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Grief and Hope (NC-17) Print

Written by Minx

21 April 2013 | 40330 words | Work in Progress

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Chapter 7

Faramir slept sparingly, discomfited by his encounter with the king. He kept thinking back too, to the fleeting touch of the king’s fingers on his bare shoulder. He held to that, as the despair of their conversation returned to him. As he had feared, the king had seen his weakness, and worse still had reminded him of how his own failures constantly impacted those around him. But he could truly not help his behaviour with Elessar. If the king would have seen the scars on his back… he did not even want to think of such a situation. How would he explain such injuries? What sort of a captain of men would the king think him, if he saw such injuries on his back? They could not pass for battle injuries, nor would he even try to do so. Only a coward would surely have such marks on his back, turning his back to the enemy. He felt his face redden from humiliation as he thought of his injuries, to be thrashed so by his own father as though he were still a child.

Denethor would surely get to hear of this though and that would only give him more reason to berate Faramir further. He curled into himself, as he remembered that they would be back in Minas Tirith in two days. He had tried not to think of it but deep inside he had hoped to exceed the expectations that the king must have from him on this journey, so far as to truly impress his king. The more he thought of it the more it mattered to him what his king thought of him. Denethor could think what he would of him, as long as the king did not. Yet, all he seemed to do was put himself down in front of his king.

He had realised that in a way Aragorn too held Boromir as the standard for his interactions with him, much as Denethor did, for it was Boromir with whom the king would have had the closest interaction. And, he suspected, feeling himself flush a little, that there had been some intimacy in their dealings, an intimacy that he did not like to think about, one that he knew was only to be expected.

Boromir was ever the attractive one. And judging by some of the reactions the king betrayed, Boromir would have won him over too, much as he did all he met. He recalled the conversation on Boromir’s lovers and felt further mortified at his reaction to Aragorn queries on himself. They were after all natural questions. He was no longer a lad and it was but expected that his marital prospects would be the subject of talk.

But he had truly not wished to speak of the subject. He felt his thoughts turn bitter as he pondered on it. Long, lonely nights with none to turn to but himself, had left him almost irritable on the issue.

Of course, many had caught his eye. There was little he could do about it though. The freedoms Boromir had been allowed as the elder and the heir had not been accorded to Faramir. It was even known to those close to Denethor that the Steward had not just been lucky that Faramir had not fathered any children, or had a train of lovers. It was ever Boromir who received the frequent liaisons with courtesans and the proposals from fathers of eligible maidens.

Faramir on the other hand had early on, in his younger days still half-lad, half-man been told distinctly in an interview that left him feeling utterly humiliated, to avoid consorting with just any maiden and to seek to assuage any needs he had through any trained courtesan who would be willing to come to his bed. Denethor would not brook any threat to the line of succession. Even after Boromir had borne a son who would be next in line for the Stewardship, Faramir’s liaisons with women were viewed with suspicion. Denethor had continued to indicate that he would tolerate no opposition to Andreth.

His affairs with other men he kept discreet, as was the custom in Gondor. It was not difficult to do so, for they were as few and short-lived as his affairs with women. His position as the younger son and a less favoured one at that ensured that there were few now who sought him out. There had been more than a few, who had tried in the past to get close to him, but as he would later realise on each occasion, it had never been for himself. On most occasions he had been used by other women and men to either get favours from Denethor or worse, to get closer to Boromir. He would believe them true in heart, falling into the trap of honeyed words and gentle touches, eagerly seeking any attention they bestowed on him, only to be pushed away once the truth of his situation with his father came out, or once they managed to get closer to Boromir. Not all his previous bedmates had borne well the knowledge of their efforts being in vain and their new awareness of his status in Denethor’s eyes only emboldened them into reacting against him in anger, or even at times with violence. This in turn had soon made him increasingly reluctant to get too close to anyone.

It shamed him at times to think of how often he had been misled so, letting his desires rule over his head, only to come out of it aching not just in his heart from the humiliation of learning that he had been used again, but even physically as well.

He felt the usual emptiness take root within him, as he drifted off into an uneasy sleep, his body still aching from the day’s exertions and his mind full of unhappy thoughts.

They woke to an overcast sky the next morning. Faramir thought rather morosely that the grey gloominess matched his own unhappy mood. He hoped it would not rain. Ithilien in the rains had always been a harrowing experience for the rangers bogged down by slippery, wet mud, fallen branches, and constantly having to wade through new rivulets.

The plan was to leave early, after a hurried meal of bread and dried meat, towards the areas Aragorn wished to cover. Faramir was glad that the king stayed away from him during the meal.

They set off through a large valley that could hold a fair sized settlement, and was well irrigated by a number of streams as well as a lake. Aragorn rode by him briefly during this time, asking him about the course of the streams and their seasonality. He found himself answering unthinkingly, glad to be able to speak of something so familiar and yet not incriminating or personal.

Faramir’s back and shoulders still ached but he ignored it as he pointed out various things to the king. There could be no better opportunity for him to push for the plans to restore Ithilien. He pointed out the possible settlement areas, the pasture lands, the rolling hillsides and flatlands where the rich, fertile soil could be used to raise enough crops to sustain the community. He even showed the trade roads.

It was a long, tiring day as they wove in and out of trees, through large, rolling meadows, up steep rises, stopping only for a brief lunch. From the top of a high cliff, Faramir pointed out the silvery road to the East, and the areas along it that could be developed, should the road trade with Harad be initiated. Aragorn and the other rangers listened to him carefully, interjecting with questions where necessary, as they tried to understand the lay of the land. Faramir spoke in quiet tones, wary at first but growing more confident and passionate as the day progressed.

The rains started in the evening as they descended the high cliff from the other side, to their camp for the night. They were to spend the night at a ranger shelter in the northern part of the forest, not far from the river bank. The building had lately been restored by the soldiers stationed at Cair Andros, for their use. From there Minas Tirith would fall barely a few hours’ ride away the next morning, and so they decided to continue through the rain, munching their supper of waybread and fruits as they rode along. It was a long route although not a very steep one, so they were able to descend without incident even though the trail was slippery. However, the incessant rain ensured that they were all fairly wet and quite cold when they reached the shelter.

The shelter was thankfully a solidly built, dry one; a stone hut tucked under a small rock overhang, protected from outside view as well as the elements by not just the rock but the surrounding trees and bushes. It consisted of a large room where the rangers could rest and a smaller small enclosure for the captain, separated from the other room by a wooden door.

