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The Ritual (NC-17) Print

Written by Valkyrie

22 April 2004 | 36281 words

[ all pages ]

Title: Straightening Things (Part 2/9)
Series: THE RITUAL
Author: Valkyrie (email)
Pairings: Aragorn/Faramir, Aragorn/Arwen (implied)
Rating: NC17
Archive: yes, but let know where
Warnings: m/m relationship
Summary: Aragorn realises his error and talks with Faramir, who will receive the first orders from his King.
Authors’ note: this is AU. Some things are loyal to Tolkien’s story; I have changed some events and invented all the rest. If you like to read things canon, this is not a story for you.
Feedback: kind words will be welcome and constructive criticism as well.
Disclaimer: The characters are property of J.R.R. Tolkien. I have not and will not receive any money for this story. It is free for all to read.

Beta Reader original version: Minx
Beta Reader revised version: Chris
What would I have done without you guys? All remaining mistakes are mine.


PART TWO – Straightening Things

“ARAGORN!”

The King was sitting at Galen’s desk, reading from a leather bound book.

“What have you done? Elbereth! Did you revoke the Ritual?” Arwen reached the desk and grabbed the book out of Aragorn’s hands.

Aragorn was too stunned to answer. He had never seen Arwen in such a state. She was now turning the pages as if looking for something.

“What is this? Is it not the revoking of the Ritual?” she asked lifting her gaze from the book and looking at Aragorn with eyes full of concern.

“No, these are notes about Council meetings,” said Aragorn rising from the chair. “What happened Arwen? You are scaring me.”

“Oh Elbereth,” she sighed and went to the room’s window; the air in the room seemed, suddenly, not enough; the awful fright she had just suffered left her somewhat breathless.

Aragorn approached her very carefully and laid a hand on her shoulder. “What is it? Arwen? I have never seen you like this.”

Arwen turned around and embraced Aragorn, burying her face in his chest. “Oh my love, you almost made a huge mistake. You were going to revoke the Ritual and—”

“Arwen, I will revoke the Ritual,” said Aragorn interrupting her. He was getting annoyed. He thought Arwen was on his side in this. “I made my decision and…”

“NO!” she said, taking a step away from Aragorn’s embrace. “You would be condemning Faramir to a certain death. If you do not fulfil the Ritual Faramir will die, for it will be as if you would have refused him. Do you understand what I am saying?” Arwen looked her beloved in the eye, willing Aragorn to see the implications of his decision.

“That is not true, Arwen. I talked with Faramir and he explained to me that the King has the power to revoke the Ritual when he deems it necessary.”

“Yes, he might have told you that but he omitted to tell you that if you do not fulfil the Ritual before revoking it, it would be as if you had refused him. Aragorn, he will be declared unfit and die for it. You have no choice in this matter. In order for you to revoke it without doing him harm, you must complete it. I do not know why he did not tell you that but I just saw him and he was in a high state of distress; understandable if you consider he had just been condemned to death.”

Aragorn listened to Arwen, all the while thinking this could not be possible. Aragorn sat back on the chair at Galen’s desk, he was not sure his legs would support him well. There had to be a misunderstanding somewhere because surely Faramir would have said something when he told him about his decision, would he not?

He tried to remember what Faramir had said. Faramir had explained some facts but he never expressed anything about not wanting to do this duty. Now, that he came to think about it, he told Faramir he was going to revoke the Ritual when the young man said to him he had the power to do so. He had not bothered to ask Faramir what he thought about this decision and it was clear now that he should have. Faramir had doubts about his worth; he had witnessed that insecurity himself. No doubt, the young man thought his King considered him unworthy to go through with this Ritual but… he remembered having assured the young man about his value. Why then had not Faramir told him? Or maybe, Faramir assumed he knew about this and thought his King did not care if he died. Another fact that came to his mind was of Galen not telling him either. He would have a long talk with Galen about this matter.

