Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof

Author's note: They mentioned fish and chips in The Two Towers, so I thought it would be all right to have them in this story.

*****

Faramir jumped as the hot, oily paper package fell into his lap. Well, not fell, accurately: was dropped, more like. He juggled against the sudden heat, then managed to gather the package in his hands. Elessar sat next to Faramir, swung his legs over the edge of the roof and said, "By Elbereth, but that was an exciting climb! Go ahead, rip open the package, aren't you keen on burning the roof of your mouth?"

"Ought I be?" But Faramir could not deny the tantalizing smells coming from the package. Tearing apart one wall of the paper prison, he grasped the first edible prisoner he could lay hands on and popped it into his mouth. "By Elbereth!"

Elessar laughed. "Nice manners there," he teased. "Not familiar with chips, are you?"

"No. . .Father would not have approved," Faramir answered. "Ah! That's hot!"

"Just wait until they cool, then you will realize that they truly haven't much taste without salt," Elessar answered, snatching a handful of chips from the package. For a moment the two sat in silence, enjoying their view of the lower circles of Minas Tirith, their backs to the upper circles, from the stable roof. The smell of chips and the sound of muffled chewing kept their silence from being absolute, kept their atmosphere from being unfriendly.

"Do you come up here often?" Elessar asked at last.

Faramir shook his head and licked oil from his fingers. "You are terrible at small talk, sire, if I may speak frankly. However, since you have asked, I have not been up here in many years."

Elessar rubbed his greasy fingers along the edge of his tunic to clean them off, leaving him with several stains and a rather unsatisfactory, half-oily feel on his fingers. "You and Lady Éowyn are planning on a spring wedding, are you not? This was the rumor I heard."

"We are, yes." Faramir brushed a strand of hair out his eyes. He made no further efforts towards conversation.

"So. Here we are, circumlocuting."

His brow wrinkled, Faramir answered, "It is a noun, sire. One does not 'curcomlocute.' At least, not that I know of."

Elessar chewed thoughtfully, ruminating, then said, "So. Here we are, beating around the bush."

For some reason, this seemed quite funny to Faramir and he laughed appreciatively. "Beating around the White Tree," he answered.

Looking sidewise at Faramir Elessar commented, "I do believe, Faramir, that for the first time I have heard you jest. Is there beer in those chips?" Both men laughed at this.

"We are not laughing, you realize, but giggling," Faramir commented, "and it is shameful that two of Gondor's chief politicians cannot address a matter of little significance without much fear and circumlocution."

"Faramir. . ."

Elessar reached out to touch his shoulder, but Faramir drew away, pulling his knees up to his chin and wrapping his arms around himself. "Tell me of my brother," Faramir said. "Were you with him when he died?"

"I was. Boromir lay among the bodies of his slain foes: great were their numbers. He spoke that he had tried to take the Ring from Frodo and that he was sorry. He bid me go to Minas Tirith and save his people."

"Boromir--" Faramir swallowed a lump in his throat and continued, "Boromir would have said that. His thoughts often strayed to his people ere his self."

At this Elessar blanched, knowing that Faramir spoke of confused memories, then said, "With all due respect, are we not here to speak truth?"

"He was a good man and a fine leader, albeit in times of war," said Faramir. "I looked up to him, trusted him. . .I wanted to be just like him but I. . .my weaknesses were too many and too great. I could not fight like he could, a sword felt unpleasant in my hands. Why? Why was I the weakling and he so strong? Day by day I strove to be more like him. . .to be what my father wanted in a son. . .

"And so I lived my life in his shadow, following his footsteps and wishing I could fulfill them. Much resentment comes from this. All the feelings I kept hidden from the world, all the urges I denied--reading, studying as I should have liked--have returned to haunt me. The person I never became taunts me for being so different from him!

"Gondor has no call of armies now, and here I, who so failed in the great battles, would fail also. Hours wasted in reading that might be better spent. . .Never timely, either, there is no attribute to be proud of. What am I? What have I become, this one half-fighter half-scholar being never part of one world or another quite, but always in part. What use now is there of one who can neither fight nor think--"

"Faramir!" Elessar stood and grasped the arm of the other man, who now looked to the ground below them. "Faramir. . ." He shook his head: no. "That would be truly a waste of your life." In the growing darkness the two had difficulty seeing one another, but they met each other's eyes as best they could. "You can fight, Faramir. I have seen you fight and you can fight. It is true that this skill is but learned; nevertheless! As for thinking, oh, were there any mind in Gondor half as well tuned as yours I have yet to meet him. Where does this insecurity come from?"

