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Even from afar, Faramir could make out the colorful banners of Aragorn's retinue as he watched the king's party enter the city. The sound of horns carried up to Faramir, announcing the king's path through the streets.
Faramir could picture it in his mind, every twist and turn as Aragorn slowly made his way up to the Citadel. The king had been gone for six months on his first extended state visit. Aragorn was still novel enough that Gondor's citizens made a holiday of his comings and goings.
There would be throngs of people there to greet him. The streets would be overflowing with flowers and banners. Everyone would be dressed in their best clothes. When word of Aragorn's return had reached him, Faramir had ordered the city scrubbed until she sparkled. To the last detail, he had made sure nothing was wanting.
Nothing but himself, that was.
Closing his eyes, Faramir tried to will himself calm. Aragorn still had to reach the Citadel, and then there were formalities to attend to before Beregond could bring the king to Faramir as requested. Faramir had to wait for all of that, but it was still all too soon before he'd finally know if he'd made the right choice.
It was better to turn his mind to something else to ease the passing time, but all he could think of was that he should be there to greet his king when he reached the White Tower of Ecthelion. What would Aragorn think when he saw his husband missing?
Faramir turned away to slowly pace alongside the wall. Now the sound of music reached his ears. Aragorn was getting closer, and Faramir's anxiety increased.
He thought back to his peculiar behavior of late. He knew that Húrin had sent a letter to the king regarding the situation because Aragorn had written Faramir to inquire about it. Faramir had worried over his response for a week before replying in a way that answered nothing. He knew Aragorn would note it.
Now that the truth was finally to be laid bare, would it be worth it?
Faramir tried to console himself with memories of their married life so far. Though their union was not yet two years old, Faramir had nothing but joy in it. Aragorn had been attentive and loving in every respect. Surely, he would forgive Faramir any offense or insult once he knew the truth. Wouldn't he?
The colorful pageantry had made its way to the Citadel and away from Faramir's gaze now. He could make nothing else out, and there was only the waiting now.
How long would it take for Húrin to greet Aragorn properly and perform the returning rites? Would Aragorn want to take his ease before tracking Faramir down?
But, no, Faramir had already sent Beregond to show his husband where he was. Faramir knew that at least in this respect he could not refuse his duty. He could not hide away forever.
The waiting seemed interminable, and all of Faramir's fears repeated themselves in loops in his head. He'd had too much time to consider the matter, and everything swam through his brain all at once.
Turning back to look out at the city, Faramir placed his hands flat on the cool stone, and again sought for calm. He could not afford to lose his composure. He had to make Aragorn understand. It was vital that he keep command of himself until he knew for certain where he stood.
Soon, he would know.
"My lord?" Beregond sounded hesitant. "King Elessar is here."
Faramir fought to breathe, his hands digging into the stone of the wall. He knew he should turn, should say something, but he stood frozen staring sightless out at the countryside.
Distantly, he heard Beregond depart. There was silence, but Faramir could not turn to look.
"Faramir?"
The king's tone was quiet, and Faramir's breath came back in a hitch. Faramir opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
He heard Aragorn come closer. "Love, what has happened? Why did you not meet me at my arrival?"
There was a part of Faramir who could hear the concern in his husband's voice, but his guilty conscience heard only accusation. Whatever words Faramir had practiced in his head deserted him.
Aragorn stood beside him now. A gentle hand reached out to cover his own where it pressed into the stone, and Faramir knew his husband could feel how he trembled.
"Dearest?"
Taking a deep breath, Faramir forced himself to finally meet his king's eyes. He did not move more than his head, keeping his belly pressed to the wall.
Aragorn met his gaze, his own expression showing only concern. A band of steel eased around Faramir's heart when he saw that. He had always known Aragorn would not react with anger or rejection. It was only Faramir's fears and too many months to dwell on them that could deem otherwise.
But Faramir knew that Aragorn's acceptance was not joy, and too much was still unknown.
