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If you can't see me as who I am, then why bother? (NC-17) Print

Written by Laivindur

22 April 2012 | 74699 words | Work in Progress

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Title: If you can’t see me as who I am, then why bother?
Author: Laivindur
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Faramir & Boromir
Warnings: Brotherxbrother. Violence.
Summary: Boromir is striving with his emotions for his beloved little one, and Faramir is pondering on his brother getting queerer and queerer by the years. Faramir also strives with new emotions that happens to be the only thing he seems to never find answer to. By the time he does, after getting back from Rohan, another problem shows; his father.

Feedback: Would be nice :) And I sure could use a beta reader.

In this story the looks of the characters of Tolkien is taken from the movie version, but most of the happenings are taken from the book. I try to follow the lore as much as I can…And I see now that I have mistaken the actual distance between Osgiliath and Minas Thirit. I thought it was way more distance between them.. please imagine that when reading about them so things seem at least a bit logical x3


Chapter 1

Dust twirled as Faramir sled his hand melancholic at the cold and dusty stone sill, but the actual amount of dust got revealed by the cool moonlight which shun through the window that late night in Minas Tirith. His father the Steward had not cared to make sure his dormitory was tidy for his return after two years of training in Rohan, and it showed. Faramir could smell the dry dust filling every surface in the room, and kept his breath to avoid intrusion on his lungs while turning away. He was tired after the journey, and had left the feast earlier to get to bed. He hadn’t cared to light any candles. With a constrained breath, he noticed the weight on his shoulders returning after two years absence.

His sorrow took the all too well known grip on his heart, and the anxiety on his soul. He felt so misplaced, and wished he could stay longer in Rohan. He thought of poor Éomer and Éowyn who lost their father right before he had gone, and the devastated face of their mother Theodwyn still loaded Faramir’s condolence. He wished he could stay longer in Rohan to return the kindness he’d been blessed with.

Faramir understood that Théodred, who he’d become close to almost like a second brother, chose to stay with his family and friends in the mourning process than to escort him home.
To find his room cold and dirty was no surprise to Faramir, but he didn’t think for even a second that he would take it like this. But then again, it wasn’t just the room; it was the two years of joy and excitement, his hunger for knowledge and exploration had been contented every day, he had fellow men he could discuss nature, history, literature, warfare, and even feelings with, all of this: gone.

The distance between Rohan and Gondor wasn’t a common tiring passage, but for Faramir the road back to Gondor was always the heaviest. The lump inside him couldn’t find a soothing place to settle down, and it made the young boy almost loose his mind as he failed to acclimate back to his old life; to sit perfectly still in silence, and do as told, to accept Denethor’s disapproval and dismay towards him, and to stand in the shadow of his elder brothers glory. Even though many would have thought Faramir jealous of Boromir, he was far from it. He felt pride for his brother, and did not blame him. He always wondered why he wasn’t loved as he always tried to please his father. But it was hard to please him and at the same time be true to himself and heart. He would help anyone out of joy, but his father he served desperately.

The few times his own matters were to be exposed from his mouth, whether it would be at dinner or at a regular conversation, Denethor would make sure he got back into his place where he meant he belonged, in the shadows. The loneliness who struck on the youngest steward made the lump jump from his belly and up to his throat to press out the forgotten sorrow. He would always summon just enough spirit and strength to withstand and adjust back to this life or whatever it was, but sometimes his strength alone just wasn’t enough.

His chest tightened and made him fall on his knees with his arms folding his aching heart. This was going to be his life, to surrender into the shadows and do mostly what his heart told him not to. He made a whimper and began to succumb to the pain that desperately needed attention. A single tear snuck its way through and made its way down to his stubbles, but as the door opened, Faramir hurried back up and sniffled while hiding his tear on his sleeve. Boromir’s voice lit up and warmed the room along with the light from the hallway “Faramir, what are you doing in here?”

