A/N: Okay, this actually started out as the first chapter, but I decided that Boromir needed an introduction before he began solving problems (or causing them). That's the reason for the speedy update. This chapter was already half-typed! Well, the first part, anyway.
Disclaimer: Don't own it. Wish I did. Enough said.
SHOUT-OUTS: (My favorite part!)
Julia: 'Back from the beyond', indeed! I've always loved that phrase. So you want to know what Boromir was going to say about Eowyn. Well, he has quite a bit to say about her in this chapter. But I don't think you'll like it. Never fear, though. It's all part of 'The Plan'. And the next couple of chapters deal expressly with the days leading up to Faramir and Eowyn's wedding. As for Aragorn...it's very odd that you should ask about him. (grins evilly)
Rosie/26: Thank you so much for reviewing! I have wanted to explore Boromir and Faramir's relationship for a long time. I'm glad you're enjoying it so far. This chapter didn't turn out precisely how I wanted it, but I hope you like it nevertheless. And there will be moments in future chapters when Boromir is around when Faramir doesn't need him. Or to be more precise, doesn't want him. Yes, definitely.
Sache8: Boromir is ascended? I must admit, I never thought of that before I got your review, but you've given me a whole new perspective on things. Boromir is an Ancient! Wait a minute, wait a minute! I feel a crossover coming on! No. No, it passed. Darnit. And you weren't being silly. I love it when people do stuff like that in their reviews. And you're right. If Boromir is ascended, then whatever help he offers Faramir won't be helpful at all.
Susan W: Why, hello! Now, I can't tell you what Boromir's unfinished business is. You'll find out soon enough. But thank you so much for reviewing. I just love reviews.
Angoliel: Hmmmm. There's that word again. 'Intrigued'. Where is it going? Well, I'll tell you. This story is going to be a compilation of short stories that, in the end, actually have a point. Truly. No, I'm telling the truth. Don't frown at your computer screen. It isn't good manners. If you must frown, then frown at me. There, that's better.
Mercury Gray: Yes, all older siblings, male or female, are big pains. I can say that because I am the oldest in a family of three. I know whereof I speak. So I figured Boromir should torment Faramir every once in a while. And why not have Faramir hear voices? He sees dead people. AAAAHHHHH! Vision of Haley Joel Osment playing Faramir!! Get it out! Get it out!!!!! He's a good actor, but he's no David Wenham! GET IT OUT!!!!!!
The Last Evenstar: My goodness, you're going to make my head explode with those compliments. Really, you are. And since I do not want to be responsible for the death of one of my most faithful reviewers, here is another installment. Better than AFF? Uh-oh. I'm going to have to start topping myself.
LadyDeb: My first reviewer! You know, you'll probably think I'm really stupid when you read this, but I actually had tears in my eyes when I wrote that part about Pippin. I had this vision in my mind of that scene, only I could see Boromir standing behind Pippin, whispering in his ear and encouraging him. Yeah, I know. I'm crazy. By the way, thanks for reading over that chapter of AFF. I really appreciate it. I'll e-mail you tomorrow and let you know how it's going.
''''''''''''''The Citadel in Minas Tirith – Two weeks before the wedding of Faramir and Eowyn
"I am not a possession!"
"I never said you were!"
"But you act as though I am and actions speak louder than words!"
"Be that as it may, Eowyn, your words are loud enough for the entire city of Minas Tirith to hear! I should not be surprised if my men in Osgiliath could hear you right now!"
"I am not the only one guilty of speaking in raised tones! Listen to your own voice, Faramir!"
"How can I? You're shrieking too loud for me to hear anything at all!!"
The next sound was very clear. It was the sound of a slammed door and, just down the corridor, the King of Gondor winced when the sound echoed through the halls of the chamber. He looked over at his wife, who smiled at him reassuringly.
"They will be fine," she said.
