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Seascapes (R) Print

Written by Minx

26 September 2005 | 9864 words

1. Seascapes

Pairing: Aragorn/Faramir
Rating: R
Disclaimer: LOTR and all its characters belong to Tolkien
Warnings: Slash

Thanks a big huge deal and many hugs to Iris for the beta


Aragorn took a deep breath and then sighed loudly and happily as he felt the wind blow through his hair and the salty tang in the air. This was an excellent idea, he decided, almost gleefully, eyeing the vast blue expanses of sea and sky spread out in front of him. He’d almost forgotten how much he’d loved sailing in the open seas on his visits to Dol Amroth in his earlier days in Gondor. If only Faramir would come up a while and enjoy it with him.

Imrahil’s invitation to visit couldn’t have come at a better time. Winter was nearing and Minas Tirith was beginning to get cold and more than that Aragorn’s councils were getting longer as the days grew shorter leaving him with less time to spend outdoors. When Imrahil mentioned that the coastal defences needed to be re-planned, Aragorn had agreed. And so Imrahil had invited him over, and so, leaving Arwen to take care of matters in Minas Tirith, the king, his steward and a few of his commanders rode down to Dol Amroth. Common sense dictated that the best way to examine the existing coastal defences would be to sail the coast and that was just what Aragorn did now, in Imrahil’s flagship. He planned to be at sea for a few days at least, with Imrahil’s younger son and Dol Amroth’s naval commander, Erchirion as captain.

It was not a plan that met with everyone’s approval, but it was long clear to all that Aragorn did not always do things that were necessarily approved by everyone. He had deliberately ensured they would be at sea for a few days. And true enough, the moment he’d spied the sliver of blue from atop a hill nearing Imrahil’s castle, Aragorn had remembered his old love affair with the sea, and the trips he’s taken along the coast with the old fisher folk who knew more about the dealings of the Corsairs than the spies did.

This was their first morning on the boat. They’d boarded late the day before to catch the tide and after a quick meal the others had retired to their cabins, pleading tiredness from the long ride. Aragorn had been a little disappointed to see Faramir also looking a little tired. He was becoming increasingly fond of the younger man, finding in him a good friend and an excellent Steward and he’d hoped they could have had some wine together on the deck.

He hadn’t mentioned this plan of his to tour the coast on boat to Faramir earlier and had been delighted to see the surprise on the younger man’s face when they’d reached Dol Amroth and Erchirion had shown them to the vessel almost immediately.

“We’ll be back to spend a few days with Imrahil,” Aragorn had told him smiling, even as Faramir had continued to stare in surprise at the boat.

Well, he still had the next few days to eat and drink with Faramir he decided. Tonight, they could dine on the upper deck… he would show Faramir the sights on the cliff that rose above the coast. Surprisingly, Faramir had mentioned that he’d spent little time in Dol Amroth earlier and even less on the sea, coming in only on short visits every two years or so to visit his uncle and cousins.

He’d forgotten how wondrous the sea could be, Aragorn realised smiling, as he watched the waves slap the sides of their vessel. It was a little rough, but he liked it that way. He liked the rolling motion the roughness caused, so rhythmic and calming. As though almost on cue, the launch lurched ever so slightly. His smile broadening, Aragorn walked down to the small dining area that had been prepared for the royal party and settled down to a fairly sumptuous breakfast. Sailing always made him extremely hungry. He was joined at the table by the two commanders who had accompanied him, the Lords Celos and Mardil and Erchirion and spent much of his time discussing his plans with them.

“Lord Faramir does not join us?” Mardil asked, after a while.

“I had hoped he would,” Aragorn admitted, “Perhaps he prefers to break his fast alone? He oft did that while in Minas Tirith, before he moved to Ithilien. He used to like working in the mornings and he’d often eat while working.”

“I’m not surprised,” Erchirion muttered, “He’s probably nose deep in his parchments by now.”

“He should join us for the meeting later, though,” Aragorn smiled again, although he did feel a little wistful inwardly. He’d forgotten Faramir’s old habit of having breakfast alone.

Faramir did indeed come for the meeting, looking a little sleepy and tired. Probably the long ride the day before, Aragorn thought. Celos and Mardil however looked quite refreshed. He smiled at Faramir and got a weak smile in return that he thought looked more like a grimace.

They sat down with jugs of wine and pored over the maps of the coast long and discussed Tolfalas and fortifications and Erchirion often pointed out specific land features to the king. The younger man was quite delightful, Aragorn realised as he laughed over his comments on the corsair attacks that they still faced. He was quite young and certainly so when considering the responsibility he held but that was to be expected, and his enthusiasm was almost infectious

The sea was calm now and the launch seemed to be barely moving in the stillness. Standing at the deck rail with Erchirion, sipping his wine, Aragorn’s eyes fell on his Steward’s profile. He knew very little about the sea and ships, Aragorn had realised quite early on. Faramir had in fact said as much when Aragorn had asked him to come along. But he had agreed that he needed to know all about the coastal defences in his capacity as Steward. Now he sat hunched over the large and detailed map of the coast, trying to work with it. He was completely different from Erchirion, his countenance sober as ever, his voice soft as he spoke to Celos, and even his long, dark hair was tied down by a ribbon quite unlike the others.

When they were done an hour later, Erchirion invited Aragorn to sup at his cabin later in the evening. The king mentally postponed his planned dinner with Faramir to the next night and accepted and turned to the Steward who had come to join him at the rail, holding his cup of wine in his hand.

“I must return to my papers now, my lord –”

“Oh no, Faramir, you’d better not run off downstairs again,” Aragorn said, “Stay here awhile and speak to me.”

“Yes, my lord,” Faramir said, smiling gently.

“Is not the sea beautiful?” Aragorn demanded enthusiastically.

“Indeed,” Faramir replied softly, “And you love it so do you not? I remember you once told me how much you loved sailing.”

“You do?” Erchirion said his face lighting up, “Then when we return you must come on my sailboat with me.”

“I would love to,” Aragorn replied.

“But I must warn you we will face rough seas.”

“All the better,” Aragorn replied laughing happily.

