Chapter Text
The rest of the day was surreal to Faramir. It was quickly ascertained that no one had life-threatening injuries, but there were many wounded who needed to be tended to before anything else could be done. Aragorn took charge of that.
Faramir and Imrahil saw to the removal of the dead wargs and the fortifying of security. Beregond went with a troop of Rangers to discover how the wargs had infiltrated the Citadel, and to make sure there were no other nasty surprises the wizard had left for them. Húrin took charge of Gríma while Gandalf saw to Saruman's body and Radagast's staff.
The wedding was only delayed. Éomer, Imrahil, and all in attendance had insisted that the ceremony continue, though it was against the king's liking. Aragorn had expressed concern for Faramir, Frodo, Merry, Éowyn and all those who had been struck by Saruman's magic. Faramir did not feel completely well himself, but his strength was renewed with the work to set things right. Éowyn would not be coddled, and Frodo would not have the wedding postponed for his sake. It was likewise for others. Chairs and benches were found for those who could hold up, and those who could not were escorted to the Houses of Healing.
In deference to the king's concern, however, the wedding was somewhat truncated. Naturally, the most sacred hymns were still sung and the vows exchanged, but the listing of lineage was shortened. Aragorn would have forgone the tradition entirely, but Faramir thought it necessary for all present to hear the naming of Aragorn's ancestry all the way to Elendil to again reinforce his claim to the throne. Going back to Tar-Minyatur, as originally planned, was deemed excessive. Faramir's own lineage was likewise shortened as everyone in Gondor knew his line well enough.
For Faramir's part, he would have been fine foregoing the formal elevation of his title to Prince Consort, but here Aragorn insisted. Fortunately, the traditional gift-giving from each house was done without the usual speeches, which Faramir was heartily glad of. He saw a few Lords and Ladies who were clearly displeased at this, and he made a mental note to allow them to say their rehearsed well-wishes at the first Commencement of Court next month.
Only one call and response was kept—the most important one in which all those in attendance accepted the marriage and promised their support of the new couple. The choir sang one ceremonial song, instead of the usual three, and then the bells were struck and the wedding officially over.
Faramir felt dead on his feet, but he refused to show it. There were still many ceremonial responsibilities he had to attend to during the banquet following the service. With the truncated ceremony, it was doubly important that the Lords and Officials had the chance to speak with either him or Aragorn. They had split up as soon as the traditional toasts were said so as many of their guests as possible could speak to at least one of them.
It was strange, Faramir reflected, how little he had seen his husband on their wedding day. Certainly they had had no opportunity for a private conversation. Faramir had caught Aragorn's gaze more than once during the interminably long day, and he knew the king was still not satisfied in relation to Faramir's health. Faramir couldn't even lie to himself—the day had been unduly wearying after Saruman's attack. Faramir hadn't had butterflies for the rest of the ceremony, needing all his energy just to keep upright and perform his role to satisfaction.
When the ceremony was over, Faramir was relieved but also a little disappointed. He confronted the fact that there had been a part of him that had wanted a romantic wedding, but that was a silly thing for him to want. A royal wedding with the first king in centuries could be nothing but deeply traditional. Neither Faramir nor Aragorn had much say in that.
One thing Faramir could enjoy, though, was seeing his friends enjoying themselves at the banquet. Aragorn wasn't the only one worried about the wizard's victims.
He found Frodo and the other Hobbits sitting by themselves on a balcony of the second floor of Merethrond, which overlooked the grand feasting below and opened up to the night air outside.
"Here you are. Have you tired of the revelry?" Faramir asked.
"No, indeed, sir," Merry said. He looked almost like himself again.
"But Gandalf said there was to be fireworks," Sam said quickly. "And he has the best fireworks in the whole world. You mark me, sir. Couldn't have finer for your wedding. We wanted to make sure we had the best seats for it."
