Faramir's Dream

"Seek for the Sword that was broken:
In Imladris it dwells;
There shall be counsels taken
Stronger than morgul spells
There shall be show a token
That Doom is near at hand,
For Isildur's Bane shall waken,
And the Halfling forth shall stand."

-JRRT, Fellowship of the Ring

Lady of light. That's what the arrogant guardian—what was his name again? Oh yes, Haldir. That's what Haldir had called her. Faramir stood tall at the bottom of the stairs, but he couldn't help his open-mouthed stare as the most beautiful being he'd ever seen descended. Galadriel. Even her name called up visions of light, soft and warm, then piercing and driving away the darkness.

When she finally stopped in front of him at the bottom of the stairs, he dipped his chin down in a sign of respect. When he looked up again, he noticed that she was nearly as tall as he was. He wasn't sure if that intimidated him or not. Most Gondorian women were much shorter. He was, however, sure that Lady Galadriel's mere presence was intimidating, but also strangely stimulating. He felt his face flushing as she smiled at him, a soft mysterious smiled that showed on her lips and in her eyes.

She finally spoke, a soft silky sound that wrapped around him and filtered out all other sounds.

"You have traveled far, Son of Denethor. What brings you to the Golden Wood?"

He knew that she had only asked him out of courtesy. She'd known why he was here ever since he set foot across the border.

"I come seeking your aid in unraveling the puzzle of my dreams. My father believes that you can help."

"I can. Come with me."

She reached out, her delicate white fingers wrapping around his callused, work-roughened hand. He followed her, his feet sounding loud and seeming so clumsy next to her Elven-light steps. She looked more like she was floating than walking, and Faramir had to give himself a mental shake to keep alert as he nearly tumbled off the side of a narrow walkway, high in the great tree.

Galadriel led him down and around to the ground. He stayed with her, his hand clasped in hers, as she walked further, down a narrow forest path to a small glade, full of sweet smelling flowers and protected by a tight ring of trees. She directed his attention to one side, where there was a deep pool that reflected the silvery light of the moon as it filtered through the tree-tops.

"Come Faramir, you are weary. I will attend you as you tell me of your dreams."

He stood there for a moment, not quite understanding until she smiled at him and waved her hand toward the pool. She meant for him to take a bath?! And she would attend him? Oh…

Faramir swallowed hard and raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Do not be shy, soldier of Gondor. I have found that my best thinking is done when my body is relaxed. This will refresh you as well. I promise."

Although he wasn't sure that this was the best idea, it was Lady Galadriel asking him to do it, so he began to shed his clothing, saving his breeches for last. He wanted to be close to the pool so he could slip right in before he stripped completely. He was embarrassed that he'd gotten somewhat aroused by her presence. He hoped the water was cool.

Galadriel didn't normally handle these situations in this way. She could help Faramir decipher the dreams, but that wasn't her top priority tonight. He hadn't realized it, but she could feel a great aching loneliness in him. He knew that his father loved Boromir best, and he had never found a way to fill that emptiness. He worked harder, drove himself to exhaustion, and tried to gain Denethor's approval, but was unable to do so.

Galadriel felt all that. She knew that such longings could make a man insane, make him do things out of desperation that he would otherwise not do. She also knew that Sauron was gaining power again, perhaps had found the One Ring, and this Captain of Gondor would play a role in it's story. She had the chance here, tonight, to tip the scales toward the light, and away from the darkness born of desperation.

She would heal him, a little, this night.


Faramir wasn't so sure about this. He had expected the Elven queen to listen to his dream, then tell him something even more confusing than the dream. He was only doing this because Denethor, his father, had insisted. Of course, Boromir offered to go instead. He'd had the dream once too. But Faramir had it every night, it was so clear. He wanted to seek Imladris, the place named in the dream, but Denethor said that would be for Boromir to do. Faramir's place was to gather facts and return to Gondor with the needed information.

Denethor loved Faramir, but he loved Boromir best. No matter what Faramir accomplished, Boromir could have done it better. That's why Faramir was here, Boromir was needed to command the soldiers holding Osgiliath and protecting the city. Faramir could be spared to go on this little information-gathering mission, Boromir could not.

Faramir sighed softly, trying to control his thoughts. It did no good to travel there. He would never equal Boromir in his father's eyes.

He had turned his back on her to undress and now he turned to look at her over his shoulder, just before he hurriedly slid his breeches over his hips and down, taking care to step out of the completely, so he didn’t trip and fall headfirst into the pool. He noticed that Galadriel had turned her back on him, allowing him some privacy. She was kneeling near a small wooden box tucked into the shadows under a tree. When she turned back around, Faramir was already in the water, seated on the rough stone bench that circumvented the pool.

