Home » Fiction


This story is rated «NC-17», and carries the warnings «Incest».
Since you have switched on the adult content filter, this story is hidden. To read this story, you have to switch off the adult content filter. [what's this?]

Remember that whether you have the adult content filter switched on or off, this is always an adults only site.

How Could I Forget (NC-17) Print

Written by Laurëlóte

22 December 2007 | 7151 words

Title: How Could I Forget
Author: Laurëlóte
Beta: Minx
Pairing: Faramir / Boromir
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 6,989
Summary: Faramir wakes in the Houses of Healing to find that he has lost his memory.
Warnings: Incest
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they belong to Tolkien, I merely like to borrow them for my own pleasure.

NB: The type of amnesia I am attempting to portray here is dissociative amnesia which is brought on by great trauma. I am not by any means an expert in this illness.

Written for the 2007 Midwinter Swap.

Request by Dream_in_a_jar: I would like to read a Faramir who lost his memory after the waking up from the House of Healing scene. Like to see someone (man, such as Aragorn or even Boromir himself, or elf) helped him to recover his memory. Hurt/Comfort is preferred but not required. Angst. Any rating. Dark fic is ok. Author decides the level of amnesia.

How Could I forget?


Everything is dark. I cannot see, and I cannot feel. The first thing I become aware of is a light, just a tiny speck in the distance and it’s pulling me towards it, not physically, but pulling at my mind, urging me closer. At first I resist; I am comfortable in the darkness, but as the light grows stronger I find my resistance weakening.

I feel as though I am stumbling in the darkness, manoeuvring myself around unseen objects, just trying to reach that light, as a moth would to a flame. It seems to be taking forever, but just as I am about to give up I am there. Light floods my surroundings.

I open my eyes and look around. First, I see a man by my bedside. He has dark hair and grey eyes. I know instantly that he is the light that drew me from the darkness. I have never seen him before, but I know that he is my king.

And then, before I am able to look further, a man throws his arms around me. He is not dark, his hair is fair. He is rambling, I cannot take in his words but he obviously has been worried about me, yet I do not know him.

I cannot help but tense in his arms; the touch of this stranger is unwelcome to me, I turn my head away.

I can see the hurt and confusion in his eyes as he pulls away, and I feel so guilty, but I am powerless to stop it. I know that I should remember, that doubtless from his actions I should be relieved to see him and that I should cling to him as he did me, but I look at him and I see nothing, there is no recognition in my mind. I just do not remember him, just like I do not recognise this place or anything in it.

Suddenly the realisation hits me, I cannot remember anything. I do not know who I am or where I should be. My mind is blank, just an empty void. I feel the panic rising up within me and I try to keep it away but suddenly I can not breathe and I feel his strong arms around me once more trying to soothe, and I hear words telling me that all will be alright even as I fight to get away.

I am given a vial of liquid to drink. At first I want to knock it away from my lips not knowing what it will do to me, but I realise I have little energy left to resist.

I feel the darkness taking over even before I have drunk the full amount; I can not do anything but let the sleep take me.


Almost as soon as he is awake he is given a sedative to help him sleep. I do not know what caused his panic, nor do I know why he looks at me through emotionless eyes. I have seen that expression before, but never directed at me; it was his mask against the hurt and humiliation caused by our father; but he always let me see his pain.

The man who awoke was not the brother I know. I only hope that when he awakens he will be calmer and he can tell me what is wrong. Feeling him tense the way he did in my arms was heart-breaking, I cannot bear to think that he fears my touch, especially as I do not understand why.

I have held him often through his nightmares, my words never failing to calm him before. Now they only caused him to fight more. It was almost as if he did not know me.

As the drug sends him off to sleep, Aragorn tries to usher me away, but I do not want to leave him. I should never have left in the first place, then he would not be here now and he would be the one throwing his arms around me like he always did.

Reluctantly I leave, in my heart I know that it was I who caused him to panic and therefore it would be best if I was not there when he woke, but that is what hurts the most. I know that he will be well taken care of, and I know now for certain that he will live, and so I try to occupy my mind with something else. But it matters not what I do, all I can think of is that blank look upon his face as he looked at me.

