Author's Notes: Just a little thing I had to get out of my system. I love Faramir to death! Especially his movie-portayal. There seems to be a big lack in them...I dunno. But one I love is Absence of Fear on really good. Ok, enjoy and tell me what you think!
Summary: The firstborn of Denethor: obnoxious, vain Boromir returns from battle defeated, humbled and blind. Out of vengeance, no one aids him. But suddenly, a voice earnestly calls out to him and Boromir falls in love. BROTHERCEST; RAPE; RATED MATURE
Thine Eyes Hath Seen
Boromir's mind drifted back into consciousness. His eyes fluttered open and he blinked a few times. Why was it so dark? He grasped at any memory that would tell him where he was, but his memory failed to aid him. He tried to lift himself up with his arms but they wouldn't move. It seemed his entire body was sore.
There was a buzzing in his ear and he shook his head a little from side to side. In a few moments, the buzzing softened and he could hear voices. He listened a little to the fluttering of clothes and the breaths of the Men and he counted that there were three in the room.
"We were overtaken, my Lord," said a raspy voice that Boromir recognized as Henderon, his second-in-command. At the sound of his voice, his mind played forth a recollection of the happenings of the day before.
"A multitude of wildmen attacked from the woodlands of the South," Henderon was saying. "We slew as many as possible but eventually it was vital to leave immediately ere we all be murdered. On our pathway back, we were ambushed and Captain Boromir hit squarely in the temple and some other spot. We slew the ambush and did not rest until we reached Minas Tirith."
"And do you swear that you did all you could for Boromir after he was hit?" said the angry voice of his father.
"I swear it, my Lord. If anything else could have been done, it would have been known only to the Elves."
Boromir could hear his father murmur something angry before he released Henderon from the room. He approached him and said his name. "Boromir, are you waken yet?"
He grasped for his voice and was happy when he found it. "Father..."
"Look at me, my son," Denethor said with heartfelt sorrow. Boromir opened his eyes and was surprised when he met with complete blackness once again. "What is wrong with his pupils!"
A cold hand parted his eyelids and he felt a presence very close to his face. "What do you see?" asked the Healer.
"Nothing."
The Healer must have peered closer for Boromir felt his breath on his skin. "It appears the Lord Boromir is suffering from blindness. Whether temporary or permanent I do not know. Yet I venture to guess temporary."
"What can we do to help him?"
The Healer was quiet. Then he said, "For now leave him be. If his eyesight returns, it will not be for a bit. Until it does return, we cannot do anything more for him."
Days passed and Boromir's blackness was uninterrupted. No one came to ease his boredom except those who brought him food and water. He found myself feeling quite dirty from lack of bath, but none wanted to venture the trouble of bathing him.
The door of room opened and in entered Faramir. He carried a tray of breakfast in. He had just returned from a scouting and heard about his brother's condition. Unfortunately, Faramir was also suffering from a mild cold that had his voice scratchy.
"Boromir?" he said, placing the tray down on the table. "I've brought you breakfast."
Boromir sat up and looked to the direction of the voice. "Thank you," he mumbled.
"How are you faring?" The voice was soft and pleasant, with a smudge of stuffiness and scratch. It was very familiar, but with the turn of events, Boromir was not aware enough to comprehend it.
Boromir gruffly accepted the platter. He felt the Man waiting. "Why are you still here?" he asked.
Faramir frowned. "I'm sorry. I'll leave now." He turned around and made to exit.
"No! No." Boromir sighed. "I meant... Why did you not leave like all the others? Leaving me to eat while they busied themselves with other matters?"
"I wished to see how you were doing. Certainly, inability of sight must be frustrating and boredom must face you constantly. I had time and so I supposed I could help ease the tension."
Boromir ate quietly. He liked this Man. "Will you be serving me breakfast every morning?" he asked hopefully.
"If at all possible." Faramir knew that the others wished not to serve their Lord as revenge for the countless times he became obstreperous. Boromir finished his breakfast and handed the tray back to Faramir in the wrong direction. Faramir smuggled a smile as he walked to the other side to take the tray. "Have a good day."
