Faramir Fiction Archive

Family Honor (NC-17)

Written by Mcguffan

14 July 2006 | 162886 words

Chapter 3

“I am glad to be finally quit of the wizard.” Lieutenant Flyn commented quietly. Lieutenant Gildel, who was naturally taciturn and did not particularly appreciate garrulousness in his companions, only grunted. “I don’t hold with magic, black or white. There is something that doesn’t seem fair about it.” Flyn continued undeterred. “A white wizard has more in common with a black wizard than either has with us normal folk, seems to me.”

“Well, he’s gone his own way now, so you can stop fretting about it.”

“Oh, I wasn’t fretting I’m just glad he’s gone. It will make our job easier without him sniffing about. Though, if I could have my way, I’d wish that ranger were gone, too.”

“What have you got against, Strider?” Gildel asked, interested despite himself. He had been glad to have the ranger about. It was plain foolish to venture into unknown territory without some sort of guide.

“It’s hard to say precisely. There is just something about him.” At this Gildel snorted derisively which prompted Flyn to continue defensively: “Well, he’s too quiet. You never know if he’s right behind you.” Flyn broke off then and glanced behind him suddenly which caused Gildel to chuckle. “Where is he now, by the by, shouldn’t he be guiding.”

“It would be no more than justice if he were behind you.” Gildel said unsympathetically. “But you needn’t panic, he went into the forest a while back with about half dozen of the urchins yipping at his heels. I believe he meant to show them how to follow deer track.”

“Well, you see? Isn’t that odd behavior?”

“What? That the boys should want to learn a little wood craft? Or that the ranger would bother to take an hour and show them?” Gildel asked, feeling a sudden surge of annoyance. Some of the lieutenant’s fondest memories of childhood involved making a nuisance out of himself at the practice yard watching the soldiers go through drills. Several of the men had looked kindly upon the eager lad and watched with patient smiles as the boy demonstrated the drill for them using a stick in place of a spear. One of the men had even let young Gildel hold his sword. Even now, Gildel felt grateful for the time and patience those men had given him.

“I just don’t want him to forget he’s here to help us not to lead nature walks.” Flyn answered. He didn’t like Strider and he knew this dislike was not entirely reasonable but he could not help the strong feeling of antipathy the ranger inspired in him.

“You would do better to worry about why we are here. And since, as you point out, the wizard has gone his own way, now would be as good a time as any to make out a plan of action.” Gildel announced, happy to turn the conversation in a more productive direction.

“Gorm and Hilo are the best swordsmen we have here. Either one of them could win the contest and then we needn’t do anything and we’ll never earn an easier bonus.”

“Yes, both men are very skilled. It is a pity the captain forbade any of our boys to enter the competition.”

“That doesn’t matter, surely. We have our mandate.” Flyn said eyeing his partner suspiciously.

“Yes, but it would have been better had you not asked him about it then we wouldn’t have to disobey an order.”

“I wasn’t to know he wouldn’t agree. Besides, I wouldn’t worry about the captain. He’ll have his hands full talking to Khand’s grand high muckety mucks. Faramir won’t be-”

A sharp jab in the ribs cut Flyn off mid sentence and before he could retaliate he heard Gildel call out rather more loudly than was his wont. “Good afternoon, Captain.”

It had not escaped Faramir’s notice that as he approached, his two lieutenants abandoned their previous conversation and- Flyn- especially started to fidget nervously. Faramir would have liked to continue beside them for a time in hopes of easing himself into some sort of conversation. He knew that he had not managed to inspire either trust or confidence in his closest subordinates and he took this failure hard. Still now was not the time to try once again to form a connection with his men.

A few minutes ago, Strider had appeared on the path in front of him leading seven grubby but happy boys. As soon as the boys saw that they had regained the road, they dispersed in search of their families. It amused him to see Strider, grim and stern, at the head of such an odd seeming group and he smiled. Strider returned the smile and came to walk beside Faramir, though his eyes followed his erstwhile charges back to the now dwindling group of families that had latched on to the soldiers’ caravan. Faramir’s smile increased as he let his senses take in the nearness of the ranger.