When Aragorn returned to me later I was relieved to hear that Faramir was awake once more. The King explained that he believed that Faramir could not remember a thing about his past. My little brother did not know who he was and he did not remember me, just like he did not recognise anyone he saw.

I am not sure at which point my tears started to fall, but I know that as Aragorn started to explain to me that he did not know how long this memory loss would last, that it could even be permanent. I broke down in sobs and I wet my lord’s tunic with my tears as he tried to comfort me in vain.


The next time I awoke, I was pleased to see that the affectionate blonde was not by my bedside. It was not that I did not like him, in fact it was quite the contrary, I did instantly, and deep down I knew that I should know him, yet I did not; and that realisation made me feel both guilty and upset.

Looking around now I can see that in fact, I do not recognise anyone. Except of course my king who is once again sitting beside me, though how I know he is my king I do not know; I only know that it was he who pulled me from the shadows. Grabbing his hand, I decided I must confide in him, after all if he had helped save my life, perhaps he would be willing to help me in this also. The way that he looked at me made me believe I was right, he was a kind man and I knew he would do anything he could to help.

He leant forward so that we would not be overhead, as if he had sensed my nervousness about my condition.

“My lord, that man who was here earlier,” I began. “I did not know him. I do not know anyone here, nor do I recognise my surroundings, yet deep down I feel I should know it all.”

“I am not even sure I know myself,” I added quietly.

He looked at me sadly, but he did not seem surprised. I realised that he had feared that this was the case.

“You have been through a great trauma,” he explained carefully. “It is not unusual for the mind to shut down under such circumstances in an attempt to heal itself. Your memories will return to you, though how long that will take I do not know.”

“Now that you are awake I see no reason why you can not be taken to your quarters. I hope that there will be something there that will help to trigger off some memories,” Aragorn paused for a moment as if wondering how best to say what he wanted to. I knew instantly what it was regarding, and I knew that he feared upsetting me once more. “The man who was here earlier, he is your brother, Boromir. The two of you are very close, in fact everyone remarks on it. I should like to send him to tend to you. Speak with him. If anyone can help you regain your memory it will be him.”

I nodded to him, for what else could I do but agree? I knew that he was right, that if we were indeed as close as he suggested that he would be the one to help my find myself once more.

While my rooms were being prepared, I took the opportunity to reflect on everything that King Elessar had told me especially that that man was my brother. Boromir. I practised saying his name and how it sounded from my lips, and as I did so my eyes welled up with tears; I could not even remember my own brother’s name!

When I was finally taken to my rooms I spent much time looking around, I wanted to study everything and so I stared at each item intently, one by one, desperately seeking a spark of recognition; but to my despair there was nothing.

My concentration was broken when Boromir cautiously slipped his head around my door. I waved him in and tried to offer him a smile, but I know that it must have looked more like one of pity than of genuine warmth. He did not embrace me this time, something that in fact saddened me, along with the fact that he was so obviously as lost with what to say or do as I was myself.

“I am truly sorry for earlier,” I said quietly finally breaking the silence which lingered between us, and my words were true, I was ashamed for hurting him that way. “I am not myself. I believe that you would have been told of my condition?”

“Will you help me remember?” I pleaded.


Will you help me remember?

I promised myself that I would keep my distance knowing that he would come to me when he was ready for comfort, but the moment I heard those words my resolve broke. I gathered him in my arms and held him close the same way I had after many nightmares, holding him all night long. I noted with much relief that he did not tense this time, instead his body moulded to mine as if trying to absorb all the comfort it craved and my mind was taken back to all those childhood nightmares.

“I will do whatever I can, little one,” I replied, my voice almost breaking as once again I became choked with tears.

I was at a loss of what else to say. I wanted to help Faramir by telling him everything which he had forgotten, like the view from the highest tower of the citadel and to give him a tour of the city, but most of all I wanted to show him the white tree and tell him again of its significance. I wished he could see the white buds that were forming and to know exactly how momentous the occasion was. But Aragorn had suggested that I tell him as little as possible for otherwise I would be feeding him my own memories rather than encouraging him to remember his own.

