Gone

Gone

Chapter 10
Author: Frosty the Obstetrician
Rated: NC-17
Codes: Aragorn, Faramir, Boromir, Legolas, OC, AU, N/C.
Summary: A series of events in Middle-earth leads to a darkened King, the departure of the elves, and a realization by those who remain.
Author's Notes: Elvish translations are in parentheses.

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*

The door closed with a soft click. Idril held the cloak tightly around her body as though it would protect her from Aragorn's touch. She shivered, though, when he touched her shoulder and led her to the bath. "Clean up," he said, "I will get you something else to wear."

He shut the door. Idril's eyes flickered up to the mirror and she winced at her disheveled appearance. Stepping closer, she looked carefully over her face. It was beyond her understanding why Boromir had not seen the crisis she was in.

Cupping a handful of water from thek, sk, she drank deeply. Once her throat felt less parched, she began to smooth away the dirt from her skin. The cloak fell from her shoulders and she disrobed, smoothing the wet cloth over her bruised flesh. It painfully reminded her of the reality of what had just occured, and made her realize that he was still on the other side of that door, waiting for her.

Idril took her time cleansing. There was nothing else she could do. The room was devoid of anything remotely weapon-like, and there were no windows for escape. She would have to face Aragorn again. Her stomach sank when she thought about what she would have to endure the rest of the day. And what after that? Would this be her life from now on?

Her thoughts went to Faramir. She wondered if Boromir had told him that she was with the King now.

"I have a dress for you."

Idril jumped and turned, nearly slipping on the wet floor. She tried in vain to cover herself as Aragorn stood at the threshold of the door, a blue garment in hand. She hadn't even noticed him enter. Grabbing the dirty cloak from the floor, she stood up and held it in front of her.

He smiled and walked in. "There is no need to be shy," he said, setting the dress on the edge of the counter, "There will be no secrets between us."

With wide eyes she watched him but did not respond. Seemingly disappointed with her silence, he sighed and touched her cheek. "Dress. Do not be long." He turned and headed to the door.

"Why?" she breathed just before the door closed. He stopped and knit his brow, not understanding. She clarified. "Why a dress? Are we going out?"

His expression softened. "Of course not. I only want you to look your best." The door closed with a click.

She wouldn't be able to avoid him. Taking a long, deep breath, she dropped the cloak and slipped into the dress provided. It was simple and sleek, reminding her that he very likelntednted something she could easily get out of. It made her sick to think of such things.

As Idril stared at the door, unable to move, her mind began to wander. Legolas. Elrond. They were gone, unable to help. She would have been with them, had Arwen not died.

At that moment, she welcomed death.

Looking up, she knew she could never submit like Aragorn demanded. The will to defy was still strong within her, no matter what he did to her. She worried for Faramir, but if she ended up dying by the King's hand, at least he would realize what Aragorn was capable of. Perhaps then some good would come of this.

There was a noise at the door and it creaked open. When Aragorn looked in and took in her appearance, he cocked his head. "Why have you not come out?"

She shifted her feet. "I don't want to."

Sighing, he opened the door wide and looked at her in disappointment. "Have you learned nothing? This need not be difficult."

"I can't submit to you. I won't." She raised her chin defiantly. "Save your threats, for they will not work."

Aragorn shook his head and smiled. "Come here."

Idril's muscles tensed. "No."

He blinked back his growing irritation. "I am not a violent man, Idril. Don't make me hurt you. Come here."

"No." She held her breath as he came for her, grabbing her by the arm. "Let me go," she growled, jerking back.

He did not release her. Angry, he pulled her from the bath and out into the main room, throwing her to the floor. "I see what you're trying to do," he said softly, looking down on her as though she had no value, "I will not fall for your plans. The Valar have given you to me as a gift, and I intend to share that pleasure with you, no matter if you want it or not. I am not selfish. I do not want to simply take." He kneeled down, his blue eyes glinting in the light. "Once you feel it, I know you will understand."

Aragorn reached for her. Startled and scared, Idril turned and tried to run. She heard him lunge for her as she stood, but was surprised when his hands did not touch her. Running for the door, she grabbed the handle and swung it open...

...and stopped in her tracks.

Eldarion looked up at her with wide, surprised eyes. Before she could react, a hand clasped her shoulder. "Eldarion," said Aragorn, drawing Idril back from the door, "You just saved me a hunt. Thank you, son."