The water was warm, but not too warm, and reached to just below his shoulders. Galadriel came to stand behind him, setting two large towels on the ground, well back of the edge. She leaned over and handed him a basket of soap, telling him to choose one. While he was busy lifting each of the softly scented soaps to his nose, he missed the sound of whispering silk gliding over skin, so he started when she slid into the water next to him, a soft white light emanating from her naked form. She had pinned up most of her hair, but tendrils of the soft blond locks still framed her face.

He couldn't help but stare as she moved to stand in front of him, the water not concealing anything, only softening it. His eyes strayed to her breasts, then quickly, back up to her blue, blue eyes. In them, he saw only comfort, and softness, and acceptance. She said nothing, but her voice filled his mind.

"Tonight, your questions will be answered, but more importantly, you will find your own worth—not dependent on anyone's opinion of you. This is my real gift, to see into your soul, and show you your own potential. And you, Faramir, have a great part to play in the upcoming struggle. So lay down your burdens, and your pain, and let me comfort you."

He simply nodded and handed the basket of soap back to her, keeping one that smelled of fresh mountain air and sunshine. She took both from him, and leaned forward, her chest coming into contact with his own as she reached over his shoulder and set the basket down on the edge of the pool.

He gasped as soft warm flesh pressed lightly against his own. He felt his face heat up as the tingling contact completely aroused him. He noticed that she was not immune to it either as her own cheeks colored and he felt the gentle probing of hardened nipples against his chest.

She finally leaned back, a cloth in one hand and the soap in the other. She reached between their bodies to wet the cloth, dunking the soap under at the same time. When she lifted both above the water again, it was to rub the soap into the cloth, making a thick lather. She leaned forward again, giving Faramir a teasing smile and a little rub up and down his chest with her body while she set the soap down.

Faramir gasped once again and finally relaxed totally, letting Galadriel do as she would. He suspected that, though unconventional, her little plan would not only work, but be thoroughly enjoyable as well. And he intended to do just that. Enjoy it. After all, he was only human.

Galadriel felt his body loosen under hers and she smiled again as she leaned away from him again. She lifted one of his arms up out of the water and used the soap covered cloth to stroke its whole length, from shoulder to finger tips. She paused, holding his hand lightly as she turned it palm-upwards and gently washed each and every finger, careful to get in between each one. She lifted his arm up then, the soapy cloth trailing back along its underside, then a slow drag across the top of his chest over to his other arm. As Faramir rinsed one arm, she treated the other with the same care, finally pushing it back under the water to rinse.

One more time, she leaned against his muscled chest, gasping as he wrapped his arms around her, drawing her closer, pressing her slender curves against the hard planes of his body. He tilted his head, lips seeking the soft skin of her throat. He was rewarded with another soft gasp as he made contact, soft butterfly kisses tickling and teasing her heated skin.

She leaned back now, tipping her head, giving him more room to work. The soapy cloth forgotten, dropped behind him as her hands tangled themselves in his hair, both of them moaning quietly as they began to explore.
Galadriel let him taste her only a few moments more before she pulled his head up, cupping his face in her hands. He looked up at her, lips parted, his only movement the rapid rise and fall of his chest with each breath.

She gave him what could only be called a naughty smirk and shook her head.

"Patience, oh Faramir the Passionate. We have time."

He nodded and bit back a tiny groan. He wasn't sure if he could show patience. He knew she could feel his arousal as it pressed into her thigh. She didn't give him time to think on it though as she quickly retrieved the soap from behind him.

This time, she stepped further away, breaking all contact between them. Faramir gave a tiny cry of frustration, but he stayed seated on the bench. Galadriel lowered herself to her neck, wetting her entire body. She moved back to his side, gracefully stepping up on the stone bench where he was sitting. Now, she was only partially covered by the water. The moonlight made her glow even more. She moved back from him, motioning him to turn so he could see her clearly.

She soaped her own hands first, then lathered her arms. She lifted a dainty foot and planted it on the upper edge of the pool, running her soap-slicked hands from her toes up to her thigh, slowly, sighing softly as she did so. She switched legs. Her blue eyes darkening as she noticed Faramir's eyes glued to the barely visible pink lips between her legs. She added more soap to her hands as she moved her leg off the ledge.

Now she tilted her head, arching her back, offering soft round breasts and pink nipples hardened to nubs to Faramir's gaze. Her hands moves slowly down the sides of each heavy swell, pausing to cup them, teasingly pinching each nipple before sliding her hands down her belly, stopping to allow only her fingers slide between her slightly parted thighs, hissing as she came into contact with her own arousal.

Faramir tried to swallow, but found that his mouth had gone completely dry. He wanted to reach for her, or for himself, but he did neither, knowing that one touch of his hardened length might be his undoing right now. He could only watch this goddess as she stood there before him, wreathed in light and shiny soap bubbles.