“Do you see anything which looks familiar?” I asked gesturing around the room as I reluctantly pulled away from him. In truth, Faramir had little belongings and hardly anything which stood out as unique. I was not surprised then when he shook his head sadly and silence enveloped around us once more.

In past times, we could sit in silence for hours, not needing to speak. It was as if we knew exactly what the other was thinking. But now the silence was awkward and I hated every second of it; no longer could I read my brother’s mind.

I looked around for something, anything of significance, and at last I saw the perfect thing. I walked over to the book shelf and took a thin volume from it. The book was tattered and well read, Faramir had owned it for half his life, a gift from Mithrandir on his fifteenth birthday. Sitting down upon the chair beside my brother’s bed I opened the book and started to read. I just hoped that I could do the elvish words justice.


The elvish words flowed through me and I contented myself just to listen instead of dwelling on my plight. Boromir spoke well, although I could tell that he was a little uncertain at the language, struggling over the occasional words. I found myself concentrating, not on the words, but on Boromir’s voice which was so completely mesmerisingly beautiful to me. It seemed that my brother had one of those compelling voices that you just had to listen to.

He faltered a little on a particular paragraph, and somehow I knew that he had come to a word that he found particularly difficult to him, not realising what I was doing, I spoke the word from memory and then found myself finishing speaking the paragraph without needing to look at the book once.

I smiled happily when I realised that I remembered something; it may not have been much, but it was a start. Boromir smiled too and it was a smile so full of warmth that it all but melted my heart.

“You know this book word by word you have read it so often, and your skill with the elvish tongue is remarkable,” he said softly, explaining the importance of the book he had chosen.

We spent the rest of the day in each other’s company and to my surprise, I found it to be quite pleasant, and although there were a couple of awkward moments when silence fell between us, most of the day was spent in conversation as Boromir told me about the war and the quest of the fellowship. His words helped me somewhat, although it did not help me remember anything about my memories. But as was content in the fact that at least I now had some understanding of what had taken place in the grand scheme of things.

I expected my brother to leave me when the night fell, but to my surprise he did not. Instead he had a small cot brought into my room upon which he insisted he was going to sleep despite all my protests.

“It is not that I am not grateful,” I tried to explain. “But I just do not think that I am worthy such attention. You surely have better company with which to spend your time. Do not feel obliged to spend every hour of the day and night with me.”


I decided to stay with Faramir for the night for two reasons. The first was purely a selfish reason in that I was not yet ready to let him out of my sight, especially when I had come so close to losing him and when he was still so fragile. But the most important reason was simply for Faramir’s wellbeing. He had suffered from terribly nightmares his entire life, some of them things that had passed, some of things to come and sometimes just things that he feared may happen. During his childhood I had become my brother’s rock with dealing with these terrors of the night and I was not about to abandon him to them now.

What did frustrate me was Faramir’s low opinion of himself. It seemed as though even when he could remember nothing about himself, something in the back of his mind was still telling him he has inferior, and not for the first time since I had returned to Minas Tirith, I cursed our father for making him think that way.

In fact, I need not have worried. Faramir had quite a relaxing night’s sleep and so therefore did I, although I slept lightly waiting for any signal that my brother needed me.

The next few days passed much the same way, although Faramir’s patience was just about worn through. He had remembered nothing else and his nightmares had started the second night. He suffered from terrible mood swings, not knowing how to react to his lack of memory. He did not even know if such mood swings were normal for him, and that only served to make him even angrier at himself.

I could tell that he felt guilty every time he shouted at me, and so would go quiet and withdraw into himself instead. This in turn frustrated me and so we ended up just rubbing each other the wrong way.

I seriously debated going to Aragorn and asking if he could get someone else to sit with Faramir the next day. I felt that now, just less than a week since he had awoken from the darkness that my own presence was now more of a hindrance than a help, but I insisted that I would stay the night, rather than force him to spend the night alone.


