Posted: March 2004
Title: Second Born
Series: Second Born
Author: Khylea
Type: FCS
Characters: Celeborn/Faramir
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, no profit is being made, yada yada yada. We all know the drill by now, right?
Timeline: About ten years before the War of the Ring, so Faramir is about 25, Celeborn....um....just slightly younger than dirt itself. LOL
Beta: Manon (thanks hon!)
Dedication: For Anais, who keeps me writing. :)
Author's Notes: Inspired by the lovely pics of Marton Csokas in the short film "Twilight of the Gods". These pics inspired my Celeborn muse to kick me in the arse and demand I write a smutty story. Why he chose Faramir, I am unsure, but perhaps he also cried at the "You wish now that our places had been exchanged, that I had died and Boromir had lived." scene Faramir had in ROTK. I had been wanting to write a hurt/comfort story with Faramir ever since I first saw ROTK. I guess my Celeborn muse heard me. And no, I don't really know if Celeborn's explanation for the two trees is why elves glow. I just made something up that sounded reasonable. (Assuming you have read others of my stories, you know that "I made something up that sounded reasonable" is something I do quite often. LOL)

Summary: Two travelers seek shelter from the storm. Pretty much PWP, though there is some hurt/comfort action goin' on too. :)

*****

Faramir shivered, pulling his cloak more tightly about his shoulders, shivering again when, in spite of his efforts, a rivulet of cold rain ran down the back of his neck. He glanced up at the sky, jumping in surprise when a bolt of lightning split the air, followed only a moment later by a deep rumble of thunder. Realizing the storm was growing closer and stronger by the moment, he abandoned his plan of returning to the room he had rented at the other side of town and began looking for shelter someplace closer.

He stumbled along the muddy street, attempting to peer through the driving rain, but every building he passed was locked down tight, the shutters over the windows drawn closed against the storm. He passed no one, smiling humorlessly at his predicament. *Apparently I'm the only one dumb enough to get caught out in this storm,* he thought darkly to himself.

Finally, he heard a door slam and blinked the water from his eyes, seeing at the far end of the street a building which looked like an inn of some kind, a candle burning in the window. Heading that way, he was nearly blown off his feet when a gust of wind swept down the street. Another gust of wind pushed him backwards and he groaned when he stepped into a large mud puddle, soaking his left foot clear to the knee.

After several more missteps, he finally reached the inn. Shaking off what water he could from his drenched cloak, he swung the door open, immediately being assailed by the smell of stale smoke, spilled beverages, and far too many people crammed into too small a room. Pushing aside his disgust at the smell, he stepped up to the counter and laid a few coins on the wood.

"What can I get for ya, traveler?" A large man in an apron that may once have been white looked up from where he was drying a glass, setting down the glass and moving to stand opposite Faramir.

Faramir glanced over the stock of ales, the names unfamiliar to him. "A mug of your house brew, if you please," he said, weary of drawing attention to himself by ordering something the inn did not stock. The bartender looked slightly taken aback at the display of politeness, but shrugged. A customer was a customer. He poured a glass of strong smelling ale and set it in front of Faramir. Without another word, he chose a few coins from the several Faramir had placed on the counter and turned back to his work. Faramir picked up the mug and his change and glanced around, trying to find a place to sit and sip his drink. Another flash of lightning lit up the front window and he sighed, resigned to a long wait. He would have rather returned to his own room to sleep, but was unwilling to chance any more time out in the storm than was necessary.

Most of the tables were filled with loud men who had clearly had too much to drink, making rather blatant innuendos to the serving wenches. Faramir wrinkled his lip at the display, liking neither the men making the innuendos nor the women who seemed to be enjoying them. He could feel eyes on him as he made his way to the back of the inn, and resisted the urge to see who was staring at him. A relatively attractive young woman spied him alone and meandered his way. He attempted to sidestep her with a polite apology but she matched his movement. He fought down the disgusted _expression that tried to make its way to his face as he glanced at her appearance. The top of her dress was far too tight, her breasts pushing aggressively against the lacings holding them in the fabric, nearly spilling out the top. Her face, though reasonably attractive, was covered with far too much makeup, her hair, though curled into attractive twists, appeared greasy and dirty.

"You alone tonight, honey?" she purred, trailing her hand down his chest, tracing the stitching of the white tree on his leather breastplate. He nodded, attempting to move around her, but she again moved to match his steps. "Don't get many Gondorian soldiers around here. You come lookin' for company, love?"

Faramir was growing more flustered by the moment at the audacity of this woman. Though he thought she might be attractive with a bath and a little less color on her face, it was obvious what she was, and he had no desire to warm his bed with that kind of company. "I'm sorry, I'm just looking for a place to get out of the rain. If you will excuse me please...."

She draped her arms over his shoulders, moving closer and pressing her body against his. "My room's out of the rain, and much more private than here. What do you say, soldier? How about some company?"

"No, thank you. Really, I would much prefer to be alone."

She put her hands on her hips and stuck out her bottom lip, looking like nothing so much as a young child who has just been denied a wish. "Well fine then," she snapped, turning her back on him. "Probably couldn't have performed anyway," she muttered as she moved away.

Faramir took a deep sigh of relief and continued his perusal of the inn. Finally, in a back corner, he found a table that appeared empty. But as he moved closer, he could see the table held a single occupant, a tall man dressed not unlike himself, with a dark colored robe pulled far over his face. The man seemed almost to blend into the shadows, and Faramir wondered how a man so tall could be almost unseen. He glanced around, not wanting to disturb the stranger, but the table in the corner was the only one not filled by half-drunk, leering men.

