir’s response to the king; he would ride immediately to answer
his lord’s command.
After the tent flap closed he thought to himself,
Well Faramir, one more on the list who will claim to have shared your
bed. Still the kiss cost me little. He could still taste the lips of
the handsome guard. They had opened and offered all to his captain.
What was it he had said?
“You have but to ask it of me.”
The words echoed what he said to Aragorn in the dream,
“You have but to ask it of me” he added softly,
“For my heart is yours.”
When Faramir arrived at the castle he went first to his quarters. Quickly
he washed the dust of the journey off his body. He put on fresh clothes
and started for the king’s study. He had much to do; he hoped
the king would be brief. The information he had collected would fill
several parchments with notes for the king to review. As he entered
the study he noticed the king standing by the window. He bowed to him.
In his most formal voice, “My lord Aragorn, I have returned with
much information for your use in our meetings with the ambassador…I
can start writing them for you today…”
Aragorn turned fixing his gaze on Faramir. It froze him to the spot.
Fearing some ill news was at hand.
“My lord is something wrong?”
Aragorn’s voice was controlled, neutral; Faramir had heard it
very few times before, never in a happy instance.
“Faramir I thought you said this journey was to be a two day affair,
one that would not require much of you?”
“Yes my lord, I apologize for the delay, I sent word of the accident
one of my men experienced. I was delayed while I tended to him.”
“I suppose there was no one else among your men who could tend
to the wound; it had to be you.”
Aragorn looked at him as if he were some strange object he had just
discovered.
“My lord, there are many capable men in my unit. I felt it my
responsibility to…”
“Yes I know Faramir, your responsibility to your men, to your
king, to Gondor, what about your responsibility to yourself, your well
being? I thought we had an agreement.”
Faramir’s temper began to simmer. He could not believe, he was
being taken to task for doing his job, for being responsible? Faramir’s
voice took on a cold edge that matched Aragorn’s neutral tone;
Faramir would not be cowed by this royal attitude.
“My Lord Aragorn”
With the obvious intent to be as formal as possible, “I felt my
responsibility to your highness was to keep a member of the royal army
alive and healthy. I have never been comfortable asking others to assume
my responsibilities.”
“Yet is that not what I do? Do I not shirk off my responsibilities
to you every day?”
“My lord I did not mean it that way, I consider it an honor. You
trust me with so much.”
“Yes well obviously I have failed in a very important matter…
making sure my Steward remains healthy, you look like you’ve lost
more weight and you probably have not been sleeping well from the look
in your eyes. But I remedy that today. You will take the next two days
for yourself… to relax; you are to do no work for the king.”
Faramir was incredulous the ambassador was scheduled to arrive in two
days, did the king not realize the importance of this event, the peace
of the kingdom could be cemented further in a few days of meetings.
“With respect my king, the ambassadorial party arrives in two
days, I have notes for you, they can help immensely in the discussions.
If you give me one day I can have them written up and ready for your
…”
“Faramir”
The king said his name in a such a tone, Faramir thought he was about
to be handed a death sentence,
“You will not touch parchment; you will not think of meetings
or schedules especially not the king’s schedule do I make myself
clear?”
Faramir swallowed hard debating whether he should venture one more argument;
he decided to attempt it using a different tone. Adopting a low compelling
voice, “Your majesty, I apologize my health has troubled you.
I promised to take care of myself. Obviously, I failed in that regard
for that I ask your forgiveness. I will do as you order, if you would
grant me just one day to complete some final notes for you. I will then
remove myself from your sight.”
The man is stubborn Aragorn thought, I can’t damn him for being
responsible, but I can’t have him wasting away. He looks lean.
Aragorn caught himself wavering. It ignited a sharp flare of anger;
he was being thrown off his intent. He had noticed the change in voice
the Steward was using. The only word to describe it was seductive. You
are good my smooth talking Steward. Using that voice could melt a heart
of stone; not this time. Faramir studied the king’s expression.
He read what looked like victory, and then saw the expression change.
His final argument had failed. The king had seen through his attempt.
He braced himself.
"Faramir! You are behaving like a child. I command this. You will
take time to relax or I shall have you locked up? Do I have to call
the guards?"
Faramir had witnessed the king's anger before; never thinking it would
ever be aimed in his direction; certainly not with this intensity.
” No of course not my lord I will do as you command."
With that he bowed and walked briskly out of the king's study. Arwen
heard the raised voice of the king. She wondered who had elicited such
a reaction; it took much to make Aragorn angry. She met Faramir in the
hall as he left the study,
” What is wrong Faramir? Who has upset the king?"
“My lady” Faramir bowed to her,
” I am afraid I am the cause of the king's displeasure. I hurry
now to remedy the situation, if you will excuse me."
Arwen could not help notice the Steward's formal response, an attitude
he adopts when he wishes to close himself off from the world. She thought
he is almost elvish in his ability.
"Of course Faramir, but whatever happened it will pass."
Faramir did not respond simply bowed low and walked away in his most
formal manner. She could sense his pain,
"The king has wounded him deeply in his anger."
She walked into the study,
"Aragorn what happened?"
Aragorn was breathing hard the exchange had been difficult. He planned
on getting close to his Steward by focusing on his health. Perhaps begin
a new level of relationship. Instead the Steward came in with a wall
of formality several layers deep. Regaining his composure, "That
man is going to be the death of me Arwen. Do you know I had to threaten
him with imprisonment to get him take time for himself? I cannot have
my Steward wasting away because of his responsibility to the king."
Arwen's look of concern melted into a grin.
"What are you smiling about; this is a serious matter."
"Oh Aragorn listen to yourself. Look at yourself, getting upset
over Faramir's well being. I do not see you asking after the health
of other members of your council. Do you not see the love that has blossomed
in your heart?"
He muttered, "I don't see how concern for the best Steward a king
could have can be seen as love, my dear. I merely want to keep my councilor
in top form. He..."
"Aragorn…it is I who will become cross with you if you do
not stop this talk. Of course you love him, you love him desperately,
and you know I don't begrudge you this Estel. Why are you fighting the
truth?"
Aragorn looked at his wife, frown breaking into a smile,
” I am not ...damn… granted at first I thought it a passing
infatuation... But…the truth my dearest Arwen is that I have fallen
in love with him. And…I am frustrated to no end by it. I am not
certain how to proceed. Should I pursue him, should I wait to see if
he feels something for me, am I acting the fool for a love that has
no future?"