Faramir had fallen back on the downward trail, and so had taken it on himself to bring up the rear. By the time he reached the entrance to the shelter, wet and shivering, most of the men had already settled in, lanterns had been lit and a wood fire begun in the large grate. Bedrolls had been spread out across the floor, near the fire. Outside, the rain continued, dripping down Faramir’s hood, into his clothes.

At the entrance, Ardahil was frowning a little as he spoke to the king, both men cradling cups of mulled wine in their hands, “It is not as large as we thought it would be,” he was saying, “But it is no matter. We have had less in the old days,” he said smiling broadly.

The king was smiling too as he shrugged off his water-sodden cloak, one-handed, “Aye,” he agreed.

“We will sleep in the outside room,” Ardahil continued, “There is enough space for us. You will have the other room of course, my lord, and perhaps Lord Faramir too, if you do not mind. There is a hearth there as well, should you need a fire later.”

“I shall sleep in the outside room as well,” Faramir blurted out, “The king must have the other room.”

The older ranger frowned again, “There will be just enough space for my men here, Lord Faramir,” he said in the tone of forced patience that Faramir often found the northerners using with him, when they forgot his past as an Ithilien ranger and remembered only his position as Steward’s son.

“I am aware of exactly how much space there is here,” he snapped out.

“Then you will be aware that it is just about adequate for the escort,” Aragorn interrupted, his tone gentle but firm, “You and I will sleep in the other room,” He spread his cloak over his arm and walked into the hut.

It was a tone that brooked no opposition, not unlike Denethor’s, Faramir realised unhappily.

“It is best we sleep early, Ardahil,” Aragorn continued, “We have had a long day and I for one am eager for an early start on the morrow. Come, Faramir,” he called, and then smirked, “Do not worry. I do not eat callow young lads such as you. Warm wine is enough for me on nights such as these.”

Faramir flushed at that, especially when he heard Ardahil hold back a laugh, but followed his king in, hurriedly grabbing the cup of warmed wine that one of the guards offered him. The men had already begun to dim the lanterns, tired from the exertions of the day. Faramir crossed quietly over to the smaller room, following the king.

He placed his saddlebags and the wine on the floor, and looked around. There were some changes since his time; the windows had been shuttered and the hearth had been enlarged to accommodate a larger fire, and a huge bed piled with rugs for cushioning had been placed in the middle. The king sat there, removing his boots, sipping slowly at the mulled wine.

Someone had place a large pile of kindling next to the hearth. The sight of it reminded Faramir that he continued to have his wet clothes on. He removed his soaked cloak and placed it on the floor to dry. He pulled his blanket out of his bag. Through the closed door and windows, the faint voices of sleepy men mingled with the sound of the rain outside.

He wished desperately that he were in the outer room, and not in such close proximity to the king, not when he was repeatedly so awkward and unsure around the man. Finding himself in an enclosed space, so close to the king, brought back to him thoughts that he tried usually to suppress.

“Faramir?” Elessar’s voice shook him out of his morose reverie.

He looked up dully, still clutching the blanket and stared around the drab room tiredly, wondering where he could spread the bedding.

“We could share the bed,” Aragorn suggested, as he noticed the younger man stare around the room, “And before you protest, it is certainly large enough for both of us. Why don’t you light the fire?”

Faramir nodded quietly, too exhausted by now to say anything and well aware that the king would override anything he said. He placed the blanket on one side of the bed, trying not to shiver as the wetness began to seep through his clothes. He moved towards the small hearth and began piling up the kindling in it, his hands shaking miserably from the cold.

“Let me do that, you drink your wine,” Elessar said impatiently after a while, as Faramir struggled with the flint, his fingers almost numb.

Faramir moved away quietly, without protest. Elessar gulped down his wine and moved towards the hearth. Faramir watched he swiftly and efficiently built up a fire. The room was soon filled with the warm glow, but Faramir found he was still cold for his clothes were still wet. He sipped at the wine slowly, and tried to keep back a grimace. It was too strong for his taste, especially after such a light supper. Ever since he had been injured, he had found he had little head for wine, whether due to the various medicinal herbs he had to take or because of the poisons that had coated the arrowhead that hit him, he was unsure. He shivered lightly as Elessar rose and shut the door.

“Perhaps you should get out of your wet clothes,” the king suggested patiently.

Faramir nodded, flustered by his own sluggishness, and moved towards his bags, in the far corner of the room. Kneeling down, he peeled his wet clothes off slowly and painfully. Although the cuts on his back had healed the skin still pulled a little. He struggled out of the tunic, and picking up his blanket, wrapped it around his bare skin swiftly, feeling intensely shy at the presence of the king in the same room. The fabric was rough and coarse against his skin and the stray pieces of straw stuck on it chafed at his sore back but he ignored the sensation, and after removing his pants, swiftly pulled on a nightshirt and dry pants over his still wet skin. He gathered the wet clothes and spread them over the floor, before rising and turning to retrieve his wine.

The king had removed his clothes too and stood completely naked, bent over to pick up the wet garments. Faramir stared at the older man’s body, all taut muscle and sinew, firm, hard lines. His gaze travelled up the strong, long legs to the taut buttocks, and he felt his mouth go dry as he stared. Aragorn turned then, giving Faramir a glimpse of his front; the flat stomach giving way to a dark mass of hair between his legs, and a pale pink length of flesh. Faramir averted his eyes swiftly, and reddening a little, sipped at his wine hurriedly, ignoring the acrid sensation it left in his throat as he gulped it all down.

Aragorn gathered up his blanket gracefully and wrapped it around himself. Noticing Faramir wore a fresh set of nightclothes, he felt suddenly discomfited to be naked under the blanket. There was little he could do however, so he shrugged and slipped into his side of the bed.

“Sleep well,” he said quietly, and blew out the lamp. Faramir mumbled a response that he could not hear.

Aragorn closed his eyes, suddenly struck by a memory of a cold, rainy night such as this on the quest, in a shelter that was far more ramshackle, on a much narrower bed, he and Boromir wrapped around each other, warmed by the sensation of bare skin on bare skin, and the fieriness coursing through their bodies as they thrust against each other. He almost rolled over towards the other man on the bed, before recollecting that it was Faramir who lay there and not Boromir. He stared at the slender figure huddled under the blankets for a few seconds, and quelled the urge to touch him, and pull him close. That was Faramir, he told himself and deliberately ignored the spark of interest that he felt towards the other man. It was only the proximity, or perhaps the wine, he should not have had so much of it, he told himself, and tried not to think back to the picture of a naked, aroused Faramir writhing in the houses of healing. Biting his lip he turned away.

