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Third Times the Charm (NC-17) Print

Written by El

29 December 2007 | 4445 words

Title: Third Times the Charm – A Secret Santa Fic
Author: EL
Beta: Tena D
Email: duathunsidhe@yahoo.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Elrond/Faramir
Warnings: Graphic depictions of homoerotic elves between two consenting males; be they men or elves… or half-elves.
Request: Pairing: I would like a story with Elrond/Faramir with a happy ending (bonding?) Maybe Faramir could be like gandalf or maybe half-elven.
Rating: R to NC17
Request/plot : I really do not care
Do not include: No rape, blood, or incest on Faramir’s side.
Summary: Elrond finds love when a desperate call from his foster son leads him to the White City.

Third Times the Charm

Lord Elrond Eárendilion didn’t know what to expect when he arrived in Minas Tirith. Given that the War of the Ring was over and the Fellowship had survived the loss of Boromir and, temporarily, Gandalf, to complete their quest. He had assumed the mood would be one of joy and victory.

Apparently he’d been wrong. An air of sad resignation hung over the White City, as if her people were waiting for a final blow. With a gentle smile, he stopped one of the myriad servants bustling about.

“How may I serve milord?” the young man questioned with a polite bow.

“I sense an air of melancholy among the people,” Elrond said. “It is as if they are anticipating a sad event. Tell me, please, what has transpired?”

“Ah,” the servant nodded. “The people await the end of the line of the Stewards. Our dear Faramir lies ill in the house of healing. He has been there since before the battle at the Pelennor fields, brought down by foul words and orc points as he fought to reclaim Osgiliath.”

“Is he not in the care of competent healers?” Elrond asked.

“Aye, milord. The king himself cares for him but… I fear the harsh words of Lord Denethor brought the final blow to Faramir’s spirit. He is all alone now,” the man sighed sadly. “If only his father could have seen the beauty in his youngest as clearly as he saw the strength and courage in his eldest. Now, it is too late and we will lose a jewel in the heart of the White City.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Elrond said firmly. “Pray, how do I get to the house of healing?”

“I will show you the way, Lord Elrond,” came Legolas’ melodious voice from behind him. “it gladdens my heart to see you, Hiren.”

“Estel has been pushing himself again?” the lord questioned.

“Certainly,” Legolas answered. “To the point of exhaustion. It is only with persistence that I am able to convince him to leave the halls for much needed rest.”

“You and Arwen have come to an understanding then?” Elrond asked.

“Not so much she and I as I and Aragorn,” the prince blushed.

“Indeed?” the dark eyebrow rose in question.

“Yes,” Legolas said, still blushing furiously. “I am afraid my heart was not as steadfast as your daughter’s. It flew to another on flying hooves and I have yet to retrieve or join it. As Aragorn said, it took only one kiss to show the truth of it.”

Suddenly the prince looked very sad and Elrond couldn’t help but wonder why.

“What is it, Legolas?” he said as they continued to walk. “Does this person know of your feelings?”

“It would make no difference if he did,” Legolas sighed. “He shoved me away after that kiss, a look of revulsion on his face. We are here, Híren. Faramir is in the semi private area in the back. Aragorn is with him.”

“Tell me Legolas. Do you hear the gulls?”

“Almost as loudly as I hear the call of my heart to one who will not answer.” The young ellon answered before he turned regally and left.

“Men have such foolish notions on love,” Elrond uttered as he entered the healing rooms.

The lord strode through the halls, his healing senses scanning all around him. A large majority of them would survive thanks to their king. Elrond could sense Aragorn’s touch upon them. Even now his foster son struggled to save another.

When the ellon stepped through the curtain, Aragorn was just placing the cloth back in the basin resting on the bedside table.

“It seems I have arrived just in time. Otherwise I would have two patients instead of one.” Elrond said with a smile.

“Adar,” Aragorn sighed with relief.

