Fear of Fire, Chapter Twelve: Revelation

Chapter Summary: With a little "encouragement" from Eowyn, Faramir finally manages to let Aragorn know how he feels.

A/N: I hope this chapter makes up for the long time in between postings. I was struggling with trying to write it all from Faramir's point of view, but Aragorn really wanted his say too. For anyone curious, Lieutenant Amlach will be making his return next chapter.

Revelation

Faramir barely made it back to his rooms; it must have been sheer habit that brought him to his door, for he was too dazed to consider where his feet were taking him. He let himself in quietly, closing the door softly behind him, his mind far away.

He stumbled into the bedroom; Eowyn was lying on her stomach with the lamp lit, reading. She only glanced up. "How did it go?"

"Well," Faramir answered absently.

He went through the motions of getting undressed, not noticing that Eowyn had put her book down and was watching him intently. He was thinking too hard. I love him. By Iluvatar, why did it take me so long to know? What am I to do?

No answers came - none until he lay down in bed, trembling and tense, and suddenly felt Eowyn's warmth along his back and her breath in his ear. "Faramir, what happened?"

"I just need to think," he sighed miserably.

"Faramir." At the urging of her fingers he turned to look at her, and found her face full of compassion. "What happened?"

"I...we didn't fight again, it was nothing like that." Eowyn's face relaxed somewhat. "But--when I turned, and saw him in the firelight, I--" Faramir stumbled, searching for words to define what he had felt. "He was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen." Eowyn held his gaze, making it clear that she was listening and she expected him to go on. "I-I felt something..."

If he was not mistaken, there was a sparkle in Eowyn's eyes as she stroked his hair back from his face. "What sort of something?"

"A...tingling," Faramir admitted, blushing.

Eowyn grinned, which made him blush harder. "A good tingling?" she prompted when he didn't go on.

"Well, a-- I don't know, it was-- Eowyn, stop that!" he said testily. Eowyn blinked, her smile faltering. "I need to think, just--stop grinning at me like that." He sat up, aggravated, and dropped his head into his hands. "I have to figure out what to do."

After a moment, Eowyn sat up and started lightly kneading his shoulders. "I'm sorry, Faramir. I didn't realize how upset you were."

Faramir exhaled heavily, his anger evaporating. "Not with you," he sighed. "I just-- I must think."

"Well," said Eowyn cautiously, "it sounds to me like you're attracted to Aragorn."

Attracted - Faramir tried the word out in his mind and grimly dismissed it. It wasn't strong enough. But it was a place to start from, so he nodded cautiously. "And you didn't tell him?" Eowyn continued. Faramir shook his head. "Why not?"

Faramir blinked. "It's not as simple as all that, Eowyn. I'm his Steward. He's the King."

Eowyn was silent for a moment. Faramir was continuing in his spiral towards depression when she said, quite suddenly, "Well? That's your only objection?"

"No," Faramir said--only to find he couldn't find another one to put into words. There was his personal weakness to consider, the fact that even if it could be arranged he was probably not a suitable consort for a King, but he didn't care to bring that up. "But it is a large one."

"Faramir, Aragorn likes you."

Faramir tensed. "How do you know that?"

"He kissed you," Eowyn replied placidly. "The night before we were married. Unless you were just spinning a fantasy when you told me that."

Faramir deflated again. "Yes, but...I told him I didn't wish to continue anything like that."

"So, tell him you have changed your mind."

Faramir buried his face in his hands again. "It's not that simple! Even if he still cares for me that way, even if he hasn't found someone else it wouldn't work, and when it doesn't we'll have hurt each other but we'll still have to work together--"

"Don't be a coward, Faramir," Eowyn said crossly, tugging on his hair. "You like him. He likes you. That is all I can see to this situation."

"Clearly," Faramir said wearily, "I can see more than you."

"Clearly," Eowyn agreed, unperturbed. "But since that is all I can see, and since I care for you and Aragorn even if you are a couple of ninnies when it comes to each other, I think I'll just have to tell him you've changed your mind for you."

Faramir stared at her in horror. "You... You wouldn't..."

