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keelywolfeLess Than Memory
by Keely
Boromir/Faramir, Faramir/Aragorn
Rated R, I suppose...
Note: Just a short bit today, spurred by movie viewing. ^_^
~~*~~
It has been only months since his brother’s passing and already Faramir knows he has lost precious moments, memories fading like water poured into sand. His brother’s face is blurred around the edges of remembrance; details captured and held only by love, not the truth he wishes still remained.
He finds that he must close his eyes to truly visualize Boromir, to remember the sound of his voice, his laughter, the brightness in his eyes whenever they met Faramir’s behind their father’s head. He clings to each slender thread of memory with the grim resolve of one who would cheat death in any manner that he may, even if only in his own thoughts.
Clearest, always, are thoughts of Boromir’s hands. The hands of a Man, strong and large, and yet still so capable with all matters of delicacy, and also in swordplay or barehanded fighting, both. An old scar in the cup of his palm from a sword slipping in his grasp, the line and edge of each callus, skin kissed brown by the sun in warmer months.
Strong hands that had nonetheless trembled in the darkest moments of the night, when they slid along his brother’s paler skin and Faramir did not have to close his eyes to bring those memories to the fore, to remember the sweet taste of guilt in his brother’s kisses. That he does it regardless, closing his eyes in the darkness of his rooms while hands touch and stroke his skin in the palest of false memory, is the cruelest of lies but a lie to oneself is barely a mark to ones honor. A worse stain is that the memory exists at all.
He cannot bring himself to feel shame, not even in his regrets that he will never feel his brother’s touch again. Sweat slick hands beneath the curves of his knees, holding him still, his brother’s voice hoarse and thick and cursing him with every breath for willingness, his pliant delight in everything Boromir offered. Each slow push inside him, the aching stretch of flesh not often used in this fashion and he would bite his lips, holding every moan, every whimpered declaration of his love within so that they might not be discovered.
Every frantic moment, every fearful touch. Every shadow of shame in his brother’s eyes, even hidden as it was by love. This, Faramir will never allow himself to forget, for they are now his memories alone.
And when he weeps, harsh tears, bitterly pained by every droplet that seeps from his eyes, other arms hold him and whisper soft words of comfort that he only knows by tone, the language strange and wonderful to his ears. Words said in the voice of his King, and though his hands are slimmer, softer, he knows they once touched his brother as they touch him and a cold comfort is better to hold in the darkness than nothing at all.
-finis-
by Keely
Boromir/Faramir, Faramir/Aragorn
Rated R, I suppose...
Note: Just a short bit today, spurred by movie viewing. ^_^
~~*~~
It has been only months since his brother’s passing and already Faramir knows he has lost precious moments, memories fading like water poured into sand. His brother’s face is blurred around the edges of remembrance; details captured and held only by love, not the truth he wishes still remained.
He finds that he must close his eyes to truly visualize Boromir, to remember the sound of his voice, his laughter, the brightness in his eyes whenever they met Faramir’s behind their father’s head. He clings to each slender thread of memory with the grim resolve of one who would cheat death in any manner that he may, even if only in his own thoughts.
Clearest, always, are thoughts of Boromir’s hands. The hands of a Man, strong and large, and yet still so capable with all matters of delicacy, and also in swordplay or barehanded fighting, both. An old scar in the cup of his palm from a sword slipping in his grasp, the line and edge of each callus, skin kissed brown by the sun in warmer months.
Strong hands that had nonetheless trembled in the darkest moments of the night, when they slid along his brother’s paler skin and Faramir did not have to close his eyes to bring those memories to the fore, to remember the sweet taste of guilt in his brother’s kisses. That he does it regardless, closing his eyes in the darkness of his rooms while hands touch and stroke his skin in the palest of false memory, is the cruelest of lies but a lie to oneself is barely a mark to ones honor. A worse stain is that the memory exists at all.
He cannot bring himself to feel shame, not even in his regrets that he will never feel his brother’s touch again. Sweat slick hands beneath the curves of his knees, holding him still, his brother’s voice hoarse and thick and cursing him with every breath for willingness, his pliant delight in everything Boromir offered. Each slow push inside him, the aching stretch of flesh not often used in this fashion and he would bite his lips, holding every moan, every whimpered declaration of his love within so that they might not be discovered.
