Thank you to Kaisaan Greenleaf, Zammy, Blade Draco for the reviews
"ARGH… Li-nam urîk- Bâ ki-bithahê… Ki-yadahê êphalak, Bâ ki-nakhahê."
Faramir smothered his laughter as growls and groans came from his brother. Finally he got himself under tight enough control to bang on the door
"Come in!"
Boromir's shout was more of a plea and he had a hard time keeping his face blank as he entered. Two boys leapt off the bed and shot out the door, both laughing and grinning. Smiling again Faramir approached the lump on the bed, addressing it in Adunaic.
"Good morning brother."
"Presume it was you who sent those two to wake me up?"
"Would I do that?"
"Yes" came the grumble, then eyes fixed on him, still sharp despite wine blearyness "Now what is it Faramir?
He took a breath "You'll be joining us at Council today"
Boromir groaned "My head is already splitting, I do not need everyone yelling in surprise that I'm alive and then debating over silly matters for three hours."
Faramir sighed "It's the King's command."
His brother sighed in response and slowly disentangled himself from the blankets "If it is what Aragorn wishes, then I will come…I only hope it doesn't go on for hours"
"It won't, it's the first day of the festival… I think Aragorn's only calling this meeting because of you."
Sure enough Boromir sighed yet again "I wish he wouldn't… I still feel guilty about what I nearly did, the chaos I caused.." Faramir watched as he raised his head from staring at his lap "I nearly destroyed the Quest, and all Arda with it."
"Enough" Even Faramir was surprised at how sharp his voice was "As you told me many times, wallowing in guilt only makes it seem worse… Now get up, or else you'll have to miss breakfast, the council's been called early."
They walked side by side across the courtyard to one of the side entrances of the great hall, Boromir with his hood up again until they were safely in the passage.
"I'll be happy when I can walk around without hiding any more, it's very tiring."
Faramir nodded distractedly and held up his hand. Boromir stopped obediently and dropped back to half a step behind his brother. Then Faramir opened a second door and led him in.
As familiar as he was with Great Hall, he still subjected it to a long gaze. The tall statures of long dead kings kept their positions as silent sentinels … and the tiled floor froze his feet, even through his boot leather. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling his shoulders drop and the muscles in his back relax.
I'm home… I'm truly, truly home
Slowly he focused his attention on the broad table that stood a short distance from the edge of the throne plinth. His uncle and all the other lords that made up the High Council were already seated in their positions and he watched as Faramir walked forward to assume what had once been their father's seat. Then his eyes were drawn to the side. With all the majesty he'd heard the kings of old possessing Aragorn, Tar-Elessar strode to his place at the centre of the table, drew himself up and spoke "Great Council convened on 7th Cerveth"
A slight scratching distracted Boromir from his study of the council and he looked around to see Elrond sitting at a smaller table, quill in hand and writing. His writing wasn't furious back and forth like one of the court scribes, but steady and flowing. However, discussions hadn't started yet, then he knew though not quite from experience, how quick and accurate a scribe had to be. As Aragorn started speaking he turned his eyes back to the table, most were frowning and angry, but his uncle seemed unconcerned and Faramir was struggling to stop his eyes from glinting
"…this meeting to announce an alteration, and elect a new member to the council." The king drew breath "The office of Captain General is being separated from the Steward at least for the life time of its holder
"Who is that?" Barked a frowning, dark eyed and dark haired man "And on what authority do you re-arrange the situation of this city?"
He saw Aragorn's jaw tense "My own authority, Lord Arnubên, the authority of the king." Then Aragorn turned towards him and beckoned "As for who will hold the office…"
He took the hint and stepped up to the empty chair, sweeping his hood back as he did so and counting seconds in his mind.
1…2…3
Then the hall erupted, most of the lords shouting questions at each other and at the king.
"SILENCE"
Elrond's commanding voice cut through to noise like a knife on butter and Boromir sighed with relief.
"If you have all finished behaving like orcs, I think Tar-Elessar has something to say"
The voice was stern, its barb well aimed and he noted with approval how it was followed by the official title of their lord. A title that sent a burning glare whistling towards the elf-lord.
The King turned back to his council "It was by pure luck that the Captain-General did not die on Amon Hen as had been believed, and it is even luckier that he was able to rescue the Prince and return him to us, unharmed… It is for this reason that I am restoring him to his former position
"Why not give him the stewardship? He's Lord Denethor's eldest"
At the other end of the table Boromir saw his uncle shut his eyes at the noble's stupidity, then he glanced to Aragorn who nodded, subtly tilting his head.
"Because I do not want it."
