The first morning that Aragorn awoke at the inn in Pelargir, he went quickly to the innkeeper to see about lodging his soldiers for the remainder of their tour. The previous night he had spent in conversation with Belthil after Faramir left, and he learned that currently the soldiers were taking up quarters with the townsfolk wherever there was space to be had. Belthil said that for the past several weeks he had been quartered with two other soldiers in the home of an elderly widow. Aragorn decided to put a stop to that immediately.
Though the innkeeper was greatly hesitant to agree to lodge all of the troops sent from Minas Tirith, the weighty bag of gold put in front of him saw his tune change rapidly. Aragorn preferred to use his title as little as possible. Once taken care of, the soldiers would be able to patrol in better organized shifts and sleep in better accommodations. Though he was still enraged with their actions thus far, Aragorn preferred that his men be properly housed and not a further burden on the city. He hoped that this move would demonstrate his goodwill to both the people of Pelargir and his own men.
All of that day Aragorn spent with his Rangers gathering information on the goings-on in Pelargir in the last months. Faramir spent the day being guided by Belthil and in conversation with him. At times it was so much like having his brother back that he had to catch himself from calling the young man Boromir. He was still wracking his mind to try to remember that name: Imloth. By now he was certain that he had heard the name, but he simply could not be sure if it was in any connection to his brother.
That night father and son took their supper privately in Faramir's room. They had much to discuss and Faramir would be likely to spend the next day closed in with a quill and ink and parchment taking notes to do reports when they got home. This night, though, Faramir was so distracted by a number of things that he did not register his father speaking to him until Aragorn laid a hand on his arm.
"Father, forgive me," Faramir said, dragging a hand over his eyes. "My mind is not where it should be."
Aragorn smiled thinly. "I can see that. I was wondering where your mind is, though?"
Faramir sighed. "At home. I miss my children. I am even beginning to miss Éowyn shouting at me," he said with a grin. "I wonder if she will talk to me when we return or not."
"We will not be too long here. I miss home, too," Aragorn assured his son. "I can tell there is more to your humor than just homesickness, though."
"There is." Faramir took a breath and relaxed, knowing that if he could tell anyone what had been on his mind, he could tell his father. "I have been thinking so much of Boromir lately; even on our journey here while i was still preoccupied with thinking of Éowyn's refusal to see me before we left, i began to think the better match would have been her and my brother. They would have been perfect for each other, and in that i could not help but to feel that i was again second best. I never envied Boromir, though. And now to meet this young Belthil.... Father, i swear i know the name of his mother, but i just can not find it in my memory how i know it. They just look too much alike to be a coincidence. Do you not think i am correct?"
Aragorn nodded. "I think that last night when i sat up talking to him i very nearly called him Boromir a number of times. He is very much like to how your brother was. Might i advise you to stop trying to remember it though? Let your mind rest some, please ion-nín. It will come to you in time if you keep your mind open. You did bring that book from old Bilbo, why not take some rest tonight and read for a while? It will do you good."
"Perhaps i should," Faramir said with a sigh. "I wish i'd had a chance to finish Narn I Hîn Húrin before we left, but that was the night Éowyn was angry at me for not inviting her brother along. I just wish we could get along for more than a few minutes at a time. I dearly hope that things will be different when we move to Emyn Arnen."
Aragorn laughed despite Faramir's seriousness. "You say that perhaps Éowyn and Boromir would have been the better match, but i disagree. As it is, at least one of you is willing to compromise. Boromir might well have matched her headstrongness, but think of the disaster that could have ended up."
Faramir too had to laugh at the thought. "I believe you are right, adar. I know i love her greatly, and i have said as much that i would die for her and the children. It's just that i do not think she... understands me," he said, choosing carefully his phrasing.
"That will develop in time as well," Aragorn said comfortingly. "You are two very different people, but nothing happens without a reason. Do not despair, for all people change with time and it is yet possible that change will bring the two of you closer."
"I wish i could be like you, father," said Faramir wearily. "I wish i could always know just what to say or do. I wish Éowyn and i could be like you and Arwen are."
Aragorn shook his head though, his grey eyes filled with sincerity. "I love you for who are you, my son. Don't ever forget that." Aragorn noticed the sleepiness in his son's eyes under the smile of thankfulness Faramir wore. Rising, Aragorn rested a hand Faramir's shoulder in encouragement. "Take some rest, Faramir. We can talk come morning."
Faramir nodded, and for once, accepted rest over work. That night Faramir's sleep was visited by a dream of one certain night spent with his brother in the Merry Widow tavern.
Almost immediately upon being seated women had seemed to come out of the woodwork to fawn over Boromir. The elder brother had his arms full at all times, hardly getting a chance to get near his ale. Faramir was young, only just a man at the beginning of his 18th year. Boromir was 23, and a favorite of the "ladies" who staffed the tavern. It was that night that Boromir saw fit to fix up his little brother with one of his female companions. It was the most humiliating experience of Faramir's life and he made quite sure to tell off his brother about having a little more respect for women.
When Faramir woke the next morning, he groaned at having dreamed of that terrible encounter, but couldn't shake the thought of it. There was something about that dream, something that he remembered from that night. Faramir thought of being shoved into the unoccupied room by his brother and his chosen woman and trying to back out of his situation as tactfully as possible, all the while having to hear the impassioned sounds from the next room.
That was when it hit him. The woman Boromir was with that night... her name was Imloth. And that night was 19 years ago. It all made sense, he was entirely sure now. Belthil was Boromir's son. Faramir had to sit down for a moment as he realized that his brother's son lived and was here in this city. Faramir was quiet for a long while and deep in thought.
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AM: The plot quickens, indeed.
Seems i had another chapter ready to flow out tonight. So, lucky readers, you get two for the price of one today! I may in fact have another one out tomorrow, the way i am feeling, though the weekend is promising to be a bit busy.
Where have all my reviewers disappeared off to of late?