The Heart of the Maze

Title: From Rivendell to Rauros (WIP 17/20) (G)
By: Ithiliana
Overall Rating: 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)

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.

Summary Part 17: Apologies seem to be taking place. Frodo and Faramir go to Cerin Amroth.

Location Info: Because this fic contains both interspecies and sons_of_gondor elements inextricably intertwined, the only place I’m posting it at the moment is my own lj (later on, when I am able to develop a web page, it’ll be there as well). I will identify parts on my “memorable posts” lists, numerically, as I post, for anyone who comes in later on.

Author’s Notes: AU change is Faramir sneaking out of Minas Tirith to follow Boromir in secret, forcing him to take Faramir along on journey to Imladris. Then the fun begins: like one of those elaborate domino constructions. How does this change set up a whole new pattern for the plot dominoes to fall? More info below.



First domino: Sam is not along on quest, having married Rosie and started family back in the Shire. Faramir so fills Sam’s narrative slot (looking after Frodo) that this change seemed inevitable. Other dominoes are more plot related, so you’ll have to read it to see the pattern.

Canon Issues: This AU fic draws on both Tolkien’s book and Jackson’s film.

From the Book: age of characters and dates/chronology of events. Specifically: the Council of Elrond took place on October 25 but (in the book) the Fellowship does not leave Rivendell until December 25. Elrond sends scouts out to get more information, and everybody hangs around Rivendell for two months. Time for additional character interaction read hot sex. Additionally, the Fellowship enters Lothlorien January 15 and leaves February 16. A month. In Lothlorien. More time for more interaction. The dates in the text, months and years, are drawn from Tolkien’s Chronology in The Appendix published in Return of the King) .

From the Film: Well, what do you think—those gorgeous males. So I’m drawing from the film for character descriptions, certain settings, and some major scenes. This fic assumes a reader has some knowledge of book and film; and while I am not specifically quoting, I am not resisting memories of phrases and terminology which may be woven in (although in different characters’ mouths).

Blended: Some aspects of this story blend elements from Book and Film (especially with regard to characterization, background biographical info of main characters, relationships, etc.)

To sum up, I’m basically drawing from whichever canonical source (book or movie) best suits purpose of AU plot/characterization/relationships. Which means ultimately leading to more hot sex!




FROM RIVENDELL TO RAUROS

January 23, 3018

Frodo woke, wrapped in Faramir's arms, hearing Merry and Pippin's voices. He and Faramir had made their bed at the foot of one of the giant trees that supported the pavilion, lying between two great roots that rose some distance above the ground to shelter them from view.

Frodo could not distinguish words clearly, but his cousins sounded happy enough. Boromir's voice joined in, the deeper sound clearly standing out, and Frodo stretched, smiling. He hoped everybody could apologize, and things could get back to normal, or as normal as they could be without Gandalf.

The memory of that loss was still present, but his despair had not returned.

Faramir stirred behind him, releasing him. "Do you wish to join them?" he asked quietly.

"No. Definitely not," Frodo said. "In fact, I don't wish to talk to them at all this morning. They need to work things out on their own."

Faramir laughed, his breath warm against Frodo's neck. "I agree. Although one hopes this conversation will not lead to further problems requiring our help."

Frodo turned over to look at Faramir. "Do you think it's funny?" he asked, surprised. "I wasn't happy with what I learned from Merry and Pippin about their behavior, and your brother seemed so upset."

"The problem wasn't funny, I agree," Faramir said. "And yes, Boromir was upset. But I do find one part of the situation amusing. My big brother who has won so many victories in battle, including the retaking of Osgiliath, found himself brought to bay by two hobbits and had to come to me for help. I would never tell him what I'm telling you, but I do see some humour in his problem, now that's it's resolved."

"I think I see," Frodo said slowly.

"Perhaps. But perhaps not. Although you told me you lost your parents when you were young, I gather they loved you greatly, as does Bilbo. Have you ever been found wanting, ever been told by Bilbo or someone else you loved that you were not good enough?"

"Never," Frodo said, shocked at the thought.

Faramir shifted, rolling over to lie on his back, sliding one arm around Frodo, staring up into the high branches of the mallorn tree.

"The stories you've told me about growing up in the Shire, and what Boromir learned from Merry and Pippin, all imply a place where large families live together happily, and where children are loved and cared for by all in those families."

"I think that's true, at least of the hobbits I know," Frodo said. "Bilbo was unusual in living alone and not marrying. I never quite understood why he adopted me after my parents died. But most hobbits live with parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, several generations all more or less content under one roof. Yet I never felt any lack of love from Bilbo, and all our younger cousins spent time at Bag End."

