Faramir Fiction Archive

Darkness and Light (NC-17)

Written by Lilith and Minx

29 March 2004 | 29486 words

CHAPTER FIVE

Faramir slept the rest of the way back, Haldir and Aragorn taking turns carrying him. Lost in his own thoughts, Aragorn remembered little of the journey. His relief at finding Faramir alive surprised even him. Deep in his heart, he had despaired of ever seeing the young captain again, although he would have never let that thought surface. As the man slept in his arms he held him close, listening to each breath, feeling each heartbeat through the soft elven cloak.

At the same time, Faramir's reaction to him was troubling. True, they had started their quest wary of each other, but before Moria they had begun to be friends. Aragorn had even hoped that that friendship would grow into something much more. The ranger found himself strongly attracted to the young man, and had begun to think that his feelings might be returned. Now Faramir was literally fleeing from his touch. A part of him felt very hurt, but another part noticed how frightened and fragile Faramir had seemed. Perhaps Haldir was right. Faramir might not have realised that he was among friends. Who knew what those terrible creatures had done to him?

The sun was setting as finally the rescue party reached Caras Galadhon, and Aragorn was invited to take counsel with the Lady. Reluctantly leaving Faramir in Haldir's hands, he and Gimli joined their other companions who had gathered around the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood. It took him some while to tell them all that had occurred, and then longer to assure the others that Faramir was indeed alive, although injured, and that they could see him when he awoke.

It was several hours before Aragorn was able to search for Haldir. He found the elf in front of a small pavilion not unlike the larger one that he and the other companions had been given to share. Aragorn moved the curtain aside to see Faramir sleeping on his stomach upon the bed, a soft blanket pulled up to his neck. Aragorn could tell that the young man had been cleaned thoroughly; the ugly marks were now more visible in contrast with his pale skin. Aragorn sat down by his side and gently stroked the ashen cheek.

"He sleeps peacefully. The healers have left a draught for the pain," Haldir whispered, indicating a bowl nearby. "If you will stay with him a while, I shall go and find some clothes that may fit him."

Aragorn nodded, grateful for the opportunity to be alone with Faramir.

Haldir paused before he left. Then he turned back, his green eyes hard as steel. "The healers know something of the extent of his suffering." Very quietly, Haldir explained what they had discovered. It was as horrifying as Aragorn had dreaded and tears stung his eyes as his worst suspicions were confirmed. He felt sick to think that those foul creatures had toyed so with someone he loved, and abused him in such a terrible fashion.

"Oh, dear Faramir!" he cried out softly, when Haldir had gone, "I should never have left you!"

Taking Faramir's limp hand in his calloused one, he bent down and placed a soft kiss on his temple. He was pleasantly surprised to feel Faramir stirring under him.

Faramir awoke slowly, opening his eyes to the sight of Aragorn's face hovering over him. He blinked a few times, feeling somewhat disoriented. The pain had returned with awareness so he made no effort to move immediately. I was in Moria, he remembered, with that awful man. But this place looks different, and surely, this is Aragorn. But why was Aragorn holding his hand. And if this really was Aragorn, he couldn't be dead.

And then he remembered waking up outside. Aragorn had been there, along with someone else who had held him and comforted him. He stared at Aragorn quietly, unsure.

"Faramir," Aragorn said.

At the sound of that voice, Faramir snatched his hand away. It was so like the voice that he had heard denouncing him. This is another nightmare, he thought desperately, sitting up suddenly. Searing pain raced up his spine and he hissed audibly at the sensation. The blankets fell away, and he realised he was naked underneath, his wounds neatly bandaged. Then he looked at Aragorn again and, seeing the hurt expression on his face, fell back into despair. He had indeed failed, or else Aragorn would not look so.

Aragorn winced when Faramir pulled away from him. He could see the man was in obvious pain and was about to reach out and soothe him when Haldir returned to the room, holding some clothes in his hand.

"Oh, he's awake!" Haldir exclaimed, crossing to sit on the other side of Faramir's bed.

Aragorn watched in silent agony as Faramir promptly turned towards the elf.

"You're still here!" Faramir gasped out, his voice soft and raspy. He moved towards Haldir, pushing away the blankets and falling into Haldir's outstretched arms. "Wh – where am I?" he asked timidly. "I thought I was dreaming, but if you are here – I saw you earlier –"

"You are in Lórien, and I am Haldir, warden of the Lady Galadriel."

"In Lórien?" Faramir said in wonder, his voice still sounding hoarse, "B – but I was in Moria, and…" he trembled as unbidden images of his ordeal came back to him.

