Author's Note: If sibcest squicks you, I suggest that you turn back now (or not read past the first chapter of the story). This is a collaboration between me and a friend, Jenn. I wrote for Faramir while she wrote for Boromir. Reviews are absolutely loved and welcomed (while flames will be happily used to make smores). Feel free to send Jenn a comment at jholsh1@towson.edu.

This story takes place when Faramir is 15, thus, with the five year age difference, Boromir is 20.

I absolutely promise that there will be more chapters to come as we are both completely in love with this story. So please keep reading!

~*~*~*~*~*~

The first rosy fingertips of the dawn were poking up above the horizon when Boromir saw the white battlements of Minas Tirith looming before him. Urging his steed onwards, he traversed the dew-covered Pelennor and rode up to the gigantic ironbound gate which opened up wide to allow him entrance. He looked around, smiling broadly to be back home, and immediately his thoughts turned to Faramir, who was undoubtedly fast asleep in the upper levels of the city. After retiring his horse to the small stables, Boromir ascended through the tiers of the white stone city until he finally reached his brother's bedchambers. He had not slept nor eaten for many hours, and was weary, but he still had to see his brother before any comfort could be given to him. Quietly, so as to not rouse Faramir, Boromir poked his head inside and let a small slit of the growing sunlight to pour through the door. Inside he could see Faramir curled up tightly under the pelts covering his mattress, and he smiled to see the contented, innocent image of his brother as he slept. Quickly and silently, he shut the door and promptly retired to his own chamber before he encountered the steward who would surely waylay him further from getting his much needed rest.

Faramir opened his eyes slowly, his sensitive ears catching the creak of the heavy wooden doors as Boromir left. Still halfway asleep, he barely registered his brother's presence before he slipped out of the room again. A contented smile slowly dawned on his face as he slowly woke. It took him only a few minutes to shake the remnants of sleep from his head, and he leapt out of his bed immediately after, throwing off his dressing gown and pulling on one of Boromir's old tunics over his spindly frame.

Without bothering to slip into his boots, he sprinted out of his room and down the stone corridor, excitement blinding him as he raced towards his brother's chamber. "Boromir!" he shouted, flinging the door to his room open without even an attempt at a knock. His eyes scanned the room eagerly, looking for the older man.

Boromir jumped, startled to hear Faramir's voice piercing the still air that filled his chamber. "Faramir?" he said tentatively as he strode over to the opened door, stripped down to his brown leggings and weatherstained ivory tunic. He smiled and laughed, "Faramir, you should be asleep!"

"I saw you leaving my room, and it woke me up instantly!" He looked Boromir up and down eagerly, taking in every detail of his deeply missed brother. "You look terrible!" he said amiably.

Boromir narrowed his eyes at Faramir, causing his little brother to avert his eyes apologetically. Suddenly he grabbed Faramir and lifted him up in the air, spinning him around as he backed into his room. "Terrible did you say?" he growled jocularly. He tossed Faramir onto the neatly made bed that lay in the corner against the grey stone wall and tackled him, tickling Faramir in the ribs which jutted out sharply. "Hmm?! What'd you say I was?" he laughed.

Faramir curled himself into a small ball and batted at Boromir's large hands. "Stop!" he gasped, laughing so hard that he could barely breathe. "Stop!" he pleaded again as tears began to stream down his cheeks.

Boromir eased off of his attack on Faramir and ran a hand through his tousled reddish hair. "All right, all right," he chuckled. He swept his eyes over the bony frame that Faramir had, and he was startled by the thinness of his brother's limbs. Boromir jabbed at Faramir's ribs one last time in a concealed effort to find out whether he could feel the bones of Faramir's ribcage abnormally sticking out, which they were. Worry clouded Boromir's face, but he forced a smile and said "Miss me, my little rosebud?" He'd always called Faramir his little rosebud, because his little brother's cheeks were always rosy, just like their mother's had been.

"Miss you? How could anyone miss a lout like you?" he bluffed, grinning up at his big brother who he adored more than anything else in Arda. "I rather enjoyed you being gone. There was no one to steal food from my plate or hide my bow and arrow just before my archery lesson!"

