Yes Faramir will wed Aragorn
Chapter 11: Wedding and Night
"Of course not, I gave you my word," said Faramir. "But I do have conditions."
Aragorn looked relieved. He said, "Name them."
"If you wed me then I take a full part in the government of Arnor and, when you rule there, of Gondor. I will not be ignored or put aside."
"I would expect nothing less."
"And you will take none other to your bed. I will not further be made a laughing stock."
Elrond looked as if he might have something to say but before he could speak Aragorn said, "That is fair. Is there aught else?" Faramir shook his head, and Aragorn said, "You have my word."
"You may live to regret that," said Elrond.
"It's too late," said Aragorn. "And if I do, it will only be one more regret to add to the many. How long do we have before Denethor reaches Lórien?"
"Celeborn's border guards estimate he will be here tomorrow morning."
The shades of evening lengthened before the ceremony was over; throughout, Faramir kept his back straight and his eyes ahead. Everyone whose expression he could see looked reassuringly grave, possibly too much so for a wedding. But Elrond was Arwen's father and Galadriel and Celeborn her grandparents. A family which had perhaps hoped to see her in his position was being sadly disappointed.
He blessed his facility for learning, and if nothing else he admired Aragorn's sure understanding of the intricacies of the rite and his ability to lead without misstep one who had read it through but once. Faramir recognised it from his studies of history; it was perfectly legal and could not be gainsaid, but it was different to the wedding ceremony currently used in Gondor and it was easy to lose one's way in the words and responses. At last, Aragorn turned to face him, and murmured, "We're married now. I'm going to kiss you."
Kissing Aragorn wasn't unpleasant but it was a surprise and Faramir was glad of the warning. "What happens now?" he asked in the same low tone Aragorn had used.
"Feasting and merrymaking." Aragorn looked at Elrond and Celeborn. "Well, a meal at any rate."
"Perhaps in years to come we will look back and find this amusing," suggested Faramir.
"Possibly," said Aragorn. "Though I have no expectation of it."
"Nor I, really. But then, I had no anticipation of much joy at my wedding, unless it was that father was getting me off his hands. I always half expected him to arrange a match with some woman in Harad for that very purpose."
Aragorn looked amused, but he said, "The worry was unnecessary. The Haradrim would never permit one of their women to marry a foreigner. Or their young men, either."
"Had I known it, that would have been a comfort to me."
"I suppose now we lie together," said Faramir, when they were alone. He realised too late how much of his lack of enthusiasm must have shown in his words.
Aragorn shrugged, "In Arnor, where men do marry men often enough for there to be customs, it's not required for the marriage to be consummated for it to be legal. For one thing, how would anyone check?"
"Wouldn't Elrond know?" Faramir sat down on the bed. He was tired, and was only now realising it.
"Probably he would."
"In that case, I hope you know what to do."
Aragorn chose not to answer that, and instead poured them both wine, and sat down beside him. He handed Faramir a goblet.
Faramir sipped his wine; it was the same as they'd been drinking at dinner, a light pinky red smelling vaguely of strawberries, and a little too sweet for Faramir's taste. "I've never asked you," he said, "where do you...we...live?"
"I have a palace at Annúminas, on the shores of Lake Evendim. It's quite pleasant, but I don't spend much time there."
"'Quite pleasant' sounds like a less than enthusiastic recommendation."
"I don't want to get your hopes up. It's not at all like the White Tower of Gondor. The north is a lot more...rustic."
"Parts of the south are fairly rustic," said Faramir, thinking of Lebennin and Pinnath Gelin.
"Yes, I suppose they are." Aragorn slipped an arm around Faramir's waist.
Faramir stiffened for a moment, then deliberately relaxed against him. This would never work if he could not stand to be touched. Aragorn was pleasantly warm, and Faramir slowly grew more comfortable. He closed his eyes.
He felt Aragorn take the goblet from his hand, and put it down somewhere, and then another arm came around him. "I'm going to kiss you again," said Aragorn.
It still felt a little strange to have anyone's mouth on his, but he allowed it and as he did so it became more pleasant and less strange. "Open your mouth," murmured Aragorn.
Faramir complied, and then said, "Oh!" as Aragorn's tongue slipped into his mouth.
He'd opened his eyes and Aragorn smiled at him, and gently pulled them closer. Aragorn said, "Can we try that again?"