Idril moved her eyes to the King. He had not anticipated her attempt at escape. If Eldarion had not been there, she would have gotten away. Tightening her fists, she looked back down at the boy. He seemed uncertain at what was occuring. "Eldarion..," she started, planning to use him to help her own situation. Her voice was cut off by a hand to her mouth.

Her frightened eyes mirrored those of the boy. "It is alright, son," said Aragorn, holding his hand tight on her mouth, "Do not be scared. Idril and I are merely playing a game." He narrowed his eyes. "Why are you here?"

The child seemed to have difficulty with his father's actions. He looked down at his hands and stammered a reply. "I...I wanted to see you."

Breathing deeply and watching carefully, Idril caught a flash of pain move over the King's expression. "I'm busy," he answered, his voice strained, "I will come see you later." When Eldarion did not move from the door, he added, "Please. Go back to your room."

Eldarion looked up, meeting Idril's gaze before settling on his father's. He nodded softly and turned away, heading back down the hall. Aragorn pulled Idril away from the threshold and shut the door. "How can you be so cruel to your son?" she spat when he released his hand, "Don't you see how you're acting?"

"He will understand," he replied, "I know I wrong him, but it is not long until the end. Eldarion will understand then."

"You are self" sh" she said through clenched teeth.

He nodded solemnly. "Perhaps."

Idril looked past Aragorn at the door. "Let me go. Things can change. I know you used to be a good man. Legolas told me you could be trusted, and I believed him. Show me that he was right."

She stood her ground as he came forward and sighed. "I am no longer that person." When his hand brushed hers, she pulled away and he looked up. "I will not let you go."

Knowing a surprise attack would work best, Idril clenched a fist and sent it towards his face. He was quick, though, and managed to jerk back in time. Idril missed and tried to run past him, but he darted an arm out and caught her midsection, hauling her back towards the bed on the far end of the room. She screamed and he shoved her away, slapping her hard across the face to quiet her. She stumbled, but was quickly grabbed again and thrown down to the bed.

Regaining her senses, Idril turned and tried crawling towards the other side of the bed. Aragorn leaned forward and took hold of her ankles, pulling her back until her lower body hung over the side of the mattress. Straddling her legs, he gripped her arms and held them together behind her back, then dipped his face towards her ear. "Fight if you must, but I will have you," he hissed, using one hand to pull the soft fabric of her gown up her legs. "You will not be able to resist for long."

She struggled, but his grip was strong. The hand he trailed up the back of her leg sent sparks of fear through her body. She tried pulling away, but he held her steady. Aragorn's hungry breath was loud in the quiet room as he bunched the dress at her hips and rubbed her backside.

The hand was lifted. Her eyes tried to see what he was doing, but it was too difficult to turn. From the sound of his movements, it seemed as if he was disrobing. She jerked her arms, trying to make him release her, but he held on. "Hold still," he said, sounding amused by her attempts at escape, "I will let you go eventually."

"Please stop," she breathed. He didn't respond. She noticed him kick away his pants when they pooled at his feet and felt the familiar tension in her abdomen. It would not be long now.

Suddenly, her hands were released. In one swift movement, she pushed herself up and tried to get away, but his warm hands fell upon her hips and she found herself falling to the bed once again. When Idril attempted to stand, he kicked her legs out from under her. Her nerves stood on end as she felt his hardness against her, and he gave no warning when he pushed himself inside her unready body. The rush of pain alone was enough to make her collapse upon the sheets. Aragorn's groan was full of heat and pleasure, but the sound that came from her lips was filled with anguish.

"Sweet thing," he breathed, pulling back slowly and entering again, "I will make it better, I promise." Idril bit her lip to keep from whimpering, but she knew he sensed her pain.

Aragorn stopped moving within her. Idril's breathing was rough as he wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her up until her back was against him. Still holding her, he used his other hand to pull her dress up over her head, baring her. "You're beautiful," he said, kissing her shoulder softly. Idril stood weakly and tried to control her breathing as he rubbed her stomach gently. "Let me make this good for you."

Tears threatened to fill her eyes. "No," she growled. She pushed at his hand, trying to force it away from her body even while he was still inside her. It was a futile attempt.

His touch descended to below her abdomen. Aragorn spent no time in touching her, sinking a finger into the folds of her warm flesh and igniting unwanted sensations within her body. He rubbed against her sensitivity with a skilled hand, using his other to pet her breast in a similar way. Each time he pinched she felt her knees weaken. Biting her tongue, she tried to keep herself from vocalizing. He would only use her voice against her.

