Title: From Rivendell to Rauros
(WIP 12/?, R-NC-17, yep, more hobbit/man sex)
By: Ithiliana
Section Rating Above.
Overall: G at start and in places but overall R, possibly NC-17 eventually (much much later but just in case-I don't quite trust Aragorn and Boromir...)
Pairings: Frodo/Faramir, Boromir/Aragorn, Pippin/Merry (implied)

Feedback: Always appreciated!

Disclaimer: Original characters and storyline belong to the Tolkien estate. This story is fan fiction, written with no intention to trespass on copyright, and I make no money off it at all.

Author's Notes: Major premise: Faramir has another dream and follows Boromir in secret, forcing him to take Faramir along on journey to Imladris. Minor premise: Sam is not along on Quest, having married Rosie and started family back in the Shire before action begins.

This AU combines book and movieverse elements, adds water, and stirs. The dates in the text, months and years, are drawn from Tolkien's Chronology in The Appendix published in Return of the King.



FROM RIVENDELL TO RAUROS

January 14-15, 3018</i>

Gandalf risked a little real light, the flare from his staff showing huge pillars, ornately carved, extending far into the distance. "Behold the great realm and city of the Dwarrowdelf."

Silence fell as the Fellowship gazed at the mighty work of the Dwarves.

Gandalf said, "I now know where we are, but we need sleep before the final part of our journey. We will need to find a way down tomorrow. If all goes well, we will be out of Moria well before nightfall."

Boromir was glad when Pippin and Merry finally left him to prepare the daymeal. While Boromir had enjoyed working and traveling with the two young hobbits, it was unusual for them to spend the entire day at his side. He was glad to see they seemed to be in a good mood, laughing together, as they talked to Frodo, but Boromir wished to talk to Faramir in private. Here, in this immense cavern, they should be able to speak without being overheard.

Boromir walked over to Faramir, noticing that his brother sat where he could see Frodo.

"May we talk?" Boromir asked quietly.

Faramir said nothing, his eyes grave on Boromir's face, but nodded. He stood and walked apart with Boromir, following him down the hall of pillars until they were well outside the light cast by Gandalf's staff, standing close to each other in the shadowed hall.

"Do not deny what I saw this morning," Boromir said.

"I could say you are reading too much into two friends sleeping together for warmth," Faramir replied. "But I do not choose to deny that Frodo and I are lovers."

"How could you," Boromir nearly shouted, held himself back. The echoes in the hall were tricky, could carry sound oddly.

"How dare you question whom I chose to love?"

Faramir's voice was low but conveyed his anger, Boromir thought. He wished they had sufficient light for him to see his brother's face clearly.

"I…you…," Boromir was frustrated. It was so clearly wrong, and yet Faramir did not seem to see it.

"If we do not endanger the Fellowship or Frodo's quest," Faramir said.

"You do endanger us all," Boromir interrupted him. "The Ring…"

"I care nothing for the Ring," Faramir said. "Only for Frodo. And our behavior is no concern of yours, as yours is no concern of mine."

"Me?" Boromir did not understand how he had become the subject.

"What you and Aragorn do," Faramir said.

Boromir grabbed for Faramir's shoulders, intending to shake him into silence. Faramir blocked his move sharply, striking his arms aside with sharp blows on the inside of his wrists. Even through his vambraces, Boromir could feel the blows and thought there would be bruises later.

Faramir stepped back. "I will not fight with you, brother," he said. "We will not discuss this again." He turned and walked back to the light.

Boromir rubbed his wrists. Despite his anger, he had to admire Faramir's speed and response, effective even in the dark. But then, Boromir thought, Faramir had always been strongest in defense of others.

Slowly, Boromir followed his brother back to the light. Pippin and Merry called him over to eat, and he smiled at them as he joined them. They, at least, offered him no problems whatsoever. He ignored their whispers when Faramir and Frodo finished their daymeal and, taking their blankets, curled up to sleep together again.