“Aragorn?” Arwen had approached Aragorn, who stared vacantly at the desk, a troubled expression on his face.

“What?” Aragorn lifted his gaze to look at his wife.

“What are you going to do?” she asked him quietly.

“I will see Faramir. I will reassure him and then I will learn everything there is to know about this damned Ritual. It seems we will have to go through with it after all.” Aragorn reached out, took Arwen’s hands between his, and placed a light kiss on them before rising up from his chair and heading for the door.

It was that moment Galen entered the office, a large book in his hands. The King just walked past him giving him a furious glare. “I will talk to you later.” Then he disappeared into the hall leaving a startled and worried advisor behind.

“You better sit, Galen, I will explain all to you.”

Arwen proceeded to tell the advisor everything that had passed and Galen was relieved that his King was not a heartless man after all. All had been a misunderstanding. But… that did not explain the furious glare the King just gave him. Did it?


Aragorn arrived at the houses of healing and went directly toward Faramir’s room, encountering the Warden Healer on his way. “Varan, how is Faramir?”

“I have given him something to sleep. He was unresponsive… as though in shock. I do not understand what could possibly have happened for him to be like that. He is… well, he was very well, he was going to his rooms today as I told you before,” finished the healer, a pensive expression on his face.

“Do not worry, Varan. He is well; his distress comes from a different source than a physical one. I will take him to his rooms right away; awakening in a familiar place will do him good. I will take care of him from now on. Do not worry.” Aragorn left a startled healer in the middle of the hallway. He entered Faramir’s room taking in the curled up form of his Steward. Faramir lay facing away from the door. Aragorn walked to the bed and wrapped Faramir into the sheets; he then took the young man in his arms and walked out of the houses of healing with his precious burden.

He soon arrived at Faramir’s quarters and signalled one of the guards always posted in the halls to open the door for him. He walked in and headed for Faramir’s bed, gently placing the young man on the soft mattress, making him as comfortable as possible. “That will be all, thank you,” he said to the guard who left the room closing the door behind him. Aragorn took a chair and placed it close to the bed; he would guard the young man’s sleep.

Faramir looked very fragile, so different from how he had been in the morning. He had to admit the young man had very low self-esteem but he had seemed to be coping well. Now, Faramir looked pale and troubled, even in his sleep, and he hated the fact that he was responsible for the state of the young man. He hoped that he would be able to straighten things out for Faramir.

The hours passed and outside the window, the sun said goodbye with red and orange hues to let the stars show their brilliance. Arwen came by to see how Faramir was doing and tried to convince Aragorn to have some dinner but Aragorn told her he could not eat anything right now; besides, he did not want Faramir to wake up alone.

Finally, Faramir stirred in his sleep and opened his eyes. He saw Aragorn sitting in a chair beside the bed, a concerned look on his face. Faramir’s gaze went beyond Aragorn, noticing that the night had set in. How much time had passed? His thoughts had no order and they seemed to jump this way and that by their own will. Faramir suddenly realized he was in his rooms but could not remember having got here at all. He closed his eyes briefly to open them again, this time looking at the King. Faramir wondered why was the King here? He must have revoked the Ritual tradition by now and… Why was it that he was not in any pain? The magic worked at once or so he had thought.

Aragorn was getting more concerned by the minute. “Faramir?” Aragorn tried not to startle him, and the soft-spoken voice seemed to have an effect because Faramir’s gaze shifted and focused, his eyes so sad that the sight almost broke Aragorn’s heart.

“Sire?” Faramir’s voice was rough, as though the young man had been crying.

“Why did not you tell me, Faramir? You should have told me when I said I was going to end it,” Aragorn said soothingly. He looked at the young man and could see Faramir was trying hard to rein in his emotions. “You can talk to me, Faramir. Don’t you trust me?”

“With my life, my King,” answered the young man at last, his voice almost inaudible.