“It has been many years since you have called me that. It is music to my ears, ion,” Elrond said as he hugged the king.

“I have done everything I can think of but none of it seems to work.” Aragorn said as he gave a sheepish smile.

“Now we will try everything I know,” Elrond said firmly. “And if that does not work, we will summon Erestor to lecture him on the perils of death.”

“Saes no,” the king laughed. “A lecture by Erestor is enough to frighten Sauron himself were he still here to hear it.”

“I want you to go get something to eat and then find a quiet place to sit and rest. If you can get Legolas to join you all the better.”

“You have seen it too?” Aragorn sighed. “I almost wish I hadn’t encouraged him. But his feelings were clear in his eyes whenever he looked at Éomer. Even Gimli noticed. Now he has that regal mask he wore when we first met.”

“Éomer is it? Legolas ever knew beauty and strength of spirit when he saw it. That mask is his way of protecting himself. We will help him if we can,” Elrond sighed.

“I have not had the heart to tell him. King Éomer is on his way here to collect his sister.”

“When?” Elrond asked, his mind whirring.

“Five days time,” Aragorn answered. “I received his messenger this morning.”

“Then there is time. Now you. Out.”

“Yes, Adar,” the king laughed as he turned and left. One did not argue with the Lord of Imladris… unless there was a nearby escape route.

Elrond turned to his patient and caught his breath. Even unconscious this young man was breathtaking. Auburn curls, damp with sweat, clung to his face and neck. Full lips, parted slightly, begged to be kissed and the Elven lord swallowed hard. His reaction was most unexpected and distinctly inappropriate under the present circumstances.

Shaking his head, Elrond brought his focus back to the task at hand. Gently he placed one hand on Faramir’s forehead. Closing storm grey eyes, he sent his fea forth to seek out the lingering causes of this illness.

Faramir sat, staring at the large gate before him. Ornate carving decorated the edges while some form of writing swirled over the surface. All around him was blackness. Everywhere except in front of these doors.

“I wonder what the words say?” he said out loud.

“Rest and Be at Peace,”

Faramir turned towards the voice. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at the regal being. Broad of shoulder yet still incredibly graceful, the male had long dark brown hair flowing around his torso. An itching sensation began in the man’s fingers.

“Who are you?” Faramir whispered. “Where am I?”

“My name is Elrond and you sit before the gates to the Halls of Waiting.” The lord answered.

“You’re an elf,” the young man said.

“Technically no. I am often called Elrond Peredhel or Elrond Half-Elven and it seems you are as well, Faramir of Gondor, or you would not have found your way here.”

“I’ve been wandering for… a long time,” Faramir answered.

“I am here to take you home,” Elrond said as he offered his hand.

“I have no home,” came the solemn answer.

“Home is where people care for you,” the lord said moving closer. “There is an entire city that cares for you. They fear you will not return to them and they are sad. Your king has been pushing himself hard to bring you back to them.”

“The king has returned?” Faramir asked in surprise. “My father… “

“Is dead. He flung himself from the courtyard of the White Tree during the battle. It is all over Faramir. Sauron is no more and his minions scattered, leaderless.”

“I thought it a fevered dream.” The Gondorian whispered.

“Come Faramir. It is not time for you to leave this world.” Elrond said.

Hesitantly, the young man took the Elven lord’s hand. Easily he was drawn to his feet. When Elrond smiled at him, he felt heat burst low in his belly then spread throughout his entire being. Yes, he definitely wanted to learn more about this elf.

Slowly Elrond returned to himself. Opening his eyes, he waited for Faramir to do the same. His patience was rewarded by the fluttering of auburn lashes that soon lifted to reveal beautiful blue eyes. Again he felt his breath catch.

“Greetings, Faramir,” he smiled, regaining his composure.

“And to you, Lord Elrond,” the young man said after two attempts.

“It is good to count you among the living. The entire city has been worried about you,” Elrond said.