From there the conversation progressed on to boats, sails, seas and rivers. Erchirion was animated and enthusiastic and knew well what he spoke of. Aragorn noticed Faramir was not saying much and tried hard to include him in the talk but the Steward would contribute little more than a monosyllable before returning to his wineglass. It was a while before they were finished.

“You will you join us for supper, will you not, cousin Faramir?” Erchirion asked.

Faramir gave them a hesitant look.

“I hope you will,” Aragorn said.

“I – I had thought of writing some letters,” Faramir said quietly.

Erchirion shrugged, but Aragorn frowned, “Surely letters can wait. I would be happy to see you at supper.”

The sea had roughened steadily by the time Aragorn came to Erchirion’s cabin for supper. They lurched their way through the courses, and Aragorn was frustrated to note Faramir had not come. Celos and Mardil both had though.

“Faramir works through supper too?” Celos murmured, “About time he got married!”

They all laughed at that, though Aragorn did so quite mechanically.

This was silly, he decided, surely, letters could wait.

“I did think he’d have joined us,” Erchirion said a little testily, “After all he was asked by you to come. Elphir used to say he was quite reserved, I didn’t realise he was so reserved as to be almost stuck up. He hardly spoke earlier too.”

Aragorn didn’t reply but Erchirion’s words did distress him a little. He’d realised however that the cousins did not know each very well so he let it pass. Faramir had mentioned that his trips to Dol Amroth had been fewer over the years and his interactions with his younger cousins much less.
When supper was over, Aragorn excused himself and left for his cabin, stopping for a few minutes at the deck to enjoy the wind. He wondered about Erchirion’s remark that Faramir had been quiet earlier too. Aragorn frowned. It was true. He’d been quieter than usual on the ride here and ever since they’d boarded the vessel he’d hardly spoken, and he hadn’t even smiled, merely grimaced a lot.

“That’s it! I’m going to ask him why he’s being so aloof!” he decided.

Faramir’s cabin was on next to his. Aragorn walked over in smooth strides that kept up with the rocking of the boat. Stopping at Faramir’s door, he knocked. There was no reply but he could hear sounds of movement from inside. So he knocked harder. Again there was no response.

*Is he avoiding me for some reason?*

Seething a little at the thought, he contemplated turning away and stalking off. And then he heard the noise, as though someone was choking…

And then again that same sound.

“Faramir!” he cried out aloud and did the first thing that came to his mind. He kicked the heavy door open and launched himself inside. He fell onto the carpeted floor in a heap and straightened himself rapidly, sitting on his haunches his eyes wide and focussed on the table and chair where Faramir should have been.

He wasn’t. He was on the bed.

Faramir was lying limply on his back, his shirt open, the sheets thrown haphazardly over him, one leg dangling off the bunk and an arm thrown over his eyes. Aragorn stood up, surprised. Faramir moved his hand and peered blearily up at his king.

“Sire,” he murmured making no move to rise.

It was enough to show Aragorn something was wrong, “Faramir? What has happened?”

The young Steward simply groaned, and mumbled something as he tried to sit up.

“What?”

“I had too much wine… and I get seasick when I travel by boat,” came the embarrassed answer accompanied by a deep flush.

“You get seasick?” Aragorn asked incredulously. He’d never even considered that. For one, he never got seasick himself, and for another Faramir’s maternal family was after all from Dol Amroth and they were renowned sailors as Erchirion was clearly demonstrating.

“Yes,” Faramir replied tersely. It was clearly a sore point.

He’d managed to sit up now.

“I’m sorry I’m late. If you would give me a few minutes, I will change and join you for supper.”

“Supper is over. You look a little pale,” Aragorn asked, “Are you all right?”

Faramir nodded and then winced at the movement. It was at that moment that the boat gave a huge lurch. Aragorn reached out to steady himself. Faramir on the other hand nearly toppled off the bunk, as his hand flew to his stomach.

He groaned loudly even as the craft steadied, and the next moment had indeed flown off the bunk, and headed straight for the bowl kept at the corner of the cabin. Aragorn stood by him as he bent over it, retching unhappily.

When he’d finished he gently helped him up and guided him back onto his bed, and then sat down by his side.

“You should have told me,” Aragorn said as he gently made Faramir lie back against the pillows.

“I didn’t know we were to sail,” Faramir groaned in reply, as the boat rocked ever so slightly, “If I had I wouldn’t have come to Dol Amroth at all.”

“You could have told me when you learned that we were to sail that you get seasick!” Aragorn repeated, “We would have had our meeting on land.”

“I couldn’t,” Faramir murmured and curled into himself.

“You couldn’t tell me? Why?” Aragorn asked surprised, “And why ever didn’t Imrahil tell me?”

“He doesn’t know!” The boat rocked once again and Faramir curled up even more turning his face towards the pillows, loose strands of hair fringing his damp face.

“How could he not know?” Aragorn demanded, “You said you have visited here.”

“He didn’t know because I stayed away from the sea after I realised I get seasick… I – I couldn’t tell him,” Faramir’s voice was muffled by the pillows.

“Why not?” Aragorn demanded.

Faramir sighed a little, “He- how – I just didn’t. I was afraid what everyone else would think, and – the others don’t… and father would – would say I – I just couldn’t tell anyone so I found ways to never have to sail.“

“Oh? And why couldn’t you tell me?”

“I – I thought I could handle it,” the younger man looked up at Aragorn, his grey eyes reflecting all the misery that he clearly felt, “You wanted so much to come on this journey… I remembered how oft you spoke of sailing on these seas here and you sounded so fond and I couldn’t-”

“Oh Faramir! I did want to come out to sea but not at the cost of forcing you to make yourself ill!”

“But you are enjoying yourself so and I have spoilt it for you.”

“One of the reasons I wanted you to come was so I could show you all I had learnt on my last visits here. I thought you would like it… to see the stars and to see the cliff formations around the bay and to hear the tales the fisher folk tell of the sea… I wanted so much to spend time with you, Faramir, without all these disturbances that we keep having and I thought who could disturb us at sea,” Aragorn said with a hint of a wistful smile in his face.