Eowyn met his gaze frankly, daring him to call her a liar. But he must have looked truly pathetic, because after a moment her expression softened and she reached out to touch his hair. "I really do like you, Faramir. And I'm not going to let you give this up for yourself. You've got to tell Aragorn how you feel--and if you won't, then I really and truly will."

Faramir stared at her for a moment longer before realizing she was utterly serious. "Alright. Alright, I'll..." He swallowed. "I'll tell him."

"Good. Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" Faramir repeated with panic. "No, not tomorrow, I've got to think through this, I need time."

"I'm just saying, I'll be telling him the day after tomorrow so it might not come as much of a shock to him..."

"Eowyn!"

Eowyn smiled at him, the picture of innocence. "Now aren't you glad you married me?"

----------------------------------------------------

Eowyn reminded Faramir of her promise first thing when they woke up the next morning, and again before he left for the Council. Threats of future reprisals had no effect on her whatsoever - so it was a nervous and distracted Steward who stood next to the King that morning and helped him through the protocol and ceremony of calling into session the first King's Council in nearly a millenium. Aragorn noticed his unease, of course, and cast him worried glances, but they had no opportunity to speak until the break at midday. In future sessions they would be expected to confer both regularly and briefly - a quick, whispered conversation with the Steward had saved more than one king of Gondor from embarrassment, as the Steward was allowed to have notes and documents present that the King was not - but today was largely about ceremony. There were long, formal speeches from each councilor to get through, all about how good it was to have a King in Gondor again, and how brave he had been during the War of the Ring, and how each councilor was certain the area he represented would become the most loyal and fruitful in all of Gondor.

Aragorn listened to each of them with such a grave expression of attention that even Faramir could not tell if was really and truly as interested as he seemed. But when the time came to adjourn for the midday meal, Aragorn announced that he needed to review the rest of the schedule with Faramir and had whisked him off to the King's private study before much of the council could even get to their feet.

As soon as they were out of the public eye, Aragorn gave a groan and stretched his arms over his head, cracking several joints. "By the Valar, that was excruciating," he groaned. "A man could age very quickly this way."

Faramir indulged himself in a smile. "It will be better after a few days," he said reassuringly.

Aragorn stretched his neck from side to side, looking at Faramir curiously. "You don't look as though you had enough sleep last night," he said in a voice that tried to be casual and didn't quite make it.

"I hardly slept at all," Faramir answered truthfully.

Aragorn looked at him with concern. "Was it...something from the fire last night?"

"Ah...yes," Faramir answered, more or less truthfully.

Aragorn bit his lip. "I didn't know whether to go after you or not," he said worriedly. "I was afraid I would just make it worse if I did, but I didn't want you to be alone either."

Faramir flushed lightly. "Oh, I-- I wasn't alone. I have Eowyn. But I-- I do need to talk to you about something." Thanks to Eowyn.

"Of course," Aragorn replied promptly.

There was a moment of silence before Faramir realized Aragorn was looking at him expectantly. "Not here," he stammered hastily. "I mean, not now. It--it would take to long to get into."

"This evening, then?"

"Aren't you busy?"

Aragorn shook his head. "I wouldn't let them schedule anything tonight. I thought I would need a break after the first day of Council."

Faramir's eyes widened. "Oh, I cannot--"

"This is more important, Faramir," Aragorn interrupted firmly. "I always have time for you."

Faramir hesitated, but in the end he could do nothing but nod. "This evening, then."

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Faramir scarcely heard a word that was said in the rest of the Council. He was too busy making himself ill with apprehension. He kept envisioning the scene to come: they would walk down to the king's gardens, Aragorn would sit next to him and ask what was troubling him, and then he would listen attentively as Faramir stammered his way through an explanation. There was no graceful way to lead into the topic.

Oh, yes, the rangers in Ithilien are seeing fewer and fewer orcs, and did I mention I'm falling in love with you? Perhaps we should lessen the patrols.

It was hopeless.

But he couldn't just blurt out his feelings, could he? There had to be some way of getting around to the subject. At this point in his musings he would usually come to with a start, feeling guilty that he was not taking notes for Aragorn, and listen to a few sentences of the speeches before his mind would start toying with another way to work into the subject, and the cycle would repeat itself.

