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This story is rated «NC-17», and carries the warnings «Some chapters contain graphic sexuality in the context of loving relationships (Faramir/Aragorn and/or Eowyn) and the overall ethos is polyamorous (there's enough love to go around).».
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The Song of the Steward and the King (NC-17) Print

Written by Raihon

19 March 2006 | 32932 words

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Epilogue

Arwen and Éowyn were practicing archery with the 11-year-olds, Elboron and Eldarion, on the back lawn. Little Theodwyn was on the veranda playing solicitously with her baby sister and a quite new member of the House of Telcontar. Maida, now a full grown woman about to wed an Ithilien boy, hovered in the background, ready to step in if the babies fussed. Faramir sat on the side of the veranda, a book lying open in his lap, unread for some while as he had watched his family enjoy the fine fall day.

He felt a hand on his and Aragorn said, “come walk with me in the orchard.”

With a nod and a wave from Maida, Faramir followed Aragorn down the steps and across the lawn to the orchard path. They walked in silence, a warm breeze ruffling their hair. A short way into the orchard, Aragorn plucked an apple, dusted it off on his shirt, took a bite, and handed it to Faramir, who also took a bite. When Faramir handed the apple back to Aragorn, he saw the light of joy dancing in his friend’s eyes and his own heart swelled.

As they walked through the dappled light filtered by the yellowing leaves of the trees, Faramir felt nostalgia creep up on him. Peace had come at last to Gondor and she was beginning to flourish. Aragorn’s capacity to love and be loved had brought together the will of Men, Dwarves and Elves to rebuild Gondor’s cities and gardens, had reclaimed Minas Morgul from the shadows and secured Gondor’s friendship with her neighbors (for the most part, at least). And yet, Faramir thought, and yet those were interesting days, after the war. The bad was mostly behind us and the good was all ahead of us then, and I have never felt so alive as I did when love waxed new in my life.

Aragorn had fallen slightly behind him, and touched Faramir on the shoulder. Faramir stopped and turned around to face Aragorn, wondering if he had read his thoughts again. They had ever been alike, but these days there was almost nothing the one did not immediately apprehend in the other. Aragorn’s face wore a crooked smile, and his eyes told Faramir a story of admiration and gratitude which Faramir was now able to acknowledge and accept without doubt.

Aragorn’s hand touched Faramir’s head. “The setting sun glints golden in your hair,” he said, and Faramir saw an old but not forgotten look in his eye. “My love,” Aragorn said with emotion, “the sight of you still quickens my heart.”

And they came together in an embrace, and kissed each other as they had not kissed in quite some time, their mouths immediately recalling how to meet and join and part. Gently Faramir pushed Aragorn against a tree and pressed into him, feeling a wave of longing approach like an old friend. The feel of Aragorn’s firm body and rough hands against his skin was welcome and as always, Aragorn’s kisses had an Elvish art to them. But the years had cooled their passion first to embers then ash, and this part of their love now resembled more a gentle tide than the crashing surf it had once been. Gradually, their kisses quieted and they clung to each other in silence for a few minutes more before resuming their walk.

At the western edge of the orchard, Aragorn sat down beneath a tree and beckoned Faramir to join him. “Come,” Aragorn said, “lean into me. I want to feel your weight against me.”

Faramir sat between Aragorn’s legs and leaned back into the warmth of the one closest to him in all Arda. Aragorn wrapped his arms around Faramir and set his chin down on his shoulder, pressing their cheeks together. They watched as the setting sun lit up the peaks of the mountains in the distance.

“We should go back,” Aragorn suggested.

Faramir placed his hands on Aragorn’s and said, “Nay, love, let us stay here while there is still light. We deserve this moment for ourselves.”

Aragorn sighed and kissed him softly on the cheek, and in a silence that was full of meanings that they alone knew, they watched the light on the mountains fade from violet to blue.

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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3 Comment(s)

lovely!! Great Fic!!

— rina    Friday 7 April 2006, 12:26    #

Absolutly wonderful. Thank you, I will look for your other stories.

— EJ    Monday 9 April 2007, 5:50    #

you write so beautiful!! I absolutely love this story!!! i really feel for them!!!

— daze    Wednesday 20 June 2007, 7:00    #

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