He reached out a hand and gently brushed the damp strands of hair away from Faramir’s face, “I hardly get to see you these days, Faramir, you seem away in Ithilien all the while and I find, my friend that I miss you greatly. I thought this would be a good way to spend time with you. I know you are lonesome, and I too long for company at times.”

Faramir stared up at him, the grey eyes as astute as ever, although tinged with weariness right now, “I – I have missed your company too, my lord, and oft wish to return to Minas Tirith but –”

“I know,” Aragorn said gently, his fingers still brushing Faramir’s hair lightly, “There is much to do in Ithilien and I can think of none better to handle things there. It is why I so looked forward to this journey.”

“As did I,” Faramir admitted, “Until I learnt of how we were to journey,” he let out a short wry laugh at that which turned into a slight groan as the boat lurched unsteadily.

“I should have told you earlier,” Aragorn said ruefully, and then sitting back a little, took a closer look at Faramir. He seemed rather sweaty, he decided and reached for the jug of water placed nearby, “Although I fear you would not have confessed even then.”

“No,” Faramir admitted in a small voice.

“Because you ever fear to reveal what you think others construe a weakness,” Aragorn stated, and rising walked over to a shelf on the wall, “I feared briefly that you were avoiding me.”

“I would never avoid you,” Faramir breathed out sharply, his eyes following Aragorn around the room, “But I did think you could do with better company than I would have provided, with my mind ever on when the sea would get rough and I would embarrass myself in front of everyone, and –” he broke off abruptly as Aragorn sat on the floor by him and ran a wet cloth over his cheek and neck.

“I would never avoid you,” he said again, trying not to squeal at the feel of the cold cloth against his neck.

“I am glad to hear that,” Aragorn smiled and wetting the towel some more, parted the open shirt a little more and rubbed down Faramir’s chest and stomach, “There that should help you feel more comfortable.”

Then he undid the clasp that held Faramir’s hair and wiped the towel around the back of his neck too.

“Now that I know you do not wish to avoid me,” he said grinning a little, “I shall feel easier about imposing my company upon you tonight. I was told that it is suggested for such a sickness that one seek open air.”

Faramir’s expression turned to one of dismay, “In open air?” he almost squeaked, “Like this? I – I -,” he couldn’t he thought, distressed. To appear outside looking, as he felt, weak as a half-drowned kitten - he baulked at the thought.

Aragorn was well aware of Faramir’s insecurities in that regard, but this he decided was no time to attempt to resolve those, so he simply smiled reassuringly instead, “I can imagine you would prefer not to come out on to the deck, so I have another suggestion. My cabin is larger. I suggest we retire there for the night.”

Faramir stared up at him at first in relief at hearing he didn’t have to seek the deck after all and then his expression changed to surprise, “But –”

“I am sorry to say,” Aragorn continued, “That the sea will remain choppy. I shall ask Erchrion to turn and make for shore but I fear it will not be till later tomorrow that we shall be able to return to Dol Amroth, and your cabin is too small for both of us to spend a comfortable night here.”

“Both of us?” Faramir asked surprised, “But really, Sire, there is no need for you-“

“-to spend the night with you?” Aragorn completed smiling, “No, Faramir, there is every need. You are in discomfort and likely to feel worse, and I will not leave you alone at such a time.”

There was little Faramir could say that Aragorn would heed after that, particularly as the boat began to lurch even more unsteadily and a swift wind made its presence felt outside. He made the younger man get up and change into lighter clothes, while he sent a message to Erchirion to ask him to turn back towards Dol Amroth and another to the galley to ask for some bland soup, bread and fruits.

Aragorn’s cabin was indeed large, as was the huge bed in it, with soft pillows and sheets that looked so inviting that Faramir had merely a moment’s hesitation as he stood by the door leaning on Aragorn’s arm.

He laid down on it while Aragorn sat by him. A small lantern infused the cabin with a warm glow.

The food had already been placed and Erchirion had apparently accepted his king’s orders without question. The sea had after all gone progressively rougher and the rocking movements of the boat were now unceasing. Faramir looked even worse and at the sight of the food, his face developed a sickly hue. He had retched once earlier, nothing but a dry heaving though and Aragorn had hastily moved the food out of sight and slipped into the bed next to his Steward.

“Rest,” he suggested, “And all will be better in the morning.”

Faramir groaned in reply and curled up next to Aragorn as though seeking his nearness, “Can’t sleep,” he mumbled.

“If you wish,” Aragorn said gently, and sitting up a little, pulled Faramir into his arms, “We can talk.”

The sudden gesture seemed to surprise Faramir and he glanced up at Aragorn with his eyes wide but made no move to distance himself from the embrace, instead he leaned his head a little warily against Aragorn’s chest.

“But for this infernal rocking…” he muttered.

“You need to take your mind off it,” Aragorn said gently, tightening his hold a little, in an attempt to cushion the movements somewhat, “Think of other things… think of – of… what were you thinking of in the morning when you were sitting at the table with the maps?”

“You,” Faramir said promptly and then blushed, “I mean – I -”

“I was thinking of you too that while,” Aragorn confessed softly, “What were you thinking of me?”

“You looked so fine and handsome standing there… I thought Erchirion would fall madly in love with you and –”

Aragorn nearly laughed at that but stopped himself just in time when he realised Faramir was beginning to look a little miserable.

“And you thought I would reciprocate,” he said gently.

“I -,” Faramir blushed hotly at that, “Forgive me, I know you are married but I- it is not unknown and -”

“It is not unknown, yes, for married men to desire the company of other men, and I shall confess I do too.”

Faramir looked up in surprise, his eyes even more miserable now, “He – he will be glad of it, I think. He has ever said he can not be close to one who does not love the sea as he does-”

“Not he, Faramir,” Aragorn said gently, “Nay, my affections rest closer home, dear one.”

The endearment almost slipped Faramir by in his confusion but then his eyes widened and he paled and then reddened and stared wildly at Aragorn.

“If I ask for something you do not desire, Faramir, forgive me and forget that I ever ask for this,” Aragorn said quietly, “But if you too desire what I do, then… well, it would help you keep your mind off what ails you right now.”

