24 June 2007 | 799 words
Title: Moonlight on Ithilien
Author: Kimber Leigh
Pairing: Faramir/Aragorn, implied Aragorn/Boromir
Disclaimer: They belong to people who are not me. I promise I will clean them up and put them away when I am done playing with them.
Archive: Just here and my writing journal
Author’s Notes: Written for the 2007 Midsummer Swap. I hope you all enjoy it.
Request by Anorienbean: Faramir/Haldir, Faramir/Boromir, Faramir/Aragorn – I’d like a hurt/comfort fic, with Faramir doing the comforting please. :)
Faramir stood looking out the window of his study. The full moon had cast its eerie silver light over Minas Tirith. The night was quiet, everything peaceful. It reminded him of when he was young and how on the nights of the full moon, he would sneak into the White Tower just to watch the night sky. More often then not Boromir would come and find him in the early morning hours to carry him back to his rooms. Boromir never told on him, not once in all those years. The thought of his older brother made his heartache. On this night, more then any other, he really missed him.
A soft knock on the door brought Faramir out of his reverie. He turned and was surprised to see Aragorn standing in the doorway, just watching him.
“My lord, is everything alright?” Faramir asked.
“Everything is fine Faramir. I couldn’t sleep and when I saw the light coming from your study, I wandered this way. I thought you might like some company. Besides, I have never been inside of your study before.” He replied as he entered the room. Aragorn cat his gaze around the room. It suited Faramir. Small but tidy. It felt lived in, in a way that much of the palace still didn’t. Aragorn stopped when he saw what was hanging in a place of honour above the fireplace. Faramir followed his gaze and smiled softly.
“The Horn of Gondor. It’s all I have left of him. Apart from my memories” Faramir said softly, reaching for the glass of mead on his desk, “It’s his birthday tomorrow.”
“I remember.” Aragorn tore his eyes away from the fireplace to look at Faramir. It always surprised him how similar they were in looks, but how different they were in character. Faramir was quiet and thoughtful where Boromir was brash and impulsive.
He had often wondered how things might have turned out if Faramir had made the journey to Rivendell instead of Boromir. Would Boromir still be alive? How would their relationship have developed? Would they still have arrived at the same ending? It was impossible to know, and there was no way to change the past.
“Come, let us drink a toast to him then.” Faramir said, handing a second glass to Aragorn.
“To Boromir.” Aragorn said quietly.
“Happy birthday Brother. You are greatly missed.” Faramir replied. They touched glass and drank deeply. They were quiet for a moment, both lost in thoughts of the missing man. Faramir noticed the tears shining in Aragorn’s eyes.
“You loved him, didn’t you?” Faramir asked.
“Yes, I did.” Aragorn replied. Faramir would never know how much.
“It was impossible not to love my brother. He just inspired it in people.”
“He was closer and dearer to me then any other man.” Aragorn said, his eyes drifting back to the cloven horn. It had started in the depths of Moria. Started as a physical release, but quickly became so much more. He looked at Faramir and all those feelings came rushing back to him.
Faramir understood the hidden meaning in Aragorn’s words and nodded.
“We had been closer then brothers, “Faramir was suddenly cut off by Aragorn’s clumsy and rather desperate kiss. Aragorn’s fingers tangled themselves in his hair and Faramir shivered. He let it continue for one heartbeat, then another, but then he collected his thoughts and gently pushed Aragorn away.
“I’m sorry Faramir. I don’t know what came over me.” He said. Faramir absently touched his lips. Aragorn certainly could kiss but he knew that it would be wrong to let it continue.
“Grief can make you do unexpected things. But I cannot be my brother’s substitute.” He placed a reassuring hand on Aragorn’s shoulder before pulling him into a tight embrace. Faramir could feel tears on his face, and he wasn’t sure if they were his or Aragorn’s.
“I know.” Aragorn replied. They embraced for another long moment. Aragorn was the first to let go. “Arwen is probably wondering where I’ve wandered off to.” He looked at the door then back at Faramir.
“You a welcome to stay my lord. I have enough mead for two. I would appreciate the company.”
“As you wish.” Aragorn replied, and Faramir refilled their glasses.
“To Boromir, most beloved of men.”
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