He glanced several times at Frodo as he spoke, and Faramir did not need his natural insight to ascertain that what they had really done was remove themselves from the crowd for Frodo's health. He did look gray, but at his ease. No doubt he was aware of what the others were about, and if there had been dissention, they had long ago argued it out.
"I am looking forward to Gandalf's display," Faramir said. "We don't usually have fireworks in Gondor."
"Oh, you're in for a treat," Sam said brightly.
"I'm sure Gandalf has something particularly marvelous in store for you," Merry added. "Only proper for Aragorn's wedding."
"Congratulations, by the way," Frodo said.
"Yes," Pippin piped up. "The wedding was beautiful. Well, except for the wargs."
Faramir laughed. "I imagine that will be the standard qualifier for all future testimonials. The wedding was beautiful . . . until the battle of the wargs."
The Hobbits all chuckled. "It was beautiful," Pippin said. "Not as nice as a Hobbit wedding, of course, but very . . ."
"Steeped in tradition?" Frodo offered when Pippin seemed to struggle for a word.
Faramir smiled. "Long-winded, perhaps? Boring?"
"Well, it didn't give you and Strider much time to be yourselves," Sam said. "I was so pleased to hear he was getting married, and to such a fine lad as yourself. Strider deserved to find someone to love after all he's done. And I say the same for you, sir, if you'll pardon me. Would've been nice if the wedding let more of that show."
The other Hobbits nodded. Faramir tried to smile, but it felt stiff on his face. Sam's words were clearly meant well, but they hit his heart like a well-placed arrow. Saruman's attack had been a blessing in one regard, Faramir realized. He'd been too tired and distracted to think about his concerns for his marriage. Now, he was again assailed with the worry that his own feelings and desires for Aragorn would not match the political marriage the king had proposed. Faramir's hope for his future needed to be managed or he was at risk of breaking his own heart.
"A quiet wedding does sound ideal," Faramir said. "Certainly, it would match my own temperament. But I think this wedding was quite suitable for the present situation. Gondor has long since missed her king. The return of traditions long disused is something Gondor needs in these times."
"It can't all be about Gondor," Frodo said. "It's your wedding day."
Faramir felt sad at how untrue that was. He had no wish to argue, and wanted very much to change the subject. "Well, it was a very fitting wedding for one of Gondor. For my part, I expected nothing else for a Steward's wedding. Well, again, except for the wargs."
The Hobbits did not take to his joke as he'd hoped. They glanced at each other, looking uncertain.
But then Pippin brightened suddenly. "We could have a second wedding! You and Aragorn could exchange vows with just the Fellowship and your family. Nothing fancy at all. Just speak your heart, like a good Hobbit wedding."
The other Hobbits nodded, clearly liking the idea. Faramir's heart sank. "It is a fine notion, Master Peregrin, but I do not think it would be appropriate at present. There is much to do in Gondor, and I know you are all anxious to return home."
"We would stay for Strider's wedding," Sam said.
"We already have," Merry noted with a smile.
Frodo nodded. "This wedding was very grand but very impersonal. I know Saruman ruined some of the ceremony, and you didn't get to have the wedding you planned. I think I can confidently say that Aragorn would be very pleased with a small wedding just among friends where he needn't be concerned about the crowd or his crown. We would all be very happy to celebrate with you."
Faramir's heart sank further, because he was sure Frodo was right. Aragorn seemed like someone who would indeed enjoy a smaller, more intimate wedding with someone he was in love with.
That wasn't applicable here, and Faramir felt that keenly. He was equally dispirited that it seemed there was no way to politely disentangle himself from this notion without revealing the true nature of his new marriage, something the Hobbits were clearly ignorant of.
"King Elessar is fortunate to have such friends as you. What you seek for him is doubtless no less than he deserves. But it is not the truth of this moment, I'm afraid. Perhaps, if our joining were to take place many years from now, a wedding of hearts may suit. But here, today, we are only a promise of shared duty and the hope of future happiness. Nothing more than that."