I found myself becoming more and more frustrated with my brother. I had remembered nothing since the elvish folktale on that first day, and Boromir had done little to help me. In fact he had told me nothing, he just asked me question after question, trying to get me to remember more. Deep down I knew that he was doing it for my own good, but that did not help stop me becoming frustrated and irritable. I snapped at him far more often than I should, and he must have thought me a spoilt child, stomping my foot at not getting my own way. But in truth, that was not the only thing to mess with my emotions.

The first night that I had a nightmare I found Boromir gently encouraging me to wake, he was lying beside me upon the bed holding me in his arms and brushing my hair from my face with his fingertips. I felt myself shiver at his touch as a surge of energy passed through me, and I had not been able to get rid of that feeling since especially when he repeated the actions every night since. I had come to dread the night as much as I hated the frustrations of the day. I feared how I might react to my brother’s touch.

On, what he said would be the last night he spent with me the dream changed. I saw Boromir lying peacefully in a boat upon the river. At first I thought that he was sleeping, but when I got closer I knew that he had not. My brother had been pierced with arrows; the river bed was to become his final resting place.

I cried out in grief and broke down before the boat and I knew in that moment that I could not survive without Boromir in my life.

I was brought back to reality by Boromir himself whispering soothing words in my ear, telling me that it was just a dream, and that everything would be alright.

But it was not alright, I was terrified and confused; scared over the intensity of my feelings for my brother. I just did not understand them. All I wanted to do was cling to Boromir tightly and beg him never to leave me, instead I panicked.

“Leave me alone!” I all but screamed at him. “Can I not even sleep without you watching me? Go!”

He looked at me for a moment, paralysed in shock at my works and for a brief moment I caught the look of distress in his eyes before he fled from my side.


I am a warrior. I stand and fight my battles. If it had been any other but my sweet Faramir speaking to me that way I would have stayed giving them a few words of my own, but so unused to Faramir speaking to me in that way I completely crumbled.

I am not sure that Faramir has ever asked me to leave him alone before, we have always been so content in each other’s company. The fact that he has done so now has left me feeling quite empty. I tell myself that he did not mean it, that he is not himself but that does not make it any less painful.

Perhaps I had been smothering him, but I find that I can not help myself, I have always been so protective of him and I had come so close to losing him that I now felt uneasy when he was out of my sight.

I do not know when my feelings for Faramir changed from that of brothers to something much deeper, perhaps it had always been that way, but I had always tried to keep them hidden. Perhaps he knew. Perhaps he despised me because of it.

I tortured myself for hours. I could not get much rest and thoughts were spinning around my head. I needed to make things right. I needed to speak with my brother and make sure that he did not hate me, that his words were merely in the heat of the moment, a reaction to whatever nightmare he had had.

Eventually I gave up trying to rest and unlocked a cupboard in my room and took out a small box. The cupboard was always kept locked as it held my most precious treasures; this box was by far my most cherished.

The box was crudely made but very beautiful and highly polished, a gift from Faramir made by him when he was all but ten or eleven. Inside it contained all the letters he had ever sent me, I had kept them all.

Taking them out, I caressed each of the pages lovingly with my fingertips as if bestowing gentle touches upon the hand that had written them and lifted them up to my face pretending that I could still smell the unique scent of their writer. Once again my tears started to fall.

I just wanted my Faramir back.

More determined now I returned to his room, he would not push me away when he so obviously needed comfort. I would give him more space, but in the morning. He should not be alone in the darkness when he had only just come back to the light.

Although I was nervous as I approached his door, the moment I opened it my heart took over from my head and it felt as though I no longer had control of my own body’s actions.

I gently gathered up a sobbing Faramir, who had been lying on the cold stone floor, in my arms and held him close rocking him gently hoping to soothe his tears. I kissed his forehead and cheeks and told him that we would be alright. And I found, that to my amazement that I believed my own words, whatever this was that was happening between us, we would get through it.


The moment that Boromir fled my room I wanted to call out to him, to tell him that I was sorry, that I was just confused and I did not want him to leave. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out and I was left alone.

