Title: My Justice
Series: None, but it fits nicely in to the Blood, Moon and Mithril universe.
Author: Camilla
E-mail:verdandeurdarbrunn@hotmail.com
Pairing: Haldir/Faramir (Haldir/Boromir, Haldir/Denethor)
Rating: NC-17
Summary: A Gondorian (elven?) take on Cinderella.
Disclaimers: Not mine.
Notes: Set before the Fellowship. Boromir and Faramir are 5-10 years younger.
Warnings: Some angst, mild violence, slightly non-con.

Thanks to Sue for betaing this for me.



I

The Steward of Gondor had a wide smile on his face when he greeted the cool
Lorien Elf. One had to step very close to notice the uncertainty and
surprise flaring in his eyes, causing the amused smile on the red cloaked
Elf's fair features. Haldir's eyes never missed a thing.  Not a one bead of
sweat on the mighty Lord's forehead.

"Denethor, Lord!" he greeted him. "The Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel
send their Greetings."

"So do I welcome you, in the name of your Lord and Lady, Haldir of the
Galadhrim," Denethor bowed back.

It had been years since they greeted each other like this.
Denethor had become an old man since then. Only his straight back and stiff
neck were the same, Haldir mused. His once so raven black hair had taken a
shade between silver and steel, his skin an ashen hue, stretched over the
bones.Erasing the traces of youth.
Haldir...was unchanged. Young and beautiful as ever. Skin like melted
cream, indigo eyes, dark as night. Red, moist lips glimmering temptingly
before the Lord's eyes. His elven hair a silvery mane of soft, shimmering
locks. A strong, firm body, filled with feline grace that seemed to mock the old man's 
graying skin over weakened muscles...

It hadn't always been like this. Once the man's body had been strong and
able to match the elven one, at least for a few of years.

They faded so quickly, the elven warrior mused. Suddenly all their strength
was gone, nothing left but an empty shell of what once was...
only the pride remained unchanged.

He didn't like to be here, but once every fifty years it was his duty. Not
only was it tradition; it was the time it took for Lord Celeborn to grow
tired of unsolved matters between the Elven Realm and the Kingdom of Men,
and it was how long it took for the people of Lorien to wish for new fur
linings for their cloaks and winter blankets.  And the best fur available
was that from the Gondorian huntsmen. So every fifty years Haldir had to
leave his beloved wood and go to the Steward of Gondor. Being the only one
of the
 Galadhrim who knew the common tongue, Haldir had taken this task upon
himself,
although it had been anything but pleasant, at least not for the last
hundred years...- Something had happened to the line of Gondorian Stewards,
evidence, in Haldir's opinion, of how far the races of Men and Elves had
drifted apart. Traveling here had become a risk. Not because of any
hostility, but because of a certain type of friendliness.  A friendliness
Haldir would rather not receive.

"You look young as ever," The Steward said, letting his eyes slide slowly
over Haldir's body. "Still the same...beauty, as you always were."

Haldir did not respond, he just stood there pretending not to have heard, or seen, the man.

"It has been a while," the Gondorian continued."Although I can imagine it
being but a week or so for you, Immortal."

Haldir smiled slightly and gathered his red robes around his body;

"A bit more than a week, my Lord," he replied. "But yes, I do remember the
last time we met...clearly," he added.  There was a distinctive warning in
his voice but the man didn't seem to notice. He had taken his seat again. Now he 
measured the elf with seemingly neutral eyes while his finger tapped against his lower 
lip.
Denethor had always been a dark, brooding man. In his youth it had given him an aura of 
confidence, of authority. Now, when he was slowly fading, it gave his face a hard 
expression, but there was more to it as well Haldir's sharp elven eyes noticed. Something 
new, something unpredictable in his eyes that had always been there, but now seemed to 
bloom. It was they called the influence of the Moon. Night shades of the human nature; 
thoughts that dwelt in the dark. In Denethor, these shadows had reached the corners of his 
eyes.

Haldir took a look around.  The absent King's Hall had become a dark place.
The torchlight didn't seem to reach the corners. A place for ghosts, Haldir
thought. For ghosts and madness...And the man, the Steward himself, clad in grey and 
black robes, replacing the blue and purple ones from the past.

"I am surprised then, if your memory is so good, Galadhrim, that you
chose to come this time," Denethor spoke.

Haldir smiled.

" I fear no man, my lord." he said with a hard expression. " And as the
years have passed, " he continued. " I assumed that Denethor of
Gondor had changed with them..."

"Are you accusing me, Elf?!" The Steward burst out. His voice was a mixture
of anger and amusement.

" No..." Haldir answered. " Who am I to make accusations against you, Lord
of Men?"

Denethor bent forward in the chair. His eyes were more alive now. He's
playing a game, Haldir thought. He thinks this a game...

" Do not think I don't recognize sarcasm when I hear it." The Gondorian
spoke. " But we have our past, Elf, that is true. Let it not come between us and our 
dealings this time..." he begged. "We don't often see elves in Minas Tirith..." he trailed 
off, but kept watching Haldir with an almost dreamlike expression on his stern face.

"Of course," Haldir bowed, noticing the smoke that rose from the thick white candles in 
the hall.  The distinct smell of men that filled the air.

"Always so courteous, aren't you Haldir?" The Steward smiled and laced his
fingers in his lap. " But I, for one, am glad to see you," he continued.
"You will eat with me and my family tonight...I have sons now..."

"I know," Haldir arched his eyebrows. " Some news still finds its way in
among the Mallorn trunks of  the Golden Wood..."

"Really? " The Steward smiled again, his slightly unnerving, not at all
comforting smile. "I didn't think time existed there," he said. "Look at
*you*..." he gestured towards Haldir. "It's like a memory from my youth has
come to life in front of me...while I,...I am growing old."

"Such are the natures of Elves and Men," Haldir said.  He was weary now and
eager to get this meeting over with.

Finally the Gondorian gestured for one of his servants to take Haldir to his room. Up all 
those wide stairs, where the dark corners seemed to have
increased in number since the last time Haldir was there. Something dark and old was 
festering in the castle walls. He could feel it and the old
memories that came rushing back did nothing to restore his peace. He didn't
like this city, its people or its customs. Least of all did he like its
ruler, the man with the hungry gaze downstairs.

*******************

Haldir walked slowly down the stairs. His hands adjusting the mithril clasps on his grey, 
velvet robe. He did not look forward to this night, but all courtesy and the honor of 
Lorien required it of him. He wondered about the Steward's late wife. Rumors said that 
she had withered and died here in this city after marrying Denethor. But then again, 
Haldir did not listen to
rumors...

He reached the stone walled hall and rounded the corner to the corridor
leading tothe private dining room. He had walked this path many times before. Dined 
with Gondorian Stewards of different flavors. He knew this castle by heart.

Suddenly he noticed a youth standing in the corridor before him. He stood
completely still in front of a window, watching the sunset. Haldir was about to pass by 
him when something caught his attention.  An expression on
handsome young man's face. So proud, yet so vulnerable. It was captivating,
the way the melancholia rippled across his face, softening the noble
features. Dark shadows softly playing in his eyes...dark blue, almost elven
in color. Haldir did not care much for Men, and he hardly ever found them
fascinating or fair to look at, but this one...this one held something.  A
depth that was such a contrast to his youth that Haldir found himself
temporarily frozen to the floor along side him.  Just watching him as the
last rays of sun caught in his hair and made it burn a coppery hue. He
noticed the clenched fists by the youth's side - and more disturbingly, the
burgundy and brown colors of the Steward's House displayed on his
clothing...

"Ah!" a voice startled him. "You have met my youngest son." Denethor came
rushing down the corridor, dressed in flowing robes of purple and black.
"Faramir!" he said, "what do you make of our elven guest?"

The young man spun around, his eyes met his father's, then they fell on
Haldir and widened in surprise.

"I...I...did not see him," the young man admitted.

"You didn't let him sneak upon you, did you?" The Steward mocked, "they are
silent, the elves...dangerously so..." he added., "all soldiers of Gondor know that."

The young man, Faramir, didn't seem to hear him. His eyes were on Haldir.  A curious 
gaze that took in everything about him. Everything, from his
tall, slender build, to the pale, glowing skin, to the silvery hair, through to the tips of his 
pointed ears.

"Greetings, Faramir of Gondor" Haldir bowed low to the youth, trying to
fight off a curious disappointment that this boy was kin to the man he
loathed so. "I am Haldir," he continued. "Galadhrim of Lorien. Captain of
the Lady's Guard and  March Warden of the Wood."

"Greetings, Haldir of Lorien," Faramir bowed back. All of it polite enough
but Haldir could not help but notice the apparent surprise in the young one's eyes.

"Have you never seen an elf before?" he asked kindly.

"Not so close..." Faramir admitted with a shy smile. A slight blush colored
his cheeks. His face young and soft, but already with hardening lines,
Haldir noticed.

"Boromir!" he heard the Steward call and turned to see another young man
turn the corner. Denethor turned to Haldir with pride; "My eldest son and
heir," he exclaimed. "Boromir of Gondor..."

Haldir repeated his low bow but did not introduce himself this time. If this was to be the 
new Steward he would know who Haldir was.

"Haldir of the Galadhrim," Boromir bowed short before him. "It is an honor," he 
continued with a smile in his eyes. His face was handsome, but held a pride mirroring his 
father's. Still there was no darkness in the heir's eyes. They were clear and green and met 
the Elf's without malice or hidden intentions.

They both seemed good enough, Haldir thought, Denethor's sons, Gondor's
hope. His eyes met the youngest one's again. He reminded Haldir of the taste of 
something sweet. His angled face so unpolished and raw, yet refined. A nobleman's 
son...yet...something different. He dared a quick look down the youth's body. Well 
shaped and firm. Broad shoulders, muscled thighs through the leggings...Haldir smiled a 
secretive little smile. Happy in this moment that men did not possess the knowledge of 
mind reading.

They entered the dining hall together. Haldir was placed at the end opposite to Denethor, 
being the guest of honor.

Dark clad servants roamed about them; carrying trays and platters of food.
The hall was big to be a private chamber; heavy wooden furniture, all dark
in color, all carrying the memory of those who had been, but were no more.
It was strange, Haldir thought, that he, as an Elf could remember the Steward's family. 
Remember their faces, their appearance - but the humans could not.

