Title: Lessons Learned
Summary: The sons of the steward find that more than one lesson can be learned from one incident.
Story Notes: I can't have them? Why not? I want one. Ok, I want them both, but I'd settle for one. For now. No? Really? Fine. Since I don't own any of them and never will, I will sit here and pout. Then I will write.
Chapter 1
Knocking on his brother's door, Faramir didn't wait for the call to enter, but pushed into the room with all the urgency of a nine year-old wanting to see his big brother. Closing the door, his eyes scanned the room, searching for said brother. But Boromir was nowhere to be seen. Getting ready to call out, the young boy's gaze fell upon a sword. A real sword. Not a wooden training one like he was ever allowed.
He took cautious steps towards it, half expecting someone to come storming in and stop him. He reached out, grasped the hilt and slid it out of the sheath. Valar! Was it heavy! It took both hands and all his strength to raise it up. His small arms shook as he took position. He swung the weapon in an arc, amazed at the whooshing sound of the steel cutting through air.
His untrained muscles could not hold such a weight and as he swung the second arc, the blade slid lower, cutting through the top of his soft leather boot and into the delicate flesh of his left foot. The crash of the sword on the stone floor accompanied with the sound of his cry echoed through the room. He crouched to the floor, cradling the appendage as he whimpered. Faintly, he heard water splashing and then the sound of wet feet slapping.
"Faramir! What is wrong?" came Boromir's frantic voice. With a small whine, Faramir fell back onto his bottom and held out his foot, boot and all. "What happened to your foot?" Boromir asked as he reached for it, only to feel his towel start to slip from his narrow hips. Sighing, he quickly moved to the wardrobe where he withdrew a pair of breeches and struggled to pull them up his still damp legs.
Kneeling in front of his brother, Boromir grabbed the foot again and removed the boot, now dark with blood. He examined the large gash, "How did this happen?" Looking up, he saw Faramir glance to his unsheathed sword. "Faramir! You know you are not allowed to handle weapons yet. Father is going to be very displeased."
"I just wanted to see it. I did not think it would be so heavy."
"It is not that heavy. But you are not trained to use it yet." He said as he hefted his little brother into his arms. "You know it's a good thing you're still so small or I wouldn't be able to carry you so easily to the Houses of Healing."
"But they will tell father" Faramir worried as he was transported through the corridors. "Can't you bandage it?"
"It is too deep."
Knowing he would not sway the argument, Faramir rested his head on Boromir's shoulder and tried to ignore the throbbing in his foot.