DISCLAIMER: All things LOTR belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. I'm just attempting to wax lyrical with them.
Phew! Well, I'm back from Canada, and so here's the update! Many thanks for the reviews of the previous chapter-sorry I kept you waiting so long for this one! I'll finish the final chapter a.s.a.p…
Morithil.
XIII
"You must habit yourself to the dazzle of light and of every moment of your life.
Long have you timidly waded holding a plank by the shore,
Now I will you to be a bold swimmer"
Walt Whitman, Song of Myself.
"Eomer was the same. He never questioned my stubbornness in wanting to captain my army, only saying that he felt sorry for my troops as they had such a hard taskmaster!"
I laughed as my wife recounted how she too had spent her childhood commanding wooden troops and miniature horses. It was evening now, and from the cool air that seeped into our tent from outside and the gradual fading of the light, I knew that it was time to put the horses to rest for the night. Granted, it was still early, but we had a long ride ahead of us in the morning, and I did not want to tire our steeds. The rain had ceased, and the pleasant smell of freshly watered grass could be detected, clean and fresh.
"Eomer was always first to take action in our games as well. Some things never change", Eowyn mused, smiling. I could well imagine the King of Rohan in childhood, eager to get to the battlefield, to do what had to be done.
"Yes, I can believe that. I think he was the first at our wedding to take me aside afterwards and inform me that if I ever made you unhappy I would have to answer to him"
Eowyn gasped, a hand over her mouth.
"He did not tell me he said that!" she blurted, shocked, "he only said that he gave you some helpful advice"
I grinned.
"Helpful advice indeed; I, Faramir of Gondor, must stay on the good side of Eomer of Rohan or face the consequences", I recited.
Eowyn stifled a giggle in her hand.
"How like my brother", she murmured.
"He has good cause to be protective", I replied, wrapping an arm round her shoulders, "and I have a strong desire to make you happy"
Eowyn placed a light kiss on my cheek.
"You already have", she answered, eyes shining.
"Then long may I continue to do so"
We ride for Minas Tirith tomorrow morning, back to the White City and its winding streets, its perilous heights, its breathtaking vantage points on Gondor. After notifying the King and Queen of our return we will return to Ithilien, our home. You could stand at its highest point and imagine that all of Middle Earth spread out before you, and that far-off places were but a few moments away as the swallow flies. How often were the times that I wandered out from the dark corners of the library and stood in awe, a book almost forgotten in one hand, completely absorbed by the scenery before me? Too many to count, I feel. There is a mixture of emotions swirling through me now, peace at having revealed what has long troubled me to Eowyn, who is an angel to me, my saviour, anticipation at returning home and beginning my new duties as Steward, and a warm glow of happiness at facing the rest of my life with the golden-haired woman who lies in the crook of my arm, her pale face against my tunic.
I stretched, still unwilling to leave her, but the horses needed tending to, and she looked so peaceful, floating in and out of sleep that I rose as gently and quietly as possible. As I ducked to leave the tent I heard her whisper my name in her sleep, and I took the chance to watch my wife as she began to fall completely into a blissful slumber. Unable to keep the smile from my face I ventured outside, breathed the fresh, cleansed air and closed my eyes against the cool temperature, a slight shock from the intimate warmth in our tent. Walking to the horses, I began with the undoing of the many buckles that strapped our saddles to their uncomplaining backs. I removed the saddles from Eowyn's horse first, and the admirable animal sniffed almost affectionately at my hand as I lifted the appendage from its body, as if in thanks. I brought the saddle into the protective shelter of the trees and covered it with a small tarpaulin to shield it against any further assault from the elements. I returned to my own horse and began to repeat the task I had just completed. Finally I loosened the buckles, taking slightly longer than I'd expected, as my fingers were slippery on the wet leather. I reached under the saddle with both arms to lift it free, and something made me stop, and look over the back of the steed who stood serenely, unaware of anything unusual.
"Preparing for an early start tomorrow, brother?"
I froze, my feet cleaving to the damp grass beneath them. The saddle hovered above the horse's back, my arms suspending it in mid-air. He leaned his weight on one leg, his hands steady, one at his sword hilt, the other hanging against the blood red tunic covering the chain mail underneath. It seemed that even the crickets stopped their singing, that time halted for a small eternity, the sky around us a dark lavender, a dreamscape.