“There is a village several miles ahead. The border is rather fluid but this village identifies culturally with Khand.” Strider announced in his quiet voice.

“Will our arrival trouble the villagers? How can we make sure our intentions are understood to be peaceful?” Faramir asked excitedly. This was it, his first encounter with the people he had been sent to woo. He could do it, he told himself encouragingly, he would make an excellent impression. With Strider’s help, Faramir knew he would succeed.

“It might be best to make camp a small ways away from the village proper. Then you and an attendant should seek out the mayor and tell him of your intent to go to the gathering. He will probably ask you to dinner.” Strider answered watching Faramir’s usually pale face flush with anticipation and noting how attractive the young man was in his eagerness.

“Will you come with me, Strider?” Faramir did his best to keep the pleading out of his tone but he knew he had not been entirely successful.

“Of course, if you wish it but I don’t think you will have much use for me. These villagers will be accustomed to strangers, situated as they are so near the border. I will not be able to accompany you for many of the meetings and events of the gathering and this would be a safe opportunity to learn where- if anywhere- you feel uncomfortable with the Khandrim.”

Faramir could acknowledge the wisdom of Strider’s suggestion but he had wanted his company. Not only for the extra security that the knowledge of Strider’s presence would keep him from doing anything foolish but also because the idea of going to a formal dinner at the ranger’s side was somehow thrilling. He knew it would make him sound weak but he wanted to insist on Strider’s company. The ranger had said he would go if Faramir wished it.

Strider watched the emotions play across Faramir’s face. The ranger hated to see insecurity assail the young captain. It was utterly unjustified. Faramir’s genuine eagerness not only to learn but also to honor the customs of his hosts was so clear that the villagers would find themselves completely charmed. “If you would like me to remain behind I would be glad to discuss the meeting with you afterward. I am certain everything will go well but if you observe anything that seems odd or have any sort of question that I might be able to answer then I will be all the help I can.”

“Yes, I think that is a good idea. Thank you.” Immediately the tension eased in Faramir’s face. If he made mistakes Strider would be able to tell him what he did wrong and- Faramir could not help but think- if I do well perhaps he will smile at me again. Faramir was once more all enthusiasm as he excused himself. “Your pardon, but I would like to speak to the men before we approach much nearer.”

Strider bowed farewell, employing again the strange lifting of hand to brow and lips. Faramir always wanted to ask about that particular gesture which seemed to combine both dignity and respect but he feared being intrusive and so kept silent. Faramir returned the bow, quickly clasping his hands behind his back, suddenly unsure of what to do with his hands. Trying to look composed and stately the young captain of Gondor turned from Strider toward his two lieutenants.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen.” Faramir greeted Gildel and Flyn before explaining what he wanted. The two looked embarrassed as they acknowledged his order and brought the caravan to a halt and began shooing away the near by travelers. Faramir had nothing very secret to impart but for propriety’s sake a captain should not address his troops in front of gawking wayfarers. Not that there were too many families left. Each day the number of their entourage diminished as they continued east.

The soldiers had formed up before the wagon and Faramir perceived that it was time. Quickly Faramir ran through the list of everything he wanted to say. He really didn’t like making speeches. Boromir was the one who could persuade with the force of his personality and compel with the cadence of his words. Faramir, though, had expectations of the Gondorim and it was only fair that he outline these expectations himself. He would just have to hope that the ideas were powerful enough to survive his presentation of them. Taking a deep breath, the young captain climbed up on the back of the wagon and surveyed his men.

“We will camp this evening beside a village of Khandrim. Gondor has been accustomed to looking east and seeing only an enemy. Well, you and I are going to change that. We are going to turn an enemy into a friend. A soldier’s true mission is always to profess peace and that is why we are here.”

“Right now the only thing the Khandrim know about Gondor comes from rumors and lies fostered by the dark lord. They will judge Gondor by what we do. So what will they learn? They will learn that Gondor is kind, patient, that she keeps her promises and that she does not blame the victims of Sauron’s cruelty for the dark lord’s evil.”

