Disclaimers: I don't own the characters, just borrowing them. And I ain't getting any money from this too, so don't sue.

AN: Sorry it took this long for the next part to come out. The first one was a spur of the moment fic, much like this one. But now at least I know where I'm going with it.

WARNING! SLASH! Read: 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.

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 Two: When Darkness Calls

He lay there waiting for the warden of the Houses of Healing to leave. It has been several hours since he first woke from the dark valley but he felt weary still. He could not sleep…would not sleep. He feared to succumb to the darkness threatening to overwhelm him.

He knew that there is something amiss, but he could not figure out what. He saw the disturbed look that Aragorn sent his way ere he left and he knew that the worst is not yet over. Gandalf came to check on him moments ago, perhaps to find out more about his health, but he too would not say anything. The darkness has lifted, but it was never wholly cured.

The earlier event was just for show, to give heart to the people of Gondor.

He heard the soft click of the door closing behind the warden. Tentatively Faramir got up, listening carefully for the sound of the warden's footsteps to fade. As fast as his weakened body allowed him, Faramir reached for his cloak and hastened to the back of the room.

Behind the painting of Boromir, the eleventh Ruling Steward of Gondor whom his brother was named after, was a secret passage that leads to the outer walls of Minas Tirith. It was not so much as a secret passage, but more of an escape route for when there comes a time that the Tower of the Guard is taken.

Hopefully, this passage will never have to serve its true purpose, thought Faramir.

Grabbing a torch from the wall, Faramir proceeded to climb down. It runs parallel to the path to Rath Dinen and out of the last of the seven walls of Minas Tirith. This passage is familiar to him when he was but a child. He would always climb up to the Houses of Healing and would stay with the herb-master and learn of his lores. At times too, he would find the herb-master consulting with Mithrandir, and he would know that he came at a very fortunate time, for he loved very much the wisdom of Mithrandir and would bother him just to teach him something, anything.

But now, he must turn away from the wisdom of both herb-master and wizard, for he knew of one person who would be willing to tell him of his current state…if he could find him.

He cast his cloak tightly round him and hooded his face and proceeded to go around the outer wall of the City. He started to regret his choice of using the passageway. It might have been easier to look for the Lord Aragorn from within without rousing much suspicion. The worst he would get is a reprimand for getting out of bed. Of course he could pass it off as restlessness and needed a breath of air from the gardens.

But now that he was on the outer walls, it would be more suspicious to try to get in the City. The guards of the Seven Gates have never faltered, and such was the strength of will of the men of Gondor. The only hope for Faramir to enter was that they were too busy rebuilding the fallen walls that they would not notice him enter. But from the Gates of the Third Wall and onward, he dared not hope too much.

It would seem to him odd that he should enter his own City in the cover of darkness, like that of a thief. But Faramir approached the Great Gate nonetheless, preparing to enter. He stood in the shadows waiting for the small band to pass by so he could enter unnoticed. But chance has it that the light, although faint, allowed him to see who was coming out of the City.

It was the Lord Aragorn, flanked on both sides by the sons of Elrond, Elrohir and Elladan. Behind them came some from the host of the Dúnedain.

Faramir held his breath. Now his search does not seem so futile after all.

He followed the small band stealthily, allowing a good few feet between them. Carefully, he thought, after all, they are Rangers from the north.

It was then that Faramir saw the encampment of the Dúnedain in the field, near to where King Théoden of the Mark has fallen. He waited a while for the companions to separate, the Dúnedain to their posts, Elladan and Elrohir to their own tent, and Aragorn to his own tent, away from the camp. When he saw Aragon enter, he soon followed.

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Aragorn heard the soft footfalls in the grass. He saw him standing in the shadows of the walls of the City. He felt him following them to the camp. He knew not if the others noticed him tailing them, if they did they said naught. He sighed and moved near the entrance of the tent, waiting for Faramir to enter.

And enter he did.

Aragorn heard Faramir's soft startled gasp upon seeing no one inside. Aragorn deftly closed the flap of the tent leaving them both in the dark. Faramir spun around surprised. He should have known Aragorn would do something like this. Walking towards a lamp, Aragon lit it and a soft light enveloped them.

"Why have you come, son of--," Aragorn faltered a bit, "…son of Denethor?"

"My Lord, forgive me for intruding but I--," Faramir started, "I really don't know why I'm here," he said finally.

Aragorn gestured for him to sit and Faramir sat at the edge of the bed. The Dúnadan then dragged a chair and sat in front of him.

"My Lord, why do you stay outside the walls of the City?" said Faramir. "Surely you and the Dúnedain are more than welcome inside. You are the King and—"

"Did I not tell you before that I wish not to cause strife between our people?" said Aragorn. "Now is not the time to discuss the matter of politics, not when there is evil abroad."

"But Lord, surely my father would offer you the crown. We are the Stewards of Gondor, and it is our duty to serve until the King has returned."

Aragorn looked away and said nothing. He wished not to be the one to bear the ill news to Faramir about his father. Certainly not while he is not yet wholly cured.

"Come now Faramir," said Aragorn, "I'm sure there is something more important that you wished to discuss other than this, surely you would not sneak out of the City only to tell me this? I and my companions have laboured long into the night healing the others who fought against the Nazgûls and the army of the Dark Lord, I too wish to rest."

Faramir started to get up, extremely mortified at the thought of denying the King his sleep. "I'm really so- sorry, my Lord. I- I did not mean to disturb you." Faramir bowed low. "I shall go now and leave you to your rest."

Aragorn stood too and put both his hands on Faramir's shoulder, gently sitting him down on the bed once more. "Nay Faramir, I would not be able to rest now if you go and not tell me what is ailing you." He again sat down in front of Faramir.

"I know something is still wrong with me," Faramir started again. "Mithrandir won't say anything, and the Warden does not understand the Black Breath. I can still feel the darkness hovering around me and I dare not sleep. I know not what to do. I know not who to turn to." Faramir heaved a great sigh, as if expressing his discomfort has eased some of the darkness.

Aragorn held the other's trembling hand, trying to comfort him.

"Fear not, the Black Breath has passed," said Aragorn. "But I may need you to stay strong. I have not spoken with Gandalf yet, but I fear that there is something that has touched you other than the Black Breath."

"That I know," said Faramir barely above a whisper. "That I know."

"Tomorrow I will speak with Gandalf. Then if you will, return to me and I will tell you what I have found out. And if it is within my power to heal you, I swear I will."

Faramir kissed Aragorn's hand in reverence. "Already this is too much from you my Lord. I thank thee. Now I will truly leave you to your rest." With that Faramir got up and made ready to leave.

When he was about to step out of the tent, he suddenly turned back and looked at Aragorn. The Dúnadan noticed the slight change in his posture, and then he saw the unfamiliar glint in his eyes. Slowly, Faramir walked back to where he was sitting and leaned down to whisper in his ear.

"Did you know what He told me before you came and took me away?" the soft hiss reached Aragorn's ear. "He told me that he would give me my deepest, darkest desires."

Aragorn stiffened. Elbereth! No! This cannot be true!

"And I said yes."

He was touched by the Darkness.

With that, Faramir leaned in and caught his lips in a sweet, deep kiss and then fled into the night. Stunned, Aragorn buried his face in his hands.

Help me Elbereth, he is still dying…

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