The Hobbits shared frowns of concern and confusion. Faramir forced a smile. "Now, I must greet other guests, but I am told Mithrandir intends to set his fireworks at sunset, which will be soon. I would not-"
"Wait," Pippin interrupted. "What do you mean that your marriage is only duty? That can't be right. That isn't what Strider said."
Faramir had no idea what Aragorn would have told the Hobbits regarding their marriage. Had the Hobbits merely misunderstood? Would Aragorn have thought it better to let the Hobbits assume a love match? Faramir had no desire to wade into such a conversation.
He did not like the scrutiny he was getting from the four Hobbits. Frodo and Pippin, especially, seemed to see right through him, which was a thoroughly disconcerting sensation.
"I think there may have been a misunderstanding," Faramir began cautiously.
"I'll say!" Pippin jumped to his feet. "But don't you worry. I'll fix it. You just wait and see."
He strode off down towards the banquet below before Faramir could stop him. "Should I be worried?"
Merry snorted into his mug. "With Pip, you should always be worried."
"I'm sure it will be fine," Frodo said. "We won't keep you any longer. Congratulations again. We have enjoyed the celebrations and the wedding very much . . . excepting the wargs, of course."
He smiled, and Faramir did appreciate his levity, but he was still worried what he might have inadvertently put in Pippin's head and what Pippin would do about it. Faramir took his leave of the Hobbits as quickly as was polite and then tried to track down where Pippin had gone to.
Walking along the hall overlooking the feasting, Faramir spied Aragorn surrounded by a mixed group of Dúnedain and Gondor's nobility. To Faramir's chagrin, it was only a handful of seconds later that Pippin inserted himself into the group and earned Aragorn's attention.
Faramir quickened his step, trying to keep Aragorn and Pippin in his view, but it was impossible once he reached the ground floor. The crowd was too thick, and Faramir was stopped more than once by well-wishers, slowing his progress.
When he had finally crossed the room, he saw Pippin heading over to another staircase leading to the second floor. Pippin looked back just before Faramir reached Aragorn. He saw Faramir looking his way, winked, and touched his nose before dashing upstairs.
Faramir did not feel reassured by that in the least.
"Ah, Faramir," Aragorn said, forcing Faramir's attention away from Pippin's retreating back. "I was hoping to have a moment with you."
"I trust nothing is amiss?" Faramir said cautiously, curious about what Pippin had spoken of but not wishing to bring up the subject without prompting.
His unease was not helped when Aragorn said gravely, "We shall see." He gestured towards a door behind him. "Come with me."
"But the guests-"
"Please, Faramir."
Faramir sighed, but nodded. As he followed Aragorn out the door to an enclosed garden, he reflected that it was just as well if Pippin's interference forced the issue out in the open. Faramir wasn't sure he would be brave enough to volunteer the subject if it was actually some other topic that Aragorn wished to speak of, but he knew it wasn't a secret he could hide forever. It was unseemly not to tell Aragorn the truth of his feelings. He would just have to make sure to stress that he expected nothing from the king in return, and that he knew very well what he had agreed to when accepting Aragorn's proposal of marriage.
Faramir waited quietly as Aragorn shut the door behind them, and then turned to contemplate Faramir. He could make nothing of his husband's thoughts or even his mood.
After a lengthy moment, Aragorn shook his head. "I appear to have made a grave error."
Faramir's heartbeat instantly hammered in alarm, although he did his best not to get ahead of himself. "Error? What error, my lord?" The edge of alarm was in his voice, which frustrated him.
In response, Aragorn's unhappy expression melted to chagrin and concern. He reached out and gently touched Faramir's cheek in a soft caress. "Forgive me. I did not mean that the way it sounded."
Faramir took comfort in the touch, and did his best to take command of himself. "What did you mean, then?"
