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The King and The Ranger (R) Print

Written by Minx

30 March 2004 | 60419 words

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Chapter 11

Faramir stumbled back to his room where he sat heavily on his bed and took a few deep breaths. He could still feel the tingling sensation on his forehead where Aragorn had just kissed him.

And the touch of those wonderful hands on his back. He gave out a strangled sob at the thought. Once the effect of the herbs had worn out the night before, he had woken up, and found his memories full of Aragorn. When he tried to go back to sleep he dreamt of Aragorn’ s kisses on his back, of Aragorn’ s hands on his chest and of Aragorn’ s fingers inside him. Just the thought of that sent a wave of pleasure through his body and he found himself cursing. He did not want that1 He did not want to be reminded of the wonderful things Aragorn had done to him. He could never have those again.

“I need to go back to Ithilien,” he found himself rasping out to himself as silent sobs wracked his figure.

He curled up across his bed, heaving unhappily, letting his fingers clench the sheets for support.

All he had now were memories of Aragorn’ s little ‘indiscretion’ with him, for what other word could he give it? But even that indiscretion had remained incomplete.

The rest of the day brought little respite from the bleakness. Boromir called in the men he had deputed to track the movements of the people in the citadel had nothing to report as yet. No one had done anything extraordinary. They now had reams of useless information on the personal habits of all those men, but as Boromir had pointed out, most of such information, their father had already gathered. That at least three councillors spent more time with certain women from the cream of Gondor’s society was a fact recorded in a thin file in what was now Aragorn’ s study. That one of the eldest counsellors, a man who had never shown interest in taking a wife, now had a frequent female visitor half his age was a new fact but not one of much use.

“All we have learnt of is of their love lives,” Boromir snorted, when he met the others, “I had thirty people shadowed for two days, and that is what we learn. Cheating husbands and wedding bells-to-be!”

“It will take time I suppose,” Legolas said but his tone held a note of worry to it.

Did they have enough time?

“Nothing else at all?” Faramir asked despairingly, “No visits outside the city or to a different level than they usually frequent. No lords seen at those pubs in the lowest level where they say no self-respecting people are seen after sundown?”

“None! In fact few have left this circle or the one below, where most of the counsellors live. One of the cooks went out for a while yesterday but that was too meet his grandmother. Mardinel was away briefly today but that was to visit his father’s grave. Eredil it seems simply wandered the streets in the lower levels awhile yesterday in the evening, doing nothing particular. Saracel rode out of the city for a short period but again merely seemed to be seeking air. Another councillor, Gelardos rode out yesterday. We have nothing concrete to go on.”

“What do we do?” Faramir asked worriedly.

“Wait,” Legolas said.

“That is difficult,” Boromir opined, “We have an assassin on the loose.”

“There is no other choice,” the elf repeated unhappily, “but to guard Aragorn closely.”

Then Legolas questioned Faramir again on the events on the day of the assassination attempt, forcing him to think back carefully over whether he had noticed anything untoward.

“I had a feeling,” Faramir said wearily, “Something seemed wrong.”

“But you must have seen something to make you feel so,” Gimli said for what might have been the twentieth time, unable to accept that mere intuition had led Faramir to the balcony, “how could you know he was in danger? Is it not possible that you might have seen something and not realised it?”

“I just knew,” Faramir snapped out finally, “The same way I knew Boromir was in danger when he was attacked by the Orcs.”

Then Boromir made him recount the entire sequence of events yet again, and Faramir shut his eyes trying to string together disjointed vague memories of an immense pain, a tender voice and a loving embrace. Aragorn’ s embrace taking away the pain, Aragorn’ s touch acting as a soothing balm to cover his worry and the immense ache that had filled him then, Aragorn’ s voice full of love and tenderness . . .

He opened his eyes and realised that he was breathing heavily, while Boromir sat by him looking at him out of concerned eyes.

He sank back unhappily as Legolas laid a hand on his shoulder and said quietly, “I am sorry. You were hurt badly and the memory must be an unpleasant one. We will not trouble you anymore. You could not have noticed anything.”


Aragorn stood reading the piece of parchment in his hands, trying to concentrate on it. But his head felt heavy and ponderous. So he moved near the window and opened it to let in some fresh air. It was cold outside. There would be no one outside in such weather, he knew, so he wondered if he might not take a small stroll outside to clear his head.

A closer glance however did reveal that someone was there.

He watched the silent figure sitting unmoving upon a cold wooden bench. Just watching him made Aragorn’ s heart ache strongly. But so did the letter he held in his hands, the one that had come with the missives from Rohan, a letter from Arwen.

His eyes strayed toward the garden again. Faramir was still seated there hunched miserably in the cold. A cool breeze flitted through the leaves and he thought he saw the signs of a tremor ripple through the bent shoulders.

His feet moved of their own accord, and he soon found himself silently walking through the small shrubbery that led to the garden Faramir was seated in. He stopped behind a tree when he heard the faint murmuring. Apparently he had not been the only one to notice Faramir’s presence there. The steward of Gondor now sat with his younger brother.

He could hear their words clearly; faint though they were.

“But I do not see why you want to return to Ithilien so soon,” Boromir was saying.

“I need to,” came the reply.

“Why?”

“I cannot stay here, Boromir. The city is – it is stifling. I don’t-“

“Stifling?” Boromir’s voice sounded incredulous at that.

“I can’t take it any longer!”

“You cannot take what?” the steward’s voice still sounded surprised.