Faramir quietly pulled the blanket tight around himself and inched over to the farthest edge of the bed. Despite the pile of rugs used for cushioning, the bed was hard and uncomfortable, much like the beds he had been used to in his ranger days. The wine left him with a heady yet sluggish feeling. He felt a strange tension running through him, well aware that it was the proximity to the king that caused it. He knew he felt something towards the man, but they were not feelings he wanted to think about. He curled up and closed his eyes, trying desperately to not envision the king’s naked frame as he had seen mere minutes earlier, the taut stomach, and the drops of water glistening in his nave. He was intensely aware that the man lay so close to him, completely naked, that he need only reach out his hand to touch his bare skin.

He whimpered very softly as he felt a tightness in his lower belly and his hands moved of their own accord to loosen the ties of his pants. He managed to stop himself by biting into the soft part of his thumb hard, trying to push back his feelings, and finally fell into a fitful sleep, his head heavy from the wine.

He heard the soft moan later in the night, and found himself moving on instinct towards the larger frame out of sheer alarm and worry.

“Sire,” he called out softly.

Aragorn moaned again and moved in his sleep, turning towards Faramir. He reached out a hand towards Faramir’s hip and pulled the surprised younger man closer. His other hand moved lower, slipping under the waistband of the younger man’s already loosened pants.

Faramir gasped silently as the large, rough, callused fingers came in contact with the bare skin on his stomach. The hands slipped lower, pulling his pants down as they traversed over his lower belly, ghosting over his suddenly tight groin. The pants slipped down his legs, over his buttocks, reaching his trembling thighs. He sighed softly as his aching member was exposed to the cool air of the chamber.

Their faces were close, and he could feel Elessar’s warm breath against his cheek and neck. Mingled scents of fruit wine, heather and pipeweed teased his senses. The king’s lips were at his ear, as his hands moved up to his lower back, under his tunic, just above the swell of his buttocks, cupping them.

He felt Elessar’s lips on his and reciprocated immediately, letting the king kiss him. He felt the tongue slide in between his teeth and explore the inside of his mouth. A finger slipped into the crack between his buttocks, lightly scratching the soft, sensitive skin. He moaned loudly at the sensation that he had not felt in so long, a low throaty sound, and bucked up against the taller figure, clutching at the king’s arms as Elessar’s single touch seemed to course through his entire frame.

The king’s eyes flew open at the sound.

“Faramir!” he said, and his grey eyes filled with shock, as he moved away rapidly. Faramir felt himself being pushed away, even as he took in the obvious astonishment on the king’s face, realising with dismay that he had not been the intended recipient of the king’s embrace.

“Faramir,” Aragorn repeated in shock, grabbing at a blanket and wrapping it around his naked frame, “I thought, I thought…”

Faramir scrambled off the bed, strangled gasping sobs emanating from his throat, as he grabbed at his pants with one hand and his blanket with the other.

“Forgive me,” he choked out, his slender frame shaking, as he pulled his pants up and tried to bind them, “I – I’ll sleep outside.”

Aragorn moved swiftly off the bed and reached for him, grabbing the thin frame and holding him in place, “Outside where?”

“I – I – forgive me, I should not have,”

“There is naught to forgive,” Aragorn said, still clutching the younger man hard, “If there is any who should ask it, ‘tis I. I – I – my mind was elsewhere…”

“I – I should have awoken you,” Faramir almost babbled, trying to move away again only to get his legs tangled in his blanket.

Aragorn pulled him closer at that, “And yet you didn’t,” he said almost gently, taking in Faramir’s dishevelled state, the loosened pants not hiding the still aroused state of the younger man, “For I deem you wanted it as much, nay perhaps more than I have found myself thinking of it.”

Faramir shook his head unhappily, and winced as the wine induced heaviness made itself felt.

“Lie with me,” Aragorn said suddenly, uttering the words hurriedly, “You desire it, I can tell. And I fear so do I.”

They were words Faramir ached to hear. And yet, he held back. He shouldn’t, he thought desperately. Elessar was happily married. He groaned as the king inched closer, and the heady aroma of heather mingled with pipeweed drifted back to him.

He’d felt something inside of him the moment he had woken to Elessar’s ministrations in the houses of healing. He’d opened his eyes to the king’s face and had felt immediately that this was one man for whom he would do anything he was asked. It was a feeling that had only intensified over time. He found a strange yearning in his heart when he thought of his king.

“No,” he murmured, half-heartedly, although his hands rose to touch the king’s face, fingers running over a stubbled cheek.

Aragorn stared into the flushed face of the younger man, the want clearly written in the leaden eyes and the obvious arousal. His own hardness ached, and he knew he wanted this as much as Faramir did, though it had taken him far longer to realise it. He slipped a hand around Faramir’s neck.

The younger man looked anguished and turned away from the king.

“Faramir,” Aragorn said softly, and gently but firmly turned him back, reaching for his face, running his hands down the thin cheekbones, pushing away the tunic.

Aragorn’s fingers moving gently over him were more than Faramir could bear. He turned and hurriedly covered the king’s mouth with his own. His movements felt clumsy and awkward, but, he realised suddenly, Elessar wasn’t resisting. He was returning the kiss, firmly, swiftly pushing his tongue back against Faramir’s exploring his mouth quite thoroughly.

Elessar’s hands were running over Faramir’s body, pushing under his tunic, sending off sparks of desire through the younger man. He hadn’t been touched like this in such a long while, strong fingers digging into his skin, lightly pinching, and his aching body responded immediately. He flushed in embarrassment as his hardening member bumped against the king’s hip causing the older man to glance down and smile. Hands slipped into his pants and roved his groin and backside and he almost groaned.

“Please…” He moaned, unable to say what he needed, just knowing that he needed something. He felt the king nudge him towards the bed. His legs buckled as the backs of his knees came in contact with the bed, and he fell back against the mass of rugs, gasping softly.

“Too many clothes,” Elessar murmured.

Faramir felt hands on the loosened ties of his pants and moved to help. Fingers fumbling they managed to lower the pants below his knees. The king slipped off the blanket he had wrapped around himself and even through his aching need, Faramir couldn’t help but wonder how graceful the older man was in his movements. The king was very well endowed he realised, unable to prevent a blush as he stared at erect shaft. He glanced down at his own body, flushing.

“Please,” he murmured again.

“What is it you wish me to do?” the king said softly, pushing up his tunic, and running his hands over his chest. He ran his fingers around the sensitised nipples and Faramir gasped again, as they were held and kneaded into hardness. He arched his back up into the lightly pinching hands.

“T-take me, please,” he murmured, desperately.