Faramir cleared his throat “I was heading for bed”. He got himself together and took a deep breath. Boromir started to walk towards his little brother after he shut the door silently, and the yellow light from the hallway changed back into the blue moonlight. Faramir took a few steps towards the night table out of the moonlight as he needed a bit more time to hide his feelings. As his elder brother rounded the bed with a minor concerned expression, Faramir sled his hand quickly across the night table while distracting the ongoing scene “The room is filthy.”
Boromir answered as he stopped two feet away where the blue light shone on the mighty warrior “Yes, I felt the air was a bit thick in here.” He looked around the room to delay any more conversation, but when his gaze stopped at the moon and got dazzled by its fair appearance and memoirs of their mother, he looked once again concerned at his little one who did not face him.

Boromir had given his mother a promise on her day of death; he’d sworn to protect Faramir, but he never felt he abided his promise, especially not the part when words were needed. This felt awkward for Boromir, and luckily for him, Faramir felt he’d been turned away from his brother far too long, and made his way around. Even though the moonlight was beautiful on the curly haired youth, and even though he smiled, Boromir could see that something was troubling his beloved little one. He knew it was their father who made Faramir so, himself was troubled by it too, but wouldn’t dare to come between them in fright of loosing what Faramir never got.

Boromir had been so happy when his little one had returned, and wouldn’t think of nothing more than to please his brother and best friend. The older brother gave his little one the big smile only Boromir could make and gave him a hug ”It’s so good to have you back, little brother.”

Faramir disappeared in his older brother’s arms and chest, and after realizing he wasn’t receiving a brotherly throw on the ground or head rubbing, he placed his arms gently around Boromir’s waist and sighed in security. Faramir’s troubles were easier to let go of when Boromir was around, and he reminded himself that he wasn’t that alone as he’d felt awhile ago. Boromir’s words felt as good as the hug “You can sleep at my place until your room is cleaned.” Faramir drew away from the hug and looked at his serious brother. Faramir’s grey clear eyes smiled at Boromir.

Boromir felt his heart jump “I mean; you do whatever you like. I’m sure there are lots of other beds…rooms you can…” Boromir noticed he’d been speaking quite fast and had to swallow a lump in his throat before catching up with his breath.
“Thank you Boromir. I’d like to share room with you. We have so much to talk about. We haven’t got that much time to do so after my homecoming.” Boromir’s relieved smile made Faramir smile both inward and outward. “Come then, let’s get out of this room”.


As children they’d shared chambers, but as Boromir had grown he’d been given one for his own. At first, both Boromir and Faramir felt the change too silent and cold, but as good princes they’d accustomed to it. Once in a while though, Faramir would sneak in to his Brother’s den, and to Boromir’s hidden worries he’d crawl next to him under the quilts.
It had made the older brother lie straight and nervous with all the resistance he could manage until the sleep finally caught him. And the times he would wake up embracing his little brother quite intimate, he worried if his brother would awake too and respond with suspect and revulsion, but when his little one kept lying silent and safe in his arms, he’d finally let go, feeling ashamed of his wishes and thoughts.
Their staying up late at night had been like entering a different world and a relief from their daily chores. There was so much they’d learned from each other those nights.

Boromir mostly stood for the teaching and talking. But sometimes the eldest brother would be fascinated by what the little boy knew or thought of. Faramir would tease and laugh at Boromir whenever he’d let himself be silenced. Even Denethor had trouble once in a while making Boromir silent. After Faramir had reached his puberty it wasn’t just Faramir’s mind that Boromir grew fascination for. One day when the two had sparred together, Boromir could not help himself but being distracted by some mysterious trembling in his arms as he watched his swift and gracious brother swinging and skipping about while defending himself from his older and stronger brother.

