An: / an angsty fluffy story between two brothers
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the rings if I did would I be here? Or would I be failing English?
Brother
Frantically he pulled his nearest clean tunic over his head, positioning it over the now sluggishly bleeding wounds on his back. He winced at the slight pressure, the weight of the material placed against them. Pulling hurriedly, assuring himself that the blood could not be seen, he walked as fast as he could manage to the open door. The bathing room, in which he had spent the quarter of an hour trying to staunch the throbbing wounds ,was shared between him his older brother. Faramir hoped that the blood wouldn't seep through the hastily wrapped bandages that covered his mutilated back. He had started to feel dizzy and slightly nauseous. Collapsing would cause many awkward questions to be asked. Very awkward ones indeed! He called on the reserves of energy he had left to stop himself from falling.
Boromir stood tiredly removing his armour, slightly inside the doorway to his chambers, his back to Faramir and the bathing room.
"Hail brother!" Faramir called amusedly from across the hall. He was leaning slightly against the ancient white stone walls that made the city now, his strength waning. A rare smile broke across his face as Boromir jumped slightly, dropping his mail shirt upon the floor. It emitted a loud metallic thump as it hit the polished stone.
Boromir was so much more to him than a brother; he was also his best friend and the only father figure he had ever known. When Faramir had been born, Findulas (their mother) had died. Never coming to terms with her death his father had turned on him. Denethor couldn't even look at his new born son, never mind raise him. Being the older brother, and old enough to comprehend what had happened, Boromir had taken over and Faramir could never repay him for this.
"Fara?" Boromir questioned concernedly looking deep into his eyes. Faramir blushed at being caught day dreaming yet again, father was right he would never become an Ithilien ranger. His brother chuckled deeply pulling him close into a tight warriors embrace. As his shirt and Boromir's arm made contact with his back, it was all he could do to keep himself from screaming out loud. Despite his efforts, he couldn't stop himself from making a strange high pitched moan of pain. This caused his brother to immediately let go of him, staring at his face worriedly before looking over his body. He could never tell his brother, what had happened it would only prove that he was weak, too weak to ever make his father proud.
Unfortunately his brother took that exact moment to look down at his right hand to see, to his horror that it was covered in warm red blood. "Fara…what, what has happened?" Boromir struggled to get the words out, the shock of his baby brother being hurt impeding his thoughts. Looking up from his hand just in time to see Faramir sliding slowly down the wall leaving a line of blood behind him till he reached the floor, where he lay senseless.
An overwhelming feeling of panic filled him. Faramir at the very least was still breathing, but too shallowly to bring him any comfort. Boromir scooped him up in his strong arms avoiding touching his back, where he presumed, due to the state of his tunic, all the blood was coming from.
AN: Thanks for reading please review Updated Feb 14 2010