Faramir ran his fingertips along the cold, stone wall as he walked down the silent corridor. All other members of the castle were fast asleep, none of them being able to shake off the feeling of impending doom. His father's words that afternoon had cut deep, deeper than they ever had before when he constantly put Faramir a step behind his older, braver, more successful brother. His mind strayed to the hobbit, who had been roaming the castle for the past few days, looking a little lost and a little helpless. How they had sat by the fountain and laughed… like we used to laugh.

Faramir pushed the thoughts from his mind, the beauty of the memory of his brother's kind face lingering for only a second in the darkness before disappearing back into the corners of his memory.

He felt a presence in the hall ahead, a little way in front of him. As the corridor shifted into focus, he could make out the outline of the Halfling.

He approached the hobbit, who appeared to be glancing round nervously.

"Pippin?"

The man in question turned to face him, his mouth cracking open into a huge grin when he saw who was calling him.

"You look a little lost."

Pippin nodded, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I… can't find my room."

Faramir laughed into his sleeve, careful to not to wake any of the sleeping inhabitants of the illustrious castle.

"Fancy a walk?" Pippin smiled even wider and nodded happily, and Faramir led him out of the main doors and into the silent courtyard.

"It's nice out here." Pippin piped up, the light of the moon playing off the soft curls of his hair.

"Yes, it is. I used to come out here… when I was a boy."

They stood against the white railings, the city sleeping far beneath them.

"I'm sorry… for what Lord Denethor said today." Pippin's voice was sad, and quiet, and Faramir shook his head.

"You don't have to apologise on behalf of my father. He's always been like this. Ever since we were boys."

Pippin looked up at him, a gentle breeze ruffling his hair and clothes. "You're a good man, Faramir. And a good soldier. Plus, you're much better looking than Boromir was."

His voice had a hint of mischief, and Faramir laughed, glad that the darkness didn't allow Pippin to see the growing blush on his face.

Pippin smiled. "You have a nice laugh… you should laugh more."

Faramir smiled, but it was not without a trace of sadness. "I don't laugh much anymore."

They stood and watched the sky as it lightened, casting long, dark shadows around them. As the light hit Pippin's face, Faramir saw an innocence that he rarely found in another. Completely untouched by the darkness, Pippin's soul was happy and free, and Faramir wondered if he would ever know freedom like his.

"The sun's rising. It's a brand new day." Pippin's voice silenced all Faramir's thoughts, and without even considering the consequences, he knelt down to Pippin's height, pulling the smaller male against him and pressing their lips together.

Pippin succumbed to the kiss, pressing the palms of his hands to Faramir's neck and arching his back to press their mouths closer together. The kiss was hot and sweet, and Faramir found himself not wanting to pull away. Tears pricked at his eyes, as he remembered the last person he had kissed, on the night before he rode out to his death.

It was Pippin who eventually broke the kiss, his eyes fluttering open as Faramir stood up. They both knew the meaning behind the kiss, both of them pining for a lost love, both of them seeking love, and friendship, and overall, happiness. Pippin slipped his small hand into Faramir's, and they stood, lost in their own thoughts as the sun rose to bring a new dawn to Middle Earth.