"Aragorn, I have not seen you like this since you and Legolas
first encountered each other those long years ago. Do you remember the
torment you put yourself through, not to mention the trouble you were
to those around you. Did you not learn anything? You are wasting valuable
time. Talk to him, Faramir has a gentle and loving heart. If he feels
for you as you do him you will be richer for it, if he does not, you
can move on. First, you may wish to heal the hurt you inflicted. From
the look on his face I thought you had banished him from your sight.
Believe me one does not feel such anguish if there is no love. Go to
him, talk to him “
“Yes of course, I never meant to hurt him it’s just…
that wall he puts up that made me angry. Why can he not see me as a
man, not his king? I've been trying to be his friend. If that is all
I can have I would accept it… but to not even be given the opportunity
is exasperating."
“Yes, my lord Aragorn, I know of no one like Faramir for keeping
his emotions in check and letting few into their world"
The look she gave caused them both to burst out laughing.
"Now my lady, you are not suggesting that I behave in a manner
in any way similar to our Steward?"
"I would never suggest such a thing my lord."
Both began to laugh.
"Arwen, you are terrible...I love you."
"I know Estel, I know...now go find your Steward and talk."
“I will do so at once my Queen.”
Chapter 6 - The
benefits of exercise
Faramir had not felt this hurt when his father lashed out at him with
his scathing remarks, why was he feeling as if he wanted to cry? He
thought as he walked through the halls of the castle, what have I done
to deserve this? I love the man; I do my best for him. I do not wish
to cause him trouble; I act as formally as I can for his sake. For this
I am called a child? The hurt turned to anger; no one stopped him as
he moved through the castle. The look on his face was enough to stop
an Orc attack. He arrived at his study; as expected no one was there.
He walked to the middle of the room. Slowly, he picked up a chair. Throwing
it against the wall, it shattered. That felt good he thought. He began
to tear the remaining furniture in the room to bits. Later he thought
how lucky the study was sparsely furnished. The storm lasted a few minutes.
He stopped when there was nothing left to break. A silence descended
in the room as he slipped to his knees. Closing his eyes, he began to
breathe slowly, going through a calming meditation. He opened his eyes
looking around at his accomplishment. So, this is what happens when
the famous Faramir control is allowed to slip he thought. A soft knock
at the door roused him.
“Who is it?”
“May I come in Faramir?”
Faramir recognized the voice of his mentor and friend.
He rose and turned to the door, “A moment Gandalf…please…enter”
Opening the door, Gandalf walked in, and looked around.
”Faramir, can I help you find whatever it is you were looking
for?”
Faramir’s laughter released whatever tension remained after his
physical exertion.
“Gandalf, I have been doing some redecorating Grey Hand style”
Faramir looked at Gandalf with the most alluring grey eyes, just a touch
of sadness in them; it touched Gandalf’s heart.
“My dear Faramir, how I love you; you have been my pupil, my friend,
and for one memorable night my bed mate. I have not often seen you like
this, might I offer some advice?”
Faramir’s eyes softened with love as he looked at his friend,
“Mithrandir, I thank you deeply but I do not want any words of
counsel.”
“Actually… I was going to suggest something other than words…
physical activity. I believe the healing power of the practice field
might be helpful.”
“And it would keep the royal furniture in one piece” Faramir
smiled. Gandalf’s eyebrows rose up.
“Indeed… I don’t believe the men of Gondor have seen
a Grey Hand master in many years. It would be an opportunity for them
to see such skills as you possess?”
Faramir grinned, “An excellent idea, I could benefit from a good
hard session. And since the king has threatened to imprison me if I
do not take the next two days off, the timing is perfect.”
Gandalf raised a hand,
“A note of caution my friend, if you train the guards of the Citadel
remember, they are not as easily replaced as furniture.”
With that he smiled and left the room. The laugh from the study mingled
with Gandalf’s receding laughter.
Aragorn was on his way to Faramir’s study when he encountered
Gandalf.
“Greetings my lord Aragorn, might I have a word with you.”
“Yes of course Gandalf… but can it wait? I have some matters
to discuss with Faramir. I’m afraid I have caused hurt where none
was intended.”
“Yes I gathered as much from the furniture”
Aragorn raised an inquiring eyebrow.
“I have just left Faramir; it would be wise to wait a few hours.
Whatever happened between you has left Faramir…unsettled. He will
be himself in a few hours. We have some time to talk.”
Aragorn’s face was a remarkable combination of curiosity and dismay;
intrigued to see how Faramir looked unsettled. He could not imagine
his Steward displaying anything but a controlled exterior. While at
the same time feeling dismay knowing he had caused it.
“Is he in his study?”
“That is where I last saw him”
“Very well, let’s take a walk down to the practice fields,
maybe I’ll take a bit of exercise, it might help clear my thoughts
before I speak to my Steward.”
Gandalf smiled, “Yes, I am a firm believer in the healing power
of physical activity.”
When they reached the training space there was a small crowd gathered
around a circular training area. The soldiers were training in hand
to hand combat. Seeing the king approach all stopped and stood at attention.
“Please continue.”
The men bowed resuming their sparing routines. Just then a masked figure
entered the area. He was garbed in a loose fitting grey uniform accentuating
his slender body. He wore a mask of thin fabric over his face with openings
for eyes and nose, a Grey Hand master. Aragorn recognized the traditional
garbs. He remembered Faramir listed several practitioners of the art
among the army of Gondor. Aragorn had not seen one in years. He knew
their tradition of anonymity was part of their discipline usually only
adhered to by high level students. This was going to be interesting;
Aragorn hoped it would take his mind off his Steward. The Grey Hand
master entered the area bowing immediately to the king. Aragorn knew
the traditional greeting,
“You have our permission to practice here, be safe.”
The masked figure bowed again and began his routine. The movements he
displayed were like a dance, graceful and strong. He stretched out his
legs and jumped as he kicked in the air with amazing agility. He seemed
to fly at times. He ran through a series of moves with empty hands which
became a blur. He took up a staff and began a new series of movements.
He seemed to hardly be touching the ground at times. He seemed little
tired by the exertion of such a complex display. He stopped for a few
minutes. He seemed to be in a quiet meditation. A large solidly built
guard of the Citadel approached the figure and bowed. It signaled a
challenge. The pair was quickly surrounded by spectators most of them
friends of the challenger. The Grey Hand master bowed in reply to accept
the challenge. They agreed to an empty hand contest.