* * * * * * *

Frodo woke suddenly. He'd heard, or maybe he'd dreamed he'd heard, the padding of soft footsteps behind him, turned to see the glow of eyes approaching, heard the hissing of breath over sharp teeth.

But as he raised himself on one arm to look around, he could hear and see nothing beyond the Fellowship sleeping amongst the huge pillars in a corner of the hall.

Frodo could see Gandalf standing on guard, the dim light of his staff lighting the bases of the immense pillars which surrounded them like trees in some unimaginable forest of stone.

Frodo felt better than he had in days. Moria had not proven to be as dangerous as he had feared, and he'd been able to sleep warmly and deeply with Faramir. His dream had awakened him, but he did not feel tired.

He lay back down, resting his head on Faramir's arm, wriggling closer to Faramir who woke at his movement. "Frodo?" he said quietly. "Are you all right? Is it the dream?"

"I'm fine. No dream," Frodo said. He wasn't really lying, he assured himself. He hadn't had the dream Faramir was asking about.

Frodo turned, facing Faramir, ran his hands down Faramir's chest, exulting at his quick response when Frodo's hands slid below his waist. Faramir reached down with his free hand to capture one of Frodo's and gently pulled it up to his mouth, kissing it. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"What do you think," Frodo whispered back, trying to slide one of his feet between Faramir's legs as he slid his hand between his thighs.

Faramir stiffened, his breath catching, then pulled his arm out from under Frodo's head to grasp his roving hand, rolled Frodo onto his back, holding both hands above his head, moving to pin Frodo down. His tongue, then his breath, was warm in Frodo's ear.

"I should have asked 'why,' love," he said. "Or even 'how.' Is this truly the place or time?"

Frodo wriggled happily, thrusting up against Faramir, turning his head to nuzzle Faramir's cheek, nibble his earlobe. Frodo wanted a kiss, and, finally, Faramir claimed his mouth, the deep kiss burning down Frodo's back. He moaned softly into Faramir's mouth. It had been so long.

Faramir pulled back briefly. He shifted to hold both Frodo's wrists in one hand, then placed the other gently over Frodo's mouth. "Not here and now," he started.

"Why not here and now," Frodo spoke against Faramir's palm. "Everybody knows, I'm sure, so…."

"Everybody?" Faramir slid his hand away from Frodo's mouth, down to his cheek, entwined his fingers in Frodo's hair.

"Merry and Pippin know, so, yes, I think everybody does. Unless," Frodo hesitated. "They might be a little afraid to tell Aragorn, but otherwise…Boromir talked to you about us, didn't he?" He hadn't missed Boromir take Faramir off into the hall earlier, or that the two had come back separately, both looking angry.

He felt rather than heard Faramir sigh. "Yes, he did." Faramir said nothing further, and Frodo did not ask. He was sure he knew what Boromir's response was in any case.

Frodo tried to kiss Faramir, but could not quite reach him, held down as he was.

"Why not," he repeated. "Everybody knows."

Silence, then "All right," Faramir breathed, fingers tracing Frodo's lips. Frodo kissed the fingers when they halted. "But quietly, please. There's a great difference between everybody knowing, and everybody watching."

Frodo nodded. Perhaps it was the time since Rivendell, perhaps the need for quiet in the long dark of Moria with its looming sense of danger, or perhaps simply Faramir's body pressing against his, but Frodo was so hard he was almost in pain.

"Please, quickly," he said.

Faramir shifted his weight off him, to Frodo's disappointment, and turned him gently to his side, holding him in one arm, lying spooned around him. His other hand pushed Frodo's trousers down partway, and wrapped, warm and calloused, around Frodo's member. Frodo gasped, arching his back, and Faramir covered his mouth as he began rubbing softly, gentle strokes up and down.

Frustrated, Frodo nipped Faramir's palm, hard. Faramir laughed softly, but increased the pressure, stroking harder, twisting his hand at the tip, moving back down and squeezing. Frodo's hips bucked and he spilled into Faramir's hand, trembling but still not satisfied.