"It's been like this for two days," Aragorn said, his voice close to a whine. Eowyn had returned from Rohan a week ago to begin making final preparations for her marriage to Faramir. From the sounds that had just emanated from Faramir's study, however, Aragorn doubted that the marriage would even take place.
"Estel, all couples argue," Arwen reminded him, returning her attention to the book she was reading.
"We never argued like that," he replied staunchly. Arwen cocked one eyebrow in a manner that was eerily reminiscent of Lord Elrond.
"Did we not?" she asked.
"No," he held firm to his initial statement.
"I seem to recall," she looked thoughtful as she laid the book aside and rose, walking over to where he sat in his favorite chair, "when a certain Ranger decided he would celebrate the anniversary of his betrothal to his beloved by having a picnic on Cerin Amroth..."
Aragorn groaned.
"Only to find out that he was, indeed, entirely off the mark regarding the date of the aforementioned betrothal. In point of fact..."
"Arwen, it had been a particularly horrible year. Will you continue to throw that one mistake in my face for the rest of my life?"
Arwen smiled.
"Then there was the question of the Ranger's attachment to a particularly lovely maiden in a small village on the outskirts of Rohan."
The King of Gondor spluttered.
"Arwen! Surely you cannot mean....But she was like a sister to me!"
"And let us not forget the time..."
"Alright, alright. You have proven your point. And very well, I might add. I suppose that we have had our share of particularly nasty fights."
Arwen had been all smiles up until this point. She did love teasing her Estel with past transgressions, or supposed transgressions as the case may be. But now she grew serious as she knelt down in front of him and took both his hands in hers.
"And after all of them, we both realized one thing. That we loved each other. And I am certain, Estel, that Faramir and Eowyn will realize the same. I have watched them together. They love each other passionately, which is why these arguments have been so...."
"Explosive?" Aragorn volunteered. Arwen frowned.
"Not a word I would have used, but if that is what you want to call them."
"It is," came the quick reply. Again, Arwen frowned.
"Eowyn and Faramir will come around in time. Soon, they will be married and living just as happily in Ithilien as we are in Minas Tirith. Trust me, meleth nin. Have I ever led you astray?"
Aragorn looked thoughtful as he pulled one of his hands away from Arwen and began to stroke his chin.
"Well....there was that time in Lothlorien....."
But he never finished, for the Daughter of Elrond promptly tackled the King of Gondor, sending the chair flying backward and both of them sprawling to the floor. A wrestling match ensued, but the Evenstar was not above cheating. Since Arwen was privy to all sorts of secrets about her husband, courtesy of Elladan and Elrohir, it wasn't long before she used one tactic her brothers had informed her would always work. The guards who constantly patrolled the corridors of the Citadel couldn't be sure, but they thought they heard hysterical laughter coming from their king's study. In truth, Arwen soon had the upper hand. And, as tickle-fights so often do, the scene quickly escalated into something much more intimate. So, dear reader, let us leave the happy couple for now and join the true reason for this story.
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''Faramir's Study
While Aragorn and Arwen were discussing the marriage of their friends, one of those friends was pacing his study, mumbling under his breath. Unfortunately, most of his mutterings were not of the romantic sort.
Faramir had recently learned, to his dismay, that the very woman he was planning to spend the rest of his life with possessed a very peculiar talent. She could make him angry quicker than anyone he had ever met in his entire life. By nature, Faramir was even-tempered and slow to wrath. And so he had been astonished two evenings ago when Eowyn had managed, within five minutes time, to provoke him into raising his voice. Indeed, even the servants within hearing of the couple had been astonished. Rarely had Lord Faramir spoken in such a way!
Yet he had done so that night. And the next. And again today. Faramir shook his head as he continued pacing. Surely this was not how things were supposed to be. He wished he could remember more about his parents' marriage. All he remembered was bits and pieces, but those bits and pieces were happy memories at least. He could recall no arguments, no raised voices. Whatever Denethor might have been later in life, he had practically worshipped the ground Finduilas walked on.
