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Good Morning (PG) Print

Written by Eora

12 April 2011 | 780 words

Title: Good Morning
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mild slash.
Disclaimer: None of these characters or places belong to me. All written in good fun with no offence intended!

Author’s Note: A little silly something in honour of of this archive’s seventh anniversary! The drabble itself is exactly 700 words long, and there is a mention of seven in there somewhere ;) Just a little snapshot of an early morning moment; congratulations and thank you again to Iris and Minx! :)


There was one window in the hallway leading from Merethrond that framed the great rampart perfectly and Faramir leant on the sill as he often did, looking outward at the dry, bone-bleached branches of the Tree of Men. It was an image emblazoned upon every surface; painted upon banners, woven onto tunics, beaten into armour and shield. An image of Gondor, an image of men, and an image equally beaten into Faramir’s mind so as to be forever associated with all aspects of his life. His home, his duty, his love.

“We shall plant a new one.”

Faramir turned to see his King come up beside him, resting his hands upon the stone sill as Faramir had done. He fought a smile, and almost won. Aragorn squinted down at the tree, bright in the early sun.

“Indeed?” Faramir said, interest piqued. He had grown up the in the knowledge that this dead symbol was the last of its kind, and had hoped for much of his adult life that this did not mean men were as equally doomed. He knew better, now.

Aragorn looked at him. “We shall have to go on an expedition, you and I.” He grinned. “To plant a new symbol in the spring sunlight.” His fingers crept across the stonework to cover Faramir’s own, little by little. Faramir scratched his chin with his other hand, but otherwise did not move.

“A little early to be so poetic, is it not?”

Aragorn frowned, though his irrepressible grin rather spoiled the effect. “And a good morning to you too, Faramir.”

Faramir laughed and turned to his King finally, breaking the contact between their hands only to rest his own palms lightly either side of Aragorn’s waist. The King was dressed simply this day, with no tree to be found embroidered upon his chest. Faramir felt rather over-dressed in comparison. “Good morning.” He leant closer, pressing a soft kiss against Aragorn’s throat. “Happy?”

“Yes.” Aragorn said, and Faramir laughed again. A servant scuttled past, arms laden with clean linen and eyes averted. Faramir glanced at her but Aragorn paid the girl no mind. “Tell me, Faramir, will you ever cease caring what the servants think?”

“You did not grow up here.” Faramir shrugged. “But I know no-one minds now.”

“That is so.” And Aragorn lifted his hands to Faramir’s shoulders and brought their mouths together gently. The kiss was slow and seeking, warm, tender, their tongues hot and languid. Faramir shivered. He did not think he would ever tire of this.

Aragorn drew away, only slightly, and his breath was warm on Faramir’s cheek as he spoke. “I shall not let idle gossip pull us apart. How long has it been now?”

Faramir blushed; his memory for such things had long been a source of good-natured amusement to the King. “Seven months, to the day I believe. Though I have never been sure when it officially began.” He looped his arms around Aragorn’s hips, clasping his hands together at the small of his back. “You had been giving me looks for a long time before either of us acted upon them.”

“Ah, yes.” Aragorn smiled against the younger man’s cheek. “But I do believe it was you who first looked at me with those come hither eyes…”

Faramir snorted. “Let us not quarrel over the details. Shall we agree that we both were too sultry for our own good?”

The King pushed a strand of auburn behind Faramir’s ear, eyes intent on his task. “I would not go back and change things. Would you?”

“Never.”

“Good.”

That settled, they turned back to the window, with Faramir’s arm draped loosely around Aragorn’s waist, and Aragorn himself resting his hands once again on the sill. Faramir could feel his King’s warmth radiate from beneath his clothing, and resisted the urge to run his hand upwards. Another time, another place more suited to such exploration. Perhaps with less clothing.

Aragorn looked round at him quizzically, and Faramir realised belatedly that he had been saying something while he himself was dreaming.

“Sorry?”

Aragorn laughed. “I said, would it be impudent of me to tell you I love you this early in the morning?”

NB: Please do not distribute (by any means, including email) or repost this story (including translations) without the author's prior permission. [ more ]

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Thank the author

The following people read the story, enjoyed it, and would like to thank the author: minx , waterwolf , , Mel

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6 Comment(s)


NB: Comments may contain spoilers!

Cute and sweet.
It’s nice to read happy stories starring our dear Faramir.

— lille mermeid    13 April 2011, 07:26    #

Oh, this is lovely! And for the anniversary – thank you so much! Of the seven years, the last one has been the toughest by far, even to a point where I sometimes (including yesterday) thought of just quitting fan fiction altogether and pulling the plug on this site. And then you go and do something like this!
So thank you very much for this lovely story… and for restoring my faith in the fanfic community;)

Iris    13 April 2011, 08:34    #

Lille Mermeid: thank you so much! I’ve been working on some angsty stuff at the moment so it’s always a nice change to write something more light-hearted! :)

Iris: Oh no! I’d be very sad if it came to pulling the plug, though I’m quite sure you’d have your reasons, but this is such a nice place to read and post stories, and I do hope it carries on for many years yet :) Thank you so much for your kind words, and thank you again for this lovely haven for writing! And I’m beyond honoured to hear you say my silly little story restored your faith :3 Thank you!

Eora    13 April 2011, 21:32    #

Aww…this is just lovely! Thank you for such a wonderful read:)

Itt’s a very nice gift for the archive:)

Minx    14 April 2011, 16:42    #

Aaaw, this was delicious!

The tree! It´s such a beautiful image to depict Faramir´s deep emotional attachment to his home that goes much further than duty. I admit I used to think about it as “Well, so that´s the landmark of Gondor” but as you said, for these people it has a concrete meaning.

I love the way you build a microcosm of its own by sketching those little all-day scenes. Which I think is not that easy because logically they´re all set after the actual story. And the consonance between them is really palpable; how they´re adjusted to each other and yet everybody remains an independent and responsible person.

Thank you so much for sharing this! It makes me wish to sneak into the scenery and stay there for a while, cuddled up at the foot of the bed.

raven22372    20 April 2011, 19:57    #

Minx: I’m so glad you liked it! And thank you again for this lovely story haven :3

Raven: Thank you! What a lovely comment! Due to the length constraint I imposed on myself there wasn’t really any scope for expanding on the tree but I wanted to include it because it was a way to tie in Faramir’s life and duty up until this point and the duty and love he will now show for his King; both as his ruler and in other regards ;) Also, I love to read the ‘small’ stories as much as anything else, those little every day moments that pass by unrecorded but can have just as much emotion or tenderness in them :D Thank you again, I’m glad you enjoyed it!

Eora    24 April 2011, 22:17    #

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About the Author


Eora

Hello, I’m Eora :) As well as on this site I collect my writing (and general ramblings) on my journal. If you want to ask me anything you are more than welcome to comment/befriend me there :)