Faramir no longer wants to wed Aragorn
Faramir looked at Aragorn for a long moment, before glancing down sadly. “I do not see how we can form any sort of peace or prosperity based on lies and deception. How can I believe you in anything now that I know you will lie to further your position?”
Aragorn desperately tried to come up with an answer, but Faramir’s denial of his proposal left him reeling and senseless. “You must trust me; this wedding must happen for the good of both our peoples.”
Faramir frowned and took a step back. “Trust? You speak of trust after admitting your lies. Surely you cannot expect me to blindly follow you, I am not a fool.”
Elrond put his hand on Aragorn’s shoulder and drew him back, after it became apparent that his foster son wanted nothing more than to shake Faramir’s compliance from the ranger’s body.
“I am truly sorry you feel that way, for I had expected better from you.” Elrond said sternly. “What has happened to the forgiveness and nobility of Gondor’s ruling House?”
“What has happened to the honour of the North?” Faramir replied, stung that the great Elf lord would insult him after he had gone through so much. “For in all the great tales told in Minas Tirith of Arnor, there is no mention of this prophecy or any salvation for our people.”
Elrond looked steadily at Faramir and then for a brief moment a small smile made its appearance on his face before his stern visage replaced itself. “Then perhaps it is time for you to hear the prophecy in its entirety. Only then should you make this choice, Lord Faramir Denethorion.”
Faramir nodded and leaned back on the Talan wall to listen. Aragorn shrugged away from his foster father’s grip and walked towards Faramir, stopping a few inches from him and adopting the same pose. “Tell him, Ada.” He said softly.
“Long ago, during the Last Alliance, Isildur had the chance to get rid of the One Ring. It was a ring of power that the Dark Lord had forged to control all other rings and to enslave the world.” Elrond grimaced at the memory, the bitterness of the victory filling his mouth.
“Isildur kept the Ring in a moment of great folly, ruining all chance of the free peoples of Middle Earth to live in peace and safety. When the Ring deceived him, it was lost to both sides and all knowledge of it for a long time.” Elrond stopped there, and gave Aragorn a hard look.
“Several decades ago, both the White Lady of Lorien, Cirdan of the Grey Havens and I were visited by the Valar in our dreams. We were told that the Bane of Isildur would return, and that the line of Kings would indeed be tested again by the One Ring.”
Aragorn looked down, and Faramir felt a strange impulse to comfort this man. He had suddenly looked so old and tired from long trials that were never spoken of.
“The Lady of Light spoke of the servants of Anarion, and their long tradition of fighting back the forces of evil in their land. The line of Anarion itself has long since died out, yet The line of Hurin has not, and it has stood in the king’s place for long enough that the people view your House as Gondor’s rulers. She spoke of your family’s ability to withstand Mordor’s darkness, and your line’s ability of foresight.” Elrond continued.
Faramir flushed and looked down, unsettled by the Elf Lord’s knowledge of what his family considered a private secret among the Hurin house. His dreams had been a plague for a long part of his life, making him a light sleeper and susceptible to flashes of insight that he would have rather not be privy to.
A warm hand on his shoulder made the ranger look up and he and Aragorn stared at one another for a moment before the older man gave Faramir’s shoulder one more squeeze before falling back to his side.
“What does the Ring have to do with me? With any marriage?” Faramir asked, confused on why his family’s protection of Gondor would be of any help.
“Patience young one, you will understand soon.” Elrond chastised, raising his eyebrow at Faramir’s interruption. When the human blushed slightly and nodded for him to go on, he continued.
“Aragorn will need someone to stand by him when he is tested by the One Ring. We had hoped it would be Arwen…” The Half elf trailed off with a brief look of pain crossing his face. “But that was not to be.”
“Boromir…” Faramir trailed off before promising his brother’s allegiance. He loved his brother, deeply. Far more than anything else, to be truthful. But also in truth, Boromir loved his station in life and to be told that the future ruler of Gondor would not be him would not be taken well. His brother loved him, but Faramir knew just how protective and territorial the Heir to the white rod could be.
“Boromir is a noble man.” Aragorn said, touching Faramir’s arm gently. “He is a great warrior, and will no doubt aid his people every way he knows how.” The unspoken ‘but’ hung in the air before Faramir sighed and nodded. It did not need to be said.
Faramir had one last question, one which he had been dreading to ask ever since he had been told of the prophecy. “I understand that it would be wise for my house to be allied with that of Isildur’s, as a surrogate for Anarion’s house. Also that,” Faramir floundered for a moment, inarticulate for a rare moment. “That perhaps Boromir must lead out people and cannot be spared to leave the country. But why must I be…I mean, why….?”
With that Elrond quirked his lips, a small smile hinting through. Taking a step forward, he tucked a hand under the Man’s chin and tilted his face towards his own. “Why untouched? An easier bond, truly. A man who has already known a woman’s touch would be hard pressed to stay faithful to Estel, for he would be tempted by those around him. True, the same would be for any whose preference was to the opposite sex, but especially one who has already tasted that which they wish for.”
Faramir closed his eyes against the Peredhil’s words, not wanting to acknowledge the truth of what he knew deep inside. His eyes flew open however, when Elrond leaned further in and whispered in his ear: “Besides which, I believe we both know that your preference is not for women, Penneth.”
Faramir took a quick step back, which made him collide into Aragorn who had moved up behind him. “I…I have to go.” Turning he all but ran into the Talan, closing the door behind him.
Aragorn looked at his foster father, silently asking what had happened. Elrond held out his hand and waited until his son stepped forward before leading him away from the Talan. “I have a request for you, something that may help change his mind.”
What happens next?
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