Boromir looked back at Faramir somberly and got up, turning his back to the small figure that lay on his bed. "Fine then. Go away if you despise me so," he said evenly, his voice playfully tremulous with false emotion. Inwardly he wondered who it actually was who could have been stealing food from Faramir, since he was so skinny and gangly compared to the way he was a year ago. Boromir decided to concern himself with the matter later on, when he wasn't so tired and in need of rest. "Just go if you cannot tolerate my presence!" he joked, still not facing Faramir as he crossed his arms over his muscled chest.

"Fine!" Faramir replied haughtily, "If you want me to go, I will." He climbed up from the bed, pretending to leave, but at the last moment flung himself at Boromir. He wrapped his arms tightly around him, embracing him from behind, and nuzzled his muscled back with his cheek. "I missed you more than you can ever imagine," he said quietly, his voice replete with affection.

Boromir grinned widely and turned around without making Faramir remove his arms from where they encircled his waist. "I missed you just as much, Faramir," he said as he affectionately ruffled Faramir's riotously wavy hair with his broad hand. He stifled a yawn with his other hand and said "Oh, but I am weary. Can I go to sleep, my liege?" he queried, smiling as he looked down at Faramir's head where it rested against his muscular abdomen.

"I suppose I can allow it; you look as though you are about to fall asleep standing right where you are," he said disdainfully, adopting the most arrogant voice that he could. He removed his arms from around Boromir so that his brother could finally lay down and take some rest. "Is there anything you require before I leave you to your peace?"

"Not really, no, just some silence would be most welcome," Boromir said airily and absently as he approached his bed, falling forward into the soft mattress covered in wool blankets. He snored loudly in jest and opened one eye to look at Faramir who stood by the bedside, pouting. "Dismissed! That is, unless you are tired, too, and can not bring yourself to leave my glorious presence and will just have to steal my bed." His voice was jaunty and light, and he grinned again when he saw Faramir's face light up with glee.

"I am feeling rather fatigued seeing as how I was awakened before dawn by an inconsiderate captain." Faramir couldn't help but smile, though, as he joined Boromir in his bed, pressing himself against his brother until their bodies were flush with each other.

Boromir sighed dramatically as he nestled against Faramir. "Sorry about that, I had to see you before I went to bed," he whispered huskily. He poked the small of Faramir's back one last time before shutting his eyes and drifting off to sleep to the rhythmic sound of Faramir's steady breathing.

Faramir stayed awake for a while longer, watching his brother's broad chest rise and fall in its steadfast cadence. He brushed a stray lock of sandy hair from his brother's face and gazed down at his masculine features fondly. Dropping a light kiss onto Boromir's regal nose, he rested his head on his brother's chest, soon lulled into a soft slumber by the steady beating of his brother's heart.

***

The sun was beginning its descent back to the horizon before Boromir awoke, the yellow light pouring in through the tall slits in the granite walls falling on his pillow-marked face. Gingerly, he pulled his left arm from underneath Faramir's sleeping figure and stretched like a cat, cracking the bones in his spine as he did so. A cavernous yawn marred his features for a moment before got up and rummaged through a cedar wood chest, withdrawing a fresh tunic and pair of leggings. Casting a final glance over to where Faramir slept, he slipped into the inner recesses of his chambers where a bath lay drawn for him. On a wooden stool next to the basin were several bottles of scented soaps and oils sat. Boromir quickly disrobed and settled into the lukewarm bath, leaning back against the wall of the tub as he let the grime and dirt that had accrued during his journey home fall away.

Boromir soaped up and dipped his head into the water, washing away the dirt from his strewn hair. Feeling sufficiently clean, he stood up and carefully dried off before slipping into his clean garments. Returning to his bedchamber where Faramir still slept soundly, Boromir pulled on his worn- out leather boots and made for the door. Before leaving he glanced back to where his brother lay and smiled. "I'm glad I'm back," he said to himself quietly. Turning, he departed and tromped up to the hall of stewards where Denethor awaited him.

