Fear of Fire, Chapter Sixteen: Love
Chapter Summary: Aragorn chases Faramir down and refuses to let him go that easily.
WARNING: Sex in this chapter. Very nongraphic sex, but sex nonetheless.
A/N: Oy! Okay, here's what happened. Starting the beginning of May I was subject to a series of dramatic and not completely voluntary changes in my RL, which left me both emotionally unbalanced and without time to write. I never meant to abandon this story. This chapter in my opinion is not as good as it should have been, and it is unbetaed, but having completed some form of it finally I couldn't wait to post it. I beg your forgiveness for the tardiness and the decreased quality. I hope to have time to write now, if not as much as I once did; there will be one more chapter to this story, and hopefully more fics to follow.

Love

Aragorn stayed in his study for a while after Faramir left. He sat against the edge of his desk, then moved behind it, trying to find something to do. He picked up papers and then put them down, because they inevitably reminded him of Faramir. Things he needed Faramir's help with, or that Faramir had brought to him to do. Things he didn't even need his Steward to do, but that he wanted Faramir's advice with. That was all there was on his desk. What are you looking for. He's not here.

Aragorn left the room and made his way back to his chambers. He didn't even notice the guards and courtiers bowing themselves out of his way as he picked up speed, finally thinking of an objective: sleep. He would go to bed and sleep this off; things always hurt less after you had slept on them.

Arwen was in the front room reading; when he didn't say hello to her, but stumbled blindly into the bedroom, she followed him curiously. "Aragorn? Is something wrong?"

The innocent caring of her query quickly shattered Aragorn's defenses. He sat down numbly on the edge of the bed, halfway through stripping out of his clothes. "Faramir," he began, but couldn't get any farther.

Arwen sat next to him, automatically reaching for his hand and gripping it tightly. "What about Faramir?"

Words were having a hard time getting through the large lump in Aragorn's throat. "Doesn't want to see me anymore," he said thickly.

"What? Why?"

"He... he hurt himself..." Aragorn frowned, trying to remember exactly what Faramir had said to him. All he could think of was the overwhelming panic and unhappiness that Faramir's words had brought on, not the actual words themselves. "It was because of me."

Arwen's hand flew to her mouth. "He hurt himself?"

Aragorn nodded, waves of misery washing over him. Saying it to Arwen made it all real. "But--but he seemed so happy with you," Arwen stammered.

"He must not have been." Aragorn pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying not to cry. "Arwen, I'm not that unobservant. I should have known if he was unhappy. If he didn't want to be with me anymore; I should have sensed it. Not just out of the dark like this."

Arwen was frowning. "Yes," she said slowly. "Yes, you should have."

Aragorn gave a hollow laugh. "I guess living in a stone city has dulled my intuition more than I thought."

"No, I didn't mean that." Arwen looked at him thoughtfully. "Aragorn, something must have brought this on."

"What do you mean?" Aragorn asked, scrubbing at his eyes.

"Something must have upset him today," Arwen said firmly. "And if you didn't see him all day, then it wasn't you."

"But why would he take it out on me?"

Arwen paused. "That's a good question," she finally said. "You'll have to ask him."

Aragorn felt a faint stirring of anger. "He doesn't want to see me anymore."

Arwen rolled her eyes. "Aragorn, Faramir loves you."

Aragorn stared at her. She seemed perfectly confident. "He's never said so," he finally stammered.

"Well, he's shy. I imagine you'll have to be the first one to say it." Arwen leveled a piercing look at him. "And don't try to pretend to me that you're not in love with him, either. It's obvious to everyone but you and him."

"Everyone being you and Eowyn."

"And who better to see it? Aragorn, you have to go talk to him."

"He doesn't want to see me," Aragorn muttered stubbornly. But Arwen's confidence was slowly making an impression on him, and his heart was fluttering--he wished it wouldn't, he wished he could just give up now. What if Faramir rejected him a second time, made it completely and abundantly clear that he didn't want Aragorn?

What if he didn't ask, and spent the rest of his life wondering if Faramir had really wanted Aragorn to chase after him?

"He says he doesn't want to see you. You owe it to yourself to find out if it's true or not."

"He didn't even say that," Aragorn said in sudden realization. "He just said--he said it wasn't for the best for us to see each other."

They stared at each other for a moment.

"Go to him," Arwen said, but Aragorn was already up. He left the room without a second thought, hurrying through the hallways at a brisk walk, aching to run but knowing it would attract too much attention.

He didn't allow himself to think or to become nervous. he just walked until he was at the door to Faramir's rooms and then knocked firmly.

Nothing happened. Gritting his teeth, Aragorn knocked again, harder. And a third time.

The door was finally flung open - Eowyn was on the other side, looking frazzled. "What?" she snapped before she saw who it was. Aragorn opened his mouth, not sure what he was going to say, but then Eowyn actually looked at him. "Oh, good," she said in tones of immense relief, stepping back to let him in.