What about the king and queen? Of course, they had only been married for a few months. Then again, they had known each other for decades. Faramir ran his hand through his hair, wishing not for the first time that he had some example of a married couple to go by. His mind raced as he tried desperately to think of something, anything besides Eowyn, because he didn't want to linger on the one question that had been coming back to him for the past twenty-four hours. What if he and Eowyn didn't truly belong together after all?
Letting out a subdued groan of frustration, Faramir flung open the doors of his study and proceeded to barrel past the guards in the corridor. He ignored the curious stares of the servants and advisors and nobility that he passed. He had to get away from the Citadel, possibly out of Minas Tirith altogether. Faramir wasn't entirely sure of where he was going, but he knew that he needed to think. And he had never been able to think clearly while he was shut up indoors.
From the balcony of her chambers, Eowyn watched as Faramir disappeared into the stables. Only a few moments later, he came back out leading his horse. She jumped a little when, once Faramir was mounted, the stallion reared up. But Faramir seemed to be in just the mood for a challenge, for when the horse came back down, the Steward immediately sent it into a gallop. Eowyn watched as the pair thundered away from the Citadel. When she could no longer see her fiance, she pressed her lips into a thin line, pulled her sword from it's hiding place and left her room, heading for the training grounds.
'''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''One hour later
Faramir had come to rest on a little hill that was nestled outside Minas Tirith. Here, he had removed his horse's trappings and let the animal run loose for a while, grazing.
It was astounding, Faramir reflected, how this small patch of land seemed to have been left untouched by the war. And yet it was so fitting. One of the few memories Faramir had of Finduilas involved this place. He remembered a summer picnic on this hill. According to Boromir, it had been one of many and, more than once, their Father had accompanied them. Boromir had begun to teach him sword-fighting in this spot, as well. It was, of course, against their father's wishes. Faramir had only been five at the time and Boromir only a novice himself. The 'swords' had been no more than sturdy twigs that Boromir had fashioned for his brother. Despite his depressing thoughts about his future, or lack thereof, with Eowyn, Faramir smiled at the memory.
"So you remember that as well?"
The Steward jumped up at the voice, drawing the sword that hung at his side. When he saw who it was, he sighed and returned the sword to its sheath.
"What do you want?" he asked petulantly as he lowered himself back down on the grass.
"My, aren't we in a mood today?"
"Yes. 'We' are. So please, Boromir, go find someone else to haunt."
Boromir frowned.
"I must say, that's a rather closed-minded statement. As I have said before, Faramir, I am not a ghost. Therefore, I do not 'haunt'. Besides, I prefer the term...visit. It sounds much better. And I'm very particular about the people I visit."
"Should I be flattered?" Faramir inquired absently as he picked up a nearby rock and flung it across the meadow. Unfortunately, it landed near the grazing horse who, predictably, was spooked and took off at an immediate gallop. Faramir scowled and let loose with a string of curse words in Dwarvish and Elvish. Boromir arched his eyebrow and sat down next to his brother.
"Want to talk about it?"
"No."
The Boromir of old would've pressed Faramir until, exasperated, the younger brother finally would've given in and spilled everything. But this Boromir had learned a few new tricks and so he abruptly switched course.
"You were thinking about our training sessions out here," he said.
"You can read my mind?" Faramir looked at Boromir incredulously, not at all comfortable with this idea. Boromir, however, merely shrugged.
"Only when you think of me. The dead can hear your thoughts, Faramir. When you think of them, that is. By the way, I don't think I told you this the other night. Thank you for wondering what I thought of Aragorn. We weren't exactly great friends from the moment we met."
Faramir couldn't help but smile.
"I thought as much. You're entirely too stubborn sometimes. Oh, don't bother denying it. Aragorn is, too."
Boromir grinned now.
"Yes, he is. At any rate, I'm glad that you made up your own mind about him."
"Well, it's hard not to like the man who's responsible for saving your life and the life of the woman you..."
Faramir trailed off and turned his gaze back to the horizon. Boromir observed his brother for a moment before deciding to press his advantage.
