Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or concepts of Middle Earth; they belong to the estate of JRR Tolkien. Tanathel, however, is my creation and I would like to be asked before she is used in any other fic.

Author's note: This story is set in an Alternate Universe of my own making. It is after the War of the Ring and several years into the Fourth Age. Boromir will feature in this story, and if you wish to learn how he survived, you will have to read. This will be mostly movie-verse, since no one knows what happened to Saruman after the Ents trashed Isengard in PJ's world.

A special thank you is in order, to Ithil-valon, for tireless beta-reading and endless encouragement. Thanks so much for being a sounding board, hon, I really appreciate it!

Dedications: To Evendim, who helped me find the courage to seriously write in this fandom, and who has given me great fun with her own AU series. And to my darling AJ, without whom I would never have had the courage to allow my stories to see the light of day. I couldn't have done it without you, ladies, and I love you both for it. Don't ever change.

A/N: Everyone give a round of applause to Ithil-valon for saving my skin and this story. I lost everything off my computer in a MAJOR crash this past weekend, and she thankfully had copies of everything to restore to me. She deserves a big hug and my undying gratitude, and has them.

Eighteen

(Minas Tirith Tunnels)

Tanathel flattened herself against the wall and pulled Aragorn next to her. "Something's wrong. This is where I was to meet Faramir."

"I'm here, Tanathel, but there's a problem " Faramir pulled up sharply when he saw Aragorn and immediately turned his attention that direction. "Welcome home, my lord. Might your Steward ask why in the heavens you are risking yourself like this?"

Aragorn pulled him into a tight hug, then set him back. "These are my people. Where else should I be? Safely behind the lines of battle, where I cannot help them? Never!" He turned matters back quickly. "What is the problem you mentioned?"

"Boromir. Pippin is guarding him a few turns away. We have to help him." Faramir's voice had softened, but the steel never left it. "Once we have taken back the City, we must help him. The wizard still controls him. He is not himself."

"Say that to my face, little brother."

All of them faced Boromir with amazement. Tanathel went for her sword and Faramir grasped her wrist firmly. "Wait," he said simply as Pippin bounced out from behind the man and ran to them.

Boromir came slowly forward to meet them, his blade still sheathed, his hands empty. He had removed the overtunic with its coat of arms and was clad only in the leather armor he had been given. The device had been obliterated from it, as well, burned away. He knelt before Aragorn, head bowed respectfully. "My King, I am ever at your service," he said simply.

Aragorn raised him up as Tanathel relaxed and Faramir gave a sound of relief. "Never, never did I expect to see you alive again, my friend," Aragorn replied as he pulled the man into a tight embrace. "We will do this properly later, Boromir, right now we must regain control of the City."

"No, we should get you out of the City. My brother spoke to me while Saruman was still in control. He knows you are here!"

A roar of noise reached them, growing in volume, and the group flashed into action. Swords were drawn, and Boromir placed himself squarely between the oncoming enemy and Aragorn. Tanathel ranged herself beside him, pushing Faramir firmly behind. "Pippin, get them out!" Boromir roared.

They sprinted out of the tunnels, headed for the safety of the waiting troops, Boromir and Tanathel bringing up the rear. Tanathel had produced her longbow and motioned to Boromir to get behind her and she would cover their escape.

She only managed one shot before Boromir had grabbed her by the hair and yanked her toward him, allowing the Elven archers a clear shot at the approaching Orcs. She lost her footing and landed hard, the breath knocked from her.

She forced herself to her feet, gasping for air, and moved to join the rest of them safely behind the line. Boromir was being welcomed heartily; it seemed most everyone was trying to get a chance to embrace the man, or at least get a close glimpse of him. He was smiling widely, but hadn't strayed far from his brother's side.

There was a commotion at the back of the crowd and Boromir stiffened, then relaxed when he heard the voice. "Let me through, let me through! Boromir!"

Boromir pushed his way toward the Hobbit, his eyes misting over. He'd thought it grand that Pippin had survived; but to know that both of them had lived through the ordeal at Amon Hen overwhelmed him. He knelt down as Merry barreled forward, catching the fast-moving Hobbit in his arms, then gathering the other also in close. Tears ran unashamed down his face. "My little ones," he said softly as he held them close. The crowd had thinned, then dissolved to allow them some privacy.

All three were weeping with joy. Their voices ran together as each sought to be the first to speak, and then laughter broke the tears as they realized what was happening. "There isn't time for much talk, I'm afraid," Boromir said softly as he set them back on their feet. "There is so much to say! It makes my heart sing to know that you both survived. Once this is over, you must tell me everything. Everything!" He ruffled Merry's hair and laid a hand on Pippin's shoulder. "How much you have learned! When we met, neither of you knew anything of soldiery, yet now you both are hardened campaigners, I can see." He laughed softly, his eyes bright. "I must talk to Aragorn now. I'm sure he'll be calling a Council, so you both should ready yourselves."

They nodded and moved back, Merry heading for the Rohirrim and Pippin toward Aragorn's pavilion. Boromir made no move to follow, just yet; there was another he was most impatient to speak with.

He found Faramir in the Steward's pavilion, and the moment gave him pause. Yet he entered quickly, wishing only to have a few moments with his brother.

Faramir fell on him like a small boy greeting his father after months apart, weeping, barely coherent. Boromir felt more tears in his own eyes and just held his brother, reveling in the contact, content to do no more than just feel Faramir so close to him, a feeling he'd thought never to have again. "Hush, Puss, shh, it's all right now," he crooned.

It was as if nothing had changed between them. Boromir had done most of the raising of Faramir, since their mother had died. Denethor discouraged weakness, and found many signs of it in his younger son, leaving him to fare as he might and fawning over the older. Boromir had never stood for it, preferring instead to treasure his brother, teach him, support him, and made no objection to becoming a surrogate father to him. Indeed, there were days when Boromir felt more of a father to Faramir than he should.

Denethor had never hated the boy; he had only chosen to ignore Faramir's existence by and large. Oh, he had done the things he should, had him trained, had him taught; but for the most part, he had ignored his younger son with the single-mindedness of a man who knows the younger is but a spare for the older.

The Heir and the Spare, they had indeed been called for a time. Until Boromir had heard the phrase and put a stop to it, rather spectacularly, as it turned out.

He pushed those thoughts aside as he heard Faramir's sobs begin to fade. "Easy, brother. I'm here." He set Faramir back slightly, so he could look into the face of the man he had become. "So dignified you've become, so serious. Where is my devilish little brother?" he teased.

"Your devilish little brother, you dunce, is all grown up and Steward to the King of Gondor," Faramir laughed back at him. "I have to be dignified and serious. Well, most of the time." He couldn't stop smiling. "Eru, Boromir, I have missed you so!"

"Faramir, I have to talk to Aragorn." How he hated to leave his brother now! "When this is over…"

"When this is over, we'll take time for ourselves, I promise that. You will come to Ithilien with me and see the home Eowyn and I have made. See the children, they'll love that."

Children? His Puss was a father? And more than once, by the sound of things! Eru, there was so much he didn't know! "Of course. We have things we must do beforehand, Fara-mine. I must go to Aragorn, we must prepare." Boromir's eyes hardened. "The tunnels are lost to us, it is true. But I might have a way to sneak a small force into the Citadel nonetheless."