He ate the food and carefully avoided the meat on his plate. The Steward
noticed;

"We don't have many elven guests," he explained. "I had forgotten your
eating habits...I'll have dried fruits and nuts sent to your room," he
offered.

The eldest son, Boromir cocked his head and gave Haldir a curious look:

"Does all elves avoid meat?" he asked.

Haldir smiled;

"No," he said," there are those who eat it, but not my kind."

"And what exactly are your kind?" Boromir continued.

"The Galadhrim" Haldir answered.

"Yes..." Boromir had an amused smile on his face. " The mysterious people of the Wood 
that we hear about but never see.  Is it true that you live in the trees?" he asked half-
mockingly. His gaze darting to his father to share the amusement. His father smiled back, 
reassuring his eldest.

"Yes," Haldir smiled and thought about the beautifully lit talans of Lorien. Their refined 
beauty and exclusive artwork that no castle of any mortal king could be compare with. 
"We do live in trees," he answered the young Gondorian.

"Like animals in the forest," Boromir mused and lifted the silver goblet to
his mouth.

Haldir noticed that the youngest son looked at him as well, but his eyes
were merely curious. Curious and dreamy. He could read fascination there. It wasn't the 
first time.  Haldir was used to being the target of dreams, a
figure from the tales come to life. The Elves would not linger in
Middle-Earth much longer, already there were few of them left. They were
rare now; his people...

"How old are you?" the young man burst out and ignored the angry glance from his 
father.

"Older than you can imagine," Haldir answered. "I have sat at this table
sharing meals with your ancestors ever since the days of the first
Stewards."

Faramir's eyes widened.

"It's almost unbelievable isn't it?" Denethor spoke. "So young and so
pretty, and yet so old..." he drank deeply from his goblet.

"Don't you ever get weary?" Faramir asked.

"Weary?" The Elf replied.

"Of living?" the boy asked him and Haldir smiled.

"Sometimes," he said, "sometimes I get weary." Like now, he thought to
himself, when I am forced to linger among men...men like the Steward of
Gondor.

"Elves are creatures of nature," the Steward lectured his sons from the end
of the table. "They do not think like us. They don't feel the same way we
do, isn't that right Haldir?" The Steward continued without waiting for the
answer. "They do not marry like we do and the women often live apart from
their families, their children, for years at the time. Lord Elrond of
Imladris' wife left for the mysterious lands in the west, leaving him with three children..."

"Those children," Haldir interrupted. "Were well grown by the time the Lady
left..."

"Of course," Denethor smiled and wiped his mouth with a napkin. "But you do
not follow rules," he continued, "and you do not build walls around your
cities..."

"We do not need your rules, Denethor, my Lord...Elves are immortal beings
and with years comes wisdom, we trust our kin to do what is right. To choose for 
themselves..."

Denethor just smiled.

"But still you need the fur linings from Gondor," he said at last. " Your
lady cannot conjure *that* up!" His eyes challenged Haldir across the table.

"No,..." Haldir smiled. "Men do have a few things that our people need," he
smiled. Deciding to go easy on the man. He was not here to argue with the
Steward, he was here to take care of the matters of Lorien.  He would not
let the man provoke him. Again he wished that his stay would be a short one.

"Amazing," Boromir marveled by his side. " Creatures of nature..." he
gestured with his goblet. " In these times of great cities and trading...you still live there in 
your own little realm, completely ignorant of the world..." Boromir met Haldir's gaze. 
"I'd like to go there sometime" he offered as a honor.

" Our guardians wouldn't let you in." Haldir replied without emotion.

"Why is that?" Boromir asked. "What is it that you guard that is so
precious? Twenty fair virgins? A barrel of gold..or of mithril...?"
Boromir's eyes held mirth born from inexperience, but Faramir looked at him
with respectful awe the elf noticed.

"Starlight," he said in reply to Boromir's question and smiled.

"They are romantics, the elves." Denethor continued his lesson. "They were
born of stars, you know...it is all harps and poetry with them..."

Boromir smiled amused and slightly arrogantly ;

"You are a curious people," he told the elf. " But it is a pleasure to
finally meet one of you," he added.

Haldir acknowledged the comment with a graceful nod. When the conversation
finally left elves for a discussion about disturbances by the border, his
eyes drifted back to the younger son. He sat quiet by his side, just looking at him. Haldir 
noticed that he had hardly touched his food. He was
mysteriously flattered by the effect he had on him. It had to be the boy's
beauty, he thought: Cinnamon and lavender...a startling combination...

Finally the dinner ended and the young men rose to leave, both of them
nodding courteously at the Galadhrim before leaving the hall.

Haldir was about to leave as well when Denethor gestured for his attention.

"Wait...Haldir." He said. "I would like to talk to you...it is a beautiful
night," he continued. "Why don't you join me for some spiced wine out on the terrace."

Since you couldn't turn down your host, especially not if he were the
Steward of Gondor, Haldir nodded and followed the man, although he did not look 
forward to this conversation. His eyes followed the young men as they left the room and 
saw Faramir turn at the door to look back at him. Their eyes meet across the distance; a 
long, lingering gaze, before the boy reddened and broke the stare. Haldir smiled to 
himself.  He liked youth, it had a certain charm...a certain reckless vulnerability that he 
admired. In
Denethor's youngest son youth bloomed and flourished...

Denethor was right. The night was a lovely one, although he could have
thought of more pleasant company.

"You must excuse my son," Denethor said when they stood together by the
stoned fence that rimmed in the terrace and watched the Palace Guards in
their exercises in the dark court yard. " He doesn't mean to be rude," he
continued. "He is just being honest..."

"He is young..." Haldir answered. Ready to forgive the young Gondorian any
offense if it meant he would have to spend less time with his father.

"Yes...yes...." Denethor said. "But he is a good man...a good man of
Gondor." Pride shone through his words and Haldir settled for just a nod.
"But then again," Denethor continued. "So am I, for you...young that
is..."

A smile curved Haldir's lips.

"Yes, you are, Lord of Gondor," he said. "Yet you are old..."

Suddenly a hand came to rest on the small of Haldir's back, slowly circling
it through the velvet of his robe.

"You haven't changed your mind, have you?" the man beside him breathed.

Haldir stood still, frozen.

"No!" he said with ice in his voice. "Remove your hand, mortal!" he
demanded.

The hand disappeared and the Steward chuckled.

"I didn't think so," he said. "Yet...you did come back..."

"...and expected to find a man who's youth's folly had left him..." Haldir
replied with a stony expression.

" I can see..." Denethor said and furrowed his brows, " how I am not
tempting to you now...But back then...when I was young and fair...why not,
Elf? Why wouldn't you have me then?"

Haldir didn't answer at first , he just stared in to the dark. At last he
sighed:

"I thought we agreed to not let the past come between us in our
dealings?" he said. "I am here as a messenger of Lorien...nothing else!"

"Still, " a sly smile on the man's face; " how can you expect me to not look at you? To 
not...feel what I did back then...you are so fair." His voice softened. "So very beautiful 
and appealing to me..."

" The scar on your thigh should have taught you a lesson!" Haldir
interrupted, "taught you to keep such thoughts to yourself!."

" I wish..." The Gondorian sighed. "But you seduce me with your mere
presence, Galadhrim..."

"It is your pride that speaks." Haldir said coldly. " You do not react well
to rejection..."

"...Especially not when it comes in form of a Elven blade," Denethor
chuckled. "Tell me Haldir...have you married?" he asked.

"No..." Haldir answered, his patience with the man slowly running out.

" Why?" Denethor asked. "Isn't it so that you freely take lovers?” He continued without 
waiting for reply. “Isn’t it so that you dance in the woods and take lovers, males and 
females alike, and make love to each other in the treetops...isn't that true, Haldir?"

"It is true." Haldir answered short.

"Then why not me?" His foul breath was in Haldir's face as he moved in. His
gaze pierced him, demanding to know:

" I do not, and never did, see a lover in you, my Lord." Haldir answered
truthfully. " Our customs do not mean that we can be chased and pursued,like you did to 
me..."

"Oh! I'm not that easily fooled!" Denethor burst out. " You are playing
games with me, Elf! I remember your words to me last time," he
continued. "We are not creatures to be taken lightly, you said.  We are not
tools to be used for a man's pleasure"...But that's exactly what you are,
isn't it? That's why you so seldom marry...you like it a bit too much,
that's why! You will not give it up!" Denethor emptied his goblet and wiped
his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Give up what?"  Haldir asked the man while his nostrils flared white and
his eyes grew dark.

" The pleasure!" the man howled. " Your countless lovers! Your passionate
ways...!" he trailed off.

Haldir sighed.

"We have had this discussion before, my Lord," he said politely. "And what I find most 
curious about Men..." his voice hardened, "is how they hardly have time to grow up 
before they die!"

The Galadhrim turned and left the terrace without a word. It would have been folly to 
stay, to follow this dark, brooding man into his twisted
fantasies. His wishful thinking. To listen to his convictions born from a
mixture of pride, rumors and madness.

Quickly he made his way to his chamber and locked the door securely behind
him.


 
 
 
II 
 
Haldir spent most of the following day waiting impatiently for The Steward  
to find time for him. He wanted to get his Lord's concerns laid out before  
Denethor and then leave. 
He walked the gardens and explored the ancient library.  He ate some of the  
fruits the Steward had provided him and visited his horse in the 
stables. 
 
He caught sight of Faramir in the garden but avoided crossing his path. He  
would not encourage his own gentle feelings for the Gondorian after the  
unpleasant conversation with his father the night before. 
 
The day went by, and suddenly it was night. Although tired and annoyed by  
his fruitless waiting Haldir still felt obliged to show up at the court when  
the night fell. Besides, he would not give the Steward the pleasure of  
seeing how the proud elf bent to his words, how they afflicted him. 
 
He had hoped that the hall would be full, that there would be local nobility  
and foreigners there, a place where he could be seen but would not have to  
participate, not have to deal with The Steward and his family. It was not so  
however, there were only ten other people in the hall, three of them The  
Steward's family. 
Haldir saw the brothers standing in a corner, smiling affectionately at 
each other. They had a bond of love then, Haldir mused, even if they seemed  
different at the first glance. 
 
