Disclaimers: I do not own the following: Middle-earth, Aragorn, Faramir, Bergil, the Númenóreans, Gandalf, Prince Imrahil….damn, even the shadows! I guess I own basically nothing huh? Darn, Tolkien beat me to the copyrights! And yes, to follow the events that happened, I copied a few passages from the chapter The Houses of the Healing in the RotK.

AN: *ureshii* I finally got back my set of LotR!! Now I can finally write about the Third Age. The First Age is too complex with all the characters and battles running wild every which way. Anyway, since there are very few people who write Faramir fics….I guess I'll try my hand at it. But I still can't decide on the pairs!

WARNING! SLASH! male x male relationships. Don't like? Well, no one's forcing you to read.

Spoilers for Book VI of Part III, Return of the King

Pair: Aragorn/Faramir. Don't like the pair? As I said, no one's forcing you to read.

Reviews and comments would be greatly appreciated!! Thank you!!

Life to the Dying
by valacirca

When the black breath blows
and death's shadow grows
and all lights pass,
come athelas! come athelas!
Life to the dying
In the king's hands lying!

~~Athelas, Lord of the Rings

Part One: The Shadowlands

Darkness. Darkness everywhere, enveloping him in its captivating embrace. Forcing him to yield to the power it held. Slowly, seductively, darkness curls its fingers around his heart, forcing him to yield to his dark and innermost desires. Promising him pleasure and pain. The darkness is calling him into a deeper void. The darkness is calling him for a deeper purpose. A release from the light that binds him. A release from the warmth that devours him. Darkness, it is everywhere.

Awake! Son of Denethor, Awake! Steward of Gondor.

A warmth. A small warmth tickling his senses. But what senses had he? He is enveloped by the shadows. Nothing could penetrate the shadow that is wrapped around him. It blankets him, an assurance of the nothingness that he felt the need to acquire. The shadow was there to guide him to nothingness. It will not be long before he becomes as one with the shadow.

Faramir, I call to thee. Awake and leave the shadows.

A sliver of light. No! It is the light that binds me! Leave me to my eternal peace! His hand was glowing. The warmth crept up to his hand, calling him, beckoning him to leave the sanctuary of his blanket of darkness. He pulls back, afraid. Afraid of what hurt the light might bring. The light flickers, the hand dimmed. The warmth was starting to pull back.

Fear not the light. It shall not harm you. Come, Steward of Gondor.

There was warmth in his brow. He allowed the warmth to touch him. It would not harm him, it said. The shadow is falling back, but is hovering after him, beckoning him to return. But the warmth of the light is caressing him. The voice was calling him, and he cannot refuse. He dare not refuse. The light should not be feared. The light shall comfort him.

Come back to your people, Faramir. Your king commands it.

The burst of light chased the darkness away, there is nothing but light and warmth. The light is embracing him, and warmth caressing him. A touch on his brow, a soft kiss. A warmth on his hand, a comfort in his slumber. An outline of a figure before him, there was no doubt on his mind that the person before him is a Lord of the West. But he cannot see him, the light blinds him. He bowed before the Númenórean, his ancestor.

Awake! Return with me, Faramir. We shall go back to our people.

"Command me, my Lord."

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Aragorn heaved a great sigh.

He was drained. The shadow that took the Steward had already grown in his heart. Had he reached him a few moments later, then everything would have turned for the worse. They would have lost Faramir. But fortune had smiled upon them, for the Steward is now safe and the shadow will no longer touch him. The mind is now healed, but what of his heart? Too deep had the shadow touched him, stirring echoes of darkness in the hearts of mortal men, great though they may be.

Even now he lies in a dreamless slumber.

But still he continues to whisper words to Faramir, calling ever his name, lest he return to the shadows. If one in his state would return to the shadows, he surely would not return. Fainter and fainter did his voice become, for he is returning to what is now the world of Faramir, a Void.

Then he saw him. Faramir was trapped in his own mind, and have no reason to return. Stepping closer, Aragorn allowed himself to be seen.

"You will not be harmed by the light, Faramir," said Aragorn. "Would you not come?"

Gently, he clasped the Steward's hand, leading him further into the light, as far away from the remaining darkness as possible. Aragorn kissed the brow of the Steward and said, "You will have to wake. Your people needs you, they love you and wanted you back. They need someone they trust to rule them."

"But my lord, you have returned. Would you not take the crown? For you are the rightful heir of Gondor."

"Nay, Faramir, I would not wish to stir no doubt in our people's heart."

"If you willed it so, lord, I will come."

Aragorn sighed, he had finally convinced him to rouse from his dreamless slumber. The mind has returned, soon the body shall follow. He needs only now the plant athelas. Aragorn has sent for kingsfoil, yet none can be found for it is but a weed to the people of Gondor. At last, Bergil came running in as if his life depended on it, for indeed three lives are at stake. Six leaves wrapped in cloth he bore and gave to Aragorn.

"It is kinsfoil, Sir," said Bergil "but not fresh I fear, It must have been culled two weeks ago at the least. I hope it will serve, Sir?" Then looking at Faramir he burst into tears.

But Aragorn smiled.

"It will serve," he said. "The worst is now over, stay and be comforted."

Then taking two leaves, he lay them on his hands and breathed on them, and then he crushed them, and straightway a living freshness filled the room, as if the air itself awoke and tingled, sparkling with joy. And he cast the leaves into bowls of steaming water that were brought to him, and at once all hearts were lightened. For the fragrance that came to each was like a memory of dewy mornings of unshadowed sun in some land of which the fair world in Spring is itself but a fleeting memory.

But Aragorn stood up as one refreshed, and his eyes smiled as he held a bowl before Faramir's dreaming face. Softly whispering words none can hear, he called back the Steward, but this time Aragorn did not go forth into Faramir's mind. He is calling him from the world outside, beckoning him to return.

"It is now time for you to return to your people, Faramir, Steward of Gondor."

Suddenly Faramir stirred, and he opened his eyes, and he looked on Aragorn who bent over him; and a light of knowledge and love was kindled in his eyes, and he spoke softly.

"My lord, you called me. I come. What does the king command?"

"Walk no more I the shadows, but awake!" said Aragorn. "You are weary. Rest for a while, and take food, and be ready when I return."

"I will, lord," said Faramir. "For who would lie idle when the king has returned?"

"Farewell then for a while!" said Aragorn. "I must go to others who need me." And he left the chamber with Gandalf and Imrahil.

Before he passed through the doors, he glanced back at Faramir who was looking at him. Something stirred in Aragorn, he was worried. He knew that the shadow has reached the heart of Faramir, and although it did not take him wholly, even a touch of shadow can become fatal to an untainted heart. He would talk with Gandalf about it later.

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A bit short, but the next ones will be longer I hope. Please review and tell me what you think! Thank you!