Faramir Fiction Archive

That which you can never have (NC-17)

Written by Anorienbean

24 April 2007 | 23005 words

Chapter 3

True to his word, Haldir was back the next day, knocking softly on Faramir’s door just after the young man had been moved from his bed back to his window. As soon as Faramir’s eyes had opened that morning, he’d reached into the nightstand beside his bed where a fresh change of clothes was always kept, and, as usual, took almost half an hour to change his tunic and leggings. By the time his breakfast was brought to his room then bartered away and he was placed by the window, he head a soft knock on his door and felt his heart skip a beat. He really came back?

Moments later, Haldir entered the room as bidden, and sat on the edge of the bed, unable to quell his curiosity about the man before him. They talked of the weather for a few moments before Haldir realized that while he had seen trays being brought into other rooms, there was no food in Faramir’s room. When he asked why, Faramir’s face had flushed, and it took several minutes before Haldir learned the truth. He stood, exited the room without a word, and came back several moments later with a tray full of everything the kitchen had had to offer. He sat it on the table by Faramir’s chair and smiled.

“Oh, Gods, no,” Faramir tears well up in his eyes. Haldir had tried to be kind, but he truly did not understand how things worked at the sickhouse. “If I eat, then I will not be able to sit by the window during the days… It’s the deal I made with…”

“I will help you move,” Haldir assured him. “And when I return to Lothlórien, I will make sure to find someone to assist you afterward.”

Faramir’s despair was momentarily forgotten as he looked up in surprise. “You wish to come back another day, then?”

“Well, if you do not mind,” Haldir smiled. “It seems my friend Rulen will be here for several weeks, and I have no where else I need to be. The citizens of Gondor do not, for the most part, take kindly to Elves wandering around their fair city anyway.”

“You are more than welcome,” Faramir said warmly as he began eating the food from the tray and offered Haldir some. “I have not had any visitors for long years now, not since my tutors left.”

“Tutors?” Haldir straightened and shook his head. “Just how long have you been here, Faramir?”

As if it were the most natural thing in the world, Faramir shrugged. “Almost all my life,” he explained. “When I was very young, I got sick. The healers had no idea what was wrong, and, according to Enrif, were sure I was going to die. I eventually recovered, but whatever had made me ill destroyed the muscles in my legs. My father was, naturally, ashamed, and put me here…”

“Naturally?” Haldir could not mask the surprise and disgust in his voice at Faramir’s father. “There is nothing ‘natural’ about being ashamed of your own flesh and blood!”

Faramir shook his head. “Haldir, look at me. Would you want to be seen with someone such as me?”

Without hesitation, Haldir nodded. “I would be proud to be seen with you. If I were ashamed of you, would I be here now?”

As grateful as Faramir was for Haldir’s company, he knew that no one in their right mind would want to be seen in his presence out in the ‘real world’. He smoothly changed the subject so as not to embarrass the Elf further and though Haldir seemed slightly frustrated, he did not push the issue. By the time Faramir’s lunch had been brought to him and he excused himself long enough to be carried to the bathing rooms to relieve and quickly clean himself, he was thinking for the first time in his life that he might possibly have a friend. Despite this, he was surprised to find the Elf still waiting for him in his room when he returned, having visited Rulen and returned while Faramir had been occupied and seeming to be more than willing to spend the rest of the day talking with him.

Haldir, for his part, had winced at the rough, almost preoccupied way the aide had lifted Faramir, then practically dropped him back in his chair when he returned. Faramir, moaned softly as his spine hit the back of the chair, but seemed used to the treatment, though certainly not deserving of it.

Both Haldir and Faramir were surprised when Faramir’s dinner was delivered to find that Enrif had made sure there was enough food for two this time, unwilling to attract the ire of the Elf who had stormed into the kitchen that very morning, furious that one of the aids would dare take Faramir’s meal in exchange for simply moving him from his bed to his chair. They talked easily until, to their dismay, it was time for Faramir to return to his bed. A tall young man with a stooped shoulders and a fearful look toward Haldir picked Faramir up and deposited him unceremoniously onto his bed, then left as quickly as he’d arrived.

With a regretful sigh, Haldir wished Faramir a good night, and promised to see him the next day.

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