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

AN: My heart just did a summersault coz as I was typing up the AN, my pc hanged and I thought I wasn't able to save O_O Anyway, I'm glad I was able to, now all I need was to retype the AN, which is basically saying that I'm sorry it took me so long to update coz the last month was hell for me, finals and papers one on top of the other.

Also I'm going away this weekend so that's that. But classes are over for me and I have the whole vacation to write yay!! But anyway, happy Lenten Season to all. Today is Black Saturday and what do I do? I write fics ^^;;;;

Also, Megumi Takahashii, I was able to see those piccies!! Sorry I wasn't able to reply, I went to the province that weekend *eep!*

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 Three: Of Stewards and the Kings

"Touched by the Shadows," Gandalf stated noncommittally.

"Yes, I deemed it so," replied the Ranger, weary of the debate he is having with the old wizard.

"I have looked into it long into the night in the vast libraries of the White Tower, and I feared to learn more of it." The wizard sighed heavily. "You are right Aragorn, one of pure heart would be greatly devastated by the touch of the shadows."

"Even I have feared to confirm our worst thoughts, Gandalf," said the Ranger. "But should we keep on looking the other way, hoping with all our hearts that it is not so, then Faramir would lie in graver danger than we have not foreseen."

Gandalf remained silent.

"I shall not be one to turn against my people."

"Very well, Aragorn. I shall offer what I can to help, but this task shall be your own," Gandalf said slowly, taking great consideration. "I have not the strength to wrestle with the shadow both in the hearts of men and on the land of the living and the dead.

"You know us for what we are, and I shall not hide it from you, descendant of the Númenóreans. The Dark Lord and I contest our powers where none save few could comprehend. But meanwhile I shall tend to the people of Gondor so that you may have time for the fallen Steward."

"I thank you my friend," replied Aragorn. "And now you will have to tell me what you have learned in your labour, for time runs quickly in these dark days."

"Indeed and if I have guessed correctly, only you can be able to save him."

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Thoughts have plagued Aragorn since dawn when he sought Gandalf 's aid. They were yet to learn the nature of this darkness that binds Faramir. Cure, if such exists, should be sought without delay. Aragorn sat down in an unexpected moment of repose. Since they came down the river Anduin he had been swamped by thought and councils of war. The Ring Bearer and his companion were ever in his mind.

But right now, more urgent matters are at hand. One where he could help in.

Memories of last night's encounter came unbidden in his mind. He has yet to tell Gandalf about them, but at that time he refrained from saying them and he knew not why. But last night's incident have given him insight as to what he might expect from Faramir. Indeed, the Steward himself has told him what to expect.

"He told me that he would give me my deepest, darkest desires."

But what of the kiss?

The answer eludes him.

And so he waits, with patience borne from years of toil in the wild. He waits for the next Lord or leader to consult with him, or a healer to ask for his aid, or for Gandalf to come with new information and whisk him away from his moment's rest.

But it seems that he need not have to wait long, for at the next instant he heard the soft footfalls of boots outside his tent. He drew himself up ready to face another task.

"My Lord, you have called me. I am now here," said the voice from outside the tent.

Startled, Aragorn quickly crosses to the flaps. This voice is the least he expected to hear, let alone the bidding that he was called upon. Opening the flaps, Aragorn ushered the Steward in with all thoughts of war fleeing from his mind.

"Faramir, this is a surprise indeed," said Aragorn. "How are you faring?"

"Very well my Lord. But it has come to my knowledge that you shall be seeking me, so I have come to save you the trouble," said Faramir.

"And by whom was this knowledge brought?" asked Aragorn.

"The Periannath Prince," replied Faramir. "He said 'I reckon that Strider, that's Aragorn, shall want to talk to you soon. He has news for you I think.' So I came quickly, not heeding the warnings of the Warden."

"Did he now?" said Aragorn, amused. "These halflings have a way with words. They say more than what they should and less that what they mean to."

"So I am mistaken?" asked Faramir. "Forgive me then my Lord, for once again I have disturbed your rest." Faramir then made ready to leave.

"Nay, do not leave, not yet," hastened Aragorn and Faramir dropped back to his seat. "I will have to tell you of the plans that the other Lords and I were to discuss on this evening's war council."

Aragorn took a deep breath. He has not the heart to tell this son of Gondor of the fate of his father. To know that he lost both his brother and father to the darkness will not be well with him. Especially now that he too is at the edge of the embrace of the shadows.

But he too is loath to tell him of the plans for the coming days. But there is not much to say, and so it should be that he has chosen to reveal the lesser of two evils.

"I shall be asking them to face the Dark Lord's army at his very gates," stated Aragorn. "In a fortnight, we shall travel lightly and swiftly. I know the outcome does not bode well for us, but with Gandalf's wisdom I deemed it time for us to meet them. All out fates lie with the Ringbearer."

"That is well my Lord," replied Faramir. "I trust both your and Mithrandir's wisdom. And in a fortnight I too shall be healed completely, only I ask to fight beside you Lord."

"Nay."

"Pardon?"

"Nay. You shall not be coming with us."

"But my Lord, it is my duty—" started Faramir rising to his feet.

"Stay Steward of Gondor," Aragorn held out a hand, hoping that Faramir will not notice the slip of tongue. "You are needed here."

"I shall take my father's stead. I shall come with thee!"

Aragorn said naught and turned sadly away. He realized that there is nothing he could do but tell him the truth. One could not hide hurt with another hurt.

"Do not dare imprison me on this White Tower," came the slightly hissing whisper of Faramir.

Aragorn quickly turned back to the Steward, noticing the gathering darkness around him. A flash of light and in an instant Faramir was wielding a blade. Aragorn recognized it immediately, a Morgul dagger.

"Faramir, from whence did you get that blade?" Aragorn stood quickly, reaching for his own sword, Anduril. Faramir however was quicker and nearer, and he snatched the sheathed blade from the desk where it rests.

"My Lord shall not keep me from my desires," Faramir said edging closer to Aragorn who stood motionless, bidding his time. He knew Faramir, in his condition, is no threat. The dagger however is another story, a single scratch could send him into the darkness.

"It is my wish, nay my desire to battle for the Lord Aragorn," continued Faramir. Aragorn felt the cool metal slide down his cheek as Faramir leaned in, only a breath away. "For thee I shall spill blood, and for thee I shall be victorious."

"Thou has duty both to me and to our people," said Aragorn undaunted. "But theirs is the greater claim. Thou shalt stay, Steward of Gondor."

As if a veil was lifted from his eyes, Faramir backed away, shocked. Both Anduril and the Morgul blade fell with a dull thud on the ground, but then Faramir's eyes narrowed and the golden glint came back in his eyes.

"Twice have you called me Steward," said Faramir uncertainly. "My Lord speaks as if I hold my father's name. Tell me Lord, has something befallen my father?"

Aragorn was silent but for a while. Then at last he answered, choosing his words carefully.

"I call thee Steward, for it is the duty of the son to take thy father's stead."

It was then that Aragorn deemed that the shadow was never wholly lifted from Faramir but the voice that carried the grief was indeed the Steward's and no tint of shadow lay in those last words before he once again fled without warning.

"You lie!"

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AN: Okay, my usual disclaimers include: It being 3 am I'm not sure if my spelling and grammar are in perfect condition. I'll be rechecking it after I get back from wherever my family's dragging me off to this weekend. In the meantime, I'm posting this up.

Please review! Thanx so much!