***

Faramir woke not a quarter of an hour later. He looked around the chamber in confusion, missing Boromir's warmth against him. He rubbed at his eyes and stretched in much the same way his brother had done. He climbed out of the bed and stumbled around the room sleepily before realizing that Boromir's favorite pair of boots was gone, as were the clothes that had been laid out for him.

Still rubbing at his eyes, he shuffled out of the room drowsily. Figuring that Boromir had gone to report to his father after his much-needed rest, Faramir made his way to the throne room, completely unmindful of his sloppy state of dress, tousled hair, and bare feet.

***

Boromir emerged from the throne room in an exasperated state of mind; it was not his idea of a good time to report every bit of minutiae to his father after a venture to the outlying realms of Gondor that spanned twelve months. He flung open the heavy doors and stepped out into the broad daylight only to see Faramir's bedraggled figure climbing the steps to the entrance. Boromir nearly collided with him but grabbed Faramir's thin upper arms to steady himself. "Faramir, you're awake!" he said as a smile brightened his rugged features.

"I woke up and you weren't there. Naturally I hoped that you had finally decided to leave the city forever, but I decided to check here just in case." Faramir peeked around Boromir and through the partially opened doors. "Was father happy to see that you've returned?"

Boromir ignored the query about their father and looked Faramir up and down quizzically with an amused glint in his eyes. "Faramir, are you aware that your tunic is on backwards, or have I been gone too long that I have missed this new mode of dress?"

Blinking in confusion, Faramir looked down at his clothes, realizing that he had, in fact, put the tunic on backwards in his haste to see his brother. His cheeks flushed slightly in embarrassment and he quickly righted the tunic, giving Boromir a brief glance at his protruding ribs. "I was in such a hurry to see if you were really back that I paied no attention to my clothes." He looked down at his feet and then wiggled his toes. "And apparently I paid no attention to my footwear as well."

Boromir smiled warmly and slung his arm protectively around Faramir's bony shoulders as they walked back in the direction of their quarters. "Oh, I always knew you were that delighted to see me, Faramir," he said. Once they were out of earshot of the guards, Boromir hesitantly asked, "Faramir, how have you been during my absence?"

"I've been fine, brother." Faramir gave Boromir a sunny smile, "I've missed you, but that was to be expected, was it not?"

Boromir tried to force a smile but could not; he was too filled with concern over the emaciated figure that Faramir had. "Yes, I suppose that would be expected because I am the greatest brother one could ask for, but, you seem er... different," he finished lamely. He knitted his brow worriedly and ran a hand over Faramir's side, feeling each rib through the scratchy material of the tunic hanging off of Faramir's body.

Faramir pulled away from Boromir's touch and wrapped his arms around his small body to prevent any further exploration. "Different?" He forced a chuckle, "I promise that I am the same Faramir you left here a year ago."

Boromir was taken aback by the bristling reaction Faramir showed. "I meant no offense, Faramir," he replied sharply, "I am merely alarmed because you look about half the size you did compared to the way you were when I left those months ago. If something was awry I would have you tell me."

"There is nothing awry!" he said, the words tumbling out of his mouth faster than he had intended. "I am the same size as when you left a year ago. Maybe a bit taller, but that is all!" His eyes flashed with defensive anger before softening again to their normal pale blue. "Let's not fight. At least not until you've been home for a week or more. I've missed you too much to argue."

Boromir pushed back the urge to voice his full opinion on the obvious fact that Faramir was not being entirely forthright with him. "Very well," he said evenly. "Go and properly dress yourself, silly, and we can spend the afternoon making up for lost time," he added warmly, forgetting about the niggling concerns in the back of his head for the moment. He smacked Faramir's behind, sending his brother trotting ahead in earnest.

***

Once Faramir had dressed himself properly, he hurried to meet his brother. He found Boromir in a small garden tucked away in a clandestine corner of the sixth level of the city, running his fingers over the petals of white orchids thoughtfully. The small garden had been theirs ever since they were old enough to take care of it; Faramir mostly saw to its upkeep, going there several times a day when Boromir was away on his long journeys. There was always an abundance of orchids, their mother's favorite flower.