Faramir continued to stare at him.

Aragorn bit his lip slightly, “Forgive me as I said. I should not have –”

“No!” Faramir spoke up hastily, “No, there is nothing to forgive. I mean – I should, I too… oh! But – I-”

And then Faramir stopped abruptly, and swiftly moving closer to Aragorn kissed him on his lips, a quick peck, no more. Then he moved back and stared apprehensively at Aragorn.

Aragorn let out a ragged sigh.

“I-” Faramir began, and then stopped lost for words. There was so much he wanted to say, or rather to ask Aragorn to do…

“Dearest,” Aragorn said softly.

Pulling Faramir closer and gathering his entire weight in his arms, Aragorn gently lowered his lips onto Faramir’s and kissed him. Faramir responded hungrily. Aragorn fell back onto the pillows taking Faramir with him and then rolled them both over so that Faramir lay under him.

When they finally came apart slowly, he looked down into the clear grey eyes of his Steward and spoke softly, “What do you wish to do tonight, Faramir?” he ran his hands through the soft, damp hair and traced a finger over Faramir’s cheekbones.

Faramir wound his arms around Aragorn before replying, “Take my mind off everything but you, my king,” he replied softly.

“Aye,” Aragorn breathed heavily and bent to kiss Faramir once more, his hands now moving lower till they came to the ties of Faramir’s robe and began undoing them. He lavished Faramir’s eager mouth with his tongue and let his fingers slip in to rove the sharp collarbones and dip lower to run across the chest. Faramir bucked up under him and pulled him closer encouraging him by rubbing his body against Aragorn’s chest, until it was clear the clothes were causing too much of an obstruction. Reluctantly slipping his mouth out of Faramir’s he sat up, straddling Faramir’s thighs. The boat continued to rock, more gently now, but Faramir had his eyes half-closed, and seemed not to notice the movement.

“Too many clothes,” he murmured softly, smiling at Aragorn. The king nodded and moving away divested himself of his tunic and pants, even as Faramir removed his robe. The soft golden light from the lantern played on their bodies as they looked at each other, before moving into each other’s arms.

Faramir ran gentle fingers over Aragorn’s chest, as the king nudged him back against the pillows. The steward moved his legs apart as Aragon kissed him on his lips again, and then moved his lips lower over the jaw, the long neck, the throat, onto the chest even as Faramir’s arousal became more and more apparent against Aragorn’s stomach. His own hardness beginning to make itself felt, Aragorn licked at one brown nipple, before taking it between his teeth gently and working it swiftly to hardness even as Faramir began releasing soft moans of obvious desire. Aragorn moved onto the next nipple, pressing his hardness against the Steward’s even as Faramir bent his head down and began kissing him everywhere within reach, his ears, the back of his neck.

“Tell me what you want,” Aragorn demanded again, hoarsely as Faramir’s tongue slipped in to his ear and began lavishing him.

Faramir released his ear and moved enticingly so that their arousals brushed again, causing Aragorn to hiss audibly.

“You,” Faramir whispered softly, “Inside me.”

Outside the wind picked up speed and the boat lurched yet again and rocked more and more, but Faramir felt none of that as Aragorn gently pressed him down and slipping a pillow underneath his hips, slowly slipped an oil slicked finger deeper and deeper into him. Faramir moaned shuddering each time the fingers moved inside his tight passage, and moved in steady rhythm with them trying to aid them into moving further and further inside him, until they brushed the tiny knot that sent those sensations cascading over him.

“Soon, please,” he urged Aragorn, as the fingers were removed and replaced with Aragorn’s erect shaft. Spreading his legs wider, Faramir allowed his mouth to be captured in Aragorn’s again as he felt his muscles stretch to allow Aragorn to enter him and sheath himself completely insides him.

Sensations warred all over his body, the rhythmic thrusting of Aragorn’s thickening shaft against his passage as the king pulled out slowly and then thrust in harder, the tongue that ravished his mouth, and throat, the fingers that alternately gripped his hips and played with his nipples.

He felt himself being pulled into a maelstrom of feelings. Somewhere in the distance he felt other movements, rocking motions, blowing winds, all of which was being relegated to the waves that racked through his body as Aragorn hit that one spot again and again and again, as long fingers wound around his own aching shaft, and ran up and down it, teeth pressed into his aroused nipples as he threw his head back in pleasure. He thought he might have screamed loud, though he couldn’t say how many times. All he knew was that in all the times he had lain with another, he had never felt the depth he felt now, as he felt Aragorn come inside him, and as he felt his own release spill into the king’s hands.

He lay breathing heavily with Aragorn lying over him, his fingers entwining the king’s hair as dark head resting against his torso, the limp member still inside Faramir. The lantern had died out but neither felt like moving. The boat lurched once to the left and then to the right, but Faramir felt too overwhelmed to notice. He did notice Aragorn pulling out of him though and protested softly as the king’s warm body moved away from his. But the next movement he was back in Aragorn’s arms, and being held close.

They happily ignored the stickiness still spread over their lower bodies and fell asleep wrapped around each other.

Aragorn woke the next morning as sunlight streamed in through the window of his cabin. A glance out of the window showed him a calm spread of blue sea, and he felt his heart lighten at the sight. The day before when he’d woken to this sight, he had arisen promptly, readied himself quickly and bounded out to the open deck. Today, he turned to his side and glanced at Faramir who lay near him, still sleeping, the bedclothes tangled around his curled up body. Aragorn pulled the sheets straight and then gently slung an arm over the younger man’s chest and moved closer to him, resting his cheek against the soft, dark hair. He smiled slightly as Faramir let out a soft sigh and snuggled into his embrace.


They reached Dol Amroth later that day, and had meetings with Imrahil’s lords through the evening. Faramir’s seasickness had returned to a limited extent that morning but he managed to make it to the breakfast table and nibble at some food before smiling thinly and admitting to his cousin that he had been feeling poorly, and then apologised for not being sociable.

Imrahil had given them adjoining rooms in his castle, which they took full advantage of, spending their first night there in Faramir’s room which, out of filial love, had a better view of the sea.