Need dripped from the younger man’s voice. Aragorn did not hesitate. He made Faramir roll onto his stomach, laying him down against the rugs and nudged his legs apart swiftly. He placed his hands on Faramir’s bare buttocks and parted them as Faramir moaned. The sight of the tiny, pink puckered opening above the quivering legs drove all doubts out of Aragorn’s mind. Faramir moved, rising against Aragorn’s hands, and the king felt the blood rush to his lower body.

The rugs and the wooden bed beneath were rough and cold against Faramir’s chest and stomach but he ignored the discomfort, as the king leaned over him and pushed a spit-slicked finger into him, breaching his tightness in a swift motion. He winced as the large, long finger pushed further through his resisting body. It had been long, and he had to force himself to relax as he took the finger in, deep. He breathed heavily, moaning partly from pain and partly from want. A second finger entered him soon, scissoring into him, and then another, almost too swiftly, stretching him painfully. He gritted his teeth to prevent a groan from escaping, as a burning sensation travelled through his lower back.

It had been so long since he had lain with another and been taken that it hurt almost unbearably and yet he ached for it. Breathing heavily, he stretched his legs wider, angling his hips, aching with the need to feel more inside him. His groin ached unbearably with need, and he finally moaned aloud.

Aragorn pulled his fingers out of the tight channel in one swift movement, to another despairing moan from Faramir. He positioned his erect shaft at the quivering opening. Grabbing Faramir’s hips, he entered him swiftly, pushing through the barely stretched tightness.

Faramir bit back a cry as the thick hardness pushed into him, but found himself responding to the hurried thrusts, ignoring the pain caused by the sudden stretching. He forced himself to breathe slowly, as the king continued to push through relentlessly, his hands gripping the soft skin of Faramir’s lower belly, hard. He could hear the king’s panting breaths in his ear. And then Elessar struck the right spot, and Faramir suddenly found himself keening loudly and forgetting himself to the pleasure he hadn’t experienced for so long now. He scrabbled at the rugs beneath him, trying to maintain his balance as a wave of pleasure coursed through him and arched his back, pushing back to meet the king’s thrusts moaning as the king struck again and again at the same spot deep inside him, pulling out and pushing back in repeatedly, in rapid succession. Faramir’s own groin felt unbearably tight and he let go of his grip to reach for the tightness. It seemed a mere touch was all it took as his own release spurted out, even as Elessar came inside him, filling him with the warm stickiness of his release, easing his aches. He let out a long drawn moan and fell down onto the rugs, the king still inside him. Elessar collapsed atop him and he found himself gasping slightly as the weight of the larger man pressed down on him.

The king moved after a few seconds, pulling out of him gently. He hissed slightly nevertheless and found himself groaning at the empty feeling. He felt exhausted but quite pleasantly so. His lower body was sore and sticky but he found that did not bother him much.

“Well,” the king breathed heavily, and moved off him.

Faramir sighed and rolled over onto his back, feeling almost giddy with happiness. He felt a twinge of pain run through his lower back, and the combined stickiness of his and Elessar’s release coated his buttocks and the insides of his legs, and his pants still lay around his knees but he ignored it all. He lay back there on the hard bed, panting softly. Elessar lay stretched out by his side, breathing heavily. He felt his leaden eyelids close, a sudden bout of tiredness overtaking his excited mind.

Aragorn watched the younger man drift off to sleep, his half-naked frame twisted around the bedclothes. His pants remained at his knees, the legs, buttocks, and stomach were still covered with streaks of white. He cleaned himself cursorily and then stayed awake, as his thoughts strayed to other nights such as this, with another, and even to Minas Tirith and Arwen. He thought back to Boromir again and tried not draw comparisons, reminding himself that the man lying beside him, although similar in looks to his previous lover, was most unlike him in behaviour. He tried not remember the almost loving way he and Boromir would wrestle each other into bed, and how well they melded into each other’s arms, or how different the thin, slender, needy frame of the younger felt from the hardened muscles and sinews of the elder.

After a while, he rose, sighing and opened the windows. The rain had stopped outside, and dawn was breaking out over the eastern sky.

Faramir came awake at the sound of the shutters opening, his movements slow and confused as the bedclothes and his pants twisted around him. His sleep had been short but dreamless and peaceful, and he woke feeling far better than he had in a very long time. He rose slowly, as memories from a few hours prior filtered back into his head, leaving him with a warm, pleasant feeling around his chest. He felt his body twinge in various places, and felt too the cold air on his naked groin and the dried release still stuck to his skin. But he still felt very well. He looked expectantly at the king, but Elessar was sitting with his hands around his knees staring at the open window. Faramir raised himself, ignoring the pain shooting through his sore lower body. He sat up in bed and pulled up his pants, blushing a little as he did so, glad that no one had entered the room as yet and found him in this state. As he thought so, he suddenly recollected the healing welts on his back and almost gasped aloud. Breathing slowly, he realised, the king could not have seen the more prominent scars on his back for the tunic had stayed on all night. He looked towards Elessar again.

He wanted to say so much. He’d always loved the king, he realised. Ever since he’d opened his eyes to look into the warmth of the king’s gaze, and felt the healing touch of his hands. He’d responded to his heart he realised.

Elessar looked up at him as he moved. “We should leave once the sun is up,” he said.

“Sire,” he said softly, aching to say more and suddenly realising that it was unlikely more would be said on what had happened last night.

“I-” he started helplessly.

“You wish to speak of last night,” the king said almost dispassionately.

Faramir looked up at him, worried by the bland tone, the warm and pleasant feeling beginning to dissipate now, replaced instead by a tightness around his chest.

“I should let you know first though, that I shared a fondness with Boromir that went far beyond that of friends,” the king said simply.

“Oh,” Faramir said softly, as he intertwined the corner of the blanket between his fingers.

The king loved Boromir and found Faramir inadequate.

“It has been difficult for me to forget him, and perhaps I do not really wish to. I do not know, but I do find that I have a fondness for you.”

Faramir held his breath, unsure of where this conversation headed. Would this one night be all he could have of this man whom he knew he loved? He wasn’t sure how he would react to that, and found himself holding back tears.

“I am glad for what we shared last night. I cannot have the relationship with you that I have had with others in the past,” the king said gently, “I have Arwen to consider now.”

Faramir listened dully to the words, familiar in their intent to much he had heard over the years. And how could he have forgotten the queen? What use would Elessar have for one like him.

Elessar moved closer and Faramir tried to shy away but found he couldn’t, seeking instead to move closer to the other man, afraid that this would be the last he would have of such nearness. The king reached out to touch Faramir’s cheek, the fingers soft and gentle, “But I do hope to share what we shared last night again, although I know not when. I cannot give you more than this, if you will have it,” he said, “Will you?”