“Then why did you almost make me take that life away from you, Faramir? Do you have any idea what that would have done to me?” Aragorn waited for a reaction.

Faramir’s eyes were downcast, unable to look at the King anymore. After what seemed like a long time, he finally explained. “It was not my intention, Sire,” said Faramir facing Aragorn at last. “First… I thought you knew that you could not revoke the Ritual without condemning me to death. In one… mad moment I thought you… preferred to do it that way, that you didn’t want to go through the Ritual because of me and …That this was an opportunity to get rid of a weak Steward.” Faramir made a pause seeing how the face of the King was looking increasingly sad and distressed, and betrayed.

Aragorn could not believe Faramir thought that of him.

“But then… I realized you would be incapable of doing such a thing, I thought that maybe you didn’t know and I… made the decision to not tell you about it and spare you of a Steward…” Faramir did not finish the sentence; he just closed his eyes and waited for the King to pass his judgement for he could see Aragorn was not pleased with his answer.

Aragorn did not know what to say. He had assured Faramir of his worth and for some reason unknown to him the young man did not believe his words. It seemed to him now that Boromir was right to worry. Denethor did a lot of damage, implanting scorn and self-doubt; it was clear he vented all his frustration on Faramir. Aragorn felt a sudden rage toward Denethor and his madness; he got up from his chair and gathered Faramir in his arms, knowing nothing he could say would comfort this man.

For a second, the young Steward did not know what to do, the King’s embrace and the kindness he showed so unexpected to him that he tried to reject the offered comfort, but then the King tightened his hold and soothingly caressed his back. Without words his King comforted him in a way only this man with the power to heal could do, he felt saved and cherished. No words were spoken and nonetheless so much was said. Only Boromir had been able to lift his mood this way, only the unconditional love of his brother; his only friend, the only person he had confided in. Now, his King offered solace in this embrace that said so much. He felt like a fool for what he had almost done, for what he had almost made his King do.

“I’m sorry, my King, I…” Faramir did not realize a silent tear was running down his cheek.

Aragorn let go of Faramir for a moment to look into the young man’s face and was not surprised by Faramir’s reaction. He embraced Faramir once more.

Faramir clung unexpectedly tight to the King’s embrace and started to sob in earnest against Aragorn’s chest, “I am so sorry, Sire. Forgive me, please, forgive me for being such a fool.”

“Don’t ever do such a thing again, Faramir,” said Aragorn, loosening his hold to take the young man by the shoulders, looking into Faramir’s eyes to make his point. “I do not know what Denethor said to you, I do not know how he treated you; I only tell you that whatever he said that was demeaning, it is not true. You are a valuable warrior, you are someone who fought evil and survived, who looked evil in the face and kept going,” Aragorn took Faramir’s face between his hands and tenderly wiped away the tears falling down the young man’s face.

Faramir looked at his King with veneration and taking his hands from where they rested on his face, looked at them and reverently lowered his head to kiss them, then without relinquishing his hold he laid them on his face again, the feeling so warm and comforting.

“That day I was sure I was going to die, I was sure I would die fighting by the River,” Faramir started with a very quiet but unusually steady voice, considering the dire tale he was telling. “I went to fight without hope of survival, without reasons to live for.” The young man let go of Aragorn’s hands and glanced up to read his King’s face, seeing only kindness and compassion.

“I had just returned to the city, chased on my way back by Wraiths,” said Faramir, lowering his gaze once more. “My father learned about my decision to let the Halflings go and he hated me even more for it. He said …he made it clear to me that he would have preferred I had died instead of Boromir. The next day he ordered me to go to back, knowing the situation was lost there and that I might never return. He knew and nevertheless he ordered me, he preferred to sacrifice a useless son rather than see him live to remind him everyday of the other son he had lost, the one dearest to his heart.