He bowed slightly for the Lord, although his eyes held nothing but loathing  
when he greeted him. The Steward smiled, it would have been gentle enough  
had it not been for the way his eyes roamed the elven body, lingered  
teasingly on his crotch. 
 
Haldir found himself a glass of wine and sat down by the fire. With his back  
to the room he closed his eyes and tried to relax. He did not like this, not  
at all.  It was not dangerous, not like the danger he was used to, but it  
was unnerving and uncomfortable to be treated like this. To be forced to  
stand the Lord's eyes on him; more intimate than any touch. When he opened  
his eyes again he found two pair of eyes on him. One of them, a Palace Guard  
who watched him with undisguised desire and an expression on his face that  
reflected too well the thoughts in his mind. The other pair belonged to  
Faramir.  He had moved across the room and lingered in the opposite  
corner,obviously unsure whether he dared approach him. Questioning eyes met  
his as the youth lifted the goblet to his lips. 
Haldir was about to motion for him to come closer when his elven ears caught  
a quiet discussion behind his back.  The voices of the Steward and his  
eldest son. Haldir froze when he heard his name mentioned. 
With his goblet half lifted to his lips he sat and listened as the 
unbelievable conversation unfolded behind him: 
 
"He is beautiful...almost like a woman, but still...so *very much* a male."  
Boromir said. 
 
Denethor chuckled; 
 
"He is proud as a princess as well," he said. " Ah! He brings the youth back  
to my loins, it is as if I am burning each time my eyes fall on that fair  
creature..." 
 
"The one who could lay his hands on him..." Boromir followed up. " What 
bliss is to be found in that slender body...?" he mused. 
 
"They *are* hot blooded, you know " The Steward told his son. "And they have  
a temper as well," he laughed. "I still have a scar after my encounter with  
him in my youth." 
 
Boromir laughed as well. 
 
" I can only imagine, " he marveled. " how he must be in bed, on his back  
with a man between his thighs..." 
 
"Preferably a Man of Gondor," Denethor chuckled in reply. "And you know what  
they say," he added, "a piece of elven flesh will preserve youth in a  
man...make him live longer; fade slower." 
 
"I would have him without those benefits..." Boromir said in a distant 
voice. 
 
"Try it, then!" his father urged. "Let's see if you can do what I could 
not..." he challenged. "No warrior would look down at you for bedding such a  
beautiful creature," he encouraged his son further. 
 
Boromir laughed. A low, lustful laugh. 
 
"Yes..." he said at last. "Let us see if I can..." 
 
Haldir rose quickly from his chair and left the hall without looking back.  
He shot Faramir a dark look when he walked passed him and climbed the stairs  
leading to his room in a fury. 
 
How dared they, he thought. How dared they think of him...look at him...  
like that....! He thought he had made his feelings, as well as his lack of  
interest, apparent years ago when he slid his blade across the human's  
thigh. Tried to teach him a lesson in courtesy. Apparently it had not worked  
as intended. 
Haldir paced the floor in his room. He did not like this, to have to hide  
like a mouse, stay in his chamber to avoid assaults. It was not the way of a  
proud Galadhrim... all his years he had never faced a challenge like this  
one, but it was a challenge and he was an elf, and he would not run from it.  
With clenched jaw, he lifted his long elven blade from the table in his room  
and hid it in his crimson robes. Then he opened the door and entered the  
corridor. 
 
************************ 
 
As expected Haldir was approached by Boromir when he entered the hall  
again.They sat down together by a small, wooden table in a corner of the  
hall. Boromir sent for more wine, told Haldir he wanted to know the elf  
better.That he knew so little about the Elven people. 
 
Patiently Haldir drank with him, watched as the wine made the determination  
grow in the young man's eyes. Made his eyes more daring, his hands as well.  
Gentle touches. A finger brushed Haldir's hand, a hand lay friendly across  
his shoulders. The Man's skin was covered by a thin layer of sweat. But as  
the wine took hold of him it was more due to lust than nervousness, Haldir  
mused.  Boromir's eyes fell hungry on him. The man even wet his lips once  
ortwice while his gaze lingered on Haldir's mouth. 
 
Haldir waited. 
 
Boromir spoke nonsense. It could have been the wine, but Haldir suspected it  
to be a mixture of anticipation and nervousness for what he was about to  
do... Seduce The Elf...Be the Man between his thighs... 
 
Haldir smiled and listened patiently to long rants about the traders of 
Gondor, the barbaric customs of the people of Rohan, Boromir's pride over  
the White City...it's charms, it's hidden treasures... 
 
Haldir smiled. And waited. 
 
And all the time he felt Denethor's eyes on them. Never leaving the two of  
them. Dark eyes, wrapped in and shaded by his own lust, an additional pair  
of eyes on Haldir's body... and Faramir, standing by his father's side...Was  
that jealousy on his face...? Probably, Haldir decided.He was the Steward's  
son after all... 
 
And Haldir waited, and smiled to the man. Batted his lashes slightly. He 
knew this game as well as any. He *was * this game when he wanted to be. 
 
At last Haldir decided that the time was right. He had been friendly to 
Boromir all night, even allowed him to touch him. He knew the minds of men,  
knew what was doomed to follow next. 
 
"My Lord, Boromir," he said, "I am weary and will return to my room." He  
rose from the chair and bowed to the man. " I bid you a good night." 
 
 
"I think I'll follow your example," the Gondorian quickly replied and rose  
as well. "Let us go together," he said. "Your room is on the way to my  
chambers..." 
 
Haldir just smiled and nodded. 
 
When they left the hall together the Man's father and brother still watched  
them . One of them with a lustful, triumphant expression. The other one with  
pain. 
 
They had hardly reached the first corner of the stairs when Boromir's hand  
slid around Haldir's waist and his mouth came to press a kiss to his cheek.  
His eyes, blurred from alcohol and arousal, met the elf's with confidence. 
 
" Do not waste time on me, Gondorian," Haldir warned him, knowing very well  
the warning would be fruitless. 
 
"Why not? " Boromir replied. "You are the most beautiful creature I have 
ever seen..." he continued and leaned his head on Haldir's shoulder. 
 
"It will not lead anywhere" Haldir continued with his warning. 
 
"Why not?" Boromir asked again. "I know you sleep with males as well as 
females," he continued. "All elves do..." he trailed off. 
 
"But I wont sleep with you," Haldir replied. "Let me go now," he demanded, "  
and we can forget this ever happened....". 
 
But Boromir's arm didn't move. 
 
" Are you afraid of me, Elf?" he asked. " Men might be a little rougher 
between the sheets, but I promise I wont hurt you!" He gave Haldir a teasing  
glance and tilted his head to kiss the Elf again. 
 
" I have *had* Men between my sheets," the Elf smiled. "But you have no 
place there... not tonight, or any other night." he added. 
 
"Don't be so sure, Elf. " Boromir said. " I could show you a trick or 
two..." 
 
Haldir laughed out loud; 
 
"And what would a young man like you possibly teach a Galadhrim old enough  
to know your first ancestors, the founders of the name and the title you so  
proudly bare?" 
 
"Are you mocking me, Elf?" Something dark had come in to his eyes making 
them look almost threatening when they met Haldir's. 
 
Haldir met his gaze with a calm confidence: 
 
"I am merely telling you, what you wish for will not happen" he stated. 
"Now remove your arm, Boromir of Gondor!" 
 
Instead of following Haldir's advice, Boromir just tightened his grip more  
firmly around the other's waist. His face showed anger now, anger and  
confusion. With a swift movement he embraced the Elf and pressed his lips  
hard to his mouth. Haldir remained motionless as the Man continued to kiss  
his mouth,let the tongue run along it, let it search for an entrance. 
Lack of air finally forced Boromir to give up his mission. His head fell 
back: 
 
"Oh, gods! That scent!" he cried out. His eyes were hot and shiny when they  
met Haldir's cool distant ones. "You don't see..." he told the Elf: "I  
*will* have you!" 
 
His hand ran over Haldir's back, the other one gently massaging his hip 
as the man drew a deep breath. 
 
"I *must* have you," he continued and pushed his hips to Haldir's. His 
pounding arousal pressed firmly against his thigh. 
 
"No!" Haldir answered. " I will not give my consent...I do not desire  
you,Boromir. You will not have me..." 
 
"But I will," Boromir repeated and rubbed himself against the elven body 
while his nostrils flared and his eyes clouded. " I must..." he said. " I am  
sure you will enjoy it, Elf...you're such a passionate being...don't play  
your games with me, I can see right through you," he continued in a low  
insistent voice. " I know what it is you desire...please, just let me come  
to you" he begged. "Please..." 
 
He moved in to kiss the other again, moistening his lips with the tip of his  
tongue. Haldir tried to move back but Boromir grabbed him by his shoulders  
and held him in place. 
 
"Let me go!" Haldir demanded. 
 
"No!" The Gondorian growled and ground his hips more violently against him.  
" I will not let you slip away from me," he panted. " I *will* have 
you...!" He was so lost in his desire that he didn't notice Haldir's 
face suddenly changed expression from patient to determined.  Not before the  
long blade rested against his throat. Cut slowly in to his flesh, causing a  
trickle of blood to run down the curve of his neck. Then, he froze. 
 
"Now, Gondorian will you let me go?" Haldir's voice asked coldly. Whispering  
the words in to his ear. 
 
"You ...sneaky ..creature!" the man hissed. 
 
"So I am the sneaky one," Haldir tilted his head. "Not you...not your 
father..." he continued.  " I can only imagine, " he repeated the Man's 
words slowly, his mouth close to his ear: " How he must be in bed, on his  
back with a man between his thighs..." 
 
"You...you heard us?" A sudden burst of shame in the other's expression. 
 
"Denethor," Haldir said "always underestimates the Elves...our senses...."  
he explained. " I can see and hear a lot that you...humans.." he spat the  
last word, "can not!" he finished his sentence. 
His eyes caught the eyes of Boromir. Cold and superior he stared at the Man,  
his sharp knife still pressed against his throat. "Let me offer you a piece  
of advice, Son of Gondor," he said at last. " Do not believe all that your  
father tells you...find your own honor, do not always believe in his..." 
 