He didn't know whether to be dismayed or relieved when the Council ended without his having come to any conclusions. They met up with their wives again for the evening meal, and Faramir promptly sent Eowyn a Look that he hoped conveyed how much revenge he intended to extract upon her for this; she was cheerfully indifferent, kissing his cheek before they sat down.

Faramir had become well aware over the years that in battle, when you needed more time to strategize it would fly by; but when waiting for an enemy's approach, time could slow to a crawl. He found now that the same was true in civilian life, as he felt like they had barely sat down when the meal was suddenly over and Aragorn was trying to catch his eye. Faramir briefly considered trying to look away, but he met Eowyn's gaze instead and quickly gave up. Rising, the Steward and King dismissed themselves, to the dismay of those hoping to bend their ears over the first day of Council, and headed once again for Aragorn's gardens.

Faramir still had no idea how to go about saying what he needed to say - the only thing he could think was that throwing himself off a cliff was looking like a rather appealing option right now. Fortunately, after a minute or two of desperate hedging and small talk from Faramir, Aragorn seemed to realize he couldn't lead the conversation and took control of it. They had been walking in aimless circles, talking about the Council meeting, when Aragorn suddenly said, "Faramir, I hope you weren't overwhelmed last night. I couldn't sleep for worrying about you."

Guilt. "No, I..." Well, yes, he had been overwhelmed, but not in the way Aragorn was thinking. "I...well..." Unfortunately, his mouth seemed to be suffering some sort of paralysis, and nothing was coming out right.

Aragorn looked at him with increased concern. I've burdened him too much already. The older man took a deep breath. "Faramir, I...there's something I want to ask you. But I realize it may not be my place, and you may not wish to speak to me about it. I should not even ask you, and yet I cannot help but want to know."

"You may ask me," Faramir said, glad for the momentary reprieve.

Aragorn suddenly would not look at him. "I...I should not be asking this," he muttered.

"We have already established that," Faramir said with a small smile. "You can ask me anything."

Aragorn walked forward and leaned against one of the garden walls, seemingly bracing himself. He stared moodily out into the west. "When...well..." He took another deep breath. "Sometimes when we are trying to get to the root of what's troubling you with the fire, and I know you're thinking about your father, you get an odd look on your face . And I think about something Boromir told me on the quest - something about the way you were raised - that troubles me deeply. And I..." Aragorn shrugged helplessly. "Faramir," he said softly, "did your father ever beat you?"

Faramir froze. This was the last question he had been expecting. Aragorn was carefully not looking at him, giving him a moment to absorb the question. "Uh..."

"It's okay, you don't have to answer," Aragorn said quickly. "I apologize for asking."

"No, it's not that, it's--" Faramir ran a hand through his hair, trying to get his mind to focus. "You merely surprised me."

"I'm so--"

"It is alright - I said you could ask me."

Faramir took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh; he walked forward, bracing his arms on the same wall as Aragorn so he wouldn't have to look at the other man. "When I...." He shook his head ruefully. "I cannot believe Boromir spoke to you of this."

Aragorn looked at him with compassion. "It was not as though we just suddenly began to speak of it one day," he said. "We just--I don't know--we were speaking of our families, our childhoods, anything to keep our minds off the Ring." Aragorn smiled slightly, still not looking at him. "He spoke of you constantly, Faramir. And sometimes of your father. He spoke of 'the Steward' and 'Lord Denethor,' and then he spoke of 'Faramir' and 'my brother.' I suppose I became curious about his wording." There was a pause. "What I am trying to say is that he did not betray your confidence in any way. I guessed something was wrong."

Faramir nodded. "My father...we never saw eye to eye."

"You really don't have to answer me," Aragorn said softly. "I was out of line."

Faramir shook his head. "No, I-- I want to tell," he said softly. "I haven't-- since Boromir died, I haven't spoken of--"

He couldn't get further than that, but Aragorn nodded to show his understanding. Faramir kept his eyes trained on the sunset; it was easier to do this if he didn't have to look at Aragorn while he spoke. "We didn't see eye to eye," he stammered again. "There were times...when he felt it necessary to drive home a particular point to me. Like--like when I told him I preferred men to women," Faramir said with a sigh. "And--the first time I lost a man on patrol. I can't remember all the times."