Frodo remembered nights sitting around the fire as Bilbo told exciting stories about dragons and Elves to a group of young hobbits who hung on his every word, days spent working in the garden with Sam and his family, walks and outings with Merry, Pippin, Folco, and Fatty. They had explored the Shire, ranging far afield, knowing that they were loved at home.

"It's a wonderful idea, that children should grow up loved by many," Faramir said, his voice reflective. "I would that all did. Such is not always the case in the world of Men, I'm afraid."

Frodo hesitated to speak, but he was curious about the law that had so upset the others. "Given the law Boromir described to my cousins, I think I understand," he said.

"Our grandfather helped create that law to solve a terrible problem," Faramir said. "And I believe it's helped. But I was thinking about a problem that cannot be solved by any law. Love cannot be commanded." Faramir paused, then continued, his voice lower. "And for a parent to love one child and not another can cause problems even when the children love each other."

Frodo could not speak for a moment. He was sure Faramir was speaking of his own father, a distant figure of authority in his stories, but he had chosen to talk about him in general terms. And Frodo did not want to cause him any more pain. He couldn't understand how anyone could not love Faramir.

He raised a hand to touch Faramir's face. "I love you," he said.

Faramir's arm tightened around him. "I love you, Frodo. Thank you."

They lay for a while, not speaking, until the pavilion was quiet.

"I think it may be safe to break our fast," Faramir said. "Then what would you like to do?"

Frodo had planned to suggest another trip to the hot pools, but their conversation had made him reconsider.

"Could we go to Cerin Amroth today?" he asked.

Faramir looked at him, smiling. "If you wish to, certainly. I'd thought we'd spend the day resting, but what you told me about this place makes me wish to see it."

"But first, food," Frodo said, scrambling out from under the blankets.

* * * * * * *

After they had eaten, they left the pavilion by the northern path. Frodo thought the distance seemed shorter this time although perhaps the difference was within him. And with the fact that Faramir accompanied him. Frodo had no trouble retracing the path Aragorn had shown him.

When they arrived at the mound, the grass and trees, the light upon the mound, the flowers floating like mist on the grass, all seemed exactly as Frodo had last seen it.

Faramir paused, looking up, seeing Cerin Amroth for the first time. After a long while, he spoke. "I see what you could not say, Frodo," he said. "It's....perfect."

Hand in hand, they walked up the hill, not speaking.

As they entered the circle of white trees, Faramir paused, tugging Frodo to a halt. "The Sea," he said. "It's as if I'm at Dol Amroth, can you hear it?"

Frodo nodded. "I felt it before," he said.

They stood a moment, feeling the South Wind and hearing the soft thunder of distant seas.

They continued up the hill. At the top, Faramir stopped by the huge tree that crowned the hill and placed his hand upon the trunk. "Shall we climb to the flet?"

"Yes."

"You first, Frodo."

Frodo climbed the ladder that would take them to the high flet. Before he stepped onto the white platform that gleamed amongst the top branches, he paused a moment, placing his hand upon the trunk of the tree. He had never been so aware of the life glowing within a tree as he was now, touching the smooth bark, feeling its texture, smelling the scent of the leaves, sharing the delight of the living tree.

He stepped onto the flet and moved forward to give Faramir room. Faramir came to his side, and they looked out from their lofty height. To the South, Frodo saw Caras Galadhon, its huge trees rising over the forest of Lothlorien. Light and power flowed from the Elven City.

"Look, Frodo, across the River."

Frodo turned to the East, seeing where the trees of Lorien ran down to the silver thread of the River. The River seemed to mark a boundary where light failed. The lands beyond looked empty and dark. Frodo shivered as he saw a formless shadow brooding beyond. He thought he saw something in it searching.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Mirkwood. The southern realm of the forest where Dol Guldur lies. Remember, Lorien lies between the Misty Mountains and the Great River. Beyond the River, stretching from the Grey Mountains far into the South, is Mirkwood."

Frodo stepped back, chilled. Now that Faramir reminded him, he could remember the vastness of Mirkwood on the maps he had studied in Rivendell. In the North, Legolas's father ruled, but in the South was the realm Sauron had ruled as the Necromancer.

"I remember."

"Shall we sit a while?"

Frodo nodded, following Faramir back to join him where he sat, back against the tree. The warmth of the tree, the shelter of its branches reassured Frodo somewhat, but he also snuggled under Faramir's arm.

Faramir hugged Frodo, pulled him close.

