Minas Tirith - Legacy of the Ring Bearer

Fic Name: Minas Tirith - Legacy of the Ring Bearer.
Chapter Name: Honor Thy Brother.
Pairing: Faramir/Boromir, Faramir/Frodo, Faramir/Aragorn, Aragorn/Frodo,
Rating: NC17
Beta: HEL! Thank-you.:)
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.
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.
ARCHIVE: Yes, but please let me know.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Sorry it took so long, hope this makes up for it. I’ve been very busy and had a power outage esdaesday night. Got backed up on a lot of things

CHAPTER EIGHT “Honor Thy Brother.”

Faramir was so stunned by the hobbit’s sudden arrival that he was at a loss for words. Faramir could not help but return the sweet kisses. Frodo straddled him, practically pinning him to the bed, gazing down at him as the morning light streamed in. The hobbit’s fingers tangled in his lover’s hair, drifting down to his cheek and then caressing lightly, gazing into the man’s eyes. He responded by letting both of his hands rest upon the hobbit’s waist, looking up at Frodo, but unable to say a word.

“Oh, Faramir.” Frodo’s lips trembled as he stared at the man. “I never thought I would see you again,” he said honestly, his fingers moving down to Faramir’s lips, tracing them. His wounded hand clutched at the man’s shirt, noticeably not attempting to use it.

Faramir finally found his voice, “Frodo.” he shifted so that the hobbit was not sitting on his stomach, but lower. Tears pooled in eyeseyes, though he fought them away. This was the moment he’d been dreading ever since they parted. The moment of truth. He looked at the hobbit, confusion clear in his mind when he saw what seemed to be more than just lust. Could it really be? Could he trust it? Did he dare to trust his feelings again? The last time he had…the one he loved left him, dying far away from home.

There was desire still there, he could feel the attraction between them build with each continued close moment. He had felt it though, when they had first met and when they had made love. Deep within he wanted it again, he needed it…those eager soft touches, sweet kisses and gentle strokes. Frodo had managed to make him forget everything then, and he wondered if the hobbit could do it again now.

“Why are you here…and not at the healing house?” Frodo asked, knowing that the man -was- wounded, and shifting off of him to curl up at his side, gazing hopefully at him. So far, there hadn’t been much of a reaction from Faramir. He hadn’t even spoken much more than his name. “They told me you were gravely wounded. Strider would not let me get up yet to go see you. He was going to take me later today. Faramir…you’re still hurt. I heard Legolas say so.” His fingers played in the man’s hair, nervously. He did not like the fact that the young man wasn’t saying anything. He knew something was wrong.

“I’m fine.” Faramir shook his head. “Really, I’m fine. Just tired, is all.” he smiled faintly, his hand stroking Frodo’s back. “I was tired of being poked and prodded,” he explained lamely.

“And that’s it…?” Frodo lifted his head to look at the man again, his eyes shimmering. He spoke in a very small voice, worry edging it. “That’s all you have to say to me? I thought…” What did he think really? They had shared one or two nights, and made foolish promises in dark times. Frodo looked away, “I’m sorry, I…I’m sorry to be a bother…”

“No!” The man sat up and prevented the hobbit from scurrying off the bed. “No, that’s not it. It’s me who is sorry. I was just surprised to see you in here, please, don’t go.” he trembled slightly, trying not to hold the hobbit’s arm too tightly with his hand, remembering how easily Frodo bruised.

“Faramir.” Frodo remained, sitting on his knees as he looked at the man. “This wasn’t exactly the reaction I was hoping for,” he said gently. “What is wrong? What have I done?”

It was just like Frodo to believe that he was the problem, that it had been something -he- had done. Faramir almost laughed, for in this case, it was true, even though it was not funny. “Frodo. Its nothing that you have done.”

“But…but you.” he sighed and buried his head back down into the crook of the man’s arm so that Faramir would not see the tears welling in his eyes. It was silly, feeling like he was about to cry, he had wanted…he had been so tied up inside anticipating seeing Faramir again. Had it really just been sex? “You regret it, what happened, don’t you. You wish you had told me no. You miss Boromir.” Miserably the hobbit gave a little sniffle, unable to compete with such a thing, his fingers clenched at Faramir’s shirt. “That’s why you’re here, in his room. I’ll…I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want. Its alright.” he babbled, rising again and looking away. “I understand.”

“Yes, I miss my brother.” Faramir said softly, looking away from Frodo as he did so for it hurt to say the words. He could not honestly say that he did not regret what had happened, because now, now he was forced to deal with an impossible situation. “I’m glad that you survived, Frodo, and that you are here.” he said softly, “Its just that we never really had much time when you were in Ithilien, not much time at all to talk or…anything. I do not know what is between us, I still do not know. You hardly even know me, Frodo.”

“I knew what I was doing, and I knew you, or at least I thought I did!” the hobbit looked back at the man suddenly then, his eyes dark as he glared at the man, his temper flaring. “I do not know what you thought, but I do NOT sleep with just anyone like-” his wounded hand flew to his mouth to stop the word before it came out.