"Do not speak ill of my father!" The Man spat over the shining blade. 
 
" Do not speak ill of the man who attacked me in my bed?" Haldir asked with  
arched brows. " Do not speak ill of the man who came naked and aroused to me  
and tried to force himself on me?!" 
 
"What do you expect," the man said in a strained voice. "The way you 
look...the way you move..." 
 
Haldir pretended not to hear him; 
 
"Much as you just tried, " he continued, " I will choose my own 
lovers, Boromir of Gondor." His blade pressed in to the skin again. Broke  
the thin surface and caused another trickle of blood to run down the man's  
neck. 
He pressed a little harder this time. Making sure that the Man felt it; the  
metal cutting in to his flesh. A muffled cry of pain and finally fear came  
seeping into his eyes. 
 
"You will not kill me over this?" he asked, trying more to convince himself  
than the elf. 
 
"No..." Haldir said and removed the knife. His eyes never leaving the 
other's. "Not this time," he added. "But be aware of this, young one...your  
heritage means nothing to me...it will not protect you from my anger!" 
 
With his hand pressed to his bleeding neck the Man turned without a word and  
ran down the stairs. Haldir followed him for a few steps; far enough to see  
Faramir standing by the foot of the stairs. His eyes wide and his mouth fell  
open when he saw his older brother come running down with a pained  
expression and the Elf with the long blade held casually by his side and  
fury in his eyes. 
 
" Come..Faramir...come!" Boromir called with a scared, muffled voice when he  
rushed passed his brother. 
 
With a last long, lingering gaze on Haldir, Faramir turned to follow his 
him. Shock and surprise on his features; a touch of fear.Respectful awe for  
the creature in the staircase. 
 
*************************** 
 
The morning after Haldir decided to ignore the rules of formal wear. He 
didn't want to dazzle or blend, he wanted to feel strong. Comfortable. 
He slipped in to his normal clothes, the grey tunic of the Wardens. His 
soft, black boots, a short grey cloak... he wanted to dress like a warrior.  
Make his point even more clear to the ignorant humans. He was no fair  
maiden! He was the Captain of the Lady's Guard! An Elven warrior, among the  
finest of his kind. 
 
He decided that if Denethor had not time for him this day he would stay only  
to get the furs and then leave. This was not a good place to linger. Not for  
his peace, not for his already low opinion of Men. The Lord and the Lady  
would understand, they knew him well. Knew that he would not choose such a  
simple solution if he had had another choice. 
 
He walked down the stairs in search for one of the Steward's advisors to ask  
if the mighty man had time for him. 
 
Instead of finding one of them, he found the man himself. He stood alone in  
the King's Hall, the ever present goblet in his hand. 
 
Haldir drew a deep breath and approached the man carefully, not knowing in  
what mood he would find him this day, since he assumed the boy had showed  
him his wounds. 
 
Denethor turned when Haldir was just a few steps away from him. 
 
"Ah! Haldir!" the man said and curled his lips. "You had a bit of a clench  
with my son last night didn't you?" the Gondorian chuckled.  Startling  
Haldir a little with his frankness. His lack of subtlety. 
 
Healdir gave him a stern smile in reply; 
 
" I do hope he learnt his lesson," he said. "Once again my blade was red 
with the blood of your line, Denethor..." 
 
"Oh," The Steward smiled teasingly. "But maybe you are worth some  
bloodshed,Galadhrim," he said and let his eyes roam Haldir's body once  
again. 
 
Haldir could not believe what the man had just said. It was all just a game  
to him. The madman was still playing games! 
 
" I will not bed you, nor your son!" Haldir said.  Hoped the clear words 
would reach the man's fogged mind. 
 
The Steward still measured him with his gaze: 
 
"Sooner or later you will have to give in," he said. " I know elves," he 
continued, "their bodies bursting with need... the need to be taken!" The  
old man's gaze met Haldir's. 
 
"If your son comes near me again..." Haldir said. "I swear I will hurt him!" 
 
"But not kill him, Galadhrim...you can not afford that. " Denethor looked at  
him with self-assurance and Haldir could do nothing but agree.  He could not  
kill the heir of  Gondor, not over his own pride and chastity. "And as I  
said..." The Steward continued, "maybe to hear your screams of pleasure is  
worth a little bloodshed...a few scars!" The old man turned on his heel and  
left Haldir alone in the hall. 
 
An anger he had not felt since his youth so long ago coursed through 
Haldir's body. Annoyance, hurt pride...the temper he had battled and forced  
under control centuries ago burst free. He hastened to his room 
and grabbed his bow and quiver. Hoping that the precision and control needed  
to fire the arrows would help calm him. As he was now he very well might  
kill the Gondorian heir, or the Steward himself. Red fog before his eyes as  
he ran down the stairs with the bow in his hands. He had to take control of  
this anger or he would explode! 
 
************************** 
 
Haldir entered the exercise field behind the palace just to find another 
annoyance.Faramir stood there all by himself firing arrows, with his back to  
the castle wall. 
 
Haldir quickly walked to the other side of the field, tried to ignore the  
young man as he aimed his arrow and fired the first shot. 
 
As expected the Gondorian saw him. His eyes met Haldir's across the field  
and he gave a slight smile to greet him. Haldir did not respond, just took  
another arrow from the quiver and kept shooting. 
 
He could feel it, as well as saw it from the corner of his eye when it came.  
The warm gaze trailing his body. Hot and sticky, moving across his  
backside,lingering on his buttocks, moving slowly over his thighs. 
 
He clenched his teeth and kept quiet. Held himself back with force as to not  
walk over and throw the youth to the ground. He drew a couple of deep  
breaths and forced his heart to beat slower. Still the rage burned  
bright,this anger would not pass so easily... 
 
************************ 
 
Faramir crossed the field to pick up his arrows and when he turned to stand  
and make his way back, his eyes met the point of an elven arrow - only  
inches from his forehead. 
 
"Be careful what you aim at, Gondorian." the Elf's voice sounded cold. 
 
"What?" Faramir asked, confused. 
 
"Come!" Haldir said. "Get up!" 
 
The young man rose slowly, his heart beating fast with fear. He remembered  
clearly the look on his brother's face the night before. The blood that  
poured from the wounds on his neck.  Remembered how Boromir had cursed the  
elf, the fear he could read in his brother's voice. And now, the Elf was  
aiming at him with his arrow. 
 
"What...where are we going?"  Something in the Elf's eyes told Faramir 
clearly that this was no game. The elf was just as serious now as when he  
put the blade to Boromir's neck. 
 
"Over there," Haldir gave a short nod towards the castle, to an arched 
corridor running along the rear of the palace. 
 
Faramir moved, tried not to think about the arrow pointed to his head or the  
possible implications. What did this mean? Had the Lady of the Wood suddenly  
become hostile towards Gondor? 
 
When they had walked for a few minutes under the arches Haldir finally 
told him to stop. He cast his bow and arrow aside and grabbed the youth by  
his upper arms and pushed him violently against the wall. His eyes were  
burning in to the other's. Anger, Faramir thought. He is angry...but what  
had he done? 
 
He tried to move, on the brink of panic, he tried to escape but the Elf held  
him in a grip of steel. Those slim, fragile looking limbs proved to be  
stronger than any man's. Faramir felt his cloak being rubbed and ripped by  
the rough surface of the stone wall behind him. His front covered by the  
Elf's body. Tightly pressed against his own. 
 
"What do you want?" Faramir asked in a cold voice, although his limbs were  
shaking. 
 
"What do I want?!" the Elf answered, amused. A dark smile tickled his lips,  
his eyes roamed the face in front of him. Showing a passion Faramir hadn't  
thought the distant Elf capable of. All coolness, all distant pride seemed  
to peel off in front of the young Man's startled eyes, leaving a naked  
expression of something he could only describe as hunger. 
 
The Elf bit his lower lip, sparkling eyes met Faramir's: 
 
"I want you!" he said in a low voice and pressed his lips to the Man's. 
Sliding his tongue across the other's mouth. 
 
Startled Faramir tried to turn his head but the Elf followed, his lips 
didn't let his go until the lack of air forced him. 
 
"Don't !" Faramir burst out. 
 
"Why not?"  There was something teasing, wild and unpredictable in the 
Elf's expression. "Don't you heed your family traditions, Faramir? This is  
what your father and brother have pursued since the day I arrived!" 
 
Shameful on the behalf of his family Faramir reddened. 
 
"I don't..." 
 
"No," the Elf interrupted; " because *you* are a *Man* of honor, aren't  
you,young one?" A sarcastic smile curved the Elf's lips." That's what I like  
about you," he continued in a mocking tune  "...that and your..." His eyes  
left Faramir's and drifted across his face and hair with a dreamy  
expression. 
 
"My what?" Faramir asked in a hoarse whisper. 
 
"...beauty" Haldir smiled and his gaze came back to rest in Faramir's. The  
Elf smiled again; "I can not tell you how much I would like to..." his eyes  
drifted again. 
 
"To what?" Faramir whispered. Confused now as to the Elf's intent. 
 
The Elf made a low purring sound in the back of his throat. His eyes held a  
challenge. His body pressed in even closer and his hips rocked slightly  
against Faramir's. The Man gasped in surprise and Haldir used the  
opportunity to reach over and catch his lower lip between his teeth. His  
tongue eagerly played with it while his hips continued rocking and sliding  
against Faramir's body. 
 
Faramir could not believe it when he felt his flesh harden towards the 
other, his pulse quicken and heard a slight moan escape his own lips. He was  
red with shame and embarrassment but that only made their little space  
warmer, hotter. Unbelievably so. 
 
"No..." he muttered in to the other's mouth. 
 
Haldir let go of his mouth; 
 
"Why?" he purred with blurred eyes, his lips glittering moist in the 
dim light. "Don't you think me beautiful?" he whispered in the scared boy's  
ear. 
 
"Yes!" Faramir burst out. "Yes! I think you are beautiful...but that doesn't  
mean that we can..." 
 