The last thing I wanted to do next was sleep for fear that my nightmare would return but I had taken some strong sleeping tonic which Aragorn had prepared for me, and so drowsiness took over and I fell back into a fitful sleep.

My dreams were not all bad this time, in fact they were good. I dreamt of Boromir and myself growing up, how he had always taken care of me and done his best to cheer me up when I was miserable. When I woke up a few hours later, I realised that these had not been dreams, but memories. To my joy I remembered my Boromir.

What I had done and said to him hit me at full force as I realised that this was the first time that I had pushed him away; I knew that I had to get to him and apologise.

I got out of bed gingerly. I had not tried to stand up and walk unaided since my injuries and my legs were very unstable beneath me. I took but two steps when my feet gave away from under me and I collapsed in a heap in the middle of the stone floor.

I was pathetic; I could not even walk by myself. I had destroyed everything and could do nothing towards making it right. I lay on the ground, not having the energy to move, and burst into tears.

That was exactly where Boromir found me when he returned to my room.

I was grateful to be in Boromir’s arms again and found myself snuggling into his embrace and feeling safe and warm. My brother had come back to me and for that my heart sang.

“Forgive me Bora” I whispered so quietly that I was not sure if he could hear me. “I love you.”


My heart skipped at beat at Faramir’s words, they were simply a delight to hear and I think I tightened my hold just a little for fear that this was just some cruel joke and that my Faramir was about to push me away once more. In fact, he just remained contentedly in my embrace until I became aware of the fact that we were sitting in the middle of the floor.

“Come on,” I said softly, moving my arms so I could lift him carefully. “Let me get you back into bed.”

Faramir just let me carry him and did not protest as he normally would and I feared that his earlier outburst had tired him somewhat.

“I remember you,” he murmured quietly and lifted his hand to stroke my cheek. His touch was so gentle and I had missed it terribly.

“I hope you only remember the good bits,” I joked softly but then chided myself for not having anything better to say. “What do you remember? Do you remember anything else?”

Faramir told me of the things he had seen and I could not help but smile as he talked about things that I had long forgotten. I was relieved that he had started to regain his memory and I desperately hoped that soon we would be able to start getting our lives back to normal, I had new duties to begin and I knew that Faramir would too.

Suddenly Faramir went quiet on me and looked away. I could tell instantly that there was more he wanted to say but that he dared not.

“Tell me what is bothering you,” I said simply. “You do know that you can tell me anything do you not?”

“It is just that, well, I am so confused,” began Faramir and I had to wait patiently for him to continue. “You have been so good to me, taking care of me, and now I understand why, but in the meantime I fear that my feelings for you have been developed into something somewhat unbrotherly.”

I should not have taken advantage at that moment, but before I had a moment to think I had leant forward and pressed my lips against his own. His lips were softer than I had expected and so much sweeter. The chaste kiss became deeper and he submitted to me perfectly until I realised what I was doing and pulled away.

“Gods, Fara, I am… You must forgive me!” I exclaimed as I tried to catch my breath. I knew now it was time for a revelation of my own. I had always thought that he would be disgusted with me, but then he had not pulled away from that kiss…

“I have always loved you Faramir. I do not know when the simple love of brothers changed to something deeper, but I have struggled with my feelings for you for many years now. I never said anything for fear of losing you. I should not have kissed you, but for a moment I believed that maybe you shared those feelings.”


When Boromir kissed me, well I simply have no words to describe it. It felt so right and so perfect. I knew that I could lose myself in his touch. But all too soon he pulled away and was apologising for what I knew was the best kiss of my life.

“Stop!” I demanded as I placed a finger to his lips. I did not want to listen to his apologies; I wanted to explore whatever this was between us. “Kiss me again.”

“Nay, I can not,” he said shaking his head. “I will not take advantage of you while you are so unsure of your own feelings. Your memories have started to return and hopefully within a few days you will be back to your old self. This can wait until you are sure it is what you really want.”