"Yes. That is..."
"Don't young people in Gondor kiss like that? I should know, but I was rather too busy there to pay much attention to courting customs."
"Yes..." said Faramir. "At least, I saw a young couple do so at a party once. I remember that father was most displeased and I understood that they were both severely punished for such a lewd public display."
"I'm surprised your father let you go to a party."
"He didn't. I was there without his permission; he punished me for being there at all, and had the people who were holding it punished for inviting me. Somehow, I didn't go to another after that."
"How old were you?"
"I don't know...fourteen?"
"I was nineteen," said Faramir. "Even Ancir, who has never been my greatest admirer, said father treated me as if I were the only daughter of some ancient king."
"I had gathered it was so, hence my certainty that you were the son of Steward spoken of in the prophesy. But even so..." Aragorn leaned forward and murmured, "Open you mouth just a little, and relax."
It was easier, knowing what was coming, and hesitantly Faramir started to push back with his tongue. After a time of this he asked, "This lovemaking..."
"We're doing it," said Aragorn.
"Oh. But..." This wasn't at all like what Haldir had done.
"You're worried it will be like what happened yesterday?"
Was it only yesterday? It was, but it also felt like years. "Yes," said Faramir.
"It won't, I promise. It might be a little painful and I cannot promise that you will entirely enjoy it, nobody can, but it will not be like that." Aragorn looked at him a moment then said, "Do you trust me?"
"You have more names than anyone I ever heard tell of and you used lies and deception to get me here. But in this, yes, I trust you. If nothing else, hurting me more than is needful now would make the rest of your life with me a rack of pain."
"I see you are not so unlike your father as I had supposed," said Aragorn. He leaned forward again and sealed their mouths together.
Aragorn's honesty, for in this Faramir judged he was being honest, allowed him to relax fully. Being held so close was warm, the lights on the talan subdued, and he had drunk just enough wine to make him pleasantly drowsy. He even helped Aragorn remove first his own long wedding robe and then Faramir's, finally leaving them naked on the bed.
"I don't suppose anyone has ever told you," said Aragorn, "but you are very beautiful."
"Men are handsome," said Faramir, amused, "and the handsome one is Boromir."
"Gondor is a very strange place," Aragorn ran a hand slowly down Faramir's side. "I thought so when I lived there. All those beautiful men who never look at each other, and don't seem to have much time for their women either."
"And yet you want to rule."
"I don't want to, exactly. I never even wanted to rule Arnor. It's my destiny." Aragorn's expression was rueful. "Or so I'm told."
"Do they try to rule through you?" Faramir asked.
"No." Aragorn took Faramir's hand and started to kiss his fingers, "I make my own decisions, and Elrond and Gandalf look at me as if I were some particularly well trained performing flea. My greatest victory so far is not wresting my crown from Ancir, or any of the battles I've fought," Aragorn lowered his voice, "it's persuading Elrond that he has to pay taxes like every other nobleman in Arnor."
Faramir couldn't help it: he laughed. "You make..." Aragorn placed his fingers on Faramir's lips and he lowered his voice obediently, "...Elrond pay taxes?"
"Yes. He may be my friend and foster-father, but I can't let him off on those grounds or where would I be?"
Faramir leaned his head on Aragorn's shoulder, stifling his amusement. The shoulder was firm and smelled pleasantly of warm male and he kissed it. He felt Aragorn run his hands through his hair, "Beautiful," Aragorn said. "It looked exquisite against your robes, like a raven's wing."
Faramir felt his face heat; nobody had ever said such things to him before. He kissed slowly down Aragorn's chest, wondering if he were doing the right thing. As Aragorn made no comment or protest, he supposed that he was.
"Suck me...there," Aragorn said, and indicated a nipple.
Faramir shrugged and did so. He was startled when Aragorn gave a low, heartfelt moan. Faramir concluded this was pleasure and sucked more strongly. Aragorn yelled, though he immediately tried to stifle it. Faramir moved to the other nipple and meanwhile replaced his mouth on the first with his fingers.
"You learn fast," said Aragorn.
"I am not ill-read," replied Faramir. Then added, "I wasn't supposed to read those books, of course."
"Oh, of course."
"And I am sure there were particulars in which they were wrong."
"Probably," after a time, Aragorn pulled him back up to kiss him again. "Suck me there for long enough and I peak from that alone."
