Minas Tirith - Legacy of the Ring Bearer
folder
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
20
Views:
4,343
Reviews:
38
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
20
Views:
4,343
Reviews:
38
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
So Close, Yet So Far Away
Fic Name: Minas Tirith - Legacy of the Ring Bearer.
Chapter Name: So close, yet so far away.
Pairing: Faramir/Boromir, Faramir/Frodo, Faramir/Aragorn, Aragorn/Frodo,
Rating: NC17
Archive : That would be cool. Feel free, and Let me know.
Beta: The wonderful and stouthearted HEL!
Timeline: During the War of the Ring, in the final days and the year afterwards.
Synopsis: Faramir learns from Gandalf that he is pregnant with Frodo's child though love does not exist between them, or so the Prince of Gondor believes.
Special Note: Eowyn will figure prominently in this tale as she is someone that Faramir will lean upon, but this is a slash story.
Obviously it’s a slash story anyway if Faramir is pregnant.
Disclaimer: I don't claim to own anything or make any money. Suing me will not do any good, you'd get a quarter at the most. Tolkien owns all the pretty men (and hobbits).
Chapter Seven: So close, yet so far away
The sun rose over Minas Tirith even as people still looked for the Steward’s son. He had apparently vanished into thin air. Frodo had not slept all night for worry, hugging his knees as Eowyn stayed with him. Despite her comfort, he could not help but feel guilty. He should have gone to Faramir immediately. He should not have let Strider baby him. He was a grown hobbit after all, and had just completed a dangerous mission. Sometimes he thought that Aragorn just liked taking care of him. He had done it so often during the quest, Frodo had almost mistaken it for love once. He could have handled a walk down to the Healing House to see the man…the man he…
“Frodo, you haven’t eaten your breakfast yet.” Eowyn said gently, interrupting his thoughts.
He stared at the mixture of apple muffins and soft eggs, “I’m not…I’m not hungry, thank-you.”
“But you have to eat.” she brought a chair up to the edge of the bed and took the lid off the dish. “You need to keep your strength up.”
For the entire night she had watched over Frodo, carefully guiding him to sleep and tending his wounds. She was worried about Faramir, very worried, but Aragorn had asked her to stay and take care of the hobbit. She could not refuse him, and Frodo had slowly become aware that she knew something she wasn’t telling him.
“No thank-you.” he said stubbornly. Many times on the quest Sam had tried to get him to eat, but this time it had nothing to do with the ring. This time it had more to do with how much he wanted to see Faramir and find out what was going on in the man’s head. When they had parted the last time, Faramir had promised they would see each other again if Frodo came to Gondor when the quest was over. He remembered how good it felt to be in the man’s arms, how tender and gentle he was. Truth be told, a part of him had -wanted- to stay in Gondor and give up the ring. That part of him now almost wished that he had.
Eowyn relented upon the food issue, tucking the blanket around him a bit firmer, and her eyes saddened. She reached up to stroke his curls gently, pulling the thick black locks away from his troubled eyes. They were filled now, with fear and more than a little loneliness. The fear she could understand, he worried for Faramir, the other…how could he be lonely when he had Aragorn at his side constantly?
Frodo closed his eyes, pretending to fall back to sleep under her attention, smiling vaguely as he did so. It wasn’t that he didn’t -like- Eowyn, but she did not understand. He and Aragorn had only been lovers once, and that was in Lorien, after Gandalf had died. He had mistaken Aragorn’s feelings for love, but realized after a while that though the man cared a great deal for him, he did not love him. The Ranger had been far more content with healing the hobbit than making love to him, though the process of being loved by Strider had released a lot of pent up emotion for them both. The experience had been volatile, passion had taken over sense. In the end, it helped Frodo deal with the idea of parting from the fellowship. Now, Aragorn sought mainly to slowly bring him back by careful, soothing touches and he loved Strider for it. Yet, he did not -love- the King to be.
Faramir on the other hand, the brief time he’d spent with the Prince of Gondor had solidified into something far more real. He had not been able to stop thinking about the man throughout his entire journey with Sam. Boromir’s brother had been everything Boromir had not been. Sensitive and gentle, witspirspirit that soared high, yet had a tendency to hide behind the clouds. He longed for Faramir’s arms to be wrapped around him, for his hands to be touching him, and most of all for his lips to be caressing him. It was good to dream, and he was very tired now.
