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The Price (R) Print

Written by Minx

28 February 2003 | 34809 words

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Chapter 12

“When do you leave for Lórien?” the question snapped Haldir out of his reverie. He stared back at Faramir’s wan but composed face, eyes still closed.

He wondered what to answer. He should never have started this. Should never have succumbed to the temptation. He laid down the bowl of salve he had been holding, and re-tied the robe around Faramir’s slender body.

The scraping of the door made him look up. Boromir had entered with a tray of food in his hands.

“Is he sleeping?” he asked Haldir softly, taking in the sight of his brother lying on his side.

“Boromir,” the younger man’s voice reflected the smile that shone on his face, as he attempted to turn over and sit up, ignoring his stiff muscles.

“Lie still,” Haldir commanded immediately. Boromir placed the tray down and came and sat on the bed. Leaning down, he brushed Faramir’s forehead with a light kiss.

“I have brought you some food.”

Faramir made a grunting noise of some kind, and turned his face towards his pillow.

“You must eat, you are thinning,” Haldir added to the coaxing.

So he ate, and allowed them to fuss over him after that, change his robe for a fresh one, brush out the tangles in his hair, and fluff up his pillows. Sleep came soon, almost without realization. He had sagged against someone yet again. And this time the nightmares were kept at bay. Each time the horror arose it was driven away by a loving caress, and by gentle words. When he woke with the sun, Haldir was holding him in his arms, watching him. He straightened himself slowly, annoyed to find that the pain had still not left his body, and stiffly leant forward.

“Where is Boromir?”

“I sent him to sleep in my chambers. The couch can be very uncomfortable.”

“And he was loathe to pull me out of your arms?” Faramir’s mouth quirked up in a wry smile as he spoke, “Did you sleep well?” he inquired, leaning into the elf’s face, bringing his lips close to his, and then pouncing on them hungrily before the other could reply.

Any hesitation Haldir might have felt about their intimacy was promptly dispelled, and he kissed back fervently. Faramir’s intimate caresses across his body, down his back, over his thighs, feathery touches on his groin, all sent shudders through Haldir’s aroused body. He slipped a hand through what he felt was a totally unnecessary robe, and explored the by now completely familiar body in his arms, carefully and gently, running his soft hands over the skin underneath, taking delight in simple pleasures that were all that could be afforded.

Drawing back gasping for air, he looked back at the disheveled face, and then frowned slightly, “You have a fever,” he said quietly, “it did not increase during the night so we thought we would let you sleep over it, but I see it has not left you yet. “

“It is naught,” Faramir whispered.

The fever did not worsen but it did not abate greatly either, and indeed added to the young man’s discomfort greatly. For now he found he had a headache to add to his woes. Neither did it make for speedy healing. Faramir was no closer to getting out of bed, his body still suffering much. As the day before, Boromir stayed with him a while, and then left for the council, but refused to speak of it to him, telling him they would discuss it when he got better. Denethor did not visit him all day.

Haldir came during the noon hour with food, kisses, and more gentle caresses. Both were left feeling an aching fire in their insides that they knew would be impossible to quench or to satisfy at that moment.

The afternoon passed by in sleep, and as the evening hours neared Boromir arrived, his face tired and drawn, sighing deeply as he seated himself by his brother.

“How goes the council?” Faramir asked softly.

“Not as hoped,” Boromir admitted.

“Father requests an alliance to fight the foes to our east, does he not?”

“Aye.”

“And it is not forthcoming?”

“We are told we are not alone in fighting the fell forces. But we bear their largest brunt and none will see that. Rohan offers help but not much they say for they face dangers closer to their own land. The elves say their might is concentrated on the growing evil over their own lands. As do the dwarfs.”

“What does father say?”

“Naught, but he despairs. We at Gondor must face our travails alone, it appears, and so he despairs.”

“If we must, we must,” Faramir said softly, “You must not let him despair, Boromir. Show him that there is still hope. Even if we must do so alone, we must fight.”

Boromir smiled softly, and then reached out to hug his younger brother gently, “Brave words, young one, and they bring much succour to me. Aye, now is no time to give into despair. While we can fight it we must.”

“What says Haldir to all this,” Faramir asked quietly.