Smiling to himself, Faramir crept up behind Boromir silently and covered the blue eyes identical to his own with his thin hands. "Guess who?" he whispered into his brother's ear.

"Oh no, I've been blinded!" Boromir cried playfully as he whirled around and pinned Faramir on the green sward carpeting the garden. "Glad you finally got here. You're slower than an ox sometimes," he joked as he tickled Faramir's stomach, sending the smaller man into a fit of squirms and giggles.

"Not again!" he cried, laughing and writhing on the ground beneath Boromir. He slithered out from under his brother and scooted across the ground until he was a considerable distance away. "That's not fair!" he protested, eyes dancing with mirth, "You're bigger than me! You have an unfair advantage!"

Boromir sat up and dusted himself off. "Sorry, I couldn't help it. I have a whole year of tickles to make up for." He plucked an orchid that hung from the trellis on his right side and tossed the flower at Faramir. "The garden is beautiful, I'm so glad that you've been mindful of it."

"What else do I have to do while you're away?" Faramir sniffed the pearly flower, closing his eyes and allowing the sweet fragrance to permeate his senses. He sat in reverie for a moment before opening his eyes again to find Boromir smiling at him fondly. "I couldn't have you come home and see our garden in disrepair."

Boromir let himself fall backwards to sprawl on the lawn of grass, the blades of which pricked onto the skin on the back of his neck. He let the sun warm him and he suddenly felt the urge to sleep come over him again under the yellow light of afternoon. Within moments he was dozing lightly, but was still aware enough of his surroundings that he could hear the rustle and shuffling of papers next to him where Faramir sat among the herbs and flowers. He opened one eye just a crack and saw Faramir bent over a piece of parchment, writing furiously as his tongue was stuck thoughtfully out of the corner of his mouth. Boromir's curiosity was piqued, but he pretended to be asleep while Faramir continued to scrawl something onto the leaves of parchment.

As he scribbled quickly on the parchment, Faramir snuck furtive looks at his brother. Prose quickly flowed from his quill, comparing his brother to the beautiful garden they found themselves in. He balled up leaf after leaf of parchment until he finally drafted a poem that he was satisfied with. Holding it up to eye level, he read through it, a small smile gracing his face. "Yes, I think that will do," he whispered to himself.

Boromir was shrewd enough to know that he shouldn't interrupt Faramir while he was concentrating, even though he now had the burning desire to snatch one of the discarded bits of parchment and see what was written there. Stretching out his arms and legs and groaning loudly, he sat up abruptly, saying "Dozed off for a bit, sorry." He let his eyes wander over the sheet that Faramir held up. "What've you got there?" he asked, pointing at the freshly inked poem Faramir held in his slender fingers.

Faramir hastily shoved the piece of paper behind him. "It's nothing," he said quickly, though a fine flush was slowly starting to spread across his cheeks and over the bridge of his nose.

"Didn't look like nothing to me," Boromir said dubiously. "But suit yourself." He ran a hand through the blades of grass between the area where he and Faramir were lounging. "Are you hungry?" he ventured to ask.

He placed a small rock on his papers to keep them from being scattered in the wind, and laid back in the soft grass. "Not terribly. I'm just enjoying being outside with you." He turned his head to the side and gave Boromir a grin, "Unless you tire of my company already."

Boromir looked over Faramir's slender frame as he stretched out on the blanket of green, scrutinizing his brother. "Tire of you? No, never, rosebud. But I, for one, am absolutely *famished*." He absentmindedly plucked several blades of grass from the ground and knotted them in his fingers. "Will you at least come with me while I raid the buttery?"

"If you insist." Faramir grabbed a handful of grass and deposited the blades into Boromir's hair before jumping off of the ground and sprinting away quickly.

Boromir shook his head, scattering the grass to and fro, littering the sheets of parchment that remained on the ground securely in place underneath the stone. He lagged back and contemplated picking up the leaf of parchment Faramir had just inked. "Better not," he thought, and instead he scooped up several of the discarded ball-up sheets and discreetly stuffed them in his pocket before trotting after Faramir as they meandered their way to the storehouses.