“I did not think anyone would notice,” Faramir said softly.

Just then a rumble sounded from the region of his belly. Immediately Faramir blushed as Elrond chuckled.

“I take it you are hungry? I do not blame you. It has been many days since you have had more than broth.” The elf smiled again doing not unpleasant things to Faramir’s insides. “However, the fare will still need to be light until you regain your strength.”

“Do you plan on overseeing my care?” the Gondorian asked hesitantly.

“Oh indeed, Faramir,” Elrond said. “You have aroused my… curiosity. We will be seeing a great deal of each other in the days to come.”

True to his word, Elrond oversaw the young half-elf’s recovery. In their daily conversations, he discovered Faramir to be intelligent and insightful, qualities he admired. He spent the majority of his time with the young man and found he quite enjoyed it.

In the evening, Elrond would bid his engaging companion a fond good night and then join Aragorn and Legolas for a late night aperitif. Occasionally, Arwen would join them and he would spend much time with his daughter.

Since his arrival, King Éomer had attended these informal gatherings. Though his presence was welcome, the news caused the prince of Mirkwood make his own attendance sporadic. Elrond could see the light dimming in Legolas’ eyes as the archer tried to spare the Horse lord his very existence.

“How does Faramir fair, Ada?” Arwen asked as she carefully sipped her wine.

“He is doing much better. His strength is returning swiftly,” Elrond answered. “Once his heritage was discovered, it made drawing him back easier.”

“Half Elven. That makes sense. The way I proceeded would not have worked if his fea was damaged.” Aragorn murmured.

“Speaking of which,” Arwen began firmly. “We must do something about Legolas or he will be lost.”

“It is indeed a complicated situation.” Elrond nodded.

“I should never have encouraged him.” The Gondorian king sighed. “But the love he feels for Éomer shined so brightly within him. I wanted him to be happy.”

“Our ways are not the ways of men,” the Elven lord explained. “Such feelings for one for one of the same gender are not common among the people of Rohan. On the battlefield or patrol is one thing but in day to day life, it is quite another.”

“Éomer knows nothing of Legolas’ feelings,” Arwen sighed. “I almost wish the prince was still in love with Estel. Then Éomer would not be killing him without even realizing it.”

The three listened to the strong stride moving away down the hall.

“You are your mother’s child,” Elrond said with a smile. “She was a persistent matchmaker as well.”

“It is in Éomer’s hands now,” Arwen nodded. “And he had better realize what a gift he has in Legolas’ heart.”

Faramir waited anxiously for the Elven lord to arrive. He enjoyed their discussions very much. Well, almost as much as he enjoyed the tingles of pleasure Elrond’s mere presence sent radiating through his body. He blushed as he felt the stirrings of his loins.

It was not as if he was a virgin. On his majority, Boromir had taken him to the finest brothel in all of Minas Tirith. He had been introduced to the pleasures of both male and female lovers. It had been quite an eye-opening experience.
Yet, what he had felt that night didn’t even compare to what he felt when he was with Elrond. He was hesitant to apply Boro’s term for such intensity. He was not ready to say the word ‘love’ in connection with the Elven lord.

“My you are bright eyed this morning.” Elrond teased as he closed the door to Faramir’s rooms behind him. “What has you all aquiver?”

The furious blush that stained the young man’s cheeks made his curiosity sit up with perked ears.

“My,” Elrond practically purred as he let his fingers caress the stubbled flesh. “Those must be some interesting thoughts indeed.”

“They do occupy my time when I am alone,” Faramir admitted quietly, surprised he was actually flirting with his healer.

“Perhaps you will share them with me,” Elrond said as he went through his daily examination.

“Perhaps when I am… stronger.” The young man promised.

“You are doing better each day,” Elrond smiled. “Now, what questions do you have for me today o’ curious one?”