"The woman you love?" he finished.
"You tricked me," Faramir said in a sullen tone.
"Never could get anything past you," came the sunny reply. "Honestly, Faramir, if you love the woman then why are you sitting out here in the middle of our childhood training grounds, brooding? Go recite poetry to her. Serenade her. Here," Boromir picked a nearby dandelion and tossed it nonchalantly into Faramir's lap. "Give her flowers."
Faramir picked up the dandelion and examined it as he twirled it between two fingers.
"Boromir, this is a weed."
"But it's pretty," the older brother protested. The dandelion was tossed back at him. "Alright then. She doesn't like flowers. I've been meaning to talk to you about this Eomer for some time now, anyway."
"Eowyn, Boromir. Her name is Eowyn. Eomer is her brother."
"Oh. Sorry. Well, how was I supposed to know that?"
"You know everything else. And I have no desire to discuss Eowyn with you. You wouldn't understand."
"I know more about romance than you do, little brother. How many romances have you had in your lifetime?"
Faramir was silent.
"Well?" Boromir prodded, his tone growing impatient.
"this is mnph mmmph..." muttered Faramir.
"I can't hear you," Boromir said in a sing-song tone, cupping his hand around his ear and leaning in closer.
"I said 'This is my first one'! Satisfied?!" exclaimed Faramir, his face red. Whether his face was red with embarrassment or anger, Boromir didn't know. But he was truly sorry for pushing his brother to that point.
"I'm sorry, Faramir. I don't mean to anger you, or to embarrass you in any way. I merely want to point out that I might be of some help."
"Yes, because you've been so much help to me already," Faramir's voice dripped with sarcasm, but Boromir wasn't deterred.
"Women are strange creatures, little brother," Boromir began. Faramir rolled his eyes.
"Is this an example of you being helpful?" he inquired.
Boromir glared at his brother.
"Well I am so sorry. It certainly isn't my fault that you couldn't pick a normal girl to fall in love with."
The eldest son of Denethor got up and began to walk away, but he was stopped by a firm hand on his shoulder. Turning around, he found himself face to face with his younger brother, who was looking at him through narrowed eyes.
"What was that supposed to mean?" Faramir asked, wanting to give Boromir the benefit of the doubt.
"I don't have the slightest idea what you're talking about," Boromir replied.
"You said I couldn't pick a 'normal' girl to fall in love with. What do you mean by that, Boromir?"
Had it not been for the fact that Faramir was beginning to look truly angry, Boromir would've begun jumping around for joy at that very moment. Obviously, his plan was working. As it was, however, he realized that he was treading on dangerous ground. Any joyous outbursts on his part at this moment would definitely be inappropriate.
"What I mean, Faramir, is quite simple," he replied as he gingerly removed Faramir's hand from his shoulder and subtly moved out of arm's reach. Dead or no, he didn't relish the thought of his brother taking a swing at him. "You have always had any number of young women at your beck and call right here in Minas Tirith. Beautiful women of Gondor who respect the traditional role of a wife and know their place. Yet you never showed any interest beyond that of a friend towards them. Then, all of a sudden, here comes Eowyn. She is a Shieldmaiden of Rohan, brother. The country of Rohan is wild, as you well know. And it would appear that Rohan's women are very much the same. Oh, don't bother arguing with me and get that look of righteous indignation off your face. I heard that argument two nights ago. And the argument the next night. And the one today. Really, Faramir, I don't know how you think you can spend the rest of your life arguing with a woman like that. You should marry a nice, sweet, subservient woman of Gondor. They know their place and your life will be much more peaceful."
Throughout this speech, Faramir had run the gamut of emotions from surprise to anger and then fury. Now he was just plain shocked that Boromir could even suggest such a thing. Marry someone else? Marry a woman of Gondor? Setting his jaw, he advanced on his brother. Boromir blanched, wondering if perhaps his plan had worked a little bit too well. But he needn't have feared. If there was one thing that would never change about Faramir, it was the fact that he usually made his feelings known with words rather than with fists.