****
Faramir woke slowly that morning. A familiar scent rose in his nostrils along with another, unfamiliar one. He was wrapped in a pair of fair skinned arms, held tightly. His head was resting against the other’s shoulder. He touched the skin of the arms that held him, curiously. Soft…soft as the petals of a rose. Then he slid his fingers up to glide through the most beautiful blonde hair he’d ever seen. It too, was soft and fine as silk. His eyes drifted up the fine long neck to the slender face, noting the pointed ears. It took his breath away, the visage that greeted him. Legolas felt the young man stir in his arms and looked to Faramir with a smile. “Good morning.” he said gently. “Are you feeling better?”
How could he not be? What was the problem again? Faramir’s thoughts were far too focused on the elf in his brother’s bed than anything else. He smiled a little stupidly as his hair fell in his overly bright eyes. “I…uh…” he stammered, quite at a loss for words.
Legolas chuckled gently, knowing the young man was confounded at the moment, but he would soon collect himself. He was quite beautiful in the morning, the elf mused. Vibrant, would be the word. His fever had eased, having slept so close to an elf for the night. Still, his wounds would need tending to, and Legolas meant to be certain to make Faramir see a healer. “You slept soundly.” he approved softly.
He felt so young under that eternal gaze. For once, he did not feel any pain, possibly because he hadn’t really moved yet. He wasn’t sure that he -wanted- to move, feeling quite content in this position. Gods, what a vision. Such perfection was rare in this world. He blushed, a soft pink tinting his cheeks as he lowered his gaze. “Yes, yes I did.” Then, the smile on his lips vanished as he began to remember why he was here in the first place. It was morning now, and he would not be able to sneak away so easily. He’d let the elf cajole him into remaining. “But…I must get up now. Thank-you.” The earnest words spoken, the young man struggled into a sitting position, easing himself out of the elf’s arms, despite the fact that he whe wanted to do was remain there. He experienced a bit of vertigo as he rose quickly, and steadied himself. The elf instantly placed a hand on his shoulder, without speaking a word, to relax him.
“I think you’d best remain here and rest.” Legolas spoke gently, meeting the young man with a stern gaze that would listen to no argument. He slipped off the bed and straightened his clothes and hair. Within a few moments, the elf managed to appear as if he had not slept the entire night in his clothes. Faramir grumbled, but complied, lying back down in the bed in spite of his deteriorating mood. “Rest here for a moment, I will return shortly. If you are not here when I return, I will find you, Prince of Gondor. Rest assured about that.”
Faramir had every intention of leaving Boromir’s room just then, but at the elwordwords, he realized that he was cornered. He would have been very unhappy about it, but…for some reason, being cornered by Legolas wasn’t entirely a bad thing. At least he was somewhere quiet and peaceful. He was also somewhere where his father could not get to him, in life or death. He scowled slightly, but nodded as the elf left the room.
***
Eowyn walked out of Frodo’s room just as Legolas left Boromir’s room. She paused, smiling at the Prince lightly. “Good morning, Legolas.” She did not question what he was doing in Boromir’s room, for she did not even know that it belonged to the other, or who in fact, he was. Her expression indicated the morning was not entirely a good one, but she smiled nonetheless.
“Lady Eowyn.” he gave a slight smile, the door to Aragorn’s chambers were open, and neither the Prince nor Eowyn knew that a certain hobbit had risen from his bed intending on searching for his lover despite his promise not to. “Is Aragorn well?”
“He is, he has been out this night searching for Prince Faramir, who has gone missing. I was just with Frodo, he is not doing very well this morning, unfortunately.” Eowyn said softly.
“Searching for Faramir?” The elf rubbed the back of his head, “Oh…He’s in there.” he indicated the room he just emerged from. “We ran across each other last night.”
Eowyn’s eyebrows opened wide, “Is he alright?”
“He is fine, just a little worn out and he is in need of a healer, though he will not admit it himself. I was just going to fetch one.” Legolas explained.
Eowyn eyed the doorway, unsure if Faramir would want her to come in just then, and then she remembered Aragorn. “Oh dear, I have to find Aragorn, and let him know.” With that, they both went in the opposite direction, sure in the knowledge that their charges were resting soundly.
Frodo waited cautiously until they were out of site. His eyes focused then on the door Legolas had mentioned. Faramir was so close, had been so close all night. Trembling a little, he walked towards the door, dressed loosely in a cream colored shirt and brown pants that he’d thrown on just then. He only let his hand rest on the doorknob for a few moments, before he opened it and snuck a peak inside.
He caught his breath. Faramir -was- there. He really was! His back turned to the doorway, he was resting upon his brother’s bed. Several emotions went through the hobbit then, but he let the first take charge. Within a moment he was at the side of the bed and very nearly pounced on the yoman man who started in surprise, and some fear as the hobbit began to cover him with kisses.