“Like me.” Faramir finished the sentence for him and sighed, leaning into his pillow. The words, though painful, were true. He -had- let others use his body, Frodo was right. He had let the hobbit take him, without question, or resistance. He laughed bitterly, “Its alright, Frodo. I know what I am, and what I have done. I do not hold you to me.” The young man steeled his heart, he had brought this on himself, and he did not deserve happiness. Frodo had Strider, and he … he was leaving Gondor. There was too much pain here, too many memories. How could he bear a … a child here?

What Frodo might have responded was lost forever, for at that moment the door to the chamber was pushed open, and Aragorn‘s voice loudly penetrated the room. “Faramir! Do you know how many people were out looking for---?” his mouth opened when he saw Frodo. Eowyn was standing just behind the ranger as his hand tightened on the doorknob of Boromir’s room. Anger flashed in his eyes, but not at Faramir, nor at Frodo and Faramir. More at the resources and time that had been wasted while people had been out looking for the young man.

Faramir did not see this, he only saw anger directed at him and he shrank back from it. Perhaps Aragorn might have seen the fear, for his expression lightened as he strode in the room. Frodo did not move from where he was, kneeling now beside the man. He was barely fighting back tears, and was relieved that Strider had come in just then for he did not know how to deal with Faramir’s depression. “I am sorry, my lord.” Faramir replied meekly, looking away, pulling his hand away from Frodo and folding his arms across his chest. “It won’t happen again.”

“You are certainly correct about that! Eowyn, have guards positioned at either side of this door, and by the window below. Give them instructions on my word that if Captain Faramir attempts to leave they are to subdue him by any means possible. Frodo, you should be resting. You are not fully healed.” He did his best to keep his voice steady, but he was tired and cranky. He had just spent six hours scouring Minas Tirith for the young man currently lying in bed with the Ringbearer! Eowyn easily went to carry out his order.

Frodo made his way off of the man’s bed, not looking back at Faramir as he stood up. He looked up at Strider, “Don’t be too hard on him,” he said softly. Sighing, Frodo glanced back at the man, hoping to see something…anything in Faramir’s eyes.

But Faramir had shut down his feelings. He did not meet Frodo’s eyes, or Aragorn’s, instead he closed them as if willing everyone and everything away. “I understand. I won’t go anywhere,” he mumbled.

Frodo bit back a sob, and turned to leave the room, “I am very tired, I think I‘m going to lie down now.” he managed, before he left, leaving Aragorn alone in the room with Faramir.

The King to be clenched his fist, hearing the pain in Frodo’s voice. What had Faramir done? Once Frodo was gone, he closed the door and stalked the bed, reaching down to grasp Faramir’s shirt and lift the young man up so that their faces were very close, anger flaring in his own eyes. “If you hurt Frodo, do not think I will not notice,” he said, the threat clear in his tone as he forced Faramir to hold his eyes.

What surprised him was the fact that there was no resistance to his ‘attack’. Faramir looked at him, as if expecting a blow to come, and yet, he did not flinch or cower from it.

“The only reason I do not pound you into the ground right now is because you are Boromir’s brother.” he said fiercely. “I understand what you have been through, but you have to pull yourself together.” he let the other man go roughly, flinging him back on the pillows. “We have all suffered in this war, Faramir. Every one of us. Do you know what your brother’s last words were to me? He begged me not to let the White City Fall, and then he begged me to find you and take care of you. As though he knew you would run from the city at the first opportunity. Is that how you honor your brother’s memory? Running like a coward?” Aragorn naturally knew nothing of what the young man had really been through, nor that he was pregnant. “Your brother spoke highly of you, he said to me that you had courage, more courage than he did. He made me wish to meet you, and to know you. All I see before me now is a beaten man, a man who refuses to rise from the ashes and be what he could be. Where is that man, Faramir? I knew Boromir well enough to know that he did not make you up. “

There was a reason that Aragorn was attempting to goad the young man. He knew Faramir was holding back. The young man -needed- to release it before he could deal with it. He stepped back from the bed as Faramir rose, anger flashing in his bright blue eyes, he had had enough. Only his father would he ever suffer to hear call him a coward to his face.

Aragorn continued to taunt him, pleased by the reaction so far, at least the young man was rising. “I need a Steward of Gondor, Faramir. But a weakling, a coward and a fool, I will not have at my side.”

His clenched fist connected with the ranger’s jaw at those last words, causing blood to trickle from Aragorn’s lips. The blow was not the last to come, and soon they were locked fiercely in fisticuffs. For the most part, the elder man let Faramir take it out on him, accepting blow after blow. Chairs were knocked over, and loud crashes resulted from heavy shoves. He did defend himself, catching Faramir across the jaw once or twice, and throwing him against the wall. The scuffle was only ended when Eowyn’s voice came as Aragorn was straddling the young man, both of his hands holding each fist as they struggled for dominance.

“No! Aragorn. Please, stop this at once!” Her voice laced with fear as she saw the men struggling. “Faramir is in no condition … Get off of him, now! He is pregnant.”

Aragorn glanced at the shield maiden, shock clear in his expression. Faramir used that opportunity to pull one hand free and sling a clear shot at his stunned opponent.

**TBC**