“What can he say?” Boromir sighed once again, “I know myself that Lothlórien faces many a grave danger. They will not commit to an alliance. Their folk remain few, and what they have they require to fight off the forces of Dol Guldur. But father is much angered. He harks back to the days of Cirion when their aid was requested from the far north but was not forthcoming. Haldir brings tidings from the Lady of the Golden Wood that now is not the time they can offer help.”

“Now is not the time?” Faramir pondered curiously, “Then when is the time?”

“Father deems it akin to wizard talk. As Mithrandir would speak, he says.”

“Which may be why he did not invite him to the council,” Faramir pointed out.

“He will try once again on the morrow, he says, if even the dwarf folk agree, he feels there is hope.”

“And now he no longer has Fenekor’s promise of help either,” Faramir whispered.

The brotherly hug tightened, “Do not talk of that again! Not for anything would I have agreed to such help. Oh Faramir!”

“All this for naught,” his younger brother muttered bitterly, “Neither the forces nor the intelligence on their troops have we now. All for naught!” A single tear rolled down one cheek, as the embrace tightened further, and the two brothers sat together, supporting each other against what seemed to be a future of unending despair.

Haldir joined them a while later, gazing at Boromir when he entered, wondering how Denethor’s elder son would behave towards him, after the events of the day. When he received a small smile of welcome, he sighed inwardly in relief, and joined the two brothers.

“How do you fare?” he asked the younger man.

“Quite well,” Faramir said, resulting in the other two shaking their heads. The fine glimmer of sweat on his face told them the truth.

“Do you leave soon?” Faramir asked softly.

Haldir bit his lip irresolutely, “I understand Gondor’s need for help, and I realise there is much good in Denethor’s proposal, but we of Lothlórien are badly pressed ourselves.”

“I understand,” Boromir interjected sadly, “We spoke long of such matters at our last meeting. Things have not changed in either of our lands in that span of time.”

“No. If they have changed they have done so for the worse,” Haldir said, “And while I would personally like to stay on here and help my two friends, my duty to Lothlórien compels me to return soon.” He evaded Faramir’s glance as he spoke, picturing in his own mind the young man’s face, a smiling face, not the unhappy face he knew he would see if he looked at him.

“That is understandable,” Faramir’s voice came through softly, “We all have a duty we were born to serve. ‘Tis the times we dwell in. They dictate that that duty come first and all else be laid aside. You have the Golden Wood to render your services to, and Boromir and I have Gondor.“

Haldir looked up into the face of the one he loved. Sadness tinged it, and so did resignation, “But a time will come when we can pick up what we lay aside now,” he said softly but firmly, gazing into the very depths of the grey eyes resting on him, watching the spark of hope his words kindled in them for the veriest second.

“Perhaps,” Faramir whispered, a small smile playing on his lips.

“I would look forward to such a day,” Boromir added heavily.

“Will you not sit, Haldir?” Faramir asked courteously.

Haldir’s returned him a troubled gaze, “I need to look into our preparations for departure,” he found his voice cracking a little much to his surprise, and with great effort continued, “But I will rejoin you shortly.”

Faramir nodded about to say something but then found his mouth widening into a yawn.

“Sleep now young one, so much talk will tire you out,” Boromir rose, “I will leave you in solitude for a while, and see to some chores. Will you need any help, Haldir? It will give us time to talk of the old days, and whatever else it is old friends who meet but rarely talk over.”

They left shutting the door gently behind them.

“What news of Fenekor and of Dorec’s assassin?” Haldir asked.

“The assassin was a spy, he killed Dorec to avoid being exposed when they suddenly came upon each other in the citadel. He must have managed to get the news about Fenekor’s betrayal through however, for our rangers report that his company near the southern borders was escorted back to Harad. They have made no move yet over Dorec’s death, and we do not think they will as he was killed by their own agent. Of Fenekor there has been no word. All that could be found were traces of his clothes, and his discarded weapons. It is strange, is it not, that we find one enemy getting rid of another for us?”


When Faramir awoke two hours later from a deep sleep happily bereft of dreams, they had both returned, and sat bent over a chessboard in the pale late evening light, fast fading into night. They turned towards him as the sheets rustled with his waking movements.

“We have just supped early,” Boromir told him, “and your food awaits you too. How do you feel?” He placed a hand against Faramir’s forehead, finding it still a little clammy, but cooler than earlier.