She shut the door, and then suddenly turned and looked at him piercingly. "Wait-- what are you here to do?" Again, Aragorn was speechless. "You're not going to hurt him further?"

Aragorn managed to find his voice. "No. I love him," he said carefully, trying the words out and finding he loved them. "I came to tell him that."

Eowyn took a deep breath. "Then get in there."

Truly worried now, Aragorn crossed to the door of their bedroom in seemingly only a few strides. He paused before opening the door. "You might--this might take a while," he said awkwardly. "You might want to stay with Arwen." Eowyn nodded in agreement.

Aragorn turned back to the door and took a deep breath before pushing it open. The room was lit only by a single candle, but Aragorn could clearly see Faramir slumped across the bed, devoid of his shirt but still wearing his leggings, with a sleeping robe lying on the bed next to him. Clearly Eowyn had been trying to get him into bed. Faramir was lying face down against the pillows--Aragorn could not hear him crying, but his shoulders were shaking.

Aragorn was not consciously aware of moving, but next thing he knew he found himself at the bedside, grasping Faramir's shoulders and pulling him into his arms. Faramir looked up at him, face tearstained, bewildered--but he had time for no more than realizing who was holding him before Aragorn sealed his lips over Faramir's, kissing him deeply, not giving him time to protest. If he truly doesn't want me, he can push me away.

Faramir didn't push him away; but neither did he return the kiss. He seemed paralyzed with shock. Aragorn kissed him deeply anyway, pulling back only long enough to grab a lungful of air before kissing him again, pressing their chests together, trying to communicate his love through touch alone. Faramir broke out of his daze and made his distress known, trying to twist out of Aragorn's arms, but Aragorn wouldn't let him go. He wasn't holding Faramir tightly enough that if Faramir couldn't put him on the floor if he wanted to--only hard enough to make his point, that he wasn't letting go without a fight.

Then Faramir stopped fighting. Suddenly he gave up all resistance and allowed his tongue to respond to Aragorn's, moaning lightly. His hands moved through Aragorn's hair.

Aragorn felt a thrill of victory rush through him and deepened the kiss even further. "I love you," he whispered when he broke away for a moment of air. He bent to kiss Faramir again and again, intent on overwhelming the younger man past the point of resistance. "Don't push me away," he breathed in between kisses. "I love you, I'll always love you. Don't ever let anyone convince you otherwise."

There were tears on Aragorn's cheek that he didn't think were his. Aragorn looked at Faramir closely--he was weeping. A tremor of fear went through Aragorn--had he been wrong yet again? Or were these tears of relief?

"Faramir," he said slowly and carefully. "Look at me."

Faramir lifted a tearstained face to him. Aragorn couldn't read it. "I need to know," he said, "if you want me. Not if it's good for us to be together," he added firmly, taking Faramir's hands and holding them tightly. "Not if it's for the best or not, not whether you think I want you, or what you think you do to me: just if you want me."

Faramir stared at him for a moment, trembling. He licked a tear away from the corner of his mouth. "I want you," he said quietly, his voice shaking even more than his body, "more than I've ever wanted anything in my life."

Aragorn knocked him onto the bed with the force of his kiss this time. Faramir wrapped his arms tightly around Aragorn's neck, kissing back passionately. But even as Aragorn's body begged him to strip Faramir and take him right there, he knew it wasn't time. He needed to understand what had happened today. And Faramir needed to know how much he loved him.

So after entirely too brief a time Aragorn pulled back. Faramir was gasping, his eyes slightly dilated. "We need to talk," Aragorn said apologetically.

Faramir nodded, taking a deep breath, trying to compose himself. Aragorn grabbed the robe that was still lying on the bed and wrapped it tenderly around Faramir's shoulders. He knew if they were going to have any kind of conversation they had to get out of the bedroom, so he took Faramir's uninjured hand and pulled him upright, gently leading him into the garden.

As soon as they were seated on a bench Faramir turned to Aragorn, silently seeking affection, pressing close against him and shivering slightly. Aragorn attempted to enclose the younger man in his arms, feeling that he could not hold possibly him tightly enough. Faramir was not the only one who needed reassurance. "I love you," Aragorn said again, burying his face in Faramir's hair, praying that this time there would be an answer.

And there was. Faramir tilted his head up to look Aragorn in the eyes. "I love you too," he replied quietly, without a trace of anything Aragorn could interpret as fear or uncertainty.

Despite his noble intentions in taking Faramir into the garden, Aragorn found himself kissing him again. Faramir pressed into him, one hand tangling in his hair. Aragorn ran his hands up and down Faramir's back, both reassuringly and possessively, and felt Faramir shudder.