“Yes,” Faramir breathed out immediately, leaning gratefully into the touch. If he could have even as little as this mere touch even once in a month he would be glad.

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78 Comment(s)

More please! It’s a lovely beginning. I’m enjoying the originality of your idea, as well as the tantalizing glimpses into Faramir’s pain.

— Laurel    Monday 7 May 2007, 3:43    #

gasp That’s it?! Please, please please. I’m loving the dynamics you’ve set up thus far. Please continue posting.

— somerset    Monday 7 May 2007, 14:41    #

Minx, you are wonderful. I’ve been a fan of yours for a while, and you do not disappoint. I can’t wait for more!

— sweet baby turtle    Monday 7 May 2007, 17:14    #

i’m hooked! more please?

— traveller    Tuesday 8 May 2007, 23:56    #

Oh, I can’t wait for more. Poor Faramir. I hope Aragorn doesn’t forget him.

— crazy kitty    Wednesday 9 May 2007, 5:21    #

I love how Minx writes Faramir stories. :) Please update Grief and Hope as soon as possible.

— Vicki    Wednesday 16 May 2007, 1:46    #

I’m loving it :)

— Ness    Wednesday 23 May 2007, 17:12    #

Poor Faramir! And the “grief” part is still building up isn’t it? Looking forward for the updates on the “hope” part!
Great writing Minx!

dream.in.a.jar    Wednesday 6 June 2007, 15:38    #

Damn you for catching me in a WIP! Interesting mix so far, especially Andreth.

— Bell Witch    Thursday 7 June 2007, 2:07    #

awwe my poor sweet faramir!hugs

— daze    Wednesday 20 June 2007, 2:23    #

Wonderful! Looking forward to the next part, hopefully soon!
You are the best!
Thanks.

— zion    Monday 25 June 2007, 12:55    #

This story is heartbreaking, I ache for Faramir and it’s like I have this constant knot in my stomach… you write his despair wonderfully, I really feel for him.

I’m really looking forward to reading the rest, I have to say.

— Mouse    Thursday 2 August 2007, 22:01    #

Thanks Mouse. I’m glad you like the fic.:)

Minx    Sunday 5 August 2007, 14:44    #

This story is absolutely wonderful! I’ve read most of your stories, Minx, and I love them all, but this one..This one is really catching me. “Walk No More In The Shadows”, with Iris, is the other one I’m really addicted to, I’ve read both of them many times..I hope you update this one soon. Again, wonderful job!

— Christine    Friday 10 August 2007, 0:21    #

Thanks a ton for such lovely words Christine) I’ll be updating very soon!

Minx    Friday 10 August 2007, 18:59    #

I would like to congratulate you on a story well done. I love the way your wrote Faramir but Denethor is something else. Can;t wait for the next chapter.

— balrog    Sunday 12 August 2007, 9:35    #

I’m absolutely adoring this story, and I’d like to congratulate you too. I’ve read a few of your stories on another site, so imagine my pleasure to come across this little treasure trove! :)
I love how you write Faramir (in this story and the others too). It’s so beautiful. I do enjoy a troubled Faramir.. aren’t we sadists? Bah… I won’t care if you don’t :)

I hope to be able to read more of this soon!!

— Chel    Sunday 18 November 2007, 22:30    #

Are you going to write more? You really, really need too. It’s really good so far; and I love the way you write about Faramir.

— Faramir's Fan    Sunday 6 January 2008, 21:12    #

thank you Faramir’s Fan:) More is in the offing, and should be up soon!

Minx    Monday 25 February 2008, 16:02    #

oh, i can’t wait for the next chapter and for aragorn to find out about faramir’s back.

— Lisa Poole    Wednesday 5 March 2008, 19:41    #

love it; so glad to see you update, have been waiting for it for so long, and i have to say it is worth.

— traveller    Thursday 6 March 2008, 22:37    #

@Lisa: Thank you for reading:) I hop eto have the next chapter up sonner than I had this one up:o) Aragorn and Faramir are sure going to have interesting times ahead!

@traveller: Thank you! And thank you for keeping up with the delay:o I’m delighted you liked it!:)

minx    Sunday 9 March 2008, 10:13    #

I’m enjoying your story very much, and am very glad to have found it. I’ve been poking about your other stories as well and I have to say you’re my favorite Faramir author around. I hope you plan on adding more to this story soon!

— Silverkit    Tuesday 25 March 2008, 3:46    #

Thank you Silverkit for such kind words! I’m delighted you liked this and the other stories as well. Hope to update soon:)

minx    Wednesday 26 March 2008, 15:51    #

I love both characters in this, and am looking forward to some tenderness between them, as I think you write those scenes so well.

— pinbot    Wednesday 16 April 2008, 21:51    #

Thank you pinbot! I’m delighted you’re enjoying the fic, and I do hope to have some reasonably tender scenes coming up some time.

minx    Sunday 27 April 2008, 11:01    #

Can’t wait until you have more for me to read. This new chapter is very well written and now I’m tensed to see what shall happen next.

— Elindil    Sunday 11 May 2008, 19:55    #

I am SO glad that there is a new chapter of this wonderful story! Thanks, I look forward to next one.

— Melogale    Tuesday 3 June 2008, 16:28    #

This latest chapter is so moving, as it captures the sadness of just how little Faramir is willing to settle for, as he doesn’t feel worthy of being loved….

— ebbingnight    Tuesday 3 June 2008, 17:21    #

I am so loving this story. More please whenever you can.

— Kelly    Tuesday 3 June 2008, 21:17    #

What a treat to have another installment by my favorite author! Normally I stay away from WIPs but this one has been irresistible. Please Minx, drop everything else you’re doing and write more!!

— Laurel    Wednesday 4 June 2008, 4:37    #

have i tell you how much i love this story? and this chapter is SO sexy! love it, more pleeeeeeeease!!!

— traveller    Thursday 5 June 2008, 16:11    #

Elindil: thank you:) I’m delighted you liked this chapter. Hope to have more up soon.

Minx    Saturday 7 June 2008, 6:08    #

Melogale: Thank you for reading! I hope to have the next chapter up quicker than this one:)

Minx    Saturday 7 June 2008, 6:11    #

ebbingnight: I’m glad that works. Faramir is indeed willing to settle for very little right now… he doesn’t feel either loved or wanted by anyone:o

Minx    Saturday 7 June 2008, 6:18    #

Kelly: thank you! I do hope to update sooner:)

Minx    Saturday 7 June 2008, 6:18    #

Laurel: thank you for reading:) I understand your relutctance to read WIPs so I really appreciate that you read this. I would love to drop everything and write more of this:)

Minx    Saturday 7 June 2008, 6:18    #

traveller: Thank you for loving this story:) I’m glad this chapter worked. hope to have more soon!

