The person is either Galadriel or Arwen
Chapter 8: The Dangers Lurking in the Golden Wood
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Faramir stared curiously at the elven lady who walked towards him. Her resemblance to Elrond and his sons was striking. She was gazing back at him he realised through cool eyes that scanned him curiously. Her movements were swift yet extremely graceful as she came to a stop in front of him and ran her eyes up and down him in a manner that he found strangely disturbing.
There was something disturbing in that look he knew immediately and found himself backing away unconsciously, as her grey eyes bore in to him. She was taller than him, as tall as Thorongil he realised.
“You must be Faramir,” she said, her voice soft and pleasant, and yet he could not hear any friendliness in it. But wasn’t that how all the other elves had been.
“Yes, my lady,” he replied, his voice coming out strangely hoarse.
The cool, appraising gaze stayed on him and he felt extremely uncomfortable, “I – I have just arrived,” he said hurriedly, “Lord Elrond, said I need to –“
“Arwen, I see you have met our new arrival.”
Galadriel stepped out from behind the trees, her movements as graceful as those of Arwen.
“Yes, grandmother, I have. Is he suitable for Estel’s purpose?” Arwen turned towards the other elf abruptly
“Yes, he is,” Galadriel replied and Faramir again had that feeling of being ignored.
“So, he is untouched?” Arwen asked and returned her gaze to him, harder and colder than before it seemed.
“Yes, he is.”
“Father has examined him properly?”
Faramir flushed as he realised everyone there seemed to know something as intimate as that. Even the women knew! He backed away a little more.
“Yes, Arwen, and the wedding will happen in a week. You should return to your talan, child,” Galadriel told him.
Faramir thought he would have protested but Arwen seemed to be looking at him in open fury now and he found himself only too happy to leave. He felt angry with himself as he returned to the quarters he had been assigned. To run away scared, and from an elven woman at that! Was it a wonder then his father had so happily agreed to send him off with a stranger to be wed!
He sat down heavily on the bed as the events of the day slowly began to sink in. He was to be wed... to another man... with his father’s approval. And the examination... he felt tears prick his eyes as he thought of the way so many others had witnessed his intimate parts and in such a way.
And he was yet to know whom this man was save that he had far too many names for Faramir to keep track of. What was he to the north kingdom. There had been a line of kings there, Faramir knew but the histories in Gondor had gone strangely silent about them. This scruffy looking man surely couldn’t be connected to those noble and regal kings could he?
But even if he wasn’t, why was it so fearful to have to wed this man? After all, he was surely the same man he dreamt of. But he doesn’t want you, a little voice in his head said. He wants Boromir. Everyone does.
Dusk was falling outside when he heard footsteps and wiping his eyes, stood up hurriedly, wincing as the bruises on his back were pulled at.
Haldir stepped into the talan with two more elves behind him. They looked much like him.
“Faramir,” the elf’s voice was much less curt than earlier, “I have come to apologise.”
The young ranger gaped at this unexpected event.
“W-why?” he asked, and suddenly found himself hoping Haldir would say it was all a mistake and he could return to Gondor. But was that what he really wanted?
“For hurting you. Elrond said those bruises were caused by our spears,” Haldir was replying. His two companions stood on either side of him, their faces expressionless, “It may hurt later, so I have come to offer you a remedy. We use a salve that is quite effective. If you will come with me, I will apply some on your back.”
“Of course,” Faramir said smiling a little. So these elves could be a little concerned and kind too. Thank Eru for that.
They passed through a small bower on the way and he was surprised to notice that Thorongil stood there with Arwen, holding her hands and speaking to her. He found himself glancing back even as they walked ahead. Thorongil hadn’t seen him but Arwen had. They were kissing now he realised with a jolt. But of course, Thorongil would have other lovers, he thought miserably. And elven lovers at that. Female elven lovers.
He realised Haldir was glancing at him with a strange expression and hurried along, trying not to think of what he had just seen.
Haldir lead him through trees and pathways into a small clearing in the middle of which stood a small stone fountain with benches around it. Bushes filled with sweet scented white flowers grew all around them.
Faramir stared at the setting uncomprehendingly before turning to Haldir.
“Take off your shirt and kneel down over this bench,” Haldir said before he could speak, “The salve is made from these flowers.”
“Oh,” Faramir said and then hesitated, “I – I could apply it myself. There’s really no need for you to trouble yourself so –“
“It is your lower back and will be hard to reach,” Haldir said, “Besides, Elrond was quite annoyed. We would like to apologise in full measure.”
Faramir nodded at that and kneeling down removed his tunic, telling himself Haldir had seen him unclothed anyway. The bruises went below the waistband of his trousers.
“You should remove those too,” Haldir suggested.
“I’ll loosen them,” Faramir mumbled and did so. He then lay over the bench on his stomach as directed. He felt Haldir’s hands rest on his lower back, right on the bruises and yelped.