The next several hours were spent in the discussion of elves in general and half-elves in particular. Many things about himself and his childhood began to make sense to Faramir. He thanked whatever powers that be for Elrond’s appearance in his life. The more he talked to the lord, the more he dreaded their inevitable partings. While his dreams were quite lovely, they were not nearly as satisfying as he was sure the reality would be. Faramir wanted them to become reality, almost desperately.

Elrond could not say specifically when it happened, but he bean to feel the stirrings of deep desire and longing. He had no doubt as to their target for his dreams had never been vague or foggy. Neither did he mistake them for something more than they were. He had only experienced such sensations twice in his lifetime. Each had been beautiful and bittersweet, ending in tragedy. However, perhaps the third time would be the charm for it seemed the Valar had offered him another chance at love, this time without the shadows and darkness looming in the background. He would have been a fool if he let this opportunity pass him by. Lord Elrond Eárendilion was anything but a fool.

The time came when Faramir no longer needed a healer. The newly discovered half elf was hale and sound. The people of Minas Tirith rejoiced and the King threw a celebration in his honor as thanks for all Faramir had done to protect their people.
Wine flowed freely and joy abounded. It was a perfect time to express the desires of one’s heart. Late into the night, there was a knock upon Elrond’s door. Clad only in a night robe, the elf answered it to find a still fully dressed Faramir standing nervously in the hall.

Silently the lord stepped aside and allowed the young man entry to his chambers. Silence reined for a few moments as Faramir fidgeted and Elrond waited patiently, a practice honed not only on his mischievous sons but his dearest friends and advisors as well.

Finally he watched Faramir take a deep breath. Before the Gondorian could say a single word, Elrond stood before him and placed one long slender finger upon his tempting lips.

“Tonight is not a night for words,” the lord whispered as he caressed those lips. “This night is for celebrating life and love. Let decisions making and choices be left for morning’s light and the dawning of a new day, perhaps even a new beginning.”

Whatever Faramir was about to say vanished from his mind. Elrond’s words gave his heart hope for a future, for more than just one night.

Functioning on pure impulse, the young man captured Elrond’s finger between his lips. Slowly he swirled his tongue around the slender digit, delighting in the soft moan it drew from his lover’s throat.

“You were too many clothes,” Elrond purred as he stepped in close. “And I wish our first time to be as comfortable as possible Follow me when you have removed everything, melethen.”

Slipping away, Elrond walked towards his bedroom doors. As he passed through a patch of moonlight, he let his robe slide from his body. Gilded in silver light, he paused to look over his shoulder, giving Faramir a perfectly wicked smile. Then he continued through the door, disappearing from sight.

The young man groaned as his gut clenched. Quickly he stripped off his clothes, heedless of snapping threads and tearing fabric. He had never felt this aroused in his entire life. All he could think about was getting to Elrond and feeling all that smooth skin pressed against him.

When he arrived in the bedroom, it was to find Elrond standing next to the massive bed. Eagerly, Faramir crossed the space between them and claimed the elf’s mouth in a hungry kiss.

Arms entwined, bodies pressed together, they feasted on each other. Slow exploration gave way to fiery caresses as their passion built.

Faramir gasped as he fell back against the bed. Sensations flooded his body. He opened his eyes to see Elrond kneeling over him, straddling him. A shiver of pleasure and anticipation ran through hi. He reached up and danced his hands over the smooth skin of the elf’s chest.

Similar,” Faramir murmured. “Yet different.”

Let us celebrate both,” the lord answered as he leaned down to place another kiss upon the man’s lips.

“Yes,” Faramir purred as he grasped Elrond’s hips. With persistent pressure, he encouraged the Elven lord to move further up his torso. Almost immediately his tongue flicked out to swirl around the head of the elf’s shaft. A low moan was his reward, that and his first taste of his lover’s essence. Faramir smiled as Elrond pushed his hips forward. He took just the head in his mouth, sucking gently at first before suddenly taking the entire length of Elrond’s cock into his mouth.