"Oh! But it does," Haldir interrupted him. "It does", he repeated and sank  
in to the other. Made it clear that he knew very well what state Faramir was  
in. A slight push with his hips and Faramir knew very well which state  
Haldir was in as well. The worst thing was that the evidence of the Elf's  
desire just made his own grow worse. Waves of warmth coursed through his  
body when he felt the hardness of the other's arousal press against his own  
through the layers of fabric. 
His breath quickened and again he tried to turn his face away from the 
teasing Elf, only to feel smooth lips slide over his jaw and neck, forcing a  
whimper and a shuddering breath to break free from his mouth. 
 
"Yes!" Haldir whispered. "Yes...." 
 
"No," Faramir said again, almost crying now from the embarrassment. "I am  
not my father!" he burst out, "I don't take such things lightly!" 
 
"Of course not..." the elf murmured somewhere close to his ear. Soft elven  
hair brushed his neck and caused another shiver to flare through the young  
boy's body. "Now, don't bite!" The Elf added and caught Faramir's lips. This  
time the kiss was different.  The nibbling on his lips was left for a more  
persistent, more powerful exercise. The Elf's small, pink tongue pushed into  
his mouth before Faramir had time to react and immediately it was rubbing  
against his own, forcing it into life.Daring it to play along.  Haldir's  
lips closed over his. Covered them completely. Massaging them roughly with  
his own soft and silken ones while his tongue demanded attention inside. 
Faramir heard himself whimper and sigh as the pleasure of it all finally 
forced all thought from his mind. When the Elf's hips pushed towards him 
he lost control and met the other's body with his own. Writhing and grinding  
towards him. A soft chuckle in the elven throat and he sucked Faramir's  
tongue in to his own moist cave. Forcing the Man to kiss *him*. 
Faramir lost himself to the taste of the kiss, the enchanting scent of 
forest and green herbs mingled with spices that lingered in the air. The 
smell of him, the smell of The Elf. The jolts of sensations in his body. His  
ears registered every small sound of pleasure from the other. Tried to hear  
them through his own louder moans and sighs that came in a seemingly endless  
stream while he kissed the elf.  Kissed him with a passion so wild, so  
different from any passion he had ever experienced before. 
 
Suddenly the elf broke off the kiss. 
 
"You are right, fair one." he breathed and met Faramir's hazed gaze with 
stern eyes. "You are not your father...I will not be cruel to you." 
 
His nostrils flared and he let Faramir go. Loosened the grip on his  
arms,though still with his dark gaze buried in the other's. 
 
A low disappointed moan from the Man as their bodies parted. 
 
Haldir smiled. A cold, superior Lorien smile while he arched his eyebrows  
questionably. 
 
Faramir felt shame hit his gut like a fist; he gave quiet sob in despair. 
 
Haldir's face was an icy mask. No touch came to comfort the Man. 
 
"Indeed you heed your family traditions!" His voice came mockingly before he  
turned on his heel, grabbed his bow and left. His cloak billowed behind him  
as he crossed the pavement and disappeared under the stone arch.


 III


Haldir put his goblet back on the table in Denethor's personal library. He 
studied the maps in front of him, more eager than ever now to leave this 
land, this castle, this Steward's realm and return home. He had had enough 
of Denethor and his sons. Their games, their tricks...honey scented skin 
under his lips, deep blue eyes, laded with passion.  How could he have let 
it go so far?

He closed his eyes, regained his composure and bent over to study the 
maps from another angle. Careful not to expose his backside to the door or 
the windows lest he give the Steward and his sons another free taste of his 
charms. Their eyes seemed to leave their prints on him now, impure, filthy 
eyes that demanded, never asked.

Auburn curls, sweet breath over sensuous lips. A body that gave in, let
itself be molded in to a wound of fresh desire. A longing, an ache, in
those eyes. Fluttering lashes on his skin. Scent of leather and lace, 
nobility, and yet something else. A soft scent, like the fur of a newborn 
kitten...wild roses; heavy and full of nectar - and the honey...most of all, 
he smelt of honey.

Haldir shook his head and closed his eyes again. He had to be done with 
this work so he could return to Lothlorien.  Return to the serene presence 
of his mistress. The calming peace of the Golden Wood. Being among 
men was not good for him. Especially not these men. These men and their 
filthy desires.

Like the one that had stirred his own desire the night before. Rock hard 
and all too willing, attached to a beautifully sculpted body. Strong muscles 
under fabric. Something he could have had.  Haldir unconsciously lifted 
his index finger to his mouth and bit it gently, let it follow the outline of 
his mouth while his eyes grew distant. He slipped the finger again in 
between his parted lips; caught the tip of it lightly between strong teeth 
before he realized what he was doing. Then he chuckled. So old, yet a 
slave to his own flesh. It was, after all, rather amusing.

It was also sad to see something as young and delicious as Faramir go to
waste in such a family, he thought. He caught himself wishing they had 
met under different circumstances. Wishing that the boy had other 
ancestors. That other blood flowed in his veins. That his mind was filled 
with thoughts other than those of the Steward of Gondor.

Haldir looked up when a tall silhouette suddenly covering the light from 
the doorframe. Fearing it was Denethor, he put on his most stern 
expression. It was not.It was Faramir.
He stared at the Elf with burning eyes, dark shades cluttered his handsome 
face and Haldir noticed that he still wore the torn and ripped cloak from 
the night before.

"You, Elf!" the Man said with a voice that shook with emotion.

"Haldir," Haldir corrected him with a slight smile. Again wondering about 
Men and their pride.

"Why?" the disturbed young man in front of him demanded to know. Was 
that tears in his eyes? Surely not. Men of Gondor did not cry...

"Why?" Haldir answered amused. " Didn't you like it?" Haldir's smile 
grew wider, his eyes sparkled with steel clad mirth.

"You know very well that I did," Faramir said in a hoarse whisper. "What 
I don't understand is why you did that to me!"

"Did what?" Haldir asked him in a calm voice. "Why I aroused you or 
why I left you - when you so clearly wanted to keep me there?" A teasing 
tone in his voice now, taunting the youth in front of him.

Faramir covered his mouth with his hand. Closed his eyes much as Haldir 
had done just a few moments earlier.

When he spoke again his gaze was clear and his voice more steady:

" I have known men like him all my life! Don't think I haven't had my 
share of pursuers ...drunken royals and noblemen stumbling in to my 
chambers at night, sweaty hands on my body... ! Always a stranger at my 
father's court wanting a part of me...unbidden kisses in the dark.  Do not 
think me an innocent, Elf! But I have always fought them," he continued. 
"Never have I let them have their way with me. No ambassador nor prince 
have I ever let come that far..."

Haldir smiled distrusting;

"And I should believe in this honor of yours.  Why? Because you so 
clearly showed me last night how hard you are to convince?  A couple of 
kisses and you were ready to let me have you right then...And yes -More 
proof:  The way your eyes were eating me alive, roaming my body when 
you thought I didn't see it.My dear boy, I will not wait for more assaults in 
the dark.I caught you before it went that far...you should be glad...besides, 
" he added. "I'm not a Man, I'm an Elf!""

Faramir looked at him with a gaze that did not yield. His face was 
strained. His voice a whisper:

"Is it such a crime to want you? To desire you?" he asked. " I hardly knew 
it myself, that I did,until last night."

Haldir just looked at him;

" You smell of spent passion, " he said and wrinkled his nose. "Have you
seen a lover? Or did you find your release by yourself?" He roamed the
miserable Man with his gaze; "I can see you didn't return home last
night," he added.

Something surfaced, moved, across the young Man's face. He turned 
quickly and left the room. His eyes black, his mouth a white line. 
Clenched jaws, clenched fists.

Haldir wasn't surprised. He gave one last sigh of longing and regret and
turned back to look at the maps on the table.

********************


Denethor, his assistant and an advisor had joined him in the Library 
now.They were looking at the maps together. Trying to decide on the best 
route for the Gondorian traders, over land or by the river...

"As for the lining fur for your Queen...sorry, Lady, I think you should go 
see the huntsmen yourselves. It is one day on horseback in all, back and 
forth. But that doesn't scare *you*, does it?" Denethor asked.

"No," Haldir shook his head and smiled. "But I hope you have someone 
who
that could go with me. Someone who knows the way by heart."

"If I had been young, I'd do it myself," the Steward answered, again he 
had that look was upon his face. That look that seemed to stick on Haldir's 
skin. Something red and pulsing that choked him.

"Well," Haldir replied icy. "Since that's not the case. Do you recommend
someone else?"

"I would have asked Boromir." The Steward answered. Something almost 
hopeful in his gaze when it fell on Haldir, "but he rode out with the guard 
this morning."

A sudden relief struck Haldir to such a degree that he almost lost the
conversation that followed:

"My Lord, " the advisor said silently. "Lord Faramir is home, you could 
ask him to follow the Galadhrim back and forth. He knows the way by 
heart."

"Now, does he?!" The Steward growled. "When did my youngest son ever 
go
hunting? When did he roam the mountains like his brother?  Faramir is a
woman...!"

"What?" Haldir's head snapped up in surprise. "What did you say my 
Lord?"

"Oh! Nothing!" The Steward shook his head.

Haldir's heart started to pound a little faster.

"Are you not happy with your youngest? " Haldir asked carefully and 
dreaded the answer that he knew had to come after the Gondorian's 
outburst:

"Faramir?" The Steward expression turned to one of amusement. " Like 
his
mother...soft and fragile like a flower. Always reading.  That's how he 
spends his time! Prefers poetry and old tales to the sword.  No, if I hadn't 
had Boromir, who is a *man*, the future of Gondor would be a dark one 
indeed..."

The Steward lifted his goblet from the table and drank deeply.

The advisor and the assistant had their eyes respectfully glued to the
floor. An insecurity visible on their features now that their Lord spoke of 
his youngest son.

They like him, Haldir thought. They like the one who is shunned.

"Does Lord Faramir know that you feel this way?" he asked carefully 
again, deliberately casual. Hoping with his whole heart that Denethor 
would say no. Not likely though, since he just had cried his shame out to 
an Elf.