Minx    Saturday 7 June 2008, 6:21    #

I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed this story thus far…I can’t wait to see what happens when they get to ithelien (is that how you spell it?) I kinda hope Arwen doesn’t become totally pissed off, but whatever you do I’m sure it will be great!

eringobraugh007    Tuesday 1 July 2008, 5:13    #

I really liked this story, just wanted to let you know! Please continue!! :)

— Haily    Friday 5 December 2008, 5:37    #

thanks Haily. I hope to have a new chapter up soon.

— minx    Thursday 18 December 2008, 21:04    #

I love this story so much! It feels a little like it’s my birthday with each new chapter ;)
Thank you for writing this – you’re the best!

iris    Tuesday 20 January 2009, 17:10    #

As much as I like this story (and have been following it since you first started it), all the emphasis on the “grief” part of “grief and hope” is a bit depressing. Is Faramir forever going to be stuck in a cycle of depression where he is constantly reminded of his “inferiority”? Will he ever show the confidance we know he’s capable of? Will Aragorn/Arwen/anyone else be anything more than indifferent to him? Will he ever get the guts to talk back to Denethor? It’s my personal hope that you will have a positive ending to this story (however long it is ;D), but if not it’s certainly a good worst case senario if events in LOTR didn’t happen as Tolkien originally wrote them. Eagerly awaiting the next chapter!

— Chantal    Tuesday 20 January 2009, 19:01    #

Aaaargh!!!! You’re killing me! Why does Aragorn have to be such a bastard? Why is Arwen such a bitch? And poor wubbly Faramir! Come to me honey! I’ll love you! Sigh. I know you’ll get to the ‘hope’ part soon (right???), just after you finish torturing us all. Glad Arwen is going away for awhile – that’s hopeful right? My big fear is that in naming it ‘Grief and Hope,’ you didn’t make any promises. ‘Hope’ after all doesn’t equal ‘satisfaction.’ Hope can be unfounded, unfulfilled, unmet, unrealized…Please let my fears be for naught. Please?

— Vanwa Hravani    Wednesday 21 January 2009, 17:58    #

Iris: I’m truly delighted you like this:) I hope to give you birthday time again soon:))

— Minx    Thursday 22 January 2009, 19:10    #

Chantal: I’m really delighted you like this story! About the grief aspect being more, and Faramir being less confident… well, part of the thing in this AU is that Fara does not get the same opportunities here that he did otherwise. Here, he’s sort of unimportant, because he has no role really. Denethor is lready steward and he’s not even next in line right now:o But yes, he will probably evoke less indifference later down the story and have a slightly better and more hope-filled time:)

— minx    Thursday 22 January 2009, 19:12    #

Vanwa Hravani: You’ll have to queue up to hug Fara:) I think the hope will get realised a bit, just maybe not right now. Arwen may be away but these two are still very new to each other:o)
Thank you for reading:)

— Minx    Thursday 22 January 2009, 19:16    #

I really enjoy this story, and in the spirit of 5 years of this wonderful site, I thought I’d let you know. There are just oodles of feelings work into this and nothing seems as straightforward as it could be. I do hope you’ll update soon and let us know a bit more about where this story is going!

— Jo    Friday 6 March 2009, 14:05    #

Thank you Jo! Yes, nothing is as it seems here:) I’m very glad that the feelings come out, I felt it would be needed in an AU like this. I do hope to update soon, RL notwithstanding. thank you again!:)

— Minx    Sunday 8 March 2009, 10:54    #

Oh Minx, I don’t know what to say. first I would like you to know how truly in love I am with your stories. This one and Walk no more… stories are my favorite ones. I’m sure you alredy know this and I don’t think that my oppinion will matter, but you are a true writer. You have such a way with building up the tensions and nothing feels puched, everything happens for a reason, not just because. I would also like to thank you for starting this whole website, if you could call it that. hte stories that are here, and mainly yours, have helped me to see that there is still hope and also I now feel that I am aloud to cry. For the first time in almost sixteen years I am crying and it feels so strange and yet so reveling. You have made my sleepless nights easier, and the times I wake up from my nightmares I know that this stories are here to comfort me and take my minds elsewhere. I’m sure you get this types of comment all the time but I just wanted to say Thank you.

— Ingrid    Wednesday 27 May 2009, 13:12    #

I absolutely adore this fic, I hope it gets updated soon!

— Sue    Friday 26 June 2009, 13:56    #

Ingrid, Sue: thank you! I’m sorry for the delay in responding. But, yes,
I am trying to get the next chapter up as soon as I can

— Minx    Saturday 17 October 2009, 11:43    #

I, too, adore this fic and hope that it has not been forgotten.

— pinbot    Saturday 1 May 2010, 19:20    #

I, too, adore this fic and hope that it has not been forgotten.

I second that! ;)

iris    Sunday 2 May 2010, 13:45    #

Me three :)

— Ingrid    Sunday 2 May 2010, 21:24    #

Pinbot, Iris, Ingrid: Not forgotten… but I did get a little stuck last year in RL, sooo… but I am in the middle of the next chapter, so here’s hoping:)

— Minx    Monday 3 May 2010, 18:37    #

Hurray! What an amazing surprise. Thanks for the satisfying, if still very painful on Faramir’s part, update.

— pinbot    Wednesday 16 June 2010, 20:51    #

I’m echoing Pinbot’s hurray … I keep re-reading this story so I’m very excited to see an update.

— Mira Took    Thursday 17 June 2010, 7:02    #

Breaking our hearts all over again, are we? Lovely to see this update at last!

— ebbingnight    Thursday 17 June 2010, 15:53    #

Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!!

— fëawen    Thursday 17 June 2010, 19:49    #

Pibbot, Mira, Ebbingnight, Feawen: Thank you all so much for continuing to read despite my awful slowness! Poor fara is definitely going through the wringer here… hands him around for hugs and kisses

— Minx    Monday 21 June 2010, 19:07    #

More please! This is the best fanfic ever! Please don’t end it :)
I like Denethor-Faramir scenes
maybe u should write more about those two
it’s nice the way u write about how denethor torture his younger son

— A    Thursday 15 July 2010, 7:58    #

A: thank you! I’m delighted you’re liking it. there will be more Denethor-Faramir scenes, never fear:) Denethor has quite a bit he wants to say to his son!