“This is going to be interesting” murmured Gandalf.
“Do you know who the Grey Hand master is? I know of their tradition
of anonymity but I thought it did not apply to non-Easterlings?”
“I know this one’s identity from his movements my lord.
Unless you command otherwise, I would respect the desire for anonymity.”
“I understand Gandalf; I won’t ask you to disclose his identity.
But if what I suspect we are about to witness is correct... I think
he would be a valuable asset in training my Citadel Guards.”
The men began to move slowly. Then suddenly the Citadel Guard charged.
He never got a chance to connect, the Grey Hand master turned aside
and with a seemingly effortless move sent the guard flying into the
air. The guard’s heavy build did not help his fall. He landed
on his back with a loud smack. He staggered to his feet and charged
again. This time the masked figure captured the guard’s body and
spun him around. Once more, the movement sent the guard flying. He landed
on his face this time. He slowly got to his feet turned and bowed to
the Grey Hand master. It was over. The grey figure was not even breathing
hard. The king approached the Grey Hand master,
“Well done…what is your rank in the art?”
With bowed head the Grey Hand master knelt low in front of the king,
“I am a third level master of the Grey Hand my lord.”
“Third level, I did not know that level was awarded to non-Easterlings,
you are from Gondor are you not?”
“Yes my lord.”
Aragorn thought he is as economical in his answers as he is in his movements.
“What unit do you belong to?”
“I am in Captain Faramir’s unit my lord”
“You are in the Steward’s unit?
“Yes my lord.”
“Would you be willing to train my Guards of the Citadel in the
ways of the Grey Hand?” “My lord, you have but to ask it
of me and it shall be done.”
“You are indeed in Captain Faramir’s unit that is a favorite
saying of his.”
“I will speak with my Steward about this matter, I am eager to
resume my own training in Grey Hand technique.”
At this the soldier stiffened. It spoke volumes given the exquisite
control he had maintained until then.
“Is there a problem soldier?”
“My lord, I would gladly obey any commands to train who ever you
wish, but it would not be possible to train the king.”
Aragorn thought he had heard wrong, was the soldier refusing the king.
“What do you mean? Did you not just say I have but to ask it of
you and it would be done?”
“Yes lord… forgive my impertinence, I live to obey.”
“Let’s start right now then”
Aragorn was annoyed. This conversation was starting to remind him of
the one he had with Faramir. Gandalf had been listening to this exchange
with amusement. The look on his face changed, betraying a sudden mounting
concern, he moved to intervene…
“Lord Aragorn, perhaps the time to attend that other matter has
come?”
Aragorn did not listen, “I came here to get some exercise, that
is what I intend to do.”
Gandalf ventured,
“Perhaps my lord is not aware of all the traditions of the Grey
Hand path.”
“I know enough that I would be grateful to our resident master
for instruction. Come soldier of Gondor, let us spar with staves.”
The masked figure regained his quiet control; it seemed his objections
only helped spur the king on, quite the opposite effect for which he
aimed.
“My lord, I will do as you command.”
“Thank you; do not let my status influence your training of me.”
The group of soldiers circled the two sparring men as they began to
move around each other long staves in their hands. Gandalf made one
last attempt, “Aragorn, my king let us rethink this moment.”
Aragorn simply looked at his masked opponent,
“I do not want you to hold back…Hear me all, I am commanding
this loyal soldier of Gondor to help me in my training as he would any
other man.”
This Aragorn thought had been the problem all along. The soldier did
not want to fight the king for fear of injuring him. Well this will
be a good lesson for all; even the king can take hard lessons.
“A third level master…I’ll be sore for days.”
Chapter 7 - Tradition
As they circled, the king struck the first blow an overhead strike
easily blocked. The Grey Hand master turned the blow aside leaving the
king exposed to a direct blow to the chest. The masked figure did not
take the opportunity. Swinging his staff instead, aiming at the king’s
feet. Aragorn easily jumped, avoiding the blow. Aragorn slid in aiming
at the soldier’s chest connecting a glancing blow as the masked
figure easily moved aside. The soldiers cheered. The masked man spun
around and his sweep connected this time sending Aragorn to the ground.
Aragorn stood up quickly, the soldiers surrounding them cheered as he
did so. Aragorn waived them to be silent. He circled again and struck,
missing the target. The response was a blow to his arms that made him
drop the staff. He picked it up quickly but felt a numbness drifting
towards his fingertips as he tried to grip the staff. The soldier spoke,
“My lord I pray you let us stop.”
Aragorn was enjoying himself despite the pain.
“No my good soldier, I have not had this much fun in weeks, let
us continue.”
Arwen heard excited murmurings. She learned the king was practicing
on the training field with a Grey Hand master. Arwen’s first thought
was, I sent him to find a lover and he goes to fight instead...Men.
Suddenly, she felt a sudden chill, as if a shadow had passed over the
face of the sun. She ran to the training field not sure why, needing
to be near Aragorn. When she arrived she was startled to see the king
on the ground he had been knocked down by a masked figure. The Grey
Hand master she thought. Aragorn rose slowly but he stood firm. He started
to move towards the figure again.
“Sire please I beg you…”
The masked figure’s voice seemed oddly familiar to Arwen.
“My good soldier of Gondor, just one more round, then we can quit.
You shall be my guest of honor at dinner tonight.”
“Yes my lord… my life is yours.”
Arwen thought it an odd choice of words in the midst of a sparring match.
Aragorn’s weariness betrayed him. A blow from the soldier meant
to be glancing, met with the king’s face. It knocked him to the
ground a bruise on his cheek began to bleed.
“I yield, soldier of Gondor, well done. I’ll need to rest
a few days but I look forward to many more sessions with you.”
“Then it is over?”
The soldier’s voice was leaden.
Suddenly, Gandalf’s voice sounded like thunder across the practice
field.
“Aragorn, command him to stand at attention. Immediately”
Gandalf’s look was enough for Aragorn, he barked
“Soldier of Gondor, the king commands you, stand at attention!”