"Yes, of course!" Denethor cried out. " I have tried to harden him in every 
way possible. Tried to...to make him behave like the son of a Lord, but 
he,.he doesn't know what that means...he's too gentle...far too much like 
his mother. She couldn't handle life, too sensitive to everything. She faded 
here in Minas Tirith." Denethor played with the goblet in his hand. Let his 
fingers follow the ornaments, the white tree drawn in silver. "No, " he said 
at last. "It is with Boromir that our hope lies. Faramir was never much 
compared to his brother...a great disappointment to me, my youngest..." 
The Steward trailed off.

Haldir knew that all rules of courtesy told him to let the matter rest 
now;yet he couldn't. A last question throbbed in his mind:

"And Lord Faramir, how does he feel about being this, disappointment, to 
his father?" his voice cool and gentle. Icy trails of dread rippled through 
him.

"Faramir?" Denethor asked. " We don't speak much, " he admitted. "He 
goes his own way. Always angry with me...always hurt over something I 
have said or done. So delicate, so like a woman! It's been like this all his 
life. He doesn't take after me at all!. If he didn't look like me, I would have 
suspected my late wife had engaged in something unseemly. " Denethor 
laughed. "Why do you ask?" he added. Curious eyes rested on the elf.

Haldir clenched his jaw, much like Faramir had done when he left the
library a couple of hours earlier. The boy had meant it, Haldir thought and 
swallowed hard. Meant it when he said that he was not his father, the 
words had been said with honesty. And pride.

"No reason, my Lord." Haldir answered. " I am just surprised that you
willingly admit that something that comes from you is flawed," he smiled
sarcastically, while he cried inside. The Lord shot him a dark glace.

"Shall I ask Lord Faramir, sir?" The assistant broke the silence with a
quiet voice.

" Don't ask.  Tell him !" Denethor growled. He slammed his goblet down 
on the table.

Haldir felt slightly ill. He searched for that silent, calm spot inside but 
couldn't find it. He excused himself from the dark eyed lord who didn't 
seem to be able to gather himself again after being forced to think about 
his son.

He left the room with a slight bow and got only a short nod in return from 
the brooding man. The disappointed father, who stood by the table.


"Haldir, you rash fool!" he told himself.   He moved quickly through the
corridors towards his room. All these years and still you make such foolish 
mistakes! All this knowledge, and still...

Haldir covered his face with his hands wearily once he'd entered
the room and shut the door. The memory, of honey scented skin, a warm 
and willing body in his arms, leapt back to life and haunted him.

*********************

"This day will be a long one if you wont talk to me, Faramir," Haldir said 
and rode up beside the silent youth. They had been traveling for an hour. 
The young man hadn't said a word just nodded to Elf to greet him and 
refused to meet his eyes.

Now Faramir shot him a dark glance;

"I thought everything that needed to be said between us was said 
yesterday." He answered the Elf with hurt and anger in his voice.

Haldir silently wept inside looking at the vulnerability in the boy's eyes. 
The obvious hurt he could read there. A vulnerability he had abused.  He 
had crushed the young man's pride with his heartless attack and the words 
that had followed.
This whole Gondorian affair had become a nightmare, he thought....Haldir 
of Lorien had finally been faced with a situation he realized he could not, 
and did not, handle well.

"Are you afraid of me, Faramir?" he asked. Surprising the boy as well as
himself.

"I...think I am," the boy said at last.

"Why?"

They were traveling through woodland, thick forest on both sides of the
road. Haldir was relieved to be surrounded by trees again, to have escaped 
the stony walls of the castle. He would have sung for joy if it hadn't been 
for the brooding youth beside him. He had to deal with him, he thought. 
There was no way around it...

Instead of waiting for the boy's reply, Haldir continued speaking:

"Listen to me, Faramir," he said. " I am old, so old that I rarely error in my 
judgment anymore...but I think I have made a mistake now.  If this is so, I 
will apologize to you."

"You are not sure then?" the boy quickly replied. Gods, he had beautiful
eyes, Haldir thought. He decided to cut right to the point;

"How much did you hear much of what happened between myself and 
your brother the other night?" he asked.

Faramir smiled slightly.

"Enough to know he deserved those wounds..." he said. "As my father did
before him..."

"Do you understand how hard it is for me to be chased in the hallways like 
a blushing maid?" Haldir burst out. " I am no maid, I'm a warrior!" Anger 
stirred in his voice again. "And to be regarded merely as a bed treat for 
Men is not..." Haldir trailed off, he still found it hard to deal with these 
feelings, to pull himself away from the brink of rage.

"I never saw you like that," Faramir said softly.

"Then how *did* you see me?" Haldir asked although he was not sure he 
wanted to know the answer.

"I saw you as something beautiful," Faramir said. " Something divine..."

"And now?" Haldir continued.

"As something frightening, unpredictable...something that can cut..." the 
boy trailed off, unable to find the right words, but Haldir understood the 
meaning, and it was not Boromir's wounds the youth was referring to...

"Why do you think your brother was doing that to me?" Haldir changed 
his
approach. Coming to the matter that lay between them in a different, less 
painful way.

"Because my father told him to." Faramir said without any expression.

"He is re-living his youth through that boy, isn't he?" Haldir replied.

Faramir smiled.

" Yes, he is," he answered. "I often wish Boromir wasn't so attached to 
him. That he could see it himself, how wrong it all is..."

"Wrong?"

"Everything my father is too old to achieve himself he makes Boromir do 
for him, and then he takes great pride in it when the goal is reached...it is 
not right! Boromir should live his own life."

"Like you do?" Haldir asked softly.

Faramir just smiled;

"Why am I telling you this?" he burst out, weariness in his voice. "You are 
no friend of mine!"

"Oh, but I am, Faramir. I actually think that I am..."

"You don't aim arrows at your friends, or hold them up against the wall, or 
make them...feel things!" Faramir said passionately.

" Things?" Haldir asked. "Like desire?"

"Yes," the boy lowered his gaze, he had a sad smile on his lips.

Denethor was right, Haldir thought. The boy *was* extremely sensitive.
Wonderfully so...

"Faramir" he soothed. "I am beginning to realize that I maybe deserve a
blade to the throat myself for what I did to you... and even though I'm old 
and not given to mistakes, I do try to make things right when I make
one. Do you understand?"

"You're apologizing?" Something bitter flared in the man's eyes.

" Yes, I am." Haldir answered and met the hard gaze of the other. " I am
truly sorry for taking my anger out on you, an innocent, when it was your 
father I was angry with..."

"Not my brother?" Faramir asked surprised.

"No...I don't think there's anything evil or wicked in that boy, I just
think he's young.  Young and molded by your father's demands.  He may 
turn out to be a good and wise ruler for your kingdom,*if* he learns his
lessons...something your father, if I may be so frank, never did."

" I know my father has his flaws..." Faramir tried to explain.

"Do not apologize for loving your father, young one." Haldir interrupted. 
"You are his son, I don't expect you agree with my opinion..."

"If my father, or brother had done to me what they've done to you, I may
have agreed with you..." Faramir confessed.

" But *I* did that to you," Haldir said. " Do you have a low opinion of me 
now, Faramir...?"

"No!" the boy said in a surprised voice. " But I don't know why...I should 
have hated you, but I don't..."

" I am glad to hear that," Haldir smiled. "As I am glad to discover that you 
are nothing like *him*."

"Father?"

"Yes..."

"My father doesn't like me much," Faramir said without passion. "Maybe 
that is why."

"Maybe," Haldir smiled...admired the way the rays of the sun filtered
through the branches and played on Faramir's back. " I liked kissing you," 
he said spontaneously, regretting it instantly, but then it was too late.

Shock mingled with something hot flashed across the youth's face.  Then,
something cold and hard, some hurt came to cover it up, swallow it up 
with bitterness.

"Don't talk about it!" he burst out. "If you want my forgiveness, don't ever 
talk about it again!"

Haldir nodded, he had made another mistake. He seemed to make a lot of 
them around this boy. He *wanted* to talk about it.  Explain that he had 
never meant for what had occurred by the archery ground to last so long, 
to go that far. Why had it gone that far? He had merely wanted to teach the 
boy a lesson, hadn't he? But then the boy had tasted too good, smelt like 
honey and had blurred Haldir's senses...

"I thought you were like them," Haldir sighed. "But you are not.  I have
learnt that from your father, " he added.

" You have heard one of his 'Faramir is a woman' speeches?" the youth 
said with humor, surprising Haldir by turning to him with laughter in his 
eyes.

Haldir laughed back;

"It doesn't bother you?" he asked.

" My dear, Elf. " Faramir said. " I may have a soft heart, but I do know my 
own worth...even if *he* doesn't see it..." Bitterness now sneaking back in 
to his voice.

" I am glad to hear that," Haldir replied softly. "As I am glad to know you, 
Faramir of Gondor," He bowed his head in reverence as he said the last 
words. "It is an honor..." he finished his sentence.

"And I you, Haldir of Lorien," Faramir replied. "Even if my first 
encounter with an elf turned out to be something...quite different to what I 
expected." Faramir's lips twitched in an ironic smirk that made Haldir 
laugh.

"Am I forgiven, then?" He asked.

"We'll see..." Faramir arched his brow and smiled teasingly.

Beautiful, Haldir thought.And I want him!

********************************

It was late night when they finally came back to the Steward's palace in
Minas Tirith. They had taken their time, even shared a meal with the
huntsmen in their camp.  Haldir had taken time also to select the fur,
making sure that every piece that went to Lorien was whole and fine.

On the way back they had taken another route, Faramir had entertained 
Haldir with stories of he and his brother's explorations in these woods.
How he had nearly drowned and been saved by Boromir, how Boromir 
had broken his ankle and Faramir had had to carry him down from a 
mountain side.

"In this, our people are very much alike, " Haldir smiled when he heard 
the story. " I too have brothers, and I too have been carried..."

He continued telling Faramir about the Golden Wood and Faramir's 
hunger for knowledge about the elven realm was bottomless. He asked 
questions and urged Haldir on every time he took a break.

All in all it had turned out to be a pleasant day for the both of them, they 
even reached a point where they could rest easy in each other's presence, 
ride together in a comfortable silence...
When they entered the gates of the palace they were smiling at each other 
with something close to affection.