"Excuse me, sir," Faramir said, as politely as he could. "May I join you? All the other tables appear to be full." The man nodded, moving his chair further into the corner, giving Faramir some room to pull a chair up to the table. "Thank you, friend." The man nodded again, and Faramir lowered himself onto the chair, setting his drink on the table. He pushed his hood back, running his hands through his drenched hair, pushing it back off his forehead. The other man's gaze turned toward him, and had Faramir looked closely, he would have seen a faint smile on his lips. He took a sip of his ale, grimacing at the taste. He had always found house ales to be strong, cheap, and plentiful. But the ale hadn't been the reason for coming to the inn. The shelter from the storm had been, and needless to say, proprietors were far less likely to remove a patron who had purchased a drink.

For many moments nothing was said, though Faramir did wonder vaguely why the hooded stranger continued to peer out into the room as if he was looking for something. Also strange was why he, though he had no drink in front of him, had not been cast out into the rain. After a while, a serving wench approached their table, offering to bring Faramir a refill, which he politely declined, but paying no mind to the hooded man next to him. Faramir grew more and more curious as customers passed by his table, a few glancing or politely nodding at him, but completely ignoring the other man. It was as if they did not even see him.

Faramir glanced over at the hooded man again, shaking his head in confusion. Though his dark cloak blended in well with the shadows, he was far from invisible, and Faramir wondered what the man had said or done to cause everyone to ignore him so completely. He began to grow nervous, and was about to move to another table when a pale hand appeared from the sleeve of the man's cloak, resting on top of Faramir's on the table and gently squeezing. "Peace, Faramir, son of Denethor. I mean you no harm."

Faramir started, trying to look into the hood, but unable to see any more than a nose. "How do you know my name?"

"I know many things, Son of Gondor. The least of which is your name." Faramir stared at the soft voice, laced with underlying power and confidence. The hooded man reminded him of how his father spoke, as one used to being obeyed, but without the underlying cruel tones that Denethor often took with his youngest. "Was your visit productive?"

"Productive?" Faramir asked cautiously, weary of revealing too much to this stranger.

"Did you secure a good price for the horses?"

"How....how did you know I was here to purchase horses?" Faramir blurted out. "How do you know my name? Who are you?"

The stranger laid his hand on Faramir's again. "Peace, friend. There is no reason to be alarmed." He removed his hand and adjusted his position on the chair before speaking again. "Several of my people's horses were stolen a few weeks ago. We received a report that there was to be a sale of horses conducted today and I came to see if any of the offered horses were the ones who had been stolen. I saw you at the sale."

"Stolen? The Rohirrim would never offer stolen horses for sale."

"Not knowingly, no. But even the most knowledgeable horsemen can be deceived by a competent horse thief."

"So were any of the horses yours?"

"Sadly, no." He sighed. "Possibly they had already been sold by the time I arrived, or were never here to begin with. It appears I will be returning empty handed, which pains me greatly. They were quality horses. It will not be easy to replace them." He shifted the hood on his face, and glanced at Faramir again. "But you never answered my question. Did you secure a good price for the horses?"

Faramir took a small sip of the bitter tasting ale and nodded. "Yes. With the money I had available, I had expected to purchase about twenty horses, but was able to purchase twenty five." He took another drink, feeling the ale burn all the way down to his stomach. "Not that father will be pleased," he muttered into his mug. "If Boromir had come, he would have found at least thirty for the same price."

"Why do you compare yourself to your brother?" the stranger asked.

Faramir glanced at the hooded man, not surprised he knew Boromir was his brother. This man seemed to know more about Gondor than most others, and he assumed the other must be a traveler. "Because my father can do nothing but. Anything I do, Boromir can do better. If I kill ten Orcs single handed, Boromir could have killed twenty. If I ride hard and make a three day journey in two, Boromir could have done it in one and a half." He took another long swallow of his ale, glaring at the hooded stranger. "We were both given our titles of Captain at age twenty, as is traditional, and four days later, Boromir was sent out in command of a company of a hundred warriors." He wiped away a drip of water from his cheek and grasped the handle of his mug tighter.

When he did not continue, the stranger spoke again. "And your commands have been fewer?"

"I will celebrate my twenty-fifth birthday in a few months and I have yet to lead even a single man to battle," Faramir said softly. "Instead I am sent on errands such as this. Errands any stable hand could complete."

"The strength of an army is in its horses, son of Denethor. This is hardly an unimportant errand," the stranger said quietly, and Faramir looked up, feeling his tension drain away at the gentle tone of the other.

"Who are you, sir?" he finally asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. The stranger looked at him for a moment before pushing his hood back off his head, revealing long silver hair, pulled into a long braid at the back of his head, deep blue eyes, and sharply pointing ears. "An....an elf? Here?"

The elf inclined his head at Faramir's question before quickly pulling the hood back up to hide his features. "For the moment, it is better if my identity is not revealed, son of Gondor. I am a long way from my home, and there are many among your kind who do not look kindly upon elves."

Faramir nodded with understanding. He had heard the stories of elves who had happened upon a group of prejudiced humans, and seldom emerged from the experience unscathed. "Your secret is safe with me, Master Elf." The elf nodded.

"I know. Even in Lórien, we have heard of the unflagging honor of the sons of Denethor. I knew you would not reveal my secret."


"You....you are from Lorien? And have heard of me?" Faramir was astonished. Lórien was many leagues from Gondor, and the Galadhrim seldom ventured even into Rohan. How could this stranger have heard of him?


The elf smiled. "We are not the isolationists your people think us to be, Lord Faramir. We often visit your realms, but since our presence is seldom welcomed, we do it carefully, and with stealth."


"Still, I do not think it is a good idea for you to be so far from your home, and alone at that."