“I was wounded and brought to the city, I don’t remember any of this though. The next thing I do remember is the fire,” continued the young man, his voice breaking a little. “I tried to call my father, I saw him lighting the pyre and I tried to call him but the smoke did not let me… I saw the flames closing in on me and… and the last thing I thought was… that I must be indeed worthless if my own father would set me afire,” finished Faramir, covering his face with his hands to hide his shamed tears from his King.

Aragorn stayed quiet during the awful tale. Denethor’s only excuse was his madness. He wanted to believe this for he could not imagine a father could be so cruel to his own son. He had listened without saying anything, allowing Faramir to let go of all the bitterness; but now that the young man had reached the end of the rope, he could not stay aside anymore. He gathered the hands of his Steward and laid them on his own chest, placing them over his heart.

“The first thing I did when I entered the White City was to visit the houses of healing and look for you,” started Aragorn. “I commanded you to return to the light and you obeyed me without question and even managed to know who I was.” The young man who kept his eyes shut, tears still running down his face. “Now, as your King I will ask some things of you and I expect my orders to be followed to the letter.”

Faramir opened his eyes and facing the King said, “My King, I will do anything you ask of me, my life is yours.”

“First and most important of all, I never, never, want to hear you saying anything akin to the words ‘worthless’ or ‘useless’ when you refer to yourself. I want to make it clear that you are a most valued warrior, you are important to the ones who care about you, including me, and your life is not mine, your life is yours. Do you understand what I am asking of you and what this implies?” Aragorn squeezed the hands placed on his chest to attract the other man’s attention.

“Yes, Sire,” answered Faramir quietly.

“Well, then tell me what you understand from this command,” said Aragorn. “Translate it in your own words,” he added right away. When Faramir hesitated to answer he continued, “I am waiting Faramir,” with an undertone of jest.

“You…” Faramir frowned. “I… I am important to you?” Finished the young man, trying to recover his hands but Aragorn had a good grip on them.

Aragorn noticed Faramir’s choice of words, important; this was indeed the key here. Denethor had demeaned him so much, Faramir had been incapable of seeing his own worth anymore. He only saw what Denethor told him, a distorted version of reality. Denethor’s reality. And it was so sad for it seemed to have been happening since Faramir’s childhood from all the things Boromir had told him, the few times they had talked about Faramir. Important was how Faramir wanted to feel, he had wanted to be important for his father but nothing he did was enough to please Denethor. He wanted to have the importance of someone who is loved.

Aragorn smiled at the expectant face of Faramir and let go of one of the young man’s hands to place his own over Faramir’s heart, amused by the man’s wide-eyed reaction. “You are ‘very’ important to me Faramir. I knew of you from your brother, he had only praises for you. He said you were kind and compassionate and a fine warrior, ‘my kind warrior’ he called you and I must agree with him. Listen to me, Faramir, I am your King but above all, I am your friend.

“Which leads me to my second request. As a friend of mine and for the sake of the ones who love you, you have the duty to take care of yourself. You will not put yourself in unnecessary danger by any means. If you are troubled you will not keep it all inside, you can come to me for friends do that, they take comfort from one another in troubled times. If you need help you go to your friends, if you feel happiness, you share it with your friends, that is the way it is done. Do you understand this as well, Faramir?” Aragorn asked; making it clear he was waiting for Faramir to translate in his own words again.

“Yes, Sire,” said the young man meekly. “We are friends.”

“Good,” said Aragorn, letting go of Faramir’s hands who quickly put them into his lap. “Very good. My third request is that you call me Aragorn, not Sire, not my Liege nor my King. From now on, I am only Aragorn for you; you will call me by my royal title only in official affairs, but in occasions such as those, even Arwen will call me King. Do you understand this as well?” Aragorn asked a wicked smile on his face. He knew this last one would be difficult for Faramir.

“Yes, Si… Aragorn,” answered the young man with a smile of his own. Aragorn was delighted for this was the first genuine smile he had seen on Faramir’s face.