When their horses had been taken care of by the stable boy they stood
together on the open court yard, neither of them willing to give up the
pleasant company of the other just yet.

"Walk with me," Haldir said. "Walk with me in the gardens for a while.  
The night is warm and beautiful and I haven't seen your gardens yet..." He 
lied.

"But its dark," Faramir argued.

" And I am an Elf...I need no light." Haldir replied, settling the
discussion.

As they walked the garden paths together, Haldir suddenly asked;

"Why are you afraid of me, Faramir? Except for the obvious, my habit of
cutting in your relatives, that is...?"

Faramir didn't answer and Haldir looked at him with something almost 
hopeful in his eyes.

The night truly was beautiful he thought; tiny stars covered the sky and
white flowers glowed in the dark. And the boy...the boy! The passionate
young man beside him. So much fire and so much ice...

" I would...rather not talk about it, Haldir." Faramir said at last.

They had turned a corner and were almost back by the palace now. Haldir
sighed, he didn't want this night to end...

"Do you want me, Faramir?" he whispered.  Taking a chance and crossing 
the line. "Is that what you fear?" he asked him.
He turned to face the young man who instantly blushed, a hostile
expression sweeping over him.

Suddenly Haldir caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye. A 
figure moving in one of the windows of the palace, bright light behind 
him, silhouetting his shape. How long had he stood there?

"Faramir," a sudden, wide smile on the Elf's lips. "I do want to make 
things right between us," he said and unfastened his cloak.

"What are you doing?" the Man asked, his eyes widening.

"Letting you have...whatever it is you want." The Elf smiled at him with
half-closed lids, his fingers working on the lacings of his tunic.

"Gods!" the Gondorian cursed in a whisper. "No!" he continued. "I will 
not give you another excuse to mock me..."

Haldir bowed his head slightly, his eyes never left Faramir's.

"Most men never get this offer," he said. "And it usually comes but once 
in a mortal's lifetime." He closed the distance between them and casually 
slid an arm around the other's waist. "I think you are beautiful," he said to 
the Man, "and I wish to do to you what your father and brother would do 
to me.  Now, is that such a crime, Gondorian? To want you? To desire 
you?"

IV

Faramir let out a shuddering breath. His body was tense, not unaffected by 
the other's presence.

"You are being honest with me this time?" he asked the Elf.

"Very honest," Haldir murmured close to his skin. "It would be a
great...pleasure," he continued.

Faramir drew a deep breath when he felt the Elf's lips on his neck.

"Do you want this?" The Elf asked. "Do you desire this?!"

"Gods, yes!" the words broke from Faramir's lips, although he cursed 
himself for it. He was still insecure about the other's intentions.

"Then have it!" The Elf smiled and moved a few steps backwards. 
Continuing to work on his clothes.

"Here?" Faramir asked, surprised.

"Yes," Haldir smiled with a secretive smile. "Right here, Faramir!" He
continued to undress in front of the stunned youth, revealing smooth 
marble skin, flawless and faintly glowing in the warm night. He undid his 
braids as well, silvery hair flowed over his shoulders, soft and glimmering 
as mithril.
When he was completely naked he slid in to the Man's embrace. Rubbed 
his
silken body on the rough fabric of his clothing.

"Do you want this?" he asked again, loosening Faramir's grip on him, 
forcing the Man to look at him, at his slender Elven body, the apparent 
arousal between his legs. "Do you desire this?" he whispered.

Faramir just looked at him. Admiration and lust mingled in his gaze as he 
took in every detail of the pale, hairless body in front of him. His
nostrils flared and he found it almost impossible to breath.
He reached for the Elf again. Felt the smooth skin under his fingers. Let 
his hands move across firm muscles, felt them flex when the Elf wriggled 
closer to let his own arms slide over the man's shoulders to lace them 
behind his neck.

"Do...do *you* want this?" Faramir swallowed.

Haldir pressed his hips to the man's crotch.

"What do you think, Faramir?" he asked him. "Does this feel like desire?"

"Yes," Faramir whispered and tried to catch the Elf's gaze, tried to 
measure the sincerity in it.

Haldir laughed, a low chuckle in his throat.

"I *do* want you," he smiled with an almost shy expression and let his 
lips meet the other's. His tongue slid in to the moist cave of his mouth, 
danced its wicked dance again, forcing the other to play along.

The passion broke free like water during spring in Faramir's body. 
Bursting to life. He clutched the Elf in his arms, kissed him eagerly, 
hungry. Let go of his mouth to taste his neck, his shoulders, the pointed tip 
of his ear. He could not believe that it was happening to him! That he 
stood there with this naked, beautiful, aroused elf in his arms. That he had 
offered himself to him. That he could have him. A deep moan of lust and 
relief from the Man, and all the time the elf responded eagerly with small 
sighs and moans as the human's mouth explored his skin. His head fell 
back, exposing more of his
throat to the hungry mouth. Soft hair touched the rough back of
Faramir's hands as they moved across Haldir's back. He could not believe 
the feel of it, the smooth elven skin under his fingers. He felt  Haldir's 
desire rub against his own; burn through the clothes. The hunger in the 
Elven eyes. His lips slightly parted, complete surrender in the man's arms. 
Nothing there now but lust. No pride, no anger, no coolness. Just aching 
desire that begged for exploration and release.

"Gods, you *do * want this!" Faramir said with surprise. Not realizing
before this moment how reluctant he'd been to believe in the promise in 
his arms.

" Yes..." Haldir sighed, his eyes dark and blurred. "Please, have me...!" He 
added in something close to a plea.

A sharp intake of breath at the Elf's last words and Faramir delved in to 
the creature in his arms. Unable to find his voice he did not reply to the the 
words, but his body did, giving up the last restraints.
Giving in to the burning ache in his loins. The sensations created by the 
Elf's passionate touch.

"Faramir!" The Elf moaned when the Man caught his dark nipple between 
his teeth. He pressed himself closer to the Man, closer to his mouth. 
Faramir's hands moved down and ran across the Elf's firm buttocks and 
Haldir's hips jolted forwards, grinding towards the man. His lips and 
tongue found the sensuous mouth again, kissing it eagerly. All pent up 
passion unleashed in this moment.

"Please, take it off." Haldir tugged at his tunic.  Faramir moved his hands 
up to undo the knots and lacings. The clasps on his cloak while Haldir's 
hands roamed every inch of skin as it became available to his touch. When 
the Man's shirt and tunic finally fell to the ground he made a purring 
sound in his throat and moved into his arms again.   Their chests meet, 
softly rubbing against each other while he kissed the boy passionately. 
Their arms wrapped around the other and they just stood there for a while. 
Enjoying the intimacy, the lust and the moment. An eager kiss that neither 
wanted to end. Tongues
entwined, their gaze lost in each other. Haldir's hands in the young man's 
unruly hair. Long strands of blonde on the man's dark shoulder. Soft sighs 
from both of them. Burning skin sensitive to every touch. A struggle to get 
closer, all the time, closer, to the other's body.

"You are *so* beautiful", Faramir panted when they finally broke off the
kiss.

"So are you, young one" Haldir smiled. His eyes were sincere, but that 
look soon faded for something else, something darker. His hand reached 
down and brushed Faramir's aching arousal through the fabric. Causing 
the man to bend slightly forward, a deep moan to escape his throat. "Take 
them off," the Elf urged, referring to the rest of the
Gondorian's clothes. "I want to touch you..." he breathed. His sapphire 
eyes met the Man's. Glittering dark in the soft night light.

The man smiled, anticipation mingled with shyness when he removed the 
last of his garments. The reward was a look of admiration from the Elf as 
he hungrily took in the details of the young human body in front of him. 
Lingered on the proud hardness between his thighs. His slender hand 
reached out and wrapped around the weeping desire. Held him firmly in 
his grasp. His nostrils flared and the tip of his tongue came out to wet his 
lips.

"I could eat you!" he chuckled softly and laid his hands on the Man's hips. 
He slid down Faramir's hot body and touched him gently with his tongue. 
Kissed the inside of his thigh, circled the sensitive skin with his tongue 
before touching him where he needed it the most.

"Gods, you cannot do that!" the man breathed, his hands tangled in the 
elven hair. "I can't bare it!"

Haldir didn't answer, just opened his mouth and took him inside. Sucked 
him in gently, his tongue played with the throbbing hardness, moving his 
mouth gently up and down. Enough to keep him there, but not to come.

"Gods," the man cursed again. "Don't play with me. ...Haldir, please!" He 
tried to break free from Haldir's grip on his hips. Tried to bury his member 
in the moist warm cave. He looked down at the Elf, his red, red lips that 
embraced him, the sensations it created, wonderful, almost painful. He bit 
his lips. Clenched his fists in Haldir's hair. Moaned loudly and closed his 
eyes. Every breath deep and heavy. Shuddering, shivering. Unbearably 
sweet.

Finally Haldir let go, a moan somewhere between relief and 
disappointment came from the man as the warm mouth disappeared and 
night air met his heated skin.

The Elf lay back on the ground.

"Come down to me," he smiled and spread his legs, made room for the 
boy to kneel down and embrace him. Hold him tightly in his arms. Kiss 
his mouth again. Rub his moist arousal against the other's. Touch him with 
his hand; The marble rod was moist with desire. Slick and shimmering...
The Elf moaned and lifted his hips, embraced Faramir in return. Enjoyed 
the ticklish sensation of the soft hair on the young man's body against his 
own elven skin. The roughness of his cheeks. Marveled at the difference 
between them.  Although the Man had a light complexion his skin still 
looked dark against the elven paleness. It was all pleasure. The honey 
scented skin was under his lips again. The eager, young body ready and 
willing against his own. The blue eyes and the auburn hair. All so 
beautiful to look at. His desire was increased even more as he watched the 
awe written on the Man's face as he ravaged the elven body offered to him 
with his mouth and hands. The pleasure he took in it, just to touch.  Haldir 
moaned and shuddered as the Man's hands moved across his skin. This 
was better than he had thought it would be. This was burning bliss.

"Have me!" The Elf begged at last, unable to wait anymore. "I want to be
taken by you tonight."

Faramir looked up. A slight smile on his lips under shiny eyes. This was
more than he had hoped for.

"Like a woman?" he asked to be sure.

