Faramir took little delay in heading directly to the stables. He brushed passed Éomer as though he didn't exist and even Arwen did not act quickly enough to slow him. Concerned, the Elven queen followed the young man and caught up with him just as he was riding out.
"Faramir," she said, gently placing a graceful hand on his horse's neck, "why do you leave in such haste? To where are you riding?"
"My Lady," Faramir said with a slight bow, "i am returning home." The sadness in his eyes was pitiable. It was a look that he so often had worn that it seemed to fit him like no other.
"Why are you riding to Gondor, was it not agreed upon that you should leave in two months time?" Arwen asked, though she did not have difficulty guessing any of the answers.
"I am leaving because i am of no use here," Faramir said, not entirely lying to her. He had been feeling quiet useless, whereas at least back in Minas Tirith he had a job to do and felt satisfied at the end of the day.
"Is that the only motivation, Faramir?" she asked more coaxingly than anything. It would help him, she knew, to simply unburden his heart a little.
Faramir sighed, letting go of the reigns though he remained mounted. "My Lady, i see no reason to stay where i am obviously not needed nor wanted nor even trusted. I could and would bear up with Éowyn falsely accusing me, the Valar know i have passed that test before in my life. But i shall not accept anyone ever speaking of my dead brother and mother discourteously. It is not only that, it started the first time i met her and has only grown worse. She used to tolerate the courtesies i was raised to show a lady, but now if i hold a door for her or pull out a chair, even if i stand when she enters, i am on the receiving end of a disapproving glare. I have made for her many sacrifices in my own life, because it was my duty to do so and i shall not be termed derelict. It seems, though, that my sacrifices are meaningless to her. I absolutely do not know what else to do, but clearly i am only making things worse for her by staying. I am sure father will want to see you again very soon, he may leave as soon as i arrive at home. Here," he said, handing her a pouch from his belt, "i am sure you can use this better than i can."
"No!" Arwen nearly cried. "You must keep it, Faramir, not i," she said much softer.
"Very well, my Lady. Farewell." Faramir ended his statement quickly and rode off without anything more then the small pack he had arrived carrying.
Arwen saw that it would not be beneficial to try to convince Faramir to stay, for that would only embitter the Steward. She knew that for 36 years he had endured scorn without growing very disillusioned, but she wondered just how much one mortal Man could put up with. Instead she went quickly to find Faramir's uncle, Imrahil.
Finding Imrahil and Lothiriel both with Éomer, trying to tend to his re-injured wounds without the benefit of athelas, she decided to put off talking to Dol Amroth's contingent. What she needed to tell the Prince would be very poorly received by the King of Rohan. In the meanwhile, she supposed it might be prudent to pay a visit to Éowyn. The Queen of Gondor found the new bride in a exceedingly hysterical state.
ooo
Faramir rode hard all day but he did not over-exert himself or his horse and he made camp each night. He wondered if at some point he would catch up with Aragorn. He knew well enough that he wouldn't but he was interested in thinking about anything in Middle-earth other than the comments of his wife. He even settled for pondering the disturbing irony of the wretched Gollum, according to what Frodo had told him. At least Gollum never insulted two of the only people in all of Arda who actually cared for him.
Faramir found that he did, in fact, have much to mull over. Everything from the power of the Ring to the peace of the Shire was fair game for his thoughtful mind. Halfway along his journey, Faramir seriously contemplated taking a turn northward to follow Mithrandir and the Hobbits to Rivendell and the Shire beyond. However, he stayed true to his course, knowing that he did not need to wander off through unknown lands just now. What he needed was his home and his office.
Much as Aragorn had, Faramir found that the journey went quickly, though Faramir was more grateful of this than his father had been. Faramir slept his last night out at the eastern edge of the Grey Wood before heading to Minas Tirith was dawn. Faramir rose just before the rising sun and his eyes wandered to the stars that were still in the sky. It was with much reassurance that Faramir saw the Hunter returning to the eastern skies that morning.
Feeling heartened, Faramir rode into the city before the sky had even lost it's soft hues. The city was only just beginning to come to life and he went mostly unnoticed. He sent his horse off to the stable and headed to the Citadel. The guard, who was surprised to see him back so soon, bowed deeply. Faramir couldn't help but laugh to himself, thinking how good it felt to be home again.
Nor could he help noting the paradox that it was that he was rather hoping that the man he called father would be up and in his study, though the Steward felt no sense of urgency and wouldn't mind waiting for him.
For a while Faramir sat at the east window of his father's study. The Hunter's stars still shone very faintly and Faramir smiled. Boromir was never one to be terribly interested in the forms in the stars as Faramir was, but after their mother's death Boromir knew he needed to find a way to connect better with his little brother, who had gone from a happy child to terribly sullen so suddenly.
Boromir knew that Faramir already loved learning about anything he could and he noticed one winter night his little brother looked at the stars the same way their mother often did. A tale that Finduilas had often recounted to her first son came to mind, so Boromir told Faramir of the Hunter who traversed the winter skies and watched over the lands of Men.
It had not been until years later that Faramir had come to put the old tale, which he and Boromir shared even as they grew into men, with the tales of Tauron, the Vala Oromë. As the Hunter faded from Faramir's sight so slowly that he knew the stars did not leave with the day but merely were cloaked in the sun's light, Faramir thought of Boromir yet again. He knew that his beloved brother was not gone from his life, but merely cloaked until they were reunited one day. He knew the same was true of his gentle mother.
Faramir's thoughts were broken by the sound of whining hinge on the door of the King's study. It was then that he realized he had not yet even removed his cloak, thus explaining Aragorn's drawn sword. Throwing off the worn garment, his saw his father breath a deep sigh of relief, then his eyes narrowed in confusion.
"Ion-nín?" Aragorn asked, almost uncertain that he was looking at his own son.
"Adar." Faramir smiled, almost guiltily.
Aragorn sat down. He had very nearly seen this coming, and he handed Faramir the cup of tea he was about to imbibe, his son looking like he was more in need of it. Neither said anything for a while, both still rather in the waking stages, but Aragorn was first to break the silence. "It must have been a rather terrible fight," he said, Faramir's emotionless expression providing all the information he needed. "Don't feel too discouraged. I understand these things happen all the time. Arwen has told me some interesting stories about Galadhriel and Celeborn's arguments, unfortunately i am sworn to secrecy until the Lady of Lorien departs from Middle-earth. Beyond that, look at Glor' and Erestor, they have known each other for centuries and they can't stand one another. But they do work together for the same cause when need be. Incidentally... i would refrain from visiting your study just yet."
Faramir had been feeling a ray of hope until his father uttered that last sentence. He shook his head, deciding that perhaps it was for the best. He needed rest more than work as it was. Letting himself relax Faramir stared at the ceiling. He was pretty sure Aragorn had no idea how he had been cut by Éowyn's comment, but he wondered at himself as well. Why, he asked himself, had he reacted so immediately and so significantly as to leave her land because of a few words? He did not like the answers that met him: self-doubt... bitterness... ego.... Yes, these things might have all been factors, but none of these things necessarily would have driven him so away from what he believed to be his duty. Faramir feared the one last answer that unkindly mocked his thoughts.
ooo
Surprisingly... it has not been guessed, my second Shakespearean paraphrase of the story, way back in Chapter some or other, The King's Chain, i think. It was a paraphrase of a line from the play Titus Andronicus:
Demetrius: Villain, what hast thou done?
Aaron: That which thou canst not undo.
Chiron: Thou hast undone our mother!
Aaron: Villain, i have done thy mother!