Faramir only thought that finally his brother had noticed his fencing potential, and would only smirk and act boastful while watching his astonished brother, what actually didn’t help on the eldest brother’s frustration. Mostly Boromir wasn’t the boy who sat still and thought things through before acting, but this feeling he had for Faramir, made him retreat to his deepest mind, and wonder.
As Boromir grew older, he’d eventually find answers and knowing, or perhaps just accepting, what these feelings were, but receded from them.

He was afraid that he’d one day let his feelings go too far and say or do something that would make Faramir know. Luckily, Boromir’s worries could be laid at rest for some while since Faramir’s innocence shone through him like a bright sunny sky through a clear new washed window. And Boromir never felt Faramir fear him either when he’d caress him, hug him, or approach him maybe a bit too close for a brother to be.
His worry grew when he realized Faramir’s mind sharpened and his expression turned more serious as time went by. Faramir began to read people and situations better, just like their father, and the two of them had often mind wars between them with no one else noticing.

He discovered that after many times where Faramir would burst out, either in words against a person, mostly their father, or by leaving the room, leaving Boromir and probably a few others in confusion. Boromir’s fear of doing or saying something stupid grew bigger as Faramir’s both beauty and cleverness grew day by day. But then, at an age of 17, Faramir got sent away to Rohan. Now he’d been gone for two years, and he’d struck Boromir with both fright and joy.


Faramir grabbed his bag before following Boromir out to the bright hallway where the sound of the late feast still lingered. They walked longer into the hallways away from the great hall. Sounds and smells of ail and meat, along with laughing and shouting men were warming to both boys. Faramir hadn’t felt at his place by Denethor’s searching eyes, so he’d left early. To Denethor, his son had changed and he simply tried to figure him out, but the young lord thought of it as nerve wrecking. They’d probably go on with the feast way longer than expected.
As Faramir followed his brother, he thought how small and almost insignificant he seemed to the broader and taller older man. He had meant that he had grown much and had become a man of his own back in Rohan, but being near Boromir he felt like a child once again.

“Boromir?” Faramir’s voice and appearance seemed small alongside the walls, and Boromir loved to hear his innocent brother’s voice pounce on them again. He didn’t answer as he did not want the sweet sound of his little one’s voice to be broken by his rough one.

“It’s alright if you want to go back to the feast. I understand, and I am quite tired, and we have many days ahead to talk.” Faramir finished as they rounded the last corner to Boromir’s room.

The sounds from the feast disappeared and got replaced by Boromir’s keys that jingled as he unlocked the door, and after he unlocked it, he looked at Faramir who stood still waiting for an answer. Boromir shook his head slowly with a smile “Always thinking of others. No, I do not wish to let you fall asleep alone your first night at home. Besides, I will only think of you and be missing you. Thinking that you’re lying in my bed and I’m spending time with men I’ve spent every hour with for several weeks?”

Boromir laughed short and continued “Nay, little brother. Even though I have to sit and watch you read I’d still be with you on this hour. You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”
Faramir dropped his glance to the ground and smiled before he again looked at Boromir who leant against the giant door.

He nodded his head to the room for Faramir to enter as he opened the door for him. Boromir’s dormitory was way different then Faramir’s; instead of papers and books all over the place, light garment, thin beams, and light wooden furniture’s, there was only one book on his heavy and dark desk. The rest of the inventory were thick curtains, a heavy door to his bath place, heavy quilts on his bed, a strong dark wooden chair and the same dark pattern on a chest probably filled with Boromir’s equipments for war, and dark and strong colors of red and green roamed the room. Even though the sight had much to say, a blind man could understand this was Boromir’s room. It wasn’t just the sight of things that made this masculine room the way it was, the smell was manly too. Faramir wondered how that could occur and smiled as he saw how happy Boromir was when he walked into the middle of the room on the carpet after closing the door.

To finally get to step inside this secret palace belonging to his elder sibling once again made Faramir’s heart beat in pride. His respect for Boromir jumped in front of the line at the sight of the giant chest standing beside the fireplace. There was green painting at the edges on the dark wooden craft, and the white tree in the middle sparkled. Faramir tossed his bag in the one corner and looked through it. As Boromir came out from his bath place he got startled by the sight of Faramir. He had taken of his shirts, and was looking for the opening in his night shirt who hung dark blue and silver in front of him. Boromir noticed new muscles on his younger brothers well formed body.

