Today, life is good

[itisforfeit.livejournal.com]

Who: Boromir and Faramir

What: 'Tis a Tale of a Most Epic Reunion of Bros

Where: Just outside the Inn

When: Soon after Faramir's arrival

Warnings: May contain ridiculous amounts of sentimentality INDUCE PUKING OF RAINBOWS ALL OVER THE PLACE


Once he stepped outside Faramir closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling softly. The cool breeze on his face revived his spirits but his hands were still cold, his chest aching with the aftermath of the onrush. All of his memories before the world had turned dark were sketchy at best and it brought a pain of doubt and uncertainty with it. Had he then fallen in battle, thus being reunited with his brother in death?

He opened his eyes again, taking in the view around him, his hand running idly over the Inn's wall. What a strange place indeed, with doors that would not open and devices that would allow you to speak over such vast distances.

He briefly considered pulling the CiD out and examine it again but other things were far more important now. Watching expectantly he strained his ears for the familiar sound of hooves.

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[ofminastirith.livejournal.com]

For a moment, Boromir looks down to the table and his own food. It has been many days, in more ways than one. "Where would you like me to begin? I feel the tale is longer on my part. There's this city and... how I left things in our world."

'Left.' As if it were a choice. In all honesty, he has gone through something of a grieving process himself these six months. Not for him so much as the those he left behind. The people he was never able to say goodbye to or make ammends with.

[itisforfeit.livejournal.com]

Where to begin indeed? There are so many questions, Faramir is almost mute with choice.

You speak of how you left. How did you leave? What magic brought you here? Are the tales true? What final battle did you find yourself in? How have you fared in this strange place?

But he wishes not to be inquisitive. He wants to talk to his brother, without remorse, without hesitation, open and lovingly like they used to.

"I met your halflings."

[ofminastirith.livejournal.com]

"My--?" Boromir looks up with sudden dread. His thoughts are suddenly with Merry and Pippin in those last moments of conciousness, their faces tear-stained and fearful.

And Frodo, fearful for another reason altogether.

Does Faramir know what he did? He must.

"Which of the four?" A moment of sadness clouds his face as he thinks on friends he no longer feels worthy of.

[itisforfeit.livejournal.com]

Faramir's heart aches at the sight of his brother's pain and he almost reaches out to touch his shoulder. But now is not the right time.

He watches him for a moment, thinking of the best order in which to go on about things.

"Three of them, albeit not at the same time or in the same places. And I know the fourth, the one called Merry resides in Rohan, in the halls of Théoden."

Which he knows because Pippin would not stop telling him stories. The thought of the young hobbit brings a small smile to his face. Faramir is clearly quite fond of him - Pippin was the first to make him laugh in a very long time.

"Pippin dwells within our city walls." Raising his head to meet Boromir's gaze he smiles warmly at him. "He joined the tower guards and entered Gondor's service in your honor."

[ofminastirith.livejournal.com]

The thought threatens to overwhelm Boromir and for a moment he presses a curled fist against his mouth. "Oh, Pippin. There is no need of that. It was I who did you and the Fellowship a dishonour."

His out loud musing on distant friends doesn't sound completely separate from his addressing Faramir in the present; it's not meant to. And all the while, the memories of the Ring's hold sends a sickening jolt to his stomach.

"I have done a shameful thing, Faramir. A shameful thing. And it still haunts me in death. May it forever plague me, that I never forget my folly, my pride --my own vainglory!"

Those last words are spoken with a certain deal of vehemence.

[itisforfeit.livejournal.com]

It is a sight that breaks Faramir's heart and this time he does reach out to place his hand on his brother's arm. "No. May you find peace."

His fingers curl around Boromir's wrist and he pulls his hand back, away from his mouth so they can face each other. "For I have seen this wretched thing, this cursed creation and its evil deeds. May you find forgiveness in the hearts of Men and Elves and all the Free people of Middle-earth." He pushes down until both their hands come to rest on Boromir's chest, atop of each other. "May you find it in your own," he tells him, his voice quiet but firm.