Frodo hitched his hips back against Faramir, feeling the hardness through his leggings. Faramir's mouth closed on Frodo's neck, sucking, as his wet hand slid back around then down Frodo's rear, opening him, two fingers slipping inside, twisting as Frodo thrust back. Frodo grasped the arm Faramir had around him in both hands, straining to push further back.

Faramir pulled his hand out, and Frodo could feel him trying to pull down his leggings. Since Frodo would not release his other arm, it took a frustrating while, but he finally achieved it. Faramir held Frodo by the hip, positioned himself, and pushed slowly in. Frodo bit Faramir's palm harder, trying not to cry out in his pleasure.

Frodo was braced and held by Faramir's arms as he moved in and out, slow and powerful, then, faster, pushing Frodo towards another climax. Frodo convulsed, his body clenching, releasing, tasting blood as Faramir came hot and deep within.

Frodo floated, his body loose and warm, listening to Faramir breathe. A few moments passed, and Faramir moved, pulling his leggings up, tugging Frodo's trousers up, fumbling with the buttons. Frodo smiled as he thought that Faramir'd had no trouble getting them unbuttoned. Then he remembered, and grasped Faramir's hand, running his fingers over the palm where he felt stickiness and several small wounds.

"Faramir," he said. "My apologies!"

A small breath of laughter behind him, and Faramir said, "The lore of Gondor has been increased by the knowledge that Halflings, truly called hobbits, can bite!"

Frodo remorsefully kissed the wounded hand.

Faramir hugged him. "Frodo, no, it's nothing more than a scratch, truly. And I didn't even feel you do it."

Frodo released his hand, reassured, and turned to kiss Faramir. Rolling on his back, Faramir pulled Frodo over onto him, and they settled themselves to sleep for whatever remained of the night.


Not far away, lying in the dark, Boromir stared dry eyed into the black depths. He was tormented not only by the soft sounds he'd heard but by the soft breathing of Aragorn who lay sleeping just beyond Boromir's reach.

* * * * * *

"Fly, you fools," Gandalf gasped, and was gone.

"No," Frodo cried, seeing the wizard he'd loved since he was a child, the one he trusted to guide him to Mordor and back, disappear into the abyss that the Bridge of Khazad-dum spanned. Frodo tried to run back. Surely Gandalf had not fallen.

Boromir pulled him up into his arms, easily controlling his struggles to free himself, and ran for the stairs. Legolas and Gimli were ahead of them. Looking back, trying to twist free of Boromir's grasp, Frodo saw Faramir pushing Merry and Pippin ahead of him up the stairs to the door, Aragorn pausing for one last look back as arrows fell around him.

Outside the East Door of Moria, as Gandalf had predicted, it was daylight. The sun shone from a blue sky onto barren rock, the clear light of day mocking the blackness of Frodo's grief. He was set down as Boromir turned to restrain Gimli from returning to Moria to fight more orcs.

Within him only emptiness, Frodo walked away from the others. He knew what he had to do.

He would go on alone. The great evil he carried would only bring death to all his friends, to the cousins he loved, and, worst of all, to Faramir. He would go on his own.

Surely that was what Gandalf meant when he told him to trust his own strength. Frodo felt tears spill down his face as he thought that, thanks to Gandalf and Aragorn, he had studied the maps well enough to find his own way to Mt. Doom.

"Frodo!"

Dimly, he heard Aragorn's voice, but he ignored it.

The roaring in his ears kept him from hearing the footsteps behind him until they were close, and two hands descended on his shoulders.

"Frodo!"

It was Faramir. Frodo twisted against his hands. "Let me go," he said.

"No."

"Please," Frodo begged.

Faramir tugged him around to face him, knelt, pulled Frodo close, wrapping an arm around him, wiping the tears from his face with his other hand.

Frodo pushed at his shoulders, frustrated by his inabilty to break free.

"I will go alone," he said.

Faramir smiled at him through his own tears. "No, Frodo, you will not." He picked him up and carried him back to the Fellowship.