Aragorn's tongue lapped at her ear. "I can feel you tighten," he mused, "I know it feels good."

Idril closed her eyes and did not respond. What he said was truth, and it made her sick. Her body was failing her, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

It became obvious that the King himself could no longer stand to simply pleasure her. Pressing his free hand against her back, he carefully adjusted her so she leaned forward. "Hold yourself up," he said, and she did what she was told, placing her hands on the bed in front of her. She had very little strength left to deny him anything. It pleased him to see her do as she was told. "Good girl. Now, be strong."

Removing his hand from her aching flesh, he held onto her hips and began to thrust. Is sls slow at first, but each time he entered further and she felt her throat constrict in pain and disgust. She tried to hold herself still and steady, but the weakness began to overtake her. Her elbows buckled and she fell to the bed. Tears streamed down her cheeks.

He was too far gone to care. The thrusts became more seeking and strong as he plunged against her body over and over again. Soon she became to worn to even feel the pain; all that was left was numbness. A deep-throated groan escaped Aragorn's lips and the grip on her hips weakened. He had finished his assault.

After he pulled from her, Idril climbed onto the bed and lay down, curling into herself. She felt at least partially grateful that he had not gone through with his insistence that she gain pleasure from her rape as well.

She couldn't watch as he clothed his lower body. She knew he watched her, though. There was no escaping the feeling she got when he looked at her. "Idril." His voice was tender and gentle. It made her angry. When he said her name again she looked up and he smiled. "I am sorry I could not control myself. I promised you something, though, and I always keep my promises."

A rush of fear thrilled through her body. "No," she breathed, sitting up, "Please, leave me alone."

He shushed her and sat upon the bed. When he reached for her and she attempted to pull away, the gentleness upon his face turned into an expression of impatience. "Come here," he said, his voice hard, and she couldn't help but allow a few tears to slip from her eyes as she pulled her down to the bed. His body was warm against hers as he quite insistently held her down until she stopped struggling. "You will thank me when this is done."

"Never."

She had wanted to sound strong and defiant, but everything that he had done to her had weakened her spirit. He smiled. "You do not even believe it yourself," he said, his breath warm on her. A hand rested on her bare stomach. "I will make you want this."

Idril knew she would not be able to fight him off. Giving in to the fact that this would happen, she stared past his face to the ceiling and waited. She would fight the feelings, but knew that, in the end, he would most likely win. There was only so much she could do against one so demanding.

His fingers penetrated her. She writhed beneath his seeking touch, intent on denying him as best she could. Her body was still sensitive from before, though, and reacted strongly to his patient caress. Tension stalked up her legs and into her abdomen as he thrust within her body, alternating the speed and strength. He watched her carefully, noticing each time she shuddered, and smiled when something affected her deeply. "That's my girl," he breathed, fingering her soft hair as his petting became more insistent.

Idril closed her eyes and tightened her legs against him. It was no longer of any use fighting him off. With undeniable eriterity he managed to send her over the edge. Holding back a groan, she arched into his hand and bit her lip, feeling her entire body jerk under his skill. A tear rolled down her cheek as she gripped the bedsheets in her hands and allowed the feeling within her to consume her body.

It did not last long. Her breathing was heavy as he removed his hand and placed a tender kiss on her lips. "I told you it would be good." Brushing the wetness from her cheek, he rose and retrieved her dress. "Clothe yourself."

She did not take the dress. In shock, Idril simply lay there in silence. He dropped the gown beside her.

There was a knock at the door. Surprised and scared, she jerked up and took the dress, pulling it over her body. With wide eyes, she stared at the door, wondering if it was once again Eldarion, or perhaps someone else. Aragorn looked at her, seeking her attention. He pressed his fingers to his lips in a not-so-subtle attempt to make sure she kept silent and secretive. Her entire body trembled as he approached the door.

Resisting the violent urge to run to the door, she held her breath as it opened. She tightened her fists when Boromir appeared.

"What is it?" Aragorn's voice was tinged with irritation.

The Captain's eyes flickered to her, but relayed no comfort. Brushing past the King, he entered the room and turned his back to her. "There's a problem."

"Deal with it yourself." Aragorn opened the door wide and raised his eyebrows. "Leave."

Boromir ignored him. "This is serious."