Boromir had to think twice to reckon this was his little brother, and not some strange very well grown youth, waiting for him to…The startled and nervous man shook his head rapidly and tossed his dirty thoughts away. The two candles he’d light in the room didn’t reveal a secret long kept on Faramir’s body just yet, it was only when he came closer he noticed. Three dark lines covered Faramir’s back and Boromir frowned at the sight. Was this? When Boromir came closer, he just got to see more but weaker scars on the smooth back before Faramir pulled the fabric down. He had noticed his brother’s appearance a bit too late and turned with wariness. “What happened in Rohan? Did they hurt you?” Fast forward as always with Boromir.

Faramir closed his eyes and damned himself for turning his naked back at his brother. “Blast it! Who did it? On what purpose? I swear I’ll…” “Boromir!” Faramir made his brother silent “This didn’t happen in Rohan” He spoke silent and sensed his father’s chagrin over Rohan through his brother “This happened way back in time, it’s nothing to worry about. It doesn’t matter.”

Boromir wasn’t pleased “How? I don’t understand. You do nothing that demands such treatment. A noble sane can’t have done this. Have you encountered the woodland orcs?” Denethor’s cold face blinked in Faramir’s mind “Boromir, please!” Faramir kept on a bit calmer “No, this hasn’t been done by orcs. As I said, this happened a long time ago. Please, let it go” Watching his elder brothers look he knew this was not contenting his obstinacy.

Faramir panicked “I…The…” For so long Faramir had tried to keep this from Boromir. That one time when Faramir had opposed his father to the outmost in desperate need of answers and recognition he’d been yelling and screaming towards the steward. Faramir’s screams hadn’t ended that night.

Faramir never wanted to lie to his brother, and felt sick just by thinking of it. He couldn’t tell him Denethor carried the guilt of his scars. He was already reason enough for Denethor to hate him then making his beloved firstborn against him. He thought of a lie where he could have been doing something in Rohan to deserve these marks, but then he already told him it didn’t happen in Rohan.

“Faramir, tell me!” “Alright!” Faramir yelled so loud it startled both him and Boromir. In regard of his temper, he managed to lower his voice “I…I lost my guard when some woodland orcs attacked me in the wild” Faramir damned himself. Couldn’t he find something better to tell? Nevertheless, he had to go on with this absurd lie

“They did whatever they pleased and left me to die among the trees”. Faramir’s heart felt like it would jump right out and scream this was a lie. Of course it was a lie. Barely half of the story made sense.

Boromir looked even more confused, but when he pictured poor Faramir under the whips of the foul creatures, he locked his arms around him, as if to protect him from further harm.

He held the smaller body tighter. He never could imagine Faramir would endure such pain “You told me the orcs didn’t do it.”

“I know. I lied. I was too embarrassed to tell you. I don’t want you to think of me as a child anymore.” Boromir could feel Faramir twitch a bit in his arms, and his lips formed a minimal smile of his brother’s last words. Over Faramir’s shoulder Boromir spoke “I don’t. I think you’ve grown little brother. I see it. You have matured.”
A wave of esteem filled within the younger brother and he smiled. When Boromir pulled away from the hug with a firm grip on Faramir’s shoulders, it was the serious protective brother who showed “You say they left you to die, how did you ever manage to get home? And exactly how long ago did this happen? You never travelled to the woods before you went to Rohan. Did you?”

Faramir gave him a foxy tired smile and Boromir looked more surprised than ever. That Faramir had gone out wasn’t a lie, but nothing bad had occurred to the young boy at that time. He was sure to keep away from wherever and whenever the foul orcs would appear. Pride filled Boromir thinking his younger brother was just as fierce as himself.