"He beat you for loosing a man on patrol?" Aragorn asked, his disbelief apparent in his voice.

Faramir nodded, swallowing past a lump as he remembered the incident. "Only the first time. It was good for me. It helped me realize what was at stake, how much I needed to... to try and save them..."

"Faramir." There was a world of compassion in Aragorn's voice. Faramir stopped trying to come up with some way to justify it as Aragorn's arms very gently encircled him. "Faramir, gods. I'm a ranger, I know what it's like to loose someone you were responsible for, someone you loved, especially the first time. And to think...he made you feel responsible, worse than you already did..."

A dozen defenses for his father's behavior leapt into Faramir's head, but he didn't speak any of them. Instead, he turned and wrapped his arms around the man he wanted so desperately, resting his head on Aragorn's shoulder.

Aragorn quickly pulled him close, as Faramir had known he would. He sighed, relaxing into his embrace. This was so much easier. So much nicer, rather than trying to explain himself or anything else, just to be held and to know he was cared for. Faramir suddenly realized he had been moving closer to Aragorn and tensed to pull back. But then he stopped. An idea had just occurred to him. Maybe, instead of stammering and struggling to find the words to tell Aragorn how he felt, he could do it this way.

Faramir didn't allow himself time to think or be afraid. He just shut his brain down and let his instincts take over. Instead of pulling away he pressed closer to Aragorn, nuzzling his throat. Instantly he felt pleasure well up in him. Pleasure, and desire for more. Gods, this feels good. Even if it didn't work - even if Aragorn pushed him away afterwards - he would have this memory, this one moment of being held not like a friend or an ally, but like a lover. He could smell the lingering scent of herbs Aragorn carried with him, and it made him remember the last time they had kissed. It made him forget everything else.

----

Aragorn froze in shock when Faramir's lips touched his, certain that he was dreaming. Faramir pressed against him, gently it was true, but he didn't pull away-- not until Aragorn remained frozen. Then he did pull away, gently, staying close to him. "Thank you," Faramir murmured, his eyes cast down.

Aragorn slowly began to recover from his paralysis. Faramir was tense, but not making any move to pull away. Not like last time. Aragorn parted his lips to ask a question - any question - but instead he found himself moving closer. Faramir did not move - neither towards nor away from him. He waited.

Slowly, ever so slowly, giving Faramir every chance in the world to back away, Aragorn brought their mouths closer together. He could have cried for relief when their lips finally touched. Aragorn closed his mouth softly over Faramir's, still hesitant, barely daring to do even so much. Faramir kissed him back gently, slowly moving his lips against Aragorn's. Aragorn felt the same lust well up inside him that had startled them both so badly last time, but he ruthlessly quelled it, instead kissing Faramir gently, cupping his face lightly between his palms.

After an immeasurable moment they broke apart for breath, definitely not at ease. Faramir could not seem to look at Aragorn; he cleared his throat, glancing about, and finally settled on looking back at the sunset. Aragorn also turned to face the west, but as he did so, he put his arm across Faramir's shoulders. It was risky, but he wasn't willing to let this moment go, wasn't willing to let Faramir slip away from him again. Not when his lips were tingling and he felt as if his soul had just grown - no, he had to find some way of keeping Faramir here.

A thrill went through him when he felt Faramir's arm tentatively encircle his waist. He drew the younger man closer, lifting his hand to gently stroke Faramir's hair. Faramir tilted his head towards him, finally meeting his eyes. There was a question in Faramir's. Aragorn's voice returned to him. "I thought we weren't going to do this?"

He had been trying to be suave, but he realized it had been absolutely the wrong thing to say when Faramir's face flooded with apprehension. "Only if you want to."

Aragorn released Faramir's shoulders and turned him so they were facing each other, cupping Faramir's face in both his hands. "Faramir, what do you want?"

Faramir stared at him for a moment. Then he moved forward and, without warning, kissed Aragorn deeply. "This," he said simply after he had pulled away.

Aragorn drew him back. "Then we'll do this." He kissed Faramir back, just as deeply, holding him as tightly as he could ever have wished. And they stayed there in each other's arms, hesitantly touching, drawing closer. They stayed long after the sun had set over Minas Tirith for the night.