The masked figure went rigid. He could have been a statue; no breathing
could be seen amidst the cloth of his uniform. Only his grey eyes shown
through the mask, eyes Arwen knew she had seen before. Gandalf moved
to where the king and the masked figure faced each other. They were
still surrounded by the soldiers on the field. They were feeling all
was not right after Gandalf yelled to the king. Arwen ran to them. The
masked soldier seemed oddly out of place, an inanimate object among
so much activity. Arwen thought, he is so elf like…She smiled
at the quiet realization. All attention was on the scene in the center
of the practice field.
“What is it Gandalf what’s wrong.”
“A grave situation Lord Aragorn,”
The formality Gandalf used concerned Aragorn.
“If you will permit me; soldier of Gondor what is it you are honor
bound to do now that the sparring match with the king is over.”
The soldier did not answer. Gandalf sighed,
He directed at the soldier, “Stubbornness does not become you.”
“Lord Aragorn you will have to order him to answer me.”
This had become increasingly ominous, Aragorn ordered the soldier to
respond,
His voice calm as if commenting on the weather,
“My lord, I hear and obey. I am honor bound to kill myself.”
“What”
The word came from everyone’s lips. Aragorn snapped,
“What do you mean kill yourself… answer!”
“My Lord, I have struck the King, I have drawn blood from one
I am sworn to protect with my life. There is only one act which can
remedy the offense.”
“I commanded you to spar with me. I ordered you to not hold back.
I made a point of announcing to the world this was for my personal instruction.”
“Yes my lord, but the path of the Grey Hand has traditions…”
“Damn tradition…I will not allow this even if I have to
keep you at attention the rest of your life.”
Gandalf had been silent during this time kneading his brow; he stepped
forward and whispered,
”Aragorn, there is a way I know to circumvent our stubborn soldier
in his intent on self annihilation. I will need your support in this.”
Aragorn nodded looking at the soldier,
“You are still under order to answer Gandalf’s questions.”
Gandalf walked around the soldier,
“So you would have killed yourself if we had not frozen you to
the spot would you?” “Yes, sir”
“What if I told you there is a Grey Hand tradition that allows
for the negation of this offense?”
“I have not heard of this tradition.
Gandalf raised his eyebrows,
“Really I would have thought you would have found the entry given
all the research you’ve done on the subject of Grey Hand practice.
Do you not recall the king’s order of compassion? The rule allows
the king to exercise mercy, to show his love for his soldiers, especially,
those with whom he trains. Open your mind Faramir… let the knowledge
return, it is there you’ve seen it.”
Aragorn paled at the name, Faramir, could it be.
“Faramir is that you?”
“Yes my lord Aragorn, it is I.”
Gandalf found the knot behind the mask, pulling it free, it fell away.
Faramir’s face shone brilliantly in the sun, his hair clinging
to his forehead. Everyone gasped whispering his name. Faramir was still
standing at attention; moving closer Aragorn whispered, “This
is how you relax?”
Then louder,
“Faramir do you remember what can be done to remedy this situation
without you killing yourself?”
“Yes my lord, Mithrandir has refreshed my memory I apologize for
not remembering sooner, but it is too much to ask of your majesty’s
person.”
“I think we could handle it, what is it I must do?”
“I cannot ask it of you my lord, it is too much of an imposition.”
“Faramir, if you kill yourself it will be more of an imposition,
don’t you think? Besides there is the ambassador’s visit
two days from now”
The mood changed so swiftly from deadly earnest to jovial banter that
it was difficult for those around them to keep up. The atmosphere still
held an undercurrent of danger. Gandalf spoke up,
“If our Steward won’t speak, Aragorn…” the rest
he whispered to him. Aragorn nearly broke out laughing.
“Faramir, Steward of Gondor, Captain of Gondor and beloved of
the king, I hereby grant you full pardon for this offense which you
have taken upon yourself. I also bestow upon you the embrace of the
king and a kiss of gratitude for the service you have given us this
day.”
With that Aragorn embraced Faramir and kissed him full on the lips.
Faramir felt the king’s tongue try to break his lips apart. He
was still ordered to be at attention.
By the Valar, this is certainly a new form of torture devised especially
for me he thought. Aragorn released him,
“Faramir, Grey Hand master and Steward of Gondor…at ease.”
Faramir’s body relaxed, he nearly fell over. Regaining his balance,
kneeling before Aragorn,
“Thank you my lord.”
He stood up and quickly found himself surrounded by cheering soldiers
who picked him up and carried him on their shoulders to the dressing
area. Aragorn smiled and yelled,
“You are still my guest of honor at dinner…I wonder if he
heard me?”
Arwen approached, “Dearest getting your potential lover killed
is not a good way of winning him over.” Aragorn looked at her
laughing. Gandalf joined in the laughter, “You know the kiss could
have been on the cheek.” The three retired to the castle stopping
only to catch their breath before starting to laugh again.
Chapter 8 - Other
skills
The three walked laughing into the castle by way of the Stewards wing.
As they passed the Steward’s study, all stopped to see the cleaning
in progress. The king and queen looked in, amazed at the destruction
they saw. Aragorn asked,
“What happened? It looks like a mountain troll was set loose in
here?”
The servant smiled,
“I don’t know milord, I was told to come and help clean
up. It was like this when we arrived.”
Gandalf spoke,
“Lord Aragorn, the Steward of Gondor was… unsettled this
morning after your conversation. It does not happen often, but when
Faramir loses control…well…”
He flashed them a smile and began to chuckle.
Aragorn smiled, “I’m glad he got this out of his system
before we met in the practice field, I don’t think I would be
standing here otherwise.”
Arwen added, “This is perfect; while Éowyn is away I will take
responsibility for getting our Steward new furnishings. It will give
me a chance to spend time with him. He is still under orders to relax
is he not my husband?”
“Yes, my love, I just hope we survive our Steward’s methods
of rest and relaxation.”
The three continued into the castle. This had turned into a good day,
Aragorn mused. His Steward was such a mass of interesting layers. It
will take me a lifetime to get to know him; time I will enjoy…for
the most part. He rubbed his arms where he had been struck. Not too
high a price to pay for seeing a different side of Faramir.
The dinner table was being set in splendid fashion. The fellowship
friends were in attendance. Everyone was talking about the afternoons
sparring match between the King and Steward. The idea of Faramir taking
his own life as a result of a misunderstanding was not lost on them.