He was hard pressed to pull away from the kiss, but eventually he had to breathe. He rested his head atop of Faramir's to prevent diving down and kissing him again, cradling the younger man gently in his arms. Neither spoke for a moment, both regaining their breath and their composure. Then Aragorn asked quietly, "Faramir, why did you tell me you didn't want this?"

Faramir was quiet. Aragorn stroked his hair reassuringly, but he didn't retract the question. Finally, Faramir wetted his lips and said softly, "I thought--I thought I was too much a burden to you."

Aragorn's brow creased. "A burden?"

"You are the King," Faramir replied quietly. "You need to be undisturbed. I am a burden to you."

"You are a strength. I can't function without you, Faramir." Aragorn laced his fingers with the ones of Faramir's undamaged hand, still cradling the other one gently. "Having you makes me stronger, not weaker."

Faramir shook his head. It looked for a moment as though he was going to pull back again, but instead he spoke quietly. "Whatever strength I give to you is overpowered by the time I demand of you. You can't deny that things have been slowing down since we've been together. I burden you like I burdened my brother."

Aragorn narrowed his eyes. Faramir hardly ever said "my brother" instead of "Boromir;" this was not his own phrasing. "And who told you that?" he demanded gently.

Faramir looked slightly guilty. "Amlach," he admitted.

Aragorn felt a surge of anger and forced it down, determined to deal with it later. "You should have left him in Osgiliath," he contented himself with saying succinctly. Faramir shrugged awkwardly. "So this is what this has all been about? Why you pulled away from me?"

Faramir was quiet for a moment. Aragorn forced himself not to fill the silence with anxious words. Faramir was talking to him, really talking about what he felt, and Aragorn would give him as long to find the right words as he needed.

Finally Faramir faced him, his grey eyes watery. "It is not an easy thing," he said quietly, "to look at the man you love, the man you hope everything for..." His voice was trembling with emotion. "To see how much your presence distracts him, makes him less able to function. To try so hard

to help him, to be what he needs, to have everything there for him. And then, to undo everything you've tried to create by your very presence."

Aragorn was speechless. Faramir did not drop his gaze. It was clear that he meant every word he had said.

"But... but Faramir," Aragorn stammered. "How could I... how could I even hope to accomplish anything if you weren't here? It would have taken me months, gods, maybe even years, to organize this Council if you hadn't already known how to do it, if you hadn't been willing to do it. I may have served in Gondor's army once but it was decades ago, and anyway I was a soldier, I'm completely out of my depth when it comes to court and politics. But it comes to you like breathing. I would be lost without you."

"You cannot deny that I burden you at times," Faramir insisted stubbornly.

Aragorn cupped his chin in one hand, forbidding Faramir to look away.

"It is the privilege of those we love to burden us sometimes," he said firmly.

"If you never burdened me then this would not be love. And it is love, Faramir," he finished softly.

There was scant light from the moon and stars, but Faramir's eyes were catching it all, glistening with tears. "I know," he whispered. "At least... I should have known."

That was the end of Aragorn's restraint. Fortunately Faramir didn't seem to disapprove of the shift from conversation to kissing, didn't try to pull back as he frequently did, but met Aragorn kiss for kiss, holding as tightly as he was being held. Aragorn knew it was time. "Faramir," he gasped as he broke from the kiss, panting hard. "Faramir, please. Let me make love to you."

Faramir nodded, tears trembling at the corners of his eyes. Aragorn needed to further invitation to scoop his Steward into his arms and take him back inside, laying him tenderly onto the bed before crawling over him, bearing his own weight. Both their breaths were already coming short and fast; Faramir's eyes were wide with desire.

"I can't believe I'm being given this," Aragorn whispered, over and over, as he slowly undressed Faramir, slowly allowed himself to be undressed. "I can't believe you're letting me have this."

"Hush," Faramir said, sounding almost amused in the midst of their passions. "It was always yours." He would have said more, but Aragorn felt that answer worthy of a kiss so long that by the time it ended, Aragorn was already inside him and Faramir was no longer capable of speech. It was painful, but the pleasure overrode the pain so thoroughly that pain became part of the pleasure, and Aragorn muffled Faramir's screams with his own mouth so that they didn't wake the whole court. Faramir wanted desperately to speak to him, share some small part of what he was feeling, but in the end he surrendered to the waves of pleasure and let his body speak for him. Aragorn was more passionate, more attentive, than anyone had ever been to Faramir. It was no wonder that he still couldn't speak for several minutes after it was over, could do nothing but hold Aragorn's hand with his undamaged one, stroking it weakly while Aragorn watched with a mixture of love and concern.

After a moment, when Faramir's breathing had slowed to an almost normal range, Aragorn reached across his lover's body and gently touched the bandage on his left hand. "Faramir," he murmured, letting his fear and worry show in his voice. "Don't do this again."

"No." Faramir rolled closer to Aragorn, slipping his arms around the other man's neck. "No. I don't need to."