"The sky is blue today. As blue as water and the clouds are fluffed and white as snow," Faramir said when he entered the room one morning.
"Good weather for hunting," Boromir said. He had awoken quite grouchy. But after hearing the voice of his visitor, he was overcome with pleasantness.
"Yes, but instead a group has been sent out to fight a group of Orcs heading this way."
Boromir sighed. He heard the other rustling a bit and knew that this information upset him. "What's wrong?"
Faramir looked up, surprised. "Nothing, my Lord." Boromir knew this was not true but did not press him. Faramir stayed quiet in thought until he said, "You are so friendly, talking to strangers and revealing so many things to them when you are not sure whether they be friend or foe. For others, this blindness would frustrate them to no end to the point of venting anger instead of cheerful conversations."
"Do not say to me these things for you also would stay cheerful," Boromir pointed out. "I am not always friendly. Yet you somehow bring out the best in people. As for this blindness..."
"For one, blindness will bring out the best in other people," Faramir quoted from his good wizard friend.
Boromir smiled. "That's true."
Boromir enjoyed the times he spent with this mystery Man. He had not yet asked him his name, but it was first on his list the next time he came. It seemed that Boromir had known this man his entire life, yet it was different now.
There appeared a great tranquility that he himself lacked that he found in the visitor. Yet there was also a sorrow. He heard footsteps approaching and he sat up with eagerness. But his heart fell when he heard that the steps were far too heavy to be his mystery guest.
"Boromir, how are you faring lately?" Denethor asked and sat on the bed.
"Better than before," Boromir admitted. "I am beginning to see shapes and light. My vision will return shortly."
"I am glad to hear it." Denethor was quiet for a moment for a moment before there came another that entered the room.
"My...My Lord," said the person and Boromir recognized it as the Man who had made his sick days worthwhile.
He also realized that his father's voice had gone icy cold. "What are you doing here?"
"I bring Boromir his lunch, my Lord." His voice had gone timid and Boromir wanted desperately to see the Man's face.
Denethor barked, "Well now that you have, leave! Can you not see that I am in conference with my son?"
Faramir placed the tray down and turned away quickly. When he had left, Denethor turned back to Boromir. "Do not taint yourself with weaklings, Boromir. They can be the death of you."
Boromir was quiet in thought. Who could it be that his father hated him so?
Faramir sat silent in his room. He was wondering briefly about his father and brother. They were the ones he loved most in the world. Yet he loved them so differently. Both he would die for. There were few friends whom he would not die for, Faramir realized.
Yet with Denethor and Boromir he certainly would not hesitate. He wondered if they would do the same. As for Denethor, Faramir knew he was a mistake. Perhaps dying would be better for Denethor to bare; rather than have a weak son, have none at all. After all, he had Boromir. What use was a son, no matter how great his heart or how kindly his soul?
And Boromir... Faramir knew not what to think of Boromir. He was his role model. Surely, Boromir used to be cold, prideful, and vain like his father. But he always had a soft spot for his little brother. Now, Boromir appeared so fragile, so needy. It was a part of him Faramir had never seen before. A strange feeling was erupting from his heart and he was afraid to know what it was.
Faramir sighed and took off his tunic. Absentmindedly, he traced the scars that decorated his torso. A knock came on the door and without permission, the knocker came in. It was Denethor. He shut the door behind him and it clicked soundlessly.
"Father..."
"Do not call me by that name, Faramir," Denethor whispered raspily. He approached the boy and also traced the scars but with a wicked smile.
Faramir tensed. He knew what was to come. These moments were those he feared most. Trapped in the night, his cries echoing to nothing. No one caring. And the excruciating pain that his own father forced on him. Yet how could he resist? He loved his father and was never able to please him in anything else. Where Boromir was commanding and forceful, Faramir was soft and submissive. Denethor knew this.