There seemed to be no other option but to love the man. His loyalty
was without equal. His bravery the stuff of legend, yet it was the “seducer
of Gondor” that still interested everyone. Pippin had been questioned
often after his disclosure. He realized he had made an error in talking
about Faramir and their special night. He had moped about the castle
until Merry convinced him to talk to Faramir.
This afternoon after the near mishap in the practice field, Pippin realized
he could not delay talking to Faramir. He only hoped the indiscretion
would not lose him a friend. It was still two hours before dinner time.
Faramir had washed and was resting after sparring with the king. He
was allowing himself a glass of wine which he always drank after a strenuous
Grey Hand session. This afternoon had been nothing if not strenuous.
He felt an unusual feeling of freedom as if a great weight had been
lifted from his shoulders.
He heard familiar footfalls in the hallway. Pippin knocked at the door.
“Faramir may I come in.”
“Certainly, Pippin, come in, what’s on your mind?”
“Well, I…don’t know where to start.”
“The beginning is always best.”
“I’m afraid…Faramir…I’m afraid you’ll
hate me.”
“Pippin I would never hate you. Come tell me what troubles you?”
Pippin looked up at Faramir with tears,
“Faramir, while you were away…I told everyone of our night
together. I’m sorry I know you’re married now. I’ve
embarrassed you.”
Faramir looked at Pippin, “So that explains the looks I’ve
been getting from Merry. Pippin I am not embarrassed to have spent a
night with you. I only hope your disclosure has not hurt your relationship
with Merry. For me, I will always cherish our night together. I feel
no shame. Do you?”
“No of course not, I only spoke up at dinner because Legolas was
saying how he could not see you ever relaxing enough to enjoy yourself.
Well, I set them straight, I told them you nearly killed me with pleasure
and…that Lady Éowyn probably left to get some rest…oh…I
forgot to tell you that other part. Now you hate me don’t you?”
Laughing, “No Pippin I still don’t hate you. Although Éowyn
might want a few words with you, she still doesn’t believe we…comforted
each other. She is interested in the…”mechanics” if
it.”
Both started chuckling, Pippin moved closer to Faramir, reaching up
to his face,
“You are the most handsomest man I’ve ever known.”
Faramir bent down” Thank you” and kissed him,
Pippin responded quickly. He moved his small hands over Faramir’s
face and moved to his neck. Quick as lightning he started to remove
Faramir’s shirt.
“Pippin, what are you doing?”
“I thought I could apologize to you…provide you some comfort…”
“Thank you my friend but now is not the time.”
“You do hate me…I knew it.”
Pippin started to cry.
“Pippin I don’t hate you, please believe me…Please
don’t cry…I can’t stand it to see you cry.”
“I’m sorry; I’ll go now…I’m so sorry Faramir.”
Faramir stopped him, “Come here.”
Slowly, he drew the hobbit into a warm embrace. He started to kiss him
slowly on the mouth, neck and shoulder. Gently removing his shirt, Pippin
purred at the movements.
“Pippin, if we do this, promise me you will believe me. I treasure
your friendship, and would rekindle the fire of it if you wish.”
“I just want to see you naked one more time, you are so beautiful.”
“You make me blush, master hobbit.”
“I haven’t started yet. And we’re in happier times,
we can enjoy it more.”
“I shall make you sing, my guard of the Citadel.”
“No, not that, everyone will hear.”
“Hush now, let us play.”
Cries of ecstasy came from the Steward’s rooms. They were high
pitched, ending in gasps. Arwen and Legolas with their elfin ears were
the only ones to hear. They were gathering in the dining room when Merry
noticed the smile on Legolas’ face.
“What is it?”
“I think Pippin is apologizing for his dinner conversation.”
“He’s what?”
“You can ask him if he survives to dinner time.”
“That rascal, I told him to go make amends to Faramir.”
“He’s making more than that from what I can hear. Oh, he’s
stopped, no there he goes again. We won’t ask him to sing tonight.”
Pippin and Faramir lay on the bed limbs entangled. The aftermath of
their quick coupling left them both languid and sated.
“Do you believe me now my Pippin, I do not hate you.”
“I believe you…I do. Éowyn is a lucky woman. So is Aragorn.”
“What did you say?”
“Oh, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Pippin…tell me.”
“Well, it’s just the way Aragorn looks at you, the way he
talks about you. You know he’s in love with you...don’t
you”
“That’s not possible, he has his lady Arwen”
“And you have Éowyn…it doesn’t stop you from loving
me does it?”
“Well, no but he’s the king, I’m just a…”
“Jewel…that’s what you are a jewel…and if anyone
says any different they’ll have me to answer to.”
Faramir kissed the face beside him.
”Pippin, you are not only a friend; today you have become my teacher.
Tonight, I talk to Aragorn. We better hurry and wash up if we’re
to make it in time for dinner.”
“I think everyone in the castle knows where I am from all the
noise you drew from me.”
Dinner time came and the conversation flowed. Grey Hand path training
came up and everyone asked about the disciplines. Faramir did not volunteer
much information. Gandalf was the one to bring up the other “skills”
the training entailed.
Legolas was curious, “What other skills besides warfare are taught?”
Oh, skills such as dancing and singing, Gandalf looked at Faramir as
he said this.
Faramir blushed, “Mithrandir, you are exceedingly helpful today.”
“Only too glad to help my friend”
Arwen asked, “You sing Faramir?”
“After a fashion my lady”
“Oh, please would you sing something for us?”
“I would love to but I don’t have anything prepared.”
“How about the song you were researching when I found you in the
library the other day.”
Aragorn had been quietly enjoying the playful teasing to which Faramir
was being subjected. Faramir looked more relaxed than he had ever seen
him. Guess, smacking the king around a few times would lighten anyone’s
mood. Gandalf volunteered his staff as a source of music.
“Faramir you know the power of my staff. It can accompany you
in any song.”
He sighed, “If all will pardon me, it has been a long time since
I raised my voice in song. I will do my best, for the queen.”
Faramir started to sing. It was accompanied by music which seemed to
come from nowhere and everywhere at once. The magic of Gandalf’s
staff was such that there seemed to be musicians floating about them
in the air.
The song was a ballad, it was Sindarin and it spoke of a love for absent
friends. Faramir’s voice rose and fell; his face took on a radiance
reflecting the emotions evoked by the song. When the song ended Arwen
was weeping.