Every frantic moment, every fearful touch. Every shadow of shame in his brother’s eyes, even hidden as it was by love. This, Faramir will never allow himself to forget, for they are now his memories alone.
And when he weeps, harsh tears, bitterly pained by every droplet that seeps from his eyes, other arms hold him and whisper soft words of comfort that he only knows by tone, the language strange and wonderful to his ears. Words said in the voice of his King, and though his hands are slimmer, softer, he knows they once touched his brother as they touch him and a cold comfort is better to hold in the darkness than nothing at all.
-finis-
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no subject
Date: 2003-12-28 04:50 pm (UTC)Have you guys found the pirate yet? It's pretty good quality this time, apparently. I keep seeing decent screen caps.
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Date: 2003-12-28 05:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 05:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-28 05:51 pm (UTC)That was lovely. Very nice.
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Date: 2003-12-30 05:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-28 06:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 05:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-28 07:44 pm (UTC)Your writing makes me want to run out into the night and find Faramir and pet him. Lovely.
PS: You ran off last night! ::drags you back::
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Date: 2003-12-29 12:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 05:25 pm (UTC)I meant to come back, thinking foolishly I could tuck my son back into bed and come straight back.
Ha! Silly mommy, he wanted to get up and play! So I slept on the sofa. *G*
Ah, parenthood.
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Date: 2003-12-29 12:27 am (UTC)*scurries off to spread the word*
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Date: 2003-12-30 05:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-29 12:49 am (UTC)what a lovely lovely image that was
*drools on keyboard*
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Date: 2003-12-30 06:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-29 04:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-29 07:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 06:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-29 09:07 am (UTC)This work is not just fiction, but poetry. I am truly impressed. You are extremely talented and as an editor, I just dont gush, unless I really mean it. Do please keep writing. You've a great ability to paint a mood with the lightest brush stroke. That is a rare gift.
Love, Roo
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Date: 2003-12-31 07:06 am (UTC)Thank you so much, I'm delighted you enjoyed it. :)
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Date: 2003-12-29 07:28 pm (UTC)*glances around* Okay, everyone else has said it, but I'm going to also: YAY! You're back writing LotR! I'm turning into such a Faramir fangirl, and this certainly hit the spot for me, no pun intended.
The last line blew me away. It was so beautiful.
Thank you so much for writing something so amazing that really picked up my night!
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Date: 2003-12-31 07:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-29 07:43 pm (UTC)Indeed, your writing always has that effortless flow, the introduction of one element, and then using its development to introduce something new. It's so effortless to read, it's so smooth and natural, but you managed to combine three very separate ideas in such a short space. It all melds together so that it seems as though it all belongs together, and only in hindsight is it possible to see the careful construction that allows such an effect.
Truly, you are a genius.
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Date: 2003-12-31 06:58 am (UTC)I'm just quite fond of the subject matter. ;)
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Date: 2003-12-29 08:17 pm (UTC)I like how Faramir is desparately trying to hold on to his memories as they slip away. Truly touch and smell memories are the ones that stay with us the longest. And you have satified one of my own personal fetishes . . . Boromir's hands!
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Date: 2003-12-31 06:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 04:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-31 06:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 07:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-31 06:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-30 08:28 am (UTC)I would really love to read more about these guys, especially Faramir. Do you think you'll be inspired to write more? =)
Celt
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Date: 2003-12-30 06:22 pm (UTC)I surely hope so! I likes them, I does. ;)
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Date: 2004-01-04 09:46 pm (UTC)----
dear god. you are the real deal. ::friends::
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Date: 2004-01-09 06:50 am (UTC)Oh, thank you! Faramir has been growing on me, the same way Boromir did, so it only seems to make sense to put them together. ;)
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Date: 2004-01-16 08:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-21 12:55 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-01-22 01:09 am (UTC)may I archive it? I've started a website for lotr fps and would be most honoured to house this fic. In case you want to take a look at the site, http://www.angelfire.com/wizard2/palantir.index and blow the horn to enter ^^
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Date: 2004-01-24 02:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-14 11:34 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-07-31 01:13 pm (UTC)