Aragorn looked rueful as he removed his hand. "I have done everything backwards, I'm afraid, and it is only now that I have realized this. There is much I have to tell you—much that I should have told you weeks ago."
He looked unhappy with himself, which distressed Faramir. "I am sure it is not so bad."
"I hope you are right." Aragorn seemed to realize his mood, and shook it off. "I must go back a ways, I think. Let us start at the very beginning so there is nothing left unsaid, and we can understand each other properly. The beginning, for me, was many months ago. I had heard much of you long before I ever met you. Boromir sang your praises the entire time I knew him."
Faramir ducked his head, the warm glow of love he had for his brother at war with the grief of his loss. "Boromir has ever been my champion."
Likely knowing his feelings, Aragorn offered an understanding smile. "Not your only one. Mithrandir did not praise you as blatantly as your brother, but it was clear that he thought very well of you and that he valued any and all of your contributions. Having two such disparate but commanding men think so well of you certainly piqued my interest. I was most anxious to meet you for myself."
"I was likewise anxious to meet you," Faramir said. "When Frodo let it be known that the king had returned—that Boromir was traveling with the king—it was all I could do not to invent a reason to return to Gondor right away."
Aragorn offered a faint smile, which faded into a sad expression. "No doubt, partially, in concern for your father's reaction."
"Perhaps," Faramir could not deny it. "But also with anticipation. Your existence was the first good news I had had since my brother's departure. I wished to be present to see you returned to Gondor—to see the White City once again under the command of her king."
"I am very fortunate that there are many people in Gondor of like mind. I admit I feared how I would be received."
"Only with joy, my lord," Faramir said firmly.
"I hope," Aragorn said softly, looking at Faramir with a gentle wistfulness that Faramir could not completely read, "that when I have rectified my mistake, you will again find that joy."
"I do not see that you have made any mistake," Faramir said.
"Then let me return to the tale of us." Aragorn sighed. "When I finally did return to Gondor, it was to news of your affliction and Denethor's madness."
Faramir had to look away, still unsure of what he felt about his father's demise. It was clear that Denethor had lost his mind, but he had done so at the threat of losing Faramir. In all their years together, Faramir had never seen any indication of an attachment so strong on his father's side.
It left too much to wonder at. Was it simply that Boromir was also gone, and Denethor had nothing left? Was it Sauron's influence through the palantír, twisting Denethor's vision like Húrin of old? Had he twisted Denethor's feelings as well? Was that something Sauron could do? Or had his father really love him so well, but been too proud to say anything? Faramir had yet to make sense of any of it.
A gentle touch to his jaw startled Faramir. He turned to find a regretful expression on Aragorn's face. "I am sorry."
"It is not your fault." Faramir did not wish to talk about Denethor, not now. "You were recalling our first meeting."
Aragorn delayed in responding, clearly studying Faramir. "To be blunt, you impressed me, Faramir."
"What? In a fever?" Faramir laughed.
Aragorn clearly did not share his levity. Gravely, he said, "I am not surprised that you have not seen it. There has been much on your mind, I am sure. But it is a true wonder that you are alive to speak with me today, Faramir. The Southron dart was not the only blow you received. The Black Breath sought you out long before the dart wounded you. Sauron's spies were everywhere, and he had long contended wills with your father through the palantír. I do not think it chance that you were afflicted as you were. Sauron would have marked you as a powerful ally to the Free Peoples of Middle-earth, just as Mithrandir did. Your injury was a blow to Gondor's morale. All of Gondor feared your loss. It destabilized your father, which destabilized the defenses here. Mithrandir was kept at bay because he had to see to your safety. All of this was by design. Sauron wanted you dead."
Aragorn took Faramir's hand between his own, his expression intense as he continued, "The only reason you are not dead is through the strength of your will. You lasted long enough to wait for me to come, and even my skill would not have saved you if you had not had the strength to heed my call. Do not think lightly of yourself for surviving all of that. I know it is difficult when there is such a burden placed upon you because of these circumstances, but you must believe that your continuing existence is miraculous. Yes, Faramir, you impressed me. Everything I have seen since that time has only firmed that opinion."