“Very well, Faramir, I see you learn fast,” said Aragorn in a teasing tone. “And last but not least, I want you to give me your word of honour that you will fulfil to the letter all that I have requested of you.” Aragorn waited for Faramir’s answer.

“I give you my word of honour… Aragorn.”

“Very well, I guess that would be all for now. I want you to rest, we will talk more tomorrow. I will learn all there is to know about the Ritual and we will go through this together. Your life here will not be as the one you had; no one will ever say you are worthless and you will not let anyone tell you something like this either,” said Aragorn walking to the door.

Faramir followed him with his gaze and his eyes were troubled no more, he felt like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He felt as light as a feather. “Thank you, Aragorn… for all you have done.”

“That is what friends are for. I will see that someone brings you something to eat, I am sure you have not had anything all day long,” said Aragorn disappearing through the door.

Faramir looked to the window; clouds of rain had moved in making the night dark. However, Faramir did not care, for light was in his heart.

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7 Comment(s)

I have really enjoyed this story – di you evwer write the sequel mentioned? If so I should truly enjoy reading it.

— Mauz    Thursday 8 June 2006, 9:21    #

a sequel, please!

[This comment was originally entered in the 'Thank the Author' box and moved here by the administrators. Elena, please contact us if you have trouble with commenting.]

— elena    Saturday 20 October 2007, 17:10    #

Sequel is coming in about 2 days. Thanks for you comment!

— Valkyrie    Saturday 20 October 2007, 19:48    #

I can’t wait for the sequel! I read this story some time ago and always felt the ending was incomplete—too many questions still left unanswered. I like this story because the plot was original enough and seemed plausible. Also, any novel length Faramir/Aragorn fic with any kind of character development is a pure joy to read.

— Chantal    Tuesday 23 October 2007, 6:39    #

I read your story yesterday and I want to thank you. I enjoyed it very much and I’m looking forward to the sequel. Actually I hate to read tbc’s because I’m so impatient, but too late now!
I just wanted to say some more things:
1. I loved the way you described Arwen and her reaction towards Faramir when she heard about his death sentence. It’s so Faramir that he doesn’t say anything. And I like how she racted when Aragorn told her about his love for Faramir. It’s a pretty thought that elves admit all kinds of love, no matter if they’re involved or not.
2. I don’t want to be mean but Faramir was a little too whiny for me. I know that he’s in fandom either the stereotype of a wuss or a warrior and you managed quite well to show both sides of his character but for my taste he had too many emotional breakdowns, although it’s understandable because of his inner turmoil. I don’t know. I like him a little bit more manly but still with a soft core.
3. Because of that I loved the whole part where he got angry. Faramir, standing angry in front of Aragorn, dripping of Orc blood is a powerful picture!
4. I already said that I like that you try to don’t stereotype the protagonists (too much). Because of that it was a good decision to show Aragorns thoughts, that he hate to violate Faramir but that still the picture of this young, naked man, bound to a stone or dripping of Orc blood, arouses him. It’s a totally human reaction and makes Aragorn sympathetic.
I’m sure I forgot to mention some more of my thoughts but this comment is already too long. Sorry for that but I had to comment on 9 parts, so… now I’m going to read the sequel and hope that the next parts will come soon. Damn, I hate reading tbc’s!:)

dunderklumpen    Tuesday 23 October 2007, 23:42    #

Absolutely amazing story! So amazing as is its sequel “The Road Ahead”. Very interesting idea and wonderful writing! Thank you very much, Valkyrie, and write more!

— Anastasiya    Wednesday 17 March 2010, 12:02    #

I just read this story and I wish I had come in time to support it so it would get bumped. Very interesting idea of how to have the Steward’s loyalty tested, a wonderful Arwen, a great angry Faramir, and the way the story is told is quite efficient. Thanks!

— Nerey Camille    Saturday 7 April 2012, 14:56    #

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