“You cunning bamboozle” Faramir took a step back and stopped Boromir’s attempt to bend him to the ground. Faramir did quite a good defense as the wrestle fight went over to the soft carpet before the hearth. Boromir made his wrestling to tickling, which left him on top of his hilariously laughing little brother. He’d always fall right on the floor to yield whenever Boromir hit the right spot. Faramir’s cry in laughter made it impossible for him to tell Boromir he yielded though, and Boromir knew Faramir was unable to speak at this rate. He too laughed while frilling Faramir’s shirt in the fierce tickle “Do you yield? What? I can’t hear you. You must speak clearer my friend.”

They both laughed, and Faramir tried with all his might to get Boromir off him. He still had things to tell him; that he’d better not tell anyone about his encounter with the orcs. He was afraid Boromir would brag about his brother surviving, and boast about him on pure lies, but everything about the lie and the tense between them disappeared with the laughter. Boromir wasn’t going to tell anyway, even though he thought it stupid; having an unarmed approach with a pack of orcs and survive was the opposite of being taken as weak and childish.

But Boromir knew Faramir’s desperate need of being perfect, and would not speak of the incident with the orcs. Boromir burst out in laughter by the twisted face of his little one and sat back. While Boromir watched Faramir moan and gasp for air to get back to his senses, the trembling feeling showed up in his veins and made him rise up and retreat. Faramir sat up knowing something was wrong.

He wanted to ask, but couldn’t get himself to do it. He never would have known what was going on in his brother’s mind, even though he had theories. Faramir rose to his feet “Will you tell me a story, brother?” Boromir stopped on his way to the bath place. The youngling continued “It can be anything you want”. Without turning, Boromir asked gloomy “Do you want me to tell you a bedtime story?”

Faramir felt the earlier esteem sink to the ground when Boromir had turned with that cocky smile of his, and when he saw Faramir’s puppy eyes he burst out in a laugh. The younger man felt a tinge of insult and tightened his mouth while watching his brother approach
“Oh come on, little brother. Don’t worry. I tell bedtime stories to the men all the time. One gets never too old for bedtime stories.” Faramir declined Boromir’s attempt of a hug

“Did you mean what you said earlier? About me growing more mature?” Boromir felt stupid and mean while perceiving his serious brother. He finally understood at the new look on his brother; he wanted to be accepted as a man. He could no longer pretend that his little one would always be his little one. There was no way he could avoid Faramir’s determined expression, and he looked Faramir deep and firmly in the eyes “Yes, I meant it. I’m sorry for the tease. I guess it’s hard for me to realize just yet. But I will get used to it.” As Faramir gave him the most delightful smile in all of Gondor, he laughed “I’m afraid it’ll take a while though.”

A short bubbling laughter left Boromir’s lungs before he tightened his lips to avoid more laughter. Not to spoil his point, he made it to seriousness once again and gave Faramir a confirming smile with a thud on the shoulder. He turned to enter the bath place.

The older brother decided to fulfill his brother’s wish not to be taken as a “child”, and was happy of Faramir’s wish to be a man; he only hoped their father would see, just as clear as he; that their little one had grown up. Faramir looked forward to show Boromir how mature he’d become, but it would take time.

The evening went on just perfect with both of them sitting on the bed talking. Eventually the excitement of their storytelling would lead to Boromir jumping out of bed and act out the stories. Faramir could see his thirteen year old brother in this body of 24 as he acted out his battles and stories. They showed each other techniques and waved with both feet and arms to assist and soon they both became children.

Boromir was glad that he could talk to his younger brother about things he before could not. But still there were things he yet not could speak of. Faramir told his brother a few stories from his stay in Rohan, in between Boromir’s both critical and proud annotations about the land of Rohan, the people and the culture.
They both straightened their backs, and glimpses approached in their eyes as they went on about the Rohirrim.