“That was beautiful Faramir, beautiful…”
Legolas wiped tears from his eyes, “Yes indeed, Lord Faramir I
owe you an apology. Several days ago in jest I said words that might
have offended you. I ask your pardon. Your voice is a gift of the Valar.
Thank you for sharing it with us.”
“Legolas, Pippin told me of it. Be assured I took no offense.
Your brave and honest heart is matched only by your beauty.”
At this, Legolas looked at Aragorn then quickly back to Faramir.
“You have the soul of a poet and the heart of a warrior Lord Faramir.
You bless all who love you and who are loved by you.”
“Gandalf, make music with your staff for us to dance”
“Why Faramir, I don’t think I’ve seen you dance in
ages.”
“I think it’s time some of the other Grey Hand skills are
displayed, don’t you?”
“As you wish, I caution everyone, if you dance with a Grey Hand
master, you will remember it the rest of your lives.”
“Gandalf, you give too much credit.”
At this the staff glowed and the music began again. This time the rhythm
of it was pulsing and steady. There arose from nowhere an ethereal voice
that sang of movement, dancing and lovemaking. The beat was intoxicating.
Faramir rose and bowed to the king and queen. “My Lord Aragorn,
would you grant me the first dance?”
Aragorn’s face brightened in disbelief this was not the same Steward
he threatened this morning.
“I’d be delighted, my lord Steward.”
They began to dance. Their movements, slowly accelerating with the sound
of the music, were liquid. Pippin and Merry decided to join in. Frodo
and Sam joined in. Legolas asked Arwen but she declined, “Legolas,
you can dance with the king and Steward.”
On the floor the group seemed a mass of bodies slowly gyrating to hypnotic
sounds. The dance between king and Steward was erotic. Faramir hugged
Aragorn close to his body. He moved his hands over him. The music moved
them to switch places. Aragorn imitated what Faramir had just done.
Aragorn was torn between giddy delight and utter bewilderment. Aragorn
thought for sure his arousal was evident for the world to see. Legolas
joined them.
Faramir’s erection could be felt through the clothes as they danced.
When Legolas joined them, he switched places with Aragorn. Legolas blushed.
Faramir was running his hands over the elf lord’s body; nuzzling
him at the neck. The music sounded louder. Legolas looked like a rag
doll being carried about in the arms of the Steward. Legolas shuddered
when Faramir nibbled a little on his ear. The music seemed to keep pace
with Faramir’s movements. Faramir’s eyes were glazed as
if in a trance. Legolas moaned into Faramir’s ear, “My Steward,
if you weren’t spoken for I’d ravish you here and now. If
I am to maintain any control I beg you release me from the dance.”
Legolas looked spent, as he moved out of the way.
Faramir turned to look at Aragorn extending an invitation with his eyes.
Aragorn felt a rush of desire. Aragorn joined Faramir for what turned
out to be the last moments of the song. Faramir leaned into Aragorn’s
body as he whispered,
“Aragorn…I love you.”
Chapter 9 - The
garden of delight
As the music ended, the dancers moved slowly, returning to their chairs.
Only Aragorn and Faramir remained where they were.
“What did you say?”
Faramir looked away, “I’m sorry my lord, I didn’t
mean to…. Forgive me.”
“Faramir, we need to talk.”
Locking eyes, “Yes Aragorn, we do”
They moved back to the dinner table. Everyone seemed exhausted or aroused
after the dance. All began to excuse themselves for the night.
Arwen rose
“My lord Aragorn, my lord Faramir, I’ll leave you two alone,
please do not let me find you beating each other senseless. Once is
quite enough.” They both smiled at her and promised to behave.
Only Aragorn and Faramir remained in the great dining hall.
As he left, Gandalf looked back at the pair and smiled.
“Faramir…let’s go to the garden.”
“Your wish is my command my lord.”
He smiled at Aragorn letting him know he was playing at formality.
As they walked through the halls of the castle the guards nodded at
them. Aragorn took the opportunity to apologize for the mornings events.
“Faramir, I did not intend to hurt you this morning. It is the
last thing I would ever do. I just…well, I am worried about you.
When you didn’t return as scheduled it seemed all I could think
of was the danger you might be in. I know it is silly but there it is.
Do you forgive me for my harsh words?”
“My Lord, it is I who should ask your forgiveness, I have been…reticent
in speaking my thoughts to you. But no more…”
They entered the king’s private gardens. As soon as the gates
closed behind them both started to speak at the same time. “You
first Faramir”
“Aragorn… I have been a stubborn fool.”
“I won’t argue with the stubborn part, my lord Steward.”
“You are not going to make this easy for me are you?”
“No, I’m not…”
Aragorn smiled.
With a heavy sigh, “Very well…I will bare my soul to you…My
lord Aragorn…I am in love with you. I have tried my best to prevent
you from seeing this. I have not wished to add to your burdens or disrupt
the royal household, but you make it most difficult.”
“I make it difficult?”
“I don’t mean to blame you. Obviously, it is my problem,
I’m sure you have other things to worry about than a lovesick
Steward. I will accept whatever decision you make. If you wish me to
leave or resign my position I will do it. I just can’t do this
anymore.”
“What is it you can’t do anymore…my love.”
“I can’t pretend I don’t care for you. I can’t
continue to deny my feelings for you; I would do anything to be with
you. It is becoming impossible to resist your body. When I’m so
close to you day after day…I…what did you call me?”
“What do you mean... my love?”
Faramir smiled, “You called me, my love.”
“What else would I call you when that is what you are to me? Faramir,
you say you can’t resist my body, do you know the agony I have
been going through resisting yours?”
Embracing, they locked lips.
“Aragorn, I’m sorry for all the time I’ve wasted…”
“Nothing has been wasted; the sweetness of this moment is reward
enough.”
Slowly, they walked to a flower bed. They sank into the perfumed bed
and began to explore each other. Faramir’s breath caught as he
felt a hand begin to undo his shirt. Aragorn’s lips were firm
and strong. They spent time exploring each others mouths, finding access
to each others bodies. The clothes slowly fell away. Aragorn was first
to break the chorus of their soft moans. “Faramir, you are beautiful.”
“Aragorn, I’ve ached for your touch...”
Both were completely naked. They rolled on the flower bed, one getting
on top of the other, then changing positions.
“Let’s go inside, Aragorn, please, I want you in my bed
tonight. Will the queen mind?”
“I think she will be relieved we are not clubbing each other silly.”