Aragorn looked at Idril, who averted her own gaze. She was so on edge, hoping that Boromir would help her. It looked unlikely. "What is it?" She looked up when the King spoke and saw him waiting expectantly for the Captain's explanation. It occured to her that she should jump up and plead for help from Boromir, anything that would make this stop. After all, wouldn't she ratdie die than keep living like this?

She opened her mouth, about to speak, when a movement at the open door caught her eye. "There is an issue with one of our people," explained Boromir, and she frowned in his direction wondering if he saw what she did. "They have become a danger to this city."

Patience disappeared from the King's face, replaced by an angry understanding. It was at that moment that someone stepped into the room. Idril froze in fear and relief as Faramir swiftly and quietly rested his sword at Aragorn's back.

The King smiled softly, as though unaffected by what was occuring. "An ambush, Boromir?" he said, chastising gently, "Is this the best plan you could come up with?"

"At such late notice, yes," he responded. "I recommend you remain still. I imagine Faramir is not in the best of moods."

Aragorn's eyes twinkled as they flickered to Idril. "No," he drawled, "I don't suppose he would be."

Faramir pressed the point of the blade against Aragorn's neck. "Are you alright, Idril?" he asked, not daring to remove his eyes from the King.

It finally hit her that she was no longer captive. "Yeah," she breathed, stumbling to her weak legs. She held her arms around herself and walked to Boromir, looking up at him as she approached. His green eyes held a measure of concern.

"Go," he said, nodding towards the door. "Stay in your rooms. Faramir will come to you when we've taken care of Aragorn."

Her eyes began to water as she nodded. Unable to look at the King as she passed, she saved her glance for the younger Captain. "Thank you," she whispered as she passed, not wanting to distract him from holding Aragorn still. She trembled as she made her way out of the room and down the hall, worrying for the safety of the Captains, and nervous about what could happen next.

*

It had been hours. After being rescued from Aragorn, Idril had come back to her rooms to clean up. Once she had scrubbed every inch of her skin trying to remove the King's touch, she had settled upon the bed and waited for Faramir. She had been exhausted, though, and had succumbed to the weariness within. Now, as her eyelids fluttered open in the dark room, she wondered why he had not come to her yet. Her heart hammered in her chest as her mind took on different avenues of thought: what if Aragorn had managed to escape? What if something was wrong? What if Faramir didn't want to see her?

Tears stung her eyes. She had to keep reminding herself that none of this was her fault. It was hard to remember that the only blame fell to Aragorn, and she was not responsible for the hurt Faramir must have been feeling. She knew him well enough to know that he would care. How could he not?

Unable to sleep any longer, she sat up and looked out the window. The moon was low in the velvet blue sky; it was only early evening.

A quiet knock on the door caused her heart to skip a beat. Taking a deep breath and biting her lip, she stood up and approached it. To both her relief and pain, Faramir was on the other side of the door.

The look in his eyes was unmistakable. She felt herself begin to wilt under his concern and apprehension, so she averted her eyes and walked back to the bed, leaving the door open for him. He took the hint and entered, closing it softly behind him.

"Do you have any candles?"

She looked up and saw him scouting the room for light. She had felt safe in the dark, but knew she could not hide in it forever. Without speaking, she tugged open a drawer and took out some matches. The smell of sulphur invaded her senses as she lit a flame and touched it to the wicks of the candles on her bedside table.

She felt the bed move beside her. Setting down the matches, she took a deep breath and turned to meet Faramir's gaze. The candlelight flickered in his eyes, adding to threadready haunted look he possessed. She felt a jolt of worry over what he would say to her.

"Did you clean She She looked down at her hands and nodded. "Did you sleep?" Again, she nodded. "Will you not talk to me?"

Her voice was a slip of a whisper when she spoke. "What would you have me say?"

"Tell me what happened. Tell me....tell me you're alright."

She met his eyes. His expression begged for something she did not expect. "Faramir," she breathed, raising nd and and touching his face, "This is not your fault."

His eyes closed as he moved to hold her warm hand against his cheek. "I am so sorry," he said, kissing her palm.

A tear streamed down his cheek. Swallowing hard, she asked, "Did Aragorn tell you what he did?"

She could tell he was loathe to respond, but nodded anyways. Idril knew Aragorn would have been frank and graphic in his beliefs and about what he had done to her. "I wish you did not have to hear that."

Faramir sighed and pulled back. "I needed to. I still have trouble believing it. How could he be capable of such things?"

