"Boromir! You're awake." Faramir was genuinely glad to see his brother up, with color returned to his face. "Are you feeling better, then?"
Boromir smiled and reached for the plate. Together they sat on the bed, and Faramir talked about his day and of their departure tomorrow. There didn't seem to be an appropriate opening for him to bring up the elf.
"Faramir, you have done well in choosing this place and in keeping us safe whilst I healed," Boromir said. "I am proud of you."
Faramir preened at the praise, thought that this was perhaps the moment to bring up his heart's desire.
"But I can tell you've been drinking, understandable on this long day. I worry. You haven't much experience in holding your ale." Boromir handed his plate and tankard to Faramir. "Ascertain where our horses are," he continued. "Gather our belongings. Be ready to ride at dawn. Do not drink more tonight, for you'll need a clear head in the morning."
For a moment, Faramir just blinked, then the latent rage rose in him again. "I am not your servant, Boromir, nor am I a child to be taken to task. I am second only to you in the ranks of Gondor and I demand that you treat me with respect. My eyes have been opened to much lately and I know what is within my rights to demand, to own."
He stood, ignoring the startled hurt on Boromir's face and the start of his apology. "I'll return with herbs for your wound and linen to clean it."
"Your brother is feeling better, yes?" Dregan inquired when Faramir reappeared.
Faramir nodded, trying to shake off his anger.
"Good, then, perhaps he will join us tonight. First, tend to his wound." He eyed Faramir slyly. "I trust you to control the elf. Show your brother your mastery."
Faramir looked beyond Dregan at the elf, now clothed and with the iron collar back in place, but with the same look of fear and sadness imperfectly hidden by his usual mask. No amount of alcohol would let Faramir fully forget it. Dregan made a swift gesture and the elf limped forward, holding the supplies.
"He is collared," Dregan said, "here is his chain. He is under your command, and you should have no trouble. Between the wound on his foot and your lusty use of him this afternoon, he is in no condition to run." Dregan slipped an arm around Faramir's shoulders. "You are powerful, Faram, to dominate an elf and reduce him to an obedient slave. I could use a man like you. Perhaps if you don't want to follow your brother into your family business, you would consider joining me?"
Toying with the end of the chain, Faramir smiled. Dregan's words were sweet salve to his battered ego, they swelled his pride and making his desire to return to Gondor waver. Here he would be appreciated and honored. Boromir and his father should not take so much for granted.
More roughly than he should, he jerked the chain, causing the elf to bump into him. Faramir glared at him as though he were to blame for all the troubles and in a way he was. In fact, perhaps he should take the elf again, just to regain that feeling of well-being and dominance, and to remind the elf of his place.
I recognize that look, I know what you want. If you touch me again, I'll gladly wrap this chain around your neck and pull with all my strength.
Behind him, Dregan smiled, watched as Faramir left the shelter, chain carelessly wrapped in hand.
Boromir had his back to the entry of the shelter for privacy as he struggled to take off his tunic. Instead of his usual flash of envy at Boromir's solid build and heavy muscles, Faramir reveled in his own strength, a different sort, perhaps, but no less valuable; to exercise it he gave the chain a sharp jerk and ordered the elf to kneel.
Puzzled, Boromir turned, tunic in his hand. He looked at Faramir, then at the kneeling figure.
"Haldir?"
The elf's head snapped up and for a moment he just stared, then, with a hoarse cry, he dropped the cloths and herb pouch and flung himself at Boromir, yanking the chain from Faramir's fingers.
"Boromir," he croaked in his constricted whisper, "Boromir."
Elbereth, please forgive me for believing you had forsaken me. For my pride last night, I did not see Boromir, only a hated man. You were right today to allow the men to punish me for my hubris. I am still unworthy of your blessings, but oh, how thankful I am to see Boromir, the one honorable man I know, the only one I could trust in this deadland marsh of men. And you've guided his feet to me.
Boromir pressed him close, murmuring his name and stroking his hair. The elf's voice was rough with tears, repeating Boromir's name, holding him as though he would never let him go, trying to be cautious of his wound.
Boromir. Never would I have believed I would see you again, though I am shamed you see me this way. You will know what has been done to me and may turn from me then, but for now I am safe.
Faramir stood stock-still, not believing the scene before him.
"Stand back, Haldir, and let me look at you," Boromir said finally, holding the elf at arm's length. "Never did I expect to see you in our woods...." He cradled Haldir's face in his large hands, turning it gently, puzzled, tracing the bruises and silver trails of tears. The smile faded. He fingered the collar around Haldir's neck and ran his hand down the length of chain. "But what deviltry is this? Faramir?"