“She is both wise and generous.”
They slowly dressed stopping to kiss and feel each other as they did.
Walking hurriedly to the Steward’s bedchamber, they almost ran
the last few steps.
“Faramir, you must not make the king sing too loudly.”
“What kind of a Steward would I be if I withheld my skills from
my king?”
“Faramir remember, I’m not a young man anymore. Your lessons
on the practice field are still fresh.”
“Aragorn, I’m so sorry about that, if I had been honest
with you that would never have happened.”
“Nonsense, it was good for me to get some exercise. You were glorious
in your display of skills.”
“Then let me use my skills to soothe the pain away…Aragorn,
you are the one I’ve waited for, the one I knew would one day
rule my heart. We both have others who love us and whom we love, but
to me you are the master of my heart. Ask of me what you will, I will
see it done.”
Aragorn’s eyes teared, “I could not have asked or dreamt
of a nobler more loving heart, I tell you now my love, you are my mate
as I am yours. No one comes between us. Love me as you will.”
“With pleasure my lord…”
Chapter 10 -
In the bedroom
In the Steward’s bed chamber both stood looking at each other.
Faramir took the lead, “My lord…I know…Aragorn…I
love the sound of your name. I have resisted saying it for fear my voice
would betray me. When you hear me say your name, remember, to me it
is the same as saying my love. Let me make this our first night together
a memory to savor.”
“Faramir my love, I am in your hands.”
“Then let me…I only ask that you stay still while I make
you sing… by doing this”
He touched his cheek. Reaching down taking Aragorn’s hands he
kissed them. Slowly he undressed his king. He drew Aragorn into an embrace
and kissed him again slowly. Their tongues dancing around each other,
only soft moans escaped. Easing into each other, Faramir began to undo
the buttons on the king’s shirt. Opening it he placed his palms
on the chest cooing. “I’ve dreamt of this.” Slowly
he ran his hands over the muscled planes of the torso. Pulling the shirt
back, he took it off completely. He moved around to stand behind and
hugged his love. From this position he was able to give his hands free
rein. Roaming over the chest, the shoulders, running his fingers through
the hair causing Aragorn to moan. “Faramir, I don’t know
if I can…you have brought me to the edge of completion.”
“I know, please let me do my work my king. I promise I won’t
tell anyone I defied your order…my lord.”
He moved his hands to undo the trousers. Aragorn stepped out of them
his erection standing out inches from Faramir’s face. As Faramir
helped him out of his pants, he knelt in front and licked the head of
the king’s member. Aragorn shuddered, Faramir remained in that
position. He reached around Aragorn’s hips and drew him forward.
Aragorn, gasped as he felt the warmth of his lover’s mouth surround
him. He began to rock into the mouth. “No movement my lord…remember
I do the work…for now.”
“Faramir, you are torturing your king…continue”
Faramir stood up; taking him by the hand leading him to the bed. Aragorn
fell on the bed rolling onto his back. Faramir looked into the blue
eyes and began to strip from the edge of the bed. He moved slowly giving
the king time to take in the sight. Removing first his shirt, his smooth
torso with slight feathering of hair shone in the light of the candles
he lit around the bed. “Faramir please”
“Patience Aragorn, you will be richly rewarded I promise.”
Aragorn couldn’t help smiling as he remembered Éowyn’s words.
“My king finds something amusing”
“I was just thinking…I’ve heard those words recently…I
must admit they had no meaning for me until now.”
The room was illuminated with candles. Aragorn’s erection had
softened slightly. Faramir moved to the bed as he took his trousers
off. He was fully naked now. “You are beautiful my Steward.”
Faramir moved onto the bed lying face to face with Aragorn. They kissed
again this time they explored each others bodies. Faramir lay on top.
He started kissing his way down the king. He nibbled at the nipples,
licked the belly button. He nuzzled his chin on the slope of the hips.
Slowly he took the now fully erect member into his mouth. Aragorn moaned,
“Oh…that feels good.”
Faramir began to make love to the king with his mouth. He slowly moved
his tongue around the shaft, making the king moan and buck. Faramir
took the member deep into the back of his throat and swallowed. The
contractions created by the throat made Aragorn cry out. “By the
Valar…”
Faramir eased off making Aragorn whimper. “Please love no more
teasing…please”
Faramir resumed his movements. Slowly then picking up speed he felt
the king swell. As the moment arrived he again took him deep into his
throat and swallowed.
”Faramir…oh…oh…”
Aragorn felt undone. He had not come like that in a long time. His breathing
began to slow after what seemed like an eternity of panting. He was
dizzy, literally dizzy, “Faramir where did you learn…don’t
tell me its part of the Grey Hand training.” They started laughing,
“Actually it is…”
Aragorn looked at him. “Surely not…you jest.”
“No my lord, the training is very…comprehensive.”
“Faramir you don’t have to train the guards of the citadel
in this technique.”
Both laughed, “As you wish my lord, I will reserve this training
for the king.”
“I think that would be best my steward. Shall we begin my training?”
“By all means”
Aragorn pulled Faramir up on the bed, kissing him as he reached the
pillow. “You are irresistible” Slowly he explored Faramir
with his mouth. He moved down the side of the neck, to the shoulders.
He licked and nibbled the nipples just as he had in the Houses of Healing.
He looked up as Faramir said,
“I remember the second time you came to heal me. I remembered
tonight while we danced. I realized then, why you kept asking. I tell
you Aragorn I nearly peaked as we danced.”
“Let me finish the job then.”
Aragorn engulfed Faramir. He heard the remembered moan and smiled. Slowly
he began moving his mouth on his lover. He stopped to lick his balls,
tickling under the globes. He resumed his ministrations, feeling for
the build up of tension.
“I’m getting close…Oh…Aragorn…my lord…”
Faramir peaked with a silence that filled the air with erotic energy.
In keeping his moans to a whisper, Faramir refueled Aragorn’s
excitement.
Moments later as the breathing calmed, “Faramir, how can you…not
make noise?”
Faramir hummed, “I love coming quietly, it allows me to slow the
moment…prolonging the pleasure. And I think it prepares us for
round two.”
“Faramir you are a jewel, but I need a few more minutes to recover.”
“I don’t think so, you seem fully…prepared…my
lord.”
“It’s not fair love, you make me sing and I can only make
you hum. I see I have a challenge on my hands.”
