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Now That You’re Here (PG-13) Print

Written by Kissa

29 February 2008 | 1376 words

Disclaimer: It’s all lies… and fiction!
Author’s notes: Written for the 25fluffyfics table.
Prompt: 4. Dancing

He sat alone on his bed, wearing his best embroidered tunic, cream-colored leggings and new boots which shone even in the dark. He was crying bitterly, using a small square of linen to wipe off his tears and from time to time to blow his nose noisily.

He couldn’t go to the ball. He would never learn how to dance because his father had now forbidden him to be in the one place where he could learn: among the other youths his age, at the Midsummer Gathering. For some reason, the Steward had prohibited him to make an appearance at the ball, saying that he didn’t want noblemen’s daughters looking elsewhere than at Boromir. His father had even seemed terrified of the case where someone would pick Faramir, like him and dance with him… in public, shaming the house of the Stewards for ever.

And he had worked so hard to get the clothes! He had even sewn the small pearls himself, one by one to the collar of the tunic, after having designed the pattern. And he was supposed to be a warrior, not a seamstress!

He pouted in the dark. Boromir was probably there, having a blast and reveling in every cute girl’s attention… while he would have given anything to be allowed just one dance!

The terrace outside their room was right above the ballroom part where the players and singer stood, so Faramir could hear the music quite well even sitting inside the room.

And his tears kept falling, hot and bitter along his cheeks, over his lips and down his chin onto the fabric of the leggings, stretched over his knees.

He was about to change into his nightshirt and to file the evening as another memorable siege on his heart. He would have stayed away from girls if that was what his father wanted, but gods, he would die without ever having danced with someone!

The door to his room opened and in the light from outside he saw Boromir’s outline. The door was shut and for a while he saw nothing, heard nothing and felt nothing, then suddenly his brother sat on the bed right near him, hugging him from one side, pulling him against his chest. On the front of his brother’s tunic, Faramir could smell the perfume of each lady he had danced with. His sobs intensified, now even bitterer.

Boromir’s hands stroked him gently for a while, until the violent sobs calmed down.

“What is the matter, little one? Is it as big a secret to keep even from your brother who loves you more than anyone he ever knew in this world? Why are you not at the ball, having fun?”

“Father would not allow it.”

Boromir growled in the dark.

“You still have not told me why you are crying. “ He insisted.

A sniffle.

“Because all I ever wanted was to be shown how to dance! And because father will not let me go where the other youths are, I shall never learn and know what it feels like. He told me he even warned people downstairs not to dance with me if I did sneak up in there.”

“I will dance with you.” Boromir said in a soft purr.


A hand came to rest lightly on Faramir’s lips in the dark.

“I will not have you argue.” Boromir said and clasped his brother’s hands in his, standing up and pulling Faramir along.

“… You are not…” Faramir tried to state the obvious.

No, Boromir was no girl. He was just who he was, a young man troubled by how the need to protect and care for his little brother had turned into something different, something stronger which he felt he had to hide from everyone else. And now the chance had risen.

He brought Faramir by the large window and watched him in the clear moonlight. His hand came up to softly trace his little one’s features. In them he read something resembling resolution, and also trust, as the clear blue eyes looked up at him in adoration. Boromir fidgeted, feeling unworthy and suddenly under pressure to live up to the image his brother had constructed for him. He drew in a deep breath and smiled.

“You look wonderful, Faramir,” He spoke. “I cannot think of one reasonable man or woman in Gondor who would refuse dancing with you. But I am here now and I feel lucky to be allowed to show you. That is, if you would let me.” He said and kissed the tip of Faramir’s nose.

“Anything!” Came Faramir’s rushed reply, followed by a joined double giggle coming from the both of them. That had come out a bit too eager.

Fumbling behind the drape, Boromir opened the door to the terrace and pulled Faramir along outside. The moonlight wrapped them both in a surreal veil, making them look even more beautiful in each other’s eyes. Because that was how each of them saw the other. Beautiful.

Boromir listened to the music coming from below them and smiled at his brother, lifting the hand which still held Faramir’s and kissing delicate fingers one by one. His other arm went around his brother’s waist and pulled him close, very close. He then took a step sideways and Faramir followed clumsily, not before stepping directly on his booted foot.

“No, not like this. We are not under father’s scrutiny now. You must concentrate only on feeling good and on following the music. Let me lead you, sweet Faramir, let me show you how wonderful it can be!’ Boromir pleaded, wishing he had the guts to ask for more in the same eloquent manner.

Feeling Faramir give in and accept his lead, he sank his face into the auburn curls and whispered:

“That’s it, love, let go…”

He held Faramir close, so close they were touching from head to knee and it felt incredible. The older brother let his hands travel up and down Faramir’s gradually relaxing body. It first relaxed and allowed itself to be guided into the movements, then it began to move on its own, in response to Boromir’s body. They moved together to the rhythm of the music until the perfect silence was broken by Faramir’s distressed voice:

“They will notice you gone down there… Father will be upset. And I thank you, but it’s not necessary to sacrifice your own enjoyment to spoil me.”

“Shhh… hush Faramir, I do not wish to be downstairs. I’ve already excused myself for the night. When will you get it? I do not want to dance with them, I want to dance with you! Always…”

Faramir looked up in disbelief.

“Aye, little one, you fill my heart completely and no one can replace you.”

Faramir wanted to object, but he wouldn’t spoil whatever fun was left for Boromir with his whining.

Boromir was watching him for some reason, his green gaze fixed on him intently, and the smaller boy gulped. His brother’s gentle hand returned to his face and traced its contours again, and as he stared in wonder at how the moon gave Boromir’s skin an ivory glow, he felt lips on his own. Boromir’s. It took him one heartbeat to know, to finally know and also feel what he was to his brother. He opened up to the kiss and to everything it promised.

When they broke apart for air, Boromir whispered:

“My Faramir… by the way, have I told you how lovely your outfit is?”


Kissa’s 25fluffyfics

1. Picnic 2. Hobbies 3. Sport 4. Dancing 5. Holiday
6. Candles 7. Breakfast 8. Dinner 9. Blankets 10. Bath
11. Massage 12. Hurt 13. Nightmare 14. Home 15. Birthday
16. Puppy/kitten 17. Jealousy 18. Gift 19. Flowers 20. Protection
21. Sunset 22. Parting 23. Reunion 24. Emotions 25. Fate

Kissa’s 25fluffyfics

1. Picnic 2. Hobbies 3. Sport 4. Dancing 5. Holiday
6. Candles 7. Breakfast 8. Dinner 9. Blankets 10. Bath
11. Massage 12. Hurt 13. Nightmare 14. Home 15. Birthday
16. Puppy/kitten 17. Jealousy 18. Gift 19. Flowers 20. Protection
21. Sunset 22. Parting 23. Reunion 24. Emotions 25. Fate
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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1 Comment(s)

How I understand Boromir!
You write so sensitive!

— Anastasiya    Friday 20 November 2009, 21:27    #

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About the Author


For more stories by Kissa, see her LiveJournal.
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