— Minx    Monday 19 July 2010, 17:33    #

This story is wonderful! The way all of the characters interact with each other is extremely believable and the slow progression of their relationships is very realistic. I’m a little bit in love with your writing style.

I do hope you haven’t forgotten about this because I’d love to find out what happens next. :)

— Isabel    Monday 28 November 2011, 23:34    #

Isabel: I’m so sorry, I missed out o your feedback earlier. thank yoiu for your lovely words… I’m really delighted you like the way it flows. I haven’t forgotten about it, I’m just looking for a long run of quiet time :o sigh hopefully will get some soon!

Minx    Thursday 26 January 2012, 11:10    #

YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH I NEED YOU TO CONTINUE THIS. I need Aragorn to understand how he’s affecting poor Faramir, and I need Faramir to gain some closure on this whole ordeal and stand up for himself in Denethor’s presence. Please tell me that you aren’t giving up on this amazing and complex story. It’s paining me to see Faramir go through all of this.

— Fan    Saturday 26 January 2013, 2:28    #

Fan – Thank you so much for reading! I’m sooo sorry it’s been on hold for so long. I sort of reached a block on it, got stuck with other stuff in RL and then got blocked further more. It is as you say, a little complex so returning to it is taking me very long :( But I’m trying to finish it, I haven’t given up on it…. I’m hoping soon I’ll be able to unblock myself and progress. Thank you for the support…

Minx    Tuesday 29 January 2013, 14:10    #

Ooh!! “Completely smutty” is what you promised, and completely smutty is what you delivered! But it’s not just straight-up, mechanical porn smut — or at least not for F’s part. I love the bitter sweet longing; F’s so happy to get just this, but at the same time so desperate for more.
Great stuff — as always. Thank you so much for sharing!

iris    Monday 22 April 2013, 20:34    #

Tsk tsk tsk, bad Aragorn playing pranks when he´s awaited so desperately! (slap) ;) And apart from that: Beautiful work! And now I have to go thinking about the more juicy complicate parts…

— raven22372    Tuesday 23 April 2013, 9:22    #

Thanks :) I love this story. I am waitinng the next.

— katiedaly    Tuesday 23 April 2013, 15:34    #

Сan’t wait for more. For some mysterious reasons absolutely in love with your deprived and unfulfilled Faramir, though the state you are putting him in makes my heart aches. Pain is so close to pleasure:)

— LID    Thursday 25 April 2013, 10:42    #

Iris – thank you!:) I’m so glad all of that worked…:) hugs

Raven – yes, he’s baaad :) I’m very glad you liked it, and happy thinking juicy thoughts:)

Katiedaly – thank you ever so much for continuing to read despite my tardiness. i’m delighted you liked it!

LID – Thank you:) I’m glad all of that worked! It’s always nice to come across a fellow lover of deprived and unfulfilled Faramir :)

Minx    Thursday 25 April 2013, 17:22    #

Dear Minx, I first came across this site and this story several years ago, yet I never left a comment despite the way this particular work moved me and drew me in from the very first sentence. So now that I’ve happened to find this site again, I thought it was high time I actually told you how much I admire your writing and how beautifully I think you capture everything you set out to do :)

It’s been truly heartachingly wonderful to reread this and even more so to discover that since then you’ve actually written some more chapters and seem to never have entirely forgotten about this, when no doubt it must be difficult to get back into the story and its emotional frame of mind time and again. Faramir’s sorrow and tentative hope, too often quashed as not to get lost in the inevitable despair of unfulfilled longing, his grief over both his brother’s death and the seemingly ever-growing impossibility of being a family with his father and nephew, his wish to find a place – any place, really – to belong and feel secure of, the bittersweet tenderness of his observations and the perpetual struggle to not totally accept perceived shortcomings as his own, his curiosity and need to learn of other cultures and the wish to not give up – all these aspects of Faramir’s personality are quite palpable and render your portrayal of him as believable and touching and human as can possibly be done. I really enjoy that there is far more to Faramir than morose and unhappy feelings, that underneath it all he is still the scholar, the gentle soul and faithful integrity.

But Aragorn, too, is remarkably complex. It’s amazing, I think, that with these few glimpses you’ve given us we still know him to be a stern but kind ruler, a loving husband and father, a grieving friend and, of course, the ranger of old. He, too, seems so very believably human in that he succumbs to the ever-present comparison of Faramir to his dead and beloved brother, even though he still tries to see beyond that and reconcile what he sees with what Boromir told him about his brother. His bemusement at Faramir’s wish to touch and be intimate in more ways than he is used to with men also gives his character another interesting aspect. Heartbreaking as it is to feel Faramir’s resigned acceptance and his decision to be content with whatever affection Aragorn may offer him, Aragorn’s obvious different views and feelings make sense in themselves and show him to be a person still open to grow and learn.

I also appreciate how you write Denethor. It’s nice to see him as more than the stereotypical abuser. Rather, it seems indeed as if his violent and abusive behaviour towards his son stems from his own unabated grief, his inability to come to terms with everything that happened and maybe even as part of the madness the palantír stirred in him.

The last point, however, I’d like to mention, and the one which makes this story, in my opinion, even better than your character portrayals already do, is the many questions these chapters keep bringing up. What, I wonder, will be Lady Idril’s part in this? Is Denethor finally looking for a new love? Is she just a friend or will she become one more reason for Faramir to feel left out of the family? May Denethor in time even wish to remarry and want his son out of his home? Or could she be someone to bring Denethor to at least view his son in a more positive light, even if he may never come to realize his worth?

What about Arwen? What do her glances and inscrutable looks mean? Is she aware of Aragorn’s intimacy with other men? Has he told her about Boromir? Does she read both Faramir and her husband’s hearts more shrewdly than they do themselves? Does she perceive a threat? Is there perhaps more to her comments and does she, as well, wonder about the Steward’s family?

When will Andreth start to ask questions? How much does he already know? Will Faramir’s financial worries become more urgent? When will the King finally catch on to just how much wrong there is about Faramir and his father’s relationship? And what of the Northern rangers? Is there too little communication between them and their Southern kin for word to reach Aragorn just how much of a capable captain Faramir used to be? Does he even know how Faramir helping Frodo and Sam on their way in Ithilien changed the outcome of the war? So many questions … :)

So, thank you so much for writing and sharing this! This truly is one of the most compelling stories I’ve ever read and I’m really glad I remembered this site, after all.

Have a happy New Year and may the muse visit you again some time in the future, even if it may be another year from now :)

— Loreley    Monday 13 January 2014, 23:00    #

@Loreley: Thank you for taking the time to leave this review and such a detailed one at that. It really made my day to read this, and also made me wish I could be a lot more regular in updating this fic. I’m sorry to take so long to respond.