"What makes you think I am alone? I said we travel with stealth. Several of my people are watching this room from other corners. It is no more difficult a task to hide in a city of men than in the forests of my home." Faramir nodded, remembering how this elf had seemed to blend into the shadows, almost to the point of being invisible, even when only a few feet away.


Taking another sip of his ale, Faramir glanced around the room, but though he did not doubt the words of the elf, he could see no evidence of other elves.


The storm continued to rage outside while the two sat side by side, not speaking. Faramir continued slowly downing the bitter ale, mouthful by mouthful, politely refusing the offers of a refill. An hour passed, then two, and still the elf next to him had said nothing further. He had not revealed his purposes, but Faramir suspected he was listening to the conversations around them, hoping to catch a bit of talk about whether the stolen horses had ever been there. Though his companion was quiet, Faramir found he enjoyed the company, so much different from the loud, boisterous men of his own kind. And the brief glimpse he had seen of the stranger's face had revealed deep, mysterious eyes, pale, smooth skin, and Faramir could not deny the beauty of the elf.


A large group of men burst through the door, shaking the water from their cloaks, soaking the patrons at the table nearest the door. One of them stood to complain, but was silenced by the look on the tallest man's face. The group all collected mugs of ale from the counter and headed into the back of the inn, sneering at those who moved out of their way. "You there!" The leader called to Faramir. "My men are weary and need a place to rest. Move to another table!" Faramir glanced to his side where the elf was slowly standing, his eyes never leaving the leader of the group. Faramir's hand moved slowly toward his sword, unwilling to fight over a table, but willing to defend himself if the leader pushed him.


The elf shook his head, pushing Faramir's hand away from his sword. "Come. No need for that. We can find another place to wait out the storm." His voice dropped to a whisper, his next words for Faramir's ears only. "I will not find the information I need here tonight." He led the way to a stairway at the opposite back corner of the inn, ignoring the lewd comments made by the group of men who had commandeered his table. Faramir drained the last of his ale and followed, unsure where he was being led, but trusting the elf with a strange sort of feeling he could not explain.


The elf climbed the stairs and walked quickly down the hallway to a room at the far end. Holding the door open, he motioned Faramir inside before entering himself, closing and bolting the door behind them. He motioned Faramir to an empty chair near the fireplace. "You are free to stay as long as you would like. Warm yourself by the fire if you wish." Faramir stood just inside the door, not moving, unsure what the elf wanted. "Come, Faramir. Warm yourself."


"What do you want with me?" he finally blurted out, fingering the pommel of his sword.


The elf turned toward him and slipped out of his robe, hanging it over the back of a chair. "Want with you? Are all humans so weary of others or is it just you? Can you not understand a simple kindness done for a fellow traveler?" He moved closer, and Faramir found himself staring at the smooth skin of the elf's face. "I had a room at the inn, you did not." He lifted a hand, cupping Faramir's cheek. "If our situations were reversed, would you turn me out into the storm?"


Faramir gasped at the feeling of the elf's soft hand touching his skin, and pulled away, his cheeks flushing in shame. "No, I would not. Forgive me, Master Elf. I meant no disrespect."


The elf chuckled softly. "So polite. So unlike your brother."


Faramir turned, staring into deep blue eyes. "You know my brother?" The elf nodded, stepping closer.


"Several years ago, I was here with some of my people purchasing broodmares for our herd. On our return trip to Lórien, a storm hit with unexpected ferocity and my horse panicked, running away with me on his back, finally unseating me when he had left the rest of my group far behind. Your brother happened upon me, found us a shelter and tended my wounds." He again reached to touch Faramir's face. "You need not fear me, Lord Faramir, for you see, I am only repaying the kindness your brother showed to me."


Faramir nodded, remembering the story his brother had told of a day when he was just barely out of his teens, finding an injured elf in Rohan and giving him shelter for the night. He found it strange that all these years later he would happen upon the same elf, giving him a chance to repay the kindness that had been shown to him.


"Now come, warm yourself by the fire. I can see you are cold." Faramir nodded, removing his cloak, leather tunic, and boots, unbuckling his sword and leaning it by the fire. The elf draped a warm, dry blanket around his shoulders and he hunched closer to the fire with a quiet thanks. The elf pulled up a chair next to him, and for several minutes, nothing further was said.


Faramir continued to glance out of the corner of his eye at the elf, slightly amazed at the beauty of him. Though he wore rough homespun of browns and greens, he carried himself with an air of dignity, almost royalty, and Faramir suspected these were not his usual garments. He wondered if the other was a lord or leader of some type. The elf's hands were large, his fingers long, and Faramir suddenly found himself wondering how those hands would feel stroking his naked body. Flushing in shame, he tore his gaze away, staring deeply into the flames.


The elf moved off, and when he returned, pressed a mug into Faramir's hand. "I believe you will find elven wine more to your liking." Faramir took a small sip, the sweet taste of the wine like honey in his mouth after the bitter house ale. It was a berry wine of some type, but the taste was unfamiliar, and he decided it must be a berry native to Lórien.


The elf removed his boots and sat next to Faramir, slowly sipping his own wine, gazing into the flames. Finally he spoke. "Did you know fire was the elves' gift to men?" Faramir turned to glance at him, shaking his head. "Why Ilúvatar created men to be unable to withstand cold, no one knows. But shortly after men were awakened, so long ago the histories have all but forgotten the names, a traveling elf happened upon a newly awakened man in the forest. The man was cold, naked and shivering, and the elf found some wood, taught the man how to build a fire, how to warm his body even when the air was cold."

Faramir met the eyes of the elf, not speaking, feeling slightly overwhelmed next to the beauty of the creature next to him. Finally he found his tongue. "And what did man give the elves in return for that mighty gift?" he whispered.