I thought about protesting but I did not. I knew enough about my Boromir now to know that when he said he wanted to wait until I was sure, he actually meant he wanted to wait until he was sure I was sure. I did not mind though, although I wanted to explore my feelings, him making me wait made me love him all the more.

Over the next few days my memory returned gradually and within a week I was sure that I remembered everything. Of course that brought with it its own set of problems; I was a bit of an emotional mess, especially when remembering what was my father’s, and so nearly my own, end. But as expected Boromir helped me through it all, he truly was my rock, and I knew that I owed him everything.

I decided that I wanted more, well at least I wanted to try, after all Boromir had told me he had felt that way for a long time and my own feelings for him had not subsided. In truth, I think that the feelings had always been there, it just took my losing my memory to bring them to the surface and for me to acknowledge them.

I spent hours debating exactly the best way to approach the subject with my brother, did I just come out and say it or did I try and subtly bring it into conversation? In the end, my body took over and I did none of those things.

Having started his new duties a couple of days previously, he came home one day looking particularly tired and confused. He had been trained a warrior and so the work of a scholar did not come easily to him.

He sat on the edge of the bed while I massaged his neck, trying to rid him some of the tension.

“I was not trained for this,” he said growling out his frustrations. “You should be doing this work, not I. You have always been far better at this sort of thing.”

Not wanting to have this conversation again, I had already tried to convince Boromir that he was a far better scholar than he gave himself credit for, I moved round and straddled his thighs so I was sitting across his lap.

“You are going to forget this. Tonight you are not going to worry about work, you are going to relax,” I commanded, and then I kissed him.


When Faramir kissed me, I thought I had died and gone to join my elders in Valar. I had dreamed of this so many times since our first kiss, but never once had I allowed myself to think that it would really happen. I returned the kiss hungrily, deepening it and snaking my tongue over his lips seeking entry into his mouth. He tasted so much sweeter than anything I had ever tasted and I heard myself moan as I wrapped my arms around him, one hand on his back urging him to move closer to me while the other wound itself in his auburn coloured curls.

Without me even noticing, my brother managed to untie the bindings of my tunic and he pushed me backwards, pinning my back and shoulders to the bed. His hands moved expertly over my chest and it seemed as though he knew exactly where to touch to heighten my desire.

Eventually we broke the kiss as we became breathless and as Faramir’s face remained barely an inch from my own I looked deep into his eyes. Any reservations I had about the reasons he was doing this vanished instantly, his eyes showed that he wanted this just as much as I did.

“Clothes, off,” was about all that I could say, wanted to see him properly, to look at him the way I knew was forbidden, but perhaps in a way, that made it all the sweeter.

Faramir simply smiled and stood up for a moment as he removed his tunic before helping me remove my own, pushing it up my body while placing gentle kisses on my skin as it became exposed to the night air.

Soon, to my delight, he stood before me in all his glory and I allowed my eyes to roam over him taking in every inch of his skin while I lay naked waiting for him upon the bed.


I drink in the sight of my brother lying beside me; this is the moment that I have been waiting for ever since our first kiss. I cannot even begin to put into words how much I desire him, it is in this moment as if there is nothing else in this word except each other, Middle Earth itself could be destroyed and we would remain oblivious.

I cover his body with my own and place kisses down his neck as Boromir’s hands roam down my back and he tries to whisper words of encouragement. I can tell that he is nervous, and in truth I am too, but somehow I know that we will be perfect together.

My brother thrives under my touch as my attention moves to his nipples and I tentatively nibble on a hardened bud. I love the way his body responds to me and it only results in arousing me more.

His hands move gently over my buttocks and to my thighs causing me to buck slightly in anticipation as he runs his fingers along the inside of them.

My eyes meet his and I am greeted with a look of uncertainty from Boromir and I realise that he is seeking permission to continue, making sure that I am still comfortable with the situation, and so I utter the words that I know he wants to hear:

“Gods, touch me Bora, Make me yours.”

His eyes darken with desire at my words and he takes control pulling me into a searing kiss, and in one fluid movement he reverses our positions and I find that suddenly I am the one that is pinned to the bed.

