Brother
"Down!"
Boromir hastened to comply with his brother's urgent command, unceremoniously flinging himself toward the loamy ground even as an arrow thudded into the tree behind him and a second embedded itself firmly in his rump. He bit down on a cry and shook his head; how Faramir had seen the shaft amidst the chaos and roiling mists was a mystery, but then the younger man had the eyes of a fox and the silent feet to match, melting into position at his side a moment later.
Faramir's grey eyes were wide in the gloom as they scanned over his body, face growing troubled as his gaze came to rest on the offending shaft. "Can you walk?"
Boromir raised a brow in challenge but as he shifted the arrow tip moved, grinding against bone, and he gasped before he could control himself. "Ah!"
Faramir's eyes flickered behind them, straining beyond the tree-line. Boromir could sense his urgency, was not surprised that his bow was still in hand and that he held an arrow at the ready. The sounds of battle drew ever closer through the mists.
Boromir marshalled his strength and stood, biting down on his lip, as Faramir loosed an arrow and glanced back at him. Boromir nodded but took only a step before falling, the strength in his leg stolen by the line of fire that seared up from the point of his wound. He would never make it, already he could feel himself slipping…
"Go," he gasped.
Faramir shook his head and drew his bow once again. "I will not leave you, brother."
"You must," Boromir said, feeling desperation seep into him as he became aware of the tramp of heavy feet to each side of them, the stench of blood and decay. The orcs were closing ranks. Fleetingly he wondered what had become of the others, but then Faramir turned to him, eyes blazing with sorrow and anger and determination and Boromir clenched his jaw against the rush of love and pride that swelled in his heart.
"That is an order, Captain!"
Faramir swore, with sudden and surprising vehemence, as he let loose a few more arrows into the gloom, shaking his damp hair from his eyes before turning to his brother.
"I will not leave you behind. Not you," he said, chest heaving. And with that, he stooped and drew Boromir over his shoulder, staggered to his feet, and lurched into the trees.
§
After a time night fell and still Faramir carried Boromir, heedless of the weight upon his shoulders, the trembling ache of his overtaxed limbs, the sweat pouring into his eyes. Sure-footed and swift despite his burden, the ranger continued on till he was sure he had lost the trailing orcs who sought them.
Boromir hissed as Faramir knelt and eased him onto the ground, used the pain to chase away the darkness that had been pulling at him since he had been scooped up like a helpless babe.
"You disobeyed a direct order," he said, voice tightly controlled against his pain and anger.
Faramir straightened in automatic response to the tone, his gaze flinty, jaw taut.
"Aye, sir."
Boromir growled.
"Is that all you have to say for your conduct?"
An angry flush bloomed over Faramir's pale cheeks and Boromir did not miss the way he clenched his fists even as he jerked a nod.
"Aye, sir."
Boromir bit back another retort as he took in his brother; Faramir held himself erect despite his weariness, and his eyes sparkled with feeling, matching the defiant thrust of his jaw.
"You bastard," Boromir shook his head, smiling fondly.
"The feeling is entirely mutual," Faramir assured him, lips lifting fleetingly in answer.
Boromir snorted and accepted the flask of brandy that Faramir thrust beneath his chin then, gulping a few mouthfuls as Faramir ripped the end of his cloak into strips.
"I doubt it not," Boromir laughed. "Well, what say you, brother mine? Shall I live?"
Faramir shot him a withering look and began probing the wound with gentle fingers.
"Too soon?" Boromir asked, pleased at the twitch of Faramir's lips.
The younger man's expression quickly settled back into one of frowning concentration as he fished a knife from his boot and a pouch of herbs from his belt. He set them within easy reach and began gathering a few dry leaves and twigs together. Within moments he had a small blaze going and set the tip of his blade into it while he gathered water from the stream. Boromir almost smiled at the efficiency of it all.
"Ready?" Faramir asked, drawing his wandering thoughts. His brow was cocked as he regarded the older man.
Boromir took up a stick and jammed it between his teeth. "Get it done."