"Yes," Haldir smiled back with glassy eyes, "although I am a male," he
reminded him.

"Like a man, then..." Faramir smiled.

"Yes," Haldir answered. "But I am an Elf."

"As if I could ever forget that!" the boy burst out. "I will take you like an 
Elf then..." he smiled happily while nibbling at Haldir's neck. Enjoying his 
scent. The feeling of the Elf's rapid pulse, evidence of his desire.

Haldir smiled as well before the lust took a hold of him and he eagerly
moved under the man.

"Have me then," he urged. His lips glistening, his eyes almost black. He
lifted one of his legs and slid it over Faramir's shoulder, gave him access 
to his most intimate parts.

"Wont I hurt you?" Faramir asked. Worry showed through the lust in his 
eyes.

Haldir just smiled:

"No," he said and took the other's erection in his hand. Forcing more thick 
fluid from the tip with his fingers, smearing it over the Man's skin. "This 
will do,"he smiled wickedly. " I am old," he said, "I am hardly a virgin."

Faramir smiled back. He stroke the marble skin, marveled at the faint glow 
in it and found what he was searching for. He positioned himself and took 
a deep breath.

"Do it!" Haldir murmured hotly and lifted his hips slightly from the 
ground. His eyes locked with Faramir's. His nostrils flared with every 
breath.

Faramir took him.

He pushed himself into the elven body inch by inch and could have cried 
for joy just at the feel of it.  The warm, tight embrace. The lustful moans 
from the one beneath him. Muscles that flexed and gave in. A body that 
welcomed him; -the intrusion.

He took a grip of Haldir's hips and started moving.  Slid himself in and out 
of the smooth, warm entrance. Haldir followed him. Moved his body with 
the rhythm, greeted every thrust with deep sighs and moans of approval. 
He steadied himself on his elbows and lifted his head from the ground, 
licked his lips and watched the man under half-closed lids.
Faramir turned his head and sucked eagerly at the skin of the elf's thigh. 
Kissed it and left a moist trail with his tongue. The Elf shuddered beneath 
him. Threw back his head and met the thrusting hips eagerly with his own.
Sweat mingled where their bodies met, warm and slick and burning.

Faramir's tension filled body was about to explode. He held himself back 
by will alone. Deep moans ripped from his chest with every thrust into the 
slender piece of grace before him. He would not hold, he knew it!
When Haldir reached down and took his own member in his hand and 
began
stroking it time with his thrusts, Faramir felt dizzy and it was black
before his eyes for a moment. The passion and the restrain being almost 
too much.
He looked down and was instantly mesmerized by the sight: The elf 
pleasuring himself with sure strokes and behind it, his own dark member 
slipping in and out of the marble body. All of it, every inch of skin slick 
with sweat and juices. His eyes rolled back when he felt the first waves hit 
the Elf. Making his muscles tense and then relax around Faramir, over and 
over again. He clutched at the thigh on his shoulder; kissed it, bit into it, 
while the release coursed through his body and exploded in his groin. 
Warm drops of pearly liquid hit the heated skin on their chests from the 
Elf's twitching member and with a hoarse cry Faramir spilt himself deeply 
inside Haldir's body.

He collapsed on top of the elf and felt the leg slip from his shoulder to 
stretch beside him. His spent member slipped out of the other and arms 
came to rest on his back. Haldir's chest rose and fell heavily as his breath 
slowly returned back to normal. Faramir's tongue slipped out to taste the 
sweat on the other's skin. One of Haldir's hands moved up to his head, 
fingers ran through the moist tendrils of his hair.

They lay there for a while, just feeling the other's body. The comfortable 
silence of the aftermath.

"Thank you!" Faramir said at last. He moved his head to see the Elf's face. 

A smile played on Haldir's lips, swollen and sore from their lovemaking.

"It was my pleasure, sweet one," he replied in his low voice. "Did you like 
it?" he asked teasingly.

"I...I have no words to describe it..." the Man said. He bent down and
kissed the Elf affectionately in an impulsive gesture. A deep kiss filled 
with emotion.

Haldir received the kiss and returned it with just as much affection.

When the kiss ended Faramir rolled himself off Haldir's body to lie beside 
him.  The air chilled their moist bodies and Haldir moved closer to the 
man. Curled up beside him, resting his head on Faramir's arm.

"I cannot believe," he said, "that I could become so enthralled by
Denethor's son..." His finger run down Faramir's cheek. "That I should 
find such pleasure in his flesh and blood".

"And I," Faramir said, "To become so enchanted by an Elf of the Golden
Wood...A *male* Elf, even...I am glad you wont linger here for long," he
added. "I would loose my heart to you..."

It was then the figure in the window moved. Bright light spilled out in the 
garden, revealing his presence and his shame.

"Who was that?" Faramir said startled and looked at the elf with wide 
eyes.

"Your father." Haldir said without emotion. " I guess he could not bare
watching us together anymore."

"He was there all the time?" Faramir asked.

"Yes," Haldir's face was smooth. "He knew he could not move because the
light would spill out, so he was frozen there...forced to see us play
together." Unable to hold it back anymore Haldir's mouth exploded in a 
wide grin while his eyes shone with amusement.

"But..." Faramir was stunned. Then...he was hurt: " So this was your
revenge?" he said. Unable to hold the hurt out of his voice.

Haldir chuckled softly, then he rose from the ground to his knees and
finally met the other's gaze.

"Men!" he said. "... I am not good at soothing your pride...but believe this 
Faramir," he reached out and took the Man's limp hand in his. "Your 
father's presence was just convenient.  This was not my revenge!  It was 
my desire!" He pressed a chaste kiss to the palm of Faramir's hand. "Do 
you believe me?" he asked.

"Yes," Faramir smiled and remembered the Elf's surrender to his passion. 
"I believe you," he said.

"Then share the sweetness of this moment with me, Faramir. All of it!" 
His eyes darted to the now empty window.

Faramir smiled back and followed his gaze.

"I will," he said. "All of it!"

*******************************


Denethor heard his own heart race. His eyes were wide and his breath was
unsteady.

Again and again he saw the scene in his mind.

The kneeling elf taking his son's arousal into his mouth. His kneeling son 
bedding the Elf, possessing the glowing body, forcing moans of pleasure 
from those red, elven lips.

His own nightly dreams unfolded yet he had no part in it.

He saw again how Faramir's hands had touched the Elf wherever he 
wanted to. How Haldir had shed his clothes and slid in to the youth's 
embrace. How he had welcomed his touch and his kisses. How they had 
been returned to the boy. Elven hands on his flesh and blood. Elven thighs 
parted for his son. Lips that had met, exploring tongues...

How had Faramir achieved this victory? What had he done?

Denethor's hand shook when he poured the wine.

And Haldir was beautiful, he thought. Even more beautiful than he had
imagined: Not a flaw on the white, smooth skin. And his son...

Denethor poured another glass of wine.

- And he had stood there like a fool. Unaable to move until the joy of their 
shared aftermath was about to choke him. Their relaxed bodies. Spent and 
tired.  Still together on the grass. Entwined, comfortable.  This was no 
fiery passion born of anger.
The Elf had seduced the boy...he had seen that. Yet, it was so hard to
believe...and even though he tried, he could not tell himself the Elf had not 
taken great pleasure in him. 
His mind was merciless. The picture of the Elf lost in passion, lost in his 
own release, haunted him.  Those pearly droplets showering his son's 
skin...Haldir's head thrown back. Faramir's mouth sucking at the elven 
skin as he found his own release deep inside the slender body. The one 
that had been denied *him* from his youth to the present day. The one 
Boromir had wanted and been denied.
Faramir had had him. There, on the grass.

He could only beg that they hadn't seen him. Hadn't noticed it when he
moved. Hopefully, he thought, they'd been too occupied with each other...

He heard noises in the hall and grabbed his goblet and a torch. Without
thinking he entered the hall, just in time to see the couple disappear up the 
stairs.

He didn't want to think of why he was doing this, but he started to climb 
the stairs after them. Lingered on every corner and silently moved up after 
them. It was as if he had to see how this ended. Wanted to hear the cool 
voice of the Elf build a wall between them. Restore the balance, restore his 
superiority.
Let the coolness of the elven race wash the folly out of his son.

He stopped at the last corner. Knowing that Haldir's room was the first one 
in the corridor. He stopped and listened:

" Well then, Faramir of Gondor...this is my chamber..." Haldir's voice low 
but not cold...Denethor didn't quite know what to make of it.

"Haldir of Lorien," his son replied. Denethor could almost picture the
slight nod that followed the words. What he did not understand was the
silence. He took a few more steps, hid the torch behind the corner, then
he leaned forward to see...

Faramir held Haldir in his arms, Haldir held Faramir and their lips were
touching.

Denethor's eyes widened, he clenched his jaw and felt sweat cover his
forehead. Here! He thought. In his own household!

Suddenly he heard the Elf laugh softly in the corridor.

"Come..." he said.

Denethor forgot to be careful and propped his head around the corner, just 
in time to see Haldir drag Faramir into his room. They held each other's 
hands and their eyes were locked in the other's. Neither of them noticed 
the old man on the staircase.

Still not willing to reflect upon his own actions, Denethor entered the
corridor. He found a stone bench under a window a couple of doors away 
from the Elf's. He placed the torch in a holder on the wall and sat down to 
wait.
He could not rest until he knew this...madness...had ended. Until he knew 
that his son slept in his own bed.

When the morning came and rays of sun made the torchlight fade 
Denethor
still sat there. When the servants woke and started to move around in the 
palace, he sat there. He sat there over breakfast, he sat there over noon. 
The servants saw him sit there and quickly passed him, or took another 
route. His dark expression scaring them off.

He still sat there when the daylight faded and elvish exclamations of
pleasure reached out in the hallway from the closed door.

He sat there when the midnight bell rang and when the night faded the day 
after.

At last his closest advisor approached him. Staggering like a much older 
man Denethor rose to his feet. Leaning heavily on his advisor's shoulder 
he made his way to his own rooms. An expression of utter defeat on his 
face. More ashen and grey than ever.

When he finally fell asleep in his big, stuffed bed, he dreamed about a
dark, closed door.


The End