Breath stolen from his lungs as the pleasure short through him, the lord could barely even whimper. It was clear that his lover was not only experienced but talented. The only thing they needed to learn was each other. Yet, as much as he wanted to savor the smooth slide of Faramir’s mouth over the silken skin of his shaft, he knew he would not last long. He had many things he wanted to share with the man this night.

Farmair growled in protest as Elrond pulled from his mouth. Strong archer fingers dug into the elf lord’s hips in an effort to keep the hard cock between his lips. He craved a full taste of his lover’s essence and was most unhappy at being denied said treat.

He was about to express his displeasure further when Elrond aligned their bodies and lowly rocked his hips, bringing their hard shafts together. Faramir’s protests turned to groans of pleasure as his hips bucked, seeking firmer contact.

“I do not wish to wait much longer to be one with you,” the elf lord purred before nipping his earlobe then suckling.

“I hope you have something to ease the way,” Faramir panted as he writhed between the skilled hands and mouth of his lover.

“A healer is always prepared,” Elrond chuckled as he grabbed a vial from his nightstand. “Tell me melethron, do you wish to play the sword or the sheath?”

“It has been far too long since I have done so,” the man breathed. “But I can think of no other I would be more willing to play sheath to than you.”

Elrond felt both thrilled and humbled. He claimed Faramir’s mouth in a kiss that said both, his tongue dipping in to taste the sweetness of the man beneath him. He savored every moment of the contact in a way only those who have all the time in the world can, prolonging the pleasure he gave to his partner.

Then, with infinite care, he prepared Faramir for his possession. Elrond noted every nuance that crossed the man’s face. He continued only when the sweat slicked auburn curls tossed back and forth on the pillow in wordless ecstasy. Only when Faramir began to thrust down onto the three fingers inside him did Elrond withdraw and position himself between the strong taut thighs.

His body quivering with anticipation, the elf lord slowly pushed forward, continuing until the entire length of his hard cock was buried deep inside Faramir’s passage. For a moment, Elrond remained still, his body and mind overcome with the sense of completion, of wholeness, that surrounded him. In that instant, he knew Faramir held his heart.

It had been so long since he had felt anyone inside him that the sense of being stretched and full seemed almost new. Lifting his legs up and parting them even wider sank his lover even further inside his tight sheath. A deep guttural groan rumbled through his chest. In those first few moments, the man had no desire to move. He only wished to wallow in the feel of Elrond’s shaft pulsing inside his body.

However, the very nature of this act was not one of stillness or passivity. It requested, nay demanded movement and action. Neither of them could resist the urge to move and thrust, to carry their pleasure higher and higher until every sound was pure bliss wrapped in a name or guttural moans.

Elrond’s sense of the world narrowed to the feel of his cock sliding repeatedly into Faramir’s clenching passage. The pulsing hot need to come was second only to the desire to see the man come undone, to have his body explode with pleasure wrapped tight around the elf’s throbbing shaft. The lord of Imladris was nothing if not persistent when it came to getting what he wanted. Unerringly he hit Faramir’s sweet spot, that tiny bundle of nerves that made the man writhe, clench and moan with every contact.

“I love the feel of you inside me,” Faramir moaned, his eyes glued to the sight of Elrond’s shaft filling him again and again. “Make me come, Elrond. Make me come with your cock buried deep in my ass.”

The unexpected words continued along with begging and pleading. Never had the lord’s previous lovers spoken in such a manor and he found it most exciting.

“Yes,” Faramir growled as he tossed his head back, meeting each thrust with one of his own. “Yes, Fuck me harder.”

Sight, sound, and sensation conspired against Elrond. Not to mention the sudden clenching of Faramir’s inner muscles and the feel of his lover’s seed spattering against his sweating chest. With a guttural roar, he came, his essence spilling deep within the tight channel surrounding him.