"Gandalf and the White Council drove Sauron out of Mirkwood, the year Bilbo was on the quest with the Dwarves," Frodo said. "How it is that the place is still so evil? I can feel it from here."

"I do not know for certain, Frodo, but from what Gandalf said at the Council, the Enemy only feigned to retreat. As we in Gondor knew, his servants ruled over Minas Morgul, preparing for his return. I suspect that some servants still hold the fortress and are obedient to his will."

Faramir paused, then went on slowly. "I could wish that the North and South had been more aware of each other in years past, more able to communicate what each knew. We might have been able to move more quickly against this threat."

Frodo could think of nothing to say. He agreed with Faramir, but it was too late for such might have beens. They sat in silence a while.

Frodo leaned against Faramir, closing his eyes, feeling the soft wind in his face, at peace.

The quiet of Cerin Amroth wrapped him, not an absence of sound, but a presence in itself, a sense that all life in this place was listening to some unimaginably far off music.

Frodo floated, feeling as he sometimes did in the moment between sleeping and waking life, not sure if he were awake or asleep. He thought or imagined he opened his eyes to see a grey curtain which shone silver as if the Sun rose behind it, turned to light, and faded away.

Huge mountains rose in front of him, higher even than the mountains that had turned the Company back, their side smooth as glass, crowned with white.

Floating, he rose over the mountains to see a great light beyond, a light that burned and healed, and as he passed through the light he saw houses, towers, and gardens, a city surrounded by an undying green land.

Frodo yearned for more, hearing a sweet singing in the distance. He realized it was this singing that all of Cerin Amroth seemed to hear.

If he could get closer, perhaps he could hear more, perhaps…..

Frodo felt a pain, a tugging, pulling him down. He strained, trying to move forward, but was pulled swiftly back into darkness, cold shadows closing over him.

He struggled to breathe.

"Frodo!"

Frodo strained to open his eyes, feeling hands upon him. His head was tilted back, held, warm breath blown into him.

Coughing, Frodo convulsed, suddenly able to breathe, to think, to see.

Faramir knelt over him, holding him, as he lay on his back on the flet. Above him, he could see green leaves in the sunlight.

"Faramir!" Frodo raised his hand to touch Faramir's face, tried to sit up. "What happened?"

Faramir held Frodo down. "Don't move. I don't know. We were just sitting here, and it was as if you were struck down."

Faramir ran his hands over Frodo, head, chest, limbs. "You went limp, cold, and I could not feel your heart beat, or your breath. I thought you dead." Faramir's voice was tight, and Frodo could feel tension in his hands and arms.

Frodo stretched under Faramir's hands. He felt as if he had just eaten the most stupendous meal ever created or made love with Faramir for hours, warm, relaxed, glowing. Happy as he had not been for months. Maybe ever.

"I feel wonderful," Frodo said. "I dreamed of a beautiful land, a city, I cannot describe it, but somehow it felt like this place, drowned in light."

Faramir sat back on his heels, frowning down at Frodo. "We should return to Caras Galadhon," he said. "I want to tell Aragorn what happened. Perhaps he will know what to do for you."

Frodo sat up. "I don't think I need anything," he said. "I've not felt this good for months. Whatever happened, I believe it was healing. Aragorn told me this was a place of healing."

"Perhaps. But I have seen death before, Frodo, and in those moments, I thought you dead. I must talk to Aragorn."

Frodo sighed and agreed. He rose to his feet and followed Faramir down the ladder, aware of the tree without needing to touch it this time. As his feet touched the undying grass of the mound, he felt as if he were connected to a glowing web of light that extended throughout Lothlorien.

Frodo caught Faramir's hand as he turned to leave the mound. "Wait a moment," Frodo said, tugging his hand. Faramir paused, looked down.

"What, Frodo?"

Frodo tugged harder. "Kneel down," he said.

Faramir paused, then did so.

Frodo released his hand, stepped forward, placing a hand on either side of Faramir's face. Looking into his blue eyes, Frodo said, "I love you," then leaned forward to kiss him.

As Frodo's lips touched Faramir's, he felt as if the light surrounding them closed to hold them here and knew that even though he and Faramir left this place and never returned that some part of them would remain here, that their love would be forever green.

Frodo opened his eyes, pulled back, released Faramir. Faramir seemed dazed, his eyes looking beyond Frodo. After a moment he shook his head, touched Frodo's face.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I'm not sure," Frodo said. "But only good could happen here."

"I'm beginning to think you're right," Faramir said. "But we cannot stay here. Come."

He rose and took Frodo's hand again. They walked down the hill, leaving the light of Cerin Amroth to return to the pavilion, the Company, and their quest.