Faramir looked around trying to assess the reaction to his words. Had he gone overboard? Did he sound like a naïve idealist as Denethor often complained? Were they still listening? He searched the faces, making eye contact with one man after another. It was hard to say. Was he making any sort of impression?

“There will be a great deal for you to explore in this new land. Each of you will have a great many stories to share over ale back in Minas Tirith. I don’t mean to keep you all locked away in camp while I and your lieutenants enjoy the festivities.” Here Faramir smiled to show that he was attempting a light tone. “Each of you will be assigned a partner and while you are not on duty you may explore as you like but you will always stick to your partner outside of camp. I know I don’t have to tell you that we are guests in this country and that I expect everyone to render a full measure of respect to our hosts.” Faramir paused, letting his words sink in before finishing brusquely. “All right, gentlemen, we have a ways to go yet. Let’s get started.”

From where he had listened, partway between the men of Gondor and the huddled travelers, Strider watched Faramir jump down from the wagon as he finished his speech. The words had been good and well chosen and the delivery sincere. It lacked a certain polish in places but it was well done. Strider felt a great deal of pride in the young man. He suddenly found himself wishing that he could have the benefit of Faramir’s wisdom and peculiar insight in all his own decisions. Faramir was Denethor’s son, however, Strider had to remember that, surely his place was with his father and brother.

It was ridiculous to imagine that the youth would even consider speaking to him with the openness that he now displayed if he knew Strider was Aragorn. It would be a betrayal to invite greater intimacy between them. Even though, Strider found himself so much in need of the youth’s company, of his trust, of his friendship. Strider felt guilt rise in him. He had tried to explain to Gandalf how passing himself off as Strider, simple ranger of the north, or even Thorongil, soldier of fortune, was dishonest when dealing with any of the Steward’s line. Gandalf had dismissed these concerns casually insisting that even if they were valid regarding Denethor, Faramir would feel no betrayal, any more than Ecthelion would have. Strider, though, could not convince himself of that and so he resolved to be cautious.

Yet, Faramir could look so ethereally beautiful, sometimes. Strider wished the young man could be less enchanting. Faramir had a way of drawing him out of himself and the morbid contemplation of all that he must do. This was exactly what Strider/Thorongil/Estel/Aragorn wanted most, to be spared if only briefly the responsibility of making good on sixteen generations worth of unfulfilled potential. It was so good to feel safe and easy in the company of another. Even with Gandalf felt the heavy tread of destiny stalking him. With Faramir though, his instincts told him he need not be constantly on his guard. He could enjoy the world from the perspective of a young and honest heart. Strider knew, though, that despite the temptation, despite the comfort of simply being with Faramir he could not allow himself to relax his vigilance

Strider wished Gandalf had not left. It was growing ever more difficult to keep himself a safe distance from Faramir. Gandalf presence could have eased the growing longing in the ranger to seek out the young captain. Now, though, there was nothing but his own will power to keep him to his resolve and that was a commodity he had felt was in short supply lately. Strider hoped very much that the obvious attention Faramir had been paying him was attributable to the young man’s curiosity and natural courtesy. If Faramir felt anything of the bond Strider recognized as growing in himself then the ranger did not believe he would be able shield either himself or Faramir from the increasing passion in his heart.

Faramir had chosen Lieutenant Gildel to accompany him to the house of the village head-man. As always Faramir was putting on an optimistic face but he betrayed his nervousness in the flutter of his hands. Strider bid the young man farewell with gentle encouragement and to the ranger’s great pleasure his words seemed to calm the young man. At the last moment, Faramir had turned back to Strider and made him repeat his promise to meet with him after dinner. Strider agreed readily, trying to conceal the gladness he felt that Faramir should seek comfort from him.

In the meantime, Strider wanted to take the opportunity to make sure those few who were still traveling with the soldiers were settled for the evening. He did not like the idea of women and children moving east but most were returning to their homes after a particularly punishing series of orc attacks. Strider marveled at their perseverance and pitied them all greatly wishing to do all in his power to help them, even if all that amounted to was lending a sympathetic ear. Before he left the bounds of the official encampment however, he heard his name being called.