"I am sorry, my lord," Faramir said quietly. "I must beg forgiveness for my lapse in duty."
"I care not for that." Aragorn gently squeezed Faramir's hand. "I am only concerned. Why are you here? Was Húrin's missive accurate? Have you been here since I left for Rohan? What has happened?"
Aragorn's worried expression did not change, but Faramir needed to fortify himself against his many questions. Faramir broke eye contact to look out at the quiet countryside, thinking this would be easier in Ithilien. He tried to picture the shadows under the trees, the sun winking on the lake, the flower-scented breeze, and constant cascade of the waterfall.
It was only partially successful in calming his nerves.
Forcing himself to meet Aragorn's eyes again, Faramir said, "I have been secluded here for several months, yes. I thought it best."
"Why?" Aragorn moved closer still when Faramir delayed in answering. He took Faramir's captured hand and pulled it to himself. Faramir should have turned with the gesture, leaving himself open.
But he couldn't do that, not yet. Aragorn's worried look only increased, and Faramir hated that he was the cause of it. He just needed to speak, to get it out there. Why was this so hard?
"Faramir." There was the slightest command in Aragorn's tone now. "Why are you here?"
Swallowing, knowing that he could postpone the inevitable no longer, Faramir turned his hand in Aragorn's grip so that he was now holding it. "I did not think it right that all of Gondor should know when you did not, and I knew not how to write it in a missive. That did not seem right either."
Faramir spoke rapidly, rushing out the excuses he had hoarded to himself in the past months as he waited for his king's return. Aragorn's expression only grew more concerned and puzzled.
As he spoke, though, Faramir pulled Aragorn's hand down. He hesitated only a moment before turning to face his husband fully and pressing Aragorn's hand to his distended belly.
It appeared that Aragorn did not immediately understand what Faramir was trying to say, his focus on Faramir's face and his words, but the moment he finally looked at where his hand was, the comprehension was a shock that lit his expression.
Faramir waited uneasily to know what followed the shock. The seconds stretched unbearably long, and it seemed Aragorn was momentarily at a loss for words.
The moment passed in an instant as Aragorn suddenly grinned brightly. "Pregnant? You're pregnant?" He laughed, joyful. "That is wonderful!"
"Is it?"
Faramir's wary tone sobered Aragorn instantly. His smile slipped, and Faramir hated to see that, but he couldn't trust this joy. Not yet.
"Why would it not-" Aragorn began, and Faramir shook his head, knowing where this would go.
"In Gondor," he began, but that was apparently enough as Aragorn's eyes widened in apparent sudden comprehension.
He let out a frustrated groan that did nothing for Faramir's peace of mind, and then pulled Faramir into a tight embrace.
"Now, it is my turn to beg your forgiveness," Aragorn said, pressing a kiss into Faramir's hair before leaning back just enough to look Faramir in the eye. "I am sorry. I had completely forgotten. More, I did not say what I knew, not to you. It is unpardonable, and I cannot castigate myself enough for any grief I have caused you. Whatever worry has left me sleepless these past weeks is little payment for the damage I see I have caused."
Faramir looked at him confusion. "Damage? What damage? My lord, I do not understand."
Aragorn nodded sadly. "Indeed. That is my mistake. I should have remembered how it was here. In the north, the Dúnedain have long retained the ability for men to give birth, as it was in Númenor. I know that is not the case here-"
"Do you?" Faramir interrupted sharply. "This will not be well received among the populace. Common sentiment has long since turned against the notion, if any believe it to be more than a fairy tale."
Aragorn shook his head. "That sentiment is Denethor's doing, and a product of jealousy and regret. But, even the simplest of my subjects knows the truth. Elendil sired both his sons from his own body, as was common on Númenor. As was common in Gondor, until King Eärnur was lost. If we must think of Gondor's politics now, then you must see that your pregnancy will be greeted with delight. The return of the king returns the old ways."