He tortures me with his touches and fairly soon I am begging for more, thankfully I do not have to wait as his hand gently strokes my manhood and I moan in delight.

What happens next is all a blur to me. I find myself feeling so many different sensations under my brother’s ministrations that I can not focus on just one thing that he is doing to me.


It feels so good having my brother beneath me, begging for my touch, and I want to give him everything I possibly can.

“You are so beautiful,” I tell him. “I want you so much.”

I am a little nervous as I position myself lower down his body and run my tongue experimentally along his throbbing erection but I notice in satisfaction that it twitches at my touch. Though I have had relationships with men before this is something I have never done and I am so anxious to please as I take his arousal into my mouth and move my lips along the length taking him into the back of my throat.

I do not stop what I am doing as I reach out and grab a bottle of ointment from beside Faramir’s bed. Its true use is to rub into his wounds to help prevent infection, but tonight I plan to use it for a different purpose.

Faramir is so distracted by what I am doing with my mouth that I do not know if he jumped in shock or in sheer pleasure as I ran a finger sleeked with some of the ointment along the crack of his buttocks and gently tease his entrance before pushing the tip of my finger gently inside of him.

“Gods, yes!” he cries as he pushes back on my finger suddenly desperate for more contact and I am more than happy to oblige as I set about stretching him, first with one finger and then with two.

I curled my fingers round and brushed them over the bundle of nerves that I knew was there causing Faramir to cry out in pleasure. He looks so beautiful in the throes of passion that I am determined to see it again and again.

I love the fact that he begged me for more, that he was desperate for my touch, and on another occasion I might have tortured him a little longer just to enjoy his frustrations, but this time I gave into his pleas, for in truth I was just as eager as he was.

As soon as I felt that he was ready, that Faramir would not get hurt in any way, I carefully removed my fingers and wrapping his legs around my waist I positioned my erection at his entrance and then paused for a moment to compose myself.


I could feel myself falling in love with Boromir time and time again; he was so gentle and careful with me that it made my heart sing. When I felt him position himself ready to enter me and then go no further I felt that I would die of anticipation.

The way he looked at me was with a mixture of love, desire and pure devotion and I found that I could not tear my gaze away from him. Sensing that he was ready and was just waiting for some signal before moving onto the next step I gave a small nod; speaking was far beyond me now.

As he breached me slowly I was overwhelmed with a sense of completeness as if part of me had been missing all my life and I had not realised it, only now to be returned.

In my eagerness I pushed myself back sheathing myself fully around his erection. It hurt a little and I winced causing Boromir to panic but it was not he who had hurt me so I stilled him with my hand.

“Gods, you feel incredible Boromir,” I exclaimed when I finally found my tongue only for it to vanish again as soon as Boromir started to move within me.

He moved slowly at first, allowing my body to get used to the sensations I felt and I found myself moaning in pleasure at each thrust. I was just beginning to believe that nothing would ever feel as good when my brother changed his angle ever so slightly so that he brushed the bundle of nerves inside me with each thrust. Stars danced across my eyes as I found my body twisting and responding in a way that was beyond my control.

I nipped at his neck with my teeth, wanting to mark him as my own, and as I did so I licked the red patch gently to soothe it and whispered seductively in Boromir’s ear:

“Now you are mine forever for I will not let you go. I love you.”


I love you

Faramir’s words pushed me closer to the edge, though in truth I had been right there from the moment I had first laid my eyes upon his body. I knew that I would never tire of hearing my brother say that he loved me. He had said it before of course, but not like this, now it was so completely different.

“And you are mine,” I reply huskily in his ear, my throat having run dry a long time ago. “Come with me now, let us complete this bond between us.”

I took the groan of sheer pleasure from my brother’s lips as one of consent and I allowed myself to let go and I was sent spiralling over the edge, spilling my seed inside of my brother with a primal cry.

I collapsed on top of him in a state of complete exhaustion and held him tightly becoming overwhelmed with the emotion of the moment.