"I don't know." She watched as he ran his hands through his hair. "What will be done with him?"

He shook his head. "I'm not certain. Boromir has taken over as leader of the city. I suspect he will decide."

Boromir. She had nearly forgotten. "Did your brother suspect something was wrong with Aragorn? Is that why you both came for me?"

"Yes."

Guilt swept over her as she thought about how she had cursed his name. "I must thank him. I had thought he had deserted me. I was mistaken." She looked up. "I owe him my life. And you."

"He had to deceive both you and Aragorn in order to find me. I know he did not want to leave you with him, but I don't think he felt he had any other choice."

"I know." There was an uncomfortable silence before Idril decided to ask what was on her mind. "Faramir, do you feel wronged by what happened?"

The surprise on his face was evident. "Wronged? What do you mean?"

"I'm not sure what I expected, but you seem...distant. Unhappy. I know you care for me, and I care for you. I want to know if you're hurt by what Aragorn did."

"You think I blame you?" His eyebrows knit in an expression of frustration. "How can you think that?"

She shook her head. "Alright, you don't blame me. But you must be wondering about something. You're so quiet! Please, tell me what you're thinking."

He averted his gaze and took a deep breath. "You're right. I am wondering something." Biting his lip, he flickered his eyes to hers. "I'm wondering when you're leaving."

Idril frowned at the unexpected question. "Leaving? What are you talking about?"

Obviously uncomfortable, Faramir stood up and began pacing the room. "When this relationship began, I fully understood that your intentions were to follow your people to the Havens when your work here was complete." He stopped and looked down at her. "I thought I had time. I thought, if nothing else, I could keep you for a while. But now," he shook his head and sat back down, "I expect that you will not be staying for Eldarion. With everything that's happened, I would not blame you at all for wanting to leave here immediately. So that is what I'm wondering. This is what I've been thinking about ever since you left Aragorn's room. Please tell me, Idril, how much time do I have left?"

She felt numbed by his words. She couldn't lie and not say that the Havens hadn't crossed her mind, but not once did she think of leaving without looking back. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No," he responded without hesitation, "I know now what I feel, and I want you to stay more than anything. But I will not ask you to do that if the only healing you can get is from what lies across the sea."

"It makes me very happy to hear you say that." She smiled and sighed heavily, relief washing over her. "I worried you didn't want me to stay."

His hand brushed her hair over her shoulder. "I will do everything in my power to help you through this," he said, leaning down to look her clearly in the eye, "I promise."

Idril slowly enveloped him in a tight hug. He felt so good against her, warm and relaxing and safe. "Thank you," she whispered as they parted.

"For what?"

"For being there for me. You're all I have."

His hand enveloped hers. "Are you sure about this? About staying?" When she nodded, he squeezed her hand. "I will do everything possible to make this place home for you, Idril."

"Good. I'll need help." She looked down on her entwined hands and sighed. "I want to continue taking care of Eldarion as well. He has no family now."

"Boromir and I are going to speak with him in the morning. Would you like to be there as well?"

She nodded and looked up. "What do you think Elessar's fate will be?"

"I honestly cannot say. Aragorn is a traitor to the land. He may be dealt with accordingly." Faramir did not look happy with this thought.

"Death?" Idril shook her head in sadness. "Is that really necessary?"

He looked at her, somewhat confused. "You do not wish for vengeance?"

"I do not wish for death. For anyone." It gave her a sick feeling to think of Aragorn still in the city, so close to her, but she knew that the reason he had done this to her was because he had suffered. Something had taken ahold of him. In a way, it was not his fault.

"Tomorrow we will speak with Boromir. He may have more information then." His hand brushed through her hair, lng hng her gently. "You should rest now. Think of this no longer."

"It weighs on me, Faramir. It is still to early to escape." As much as she wanted to, she could not rest. "I will not be able to sleep."

"Will you at least lie down?" His blue eyes sparkled in concern.

"Only if you will lie with me."

He smiled and pulled off his boots, then lied down beside her upon the bed. Idril felt comforted by his proximity. His hand rubbed her arm gently, and she knew he was trying to get her to fall asleep. With a frown she wondered if what Aragorn had done to her would cause Faramir to act differently with her. "Faramir," she said after a minute, and he grunted in response, "Will you touch me?"

His voice was smooth as he breathed into her hair. "I am touching you."

Idril turned to look at him. "No," she replied, taking his hand and squeezing it, "I mean, touch me."