"And if I am the only one who exhibits this gift?" Faramir's tone remained wary as he considered the reaction to that.
"It remains to be seen if you will be." Aragorn held up a hand to forestall Faramir's arguments. "I foresee that it will not be so, but it would not take much to ensure that were the case. I will call for some of my kindred to relocate here, and there will be births among them. I am sure, also, that you and the Council can propagate a narrative that trades on your own heritage. It is said already that the blood of Númenor runs true in you. This need only be a sign of that. Or, a sign of my own right to rule. The pregnancy need only be a detriment if we allow it to be so, and I have no intention of that."
Aragorn's words comforted the logical part of Faramir's mind to a degree, and he recognized his worry as a product of sleepless nights with no one to truly confide in. That did not mean he was at ease yet.
Shaking his head, Aragorn said, "Now, enough of politics. I am returned to find my husband greatly pregnant, and I would speak of that. Are you alright? Has no one attended you this entire time?"
Flustered by Aragorn's concern, Faramir's response was hesitant. "I sought the Warden of the Healing Halls to ensure that I was healthy, and Beregond has been my surrogate in all matters of state."
This did not seem to appease the king, whose frown deepened. "Faramir." His tone was unhappy. "You should have sent for me immediately upon your discovery of the pregnancy."
Faramir shook his head. "The treaty with Rohan is very important, and I knew how much you longed to see King Éomer again. I could not call you away from that, not for a mere pregnancy. I have kept, none the worse for the wait."
"No, Faramir." The king's tone became dark, and his expression was intent. "I am telling you now that you should have sent for me immediately. If ever this happens again, I will accept no other course of action. There is nothing mere about your pregnancy. Much though I love Éomer, he is not my husband. Nothing would give me greater joy than to share the trials of your pregnancy as much as I can, and I have missed out on much of this pregnancy."
Faramir could see how this grieved him, and he was instantly contrite. He had not thought of the matter in such terms. While he had weathered morning sickness, swollen ankles, odd cravings, and all the other delights of pregnancy, it had never occurred to him that Aragorn would feel slighted not to be there to experience them with him.
But of course he would. Faramir realized just how much it would mean to his husband. Aragorn loved him dearly, and the birth of their first child would be a momentous occasion for him.
Faramir felt the weight of this failure pressing upon him, and he was aghast.
Watching him, Aragorn's expression softened and he let his hand rest on Faramir's distended belly once more, gently caressing him. "I am here now, though. Let us waste no more time on what we should have done. I have longed to see you from the moment I road away, and I would see the shadow of worry lifted from your eyes."
Faramir hesitated a moment before tentatively nodding. There was much that still needed to be said. He'd had months to consider the matter in far more detail than it warranted, and he knew that the politics of this pregnancy were far from simple.
But Aragorn was here, pressing his hand over the new life growing inside Faramir, his expression one of wonder. He was clearly delighted by the pregnancy, and would not let Faramir's worries shadow his joy.
Faramir realized he didn't want that either. As long as he had Aragorn's good will, then it didn't matter if they had to fight tooth and nail to make Gondor accept it. Aragorn's opinion was the one that really mattered.
"I would like that, my lord."
Aragorn's smile was soft, his eyes warm with love, and Faramir felt himself melting under his regard.
Leaning forward, Aragorn pressed a gentle kiss to Faramir's lips. It was not enough, and Faramir threw his arms around his husband's wide shoulders to deepen the kiss. It felt like a lifetime since last he'd kissed his husband, and he had feared he might never get to do so again. Foolishly, as it turned out, but no less a weight upon his heart.
"It is good to be home," Aragorn said when they parted. Faramir nodded against his husband's chest where he was curled in Aragorn's embrace.
"I have missed you." Faramir's tone was quiet.
In response, Aragorn tightened his hold of Faramir. He said nothing more for a long time, and Faramir was glad of it. He needed this quiet support. They would figure out things later.
Right now, he just wanted to be where he was: safe and loved in his husband's strong arms.