Faramir was sceptical, but did not disagree. He could feel Aragorn's hardness pressed into his belly and his own against Aragorn's thigh. He was a little nervous, but not enough to want to stop. Aragorn's hands travelled down his sides, and then pressed his buttocks firmly, holding their lower bodies together. Faramir rolled his hips, luxuriously rutting against Aragorn's body. He moaned, softly.
He had never conceived of such a thing, and decided the books he had read had been seriously deficient. He'd guessed that anyway: they'd been either high romances in which burning kisses were followed by children with not much information about what happened in between, or basic and to the point, making lovemaking sound as interesting as a description of how to construct a keystone arch.
This time it was his turn to pull away, "I do not think you want me to peak yet."
Aragorn shook his head, like one attempting to come to his senses. "No," he said, "not quite yet." He kissed Faramir again, "I want you to roll on your belly."
Faramir felt his nervousness return. "Why?" he asked.
"Not for anything unpleasant. At least, I hope not. And I do not intend to join with you like that."
Reassured, Faramir rolled over. He felt Aragorn move away and kiss down his spine, pausing to tickle his lower back with his tongue. "Open your legs," said Aragorn.
Faramir glanced behind him, but did as Aragorn asked. He felt Aragorn part his buttocks, and a moment later he yelped in surprise as he licked him.
"Why...?" was all he could say.
"Why not?" said Aragorn. He parted Faramir's buttocks again and slid his fingers over the opening. "I lusted for you before I met you. But this is better." He returned to his licking.
"Please, stop!" said Faramir after a time.
"Do you not enjoy this?"
"Yes! But I will peak if you continue."
Aragorn gave a soft laugh, "It appears we both have our weaknesses." He indicated without words that Faramir should turn back, and kissed his way back up Faramir's chest. Given where Aragorn's mouth had been, Faramir was not certain about kissing him open mouthed again, but to his surprise it did not disgust him but rather fanned the flames of his need.
"What happens now?" asked Faramir.
"Now I find where I put the..." Aragorn searched under the pillows, then down by the side of the bed. "Ah!" he said. "It is a salve."
"It goes on me and in you. It is quite harmless."
"Elvish enchantment?" said Faramir, not quite trusting it.
"No, I make it myself." At Faramir's disbelieving look he said, "I find such activities restful. I told you I didn't much want to be a king; the truth is, I wanted to be a healer, and I still think I would have been more use."
"Very well," said Faramir.
"I think..." said Aragorn. "Yes, this bed is about the right height."
"Like so, and I'll..."
After a moment, Faramir saw what was wanted. He lay across the bed, on his back, buttocks at the edge, and Aragorn knelt between his legs. "That's going to hurt your knees," said Faramir. He reached up for the nearest pillow.
"I'll live," said Aragorn, but he took the pillow. He wetted his fingers with the salve and gently parted Faramir's buttocks. Faramir tensed, expecting pain, but Aragorn used but one finger and he opened surprisingly easily.
"Are you sure that's not some elvish enchantment?" said Faramir.
"Quite sure. Herbs, leaves and water."
Faramir gasped, but not with pain: Aragorn had touched something within. He was not sure he liked it, but wanted it to be touched again. Aragorn used two fingers. This was stretching but still not really painful, and Faramir sighed. Aragorn leaned forward and took Faramir's prick into his mouth. Faramir's eyes flew open in surprise at the heat and wetness. This continued for some time, and Faramir allowed himself to drift on the sensations. Then he felt cooler air on his prick and Aragorn at his entrance.
He tensed and Aragorn said, "Push down. It will be easier." Faramir obeyed and it was. Aragorn's prick in him was sore but not dreadfully so, and it was exciting in an odd way he'd never before experienced.
"You are lovely," said Aragorn.
"I expect you say that to everyone who lets you put your prick in them," said Faramir.
Aragorn smiled back at him, "As it happens, no I don't. Not that there have been all that many. Oh!" He reached for Faramir's hand and put it around his prick, holding it in place. "Show me," he said, "show me what you like so that I will know."
Faramir touched himself as if he were alone in his bed. It was odd to have someone looking at him, but that only served to make more exciting. Strangely fast, he felt it approaching. "I will peak," he said. "Now!" and it happened. He felt his body grasp the prick within him and just as in his dreams Aragorn moaned aloud, and held his hips as it happened for him, too.
What happens next?
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