Disclaimer: First of all, I do not own this nor any character, phrases, or plot bunnies you may recognize from JRR Tolkiens' Books or Peter Jacksons' films, second of all If did (which I don't) I wouldn't be writing fan fiction.
Dedications and thanks: Id like give A LOT of credit to Starwolf the Insane (userid=136788 Read her stuff, its good!) if it wasn't for and RP done by the two of us, the entire first chapter would never have been written and I would have never come up with ideas for the second and third, so THANKS Mellon!
Rated: R
FYI- This Story is Rated for Rape and violence, and if you care to know a tiny tiny tiny mention of suicide. If this squicks you, click the back button now. This story is only three chapters long so I hope you enjoy, Flames will be used to cook toast DO NOT WRITE ME ABOUT GRAMMAR, other then that, criticism welcome. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!
FYI 2- Much lighter, kinda fluffy, very short. Thank you to all who have reviewed Iv had excellent feedback, the best Iv had for any story! This is the end I'm afraid, the final chapter :cries: I worked for two months on the whole thing so I hope you like(d) it. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! And check out other sotries my myself and my good friend Starwolf the insane! Cheers!
Chapter 3
The patient forest of Lorien fell behind them, as the mighty river tossed the slender boats gracefully down its mighty depths. In the head, Aragorn stroked the glass toped surface, breaking through it with might slices of his ore while the young gardener hobbit clutched the slim sides and the Ringbearer looked to shore with curiosity. Behind, elf and dwarf shared a boat compatibly, laughing in turn at one humorous memory, then another. Last was Boromir and the two youngest of the Hobbits, who's tiny ears caught snatches of tales from each races' homeland, piping up in a tiny little voice, Pippin questioned,
"Boromir, you talk little of your kin, why not share a story or two of your home and family! A man of Gondor must have a wealth of stories," gazing thoughtfully into the crystalline river, the future steward replied as soft as a breeze,
"Gondor has ceased to show the caring your stories bring little one, for love is long forgotten in the halls of the kings." Silencing, the fellowship gazed back at the weakened man in surprise. They knew of Gondors' troubles, of his passion for the city and its blood, its people, but never had such sentimental emotion poured from his lips toward anything save honor. Shaking his head is disbelief, the dwarf murmured
"Not long forgotten Id wager, if such a fine man as yourself comes forth from it lad," Gimli smiled a kindly smile at the man, renewing hope in the Gondorian mans' breast.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Darkness, screaming, licking flames surrounded him, searing the skin and sinew from his bones, the cackling face of his Lord looming from above.
"Awake" the command broke the fiery flames, allowing a pale light to shine warm on scorched skin, healing it with gentle care. Pleasure coursed through his limbs, as his simple steps brought him further into the light, and closer to a door, rising into oblivion, its golden arches looming comfortably above his head. Creaking with age, the steel hinges widened opening the faded oak panels and revealing a dark figure, clothed in splendor and grace, its long blonde hair falling soft about his shoulders, and silver eyes glinting with mirth.
"Brother, time is short and the darkness waits not for stragglers, come." Left speechless by the soft voice, and fair face, Faramir reached out a soiled hand to stroke the solid flesh of his brother, Boromir.
"What fell vision haunts me," whispered the young steward "walk I into delirium or reality? For you feel real but in my mind it cannot be," a booming laugh exploded from the elders lips, echoing around them.
"Ever cynical, ever questioning brother, Nay this is no dream, nor is it reality. Foolhardiness costs you brother, nearly a life, your own as the case is, but the King summons you and I must guide you to the mortal realm." A lone tear escaped the clouded gray eyes of the steward, cleaning the dirt from his cheek and drying on his frowned lips. Mirth falling from his face, Boromir took his brothers face in his hands, bending to touch foreheads.
"It is not your time brother, a life of joy you have yet to live but do not despair we shall not forever be parted, I shall whisper to your ears whenever the wind blows strong or still, I shall embrace you whenever anguish pays you company. When the stars shine, and the night brothers glow, I will stand beside you. Nay, I shall not leave you dearest of kin, for I am here" placing a hand over the beating heart "and soon shall another take place there as well." Tears welled again, brushed away by Boromirs' loving hand as he whispered
"I love you Little Brother."
"I Love-" Boromir vanished, and, blinking, Faramir now gazed into the fair face of a hobbit who peered anxiously into his own.
"Strider, he's awoken!" the Halfling cried, his squeaky voice drilling painfully into the stewards' sore skull,
"I noticed as much Merry, how do you feel Faramir steward?" The man called strider questioned, receiving a vague "as well" from his patient while the young Halfling chattered. The sun set before Faramir was granted peace, and though weak, he demanded assistance to the healing gardens, he held no wish to remain encased in warmth and softness.
The flowers perfumed the air sweet, and glowed as though blessed with elvish power, the large windows looking to the east cast only a dim memory of pain and screams as the clouds rolled in dark around the city.
Faramir watched solemnly, when to his wonder a break in the cloud appeared to his weak eyes, and for barley a moments passing the brother stars twinkled in mirth and hope for the young brother below them.
Watching with a smile of satisfaction, silver eyes pierced the young ones own while Faramir gazed unawares. Kissing the cool brow with the gentlest of breezes, Boromir whispered on the winds own voice,
"Be at peace Steward of
Gondor."