The elf smiled warmly, reaching over to take Faramir's free hand, gently squeezing. "To appreciate each day. To live each day as if it were your last, for one day it will be." He brought Faramir's hand to his lips and gently kissed the back. "To not let go of an opportunity that is presented."

"Is that what this is to you, an opportunity?" Faramir asked, not pulling his hand away.


"Only if you wish it to be, son of Gondor," he whispered, turning Faramir's hand over and kissing the palm. "If you wish nothing more than a dry place to wait out the storm, it will be nothing more than a dry place to wait out the storm. But if you wish it to be more, it will be more."

"What more are you offering?" Faramir whispered, entranced by the gentle touches of the elf.

Without another word, the elf reached for Faramir's mug and set both down on the floor. Standing in front of Faramir, he grasped the man's arms, gently lifting him to his feet. Faramir shivered slightly at the sensation of the powerful hands ever so gently grasping his arms, and looked up into the face of the elf before him. Leaning forward, he brushed his lips softly against Faramir's. "I believe you know exactly what I am offering, Lord Faramir," he whispered against the man's lips, pulling away slightly to look into his eyes. "But whether you will allow it for yourself is the question." His hands gently pulled Faramir closer, then moved higher, stroking his still damp hair. "Do you think me blind? I watched you; I saw how you looked at me. You find me attractive, you wish for more than a touch, but you wonder if a man such as yourself could be attractive to an elf."

Faramir stared open mouthed at the elf, feeling his cheeks flush at how the other seemed to know more about him than he had even been aware he was revealing. The elf leaned forward again, lowering his mouth to Faramir's and gently nipping on his top lip. "The answer is yes, Faramir. I do find you attractive. I have seen into your soul, I have seen the beauty that dwells there. Beauty and kindness nearly driven away by the agony at being unable to please a father; at desperately trying to win the favor of a man who will always think of your older brother first." He bent lower, laying soft kisses on Faramir's neck, and the man moaned softly under the gentle touches. "I would ease your torment for a night, if I may. Let me touch you, son of Gondor. Let yourself experience one activity in which there is no one to compare you to your brother, in which your father need not judge you."

Faramir suddenly began to shake in nervousness, turning his head away from the elf and swallowing hard several times. His companion gently turned Faramir's head to face him again. "What is it? Do I make you apprehensive?"

"A....a little. You are so....so beautiful," Faramir whispered, feeling heat rush to his cheeks at his admission. "But it is more....what you are offering."

"You have never been with a male before?"

Faramir's cheeks flushed even redder, but he managed a shake of his head. "Or a female. I never seem to know what to say, how to approach one. The few I do manage to approach lose interest when they discover I find no joy in being a soldier. When I tell them I would rather pursue literature or music." He blinked rapidly several times, the tears pressing against his eyes. "I love my brother. He has been the one bright spot in my life, the one who keeps our father from becoming too intolerable toward me."

"But you are envious of him as well," the elf finished quietly, brushing a lock of hair back off Faramir's face, tucking it behind his ear.

Faramir nodded. "It is not only father who favors him; it is everyone around us as well. The kitchen servants make special treats for him, but not for me. The stable hands tell him when his horse is off its feed; mine is left to go hungry. We go to parties together and he has several women clamoring for his attention while I go unnoticed." He took a deep breath, dipping his chin and reaching a hand up, tracing the stitching on the front of the elf's tunic. "Once I heard father introduce him to some dignitary from Rohan. He said 'my son, Boromir'. Not 'my oldest son, Boromir', or 'my successor, Boromir', but 'my son Boromir'. It was as if I did not even exist in his mind, though I was but a few steps away." The elf listened quietly to Faramir's words, nodding sadly, one hand around his back, providing a steadying support. "I sometimes wonder if anyone would even notice if I just disappeared. It seems my presence is hardly needed in this world. Boromir will succeed father as steward, and what am I then?"

He finally looked up at his companion, unsure why he felt the need to burden the elf with all his troubles. But the other listened to him like no one had in many years, listened without judging, without criticizing, with a gentle, supportive touch that Faramir found soothing. Finally he spoke. "Ilúvatar does not create a life without purpose, Lord Faramir. If you were born on this earth, you have a purpose in life. You have a great task to accomplish that no one else, not even your brother, could accomplish."

"What task?"

"That I do not know. He does not reveal His reasons to anyone, not even elves. Perhaps He feels if we were to know what our purpose in life is, we would spend all our time in pursuit of it, not allowing ourselves to experience any joy, any pleasure from life." He reached up to brush his fingertips across Faramir's cheek. "I was surely not put here to be a musician, yet playing my flute gives me more pleasure than anything else in my life. Finding our purpose in life is a difficult task, but one which gives infinite rewards once accomplished."

"But how do I discover what my task is?"

"By staying true to what you believe in, what you love. You said you derive no pleasure from being a soldier, that you would rather pursue literature or music."

"But I cannot. I took an oath to Gondor, to defend her in her time of need. I cannot go back on that oath to pursue my own selfish interests."

The elf smiled slightly at how Faramir was finally developing enough confidence in himself to interrupt. "I was not going to suggest abandoning your oath; only that perhaps you should develop your other interests when your duties as a soldier do not occupy your time. Surely Gondor does not expect her soldiers to defend her every moment of every day?"

"No, I have free time."

"Which you spend going to gatherings you do not enjoy. Would it not make more sense to occupy your time with interests you enjoy? If you do not enjoy parties, go to them only when necessary. Spend your free time pursuing what you do enjoy." He lifted his hands, gently cupping Faramir's face. "You do not always have to think of others, Faramir. You are allowed to enjoy your own life. No one should live for the satisfaction of another."


"But father...."