He pushed his son onto the bed and forced himself onto him. Rough hands touched and caressed smooth skin. Fingers intertwined with soft hair. Faramir's face pressed against his pillows and he felt his pants coming off. Cold hands penetrated his hole and without any lubrication, he felt his father pushing into him.
Tears leaked from his grey eyes and he bit his tongue to force the pain away. He heard the pleasurable moans of Denethor and wanted to leave everything behind, but the pain that overcame his body was unbearable.
Denethor thrust in and out, unaware of his son's discomfort. Even if he did know, he did not care. He felt warmth surround his manhood. He had to admit that Faramir was very beautiful and had inherited looks from his wife. Denethor reached his climax and moaned bitterly.
He got up slowly and cleaned himself up. Without a glance at Faramir, he fixed himself and left the room. He never saw the tears his son had. The tears Faramir had to bear in order to please his father.
The following evening, Faramir brought supper to Boromir's room. He had been moved from the Healer's room on account of 'no privacy' to his own room again. Personally, Faramir preferred the solitude as well. "Good evening, my Lord." Faramir himself was afraid of revealing himself to Boromir. The many discussions they had while Boromir was blind were very sincere and no one else knew them. Faramir feared that if Boromir knew who he was, he would not think the same of him again.
"Are you well?" Boromir asked, hearing Faramir enter. "I missed you this morning." He heard the other move about and wanted to know his name. He needed a name to put in his head, it would be proof that he wasn't imagining this delightful person. Yet, if he asked a name and it was one whom he knew previously, things would become tense between them. So Boromir stayed silent.
Faramir was quiet. He had felt ill that morning, sickened from the night's events and in too much pain to move. "I overslept. So I made it priority to come tonight."
Boromir ate silently. "Are you hungry?" he asked Faramir.
"No, thank you. How is your sight? Better?"
Boromir smiled. "I can see shapes now and pale colors. At this rate, my sight will return to me in no time."
Faramir was happy. "That is good."
"Or perhaps, not." Boromir hesitated. "If my eyesight returns to me, we will not have anymore wonderful conversations."
"I'm sure you'll bare it fine," Faramir replied. "You will find many others that are far better company than me."
"Do not put yourself down like that," Boromir chastised. "I have met no better Man whom I have ever spoken to. None either who would take time out of their lives to visit me."
He finished eating and handed his tray back to Faramir, but to the right side this time. Before the other left, however, he found himself asking a difficult question. "Will you help me tonight? I am in dire need of bathing."
Faramir swallowed a lump in his throat but found no harm in his brother's request. Helping Boromir up, he led him to the bathing room and helped his brother strip.
Faramir attempted not to look at the dark tan skin of Boromir and how finely his muscles were outlined. Not only were his muscles impressive, but also his manhood. He helped him slip into the warm water and put the clothes away.
"Will you not join me?" Boromir asked.
Faramir wasn't sure what to do. "If my Lord wishes..." Boromir nodded and watched as Faramir stripped himself slowly. Although he could not see, the rhythmetic movements of the other were hypnotizing. Faramir hesitated, but also slipped into the water.
First, Faramir helped shampoo Boromir's dark lanky hair. Then he grabbed a bar of soap and began to wash Boromir. The soap brought about a sweet aroma and Boromir leaned into the touch. He felt soft, cold hands massage his back and he moaned softly.
Suddenly, Boromir turned around and grabbed Faramir's hands. "Your hands are so cold," he murmured delicately and brought them to his lips. One large hand reached out to touch Faramir's face and it cupped his cheek. Boromir's thumb traced Faramir's jawline and his lips, reaching into his hair. Slowly, with feather touches, his hand swept downward until it touched Faramir's manhood underwater.
He felt Faramir's skin tingle and he chuckled as he leaned in for kiss. Faramir's lips were soft and supple. Boromir opened his mouth and let his tongue sweep into Faramir's hesitating mouth. He tasted honey and a sweet sensation none of which he had ever tasted in his past lovers, men and women alike. He teased the tongue of Faramir and smiled into the kiss. He held Faramir's hand and moved it towards his own manhood. He let Faramir finger the erection and he imagined Faramir's wide look.