They made love twice that night and fell asleep in each other’s arm. Waking at dawn, they sat together and watched the sun rise over the horizon. Aragorn was speaking softly as Faramir nestled in his arms.

“I did not realise it but I have come to depend on you so much, not just for your advise, but for your companionship, to hear you, to watch you, to spend time with you, and now when I see you suffer I know I would do all to ensure you do not suffer so, even turn around from that journey. And I know you suffered so because you wish not to deprive me of that journey, so I wonder, dearest Faramir if you too –”

“I do,” Faramir said simply and kissed him. Aragorn responded by slinging a leg over his thigh.

Faramir remembered later that night, “What of your sailing trip?” he asked softly, as they lay back against a next of pillows created on Aragorn’s balcony and the king pushed gently into him.

“I find that I get a finer pleasure on land,” Aragorn murmured, smiling lovingly at him, as they began rocking together slowly with his shallow thrusts.


2. Sunset at the Castle

Pairing: Aragorn/Faramir
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: LOTR and all its characters belong to Tolkien
Warnings: Slash, rimming
Archiving: Drop me a line before you do
Summary: Further adventures on a trip to Dol Amroth
A/N: This is a sequel of sorts to Seascapes

Many thanks to Iris who requested the sequel and helped sort it out and therefore now gets two sequels:-)


Aragorn stood at the window in Faramir’s chambers in Dol Amroth and watched as the sun set over the sea, a sight that was so spectacular that Aragorn couldn’t help but ardently wish that Faramir had been there to share the sight and also that they could be out somewhere where the sight would undoubtedly be much clearer.

He glanced down at the perfect view of the coasts of Dol Amroth wistfully. Their stay here was turning out to be fulfilling in more ways than one. Imrahil’s sea defences would be finalised soon, Aragorn could do his heart’s share of sailing – in small boats, large launches, rafts, and all manner of vessels, in rough and calm seas – and he and Faramir had given a meaning to the love they felt for each other. And then proceeded to continue doing just that each day of their stay.

He’d been away the entire day today, he realised feeling a little guilty, more so as he’d left Faramir to handle the councils with the minor lords in that area. He had joined Imrahil’s son Erchirion on a sailing trip that he and the young man had planned when he’d arrived two days earlier. Erchirion had with all the enthusiasm of a newly appointed Captain of the Boats meeting his king for the first time, arranged the trip and described it with such earnestness that Aragorn couldn’t bring himself to hedge out. Faramir, having a tendency towards seasickness couldn’t join him.

He had awoken very early in the morning, earlier than Faramir even who he had realised was a light sleeper and an early riser. The sky outside had been dark yet and although he’d tried not to disturb Faramir, the younger man had stirred and smiled sleepily at him.

They’d kissed, a long, lingering kiss, with their arms wrapped around each other; Faramir naked under the sheet, and Aragorn still half-dressed, wearing only a shirt.

And now, Faramir was clearly still stuck in the meeting and Aragorn staring at the sheets on the bed now neatly tucked in, tried to pass time by remembering how Faramir had looked that morning, spread out on those rumpled sheets, how he’d looked with his mouth lowered between Aragorn’s legs, and the dreamy delight in his eyes as Aragorn had reciprocated, Faramir spread out naked, his knees folded up and apart as Aragorn had thrust into his willing body quickly for it was getting late, Faramir curled up on his side the night before, their first night together in these chambers as he’d spooned up behind him and entered him slowly, savouring the exquisite feeling of Faramir’s tightness around his aching need, and then suddenly also the wistfulness in his face in the morning as Aragorn had left.

“You’re back!” Faramir sounded slightly weary but the happiness was unmistakable, “Uncle Imrahil thought Erchirion might convince you to sail with him at night too, to see the stars…”

He broke off as Aragorn turned, covered the distance between them in two long steps and wrapping his arms around Faramir’s waist kissed him gently, before releasing his lips and smiling at him.

“He mentioned something about stars, but I mentioned something about being old. How was the council?”

Faramir still looked slightly weary, “Long. They do talk so much and they keep saying the same things and asking the same questions. My throat hurts from all that talking!” He almost pouted.

“Hmm,” Aragorn said as he gently pushed him towards a bowl of water and some towels, “Let’s not talk then. Let’s get you comfortable and then perhaps you can have something to eat and then go to sleep.”

“Sleep?” Faramir looked up from the wet towel as though horrified at the thought, “but I thought – well, I hoped – no, I mean, I –“ Uncertainty filled Faramir’s eyes and he glanced a little worriedly at Aragorn.

The king gave him a puzzled glance before he noticed the stricken look, “You looked tired,” he explained, “I thought you might prefer to sleep.”

“Oh,” Faramir said a little hesitantly, and then quickly wiping his neck and throat, placed the towel by the bowl and walked over to his bed.

Aragorn raised an eyebrow slightly.

“It’s just that,” Faramir spoke a little hesitantly, “If you would prefer not to spend all of our nights together – I know we cannot in Minas Tirith, -“

He didn’t have to say it. Aragorn already knew. Back in their city they would need to be much more discreet.

Faramir was continuing, “But here, I wondered if , I – but if you would rather not – I- “

“No, love,” he spoke soothingly and sitting by Faramir pulled him gently into his arms, “Nothing would give me greater joy than to be with you each night. If I could I would be with you all the while. I thought you would be tired but if you are not, that is wonderful to hear, for I have been thinking of much we can do the next few nights!”

“I am glad to hear that,” Faramir said softly, reassured by the fondness in Aragorn’s eyes.

They kissed again, and Aragorn was more than relieved to feel Faramir melting into his embrace yet again.

Fingers wandered hastily undoing knots and bindings as both men tried to shed their clothing without moving apart.

Faramir felt himself being nudged back against the pillows he had neatly stacked against the headboard in the morning, even as their mouths came apart slightly only to move on to each other’s jaw, throat, ears and anywhere within access. His shirt was undone and he’d managed to pull one arm out of the sleeve as his head sank into a soft feather pillow. Aragorn who had been wearing a long sleeping robe had merely shrugged it off and had spread his naked body over Faramir, his hardening arousal rubbing against Faramir’ own hardness.