Boromir tugged at the rope noose, unable to get even a finger between the hard knot and Haldir's throat. Locating his dagger in his pack, he pondered the best way to cut the noose without nicking the elf's skin. Haldir canted his head and offered his throat, confidence and trust that the large man would not harm him fairly radiating from his face.
The small gesture froze Faramir's blood. His elf. The elf that belonged to him, that he had taken earlier this very day. And now in Boromir's hands.
"Boromir, please help me," Haldir rasped, his voice ragged even without the noose. "Take me with you."
"Of course, Haldir, you are safe with us," Boromir pulled him close again. "This is my brother Faramir and you can trust him as you trust me. We will take you home."
His brother? Boromir's brother? Oh, I am most assuredly not safe with him. I will stay close to you, my friend, but never again will I venture near your brother. I know his cruelty as well as I know your kindness.
"Faramir," he looked up at his brother, still standing in the middle of the room, "get our horses and let us put some distance behind us before nightfall."
"No."
"Faramir?" Faramir took a step toward the elf and held out his hand for the chain. Boromir gently pushed Haldir behind him. "Faramir?"
"Boromir, you've been sleeping for two days. You don't know Dregan. Why he has this elf. He belongs to Dregan and you can't just take him. And I want him, too. I deserve an elf. You have the kingdom and I want him." Faramir paused for a breath, to try to organize his scattered thoughts, knowing he would have only moments to make Boromir understand.
In the face of Boromir's goodness and his honor, Faramir's resolve to own the elf wavered slightly. "You just don't know what it is to have him, the respect, the honor an elf slave will bring me. If he is to be taken from here, then he belongs to me. You just don't know."
No, Boromir, please don't believe any of it. While it is true I am a prisoner of Dregan, never did I belong to him. And please, please don't allow your brother to have me. He can rival Dregan in his cruelty.
Boromir stared at his brother as though he were spouting gibberish. He hugged Haldir reassuringly. "I know all I need to know, Faramir, and that is Haldir is Firstborn and our friend; he belongs to no one but himself, certainly not these bandits. Gondor has no slaves and neither will you."
Rage, constantly simmering below the surface today, returned with a vengeance in Faramir. "Perhaps, in gratitude for saving your life and giving us shelter these two days, you could see your way to getting dressed and thanking our host. Sneaking away in the night with his property would make us no better than common thieves, would it not?"
Faramir reached for Haldir's chain and pulled him from Boromir's side. "Put on your tunic and come to Dregan's shelter. Maybe you can convince him that he does not need an elf."
When he dragged the elf away from Boromir and back to Dregan's tent, the men turned to him expectantly.
"We are ready, Faram, to grant your wish," Dregan chuckled.
Haldir reacted before Faramir did, pulling at the chain and crying out for Boromir. Four men grabbed the elf and slammed him down on the table. His flailing limbs were quickly entrapped by bandits on either side of the table.
No! Boromir, come for me! Whatever they are planning, it is going to hurt badly.
"Shut him up," Dregan snarled harshly. A rough hand clapped over Haldir's mouth. He turned his frightened eyes to Faramir, silently pleading.
Help me, Faramir, you who Boromir believes to be so honorable. Prove yourself so now and help me.
Faramir stood frozen to the spot. Haldir looked away and struggled harder, but futilely, to free himself.
"Our friend Faram complained earlier than he could not see the elf's face because of his hair." There was some mean laughter from the men gathered around the table, restraining Haldir. "And because we would like Faram to be happy enough to stay with us, we will fulfill his wish."
Dregan grabbed Haldir's hair in a brutal grip and with a great dagger hacked off a long length of it. Haldir screamed behind the hand that covered his mouth and tried desperately to tear his hair free from Dregan's grip.
No, not my hair, not my braids, not what marks me as a guardian of the wood. However will I go home again to serve if it is so apparent I cannot defend myself against mere bandits. Please do not do this, leave me some shreds of dignity. Boromir, come for me!
One of the soldiers punched the elf full in the face and blood spurted from his nose. His thrashing ceased and Dregan's knife rose again and hacked off the remaining length, the blade slicing the elf's shoulder.
"There, Faram," Dregan lifted Haldir's chin, gesturing to the men to let him go. "Now his face is visible to you. Have you another request? Your crest carved here, perhaps?" His dangerously long blade traced a fine line from Haldir's neck down his chest. Blood welled up in its wake.
His next sentence was lost in a gurgle of blood. A vicious-looking knife protruded from his throat and his hand scrabbled at it in a vain attempt to pull it out. Haldir slipped from his grasp and slid off the table.
Dregan's men stared for a moment, unable to believe their eyes, jumping when the man at the end of the table cried out and fell to the ground.