"Your father does not own you. When you are a soldier, he is your commander and you are expected to follow his directives. But when you are not, you have the right to pursue your life in the way that pleases you. No one has the right to live your life for you. Not your father, not your brother, no one." He brushed his fingers lightly across Faramir's lips. "No one, Faramir. Your life is yours. Your decisions are yours."

Faramir stared into deep blue eyes for a long moment before speaking. "Who are you, sir? I must know."

"Does it matter? I am someone who believes in you as you cannot believe in yourself." He gently kissed the man again. "And someone who desires you. What does my identity matter?"

"I....I would like to have a name to call you."

The elf hesitated for a long moment before finally nodding. "Call me Mellon."

"Friend," Faramir said with a smile, causing the elf to smile as well.

"You know some elvish?"

"A little. Mithrandir taught me some." He grew quiet and fidgeted for a while before looking up again, meeting the gaze of his companion. "You....you truly wish to be with me?"

"Elves do not tell untruths, Faramir. I said I wished to be with you, and I do."

"But....I....I do not know how to pleasure another. I fear you would be disappointed in me."

"Dear Faramir, I could never be disappointed in you." He pulled Faramir closer, running his fingertips up and down his spine. "Perhaps everyone else compares you to your brother, but I shall not. I could not, for I did not share this with your brother."

"I thought....everyone always finds him more attractive than me, I thought you would have...."

The elf nodded. "He is beautiful, as are you. But though he treated my wounds, gave me shelter, I sensed a darkness in his soul, a weakness. That darkness made me weary of him. And that same weakness is not in your soul."

"Weakness? To what do you refer? Boromir has always been the strong one."

"I am unsure. Perhaps a temptation to evil. There is evil in everyone's soul, no matter how good, how honorable they may seem on the outside. Everyone succumbs to that evil to some extent. Perhaps you and your brother will both face an evil force. For a moment, he will succumb, but you will endure." He shook his head. "I wish I could explain it better to you, Faramir. All I can tell you is that I sensed a purity of spirit in you that I did not sense in your brother." He again pulled Faramir closer, wrapping his arms more tightly around the man's back. "Though my people are known for our beauty, it is the beauty in another's soul that attracts us, the clarity, the purity. And you have that, Faramir, you have that in abundance." He kissed Faramir's forehead. "And that is the finest beauty to possess, for it will not fade with time or age."

Faramir nodded, feeling overwhelmed at the closeness of his companion, his body relaxing under the feeling of the powerful body supporting him. Before he realized what he was doing, he had pulled the elf even closer, wrapping his arms around the broad back and laying his head on the chest. For a long time they stood like that, not moving, not speaking, just enjoying the comfort of the others touch. Finally Faramir spoke. "Mellon?"

"Yes?"

He looked up into the elf's blue eyes, seeming as if he could see into his very soul. "Will you teach me? Teach me how to give pleasure to another?"

Without another word, he nodded, taking Faramir's hand and leading him toward the bed. Faramir could not help but tremble at the thought of what he was about to do. Though his experience was lacking, he had heard enough talk from the other men about what was done between males to understand what the elf had in mind. His trembling increased as hands slowly untied his tunic, reaching inside to stroke his skin. "Shhhh." The elf whispered in his ear. "No need to be afraid. I give you my word I will not hurt you."

Faramir nodded quickly, concentrating on slowing his nervous breathing. The elf pushed his tunic off his shoulders and Faramir lowered his arms, allowing the garment to drop to the floor. Leaning closer, he kissed the man again, following the jawline, back to the ear. Faramir gasped as his earlobe was gently suckled into the elf's mouth.

The elf's hands moved across his chest, finding the hard buds of his nipples and rolling them between his fingers. Moving slowly down Faramir's chest, his mouth took off where his hands had been, sucking and gently biting on the heated flesh. Faramir moaned slightly, pushing his chest into the elf's touch, not able to stop the shivers shooting down his spine. Finally reaching the waist of his leggings, the elf untied them, staring up into Faramir's eyes as he slowly pulled them down.

Faramir flushed as his shaft was exposed, already half hard with arousal. He stepped out of his leggings and his companion picked up the garments, setting them on a nearby table. Finally he stood, looking deeply into Faramir's eyes. "Now your turn. Undress me."

Faramir nodded, his shaking hands having difficulty with the small knots on the elf's tunic. The elf reached out and tilted Faramir's head up to look at his face. "Do you not wish to touch me? The removal of clothes is but one stage. It should be accompanied by kisses or touches, words of endearment if you wish."

Nodding, Faramir stretched up and tentatively kissed the elf, experimenting with nibbling on the upper lip, kissing the neck, the jaw, back to the ear. Trailing his lips along the rim of the ear, he sucked the pointed tip into his mouth, causing a low moan from his companion. Moving to the other side, he repeated his actions, causing another moan.

Finally his fingers freed the knots and he pushed the tunic off. The elf dropped his arms, and the tunic fell to the floor. Faramir gasped at the sight of the perfectly sculpted, hairless chest. His muscles were flat, but hard with long use, rippling slightly under his skin as he moved. In all the times he had seen male chests, he could not remember ever seeing one so perfect.

Swallowing down his nervousness, he ran his tongue down the center of the elf's chest, feeling his shaft begin to harden more at the soft gasps of the elf. Moving over to one side, he sucked on a nipple, then the other. His hands found the ties at the waist of the elf's leggings and he untied them, pushing them down and off. Nervously glancing at the elf's arousal, he picked up the clothes and set them on the table on top of his own.