Aragorn smiled down at the younger man, and the now rumpled sheets and remembered again the way the dark hair had splayed over the white pillow earlier in the morning as Faramir had arched up when Aragorn had entered him. They had not had much time in the morning, perhaps he should make up for that, Aragorn thought.

Aragorn suddenly wiped a tongue inside Faramir’s ears and at the same time pressed down on his lower stomach, causing the younger man to gasp aloud.

Faramir squirmed, unsure of what to react to, the friction that was causing those waves of sensation in his lower body or the tongue wetting his ear, entering the crevice. And then just a suddenly Aragorn moved away, pulling his tongue out of Faramir’s ear and raising himself off him.

“Aragorn!” Faramir groaned aloud, “I can definitely not sleep now, if that is what you intend!”

“Hush, love,” Aragorn said softly, tucking a stray strand of his tenderly behind the same ear he’d licked, “No one could sleep in that state.”

Faramir glanced down at where he was pointing and groaned aloud at the bulge in his trousers, “At least let me –“

“Wait,” Aragorn said gently and then rose.

Faramir stared at him in surprise and made to rise.

“Stay,” Aragorn said gently and retrieved a bottle of oil from the small table near the foot of the bed. Faramir continued to lie where he was watching Aragorn.

The king sat down by his Steward and helped him remove his pants, slipping them off to reveal his erection. The restriction gone, Faramir lay back with a sigh and then smiling at Aragorn raised his legs and parted them.

Aragorn placed a hand on one knee.

“I would feel you inside me,” he said softly to the younger man.

Faramir’s eyebrows rose slightly and his face coloured a little as Aragorn had known they would. In these few nights they had spent together, it had always been Faramir whom he had taken, and never the other way round.

“I would feel the pleasure of having you inside me, of you being the one to bring such pleasure to me,” Aragorn said, running his fingers through Faramir’s hair again, “Will you make love to me dear heart?”

Faramir nodded, a little shyly almost, it seemed to Aragorn.

“I will,” he said softly, “If that is what you desire.”

Aragorn nodded. Faramir pulled him gently into bed with him and for a few seconds they stayed in each other’s arms savouring the nearness. Then Aragorn shifted so that he was lying down on his back with Faramir still in his arms.

Faramir found his head resting against Aragorn’s torso, a dark nipple right next to his nose. He moved slightly and licked it, causing Aragorn to moan aloud, as his tongue wrapped around it, progressively hardening it. Aragorn loosened his grip on Faramir’s hair and spread his hands out at his side, clutching at the sheets below him as Faramir moved onto the next nipple to do just that all over again, even as Aragorn whimpered under him.

Once they stood erect, pointed, he moved down and flicked his tongue into Aragorn’s navel.

“Faramir!” Aragorn mumbled out as the tongue darted in and out of his navel.

Aragorn moaned aloud yet again causing Faramir to move on. He gave one lingering lick to Aragorn’s now erect member, before settling between Aragorn’s spread legs. He pulled a pillow they had pushed off the bed and gently placed it under Aragorn’s lower back.

He let his tongue lick slowly along the entrance that lay exposed in front of him. Aragorn gasped softly, and so he licked him around the hole once again, before pushing his tongue in, through the narrow entrance.

Aragorn was tight, he realised, even as his king squirmed and whimpered again.

“Faramir, love,” he moaned out.

Faramir pulled out his tongue gently causing Aragorn to groan, “You’re so tight,” he gasped.

“It has been some years,” Aragorn said cracking his eyes open, “Please hurry!” he said pleadingly, hoping Faramir wouldn’t turn the tables on him and tease him on just as he had done with the younger man the night before.

Faramir was rubbing oil into his fingers, liberally coating them with the sticky substance, “You must tell me if I hurt you,” he said with all seriousness.

“Yes love I will,” Aragorn said in as meek a tine as he could muster, which was not very difficult considering the ache in his lower body.

Faramir gently pushed one well-oiled finger into Aragorn’s body, slowly and gently allowing the tight passageway to first allow the intrusion then adjust to it, before pushing in a little more. He added another finger after that, just as slowly, the two fingers widening the way.

“Please!” Aragorn cried out.

“Soon,” Faramir said gently, even as third finger made its way in, “I don’t want to hurt you!” he said anxiously.

“You won’t!”

“Nevertheless I would rather not try.”

Aragorn’s reply to that was lost in the loud cry he sent out as Faramir’s fingers brushed the gland inside him.

Aragorn sighed loudly when Faramir pulled away his fingers, frowning, “I need more oil.”

Despite Aragorn’s protestations and his increasingly theatrical groans and the clearly aching arousal, Faramir ensured he had prepared Aragorn enough, dripping oil into him and lining his entrance and his passage with it. Then he’d coated himself and only then positioned himself between Aragorn’s legs and pushed into him.

He pushed slowly, his thickened shaft finding the way eased by the oil, stopping a few times to ensure Aragorn was unhurt.

The king, sweaty and flushed, assured him that he was. It did not take long before Faramir had hit Aragorn’s sweet spot. Aragorn had bucked and Faramir had with his still oiled hands grasped at his erect shaft, and rubbed his fingers up and down it even as he pulled out marginally and pushed back into Aragorn.

Faramir wanted to be as tender with Aragorn as Aragorn was with him. When they came, it was together, he with his member squeezed inside Aragorn’s tight passage and Aragorn with his erection being kneaded in Faramir’s long fingers, their releases coating the sheets and spilling onto the floor.

“You are the most wonderful being,” Aragorn whispered softly into Faramir’s ears as he held the half-sleeping man in his arms later that night.

“You said you had more plans,” Faramir mumbled in response, nearly asleep, “I look forward to all of them.”


3. Sunset by the Sea

Pairing: Aragorn/Faramir
Rating: NC17
Disclaimer: LOTR and all its characters belong to Tolkien
Warnings: Slash
Archiving: Drop me a line before you do
Summary: Further lurid escapades on boats in Dol Amroth PWP!