Faramir was quite speechless by Aragorn's declaration. He could see that Aragorn meant every word of it, his voice never leaving a low, intense register. And, now that Faramir thought of it, what Aragorn said made sense. Of course, the Ruling Stewards were objects of concern for Sauron. He had been planning the destruction of Gondor long before Aragorn's return was known to any outside the Dúnedain.
"I said I have done everything backwards," Aragorn said, squeezing Faramir's hand gently before letting it go. "I should have made all this clear from the start. But you were still struggling with Denethor's loss and the elevation to Steward and I . . ."
Aragorn sighed. "I suppose I did not wish to bring up unpleasant things. You have been through enough. All I want is to see you happy. I thought, perhaps, I could give you that."
"Of course you can," Faramir said immediately. He disliked the sad air about the king, especially when it was so patently unnecessary. Being married to Aragorn was a dream come true for Faramir, whatever his anxieties about wanting more than promised.
Aragorn did not look wholly reassured. "But I have hurt you. I did not mean to, but my thoughtlessness has left you in doubt."
"My lord, you have not—" Faramir began, but Aragorn's next words stopped him cold.
"I have always known you love me. I saw it when you opened your eyes to look upon me in the Houses of Healing. I felt it in the flutter of your fingers when I took my crown from your hands. I have seen it every day since then in the care and attention you have given to me. It has always been obvious to me."
Faramir could only stand there, stunned. His surprise rooted him to the spot but so did his embarrassment. Of course Aragorn had seen into his heart. How could Faramir have ever doubted it?
"So obvious, indeed, that I did not think it needed to be named. I erred in that. And in so much more." Aragorn shook away his sadness. "But I have gone too far ahead again. I saw your love for me in the Houses of Healing but there was no time to react. Even on that day, I had yet to heal Lady Éowyn or Merry or the many other wounded who needed my aid. Afterwards, I was immediately embroiled in the decision to assail the Black Gate. But I found, on the long road there, that my thoughts strayed often back to Gondor. I thought of Merry and Lady Éowyn, of course, but of you most of all. Enough that I could not ignore what my own heart was trying to tell me."
Faramir felt the pace of his pulse pick up, but he tried to keep himself from reading too much into the King's words. They had not made it to the present, after all, and he still did not understand what 'mistake' Aragorn was driving towards.
"I resolved to study the matter closely," Aragorn continued, "but could only do so once the battle at the Black Gate had been decided. When victory was at last ours, I was anxious to return to Gondor not only as the culmination of a lifetime of toil to earn my kingship, but most ardently with a desire to see you again. When I saw you emerge from Gondor to crown me, I knew then what my heart was saying to me, and there was no doubt that I wished to have you by my side forevermore."
Faramir's breath caught in his throat. He did not know what he would have said in response, but Aragorn's sudden frown stilled his tongue.
"I was concerned, however. I knew your feelings for me, but I did not know the whole of you yet. Two concerns restrained me from acting immediately. The first, that you might let duty keep you from following your heart. I have seen how diligent you are in your duties and how keen your sense of responsibility to Gondor is. I applaud both, but it worried me that if you thought another was better suited for me or for Gondor, you would not agree to wed me. I spent many nights countering imagined arguments you might have offered, which is why I focused so much on the suitability of a Steward as a match for a King when I made my proposal."
"That you desired it was reason enough to agree," Faramir said softly.
Aragorn looked grim. "Yes, and that was the second concern, far more worrying to me than the first. I think I took refuge in the first concern for it was easier to manage, and the possibility seemed to me less likely. But I do not know all of you, Faramir. I did not know if there wasn't some other lad or lass who held your heart before you looked upon me. Certainly, if there was someone you could not cleave to for Denethor's displeasure, I did not want to stand in the way. Or if you just wanted a simpler existence, not the complications and scrutiny of a royal life."
