Faramir Fiction Archive

That which you can never have (NC-17)

24 April 2007 | 23005 words

Chapter 7

The days passed in a happy haze for Faramir. He found out that what he and Haldir had shared could be done again and again, and after the second day, when his hand had tentatively wandered down to Haldir’s length, he discovered that he could do just as Haldir did, and bring the Elf he knew he was in love with the same kind of relief that Haldir had offered him.

He’d never in his life been happier, and in the back of his mind, he wondered when it would all end.

That question was answered the day his father returned to Gondor and spoke with Enrif.

It was early, as Denethor would usually only come to the sickhouse just after midnight, least someone see him going in to such a place. He’d talked with the healer for almost an hour, then stormed into Faramir’s room, blinded with rage. Faramir was asleep, dreaming of Haldir, counting the hours until they could be together again even in his dreams. He awoke to the slamming of his door, and immediately felt a searing pain on his scalp as his father grabbed him by the hair, pulled him from the bed, and threw him unceremoniously to the floor.

Denethor raged at him for going outside, for daring to speak to an Elf that might tell someone that the steward’s youngest son lived, for even thinking that he could get away with such foolishness. And then, worst of all, he picked Faramir up by his sleeping shirt until they were nose to nose, and gritted his teeth. “I wish you had died,” his father ground out as he slapped his son hard across his face. “Every single day of my life, I wish you had died, you worthless, stupid boy! You never were worth all the trouble you caused!”

With that, he flung Faramir away from him, back onto the floor. Faramir’s temple hit the edge of his nightstand, and he whimpered softly, afraid to do anything more.

Then, Denethor left the room, picked something up that he’d left in the hallway, and came back with an armload of wood. “Here is that absurd chair your ridiculous Elf made for you! And if you ever step outside of this house again, I will kill this Elf, and make you watch… and then I will happily kill you!” He leaned over, so close his breath across Faramir’s face made Faramir shiver with disgust. “Do I make myself clear?”

Tears ran freely down Faramir’s face, as he nodded, terrified beyond anything he’d ever known. His father’s foot pulled back and made contact with Faramir’s hip, kicking him so hard, he was knocked into the bed, bruising his ribs.

“Tell him you never want to see him again, tell him I forbid you to speak with him… tell him whatever you have to, but make sure he never comes back here,” Denethor growled. “If you do not convince him, his death will be on your hands.”

He left as quickly as he came, slamming the door behind him, leaving Faramir in tears on the floor, sobbing helplessly.

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