Squinting, Boromir saw the edge of the bath and climbed over it, directing Faramir over it as well. He could see Faramir's shape and admired it. Boromir kissed the Man again, enjoying the taste of him immensely.
Faramir was loosening himself. Boromir's kisses were none of which he had ever been given. He had never been exactly a player in the field of love and definitely did not have as many lovers as his brother did. He knew what all this foreplay was leading up to. He could stay and please his brother, like he did with his father. But could he not also run off? Boromir did not know it was him.
Yet, Faramir did long to be with Boromir. He was always good at judging people and knew that Boromir was being sincere. He knew that if he wanted to stop, Boromir would comply.
Boromir let his rough hands trace his lover's body and was pleased. This Man was definitely one to be admire, with soft smooth skin and an athletic physique. He let himself wonder again who it could possibly be. "What is your name?" he asked as he let his tongue trace the Man's chest. When there was no answer, he asked again and nipped a nipple.
Faramir let out a small cry. "I cannot tell you."
"Cannot or will not?" Boromir asked playfully, nipping the other nipple with a hand as his tongue traced Faramir's navel. When Faramir failed to answer, he let his tongue go down and trace his manhood.
"Will not!" Faramir cried through pants.
"Did I know you previously?"
"Yes," Faramir answered softly while his manhood tingled.
Boromir kissed him again and it was more forceful this time. His hands were touching all over the place. Faramir rather liked this feeling. "One more question then... May I enter you?"
Faramir felt the tension in the air and knew Boromir was sincere in waiting for an answer. What did he really want? Faramir asked himself. Did he want his brother to have sex with him...or did he want the pleasurable touches to go away?
"Yes."
Boromir smiled and promised to Faramir he would not hurt him. He took the shampoo and let it run over his fingers as he placed one in Faramir's hole. He felt Faramir tense and had a suspicion, but it did not confirm until he put in the second and third finger.
"You have been with someone recently," Boromir observed. "This will hurt. Do you wish me to continue?"
Already, Faramir felt pain residing inside him. But he knew what he wanted. He wanted Denethor's touches to begone. "Please."
Boromir stretched him out, then bathed his erection with shampoo. He lifted Faramir's legs over his shoulder and aimed his manhood for the hole before he slipped in slowly, gently. He heard Faramir yelp and it hurt his heart.
Slowly, he let himself thrust gently, aiming for Faramir's pleasure spot. When yelps became moans, Boromir let himself get rougher. He pulled his manhood completely out and pushed it back in hard until it hit the wetness of his balls. He felt Faramir's hands scratching his back. Boromir let his head lean back in pleasure as he pumped in and out while he gave Faramir a hand job.
At both of their climaxes, Boromir swept down and gave Faramir a loving kiss, filled with passion. "I love you." He wasn't sure whether it was him who said it or Faramir. Having came, Boromir pulled out of Faramir.
They both went back into the bath and cleansed themselves. They came out and dried themselves and went back to Boromir's room. Faramir felt uncomfortable walking, but he didn't regret the experience. Entering Boromir's room, he took the tray and was about to leave.
"Please, stay with me tonight." Boromir was looking his way with a feeling Faramir did not recognize.
Faramir looked away. "I don't know about this."
Boromir was not going to let Faramir leave the room that night. He could either gently persuade him or force him, as his Lord. Yet he could not find himself forcing the boy against his will.
Finally, Faramir agreed to return after he brought the tray down. When he returned, Boromir made room for him in the king-sized bed. Faramir slipped in and Boromir let his arm wound around him.
"I have never felt this way about anyone in my life," Boromir admitted as he kissed Faramir passionately. "Although I cannot see your face, I know you are beautiful."
"You do not know for sure." Faramir said sadly. "I could be uglier than a hag or perhaps deformed in some way. You do not truly wish to love me."
