Cursing to himself, Faramir angrily refused to be ill. Tomorrow he and Frodo planned to have their Yule celebration. The fragrant log awaited them in the big sitting room fireplace; special treats would be served, and then the servants were to withdraw, leaving them to themselves on the thick fur rug. The thought of this day had kept Faramir going through all those rough days in the wilderness – Frodo’s sweet face between his hands, Frodo’s naked body lit by flickering firelight, Frodo’s soft kisses all over him.
Faramir grabbed the pitcher and vomited into it.
********
Faramir woke to the feeling of a wet cloth cooling the searing pain in his head. He coughed weakly and tried to sit up, only to be gently pushed back onto his pillow.
“There, now, Faramir, just lie back and let us take care of everything,” said a familiar voice. Squinting up, he saw Ioreth’s kindly face suspended over him like a genial moon. He felt comforted at the sight and relaxed. Ioreth would take care of him.
Turning his head carefully, he saw Frodo perched next to him, holding his hand and smiling encouragingly.
Must not be dying if Frodo isn’t worried Faramir mused vaguely, and drifted back to sleep.
********
When next he woke Faramir managed to sit up with some aid from Ioreth and Frodo.
“What’s wrong with me?” he croaked.
“Well, my dear,” said Ioreth briskly, “it seems you’ve picked up a bad cold in your chest. But we’ve been dosing you all day, and the congestion has broken. I was worried about pneumonia, but the fever broke and your chest is clearing. So now all that’s left is recuperation.”
“Frodo,” whispered Faramir, “I’m so sorry to have ruined our Yule plans.”
“Silly Man,” said Frodo, poking him gently in his side. “You’ve ruined nothing. We can delay our Yule fire for another time. And we can cuddle here on the bed well enough.”
“I don’t want you to catch this, Frodo,” said Faramir. “Perhaps you should stay away from me.”
“Too late for that,” Frodo replied. “I’ve been next to you for hours now, so if it’s to come I’ve already gotten it.” He leaned over and breathed into Faramir’s ear, “If you’ll remember, we had quite an intimate homecoming.”
Despite himself, Faramir felt heat tighten his groin. Embarrassed, he glanced over to where Ioreth stood wringing out a cool cloth to make sure she’d seen nothing, and was startled to feel Frodo’s hand slide under the blanked and stroke him.
“As soon as you’re better, we’ll proceed with our plans,” smirked Frodo, removing his hand as Ioreth walked toward them to put the cloth on Faramir’s brow.
********
Faramir shoved aside the bowl of gruel. “Can’t I have some real food?” he demanded. “I want to get up now.”
Ioreth smiled. “I’d say you are on the mend, Lord Steward. Appetite and crankiness – two signs of returning health.”
“I don’t know why you say I’m cranky,” snapped Faramir, then stopped at the amusement in her eyes. “Where’s Frodo?”
“Here I am, love.” Frodo stepped through the doorway bearing a wrapped scroll. “Since you seem to be feeling more yourself, I thought I would give you your Yule gift now.”