After hours of conversation, Faramir had gone tired and left the talking to his brother; he went on and on with both tales and brags about his journeys and battles. After Faramir had patiently listened for a while, they both went silent, and the candle on Faramir’s side on the night table had almost burnt down.

The golden goblet with the white candle shone along with Faramir’s reddish-blonde hair, and his grey eyes almost closing in. He would have fallen asleep in Boromir’s red sheets, if not wakened by him when his mighty upper body leant over him. Boromir’s muscular right arm used for support right next to his shoulder broke the tranquil.

With Boromir this close, his first thoughts would be he was setting up for a hug or a second wrestle fight. Under the circumstances it would be unsuitable and weird, and Faramir subsided into the pillow while his whole body tensed at the sight of this splendid battered upper body.
A wave of heat turned up in Faramir’s cheeks at the baffling sight, but when his view panned to Boromir’s strong left arm who stretched out of the bed, he realized Boromir was striving to cut the light out. Boromir had to stretch over Faramir to do so, and his attempt not to interfere with his younger brother’s personal space, of different reasons, had failed.
Boromir took a quick glance at Faramir before trying at the light once more “I’m sorry Faramir, I didn’t want to wake you”. In the hurried glance he’d seen a change in Faramir, and froze and quit his attempt at the light. He turned back at Faramir and stared at the youth beneath him who felt his heart pounce at his chest at the sight of his older brother’s attractive face. His gaze froze on his lips, and then they spoke “Faramir? Are you blushing?”.

The tense boy noticed he had kept his breath, and swallowed. His mouth was numbed and his voice was stuck as feelings quarreled; he wanted to…those lips, and that jaw, and that unbeliavable attractive neck. Faramir’s gazes went lower and lower, until he finally caught up with himself and shook his head as he spoke “No, I want to sleep. You get back and I’ll put out the light.” In the attempt to push Boromir aside with his palm on the neck, he also tried to rise, and as he failed as Boromir’s heavy body didn’t move a notch, he leant back on his elbows while trembling at the proximity of his big brother.

Luckily for Faramir he was now too close to engage with Boromir’s judging eyes, but the truth was that the darker grey eyes of the older brother was not judgmental at all, they were drowning in lust and love.

Faramir’s heart still beat fast and hard, and he just couldn’t get his body to stop trembling. Faramir only needed to tilt his head upwards to face Boromir, but dared not. Instead he brushed the strong jaw lightly with his head while turning towards the light, and hoped Boromir would take him for his words and lean back eventually. The touch was so light it had almost not happened, but the tension made the touch stronger and Boromir had almost lost it.

He had frozen over his little brother and fought the desires as Faramir stretched out to blow out the flame. It was then when Boromir got dangerously close to his ear that Faramir’s spine made a jump and his beating heart raced with the butterflies in his tummy at Boromir’s whisper “Good night, little brother.” The brother and flame vanished with the light.

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

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4 Comment(s)


NB: Comments span all chapters and may contain spoilers!

Why no comments yet, I wonder. This is a wonderfully complex story with equal measures of drama, emotion, and humour. Especially liked Denethor’s memories of Boromir teasing Faramir through the years. Hope you’ll continue. Cheers!

— LN Tora    14 March 2012, 22:59    #

Yey, thank you! I will continue :) So tune up for more ^^

— Laivindur    15 March 2012, 23:44    #

Oh…my…gosh… this story is amazing! I read it straight through, beginning with chapter one and halting at chapter fifteen. I look forward so much to your next update! This is very well written, and though there are a few grammatical errors here and there, it is nothing that distracts from the story.

Waiting in anticipation…

An Avid Reader.

— AvidReader    28 April 2012, 06:49    #

Oooh, thank you so much for that encouraging comment :D I’m glad you don’t feel the grammar destroys your story experience, pewh!
I am actually going through it over again to correct and add :)
Thank yuo so much! Much appreciated!!

— Laivindur    30 April 2012, 16:57    #

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