§
By the time the arrow had been removed, Boromir was doused in sweat and shaking violently: Faramir pressed a hand to his neck, and Boromir knew by the grim caste to his brother's face that shock had set in, was distantly aware enough to know himself that his pulse was too weak, his skin clammy and cool. He tried to flash his brother a reassuring smile, but the motion turned into a scream as Faramir pressed down against the blood oozing from his wound.
Faramir winced but continued to administer what aid he could, desperately shuttering his eyes to the grey pain etched into every line of his sibling's face. Eventually satisfied he had done all he could he stood, eying his handiwork before turning his attention to their surroundings.
Even to Boromir's less-than-sharp eyes, the pale moonlight filtering through the branches was enough by which to see the dark line of blood that he had spilled over the ferns and grass. Faramir pressed his lips together.
"Do not move until I return," he said.
"What? Where do you think you are going? You cannot hope to find the others, nor fight off the orcs in this light!" Boromir said. "I can scarcely see you in this fog."
Faramir gave a queer half smile and picked up his small hunting knife once more. Boromir understood then, even as he raised the blade and drew it across his forearm.
"You intend to draw them away."
"It is our only chance." Faramir nodded, returning his gaze evenly. "They will follow your blood, but if I can lay another trail, they may be swayed."
Boromir's brows puckered. "Mir…" he mumbled. "If you—"
"I will not fail. I promise you that." Faramir vowed, kneeling suddenly before him to take up his hand. "I will be back before first light."
Boromir swallowed, pushed away his worry. "Go then, and be swift."
Wordlessly, the younger man nodded and rose. Within moments his lithe form had been swallowed up by the trees, leaving Boromir alone in the glade.
"Fuck!" he hissed, slamming his fist against the ground.
§
Boromir almost choked in relief as Faramir emerged from the mists, dawn breaking beyond the trees at his back.
"Thank Eru!" he said, closing his eyes in a long blink. He felt suddenly weary beyond measure. He startled when a warm hand on his face brought him back to awareness.
Faramir hovered over him, face pinched and pale in the early light. His shoulders sagged. Boromir's eyes flickered over him then in alarm, noting the huge rusty stain over his left side.
"Mir…"
Faramir caught his questing hand and held it fast within his own. "I am here."
Boromir shook himself and straightened up a little, shifting his back against bark.
"Lie still," Faramir ordered gently, palm pressed flat against his chest to stop him from moving further. Boromir complied with a grumble but grabbed at his brother as he made to move out of reach.
"You are wounded. What happened?" he said.
Faramir sighed and bowed his head, lending Boromir a glimpse of sticky blood matted at his temple. "They bore the mark of the White Hand…"
"Saruman," Boromir said. "Are we so close to Rohan already?"
"Aye, it must be so. With luck we might come across a patrol from the Riddermark, but we must away with haste: I fear some of the Uruk's escaped me, it may be we have only a few hours till they are upon us."
Boromir nodded, resting a heavy palm on Faramir's shoulder. "You have done well, brother. But you must rest and eat a little, and let me tend your hurts," Boromir insisted.
Faramir shook his head, "I have bound it as best I can for now. There is not time for more. We must move."
Boromir grumbled at his brother's reasonable obstinance and pretended not to see the spasm of pain that flashed across his face as he rose, arm pressed firmly against his left side. Boromir arched a brow at him.
"It is well for you that I have not been idle," he said, holding aloft a long stick which he had fashioned into a crutch during the lonely hours of his watch in the night.
"Indeed, I have no wish to lug your weighty form any further," Faramir chuckled and reached out a hand to haul him to his feet.
Boromir accepted the proffered grip, knowing it was the only way he would be able to rise. He echoed the grunt that escaped Faramir's lips as he shifted, pain biting into him leaving his stomach queasy and his mind dull. Despite his brother's own pain Faramir grasped him tighter, holding him fast till he could take a breath and move. Boromir smiled, wondering what he had done to deserve such a brother, to deserve such selfless loyalty, but quickly sobered as he felt the tremors from Faramir's hand. One look at the younger man's face confirmed Boromir's suspicious that only his prodigious will power was preventing him from collapse. Boromir knew that he himself was in little better condition and was eager to move off.
"Let us go."