"Come." Holding out his hand, the elf lay down on the edge of the bed, beckoning the man to lie beside him. Faramir swallowed hard and moved to the other side of the bed, not meeting the gaze of his companion. He lay down on the very edge, trying to stop his nervous shivers. He wanted this, wanted it like he had wanted nothing in a very long time. He had heard the whispers behind his back, the snide comments and knowing glances when his brother retired to his room with yet another lovely maiden, and Faramir walked alone. There had been far too many comments, spoken by thoughtless companions when they thought he could not hear, comments questioning his manhood, questioning if he was even able to pleasure another, and he wanted it to be over. The comments had begun to make him wonder himself; wonder if he truly was a man, if he truly could perform. But he could not deny his fear as well. His companion was so large, how could it fit?

"Are you having second thoughts, Faramir?" he asked softly, reaching a hand over to lie on Faramir's stomach. "If so, tell me now. I will not ask you to do something you do not wish for."

"I....I do wish it, I just....I am unsure what to expect."

He reached to gently cup Faramir's face. "Then allow me to show you, so you do know what to expect." He knelt over Faramir, kissing his lips again, nibbling along the line of his jaw and back to his ear. Tracing his tongue along the shell of his ear, he smiled at the shivers wracking the man's body. Repeating his actions on the other side, his smile widened when Faramir's eyes closed, his head tipping to the side to give easier access to his neck.

He slid his hands lower, stroking and gently pulling on Faramir's nipples as his mouth gently sucked on the man's neck. Faramir tipped his head back, moaning softly at the soft mouth kissing and nibbling on his pulse points. The elf's smile widened, feeling his own arousal grow at the soft moans from the man he was pleasuring. Moving lower, he licked down the center of Faramir's chest, taking in first one nipple, then the other, swirling his tongue around the hard bud, sucking and gently biting. Faramir's hands moved, nearly on their own, entwining in the long silver hair, stroking and gently pulling.

The elf moved lower again, laying soft kisses on Faramir's stomach, his tongue reaching out to dart in the man's navel, causing another hard shudder to go down his spine. Faramir gasped as he felt the first touches of a soft mouth on his throbbing arousal, biting his lip to keep from thrusting up into the welcoming heat. He moaned loudly, writhing on the bed as he was taken into that wet heat again and again and again. After a moment, the elf pulled away and Faramir gave a small gasp of dismay. He shuddered as a warm body pressed against his side, a soft hand pushing his hair back off his face.

"I want to feel you inside me, Lord Faramir," the elf whispered softly, gently nibbling on his neck. "Will you do that for me?"

Faramir's eyes opened wide, locking with his companion. "You....you want....I thought you would want to....to take me...." He flushed at his own words, but did not look away.

"Perhaps later. After I have shown you how it should be done. But for now I want you to take me, son of Gondor. Sheathe your sword in me, beautiful one...." he whispered into Faramir's neck, causing the man to shiver, but when their gazes met again, he nodded.

"What must I do?" he asked softly. The elf stretched for his pack, leaning against the wall next to the bed, and withdrew a small vial. Removing the stopper, he handed it to Faramir.

"First you must ready your partner. Coat the fingers of one hand with this. Careful not to spill, it is oil." Faramir nodded, pouring some of the oil onto his fingers, rubbing the oil around until they were well coated. Rolling to his back, the elf spread his legs, pulling them back toward his head. "Now gently, use one finger." Faramir pressed against the tight opening, feeling it loosen almost immediately, the finger slide inside easily. "If your partner is inexperienced or apprehensive, they will take longer to relax. Do not go too quickly. Now, slowly move in and out a few times until you feel the muscles relax, then add another finger. Apply more oil if you sense it is needed." Faramir did as he was told, quickly adding another finger, then a third when the way again loosened. "Oh yes....just like that," the elf moaned softly, gasping under the gentle touches.

"Now..." he gasped. "Turn your hand....palm up. Feel along the front wall, a small...oh Valar!!! Yes!! Right there!!!" He shuddered as Faramir hit the small gland within him, and it took nearly all of his control to not climax right then.

Faramir's eyes widened as the beautiful creature underneath him writhed and moaned under his gentle touches, feeling a sense of power, of control, he had never experienced. He was unsure what to do, but could tell when his fingers brushed against a small bulge within the tight passage, the elf responded as if he was delirious with pleasure. He continued quickly moving his fingers until the elf lowered one hand and pushed him away, breathing hard and shivering. Taking a deep breath, he glanced at Faramir. "You....you learn quickly," he gasped. "I had to stop you or I would have come undone right then."

"That....that is a pleasure spot for elves?"

"And men. If you wish, you can make a male find his release simply from stroking that spot, even if you never touch his arousal. But....to continue...." he said, taking another deep breath to control himself. "Once your partner is readied, coat your arousal liberally with oil and enter them slowly and gently. The first touch will cause pain, regardless of how careful you are, so be ever so gentle." Faramir nodded, pouring more oil onto this throbbing erection, moaning softly at the feel of the slick skin under his fingertips. When he looked up, his companion was ready and waiting for him, his legs pulled back toward his head. With a deep, nervous breath, he pushed gently against the ring of muscle, feeling the automatic clenching against an invader, then the relaxing as he was slowly taken inside.

Slowly, bit by bit, he felt the tight passage clench around him until he was sheathed fully within. He felt himself twitch and knew he would not last long, no matter how much he wanted this to last for both of them. "Oh.....you....you are so tight," he whispered as he began to move slowly.

The elf's first gasp of pain quickly subsided as he forced himself to relax, soon feeling nothing but the man's arousal brush against his pleasure spot with every thrust. He bit his lip, trying to keep himself under control, but when Faramir moaned loudly and began to thrust harder and deeper, he lost his composure, bucking his hips into Faramir and begging the man to finish him off.

It was over quickly for both of them, the elf climaxing a moment before Faramir, his silken seed coating his stomach. The clenching of his tight passage as he found his release massaged Faramir's pleasure from him, and for a long moment, two voices could be heard, moaning their ecstasy to the darkened room.