"Are you admitting it to me or trying to find an excuse not to be with me?" Boromir responded just as lovingly. "Be it that you are not as pleasing to the eye as I am, I would still not change my love for you."
"I am glad to hear it," Faramir said and he suddenly knew what the odd feeling was that he had been feeling. It was the same feeling that pushed him to continue visiting Boromir everyday. "Because I love you too, Boromir son of Denethor."
Boromir smiled but suddenly, a miracle was happening. The colors of the room magnified around him and he looked at his lover. "I can see...Your hair is a soft brown, is it not? Almost blond."
Faramir froze. He looked away. "Sleep, you are weary. I will return, I must use the restroom." He got out of the bed but felt Boromir's grip on his wrist.
"Will you promise to return tonight?"
Faramir looked away. "As soon as possible," he replied and slipped away. Truthfully, he had no intention of ever seeing Boromir again while he was blind. He was afraid of what would happen if others found out.
He hurriedly made for his room and after he locked his door, he saw someone already sitting on his bed. "You are late, Faramir," Denethor said hatefully. He pulled Faramir towards him and kissed him roughly.
Faramir tore away. "No! Please..."
"Do not argue with your king, lest you commit treason," Denethor said and he pushed Faramir down onto the bed. Yet, Faramir kicked at him. Denethor rewarded him with a slap. Then, he quickly tore at Faramir's clothes until it was gone.
"You are beautiful," Denethor murmured. He stripped himself and Faramir saw the erecting manhood. Denethor stuck it in his son's mouth and moaned. "Suck," he said commandingly.
Faramir felt the tip all the way at the back of his throat. Slowly, he sucked and was rewarded with his father's pleased face. His father pulled out and forced Faramir to touch him. When Faramir failed to do so, he rummaged in his robes and found a knife.
"Looks like we'll need a bit of persuasion tonight," Denethor said, not caring about his son's tear-streaked face.
Boromir faced a week without Faramir ever returning. He questioned all those who came with the tray, but since he did not know the name, they failed him with information.
One morning, he awoke and heard a voice speak to him. He recognized it as Gandalf, the Wizard. "Mithrandir," he greeted. Gandalf was greatly respected by his brother, Faramir.
"I come a bit late, but perhaps it will still help you if I speed up the healing process, Boromir," Gandalf said and he said some incantation and when Boromir blinked, his sight returned to him.
After thanking Gandalf, the Wizard himself chuckled. "I'm sure you do not wish to be here. Go on and do what you have been waiting for since the beginning of your trauma."
Boromir, though amazed, did not say anything except another appreciation of gratitude and he left the room. Many people congratulated him and extended sympathies but he did not care for them.
He saw his father as well, but ran past him. He also saw his brother and passed him as well. While he ran, he wondered why his brother never visited him, even though he was home.
Boromir ran to the kitchens and saw his tray being prepared. "Do not prepare the tray for me, for I am well now." The cooks looked astonished and they were happy for him.
"Forget it, I have a few questions to ask. First, how long was Faramir home?"
The cooks glanced at each other. Finally, one said, "A long time, my Lord. He returned a few days after you became ill. I remember he was ill himself."
"And why had he not visited me in the whole time I was ill?" Boromir asked angrily. Faramir had always appeared to look up to him, but to not even visit him when he was not well was a bit unbelievable.
"Excuse me, my Lord," said the head chef, "but Faramir has been visiting you everyday. He brings most of your trays up and down, except for the last few days it seems."
Boromir let this process and he froze. The cooks looked at him unsurely before he turned and bolted. He sprinted across corridors and found Faramir in his room. His brother looked up. "I have to speak to you," Boromir said, panting.
Faramir stood up when Boromir looked as if he were going to faint. He did and fell in Faramir's arms. After a moment, Boromir stood up groggily and stared at Faramir. He always did love his brother's face. He lifted a hand up to cup his cheek and saw how it fit perfectly.
"Boromir, what are you doing?" Faramir asked uncomfortably. Surely, his brother could not have known already.
After hearing his voice, Boromir was sure. "It is you," he said and embraced him. He noticed how tense his brother was. "What's wrong?"