“Oh dear, I’m sorry,” Haldir said though his tone sounded quite unapologetic.
Faramir laughed shakily but then one of Haldir’s brothers grabbed his hands and before he could realise it tied his wrists together with a rough rope, which they then lopped around the stem of the fountain even as Faramir began shouting in protest.
“What are you doing? Haldir! No, wait…”
Haldir had grabbed him by the waist and pulled off his trousers. Faramir tried to kick out with his legs but hands held him down, pressing into his bruises again and he cried out.
“What are you doing?” he yelled furiously as he felt his legs being pushed apart and then ropes were looped around his ankle and tied to the legs of the bench he lay over, even as he was held down by the other two elves. He glared up at them now through angry eyes.
“You let me go,” he was aware his voice was sounding hitched and panic stricken.
“They won’t let you go unless I tell them to,” Arwen’s voice reached him and he stared at her.
“You – but…”
“And I won’t tell them to unless you agree to do as you are told,” she said looking down at him.
She knelt down beside the bench and raised her hand to his face. He stared at her long fingers as they neared his face. She ran a sharp fingernail down his forehead and cheek. A ring glinted on her other finger, Faramir realised as he tried not wince at the sharp pain.
She noticed him gazing at the ring.
“Estel gave this to me. He is mine, do you hear you silly little boy?”
“I-“
She slapped him across his face suddenly, and he cried out at the pain. She slapped him again harder and he cried out again as pain flared through the side of his face, and something wet trickled down his cheek. Her ring had cut him.
“I shall wed him and no other, certainly not some unknown and insignificant creature such as you! He had not even heard of you before he rode out for you, and now you are to wed him.”
She rose agitatedly and Faramir lifted his head fearfully as he tried to figure out what she was going to do. Haldir still held him down, and his brothers stood by ready to pounce on him should he try anything untoward.
“I don’t,” he tried speaking only to be halted by Arwen’s angered voice.
“And you had to turn out to be a virgin you miserable little wretch. You will not marry him do you hear? And there is only one way to prevent it! You will have to be claimed!”
“Wh-what?”
Arwen knelt by him again and this time lifted his chin with her fingers as though she were gripping something distasteful and spoke very deliberately, “You will let Haldir claim you.”
“No!” Faramir tried to wrench away from her grip, “I won’t.”
He couldn’t. Thorongil was the only man he would allow to claim him, he knew that now. There was to be no other. He had been happy to be left alone by others so far, because he had always known deep inside him that there would be only one for him, and now he knew who that was. He didn’t care whether Thorongil loved him or not, he didn’t care that it Was Boromir Thorongil preferred or that it was Arwen he had recently kissed, all he cared was that he desired none but Thorongil.
Arwen slapped him again and he cried out again. She grabbed a fistful of his hair in her hands, “If you will not, then Haldir will claim you forcefully! The Galadhrim are sworn in service to my grandmother and they will do as I tell them. Isn’t that so, Haldir?”
“Yes, my lady,” Haldir replied from behind Faramir.
“You must be out of your wits!” Faramir said hoarsely.
Arwen wrapped her fingers around his throat, “Speak some more, little one,” she said angrily, “I have waited for Estel for many years. I will not let some upstart little thing like you come in my way.”
Faramir began coughing as the fingers tightened cutting off his supply of air. He felt his chest heave against the hard stone surface of the bench. Arwen let go of his throat and he gasped in relief only to panic as he realised that behind him, Haldir was lifting his waist.
“Hurry up!” Arwen spoke imperiously.
He felt smooth fingers slip between his legs and part his buttocks and then hesitate.
“He is unprepared,” Haldir said uncertainly.
“He asked for it,” Arwen said and glaring at Faramir.
He stared back at her defiantly. Thorongil may never have him now but he was not going to give this elf the pleasure of having her way so easily. She could humiliate him, hurt him but he wouldn’t give up.
Haldir slipped a finger into him and he yelped at the pain. Elrond had been gentle in comparison. Another finger slipped in stretching him and he cried out in real pain this time as the tight, dry ring of muscle was stretched. His breath came out in short, harsh gasps as the fingers pushed deeper and deeper into his resisting passage.
“That’s right, little one… cry. Estel would love to bed someone who keeps weeping, would he not?” Arwen’s voice dripped with scorn.
A third finger entered him and he cried louder, tears trickling down his cheeks. He couldn’t take it any longer. Surely this was not how it was to feel? He had heard from others that lovemaking was a pleasurable act. Surely, it could not hurt so?
Perhaps Arwen was right. He must be unworthy of Thorongil, if he could not take pleasure out of this. Perhaps it was better this way. Thorongil could wed Arwen.
Haldir pulled his fingers out just then and that sent more pain shooting through Faramir’s hips. There was worse to come he knew. And it would not be just the pain but the knowledge that once Haldir was done with him, he would not be fit to wed Thorongil.
He felt more tears course down his face as Haldir’s hands pushed his legs further apart.
What happens next?