All along the table heads turned back to him as he strode to Aragorn's side and knelt
Aragorn's eyes were sparkling "Boromir Denethorion, will you take up the Stewardship of Gondor and serve your king in all ways required by this office?"
He took a deep breath, feeling all the eyes on him, more than could be accounted for by the council alone "I Boromir Denethorion, refuse the office of steward." There was a collective whooshing of breath, made up of six inward and many more outward
"On what grounds?"
He gritted his teeth, hating Aragorn for going through the entire ceremony but knowing it was required to shut the lords up "On these grounds; Firstly Prince Faramir has proved a most able steward in my long absence. Secondly; He was appointed by your majesty and has done nothing to merit dismissal Thirdly; there have been precedents that a younger son may take the office of an elder and retain it when the elder returns. On these grounds do I refuse the Stewardship, Tar-Elessar."
"Your grounds are true, Boromir Denethorion and I accept them."
He bobbed his head, but stayed down, holding his sword out hilt first "Here do I swear fealty and service to Gondor in peace or war, in living or dying, from this hour henceforth until my lord release me or death take me."
There was a brief thud sound, like someone nearby placing a hand on a table as they wobbled. Whoever it was, it wasn't Aragorn, for his words were perfectly steady
"Your fealty is accepted. Rise… Captain-General of Gondor."
As he stood up there was a smattering of applause but he had eyes only for his brother.
Faramir leant against the table, blood returning slowly to his face. But his eyes were distant, haunted once more, and it took a moment before Boromir received the slight nod of acceptance he was waiting for. When he did he stepped smartly backward before bowing and sidestepping to retake his position at the table.
"The council is now dismissed."
The nobles were slow to leave, each coming up to him and grasping his wrist or bowing. But finally only his kin were left, Faramir leaning on the table and his uncle sitting in his seat with the look he normally used for captured pirates.
"Wasn't there a fourth reason for you rejecting the Stewardship, Boromir?"
He nodded, just about keeping a straight face "Fourthly; Because I hate paperwork and official documentation."
"Hantanyel" Imrahil leant back in his chair "And I'm presuming it was you who set all the dogs off last night… either that or there was a wounded wolf around"
"Bâ ki-bithahê" He growled, eyes throwing daggers at his uncle. "I thought you were grown up."
The Prince of Dol Amroth rose to his feet and bowed "If you will excuse me Your Majesties, Lord Elrond?" Each nodded and Imrahil glanced along the table as he walked towards the hall door "Come along nephews"
With a suffering looks to each other he and Faramir followed.
"Amrothos will be surprised to see you Boromir, be grateful that Elphir and Erchirion are still in Dol Amroth."
He frowned as they entered the House that served the Dol Amroth family while in Minas Tirith, only subconsciously noting that things remained unchanged as they climbed the stairs "Where's Thiri then?"
"Rohan" That came from Faramir
"What is she doing there?"
"She married Éomer."
"WHAT!" It came out as a yelp and he stopped walking, staring from one to the other "You're jesting?" They both looked at him straight faced "Little Lightening Streak marrying Éomer?" He shook his head "Poor poor man."
"Boromir" Imrahil's voice carried a mock warning note, and he knew a look had been shot back at him over a sailor's shoulder "I'll thank you to speak well of your cousin."
"I wasn't being disparaging uncle, but you know what Thiri's like"
"Yes I do... I raised her" He detected a slight sigh, but was unsure if it was serious or another mock.
There was a mutter in his ear, more breathed than spoken "When in a hole, stop digging"
He nodded and kept pace with both of them along the corridor, only to be knocked back by something hitting his chest.
"Boromir!"
He flinched as his temples stung once more "Easy Amrothos."
"You're alive… Bergil came down and babbled something yesterday but I couldn't believe him…"
Now he smiled at his youngest male cousin, hearing a boyish over exuberance in the grown man "Yes I'm alive… and I'd be grateful if someone would report what I have missed.
"You tell us your story first."
He sighed, realising he'd been led into his uncle's study and backed against what they knew as the 'storytellers chair'. Shaking his head he sat down "I seem to have no choice in the matter."
"Well" Imrahil leant against the wall "It seems too good to be true, yet true it must be, for Eldarion is returned, and you are here.
He nodded slowly "I thought so myself at the start, and when Aragorn gave me my rank today." He frowned "Out of curiosity, what would you have done if I had accepted the Stewardship?"
"Punched you stupid" came Amrothos' response
He watched Uncle frown at his youngest before answering his half "I would have boxed your ears until you agreed to retract your vows, nephew…"Gray eyes met his own, and softened from their imagined anger "You acted rightly, though some will not see it that way"
"Pompous stuff shirts" He knew it was rude so changed the subject, before the eyes could become slatey, "Why was Dervorin in the council?"