She reached for his hand and pulled him up to stand with her.

Instead of using the soap to wash the parts of him that had been missed earlier, she pressed herself against him, wrapping deceptively strong arms around him, fitting her curves to him. She rubbed him up and down, both of them hissing and groaning as his cock came into contact with the heated core between her legs. She gently turned him around and proceeded to cover his back side with soap as well, her hands on his chest, splayed open, fingers pinching his nipples lightly, laughing when he whimpered.

Finally, when they were both breathless and unsteady, Galadriel stepped back down into the water, leading Faramir with her to the center of the pool. She faced him, leaning in, a light teasing brush of her lips on his before she put both hands on his broad shoulder and pushed him down under the water. As he came back up, sputtering and shaking water from his face, he heard her silvery peals of laughter.

He lunged, reaching for her quickly retreating form. He barely caught her, the residue of soap still on her skin allowing her to nearly escape as he pulled her to him, the impact of their bodies cushioned by the water. This time, she didn't deny him as he hungrily captured her lips. He nibbled on her lower lip, then swiped his tongue across it, finally pressing his lips to hers.

She melted into his arms, his kiss drawing her in. And she kissed him back, opening her mouth at the gentle probing of his tongue, smiling against his mouth as he tasted her, moaning. He pressed one hand behind her neck, holding her still as he plundered her mouth. She wrapped both arms around him, under his arms, her hands moving up to squeeze and knead the hard muscles of his back. He wrapped his other arm around her, lifting her from the bottom of the pool as he slowly backed towards the side, never breaking the kiss.

He stopped to take a breath when his legs hit the rough stone of the bench. Galadriel, who could touch the bottom now, pushed him back so he sat down in the water. She straddled his thighs, her hands open and stroking his chest, then over his shoulders as she bent her head to suck gently on his collarbone, leaving a faint mark.

Faramir growled low in his throat as he moved his hands under the white globes of her ass, lifting and drawing her closer to him, her breasts breaking the surface of the water, his lips burning a trail down the soft skin of her throat. She threw her head back and arched into his mouth as he sucked a hard pink nipple into his mouth, gently nipping with his teeth and pulling. She whimpered—in pain or desire—neither of them were really sure.

He looked up, his hand drawing her head down to him for another breath-stealing kiss of possession. She reached between them, her nails grazing along the hardened length of his shaft. He shuddered, crying out into her mouth. His hands moved to her hips, lifting her while she positioned his cock at her heated entrance. She let go of him and broke the kiss.

"Now. Take me now."

He licked his lips, holding her eyes with his, and dropped her hard onto his lap, impaling her. She sucked in a deep lungful of air as he filled her, her body adjusting quickly to his size. She rested her hands on his shoulders, his still tight on her hips. She began a slow movement up and down, but Faramir was too far gone for that. He physically lifted her time and again, dropping her, varying the pace, controlling her ride. She could do little but hang on and enjoy.

He began to thrust upwards as he pushed her back down, dragging her over his erection, moving and adjusting so that the hard nub of her clit made contact with him nearly every stroke. She responded by digging her fingernails into his shoulders, leaving half-moon impression there. He was moving her fast now, thrusting up, slamming her down on his lap. The water in the little pool started splashing, little tidal waves crashing up and over the side as Faramir continued to pummel her.

Galadriel couldn't breathe, couldn't see as he lifted her time and again, then let her drop, little stars exploding like fireworks behind her closed eyelids as he brushed her clit each time. She knew it wouldn't be long. As he lifted her one more time, nearly pulling out completely, then drove his hips upwards as he dropped her, she cried out, gripping his cock, shuddering around him with her climax.

Her departure over the edge sent him spiraling toward his own climax. He cried out into her neck as he drew her still shuddering body close and spilled his seed deep into her. Nothing but the sound of breathing filled the glade for the next few minutes.

When she could finally move again, Galadriel took his face in her hands, gently kissing his forehead. He smiled into her eyes as they slowly disentangled their limbs and climbed out of the pool, pausing to dry off, then hurriedly dress between kisses.

She led him back to her quarters where they undressed again, and fell into the downy softness, where she told him of the meaning behind the dreams, as far as she could. She told him that there would be a quest, and though he would very much wish to go, it was Boromir's destiny. His own part in it would take place much closer to Gondor, and he was needed there.

When he started to protest, to ask why, seeing this as the way to finally prove himself to his father, she kissed him to silence, then loved him again—hoping he would not rashly throw his life away to gain his father's approval—hoping that she had given him enough strength to see himself as others did.

As he rode his horse away from the city, he turned and once more and saw her, the lady of light, and he would always remember that she gave him some of that light for his own to use no matter how dark it might get.




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