“Master Strider, may I have a moment of your time?” Lieutenant Flyn caught up to him with an ingratiating smile plastered across his face. Strider felt his skin prickle with suspicion. He would be courteous, though. He had seen how much Faramir had struggled to engage the lieutenant in a relationship that would eventually lead to trust. Strider felt he could not do otherwise than honor the young captain’s efforts by refusing to indulge his dislike of Flyn.

“Certainly.” Strider answered, looking down on Flyn from his superior height with an impassive expression that strove to be warm. “How may I serve you?”

“If you have no pressing business, I though we might chat a bit. I would like to hear more of your experiences in Khand. It cannot have been easy to adjust so well to a strange land. You must be a remarkable man.” Strider frowned at the flattery. It was so obviously forced.

“Was there anything in particular you wished to know?” Despite his pains Strider could not keep the curtness from his tone. It hardly seemed to matter though for Flyn’s feigned chumminess did not diminish.

“Nothing in particular, friend, but I bet your upcoming competition has been weighing on your mind. Will this be your first fencing match amongst the Khandrim?” Flyn had taken Strider’s arm in aid of leading him to one of the camp fires. The ranger, though, turned on him a look which caused Flyn not only to drop his arm but also to take a half pace away. It took a great deal of nerve but the unctuous smile was quickly back in place.

“It will be my first such competition.”

“You’ve seen the sort of thing before, though? You have an idea of what to expect. Do the Khandrim favor any particular style?” The questions were asked in a maddeningly jovial tone that set Strider’s teeth on edge. The ranger wanted out of this encounter but all of his signals had been ignored.

“The Khandrim employ a number of styles. If you’ll pardon me I was on my way to speak to young Dash and Tom. Their families have farms several miles south and they will be leaving our little procession tomorrow.” Strider meant this to end the talk but Flyn only chuckled.

“Ah yes, charming lads and I’m sure their glad of a little attention. Do you plan to buy your way out of the first round, then?”

“Pardon?”

“The fencing tournament, do you plan to buy your way out of the first round?”

“No.” Strider was surprised Flyn had remembered the casual mention he made the first evening that some of Khandrim were able to avoid the rigors of the tournament’s first round for a fee.

“Well, I dare say the privilege wouldn’t come cheap. Perhaps the captain would sponsor you, though. About how much would a by cost?”

“I have no interest in avoiding the first round. Good night, lieutenant.” Strider turned his back on Flyn and walked away at a steady but still rather quick pace. Strider wondered why Flyn, who had not been more than civil before, suddenly wanted to hear about the fencing competition. The situation would need watching, the ranger thought with a weary sigh.

The expression of pride which all his abundant caution could still not entirely subdue told Strider what he had already suspected: The dinner had been a great success. The ranger, though, made an inquiry for form’s sake and Faramir’s words came tripping over one another in an enthusiastic tide. Smiling to see how the typically reserved and quiet young man had suddenly become almost boyish, Strider guided Faramir towards the captain’s tent at the center of camp. He wanted to discuss the evening’s events privately, both to protect the dignity of Faramir’s command but also, he could not in honesty deny, he wished to have Faramir’s company to himself if even for a brief time.

“I used the greeting you suggested.” Faramir began his narrative after first assuring Strider that, on the whole, everything had gone quite well. “I think it surprised the assembled dignitaries. They instantly began speaking to me in a dialect of Eastron that I could not entirely follow. I answered the best I could in the dialect I had been taught and they seemed to understand me better than I understood them. After a while, we reverted to the common tongue but there was a good deal of laughter. So much so that I cannot help but think I must have accidentally said something comical by mistake and made myself ridiculous.”

“I doubt it. Your efforts to speak their language almost certainly flattered them. If you sounded a bit stilted then that probably pleased them too for Easterners take great pride in the complexity and beauty of their language. It irritates them when foreigners speak it perfectly.” Strider laughed a little remembering his own first faltering attempts to learn the language of the eastern tribes. The other hunters teased him about it mercilessly and even when he had become truly fluent he had purposefully retained an accent for fear of ruining a great source of entertainment for his fellows.