“No more talk of challenges please…we promised the queen.”
They were face to face; Faramir began to draw circles on the king’s
body with his fingers. He kissed the lips for which he had hungered
for so long. Aragorn was about to speak but a finger on his lips stayed
him. Faramir moved to sit on the bed beside him. He reached for a bottle
of oil on the small table next to the bed. Aragorn’s eyes widened.
Again a finger on the lips shushed him. Faramir poured oil into his
hands and rubbed them to warm them up. He spread the oil on the king’s
chest. He glided his hands over the flesh. Aragorn hummed his delight.
He brought his hands behind his head as Faramir continued. Aragorn closed
his eyes enjoying the massage starting to get sleepy.
“No you don’t, we’re not finished yet.”
“What…no I wasn’t sleeping…just enjoying your
touch.”
“Of course my lord, don’t worry in this bed you sleep when
I say you sleep.”
“Faramir what’s come over you?”
“You have my lord, at least once.”
Laughing Aragorn reached up and drew him onto his chest. Kissing and
laughing, Faramir squirmed. “I think we’re fully recovered
now.”
He grabbed Aragorn’s erection in his oil slicked hands. “Ah
Faramir, you are … unquenchable.”
“Not so my king…I’ll prove it.”
He poured more oil into his hands and slicked the king’s erection.
He rubbed some into his own opening. He sat up on the king’s hips
and reached behind him. He guided the cock to rub between his buns.
He heard Aragorn moan. “Faramir…are you sure?”
Faramir allowed his eyes to answer. He guided the cock into himself.
Letting out a slow exhale as he allowed his body to accept the sweet
intrusion, he rocked back slowly.
“Aragorn…I love you.”
He then started to rock back and forth on the king. Aragorn was beyond
speech. He arched his back as he tried to enter Faramir more fully.
He hit a sweet spot. Faramir moaned loudly. It made Aragorn smile. He
did it again with the same result. Faramir rocked faster, moaning and
whimpering.
“Yes, oh…oh…yes”
Aragorn felt the build up of tension in his lover. Faramir slowed then
stopped. “Not yet”
“Faramir what”
“Not yet, Aragorn…trust me.”
Time slowed, the moments crawled by. Faramir began again. He moved his
body with the same seductive movements as when he danced. Aragorn felt
the build up again. He did not believe he could stop this time. Faramir
threw his head back as he peaked. Shooting over Aragorn’s chest
he felt the explosion inside him as well. They peaked together. Breathing
hard he collapsed on Aragorn’s chest, keeping his lover inside
until the last minute.
“Faramir, by the Valar…you are amazing…I’ve
never…by the Valar”
“I’ve waited for you Aragorn; I’ve waited for you
my whole life.”
Tears ran down Faramir’s face. Aragorn caught them with his kisses.
“I’m here now love, I’ll always be here for you.”
Still embracing they drifted into exhausted sleep.
Chapter 11 - Morning comes
It was just before daybreak when Aragorn awoke. He found Faramir looking
at him, smiling. “Good morning my sweet Faramir, did you sleep
well?”
“Better than I have in weeks, my lord.”
“Faramir, you made our first night together a memory I’ll
forever treasure.”
“Aragorn, the night has not ended yet.”
“Faramir…you’re not serious…you want to go again?”
“Yes, my king, I want to fill our first night, with all the possibilities
we have ahead of us…would you grant me a wish? You don’t
have to if you are not ready.”
“I think I know what you would ask of me. I have not been taken
like that in many years, but I would love to have you inside me.”
Faramir kissed him hard. He sucked on the king’s tongue. He sighed,
“I love you Aragorn, I will make you reach a peak as you’ve
never experienced.”
“Faramir, you have already shown me heights I had not believed
possible.”
“No more talk then, it is time for the Steward of Gondor to get
to work.”
He slowly rolled Aragorn onto his belly. Moving down on the bed he reached
out with his tongue to touch the magic ring. Aragorn let out a cry,
but quickly muffled it in the pillow. He was determined not to wake
the castle with his singing. He did not know if he would succeed. Faramir
was a master indeed. Faramir smiled at the king’s attempt to maintain
silence. He moved in closer and began to insert his tongue deeper into
the opening. Aragorn squirmed and breathed heavily. Even through the
pillow his cries were audible driving Faramir onward. Faramir stopped
to give Aragorn a moment to catch his breath. Aragorn looked back at
him, “Faramir…please…”
He moved over Aragorn, rubbing oil on the cleft between his opening.
Aragorn tensed as the fingers neared his entrance. Faramir eased a finger
in and began a slow movement in and out. As he did, he continued to
kiss Aragorn. Lying side by side, Faramir behind the king, he rubbed
the king’s shoulder with his free hand. He ran his hand over the
chest and pinched his nipples. Aragorn slowly relaxed. Faramir began
to nibble on his ear. When he flicked his tongue into the ear Aragorn
let out a loud sigh. Faramir smiled, noting that it was the same response
Legolas exhibited. “So you and the prince of Mirkwood have a common
button?”
“No words, my Steward, no words.”
Faramir answered by whispering, “Just these…I love you.”
Wordlessly, he reached into Aragorn’s body with his eyes. He moved
up on the bed and rubbed oil on himself. He moved to rub some into Aragorn.
He raised Aragorn’s leg and slowly entered him. The hole had relaxed
considerably, still it resisted. Faramir leaned into Aragorn and nibbled
his ear. Aragorn sighed, simultaneously opening to accept his lover.
Lying side by side with Aragorn’s leg lifted to allow access,
Faramir began to make love to his king. Aragorn could not believe the
feelings he was experiencing. He felt some spot being hit by Faramir’s
cock; his whole body seemed to ring when contact was made. It was a
reaction not lost on Faramir. He aimed to hit the spot every time he
entered. He began to quicken his pace continuing to hit the king’s
magic point. Aragorn had removed his face from the pillow as he moaned
his encouragement. “Oh, Fa…ra…mir…”
Aragorn could not restrain himself; he came as Faramir sheathed himself
in his king. The contracting muscles drove Faramir’s release.
Again, they were coming simultaneously, playing a harmony with each
other’s body. After long moments their breathing quieted. Both
sighed deeply.
“Faramir, Faramir…I have no words…you are…”
“I am yours my king, there is nothing more to say.”
They greeted the morning light still embraced, kissing softly. A new
day had begun.