Many thanks to Iris who requested the sequel and helped sort it out and therefore now gets two sequels:-)

Archivist's Note: There now is an illustration to go with this story.


The waters in the tiny cove were still and sparkling golden in the pale yellow light of late afternoon. Across the harbour, the ramparts of the castle rose is the distance, the bright flags swaying in the gentle breeze that that caressed Faramir’s hair as he leaned against the ships’ rail, watching the way the shimmering blue of the sea seemed to merge with the paler sky.

The sea looked calm today and for that he was grateful. Surely as still as it was now, it would not cause him troubles? While climbing aboard, he had felt the familiar wrench of queasiness but had ignored it as usual. He had then proceeded to follow Aragorn’s advice and leant against the railing of the small vessel, watching the sea and the sky, and said nothing about how glad he would be to be back on land, even though the boat they were on was on such still waters that it didn’t rock even the slightest.


He had as expected not sailed over, preferring instead to walk the rocky, scree filled path that rounded the harbour and led to this tiny cove that Aragorn had marked out on the maps.

Their visit to Dol Amroth was a clear success, and not just for Gondor. This was their last night here and Faramir knew he would miss this beautiful place, where he had been allowed to show love and gain as much in return.

He sighed softly as he heard footsteps behind him, and Aragorn’s arms wrapped themselves around his waist as he turned to greet him.

“Thank you for joining me here,” the king whispered softly in his ears.

“I had to,” Faramir said, trying to sound annoyed but failing as a wet tongue swiped a lick behind his ear, “Do you know how many people would throw a fit if they realised you had been out at sea alone?”

“No, but I’ll wager you would have been one if I hadn’t played an intelligent move and invited you to join me here,” Aragorn smirked gently.

Faramir snorted.

“Was Erchirion searching for his boat when you left?” Aragorn asked interestedly.

“Oh dear Eru, you took his boat and did not tell him?” Faramir asked, “This is his boat we are on?”

“Mmhmm,” Aragorn murmured as he nuzzled Faramir’s neck, his hands continuing to remain around the young man’s waist, holding him in place even as he tried to squirm away.

“You’re tickling me,” Faramir let out a small sound that was almost like a giggle, delighting Aragorn with the knowledge that his Steward could certainly laugh most beautifully.

“I am so glad you came,” he said softly, “I know it makes you uneasy to be at sea, but I wondered if perhaps you might not like to watch the sunset from here with me later in the evening. The view is most glorious and this is our last day here.”

“I would love to do so,” Faramir replied.

“Well, then stay right here, sweetheart,” Aragorn murmured gently turned Faramir so that they faced the sea, though he continued to keep his arms around Faramir, “It shall be beautiful,” he continued and then moved his hands up to Faramir’s chest and began undoing the uppermost laces of his tunic.

“But there is a while yet till the sun starts to set,” Faramir said moving his head a little to allow Aragorn to run his fingers over his collarbone and upper chest. He could feel the warmth of Aragorn’s breath fall over his exposed skin.

“And I know just what we can do to pass our time,” Aragorn replied and swiftly undoing the remaining laces, let the tunic fall open and hugged Faramir closer to him.

Faramir gasped softly, and glanced worriedly towards the shore.

“It is all right,” Aragorn said reassuringly, “No one comes by here these days.”

Faramir could well believe that. As a young boy visiting relatives here these parts of the coast had been his favourite hiding places. Few would venture here, and there would be none to see them stand here king and steward in each other’s arms, the king running his hands over his steward’s bare chest.

He watched interestedly as Aragorn’s fingers traced patterns over his skin, gently running over his ribs, dipping into his navel, pressing in just the slightest, splaying across his lower belly just above the waistband of his pants, and then moving back up to very gently squeeze his nipples until they were hard. Faramir closed his eyes, and moaned softly at the sensations that coursed through his body, with every touch. No matter how many times in these all too few days, they had lain in each others’ arms, touched each other, kissed and made love to each other, he could still not get enough of Aragorn’s nearness. The fingers on his bare skin still thrilled him.

As the hands moved away to rest on his hips now, he sagged back a little feeling slightly dazed. “Oh!” he murmured softly.

Aragorn held him closer, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction at they way Faramir reciprocated the desire for nearness that he too often felt. He felt other things too, an intense desire to love Faramir lavishly, to hold him in his arms like this as their bodies entwined in one, to join with him here out in the open air under the vastness of the blue skies above with the golden lights of the descending sun bathing them.

Faramir slumped into the hold letting his head rest against Aragorn’s chest, feeling the king’s hardness against his buttocks, reminding him of how constricting his own trousers felt. At that moment, Aragorn’s hands slipped into the waistband, pushing the fabric slightly and lowering the pants very slowly, until finally Faramir gasped almost in relief as he was freed from his clothing. The trousers dropped to his ankles.

Faramir turned, his eyes shining in delight and Aragorn lowered his mouth to kiss the younger man on his lips, as they clung to each other. Faramir busied himself with loosening Aragorn’s clothes, as the king explored his mouth thoroughly.

“Inside?” Aragorn asked hoarsely when they had to come apart to catch their breath.

“What of the sunset?” Faramir said teasingly, smiling as Aragorn’s hands snaked their way down to cup his buttocks and squeeze them lightly.

“If you want to see the sunset…” Aragorn sighed dramatically.

Faramir smiled in response.

“Well, I will just have to take you over that railing, then we can both watch the sun set as I make love to my beautiful steward.”

Faramir gasped at that, and then coloured a little at the words, not just of being taken over the railing but also at being called ‘beautiful’.

“Yes, we could do that,” he said softly, almost shyly.

Aragorn raised an expressive eyebrow, “Here, outside?” Faramir was a notoriously private person.

“Here. Outside,” Faramir said nodding, “With you. As long as you are there.”

Aragorn needed no second invitation. He had been afraid he would put Faramir off with his ‘interests’. He removed his own clothes as Faramir stepped out of the pants around his ankles. Faramir leaned over the railing, steadfastly ensuring that his eyes did not venture into the sea, and then turning smiled at Aragorn, who had retrieved a bottle of oil he was carrying and was now rubbing the substance into his hands and erect member. Faramir spread his legs out and smiled again at Aragorn.