“The memories,” came the faint reply, “There are too many memories here. It is – it is hurtful,” came the halting reply.

“Memories, Faramir? What memories are these you speak of that hurt you so much. We have had nothing but good times in our life here!”

“Good times?” Faramir sounded surprised, “Yes, perhaps we have. But not of late.”

Aragorn stiffened at that.

“I do not understand you at all,” Boromir fumed, “are you telling me that you are tiring of the White City?”

“No,” came the response in a shuddering tone, “I tire of being reminded constantly of – of -,” he paused uncertainly before continuing, “I see the fire in my dreams.”

There was silence for a few seconds. Faramir had turned away from his brother’s gaze and Boromir in turn seemed unable to say anything.

“How was it for you while I was away?” the question seemed very sudden.

Faramir must have felt the same way for he did not respond immediately. Aragorn could see him turn towards Boromir in surprise.

“Was it very bad?” Boromir asked softly, “Did father say anything to you?”

“He missed you greatly,” Faramir replied in a colourless tone.

“Did he say anything to you?” Boromir repeated.

“Many things,” Faramir said tiredly, “but why bother with that now? What is over is over.”

“Faramir, what did he say?” the steward’s voice was firm.

“He wished he had not sent you on the quest,” Faramir said dully.

“And?” Boromir prompted, knowing there was more that his brother was not telling him.

“He wished you were not dead, that is all,” with that the younger man turned away from his brother again and continued watching the night sky, “Mithrandir said you had survived when he reached here just before the siege but he thought that was a falsehood.”

Faramir almost cried out as he felt his shoulders being wrenched around. Standing in the shrubbery, Aragorn nearly jumped out, intending to scold Boromir for such rough treatment, but stopped himself just in time.

Faramir was staring back at his brother, his face set.

“What else did he say? Tell me,” commanded Boromir.

“Why, Boromir? Why do you wish to know what will only hurt you?”

“Tell me.”

“Do you really wish to hear that father struck me when I told him I had dreamt of seeing you upon a boat? That he hit me so hard it scarred? That I fell so hard it broke the vase you loved so much? That he wished I had gone in your stead because he thought you were dead? That I agreed to lead the defence of the river because I had no desire to live after that?” there were tears choking through Faramir’s distraught voice.

Aragorn found himself clenching his fists. The younger man’s voice reflected nothing but complete despair.

So did the steward’s, “Faramir, I-“

“If I had not been so rash, he might still be alive, Boromir. My stupidity worsened his mind. It was my fault. If I had not been struck, he might have held on a little longer, at least till your return. If only he had seen you, he would have recovered from his mood. Oh, Boromir, forgive me! It is my fault!”

“No! It is not,” Boromir cried out in horror, and wrapped his arms around his brother’s trembling figure.

“Yes, it is,” came the sobbing voice, “I am useless.”

“No, you’re not!”

“Let me leave,” came the desperate plea, “I cannot take it here anymore.”

“Very well, after the treaty is signed then.”

“Can I not leave earlier?”

“You know you cannot be away during Aragorn’ s wedding! He will be sorely hurt if you do that.”

There was no reply to that statement. Just silence.

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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Thank the author

The following people read the story, enjoyed it, and would like to thank the author: Ophelia , traveller , maeglina , Lily Of the West , Radical , kasumi , Stacia , Melogale , , Mel

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11 Comment(s)


NB: Comments span all chapters and may contain spoilers!

This story was AMAZING! I loved how
1) There WAS a plot!
2) There was actual chracter development between Faramir and Aragorn…my FAV couple!

Great Job! Keep it up!

— FA4ever!    15 December 2008, 06:16    #

Hi FA4ever! Thank you for your kind comments. I’m really, really delighted that you liked this story so much!:)

— minx    18 December 2008, 22:06    #

Hi! I loved your story! =) It’s really great, Faramir and Aragorn are perfect, so are the other characters. Especially Legolas who is wonderful! ^^ (Arwen is scary! XD)
I read other fanfics you wrote, and I loved them as well. Your writing is very good!

(hum… Sorry, English is not my first language! :S )
Bye, Lily

— Lily Of the West    11 February 2009, 21:16    #

Thanks Lily! I’m very glad you liked the fics.

Thanks for reading and taking the time out to comment!

— minx    12 February 2009, 20:10    #

I so love your fics!!! I am very addicted to Fara/Ara stories. Perhaps is there a sequel awaiting. Please, say yes!!!!!!
Hugs
Ca.

— camille    24 February 2009, 19:16    #

Thank you Camille:) I’m not sure of a sequel to this one but yes, there are lots of A/F stories on their way:) thank you for reading this!

— Minx    1 March 2009, 18:42    #

Oh! It was gorgeous! It was simply unique! Especially the ending! You are a great writer!
Oh, poor Faramir… No, poor Aragorn… How long he waited that!!!
Thank you very much, Minx!

— Anastasiya    10 September 2009, 16:08    #

Thank you Anastasiya:) I’m really glad you liked it.

— minx    12 September 2009, 21:22    #

Wonderful story! Thank you for posting it!!

(Even though I know it’s been awhile…)

— Radical    28 May 2010, 03:46    #

Thank you Radical! I’m very glad you liked it:)

— Minx    4 June 2010, 20:19    #

Hello, just wanted to stop by and say how much I adore this fic. I must have read it a dozen times over the years. I hope Aragorn has been making it up to our sweet Fara all this time ;-)

— Laurelote    19 August 2012, 19:32    #

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Minx

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