Boromir caught up to Faramir and quickly passed him as he dashed down to the fourth level of the city. "Catch me if you can!" he cried before darting behind a curving stone wall. When Faramir didn't appear with a grin on his face and another fistful of grass in his hand, Boromir peeked out from behind the wall and saw his brother stopped in the street as three boys his age circled him.

"Let me by," Faramir mumbled, trying to brush past the group of boys. He didn't get far, however, before one of the burlier lackeys shoved him backward. "Please," he said quietly, his eyes never leaving the ground, "Not today."

"The little princess wants us to let him by!" the apparent ringleader laughed, shoving at Faramir's bony shoulder. "Should we let him? He might have an important ball to go to!"

"I do hope he has his dress ready!" another teased, mocking a curtsey.

"He's so scrawny that he couldn't even fit into a dress of my little sister's!" said the first. Faramir wrapped his thin arms around his weedy body self-consciously. As the name calling and jeering continued, he felt his eyes slowly well up with tears, though he knew well enough not to let them shed while the bullies were still there.

Eyes narrowed lividly, Boromir came out from behind the wall and strode purposefully over to where the group of boys were taunting Faramir, grabbing one by the shoulders in each hand and putting himself between them and his brother. "What's going on here?" he asked fiercely, jaw clenched. "Well? Speak up, or I'll wring it out of you!" he cried as he effectively shielded Faramir from the boys' sight.

Deciding it wasn't worth crossing the son of the Steward, they simply sneered at Boromir and left.

Faramir quickly wiped away his tears before Boromir could turn to look at him and see the moisture in his eyes. "Sorry for the delay, brother!" he said cheerfully.

"Faramir, what was that all about?" Boromir asked, his voice still harsh and marked with concern. "If they are bothering you then I would have you tell me." He grimaced and balled his hand into a fist, smacking it against the palm of his other hand. "I'd make sure they leave you alone...." he added ominously.

He forced a chuckle and lowered his brother's threatening hands gently. "There was an archery contest not a few days ago," he lied smoothly, "And I won. They fancied themselves the best young archers in Minas Tirith, so it took them quite by surprise."

Boromir looked askance down his nose at Faramir and reluctantly let his anger subside. "Jealous little fools," he muttered, easing the tension that still hung in the air. "No one's a better archer than Faramir of Gondor... not even Boromir." He grinned and took his brother by the hand, leading them down to the buttery that remained only a few paces ahead.

***

Boromir tried tactfully to get Faramir to eat, but his brother always met his efforts with a well-placed excuse or remark that strayed their conversation off topic. It wasn't until Boromir had downed four mugs of mead, a loaf of bread, and several wrinkled but still crisp apples that they got up to leave. Stepping out into the cool air, they saw that the sun had just begun to dip under the horizon and that some of the brighter stars were twinkling in the darkling canopy of sky. Boromir clapped Faramir's back as he breathed in the night air deeply, filling his lungs. "Ah Faramir, I can't say how glad I am to be spending my days with you again."

"I am happier than you can even begin to fathom." Faramir gave Boromir a quick hug, breathing in his distinctive scent: the smell of the woods, and the fresh water of the river Anduin. It was a scent that Faramir could always recall, no matter how long Boromir had been away. After releasing his brother, he scrambled up onto a nearby white wall and stared up into the twilight sky. "I especially missed watching the way you eat! You know, as though father was going to outlaw food sometime in the near future."

"You never know with him, he just might do that," Boromir chuckled, following Faramir nimbly up the wall and plopping down next to him. "And if he did, then I would run away forever to where there are no mad stewards, and I would take you with me." Scooting up right against Faramir, he nudged him with his elbow and turned his gaze upwards to the constellations peppering the heavens. He withdrew a smooth long-stemmed pipe and lit the pipeweed scrunched up in the bowl with a flick of tinder on flint that he always kept near to him. "Such a beautiful evening," he murmured, glancing sidelong at Faramir as he studied his brother's slightly gaunt but still dazzlingly handsome face.

"The stars are singing to the White City because of your return," he said softly, eyes still turned to the sky. "They are as happy as I am that you are here again."