His expression turned sad. "I desire only your happiness. It grieved me to think you would say yes just to please me. As I said, I feared merely mentioning the idea would seem as a command to you. I cannot tell you how many sleepless nights I wrestled with that fear. Even these last few weeks, the fear has crossed my heart, though you have given no cause for alarm."
"But if you know my heart as you say you do," Faramir said, "then you must know that this fear is baseless."
Aragorn straightened, a light in his eyes like the silver lamp of Mindon Eldaliéva. Faramir felt seen in a way he never had before as Aragorn studied him. "Then you do love me?"
Aragorn already knew the answer. He had always known it. But Faramir understood now where Aragorn had erred. Knowing it and hearing it said were crucially different.
"Yes, my lord. You have my heart. You have since first I heard you calling me in the darkness. I love you with all my being. There is no other I would wish to cleave to. I want to be your husband."
Aragorn inhaled sharply, and it appeared he was momentarily overwhelmed with emotion. Gently, he reached out to take Faramir into his arms.
"Your sentiments match my own," Aragorn said softly. "I love you, Faramir. I have done so for months now. Every night I dream of you. Every day I seek you out in every face I see. I need only your presence at my side, and I am content. I have never known such joy as I did when you agreed to be mine. There is no one—man or woman—in any other land that I have traveled that has caught my attention as you have. You hold my heart, Faramir. I am yours."
Faramir swallowed, equally overcome. He let his head fall to Aragorn's shoulder, needing a moment.
"I did everything backwards," Aragorn said, stroking Faramir's hair. "I should have said this from the start."
Faramir forced himself to lift his head and meet Aragorn's eyes. "You have said it now. That is enough."
"Is it?" Aragorn's searching gaze traced over Faramir's features.
For once, Faramir felt on solid footing. "Yes. What you say—I feel the truth of it. Perhaps, I too knew what you did not say. In my heart, at least."
"Considering the uneasiness I left you in, it seems a cold comfort."
Faramir shook his head, boldly squeezing the king's arms around him. "Let us start anew. Master Peregrin and the other Hobbits divulged some disappointment in the officious nature of the royal wedding."
"Did they?" Aragorn laughed.
Smiling, Faramir continued, "It is their opinion that a small wedding would better suit you. I know it would for me. They suggested a second wedding."
"Like a second breakfast? And, let me guess, they have graciously offered their presence during such a wedding."
"Indeed they have. I admit, I am warming to the idea." Faramir hesitated, still feeling vulnerable in saying the words aloud but also encouraged by the affectionate look in Aragorn's eyes and the firmness of his embrace. "I love you, my king. Would you marry me . . . again?"
Aragorn looked at Faramir with such love in his gaze that Faramir wondered how he could ever have doubted his husband's feelings for him. "I love you too, and nothing would give me greater joy than to marry you. Again."
They shared a smile, feeling how absurd this was but also warmed by sharing the moment. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to lean in, and Faramir closed his eyes to better feel the touch of Aragorn's lips on his. This was the kiss he'd been dreaming of, and there was nothing now to hold him back from enjoying every second of it.
A sudden bright light shot up into the sky, drawing their attention and breaking the kiss. It was accompanied a moment later by a loud boom and the sky was suddenly colored in dazzling brightness.
"Ah, Mithrandir's fireworks." Aragorn moved his arms so that one wrapped around Faramir's waist, letting Faramir lean against him as they looked up at the fireworks sparkling in the sky.
"We should return to our guests." Neither man moved.
"Later," Aragorn said. "Right now, this is the only place I wish to be."
Faramir heartily agreed. Together, they watched as Mithrandir wove a spectacle the likes of which would be talked of for centuries to come.
In the end, it was a perfect wedding, wargs and all.