Faramir smiled happily at the reassurance and went on to describe the food before moving on to an account of the dress of the other dinner guests. Occasionally Strider offered a comment or asked a question but mostly he just listened. Faramir was quite an accomplished raconteur and he had great powers of observation. An hour passed comfortably between them before Faramir had exhausted all the details of his recent experience.

Strider watched Faramir for a while after the young man had fallen silent. The captain seemed lost to reverie and though the ranger found a certain satisfaction in studying the younger man he no longer had a legitimate excuse to remain. Sighing, Strider had half risen from the camp stool on which he had perched, words of parting rising to his lips when Faramir suddenly seemed to come alive.

“Don’t go. Stay a while, yet. There is something I have been meaning to ask.” Faramir lay a hand on Strider’s arm in gentle entreaty and there could be no mistaking the plea in his eyes.

“I have already said I will do all I can to assist you. I repeat it now.” Strider answered returning to his seat. The ranger felt a sudden increase in the tension of his body at the strange mix of need warring with fear in the young man’s expression.

“I’m afraid I may ask more than you would willingly give.” Faramir swallowed hard. “If I do will you promise to tell me `no’ and be not offended for I will not speak should I risk offending you.”

“I find it unlikely you should ask for anything that I would not willingly give but you have my promise.”

Again, Faramir swallowed. Ever since Gandalf’s departure Faramir had been mustering his courage to speak- not of his feelings, that would be taking far too many liberties- but rather of his more prosaic desires. Like an old chaperone, the wizard’s beloved but nonetheless inconvenient presence had prevented Faramir from exploring- even in his fantasies- the full measure of his growing desire for Strider. Without Gandalf’s inhibiting company, however, Faramir found he could no longer restrain himself. He would not ask Strider to love him. That was impossible. Yet, Strider might be tempted into making love to him. Faramir would never love another as he loved Strider. The thought of living his whole life never having felt the touch of his beloved seemed unendurable to the young man and yet how could he ask, how could he even hint at what he craved so badly.

Faramir had been silent now for more than a minute and Strider’s gaze had grown concerned. Finally, Faramir steeled himself and plunged ahead, reminding himself all the while that Strider was the kindest man he knew and whatever foolishness Faramir said, Strider would not punish him with coldness and disdain. “Do you have any interest in me, Strider? I mean could you ever find me the least bit attractive- physically? I- I think you are beautiful.”

Strider listened in astonishment to Faramir’s nervous confession. He watched the young man’s face in wonder as his expression seemed to say that he expected rejection, had already half accepted it and yet there remained the faintest trace of hope in his eyes. Strider, himself, had not been altogether oblivious to Faramir’s charms. He already cared deeply for the young man. He even loved him if he could bring himself to fully confront the implications of that word. He certainly found him desirable, although believing as he had that a physical attraction was completely unreciprocated it was easy for the ranger to resist that temptation. With Faramir’s confession, all that changed with the force and suddenness of a blow to his solar plexus. If Gandalf had even the faintest inkling that the young captain would develop such feelings for him then, friend or not, Strider intended to have harsh words with him.

It took only a few second for all these thoughts and more to flash through Strider’s mind but it was more than enough time for the small spark of hope in Faramir’s eyes to extinguish itself in a rush of shame. “Forgive me. I spoke foolishly. I should not have presumed-”

Strider quickly rose and took both of Faramir’s hands in his own. They were icy to the touch and the ranger held them tightly willing warmth into them. “No, Faramir. You must not apologize. I never thought to be so honored with the regard of a man as lovely and decent as yourself. I find you extraordinarily beautiful. Yet, there are obstacles before us that I think must prove insurmountable.”

Faramir’s youthful countenance had been slowly brightening like the horizon at sunrise but with Strider’s last sentence, night fell once more over his features. “You love another. I’m so sorry for not realizing it immediately. Of course, you would have someone waiting for you.” Cursing himself for the fool he knew he was, Faramir thought the honorable thing to do would be to extricate his hands from Strider’s comforting and secure grasp immediately. But shame upon misery, he could not bring himself to let go of Strider for as long as the other tolerated his touch.