Faramir ate the food slowly, but refused the tea, saying he wished to stay up awhile, having just awoken. Boromir smiled, “Very well, but do not stay up for too long. I shall retire for the day now for I am required early in the morning at a meeting with father. Haldir, would you like to spend some more time with Faramir?”

Haldir rose from his chair, “If he will like to,” he said.

“I am sure he will,” Boromir said softly, gazing from brother to friend, “I will be in the chamber two doors away, if you require anything. Sleep well.”

Faramir searched his brother’s face as he heard his words and noticed his gaze shift across them, wondering if he had guessed his feelings for Haldir. He never hid anything from him, but this was something he had not had the time to talk over, and as he found out now, did not have the inclination to do so either. He bid Boromir a good night in return and after his brother had left cocked an eyebrow at Haldir who had also turned a thoughtful gaze on the older man’s retreating back. He now turned towards Faramir, and seeing the question in his eyes, replied, “Nay he asked me naught, and I mentioned nothing to him.”

“Then he is more astute than I give him credit for,” Faramir said calmly, making the elf smile. He was beginning to get glimpses of the real young man hidden behind the broken body.

“Where it concerns you, I fear he will always be astute,” he replied, making Faramir smile now.

“We have very little time,” the man murmured.

“Too little,” Haldir said raggedly, coming and sitting on the bed, but not coming any closer. Faramir put out his hand, but he did not take it. The young man did not draw back. Instead the hand remained where it was.

“You are afraid that what you experience will leave you yearning for more when you cannot have it,” Faramir said softly, “But are you not afraid of wondering in the future about what may have been?”

“You are much too astute yourself,” Haldir sighed and reached out, grasping the slender hand, intertwining their fingers together, and then moved himself closer, giving in to demands of heart and body. Soft kisses and gentle touches were shared, both satiating their desires in the very presence of the other. Lying in each other’s arms all night, the intimacy was enough for them. No words were spoken, for none were required. Their love surrounded them unsaid, undeclared but not unknown to either. It was enough. The inability to consummate their relationship was no barrier as long as the thrall of their love held them in its sway.

Just holding Faramir in his hands gave Haldir a satisfaction that he had never felt before, not with anyone. They were up all night, each reveling in the touch of the other’s body, in the feel of his lips on the other’s, in their locked hands.

When the sun peeped over the horizon, filling the sky with a golden colour, Haldir entangled himself, and looked upon Faramir’s face with remorse, “You should not have stayed up all night! What was I thinking? You are unwell!”

“I have never felt better ever before. You should consider becoming a healer,” Faramir replied lazily, trying not to yawn as the effects of a sleepless night made their presence felt. He tried stretching himself, then gave up the effort and lay back tiredly instead.

“Flippancy will not mask the seriousness of this situation,” Haldir grumbled straightening out his mussed up clothes.

Faramir shrugged, and merely leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek, “At least I can sleep now. You will have to attend the council, and I can guarantee it will not be without acrimony.”

“I am an elf. We have far better endurance than men,” Haldir retorted pertly, trying to hide the sudden blush he felt creeping up when he received that peck on his cheek from Faramir. It somehow felt very domestic to him. Their kisses had reeked of passion, but that one simple peck spoke to him of the love Faramir felt for him.

“I must leave now,” Haldir mumbled, getting up. He could feel a strange pricking in his eyes, and he realised he felt like crying, and he did not want Faramir to see that. The fact that they would part soon had finally hit him with a force like never before. He composed his features as best as he could and turned to the man.

“I will see you before I leave,” he promised.

The council broke up that day, it’s results amounting to nothing but a widening of differences among everyone there. Finally the visitors prepared to depart. Haldir packed away a few remaining things, and then prepared to go through what he had been dreading all the while – bidding Faramir farewell. He turned to the door, and gasped to see Faramir standing there against the door for support.

“How did you reach here?” he exclaimed, seeing the man alone.

“Boromir’s chamber is in the same passageway, surely you knew that?” Faramir said.

“Yes, but you should not be out of bed!”

“I am no invalid, Haldir. I would not be content with myself if I do not bid you farewell properly,” He moved forward haltingly into Haldir’s embrace, and they stood in each other’s arms contentedly, deriving warmth and love, and shared a long, lingering kiss to have a memory to hold on to, separating only upon hearing the knock on the door.