He looked surprised, and more than a little unsure. "Idril, you've just been through a terrible ordeal. Should you not...rest?"

"Don't treat me like a broken doll," she responded sourly, "The last thing I want is for you to think I can never be touched again."

"I won't think that. I don't. I want to touch you, but I know you need to heal first."

"Part of that healing is making sure that what happened doesn't stop me from enjoying what we had." He looked uncertain, and she nodded. "You're afraid, aren't you?"

Faramir's eyes flashed. "Of course I'm afraid," he hissed, "I'm terrified of hurting you."

"Don't be," she replied quiety, touching his face as he looked down on her with sorrowed eyes, "You could never hurt me the way he did."

His voice turned soft. "I know. I would never do that to you. But I can still hurt you. I can still remind you of what he did."

Idril smiled. "You are miles different from Elessar, Faramir. His touch was not invited." She brought his palm to her mouth and kissed gently. "Yours is."

"Forgive me. It may take a while for my own fear and anger to lessen."

She pressed another kiss to his hand. "I understand. But please, I need you to understand what I need. Don't pull away from me."

His eyes looked over her face and rested on her lips. "I won't."

Snaking a hand around his neck, Idril pulled him into a soft, sweet kiss. He was familiar and welcome, and so very gentle with her as his tongue darted circles in her mouth. It was a needed diversion, and fully chased every thought of Aragorn from her mind.

Faramir seemed to not need anything more to convince him of what she wanted. His kiss was long and slow, seemingly intent on taking his time. As her hands slid over his shoulders and squeezed, he groaned low in his throat and attacked her mouth with a new fervor.

She gasped in a breath when he moved his kisses to her jawline. Closing her eyes, she ran her fingers through his hair and took intense pleasure in feeling his warm lips upon the skin of her jaw and throat.

The air chilled the kisses he left upon her flesh as he moved down her chest, releasing the loose ties of her gown and parting the fabric. Idril arched into his touch as his moist tongue traced circles around the centre of her breasts. Spurred on by the hand running through his hair, he bit tenderly, eliciting a weak moan from her lips.

Faramir pulled the straps of her dress down her shoulders, then parted from her body and watched her as he drew the clothing off her hips and down her legs. Idril raised her hips up to allow easy passage and was soon nude before him. She felt no anxiety, all thoughts of Aragorn departed from her mind.

He laid over her and captured her mouth in a lusty kiss. Idril's fingers worked at his tunic as she returned the kiss, and soon she pushed the fabric over his broad shoulders and off his body. Faramir pulled it away and tossed it aside, intent on her lips. She smiled into his mouth and ran her hands along his strong chest, resting them on his waist.

He shifted under her touch and sighed. He looked down on her bemusedly as he worked at the ties of his pants and slipped them down his hips without sitting up. Idril grinned as he kicked them off and to the floor.

Faramir's interest was hard against her as she parted her legs. "I want to make you happy," he breathed, touching the tip of his length to her warmth. "Moan for me." She blinked her eyes closed and whimpered as he slid into her moist opening. Idril moaned his name and he grinned, then leaned down to bite at her full lips.

She rocked her hips upwards causing Faramir to bite back a groan. Idril wrapped her legs around him as he began an achingly slow pace to their pleasure. She tried to urge him into moving faster, but he was intent on prolonging the tease. He jerked into her and she gasped and arched back, allowing him to attack her throat with his lips. Idril knew she would be marked, but it didn't bother her. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to be thought of as his only.

His thrusts became more seeking. Sliding her arms around him, she held tight as the tension within her body grew. He whispered words she couldn't understand in her ear as he drove for her end. It was a delirious feeling, and she dug her nails into his skin as he led her to the edge.

Idril cried out as he thrust heavily into her. He continued to thrust against her trembling body, searching for his own relief. It didn't take long until she heard him groan and felt his body rest upon hers.

Inhaling deeply, she smiled at how much she enjoyed his scent. "You made me very happy," she said and he looked up with a raised eyebrow. "I'm just letting you know you succeeded."

Faramir laughed and pushed off from her, settling in at her side. "I'm pleased I could please you."

Idril shifted to bring the covers over their cooling bodies. He laid an arm over her and brought her closer. "Tomorrow we will start fresh. How does that sound?"

"Good," she replied, closing her eyes and not allowing any ill thought to penetrate her mind. His warmth made her smile. "Very good."

*

FINIS