Strider sighed and regarded Faramir’s bent head. It would be easy at this point to confirm the young man’s suspicion. It was as kind a way as any to thwart his advances but the vision of his beloved Arwen stopped him. He would never use his lady as a shield when in truth Elrond’s daughter had increased rather than diminished his heart’s capacity to love. No, Strider would have to be as honest as the circumstances permitted.

“There is a lady with whom I have an understanding but that was not what I referred to. Her people do not believe that exclusivity is necessarily a characteristic of… fidelity.” Strider had nearly said love but that, he felt, would have been more honesty than his heart could bear. “I have secrets, Faramir, duty forces me to keep them but were I to reveal them to you then your feelings towards me would change.”

Faramir raised his head at this. He looked puzzled. “You have secrets that would change my feelings for you? I cannot think so. Strider, and I do know that that cannot possibly be your name, I know you are a wise, good, kind, honest man. I do not care about anything else. Besides,” Here, Faramir cocked his head to the side in away that was almost coy. “I may have a secret of my own.” To Faramir’s mind this was only the truth. He loved Strider and were he to admit this fact, he knew the ranger would reject him on the belief that he would be taking advantage of the younger man if he did not.

“Do not be so quick to dismiss what I tell you, Faramir. It may be that we shall meet again under different circumstances and I could not bear to see reproach in your eyes.” This was as much as Strider could permit himself to say. The temptation of the younger man was speeding the blood through his veins. The hands in his, still cold despite his best efforts, had begun to tremble.

“I will never reproach you, nor do I think I could ever have cause to do so. Please, I…” Strider could not listen to the young captain of Gondor beg. It was too much. Taking a step forward he closed his lips over Faramir’s and kissed him.

The kiss drove every other thought but that of Strider’s nearness out of Faramir’s mind. He could hardly believe it was finally happening and how much better it was than all his imaginings. His hands were trapped between their chests as Strider wrapped one arm around his waist and the other about his shoulders. Faramir made an effort to kiss back, just enough to demonstrate his eager participation. He was completely overwhelmed by Strider and so terribly glad to be so that he trembled in the other man’s arms.

The kiss had been the longest of Faramir’s life even though it had lasted only a few seconds. When Strider broke the kiss, he still held Faramir pressed tightly against him and the young man, breathless, instantly sought his shoulder, pressing his cheek to the rough cloth of the ranger’s tunic.

“Thank you.” The words escaped seemingly without notice. The young man’s gratitude was almost painful to Strider, however, and he was glad not to have seen the emotion in Faramir’s eyes at that moment.

“What do you want to do, Faramir? What would you like?” Stride asked unable to keep himself from stroking the young man’s soft dark hair as his head lay against his chest. He could not bring himself to regret this. Having Faramir in his arms was such a wonderful, comforting feeling.

Large grey eyes peered up at him. “I would like to do whatever you wish, but if you would kiss me, too. I would like that very much.”

Strider understood as he smiled and began gently kissing around the younger man’s mouth that part of Faramir’s passivity came from his attempt to hide the awkwardness he felt. `For,’ the ranger mused, `he cannot have had many lovers.’ The other part of Faramir’s response, however, was that he genuinely trusted Strider and wanted to please him more than he sought pleasure himself. This knowledge served to increase Strider’s inherent gentleness.

“Kissing you seems an excellent suggestion.” Strider answered doing just that. Eventually, the ranger began caressing Faramir’s lips with his tongue. Already the younger man’s lips were slightly parted but his mouth opened further to invite in the probing tongue. Strider tasted some of the spices that Faramir had told him had been served at the dinner and the taste mixed with taste of the young man himself was utterly delightful.

Strider spent a long time alternating deep explorations of Faramir’s willing mouth and soft gentle kisses pressed to the young man’s jaw and neck, the ranger once again drew back to look into Faramir’s flushed face and bright eyes. “There is more I would like to try, Faramir, but first I will need your permission to remove your shirt and tunic.”

