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Unholy Light (NC-17) Print

Written by December

05 January 2020 | 6480 words | Work in Progress

Title: Unholy Light
Author: December
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Faramir
Warnings: Non-con, torture, psychological torture, AU canon divergence, dark!fic
Author's note.,Alright everybody,I am sorry about this. It's my first (and quite unplanned) dabble into the dark fic realm. I blame it all on watching too many compilations of the GOT most brutal scenes in one go. This may never live up to that standard

Things go pear-shaped towards the end of the quest to destroy the One Ring, and Boromir is left with impossible choices on his hands as his darkest hopes are dragged to the light.
Added: Chapter 5

[ all pages ]

‘Now it is a strange thing,
but things that are good to have
and days that are good to spend
are soon told about, and not much to listen to;
while things that are uncomfortable,
palpitating, and even gruesome,
may make a good tale,
and take a deal of telling anyway.’

“The Hobbit”

Part 1.

As the sun rises, the page comes running to tell the new Steward that his younger brother has finally awoken.

That walk to the Wards seems like the longest journey in Boromir’s life.

It is a bright morning, the empty corridor airy and full of light.

He stands silent before the shut door.

Gathering strength.

He draws a heavy breath, feels his fingers curl into his palms. He would rather face a horde of Uruk-hai, than this.

It had taken weeks, and all of the healing wisdom left in the land to nurse Faramir back to life, and Boromir should be rejoicing in it more than anyone, and yet…

The knot in his stomach is so tight there is a distinct possibility that he might literally be physically sick.

Without warning, the door opens in his face.

The erstwhile leader of the Fellowship, dressed all in white, steps out, wiping his hands dry on a towel as he walks.

His expression is pointedly contained, as though he has no reason to have anything other than practical tasks on his mind.

“I was just changing his dressings,” he explains. As though it is actually important.

Boromir purses his lips, nods. As though what they say now makes any difference.

The older man wipes his hands some more, then glances at him sideways, without quite meeting his eyes.

“Boromir, I…” he shakes his head at the futility of trying to put the unspeakable into words. After a moment of hesitation, he places his hand on the man’s shoulder. “Just remember, please. It was not your fault.”

“You were a good sport, my old friend.”

The Steward raised his head with as much pride as the iron collar around his neck allowed.

“I am no friend of yours, beast.”

The grey lips curled, showing the fangs.

“So clever, aren’t you just? Thinking you can provoke me into giving you a quick death. How adorable. You mortals never cease to amuse.”

“Your arrogance is pathetic.”

The armoured hand came close enough for Denethor to feel the raw heat against his cheek. He did not flinch.

“You would like this, old man, wouldn’t you? I could burn you to a shell in a minute.” The hand was withdrawn, another twisted grin. “But no, that would not do us justice at all, would it now? All those years you gave me, staring into your magic ball in your little tower. That was good fun.”

The Steward turned away in distaste.

“You will look at your master when spoken to, Gondorian scum.” An invisible force gripped him on the chin and forced his face to turn. Again that self-satisfied sneer. “What we have is special, it would really be quite ungenerous to kill you without repaying the debt. Let no one say I am not a fair-minded lord. Let me entertain you in turn.”

He called something quick in the Morgul tongue.

Denethor’s eyes widened as a young man was dragged into the chamber and thrown to the floor, but he withheld any further emotion.

“You seem unimpressed, your grace. How disappointing. My boys went to all this trouble.”

The captor regarded the bound shape at his feet, struggling to get up against the many tight loops of chain, then gave it a disinterested prod with the pointed tip of his iron boot. Like a cat undecided if it will bother to play with a new toy.

“Oh, but that’s right, how very foolish of me. This one was never your favourite, was he? Good thing I have a back up option for you.”

At this, the Orc guards returned, dragging in a second man, so alike the first, if a little older.

“No!” Denethor strained against the chains even as his knees went weak and left him hanging by the hands and neck.

The yellow eyes in the visor lit up with interest, the narrow pupils widening into a hungry, gaping void.

“Well,” the heavy armour rang and scraped as Sauron came to stand over the two warriors. “We shall enjoy this very much, shan’t we?”

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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11 Comment(s)

Intriguing and disturbing at the same time. Actually, I’m a bit into this kind of thing, disturbing and nerve-racking, so I’m happy with your choice of darcfiction genre)) Another ‘thank you’ for Denethor, I believe his character to be too complex to be wasted just as a reason of Faramir’s eternal sadness, so it’s nice to see him again. And I really like your choice of words. Please keep writing.

— LCD    Thursday 22 November 2018, 17:38    #

Thanks so much, LCD! Again, your commentary is very thoughtful :)

Well, we shall see what I can make of this genre!

Denethor is an interesting one. I’ve said this elsewhere before, he is indeed more complex than that. Can’t say I exactly like him as a person, but I definitely like him as a character. He is a flawed person who’d had a pretty rough run of it in life, with things getting progressively worse. It doesn’t mean he is an inherent tyrant and madman. If anything, he had endured and fought for a very long time before succumbing. And his relationship with Faramir was not entirely one-sided either.

Thank you for reading!

— December    Friday 23 November 2018, 8:30    #

Can’t wait for you to finish this fic! Perhaps you wouldn’t mind also posting this on An Archive of Our Own so that way readers can get chapter update alerts. I’m afraid I don’t check this site often.

Romanse    Sunday 2 December 2018, 7:05    #

Thank you Romanse! Yes, I always publish both there and here.

— December    Thursday 6 December 2018, 7:43    #

Please, carry on this story as fast as possible. But be merciful. Did you read “The War of the Ring? I’m reading now, and it’s fantastic, especially the relatonship of Faramir and Denethor. :)

— Liza    Friday 14 December 2018, 9:13    #

Thank you Liza! No, I have not… Where can I find it?

— December    Friday 14 December 2018, 9:56    #

It’s the 8th book of The History of Middle-earth series, edited by Christopher Tolkien.

— Liza    Friday 14 December 2018, 12:47    #

Liza, ah, of course it is. With my fanfiction tunnel-vision, l thought it was a fic and tried to look for it on this site! Can’t believe I did not know there was extra material on Faramir out there, and I didn’t know!

— December    Friday 14 December 2018, 23:02    #

Will you countine this story, dear December?

— Eve    Sunday 12 May 2019, 17:11    #

The first time in my life I beg for winter’s month to come back) Please, December, let us enjoy the next chapter, don’t stop your breathtaking storytelling.

— LCD    Wednesday 22 May 2019, 7:18    #

Thank you the new chapter dear December!
How much I was missing this story.

But Boromir… for Eru’s sake I like him but his very very stubborn.

— Eve    Sunday 5 January 2020, 15:58    #

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