**TBC**
Chapter Name: So close, yet so far away.
Pairing: Faramir/Boromir, Faramir/Frodo, Faramir/Aragorn, Aragorn/Frodo,
Rating: NC17
Archive : That would be cool. Feel free, and Let me know.
Beta: The wonderful and stouthearted HEL!
Timeline: During the War of the Ring, in the final days and the year afterwards.
Synopsis: Faramir learns from Gandalf that he is pregnant with Frodo's child though love does not exist between them, or so the Prince of Gondor believes.
Special Note: Eowyn will figure prominently in this tale as she is someone that Faramir will lean upon, but this is a slash story.
Obviously it’s a slash story anyway if Faramir is pregnant.
Disclaimer: I don't claim to own anything or make any money. Suing me will not do any good, you'd get a quarter at the most. Tolkien owns all the pretty men (and hobbits).
Chapter Seven: So close, yet so far away
The sun rose over Minas Tirith even as people still looked for the Steward’s son. He had apparently vanished into thin air. Frodo had not slept all night for worry, hugging his knees as Eowyn stayed with him. Despite her comfort, he could not help but feel guilty. He should have gone to Faramir immediately. He should not have let Strider baby him. He was a grown hobbit after all, and had just completed a dangerous mission. Sometimes he thought that Aragorn just liked taking care of him. He had done it so often during the quest, Frodo had almost mistaken it for love once. He could have handled a walk down to the Healing House to see the man…the man he…
“Frodo, you haven’t eaten your breakfast yet.” Eowyn said gently, interrupting his thoughts.
He stared at the mixture of apple muffins and soft eggs, “I’m not…I’m not hungry, thank-you.”
“But you have to eat.” she brought a chair up to the edge of the bed and took the lid off the dish. “You need to keep your strength up.”
For the entire night she had watched over Frodo, carefully guiding him to sleep and tending his wounds. She was worried about Faramir, very worried, but Aragorn had asked her to stay and take care of the hobbit. She could not refuse him, and Frodo had slowly become aware that she knew something she wasn’t telling him.
“No thank-you.” he said stubbornly. Many times on the quest Sam had tried to get him to eat, but this time it had nothing to do with the ring. This time it had more to do with how much he wanted to see Faramir and find out what was going on in the man’s head. When they had parted the last time, Faramir had promised they would see each other again if Frodo came to Gondor when the quest was over. He remembered how good it felt to be in the man’s arms, how tender and gentle he was. Truth be told, a part of him had -wanted- to stay in Gondor and give up the ring. That part of him now almost wished that he had.
Eowyn relented upon the food issue, tucking the blanket around him a bit firmer, and her eyes saddened. She reached up to stroke his curls gently, pulling the thick black locks away from his troubled eyes. They were filled now, with fear and more than a little loneliness. The fear she could understand, he worried for Faramir, the other…how could he be lonely when he had Aragorn at his side constantly?
Frodo closed his eyes, pretending to fall back to sleep under her attention, smiling vaguely as he did so. It wasn’t that he didn’t -like- Eowyn, but she did not understand. He and Aragorn had only been lovers once, and that was in Lorien, after Gandalf had died. He had mistaken Aragorn’s feelings for love, but realized after a while that though the man cared a great deal for him, he did not love him. The Ranger had been far more content with healing the hobbit than making love to him, though the process of being loved by Strider had released a lot of pent up emotion for them both. The experience had been volatile, passion had taken over sense. In the end, it helped Frodo deal with the idea of parting from the fellowship. Now, Aragorn sought mainly to slowly bring him back by careful, soothing touches and he loved Strider for it. Yet, he did not -love- the King to be.
Faramir on the other hand, the brief time he’d spent with the Prince of Gondor had solidified into something far more real. He had not been able to stop thinking about the man throughout his entire journey with Sam. Boromir’s brother had been everything Boromir had not been. Sensitive and gentle, witspirspirit that soared high, yet had a tendency to hide behind the clouds. He longed for Faramir’s arms to be wrapped around him, for his hands to be touching him, and most of all for his lips to be caressing him. It was good to dream, and he was very tired now.