At last it was over, and Faramir withdrew, collapsing on the bed next to the elf. He was gathered into strong arms, feeling soft kisses being laid across his shoulders, his neck, the side of his face. He snuggled more closely against the warm body beside him, his eyes closing in contentment. Never in his wildest dreams could he have believed it could be so pleasurable.

They lay together for a long time, saying nothing, just enjoying the pleasure of a warm touch. Faramir lay with his head pillowed on a strong chest, an arm wrapped around his shoulder, a hand making a slow track up and down his arm. He closed his eyes and dozed for a while, and when he woke, the fire had burned itself out. He listened for a few moments, realizing the rain had stopped, but felt no desire to return to his own room on the other side of town.

Finally he glanced up at his companion, the deep blue eyes half-closed in sleep. For a long time, Faramir studied the finely chiseled face, wondering exactly who this elf was. He realized after a moment that the slight glow he was seeing in the room was not from the moonlight as he had thought, but rather was from the elf. His very skin seemed to glow in the darkness, as if lit from within.

Suddenly, as if aware he was being scrutinized, the eyes opened, a small smile appeared on the delicate face. "Do you enjoy watching me sleep, my dear Faramir?"

"You....you glow...." he stuttered, his eyes widening as the elf glowed nearly too brightly to look at, then dimmed to almost nothing. "And....you can control that glow."

"Yes. We glow with the light of the two trees. It is all that is left of their light now."

"Two trees?"

"Two trees of the Valar. They brought light to Valinor in ancient times. They were destroyed ages ago, and could not be healed, even by the mightiest of the Valar. When the elves were first created, so many ages ago, we were endowed with the light of the two trees. Though their light has long been put out by the evil done to them, my people still carry that glow inside of us. As long as an elf yet walks this earth, there is still a remembrance of the trees. An elf finds comfort in the glow of another elf, as it reminds us of the glow of the two trees."

Faramir smiled at the story. "A man also finds comfort in the glow of an elf."

A finely sculpted eyebrow rose at his words. "Indeed? Then our light is even more useful than I thought it to be." Faramir chuckled slightly, snuggling more closely into the warm body next to him. He sighed softly at the feel of soft skin under his fingertips, deciding he could like this more often, could like someone to be strong for him, to take care of him. Finally the elf spoke.

"Would you like to feel me inside of you, my dear Faramir?"

Faramir hesitated for a moment. "It will hurt?"

"Yes," the elf replied honestly. "I cannot tell you how much, as each individual is different, but there will be pain initially until your body adjusts." He ran his fingertips across a long scar on Faramir's chest. "Certainly no more than the hurts you have experienced on the field of battle. And the rewards are ever so much more satisfying."

Faramir nodded. "I....I would like to try it."

"Very well. Roll to your side." Faramir did as he was asked, shivering slightly in nervousness when the elf slowly slid down the bed, laying soft kisses on Faramir's back as he went. He jumped when he felt his buttocks separated, and gave a small squeak of surprise when he felt a warm tongue lapping against his entrance. He clenched his hands in surprise as the tongue gently pressed against him, then a moan of pleasure as he felt it penetrate.

He jerked as the soft warmth slipped further inside of him, gently loosening him, causing his arousal to harden even further. He bit his lip, his eyes closing in pleasure. The men had never talked about THIS. He shuddered, his hands clenching so tight his fingers began to ache as the tongue continued its slow strokes inside of him and he felt a soft hand on his arousal, slowly stroking him.

After a while, the tongue withdrew, and Faramir gave a small gasp of dismay. The elf rolled him to his back, and lowered his mouth onto Faramir's erection. The man gasped, thrusting up into the welcoming heat as he was devoured by the warm mouth. His hips were gently held down as the elf took him in again and again and again, devouring him to the root. He could not take his eyes off the sight of his arousal disappearing between full, delicate lips. The sight was so erotic, he was sure if he had not had release earlier in the night, he would have come right then.

He was so engrossed in what the elf was doing he barely noticed when his companion reached for the bottle of oil and coated his fingers with it. Continuing his actions on the man, he slipped a finger inside of him. Faramir forced himself to relax, giving a slight cry. "Easy, beautiful one," he whispered against Faramir's arousal. "Relax, take me inside." The elf's other hand reached up, gently caressing his chest. After a while, he withdrew his mouth, and Faramir once again gave a small cry of dismay at the loss of contact, but then sighed in contentment as the elf rolled him onto his side and slid up the bed, pressing himself against Faramir's back. He added more oil to his digit and gently pressed in again. This time was easier, a small gasp the only sound from the man.

Faramir concentrated on enjoying the sensations, the long fingers stroking across his chest, stroking and gently pulling on his nipples, the warm body pressing against him, the soft voice whispering soothing words to him. His companion gave him all the time he needed, sliding the finger slowly in and out until he felt the man relax. Ever so gently he added another, hearing another gasp of pain from Faramir, then a sigh of delight as he relaxed. Before long another finger was added, and Faramir relaxed quickly this time, beginning to shudder in unresolved lust as his shaft grew almost achingly hard. His companion knew he was ready, and reaching for the bottle again, he liberally coated his erection. He pulled the man tightly against his chest, pressing ever so gently against the ring of muscle.

Almost instantly, Faramir tensed, in nervousness and fear. The elf again stroked a single finger into him, gently loosening up the opening, then quickly pressing the tip of his erection inside before the muscle could tighten again. "There it is....easy now...." he murmured into Faramir's ear while he slowly slipped inside.

Faramir bit his lip, hissing at the stinging pain as he was penetrated. The elf reached a hand around his body and took Faramir's erection into his palm, gently stroking it, distracting him from the pain. Slowly he entered the man, until he was fully sheathed within the tight passage, then began to move, ever so gently, ever so slowly, being mindful of the gasps of pain from his companion.