All eyes swung to the entrance where Boromir stood, killing sword in hand, another dagger visible in his belt. Despite swaying a bit and obviously favoring his left side he looked very dangerous, a man to be feared. Swinging in short, controlled thrusts, Boromir dispatched the next two men swiftly and stalked towards the others. Without their leader to command them, the men scattered, not even bothering to pick up swords to defend their home, pushing past Faramir in their eagerness to flee the shelter.
Boromir knelt by Haldir, cradling the elf to his chest. The elf's eyes were wild and unfocused, and he was tremblingly visibly, his mouth working but without sound. "Shh, Haldir, I am here. Dregan is dead, no one will hurt you now. Hush."
I hear you, my Boromir, but it is though you are far away. I fear this is a dream and I will awake in Dregan's hands still. Stay with me so that I know you really exist. Don't take your hands from me.
"Faramir, get our horses, let us leave this place. Gather up anything that can be of use. But first find the keys to these accursed chains."
Their ride away from the camp was silent but swift. Boromir held Haldir close to him and led the way, not looking back at Faramir. Each brother was lost in his own thoughts.
He just stood there, Boromir thought, bewildered at the disloyalty. He lifted no hand to stop Dregan's abuse of Haldir nor one to aid me in rousting the bandits.
I did nothing, Faramir cringed. The sadness and disappointment in Boromir's eyes is a memory I can not erase.
They did not ride long, for the night was on them and neither Boromir nor Haldir was in any shape to continue. Finding a small clearing near the top of the hill, they quickly, silently, set up camp. Faramir gathered wood and lit a small fire. Boromir washed the worst of the blood from the elf's face and neck, and brushed back his short, ragged hair from his shoulders. Haldir stayed close to Boromir, eyes carefully avoiding Faramir.
His brother. I cannot believe these two are brothers. One so honorable and the other not. I fear Faramir still, to my shame. He knows what was done to me, he did it himself, though I do not think he has yet told Boromir. And I dread Boromir's disgust and revulsion with me when he does find out.
When at last the bedrolls were set up and their meager meal heating, Boromir cleared his throat and looked at Faramir for the first time since they left camp. Haldir was nestled against him, his hand clutching Boromir's tunic, eyes downcast.
These may be my last moments with Boromir, if Faramir decides to tell him of the shameful things done to me. If he leaves me alone now, it will be the one blow my heart cannot withstand.
"Faramir," Boromir began, "I can't begin to understand what happened whilst we were at that camp. I can only presume you were convinced to act in a manner I know is unworthy of you. Dregan presented you with a different way of life and it appealed to you, I'm guessing. You may have even thought it would be a better life than what awaits you in Gondor." No answer, so Boromir prompted, "Faramir?"
The younger man nodded, rather shame-faced but still with a slight streak of rebellion. He wanted the elf. As bad as he felt about his momentary lapse in judgment regarding Dregan, it in no way lessened his desire to possess the elf, and to watch him cling to Boromir, to see the way his eyes followed him everywhere, sent a spike of red-hot jealousy through Faramir's heart.
Receiving no response from his brother, Boromir sighed heavily. Haldir shifted uneasily, but Boromir reached over to caress his cheek and pull him close. "It's all right, Haldir," he smiled reassuringly.
It's not, Boromir. It is now, but it won't be for long. Men will remain loyal to each other, especially brothers, and I have no claim on you but friendship. Blood will triumph.
"It's all right, Haldir." Through the night, Faramir could hear Boromir repeat those words as he lay on his uninjured side, arms around the elf pressed tight against his large body, face hidden in Boromir's neck.
Anger at Boromir for usurping his elf tangled with Faramir's guilt over what he had done, what he wanted warred with what he knew was right, lust clashed with honor, until he was unable to find any comfort or sleep.
Visions of the elf on Dregan's fur-covered pallet tortured Faramir with ugly self-revelations. They brought forth all the ugly feelings he had discovered about himself. That he was a man who took great, dark pleasure in the silent, enforced submission of another. That for him, it was an obsession, the thrill of kneeling above the naked, chained body, knowing he could take his pleasure by force, as fast, as hard, as often as he wished. He enjoyed the elf's fear, the pain he inflicted. He once thought he might never grow tired of that, but now....
But now, he watched Boromir cradle Haldir tenderly to ease him to sleep, stroking his short hair and abused back gently, whispering softly to him. He watched Haldir's shoulders shake with silent sobs, reaching up to touch Boromir's face as if to reassure himself it was truly him, nestling closer still.
What would it be like to have the elf look at him, not with fear or hate, but as he looked at Boromir now? What would the elf be like as a friend, not a possession? As a lover, not a slave? To be in bed willingly, not chained? What would it be like to give him pleasure, not just take pleasure from him?
He tossed and turned, but sleep would not come to Faramir that night.
I hear you, Faramir, for I cannot sleep either. What I do not know is if you are sorry for what you did or if you're only sorry it is now beyond your reach.
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