Faramir’s confidence had gradually increased to the point where he felt able to return some of Strider’s affection. It took him several moments, therefore to process the ranger’s words as he had been concentrating on the feel of rubbing his own stubbled cheek against Strider’s own bearded face. When he did finally realize what he had been asked, he gave an enthusiastic nod and, while not moving back from Strider, began looking around for the pile of blankets and cushions upon which he usually slept. Taking Strider’s hand, he led the way to his bedroll. Then with another nervous smile, he dropped to his knees and began untying the laces of his tunic.

As far as Faramir was concerned, he had already given Strider permission to do whatever he wished. The young man would not have objected if the ranger had seized him by the shoulders, torn his clothes from him and then pushed him face down upon the earth. Indeed, Faramir had already had several fantasies to that effect. It was strange but the idea of being handled roughly had never appealed to him before Strider. Despite his late night imaginings, though, Faramir was still glad to be asked. It gave him a feeling of greater participation and also a sense of reassurance that while Strider might not love him, he was not simply making use of him.

Kneeling beside Faramir on the blanket, Strider gently took over the work of undressing the younger man. When his torso had been bared, Strider looked over the slim figure with such obvious approval that Faramir smiled. “Very lovely.” The ranger commented, stroking first Faramir’s arms and then his chest and belly. The young man sighed. He felt both excited and yet also relaxed, as though he were drawing on some sort of inner peace that he had never been able to access before.

After Strider had mapped the pale, slender form before him, he turned his hands to divesting himself of his own shirt. Faramir opened his eyes after having allowed them to drift shut to better experience Strider’s touch. Hesitantly he placed his hands over Strider’s: “May I?”

“Of course.”

Faramir’s hands dexterously opened Strider’s tunic and gently tugged his shirt over his head. The ranger had the distinct impression that Faramir was being especially careful not to tug too hard or rip the old fabric. The thought made him smile. Every few seconds Faramir would pause in his work and gaze up at Strider as though he were seeking approval or making sure he still had permission for what he was doing. When Strider was finally undressed, Faramir looked up again with uncertainty.

“I would like you to touch me.” Strider encouraged, letting his own fingers ghost over the younger man’s arms.

“Will you close your eyes, please?” The whispered request caught Strider off guard and his surprised expression made Faramir blush deeply. Quickly mastering himself the ranger nodded gravely and shut his eyes.

Faramir found he was a bit more at ease knowing he would not be observed as he brought his hands up and lay them reverently on Strider’s chest. He could feel the other man’s heartbeat. Faramir took his time despite the clamoring of his own desires, to fully appreciate the look and feel of Strider. His fingers teased the dark curling hair on his chest. When he gently grazed Strider’s nipples, a small shiver ran through the ranger’s body. Moving closer, Faramir kissed Strider’s collarbone and the ranger clasped him firmly about the waist in response.

Strider opened his eyes slowly and was greeted with the sight of Faramir pressing soft kisses to his neck. The sight inspired a low moan that caused Faramir to look up at him questioningly. Unwilling to resist the opportunity the nearness of the young man’s kiss swollen lips Strider leaned down and claimed his mouth with greater force than he had shown before.

Now it was Faramir’s turn to moan. The sound fed Strider’s growing hunger and the ranger touched Faramir through his trousers, pressing the painfully confined flesh. Faramir moaned again and automatically thrust himself against Strider’s hands. Breaking the kiss Strider demanded Faramir’s acquiescence with a quick look and when it was granted by a fervent nod, the ranger peeled Faramir’s trousers down his hips. Gasping, Faramir assisted as best he could. He might have been embarrassed to be displaying himself so but need overrode embarrassment and when Strider closed his erection in a tight fist his whole body trembled.

“Lie down, Sweetheart.” The ranger commanded in a husky whisper. Faramir obeyed instantly trying to stifle the whimpers bubbling from his throat. Soon Faramir’s legs were pinned by Strider’s chest. The older man tugged gently on Faramir’s arousal before a calloused thumb brushed over the tip. The young captain could no longer restrain the almost animal like noises that erupted from him. He felt tears in his eyes. Then the ranger’s hand abandoned his penis, searching behind the painfully hard organ and stroking Faramir’s testicles. In the next second, Faramir was wrapped in wet heat. He was unable to stop himself, with a strangled cry, the young man climaxed, spilling himself helplessly into Strider’s mouth.