"Hush, you are safe now," Haldir said soothingly as he felt the young man tremble in his arms.

"But the others – the hobbits –" Faramir faltered, fearing for the fate of his companions.

"They are well. See, Aragorn is right here."

Faramir turned to look at Aragorn standing stiffly beside the bed.

"Oh! I – you're all right," he said feeling a little stupid, for he could think of nothing to say.

"Of course he is," Haldir assured him. "All your companions are."

"Th – they are?"

Faramir looked so doubtful at the statement that Aragorn was moved to sit down by his side. "Yes, they are," he said softly. "They are all here, and safe. All thanks to you."

Faramir could only stare at him in confusion. Aragorn felt his heart constrict as he saw that the man's earlier wariness still remained.

"They said you were lost –" he mumbled, "that you had fallen – that I let you down."

"But you didn't –" Aragorn started.

Faramir interrupted him," H –how did I get here?" He didn't understand. He had been inside that dark chamber with the Uruk-hai, and he knew that had been no dream. His aching body reminded him how real it was. And then that terrible pale man – and his mother, and Boromir, and even Aragorn.... Faramir shook his head to clear the confusion, remembering too late the pain that would cause. He closed his eyes as waves of pain racked his brain.

Aragorn noticed the tormented expression and ached to relieve his suffering. "We found you in Moria," Aragorn told him as gently as he could, "And we got you out as soon as we could."

"You returned?" he exclaimed as he realised what Aragorn meant. "You returned for me? To Moria?"

"I wanted to return sooner," Aragorn said, trying to fight back his tears. "Forgive me for not returning sooner!"

If I had reached you sooner, he thought miserably, you might not have suffered so much.

Why?" Faramir whispered in surprise.

Aragorn stared at him, the frail body sheltered in Haldir's arms. There was genuine confusion in the grey eyes. And suddenly the ranger did not know what to say. It seemed Faramir actually doubted that anyone, least of all Aragorn, would have returned for him.

*Does he really mistrust me so?* he thought despairingly as he searched in vain for an answer.

"We brought you out as soon as we found you," he said finally, skirting the question. "I was very worried for you, for what they might do to you –"

As his words broke off, Faramir suddenly remembered that he was naked under the blankets. He remembered Gríma had wrapped a cloak around him. Now there were bandages around all his wounds, and Haldir held him extremely carefully. Aragorn knows what has been done to me, he realised in horror. And Haldir does too, and probably everyone else as well. All of them knew now that the Uruk-hai and Gríma had used him as a whore, and not just once. Now they all knew that he was weak and craven.

He withdrew from Haldir's embrace a little too swiftly, his movement resulting in a small but heart-rending cry of pain.

"Don't move!" Haldir said worriedly, nevertheless letting the young man slip from his embrace.

"Do you need something for the pain?" Aragorn asked, reaching for the healers' bowl.

Faramir shook his head numbly, pulling the blankets closer around him, wishing to cover the signs of abuse.

"Is there anything you need?" Haldir asked gently. "I can have some food sent for you."

Faramir shook his head again, and shrank further into the covers, "My clothes," he murmured, and then remembered how they had been torn off his bare body before Lurtz had whipped him. He shut his eyes to wipe out the terrifying memory, but it was in vain.

"I brought you some clothes," Haldir said, "And a nightshirt as well. Would you like to put it on?"

Faramir nodded.

Aragorn rummaged among the clothes lying at the foot of the bed. He was glad to see that Haldir had eschewed the heavier velvet fabrics favoured by the Lórien elves, instead bringing a collection of garments in soft silks. He soon found the shimmering azure nightshirt and handed it to Faramir.

"Would you like me to help you dress?" he asked, seeing Faramir hesitate.

"No," Faramir replied quickly. "I – I am sorry, Aragorn, but I'm feeling a little tired."

"We will leave you to rest then," Haldir said getting up.

Faramir nodded gratefully.

"Are you sure you do not need anything else?" Aragorn asked once again, reluctant to leave. He wanted to stay by Faramir, but the younger man looked as though he did not want anyone at all around him. "I could stay if you like – should you wish to talk or – or – perhaps, would you like to see the others? Pippin asks about you." He knew Faramir was quite fond of Merry and Pippin, but the young man blanched at that.

"He needs rest, Aragorn," Haldir said firmly, a little annoyed by Aragorn's persistence. Surely, the man ought to be able to see that. He was supposed to have been trained as a healer by none other than Lord Elrond himself. There would be time enough for talk and noisy hobbit folk later. "We'll leave you to sleep awhile, child."