Faramir shrugged. "You did not live your life in the shadow of another, you cannot begin to understand."

"Now that is a truly preposterous idea," Elessar answered.

"Indeed." Faramir snorted. "What are we doing here? Why do you care about me? This is all mixed up."

"We are here to talk. I care about you because you are a kind, interesting, intelligent man whose is obviously in a lot of pain. Do you ever wish your brother had paid you more mind? Did you ever seek to please your father with your mind?"

Faramir bit his lip. He should have seen that one coming: the old rule of I ask, you ask. "I did often wish to be given credit for the things I did right as well as those I did wrong. Being a second son does not make me a failure. Sometimes I did try to show my father how bright I was, or thought I was, but he had some snippish response. I was wasting his time with my childish dabbles, I was trying to outdo him. If I beat him at a game of chess I was a disloyal son, if I lost a weakling and a push-over. What was the point? That is not my question," he added quickly. "What do you see me as, in relation to you? You do not treat me as a Steward. Do you see me as your brother, perhaps, trying to replace Boromir?"

"A friend, I suppose," Elessar answered. Offering up a part of himself he said, "Being fostered into an Elven family, one thing I grew up believing was that family is whomever you love. Perhaps I do see you as a brother. Why do you think your father pushed you around so often?"

For a long while there was silence, then Faramir spoke to a distant point on the horizon, "Mother. . .could not go full term with me. When I was born she was left very weak, she never recovered and sometimes I think she never wanted to. You see, and there was another. . ."

/Denethor strode purposefully into the room, at last admitted by the midwife. "Finduilas?" he knelt worriedly by his wife, so pale and tired upon the bed. What exertions had she been through? Boromir's birth had not been so difficult. Why should this second child ruin his mother as such? "Finduilas. . ." Denethor clasped her slender hand between both of his; she felt so cold!

At last a sign of life, Lady Finduilas turned her head and smiled weakly at Denethor. "It is all right, love. Only let me rest now. I am so tired!" She closed her eyes and within moments had passed to the world of dreams. Many hours she would dream before waking.

"Where is my child?" Denethor asked. "Have I not another son?" He stood and looked to the midwife, who held a squaling child in her arms. How had he not heard the crying? The midwife's apprentice, behind her, knelt on the ground. What did she work at? Denethor shifted but could not see.

"You have a son," the midwife told him, "be thankful for him."

She held out the blanket-wrapped boy. "He is awfully small," Denethor said without taking the child.

"There is little can be done now to fix this, Lord Denethor," the midwife spoke. "Having been born so early has not aided him, and, Lord, there was another. This boy. . .but also a girl." The apprentice rose then, and solemnly handed to Denethor a second blanket-wrapped body, lifeless and losing heat quickly.

Swallowing heavily, he peeled away the blanket to see a waxy blue little girl, already beautiful. Tears came to the eyes of Denethor but he would not cry them. Harshly, he covered the child again. "Dispose of it," he said. "Let Lady Finduilas not know."

"My Lord, with all respect, she knows a-ready," the midwife spoke, but Denethor would not be swayed. So little he knew of the ways of women! "Very well, but I warn you Lord Denethor, do not ask your lady for another child. The birth alone might kill her."/

"I could be my mother's daughter but not my father's son," Faramir finished. "My sister. . .Not a day goes by I do not mourn her loss. If she had only lived, I used to think, Mother would have been happy. Her heart would have healed. That was silly. Such things cannot be changed. Who fostered you?"

"Lord Elrond of Rivendell. Did she have a name?"

"The girl? No. She did live long enough. Did you ever have a pet?"

"No, did you?"

"Yes. I kept a rabbit I was supposed to kill. It's getting awful dark. We should go back."

"I agree." The two climbed off the roof in silence, swinging themselves to the ground gracefully. "Will you come to the next dinner? The twins will be civil, I will see to that."

Faramir considered a moment. "All right," he said, "I suppose I will."

"Excellent! It is tomorrow evening."

Faramir laughed. "I don't think I will be able to compete in the soup game, though."

"You will not need to, no one but Arwen knows how to make that soup."

"Who is going to cook?" Faramir asked. It had never occurred to him that the group rotated jobs. In the silence he turned to Elessar, who raised an eyebrow slyly. Faramir bit back laughter.

"If you come, you are family. Feel free to laugh. Just remember that sooner or later, you will have to take your turn at it!"

*****

To be continued!

I know that writing in the girl was something of a risk, because it's not strictly canon. Hopefully no one is terribly upset by it.