Faramir felt exhausted, his breath was still coming hard and his heart felt as though it might beat out of his chest but even so, he had never felt such an explosion of pleasure. He was in raptures, at one with the universe. He felt no fear or anxiety, only bliss. Eventually, though, Faramir became aware of the sweat cooling on his neck and forehead. He realized that Strider was stroking his hair and watching him with an amused smile. `He hardly needed to touch me and yet I have never felt so perfect.’ Faramir thought raising a hand in an attempt to touch Strider.

“What should I do now?” Faramir asked, his energy slowly returning to him. He could not help but feel a slight nervousness return. He knew he could not return a degree of pleasure even close to what he had just experienced.

After kissing Faramir thoroughly, letting the younger man taste himself on his tongue, Strider moved back and stripped off his own trousers. Faramir watched in fascination. The tip was already dripping and Faramir was overwhelmed with the desire to touch and taste and then finally to feel Strider boring slowly into him. Reaching out, Faramir brushed the ranger’s erection with his fingertips causing the older man to hiss at so brief and light a touch. Faramir moved forward intending to use his mouth as best he could to please Strider but the ranger pressed a hand to his shoulder, stopping him.

“I want to feel your hand around me, Faramir. Is that all right?” The ranger’s voice was even lower and more gravely than usual.

Faramir knew an instant of disappointment that he would not immediately be able to taste Strider but this was quickly assuaged as he wrapped his hands around the ranger’s thick erection. He could feel the burning heat of the blood beating just beneath the silky skin. The rigid, unbendable hardness of the other man enthralled him. In some ways, Strider felt as Faramir did whenever he stroked himself but he also felt different in a way that was hard to describe. After a moment Strider put his hand over Faramir’s and began to guide it, showing the younger man how much pressure and speed the ranger wanted. Faramir learned quickly and Strider’s hand fell away to clutch a near by cushion.

Faramir watched Strider’s face as he pleasured him. He had thought the ranger beautiful before but seeing his half-lidded eyes gaze at him through a thick fringe of lashes while a bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face was beyond anything Faramir could have imagined. After a while, Strider’s breath hitched and pearly white liquid shot from his penis and covered his stomach. Quickly while the ranger was still recovering himself, Faramir bent forward and began lapping Strider’s stomach savoring as he did so the unique taste of the ranger. When he was done, Strider held him and for a short time they caressed and petted one another.

“It has grown quite late, Faramir. I should go. It would be better if no one knows what has happened.” After this declaration, Strider offered the younger man a kiss that was gratefully accepted. Strider dressed and Faramir put on his trousers but did not bother with his shirt. When Strider was ready, he turned to kiss Faramir once more but when he rose to leave Faramir did not release his hand.

“Strider?”

“Yes?” The ranger bent down once more to listen to whatever the younger man had to say.

“Why… why didn’t you want me?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Why didn’t you take me or… or at least let me use my mouth to please you?” The question had obviously not been easy to ask and it left the ranger utterly stunned.

“Faramir, this was our first time together. I want to learn your body and I want you to learn mine. There will be time enough later, surely. Believe me when I tell you that you are infinitely desirable but I do not want to be precipitate or to take a risk of hurting you. Did you not wish to do this again?” The ranger seemed more puzzled than anything else, but once again Faramir flushed a deep red.

“Of course, I want that. I… I thought… I thought you would not want anything but this one time. Yes, please come back. I’m sorry you must think I’m very stupid.”

Strider kissed Faramir, a long gentle kiss. “I think you are charming and sweet and very beautiful. As much as our different duties and your inclination permit I want to be with you.”

This time when Strider rose to leave, Faramir was able to smile and wish him a good evening, all the while repeating to himself the older man’s promise that he would come back and hold Faramir again.

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