****
Faramir woke slowly that morning. A familiar scent rose in his nostrils along with another, unfamiliar one. He was wrapped in a pair of fair skinned arms, held tightly. His head was resting against the other’s shoulder. He touched the skin of the arms that held him, curiously. Soft…soft as the petals of a rose. Then he slid his fingers up to glide through the most beautiful blonde hair he’d ever seen. It too, was soft and fine as silk. His eyes drifted up the fine long neck to the slender face, noting the pointed ears. It took his breath away, the visage that greeted him. Legolas felt the young man stir in his arms and looked to Faramir with a smile. “Good morning.” he said gently. “Are you feeling better?”
How could he not be? What was the problem again? Faramir’s thoughts were far too focused on the elf in his brother’s bed than anything else. He smiled a little stupidly as his hair fell in his overly bright eyes. “I…uh…” he stammered, quite at a loss for words.
Legolas chuckled gently, knowing the young man was confounded at the moment, but he would soon collect himself. He was quite beautiful in the morning, the elf mused. Vibrant, would be the word. His fever had eased, having slept so close to an elf for the night. Still, his wounds would need tending to, and Legolas meant to be certain to make Faramir see a healer. “You slept soundly.” he approved softly.
He felt so young under that eternal gaze. For once, he did not feel any pain, possibly because he hadn’t really moved yet. He wasn’t sure that he -wanted- to move, feeling quite content in this position. Gods, what a vision. Such perfection was rare in this world. He blushed, a soft pink tinting his cheeks as he lowered his gaze. “Yes, yes I did.” Then, the smile on his lips vanished as he began to remember why he was here in the first place. It was morning now, and he would not be able to sneak away so easily. He’d let the elf cajole him into remaining. “But…I must get up now. Thank-you.” The earnest words spoken, the young man struggled into a sitting position, easing himself out of the elf’s arms, despite the fact that he whe wanted to do was remain there. He experienced a bit of vertigo as he rose quickly, and steadied himself. The elf instantly placed a hand on his shoulder, without speaking a word, to relax him.
“I think you’d best remain here and rest.” Legolas spoke gently, meeting the young man with a stern gaze that would listen to no argument. He slipped off the bed and straightened his clothes and hair. Within a few moments, the elf managed to appear as if he had not slept the entire night in his clothes. Faramir grumbled, but complied, lying back down in the bed in spite of his deteriorating mood. “Rest here for a moment, I will return shortly. If you are not here when I return, I will find you, Prince of Gondor. Rest assured about that.”
Faramir had every intention of leaving Boromir’s room just then, but at the elwordwords, he realized that he was cornered. He would have been very unhappy about it, but…for some reason, being cornered by Legolas wasn’t entirely a bad thing. At least he was somewhere quiet and peaceful. He was also somewhere where his father could not get to him, in life or death. He scowled slightly, but nodded as the elf left the room.
***
Eowyn walked out of Frodo’s room just as Legolas left Boromir’s room. She paused, smiling at the Prince lightly. “Good morning, Legolas.” She did not question what he was doing in Boromir’s room, for she did not even know that it belonged to the other, or who in fact, he was. Her expression indicated the morning was not entirely a good one, but she smiled nonetheless.
“Lady Eowyn.” he gave a slight smile, the door to Aragorn’s chambers were open, and neither the Prince nor Eowyn knew that a certain hobbit had risen from his bed intending on searching for his lover despite his promise not to. “Is Aragorn well?”
“He is, he has been out this night searching for Prince Faramir, who has gone missing. I was just with Frodo, he is not doing very well this morning, unfortunately.” Eowyn said softly.
“Searching for Faramir?” The elf rubbed the back of his head, “Oh…He’s in there.” he indicated the room he just emerged from. “We ran across each other last night.”
Eowyn’s eyebrows opened wide, “Is he alright?”
“He is fine, just a little worn out and he is in need of a healer, though he will not admit it himself. I was just going to fetch one.” Legolas explained.
Eowyn eyed the doorway, unsure if Faramir would want her to come in just then, and then she remembered Aragorn. “Oh dear, I have to find Aragorn, and let him know.” With that, they both went in the opposite direction, sure in the knowledge that their charges were resting soundly.
Frodo waited cautiously until they were out of site. His eyes focused then on the door Legolas had mentioned. Faramir was so close, had been so close all night. Trembling a little, he walked towards the door, dressed loosely in a cream colored shirt and brown pants that he’d thrown on just then. He only let his hand rest on the doorknob for a few moments, before he opened it and snuck a peak inside.
He caught his breath. Faramir -was- there. He really was! His back turned to the doorway, he was resting upon his brother’s bed. Several emotions went through the hobbit then, but he let the first take charge. Within a moment he was at the side of the bed and very nearly pounced on the yoman man who started in surprise, and some fear as the hobbit began to cover him with kisses.
**TBC**