I had kept my feelings for Faramir secret for many years and now, not only did I have the Valar to thank for returning him to me but for giving me the most precious gift of his love. As I drifted off to sleep with him in my arms I swore that I would make sure that no one would ever hurt him again.


As I felt Boromir lose himself within me I could do nothing else but follow, I did not even need to touch my own erection, my release followed barely moments after my brothers.

I held my brother tightly as he collapsed against me; I was determined that nothing was going to part him from me now. It was only when I was sure that Boromir was asleep that I let my tears fall.

This time, they were not tears of sadness, but those of joy, from getting carried away with the moment. I knew that I would always be thankful that I was alive and that my memory had returned to me and for this chance of happiness that I had been given. But one thing continued to stump me still…

How could I have ever forgotten my Boromir?

NB: Please do not distribute (by any means, including email) or repost this story (including translations) without the author's prior permission. [ more ]

Enjoyed this story? Then be sure to let the author know by posting a comment at https://www.faramirfiction.com/fiction/how-could-i-forget. Positive feedback is what keeps authors writing more stories!

9 Comment(s)

Wow! This is exactly what I wished for, and even better than what I dreamed of!
Thank you very much for this lovely writing. It seemed you could read my mind when you read my request! Because I always, always, love the Faramir/Boromir pairing, and the classic ways of their hiding the feelings from each other. And how wonderful it is to have Boromir returned from the Quest! I also liked the up and down the brothers experienced with Faramir’s recovery. And liked the idea that when it came back, it came back naturally, through the dreams. Isn’t Faramir the most famous dreamer of the Middle Earth?
Thanks a lot for writing this sense I longed to read!

dream.in.a.jar    Sunday 23 December 2007, 12:28    #

Hee hee Live Boromir! What could be hotter? Few things I can think of right now …
I know how much you’ve fussed over this fic and I find that every effort was justified :)

I love Boromir/Faramir stories, especially NC-17 rated ones, and I always think there aren’t enough good ones around.

What a treat!!!

Thanks again to the Birthday Girl!


— Kissa    Sunday 23 December 2007, 19:13    #

Dream.In.a.Jar – I fell in love with your request the moment I received it, and for me, there was only one pairing possible – after all who is best qualified to help Faramir regain his memory?

I am absolutely delighted that you enjoyed the fic so much, I spent much time agonising over it and I am sure you know only too well that it can be quite nail-biting waiting to see what the person who requested it thought.

I am so pleased I could fulfill your request so completely

Laurelote    Monday 24 December 2007, 11:45    #

Kissa – I am glad that you now approve of my efforts, I know I can (and frequently do) overly worry about every tiny detail.

I agree that there aren’t enough good Faramir/Boromir NC-17 fics around, but I hope this qualifies as one of them! hugs

Laurelote    Monday 24 December 2007, 13:09    #

This was wonderful. It was tender, angsty, erotic – the whole deal!

— Luthien    Monday 7 January 2008, 7:59    #

Thanks Luthien :)

Laurelote    Tuesday 8 January 2008, 15:31    #

Wow – that is a great story! Loved every single word of it, Boromir’s patience, Faramir’s despair, the blossoming realisation of their love,… Thank you so much for writing it. Love, Phytha

— Phytha    Sunday 10 February 2008, 4:08    #

Thanks for your lovely feedback Phytha :) Our poor guys suffered terribly in this one, it was a particularly confusing time for poor Faramir :(

I’m very glad that you enjoyed it :)

laurelote    Sunday 9 March 2008, 21:41    #

God I love you for writing this… I will be returning to it… You made me.. hard to describe in english.. soul-sick. Longing, sad ,all that.. But in a wonderful way.

— Ula    Monday 9 November 2009, 21:03    #

Subscribe to comments | Get comments by email | View all recent comments


  Textile help

All fields except 'Web' are required. The 'submit' button will become active after you've clicked 'preview'.
Your email address will NOT be displayed publicly. It will only be sent to the author so she (he) can reply to your comment in private. If you want to keep track of comments on this article, you can subscribe to its comments feed.

About the Author


For more of her work, see her LiveJournal Feed link