Aragorn stared at Haldir in annoyance and then turned back to Faramir. The young man was looking at Haldir reverently. "I should like that, thank you."

After he was sure they were gone, Faramir slowly pulled on the gown and curled up under the blankets miserably. He wasn't sure what to think. He had never expected to leave Moria alive; after Gríma had found him, he had thought he was destined for a worse fate in Isengard. But now he was in Lórien because Aragorn himself had brought him back. Aragorn had saved him!

But Aragorn came back for who I was before, Faramir reminded himself. He would never have returned if he had known the terrible things that they did to me – the terrible things I did! How can he even bear to look at me now?

Hugging the blankets tight against his broken body, Faramir slipped into an uneasy sleep.

---

Aragorn felt very irritated as he left the pavilion. He had sincerely wanted to care for Faramir, had in fact hoped that he could sit by his bedside through the night, but he could not bear to see the young man shy away from him. Not that he blamed him – he knew he might act like that until he had dealt with all that had happened to him – but he still hated to leave him alone. In a daze he returned to the pavilion he shared with the others. After washing up, Legolas persuaded him to indulge in a short rest.

Tired out by the multiple journeys he had made, Aragorn slept longer than he intended and the crescent moon was high in the sky when he awoke. When he returned hastily to Faramir's bedside, he found Haldir there already, a plate of uneaten food lying beside him. The elf was holding Faramir carefully in his arms, stroking his hair while singing softly to him. Faramir was mumbling something incoherently.

"He had a nightmare," Haldir said by way of explanation.

Aragorn sat quietly at the other side of the bed, his heart sinking as Faramir's words filtered through to his ears.

"Please – no," the young man kept sobbing over and over again, "It hurts -"

Aragorn's face went pale as he heard Faramir's anguished cries. Oh, my darling, why did I not come back for you sooner?

---

Faramir's horrific nightmares returned nearly every time he slept, and soon Haldir and Aragorn took turns watching over him, sometimes holding him as he slept, but usually just sitting beside his bed ready to comfort him when he awoke. On more than one occasion Aragorn tried to console him, only to be pushed away with anguished cries. He found it did no good to try to talk to Faramir when he was in this state. His voice seemed to send Faramir spiralling into greater depths of pain, it mattered not what he said. Instead he would murmur quietly in Elvish to him, the soft words calming Faramir's troubled mind.

The man's recovery was slow. He was unable to walk much without help and spent most of his time in his room, sleeping or simply lost in morose thought. Some days he allowed Aragorn to draw the curtains back to allow sunlight to stream in, but bright light seemed to bring his injuries into even starker relief and most of the time he preferred the shadowy glow of candlesticks, as though by hiding the marks he could for a brief while forget what he had been through. He remained withdrawn and quiet.

Haldir and Aragorn devoted themselves to tending his injuries, changing bandages and applying pastes daily, a painful ordeal that he bore stoically, but sometimes when he cleaned the wound in Faramir's inner thigh, Aragorn could see tears welling up in the younger man's eyes. Although he wanted nothing more than to gather the young man in his arms, kissing away his fears and anguish, he forced himself to be as clinical as possible when treating Faramir. The elf had recommended this approach, and considering the emotional trauma the Gondorian had endured, Aragorn had concurred.

Aragorn found himself concurring with much of the elf's counsel of late. The last time he had taken matters into his own hands had been disastrous. To lighten Faramir's heavy mood, Aragorn had tried to enliven him with a visit from the other members of the Fellowship.

Haldir, unaware of Aragorn's plans, had given him a pain draught so Faramir was sleeping deeply when they arrived. Pippin had rushed to his bedside to wake him up, but on seeing Faramir so ashen-faced, looking so much smaller and thinner, almost like a stranger, he had cried out in surprise.

Faramir nearly leapt out of bed at the sudden noise. It had taken a long while to calm him down and Aragorn could see that he was not only contrite about scaring Pippin but also ashamed of having cowered away from his friends. The rest of the visit had deteriorated rapidly. Gimli and Legolas had tried to be their usual selves, but that meant they had argued, and this seemed to make Faramir unwell. The hobbits were uncertain how to act, and so pretended that nothing had happened. Their boisterous tales failed to engage Faramir; he watched them silently, a wan expression on his face. Finally, in a halting voice, Faramir said he was tired, and they had quickly left. Aragorn had followed the others out, meeting the disapproving gaze of Haldir just outside the pavilion.

After they departed, Faramir fell into a fretful sleep, haunted by dreams of Uruk-hai, and blood, and his hobbit friends lying dead in the caverns of Moria.

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