"Do you really think so?" Boromir said soberly in a low voice. He continued to observe his brother's features, paying particular attention to the glimmer in Faramir's blue-green eyes as they shined under the failing light of the sun.

Faramir turned and looked at Boromir in surprise. "Forgive me, I was not aware that I had spoken aloud." The customary flush reddened his cheeks, though it was hard to see in the failing light of the evening. Without realizing what he was doing, he slid away from Boromir, his brother's rich voice sending tingles up his spine. What is this? he thought to himself.

Boromir raised one eyebrow at his brother's strange reaction and moved back next to him. "No, that was beautiful, Faramir," he soothed. "Beautiful just like you are, and like mother was. It reminded me of the songs she would sing to us when we were smaller but.... well, I suppose you don't remember her very well..."

"You should not compare me to mother...I am nowhere near as beautiful as she was." Faramir hopped off of the wall backed and several paces away from it, putting more distance between the two of them. "But you're right, I don't remember her very well. Though I do remember the song she would always sing." He closed his eyes and started singing the sweet melody, the notes floating from his tongue like the gentle breeze that swept through the city.

Boromir was hurt by the abrasive tone that Faramir's voice had taken when he chided Boromir for comparing him to their mother. "My apologies," he said quietly, remaining on the wall, kicking his heels against the white blocks of stone while puffing his smoke pensively. He would have smiled to hear the music flowing from Faramir's mouth but for the strange sadness that was settling over his heart as he saw more and more of the way Faramir had changed, how he had become so despairing and chillingly somber. //"Perhaps I should leave him be for the night,"// he thought.

He finished the song and opened his eyes, waiting for the approving smile that he was certain would be on Boromir's face. The small smile he had garnered throughout the song fell immediately as he saw his brother's downcast countenance. "Boromir...Have I done something to offend you?"

Boromir flicked his eyes up for a second before returning to staring at the ground below him. "No, no, it's nothing. Just thinking," he said as he waved a hand dismissively.

"About what?" he asked, tilting his head much in the way a curious puppy would.

Boromir smiled weakly. "You. And our mother." He felt very close and tight- lipped now, and slid off the wall, walking past Faramir as he made his way to his chambers.

Faramir stood where he was, rooted to the ground momentarily. He had never received such a cold brush off from his brother before. "Boromir!" he called out to him, finding his voice again. He jogged to catch up with his brother, tailing him doggedly. "I'm sorry! Please, tell me what I've done!"

"Do not trouble yourself with my moods, Faramir," Boromir said more sternly that he meant to. He paused mid-step and gave Faramir a searching look and ruffled his brother's curly hair affectionately. "I just need some time to think in peace, if you don't mind."

Faramir stopped abruptly as though he had been physically shoved backwards by one of the bullies he had encountered earlier. "If that is what you want," he said evenly, though he felt himself physically wilt on the inside.

He watched his brother disappear down the corridor without looking back at him once. He was alone again, though somehow it felt even worse than when Boromir had been leagues away.

***

Sequestering himself within the safe confines of his quarters, Boromir let out a loud sigh and he ran his hands through his hair in frustration. Faramir's unmistakable changes were seriously bothering him now, particularly after all the evasive replies Faramir had given about his spindly frame, the crowd of taunting boys, and the secret scribbling on those bits of parchment.... the parchment! Immediately Boromir withdrew the balled-up papers where they had been forgotten in his pocket and sat down on his bed. He unfurled one and his eyes slowly widened as he read the delicately crafted prose written there. Eager for more, he uncrumpled the other sheets and soon his confused look was replaced with one of mirth and contentment. He was grinning broadly to himself with every passing line of poetry. Suddenly, Boromir sensed someone approaching and he hastily stashed the parchments underneath his pillow, not noticing the one that had floated down onto the floor next to the bedside.

Faramir paused just outside of Boromir's room, staring at the heavy oak door sadly. He was en route to his own chamber, but was distracted as soon as he drew close to his brother's room. He simply looked at the door for a few long moments as though he were nothing more than a forlorn puppy. Shaking his head and reminding himself that Boromir had instructed him to simply leave him be, Faramir resumed his solemn walk back to his room.