"Boromir, I don't know where you get your information from, but you best be careful how you talk about Eowyn. She is not 'wild', as you so indelicately put it. Perhaps you do not know this, but it is she who slayed the Witch-King of Angmar. I doubt that any of these 'subservient' women you would have me married off to could've ridden off to war and stood with the other soldiers on Pelennor Fields. It is because of her temperament that I love Eowyn! Have you any idea how boring and tedious my life would be if I were to marry one of those women you were just talking about? She'd only open her mouth to say 'Yes, Faramir' or 'Whatever you wish, Faramir'. I do not want that! That's what makes Eowyn so special! There's a fire in her, Boromir! Have you not seen it? Surely you have. You cannot have missed it! When she laughs, when she moves. Aye, even when she's angry....."
Faramir stopped talking abruptly as he realized what he was saying and Boromir began to smile. Slowly, Faramir lowered himself back down to the ground and his brother soon joined him. They sat in companionable silence until finally, Faramir spoke.
"Am I always destined to behave like a fool?"
"Yes," replied Boromir with conviction. Faramir glowered at him.
"You didn't have to answer so quickly."
"Yes, I did."
Faramir sighed and, picking up another rock, flung it out again into the meadow. There was no longer a horse to be spooked, so Boromir soon joined him in this exercise.
"Do you even remember what the argument was about?" Boromir questioned him.
Faramir opened his mouth to reply only to find, to his surprise, that he did not remember what the argument was about. And so, instead of replying, he began to laugh.
"I'll take that as a no, then."
"I'm sorry, Boromir. I truly don't remember why we argued in the first place. I don't remember what the other two arguments were about, either. I suppose they couldn't have been that important, although I know they all ended up in the same way."
"And what way is that?"
Faramir turned to his brother suddenly.
"If you were there, then why do you ask?"
"Because you should talk about it. Do not question your elders, Faramir. It is very disrespectful."
Faramir gave a snort of laughter and returned to the task of flinging small rocks, but he answered the question.
"She thinks I treat her like a possession. And to be treated like a possession is one thing that Eowyn cannot abide."
"I see. And do you treat her like a possession?"
The Steward thought this over for a moment. He honestly couldn't think of a single occasion when he had treated Eowyn as anything other than a human being. He loved her! Why would he treat her like a possession? Sensing his brother's hesitation, Boromir spoke up.
"Perhaps you did or said something that Eowyn took the wrong way. Or perhaps it is one of our customs that is making her feel like a possession. You know that the royal courts of Gondor and Rohan are similar in many ways, but they differ in many ways as well."
Faramir shook his head.
"If it were something as simple as that, Eowyn would've just come to me and talked to me about it."
Boromir began to laugh at that and Faramir looked perplexed.
"What? What did I say?"
"Faramir, you are one of the most intelligent men I ever knew. I have often longed to be as smart as you are. But, when it comes to women, you are sometimes sadly lacking in knowledge. You know how to win their hearts, apparently, but you aren't quite sure of how their mind works. It is true that it would've been much simpler to just come to you and tell you that she was bothered by something. And, for that very reason, Eowyn did not tell you she was bothered by something."
If Faramir looked perplexed before, he looked extremely confused now.
"I don't understand."
"You never will, Faramir. You never will. But do not worry, for you are in good company. You can join the rest of the male species. Dwarves, Elves, and Men alike. Now, go to her, brother, and find out what is troubling her. She does love you and it is more than obvious that she is in the very heart and soul of everything you do. Make things right with her, Faramir. She's the best thing that ever happened to you."
"Yes, but....Boromir?"
Faramir had turned to his brother, only to find that he was no longer there. Sighing, he pushed himself up off the ground and addressed the empty space in front of him.
"I would really appreciate a warning next time!" he exclaimed. His only answer was a sudden gentle breeze and, slightly mollified, he set off walking towards Minas Tirith.
TBC