Aragorn stood behind Faramir watching him quietly, watching the way the younger man had to lean forward and press down his lower body on the railing.

Aragorn leaned against him wrapping his arms around the slender waist and pressed against Faramir’s naked backside, letting his oil slick member brush against the soft skin. Faramir put one hand out to balance himself, leaning forward a little so that he could spread his legs. Aragorn responded by pressing against his slightly parted buttocks. Just pressing gently, brushing past his quivering entrance, yet not entering him.

Faramir moaned softly at the sensation and promptly pushed back against the hardness that pressed against his buttocks. He felt himself being gently nudged forward then and slowly a well-oiled finger pressed into him. He spread his legs wider, ignoring the initial stinging feel he always got and then relaxing, allowed his body to adjust to the intrusion. A second finger followed, and then a third, all pushing very gently into him, stretching the tight channel.

“Oh Aragorn,” he cried out his voice hoarse, “Please –“ He felt his groin throbbing and reached down only to be stopped by Aragorn’s tender grip, “Keep your hands on the railing,” Aragorn urged him in his ear, “And don’t worry, love, soon.”

The fingers left him, one by one, as slowly as they’d entered, and he sighed even louder.

Aragorn then gently nudged him more forward until he was leaning over the railing, the tops of his thighs pressing against the cold metal, his arm stretched out and gripping the cold metal tight, his legs spread wide. Aragorn then lifted Faramir’s member, and placed it over the railing allowing it to come in contact with the cold metal of the railing.

“Grip the railing well, darling,” Aragorn whispered in Faramir ear before pushing into him, slowly.

Faramir bucked the slightest, his grip on the railing tight, as he was entered lovingly and slowly, his body filling up with Aragorn’s hardness. Aragorn entered him completely and stayed that way a few seconds to allow Faramir to get his breath back, and then pulling out a little thrust into Faramir again, trying each time to hit that special spot in him. With each thrust Faramir bucked forward and with each movement, his engorged member slid along the railing causing him to cry out even louder. He continued to hold the railing though, and to attempt to keep his feet on the ground.

He moaned aloud one more time as another thrust sent him inching forward. His head stayed up, eyes focussing on the horizon, while the sun began to inch closer to the tops of the cliffs to the west.

“I’ll take care of you,” Aragorn’s voice spoke in his ear, loving and reassuring.

Aragorn grasped his member and Faramir cried out in pleasure as the oil-slicked fingers began running up and down it, kneading the hard flesh. Faramir closed his eyes, as feelings of pleasure assailed him all over. Aragorn continued to thrust into his sweet spot, while his erection was receiving ministrations unlike any it had experienced thus far.

“Aragorn!” he groaned hoarsely, as he attained his release. He thought he would explode, as the warm sticky liquid shot out, dripping onto the sea below, narrowly avoiding the deck of the ship. He watched it spiralling down hitting the water and wondered briefly whether to feel embarrassed at this strangely erotic sight, but then Aragorn gave another shallow thrust and all coherent thought flew out of his mind.

He let out a ragged sigh as his release kept shooting out. His reactions added to Aragorn’s excitement and it was not soon before the king to achieved his release, and Faramir felt the stickiness trickle down the inside of his legs, unsure whether it was his or Aragorn’s and quite uncaring.

He felt Aragorn pull out of him and then he felt his limbs suddenly going limp and found himself sagging, over the railing, the sea seemingly closer, until suddenly he was pulled back.

“Darling, are you all right?” Aragorn demanded, hugging him close.

“Mmhmm,” Faramir murmured softly into Aragorn’s chest, “So tired,” he pronounced.

Tired enough to nearly fall over, Aragorn decided grimly as he shepherded him onto the floor and sat down on the floor with him, “Look - the sunset,” he whispered, as the sun dipped into the sea just next to the line of cliffs, filling the surrounding water with a myriad of golden colours.

“It is beautiful,” Faramir said, sounding very sleepy.

Faramir fell into a light doze in Aragorn’s arms, watching the sight. The king continued to hold him, glad that he had had the foresight to inform Imrahil earlier that morning that he and Faramir would be sailing in the evening and would be late returning.

“Stay here,” he told the half-asleep Steward and rising, retrieved his cloak and spread it on the deck. He then gently tugged Faramir over onto it, and lying down next to him, used its vast spread to cover them as he felt a slight chill permeate the air. Faramir curled closer to Aragorn and leaned onto his chest.

Aragorn pulled him closer, and placed a light kiss on the dark hair.

There was more than the love that he saw in Faramir’s eyes that touched him. There was trust, and affection. It was there the very first time they’d made love to each other, it was there when Faramir had boarded the vessel this evening, putting away his fear of his seasickness, merely because Aragorn had reassured him the waters in the cove were calm. It was there when they made love over the railing. It was there even earlier than all of this, when Faramir had boarded the ship when they first arrived in Dol Amroth merely because Aragorn loved to sail, even during those long moments when Aragorn had drawn his Steward out of the darkness when their eyes had first met.

“We must leave soon, mustn’t we?” Faramir asked softly. A few early stars began flickering in the still light sky.

“We must return now,” Aragorn sighed heavily.

“A few more hours would have been nice,” Aragorn groused as they climbed up the path back to the castle.

“It certainly would have,” Faramir said smiling, “But it might also have brought out search parties! And the uncle would have sent us both to bed without dinner.”

Aragorn smirked, “Well, I could have satiated my hunger quite well without food and I still can. You fed the waters of the harbour. It is my turn now…”

“The fish may never be the same again,” Faramir smirked as the walls of the castle came into view, “Very well. Shall we meet in your rooms after returning or mine?”

They did receive dinner, Imrahil having received Aragorn’s note, although they had to deal with an annoyed though unable to express it openly Erchirion who could not imagine why they needed to borrow his boat among all those in Dol Amroth for a mere joyride or why they should have left it moored in some tiny little cove. That it was the first one Aragorn could find would probably not have suffice as a reply.

-end-

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