Thank you for such lovely words. I’m only too glad there were some new chapters for you to read. I have been undeniably slow on this one. I’m heartened that Faramir comes across as you have written, with his wish to find a place he belongs to and his thirst for learning. He is certainly still a scholar and in this particular story I think gentle is one word that describes him very well. It is all the more a contrast to Denethor’s anger at him.

I am extremely glad too that Aragorn comes across as complex and human. He is used to a different kind of male friendship especially when it is more sexual than platonic – one where the friend sees himself as an equal and has the same expectations out of their intimacy that Aragorn has. Faramir unfortunately enough does not quite see him as an equal – he is too overwhelmed by Aragorn’s rank and achievements and also cowed down by his perceived shortcomings. He is also cowed down by a given cultural context where he may not allow a non-platonic relationship to progress beyond a point simply because it is not the done thing. And Aragorn doesn’t really understand right now how much he means to Faramir. In my mind while Faramir has fallen headlong in love with Aragorn, Aragorn himself has not really reached a stage where he thinks of himself in love with anyone other than Arwen whom he has loved for years. Even with Boromir, while he recollects him vividly, it is more from a sense of brotherhood and the joint tribulations of their journey together. With Faramir he has no such linkages and no such experiences, but as you rightly point out he may still learn what it could be like to slowly fall in love with another person.

Denethor is indeed still coming to terms with everything. He would rather concentrate on Andreth and to him Faramir is possibly just a distraction and an unpleasant reminder of what he lost.

As to your questions, well, Lady Idril will have a brief role and may indeed steer Denethor to some direction. Arwen will have something to say of Aragorn’s intimacies in the next few chapters. Andreth is aware that there is strife, but he is young and like most young men he’s not really cognizant of what happens in the lives of others. He grieves for Boromir and misses him and he is fond of Denethor so may care of what he goes through. But with Faramir his relationship is undeveloped. I like to think Denethor involuntarily made it so, by keeping Andreth close and encouraging him to be more like Boromir and less like Faramir. Aragorn knows at the back of his mind that Faramir has once been a capable captain. But he is for now more concerned about the now. And Faramir’s injuries have reduced his physical capabilities. What Aragorn and others need to realise is that hi mental acuity for now remains strong.

I wish you a very happy new year too and thank you again greatly for your lovely review. It encourages me to be a little more diligent in getting back to this. I have been very distracted by RL but I do want to work towards finishing this. :)

Minx    Monday 20 January 2014, 9:41    #

update soon, please!!!!!!

Archivist's note: Please don't nag the authors for updates (or at least not until you've said something nice about the story first!;)). Remember they all write in their spare time. Instead, try investing some of your time into writing a nice review as a way to say thank you - that's what keeps authors motivated and inspires them to write more! For more info, see our commenting etiquette under the Rules & Help button.

— Nimrodel    Tuesday 15 April 2014, 0:20    #

More than a year later, and hello again!

Recently I’ve had some time to come back here and re-read not only this favourite but also some of your other stories. It was great to find that this story is still as emotionally captivating to me as it was the first and all the other times after I read it, when sometimes I find that I’ve changed so much that I wonder what exactly it was about a story that got me hooked. Your writing, and “Grief and Hope” in particular, however, still have the same pull they used to, perhaps even more so than before – after all, so much time has been spent wondering and asking questions and hoping Faramir might yet get the happy ending he deserves that it feels I’m more invested than I would be if I’d already had all the answers. Finding a positive side to a long time in-between updates :) Still true, though.

In comparison to your other longer works, though, I feel that this story is more balanced somehow. At least, I get the impression that all the characters are more complex here than in your other stories, making their development and substance both more believable and real to me as a reader. I’ve enjoyed all the different takes on Faramir you’ve done, yet this Faramir is “more” to me in a way than the Faramirs in your other writings. There is a very delicate subtlety in your portrayal of him that makes him more tangible and accessible. Please don’t get me wrong, I, like most of the readers on this site, love hurt/comfort stories and so don’t mind a more subdued and cowered Faramir, but I still really like the quiet strength Faramir has here, even more so than in “The King and the Ranger”. Plus, I’m a huge fan of Denethor (flaws and all, to me one of the most fascinating characters in LotR), and as I’ve said before, I like what you’ve made of him here.

So while, of course, I would love to see this story continued sometime in the future (and who doesn’t know RL taking more time than we’d like?), what you’ve written so far stands well enough on its own, and I’d like to say thanks again for sharing this much with us readers already. Some unfinished works are still so much more satsifying and moving to read than many finished stories, and as long as I can come back here and enjoy all the splendid work, I’ll be content and happy with what you’ve accomplished so far. Great work!

— Loreley    Sunday 19 April 2015, 17:52    #

At least once a year I come back to this truly wonderful, beautifully written story. Sometimes I wonder whether or not I misremember its compelling tone, fascinating characterizations or moving story line – silly me! From the very first sentence I’ve been drawn in without fail every single time. I don’t know if you still ever visit this site or read these comments, but I sincerely hope you do. Thank you so much for writing and sharing this – and for leaving it online! I hope to re-read this many times still to come :)

— Loreley    Saturday 19 October 2019, 17:46    #

In recent years I haven’t read much LotR fanfiction, but this work is one I still keep coming back to time and again … Grief and hope, indeed! And not just for Faramir, I think. Despite and because of his role, I would still love to see Denethor truly happy again as well. Although I fear that true happiness may forever elude him, after having lost his wife and his eldest son as well as, yes: his hope!, no matter that here he has a grandson to dote on, well, as far as one such as Denethor would ever dote on anyone … Arwen remains as mysterious and unreadable to me as ever in this story. Such an interesting character! Does she sense her husband’s budding curiosity and fear what may come of it? Or does it run even deeper, does she glimpse more of both Faramir’s and her husband’s thoughts and hearts than either of them do themselves? Also, I wonder, does or will Faramir ever feel guilty for – potentially – coming between his king and queen … and possibly depriving Eldarion of his parents’ happiness? As many times as I’ve read these chapters now, it has actually just this time occurred to me that, thus far, we haven’t really seen Aragorn the father here. Will Faramir soon meet his successor as Captain of the Ithilien rangers? Will his men ever play their own part in ackowledging their captain’s greatness and strong will when standing against the darkness? What will they say to their northern kin in defense of their steadfast and gentle leader? Such a long time and still so many questions keep coming :) Thank you again so much! For this lovely and bittersweet work, for the time you spent on this and, as always, for sharing it with us …

— Loreley    Monday 17 May 2021, 19:26    #

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