"Will you not see him who sits with you, eats with you, finds such joy and peace in your company? He is not shamed to call you brother still; he never was. There is not one who speaks of Boromir in anger or contempt and I will not have it any other way."

[ofminastirith.livejournal.com]

"Then it is more than I deserve." Despite Faramir's best intentions, it will take longer than that for Boromir to forgive himself. A lifetime built up as Gondor's saviour is not easily forgotten, especially when he feels he failed their people when they needed him most.

After a few moments, he starts to speak again. "I think I would have been driven to despair these past months had it not been for another's gift of foresight. There is a lady here who brought me news that Middle-Earth would be saved and that my friends would survive. I find peace enough in that."

He leaves out what he was told about their own family, for now. Heavy hearts are best not overladen.

[itisforfeit.livejournal.com]

Faramir drops his gaze for a moment but his eyes soften with a small smile at that. "Those are good news. I shall take them gladly from you and allow them to easy my own, heavy heart."

[ofminastirith.livejournal.com]

"Why should your own heart be heavy? I know we are a long way from home but it is not the last you shall see of Middle Earth." Boromir has not quite added two and two together yet. Then again, he's seen so many other people come here without it being some sort of afterlife and he's been told something to the contrary (not that those with foresight are infallible).

[itisforfeit.livejournal.com]

"What makes you say that?" Faramir looks up, a trace of confusion on his face at the confidence in his brother's voice. "How would I return from where no mortal man has come back?"

[ofminastirith.livejournal.com]

"You died." It's spoken flatly. Various scenarios run through his mind but there are two he keeps returning to: foresight is fallible or this Faramir is not the brother he'd been told would live, but another who was fated to die.

Either way, he decides to keep quiet while he ponders his options. It wouldn't do to panic his brother (always his brother, no matter what) even more on the day of his arrival. After all, it had taken Boromir some time to understand the concept of multiple worlds and timelines.

"I had --I thought." He pauses, trying to still himself. "I hoped you had come here alive, as other do. Oh, Faramir."

[itisforfeit.livejournal.com]

"People come to this place alive?" He looks surprised. That is a new concept for him and a possibility that has not crossed his mind at all.

"I-- do not know. The moments before I woke up in this strange room, they are all a blur and then-- darkness." A shadow crosses his face. He might not remember the nature of his injuries but his spirit very well recalls the blackness of its impact. "We were to reclaim Osgiliath. It was heavily guarded. We encountered Nazgûl."

Another shadow, of a different kind. Yes, he lost the city again and Faramir feels accordingly about it.

[ofminastirith.livejournal.com]

"They do, although I can understand why you would come to that conclusion that this was some sort of afterlife. It crossed my mind when I arrived here. Then I was afraid I had become some sort of wraith-like creature. But no; people are brought here during and after their death."

And speaking of wraiths. "You went to reclaim Osgiliath when it was guarded by Nazgûl." It's not a question; it's a statement of disbelief. Of course, he has no idea how badly things became in Gondor during his absence and after his death.

[itisforfeit.livejournal.com]

"You do not look wraith-like to me." It is said with a small smile because it is fairly obvious that it will be the last one in a while. Because apparently they are now coming to the part he really dreads talking about.

"Such were my orders."

It is not said in bitterness but matter-of-fact, with that soft hint of sadness underneath. A bit wistful, maybe.

[ofminastirith.livejournal.com]

Such were my orders. Oh, Boromir knows what that means. His features set into their familiar stern countenance and, if Faramir has an undercurrent of melancholy to his words, his brother has to bite back his fury.

"Oh, for--" No, no, he will not say what's on his mind. Well, maybe a little. And perhaps his fist thumps down on the table, making his plate jump slightly. "What was he thinking? Is it not enough to lose one son that he must condemn the other in his folly?"

[itisforfeit.livejournal.com]

"Father was... heartbroken. His grief over your loss has very much consumed him."

He watches Boromir, a pained expression on his face. If this upsets his brother so deeply, how can Faramir ever bring himself to tell the whole tale?

"Please, I beseech you, do not speak of him in anger. He misses you with a sad and heavy heart."