"His father was killed in the war"
"Oh" It was strange, realising that he'd never see the jovial lord again. Never hear him laughing at his own misfortunes nor hear tall tales over mugs of ale. "We lost many… All through the lands… Tales of death and grieving."
"Yes" Imrahil's voice was soft "And there's been no sign or song of Adûnathôr since you left either."
That caught his attention "Nothing?"
His uncle's eyes mirrored his own grief "No"
"You've been along the coast, checked the fishing camps"
Amrothos spoke "I did that, on the pretext of making sure no corsairs had crept north… He's vanished"
There was a soft noise from Faramir, his head was bowed and his lips moved silently.
Boromir knew what it was he said, the old prayer for safety from the sea, passed down generation to generation. With a sharp movement he rose to his feet and walked over to his brother "I'd rather like to see some more of the Festival brother, will you come?"
Faramir looked at him, eyes still shadowed "Yes… I'll come"
As will I… Amrothos, find your light cloak, check that they are coping with the packing up then catch up"
Yes Attô" The younger of his cousins trotted out as Boromir frowned
"Packing up?"
"Wake up, more like" The old Faramir was suddenly back, his words lightly mocking "In two days all the lords go back to their lands for the rest of the summer, until Cormarë, then we stay on our lands again until high autumn, when we troop back to the city until early Spring…"
"Remember your summers at Dol Amroth?"
He nodded, relishing the memories, six weeks of swimming, playing games, trying to stay up late and listening to Adunathor..
"Galuben there can go home whenever he likes though, and frequently does."
They didn't realise how long they'd been standing until Amrothos walked back in.
"Bâ ki-bithahê" Faramir shot back, eyes glinting still "You're not needed at any time of the year at four hours' notice.
"Nossë..." The voice was quiet but they all reacted, turning to face Imrahil "Shall we go?
The streets were as filled with people as the day before, but this time there were stalls. Stalls groaning with goods of all kinds and trapped out in colours he only remembered seeing as a boy, bright purples and sunny yellows, dancing scarlet and white stripes.
People stared at the two of them as they walked side by side, shoulder to shoulder, always in step. But many ran forward with smiles on their face, to shake his hand, express disbelief and offer him welcome. Some he recognised now, either the people themselves or some familiarity with their kin. Yet soon he wished he'd kept his hood up, for it was strange being bombarded by people. Before, he had often been up on a horse, or amongst a squad of guards parading. Now, despite resumption of his position, he was no longer elevated, but, by following his brother's lead being treated close to an ordinary Gondorian. He realised that he was looking for guards to shepherd him to safety, becoming so on edge that he nearly leapt in the air when Faramir whispered in his ear
"Come"
A while later they were both seated on a stone bench in one of the gardens, sharing the fruit and cream Faramir had bought in companionable silence. He knew his brother was watching him, surreptitiously, but watching.
"What is it?" Quiet, gentle, Faramir
He stared out over the Pelennor, watching instinctively for the glow of red flame above the mountains. It wasn't there
"Everything is different, I didn't expect it to have changed so much…Even from Banakil's chatter…" He shook his head "This morning in the hall, I felt like I was home, now I no longer know where home is any more, or who I am. I've played the wanderer so long."
"You seemed confident enough in the Arbour Hall, and before The Council this morning"
"Trained formality, drilled into me so I could manage it in my sleep… No more answer as to who I am than that tree in the wind." He looked to his right, expecting to see Faramir and started as he recognised Aragorn instead. "My King"
Aragorn gestured for him to remain seated "You sound like me when I returned to Rivendell after my time down here. I was caught between rocks and hard places. Was I Aragorn, Cheiftan of the Dunedain, Estel of Rivendell, the Tark of Harad, or Thorongil?
"Thoron-" He gulped and lowered his voice "You're Thorongil?"
Aragorn nodded but otherwise ignored the comment "I became who I truly am by putting together all of those aspects, Boromir. As Elendil did before me and Elros Tar-Minyatur did before him." Grey eyes turned to him, warm and steady "I have but one thing to say; Go to Ithilien with Faramir."
He watched silently as the king rose to his feet and almost disappeared into the shadows of the trees, then, glancing speculatively around for his brother, swiped the last piece of fruit.
Translations
Adûnaic
Li-nam urîk= You are orcs
Bâ ki-bithahê= Be silent
Ki-yadahê êphalak= Be gone from my sight
Bâ ki-nakhahê= Don't come back
Quenya
Hantanyel= Thank you
Nossë=Family/Kin
Sindarin
Galuben= Blessed/Lucky one