After several minutes he collapsed against Faramir’s chest. He did not even have the energy to pull his softening shaft from the man’s body. In truth, he did not wish to lose their connection just yet.

Faramir closed his eyes, waiting for his breathing to slow. Never had he felt such pleasure. He only wished it would continue. The sudden shaking of Elrond’s shoulders drew him from his hazy thoughts. The elf lord was laughing.

“What is so funny?” Faramir asked.

“I have had many lovers in my life,” Elrond said. “None of them have ever spoken such words to me, nor made such…wickedly erotic demands.”

Immediately, Faramir blushed and dropped his gaze. Had he offended the elf with his words? Gentle fingers lifted his chin until he met the dark eyes of his lover.

“It was incredibly arousing, something I wish to hear again… and again,” Elrond said with a wicked grin. “You have a delightfully naughty mouth, Faramir nin.”

“When we have rested, I will show you exactly how naughty I can be.” Faramir answered cheekily.

“Then by all means, let us rest,” The lord laughed as he turned them on their sides. “The sooner you may have your wicked way with me.”

“It will be our pleasure,” Faramir chuckled as they curled around each other. Soon they were fast asleep though they would wake and come together many more times that night and in the weeks to come.

The years passed and Faramir proved more than adequate in whatever task he undertook. Though he brought great joy to his bonded love, Faramir could tell there was something wrong with Elrond. His mate seemed tired all the time, like the burdens he had carried for so long just doubled in weight and were crushing him. Watching the Elven lord wander through the thriving gardens of Minas Tirith, Faramir felt helpless.

“You are worried, young Steward,” Came Gandalf’s wizened voice.

“He tries so hard to hide it from me,” Faramir answered. “But he is fading away from me.”

“Long has he carried the weight of a Ring of Power,” the wizard nodded. “None have gone through as many trials as Elrond. He has borne each burden with a dignity and grace befitting one of the Firstborn from a very young age. Now it is time for him to rest.”

“Then he must leave Middle Earth to be happy?” the Steward asked softly.

“I would think his happiness on the White Shores entirely dependant on your presence there,” Gandalf chuckled at the wide-eyed stare.

“Can… I can go with him?” Faramir asked hesitantly not daring to hope.

“The Valar did not acknowledge and bless your bond only to separate you. Or did you miss the eagles attending your bonding ceremony?” Gandalf said with another smile. “It is best if you set your affairs in order and quickly Faramir. The White Ships do not wait forever.”

The wizard watched the half-elf sprint from his watch post down the stairs and into the gardens. He grabbed his mate, swinging the lord into the air with a joyous laugh as he shared the Ishtari’s tidings. When Elrond was finally placed back on his feet, his stormy eyes shot to the twinkling blue of his long time friend. Gandalf merely nodded. The Son of Eárendil’s smile rivaled the light of his father’s star.

“Now my work is done.” Gandalf murmured with satisfaction.

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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7 Comment(s)

Oh. This was absolutely lovely.

— Ruby    Saturday 29 December 2007, 18:41    #

So good! But what happened to Eomer and Legolas?

— somerset    Sunday 30 December 2007, 0:56    #

I’m so glad you guys enoyed this. Again, it isn’t my normal pairings so it was a bit of a challenge to write. As for Eomer and Legolas, I am working on their story now. However, the horselord is being a horse’s ass right now.

El    Monday 31 December 2007, 13:03    #

I loved this. Nice to see Faramir in love with Elrond.

— balrog    Saturday 12 January 2008, 7:07    #

wery good :)

but more of Eomer and Legolas, please :*

— NessSachiel    Friday 18 January 2008, 9:26    #

Aw, nice story! Good luck with the Legolas and Eomer. =)

— Laivindur    Monday 30 April 2012, 22:54    #

I read the story about Legolas and Eomer. Nice one :)

— Laivindur    Tuesday 1 May 2012, 19:35    #

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