“Haldir,” Faramir noticed one of the elves that had accompanied Haldir standing at the door, “The horses are ready.”

The moment had come. And even if anticipated, it still tore at the hearts of both. They exchanged silent glances, and when the other elf had left, shared a brief embrace. Looking into each other’s eyes, they saw sadness and love.

“I am grateful to have met you, Haldir, even if we must part now,” Faramir said quietly, resting his cheek against the elf’s shoulder. It took him everything he had to remain composed but he did it, not wishing to add to Haldir’s sorrow. All morning he had coached himself to do so, holding back his sadness, burying it away into a far corner.

“And I to have met you, Faramir.”

“And someday I hope we meet again, once these troubles have been negotiated,” Faramir murmured.

Haldir closed his eyes. Faramir was so young. And so full of hope. All these years, all these millennia, he himself had been fighting the very foes that deemed their need to separate, wondering when they would dissipate. Wondering if they would ever dissipate. But Faramir’s words awoke a faint stirring of hope in him for better times, for a future not as bleak as had seemed earlier.

“Someday we will,” he promised him firmly, “We will meet again.”

“And continue where we left off,” the young man muttered, lifting his head up, and lightly brushing Haldir’s lips with is own.

They left for the stables together, Faramir insisting on coming along.

Boromir joined them on the way to the stables, and glared at his brother, “I went to get you, thinking you could make it out with my help. And find you have already left, and that on your own, when you are ailing!”

“I am well, Boromir, quite well,” his brother replied. He was literally being held up by Haldir’s strong arm wrapped around his shoulders helping him walk slowly down.

They bid sedate farewells to Haldir and his friend and exchanged brief hugs. But even the brief hug held a depth of meaning when it was exchanged between Faramir and Haldir. They were composed and calm now, even smiling gently to allay each other, a façade for the sake of onlookers, and for their own sake.

Later, Faramir would cry in the privacy of his chamber at night, cry more than he ever had, cry more than he had even through the worst moments of his terrible ordeal, and Boromir would sit by and offer him silent solace. He would cry each night for many nights in memory of a lost love, in his chambers, and in Ithilien under the stars, clinging desperately to the hope of another meeting for many years as bad times turned worse, and hope seemed nothing but a long forgotten memory.

And Haldir would ride home in silence and gloom, shedding his tears when alone, and return to patrolling the borders of Lothlórien, grimmer and quieter than before. And his companions would note the change and wonder about it for a short while but then find other more pressing matters to occupy their attention. And he too would search for a glimmer of hope over the horizon, and seemingly find none.

But for now, they smiled as they bid farewell to each other, so as to not part in sorrow. Smiles that fooled not the other. And when the elven party had left, Faramir slowly returned to the higher levels of the city, with Boromir’s help, restraining his feelings, and finally stood on one of the tall ramparts leaning against his brother for he was exhausted from his exertions, and watched the horses speed away across the Pelennor and beyond until they were mere specks to his eyes, and stayed until he could see them no longer.

Then he returned inside.

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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6 Comment(s)

Wow! This was great! I really enjoy your work and am eagerly working my through all the stories here. Please keep the excellent stories coming!

Ria    Wednesday 5 March 2008, 3:34    #

Thanks Ria! I’m delighted you liked this and the other fics:)

minx    Sunday 9 March 2008, 10:21    #

—taking a bit of a head start on the celebrations—

Have I ever told you how much I love this story? Faramir had always been my favourite character from the books, but when the first of the movies – and the resulting fan fiction – came out, Boromir (and perhaps Haldir as well) was awfully attractive too… It’s this story that started my obsession with Faramir fan fiction.
It’s all your fault! It’s all thanks to you!

Thank you, darling!

iris    Friday 27 February 2009, 10:43    #

Thank you!:) I’m very glad this started your obssession:) I can’t think you enough for the constant encouragment and for coming up with this archive!

— Minx    Sunday 1 March 2009, 17:39    #

Loved the story, thank your very much for writing it. Hope you write more Haldir-Faramir .

— blondie    Saturday 14 December 2013, 19:34    #

@blondie: Thank you so much :)

Minx    Wednesday 1 January 2014, 14:43    #

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