It has finally happened, then. I have reached a point of sheer madness, and am forging my own illusions in reality. May the Valar help Eowyn, for her husband has taken leave of his senses.
He has not vanished. He looks so real. He looks so alive. I am dreaming, am I not? I pinched my wrist through the material of my tunic. Nothing.
"Boromir" I whispered, suddenly incapable of finding my speaking voice, his name the only word that made sense. His amused grin affirmed my recognition.
"Do not look at me so, brother, your face resembles your expression when I told you there were other things in life besides books"
I could not speak. Instead, I carefully lowered the saddle back down to rest on my horse's back, and patted its neck comfortingly as I walked around it. I stood in front of my brother, heard the slight clink of his sword against the long chain mail he wore, saw the light breeze stir his dark gold locks, felt the love in his eyes.
"Forgive me", I stumbled over the words, "you startled me"
"Forgiven", he waved off casually, a gloved hand in the dimming light. I could not help myself, and reached out to grasp his shoulder in my hand. The heavy softness of his travelling cloak gave way beneath my grip, and I felt the cold mail and the strength of the flesh concealed by it. Tears seeped to my eyes unbidden.
"Brother, I-" I felt weak, clinging to his shoulder with one hand as if my life depended on it.
I heard his soft, almost guttural laugh, and was willingly enveloped in his strong embrace. I sobbed into his shoulder, his gloved hands clapped around my back, my only anchor.
"You are happy now, aren't you, little brother?" his voice hummed in my ears, strong and river-deep.
"Yes", I murmured.
"You have a new life, you are married to a fine woman, and you are released from the past," he continued as I hugged him desperately.
"You are happy," he repeated, almost more of a question than a statement.
I looked up at him, my face warm with tears.
"Deliriously", I answered.
He laughed louder this time, the sound containing some of the booming quality I had remembered. Gripping me by the shoulders, he pushed me out from his arms and looked straight at me, holding me at a small distance.
"That is well"
"And you, brother?" I asked, wiping my face with my sleeve.
He grinned widely, as if to leave me in no doubt as to his welfare.
"Always the worrier, Faramir. Look to yourself more often"
His fisted hand nudged me playfully under my chin and I laughed.
It was when he turned and made towards the waiting horse some paces away that I stopped. He straightened the animal's reins, holding them in one hand, and the mirth died slightly in my throat.
"I won't see you again, will I?"
Boromir looked up, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"You know the answer to that already, Faramir"
I nodded silently, watching as he swung himself up into the saddle with that casual grace that I had always admired. Even if this is but a dream, I found myself thinking, it has come from Boromir, and I shall treasure it always.
"Where are you going?" I asked, stepping forward as if to stop him. As if I could.
He looked over his shoulder at me, a roguish tint to his smile, his eyes bright in the last remnants of visibility. Through my smudged tears I felt myself smile at him, happy even as he made to leave me.
"Home", he said, straightening in the saddle, "as should you, little brother"
With that he turned his steed away, and I watched as he galloped away, across the darkening landscape, his cloak fluttering heavily in the night.
A flutter of canvas interrupted the otherwise silent evening. Eowyn emerged from the entrance of our tent, her golden hair tousled and lovely about her face.
"Faramir? Is everything alright?"
I turned to her, smiling. In the dim light she appeared not to see my tears.
"Yes. I will join you in a moment"
She smiled in reply, fragile and strong at the same time, and disappeared into our tent. I turned back to face the land before me.
I stood motionless for a while, no longer able to see or follow a diminishing figure on horseback riding across the grass. Then I turned back, lifted the saddle clear, and carried it to sit with the other underneath the trees. I refilled the horses' nosebags, and took one last look at where my brother had stood. I could still feel his powerful clasp round my shoulders, the worn leather where his gloved hand had touched my chin. I blinked the more stubborn tears out of my eyes, still smiling, and crept back into the tent where Eowyn lay sleeping, a white hand stretched out over the space next to her where I had lain. I watched her breath the slow breaths of slumber, her pale throat rising and falling with each. Suddenly the memory of Boromir's arms about me in a brotherly embrace came flooding back, and I knew that I was free, for the tears that threatened to flow from my eyes were tears of joy, not unquenchable sorrow. The past has lost its grip, and though there are some things I will never relinquish, I no longer look back on them in pain.
"I am home now, brother"
Tomorrow we would ride for Minas Tirith, and then to Ithilien. We would move on, out of the dark.