"We can't do this, Boromir," Faramir said tearfully, lying. "People will talk. You are an important Man. You will be looked down upon."
"Tell me why I should care. Kisses have never been so sweet, my heart will never have hurt as bad as it will if you turn me away." Boromir lifted Faramir's chin and gazed into his eyes. "I meant what I said. I love you."
Faramir's eyes were watery. "Boromir. I love you too. But I can't!" His voice dropped and he whispered, almost afraid, "I'm scared!"
Boromir remembered suddenly that his brother had been with someone a few days ago other than himself. "Who is it? Who is haunting you? Tell me and I'll kill him."
"No. You cannot kill one whom I love. He will come for me again and again. But you cannot kill him," Faramir murmured softly through his cracked voice. Boromir realized why he hadn't known it was Faramir the moment he heard his voice. Faramir's illness made his voice scratchy and different sounding - not at all like his usual pleasant voice.
After hearing Faramir's words, Boromir grew angry. "Surely you do not love this penetrator enough that you will protect him? You love him more than me?" Not hearing a response, Boromir fled the room.
That night, Boromir could not sleep. He knew he would not be able to rest until he spoke to Faramir again. He stood from his bed and wore a robe before he set out for his brother's room.
Stopping outside the room, he heard voices. Through the thickness of the door, he could not tell whom they belonged to.
"Please stop. I beg of you," came a soft voice that Boromir was automatically able to tell as Faramir's. Was he being forced? Boromir grew angry at the thought. He slowly withdrew his knife.
"In need of more persuasion again tonight? Just accept the fact that I will take you every night. Look forward to it. No other will want you after this." He heard the unsheathing of a knife and suddenly, Faramir's loud pained cry.
Boromir entered the room loudly and jumped on the man who was assaulting his lover. A knife was aimed at his face and he brushed it away until his own knife came to rest at the man's throat.
"Father!" Boromir cried. "Why!"
Denethor appeared just as surprised as Boromir. But then his face was filled with malice. "Why rescue this pathetic excuse for a human being?" he asked. "He has no further use in this world other than for our pleasure. If you wish a turn, I will grant it to you."
Boromir let the knife dig deeper. "How long have you been raping my brother?"
"Rape? The little whore enjoys it. Do not condemn me for it."
"How long!" Boromir drew blood.
"Years," Denethor choked out. Boromir let his eyes sweep to Faramir and saw him looking away, blood running down his chest and legs. How beautiful he looked, and how he was forsaken. Boromir regretted not have finding out sooner.
"Your fate rests with Faramir's decision," Boromir growled and he gestured for Faramir to come forward. Boromir lifted his knife and held his brother. "What would you have me do with this bastard? Kill him? Or let him live this miserable life?"
Denethor choked with fear. "You cannot kill your own father, Boromir. Surely you do not hold this harlot above me?"
Boromir ignored him and turned to his brother. "Do not kill him," Faramir said. "For then I would not be able to live peacefully." Boromir nodded and slowly got off his father. Denethor got up quickly and ran away. Boromir shut the door after him.
He then looked at Faramir. "I must tell you something before I leave." Faramir looked at him. The two worked together to clean the blood off him. Afterwards, Boromir spoke again. "I bless this blindness because it brought out the best in other people. Without it, I would never have met you in the true light. And if you leave, I would never be able to love another."
"Even if I never kissed you again, never touched you again, I would still love you with all that I have. Brother or not. You say you do not wish to shame me? Nothing would shame me more than standing at the altar with a woman I do not love. Kissing a woman I have never felt this intense feeling for."
Faramir looked at him. For a moment, Boromir thought he would reject him again. But then Faramir smiled and said softly, invitingly, "Then will you stay with me tonight?"
Boromir nodded and chuckled. When Faramir asked why he was laughing, he simply answered, "Because today, life is good." And then he kissed Faramir.
Please tell me what you think. I haven't written in a while so this may be fairly rough. Hope you liked it!