Faramir's hands clenched into fists, his eyes shut tight against the combination of pain from his entrance, and pleasure from his shaft. He felt fingers stroking the area just back of his sacs, and finally was able to tell his body to relax as the elf's hand once again moved to his throbbing arousal. The pain lessened almost immediately, and pleasure began to build. The elf shifted position slightly and Faramir lifted off the bed in ecstasy as the gland within him was suddenly touched. "Oh Valar!" he moaned, pressing back against the hard body behind him.

The elf began to move more quickly and more deeply, timing his strokes with his hand's movements on the man's shaft, beginning to moan himself as he approached his climax. "Faramir!" he gasped. "Oh my lovely Faramir! You give me such pleasure!" He groaned, pulling the man more tightly against his chest, for the first time that night, giving in entirely to his own need.

Faramir was nearly out of his mind with pleasure, moving his hips forward and back, trying to increase both sensations at once, barely aware of anything else in the room other than the incredible pleasure emanating from it seemed everywhere on his body. With a shout, he suddenly arched his back, his release shooting over his belly, coating the elf's fingers. The clenching of his tight opening pulled the elf's climax from him, and he shuddered, filling the man with elven seed. For many long moments, the sound of their shared pleasures filled the room, before they finally collapsed boneless to the mattress.

For many minutes they lay entwined with each other, before the elf finally withdrew and pulled the man closer against him, burying his face in the soft reddish brown hair. Close to an hour they lay together, soft caresses, gentle kisses, deep sighs, the only communication between them. Finally Faramir glanced up at the window, seeing the first rays of sun breaking over the horizon, and felt a deep sadness that the night was over. He had never felt so loved, so cared for, in all his life, and now he knew he and his companion would go separate ways.

He started to rise from bed, but was stayed by a strong arm on his shoulder. "Wait a moment," the elf said, reaching for another vial from his pack. Placing a small amount of the contents on his fingertips, he gently rubbed it into the tender flesh of Faramir's backside. He tensed, expecting pain, but the ointment soothed and cooled the sore opening. Slipping the vial into Faramir's hand, he kissed him softly. "This will help it heal. And I would recommend leading your horse for a day or so."

Faramir looked at him uncertainly for a moment before laughing. "I think that is a wonderful idea." He winced slightly as he stood and began pulling on his clothes, seeing the elf do the same. When they both were dressed, Faramir reached out to take the hand of his companion. "Would you accompany me back to my room to gather my belongings? You can protect me from any more persistent serving ladies." The elf nodded, and after gathering up his belongings, followed the man back to his room.

Faramir slowly gathered his possessions together, not yet wanting to part from his companion, and though the elf must have guessed at the reason for the delay, said nothing. Finally they headed to the stables together, gathering up their horses and heading out of town. Faramir had arranged for the seller to deliver the horses to the stables at Minas Tirith, and would meet them a league or two down the road.

At last they reached the road where they had to part, and trying to fight back tears, Faramir turned to his companion, reaching out to grasp the elf's hand. "Thank you, my friend. For....for...." He hesitated, not sure how to express it, but the elf seemed to understand. He nodded slightly and lifted Faramir's hand to his lips, gently kissing the back.

"It was my pleasure as well as yours, Son of Gondor. You are always welcome in Lórien if you should ever have need of my services again," he whispered into the man's ear. Faramir nodded, stretching up for a quick kiss before turning and slowly walking down the path toward home. After only a few steps, he turned and glanced back at his companion, who was re-adjusting the traveling packs on the back of his horse.

"Mellon?"

The elf turned, raising an eyebrow at him. "Yes?"

"Will you please tell me your right name, sir, so that if I do visit your realm I may ask for you properly?"

"You would know me, Faramir, for I would sense your arrival and greet you at our borders. But if you really must know, ask for Silver Tree. If I cannot greet you, the Guardians will know to whom you refer." He bowed slightly, and mounting his horse, headed off down the pathway.

For several minutes, Faramir watched him go, until he was long since out of sight then, with a deep sigh, began slowly leading his horse down the pathway back toward home. "Silver tree...." he mused to himself. "Why would he call himself such a name? That is not a proper elvish name." Suddenly, like a splash of cold water, it hit him. Silver Tree was the meaning in Westron for Celeborn, also known as Lord of Lothlórien, husband of Lady Galadriel. The color drained from his face as he suddenly realized who he had spent the night with. "Celeborn....." He softly sighed to himself, pulling his horse to a stop and leaning up against the broad shoulder. "Why did you not tell me who you were? I would not have taken up your time so, my lord." With a flash of insight, he suddenly realized the reason for Celeborn's secrecy. If he had known who Celeborn was, he would have refused the invitation to stay the night. He would have told himself he was unworthy of the lord's attention, as he was doing now.

But he desired you, Faramir, a small voice told him. He wanted to be with you, knowing full well who you were. He saw the worth in you that you could not find on your own. And he was right. He was so right. You do not need to live your life to the satisfaction of your father, or your brother. Your life is yours. Yours to live how you see fit.

Suddenly, feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders, Faramir smiled, moving off with quick strides down the pathway toward Gondor. Let father yell at me, he thought to himself, let him compare me unfavorably to Boromir. Lord Celeborn of Lothlórien sees the beauty in me, sees the worth. If he can, the least I can do is see it in myself. Quickly turning to face the direction of Lórien, he bowed slightly. "Hannon le, Lord Celeborn," he whispered softly. With another quick glance back down the path, he smiled, heading back to Minas Tirith.

*****

THE END

Go to the next story in the series: Never Parted

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