Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof
Dear Boromir,
I am fine, thank you for asking. You may not believe this, but I have hardly read a book in months! There is so much more here, so many things to experience. Studying plants in the ground is nothing like studying them cut, dried, or as images on book pages. I can sit for hours just observing. It fascinates me, Boromir. Have you ever tried to map the direction of each leaf of grass in a single burst of wind? There are so many intricacies; there is so much beauty.
However, fear not: while I would willingly lapse into complete lethargy and move nevermore from my observations (and still I would be happy when feeling left every muscle in my body) Theodred has other ideas. Though I am now nearing twenty years of age, more than past my majority and certainly finished growing, Theodred is able to haul me to my feet and down to the stables when he is so inclined. In the past few years we have earned trust enough that King Theoden hardly minded when we disappeared for hours on end.
That's all changed now, though. since the passing of their parents, Theodred's cousins, Eowyn and Eomer, have come to live in Edoras as wards of their uncle. Eowyn is seven and Eomer elven years old, and they are incredible people. Eomer has this unbelievable anger. Sometimes I just want to take him aside and tell him that grief never dies, but life is still beautiful. I want to tell him how much his sister appreciates his devotion and how strongly she looks up to him. Of course I never do. How could he possibly understand without learning for himself? I wish this could be less painful for him. He is such a sweet child and in so much pain.
As for Eowyn, she also masks her pain but far differently. I believe she may portion out her emotions, which is an amazing feat in a mature man, let alone a little girl. If she does not grow up to be the world's most wonderful woman I will spend the remainder of my life in a state of shock.
Eo and Mero have fewer leniencies than Theodred and I and far more lessons. Left to this they would likely deteriorate in spirit, any fool can see that. Theodred and I formulated a plan and appealed to Theoden today. He agreed! Hardly half a breath later, we were cantering across the plains of the Riddermark. Eo all but screamed in glee; she is lucky to be so young. I think we all wished to release the same sentiment.
More than anything, I want to give them a childhood. Do you recall anything before Mama's death? I cannot, and after… Was Father always so cold, Boromir? Have you always been so devoted to the army? I cannot think of a carefree time in my life. Please do not think I am complaining. That made me who I am, and I am not ashamed of myself. It is simply that I do not wish that life on them. No, the Riddermark is not Gondor. The Rohirrim are not stones.
We had a good time on our little holiday. We started playing "Maul Ball", which is an incredibly violent game consisting mostly of tackling the person who tries to carry the ball to a given destination. Obviously, certain variations were made. While Theodred and I came away bruised and mauled completely, Mero suffered only a few bites from Eo, who in turn was only tickled. I almost wonder which of us would have defended her more fiercely!
The best was when Eo and Mero managed to knock Theodred to the ground and sit on him, or so we all decided whilst chewing the hardtack we'd brought for midday. Why we chose hardtack I am uncertain! We ended up tossing it at one another.
We declared teams and started trying to shoot the ball into a goal without using our hands. Eo and I were a team with Lark. The opposite team should have been Theodred, Mero and Cal, but Cal refused to play against Lark. In fact, they mostly spent their time bowling us over. In the end Eo actually managed a goal, which was incredible given how often Cal and Lark knocked her down. Of all the beings in this world, they love her the most.
I wanted her to feel special and happy, which is why I carried her around on my shoulders, running as fast as I possibly could. It is either ironic or appropriate to do this here, I cannot decide which.
The oddest thing about that day was, after all the exhausting fun we had, Eo woke me that night. It was too dark to see, but no one else would grip me so tightly and burrow into my chest, sobbing quietly. I didn't know what to do, Boromir. I was terrified. Any wrong move, just one misspoken word could scar her. I held Eo and stroked her hair as though soothing a horse.
"I want my mama!" she wailed. "I want my da! I wanna go home, I wanna go home, I wanna go home!" Hysterical, she clung to me and bit into my shoulder to keep quiet.
"I know," I promised her. "I know it hurts, sweetling."
"I don't wanna hurt," she murmured.
"No, no one does. I'm sorry, baby, it never stops."
Eowyn just kept crying and crying. I held her until she could breathe again, though tears continued to gush from her eyes. Boromir, knowing she will not always have me… it tears me up inside. I love Eowyn. I love her with all my heart. That is why I must leave. Do you understand? She is too attached to me already. If I do not leave soon, it will break her heart.
And, truth? I want to come home, Boromir. I miss you. I miss Father, as well, and am beginning through distance to understand him.
All and always my love,
Faramir
Before the ink dried Faramir knew he would tear the letter to shreds and throw it on the fire. How could he keep such a document? He could not. If Eowyn were to see it, if his father were to see, there would be only anger and hurt feelings. Leaving such a blatant description of his emotions lying carelessly about would be poor politics and a matter of self-destruction.
But Faramir had to speak. His throat tore, fighting to keep the words down. Desperately, he wished someone would understand. To burden Eowyn and Eomer with such thoughts was, of course, unthinkable, and how could he tax Theodred, who joked horribly to escape the severity of his destiny?
A wet nose pressed against Faramir's cheek. He turned, smiling. "My dear Calisaya. If only you could answer me." She licked his cheek, leaving a tight, adhesive feeling. "Of course. You do!" Faramir whispered. As though comprehending, Calisaya pressed her forepaws against Faramir's chest. Still clutching the letter in one hand, he curled on the ground. The wolf was quick to follow.
"Forgive my taking such an advantage of your courtesy, Sir, but may I speak to you of a personal matter?"
Theoden looked carefully at the young man before him. Daisy. How carefully he must have slipped away from the others, perfected his timing to be alone yet not missed. Though it escaped the others, Theoden saw how deliberately Faramir moved and spoke. Every inch and syllable was weighed. This symptom evoked sorrow and admiration in the king. What a product of a child in his wrong time, Theoden thought, yet how perfectly formed a politician!
"Speak," he invited. It was no order.
This moment the wolves did not flank Faramir. Why does he come alone?
"This matter has troubled me some time." As he spoke, Faramir's eyes were fixed on the floor before him. He knew this was rudeness and was shamed by his actions, but to meet Theoden's eyes would weaken him by emotion. He would cry. He would relent. "Please take no offense, Sir, but I wish to return home to Minas Tirith."
Theoden nodded slowly. He knew now why Faramir was alone. "Daisy, look at me," he ordered.
"Please, Sir"
"Faramir."
The word worked wonders. Faramir raised his eyes to meet Theoden's, and something therein loosed his tongue. "I am too much a part of your life and the life of your family. It seems if I stay, I may never be able to leave. Sir, I love Rohan and I love Eowyn, Eomer and Theodred though they were my brothers, but I am a son of Gondor."
Theoden gave his approval with an unhappy smile and a nod. "Go," he said. "A guard will be arranged to escort you. I ask, however, that you tell them yourself." Who 'they' were needed no explanation. Faramir agreed without hesitation. He was not so callous as to refuse.
"Daisy, Daisy! Awaken, you are needed!"
"What…?" Faramir woke slowly, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Even so his mind slithered towards warmth and a lovely, botanically enriched dream. All those herbs growing together in one garden, Faramir thought he would melt from happiness…
Eowyn's wide blue eyes jerked him back to reality. "Theodred says you must come! He says hasten, there is great need!"
Faramir sat up, forcing action through his grogginess. He shivered as he pushed away the covers, thus losing the heat keeping his body warm. Blinking against the light of Eowyn's lamp, he said, "Lead me, little one."
"Theodred says you must not wake Uncle Theoden," Eowyn added. "Come on!" She turned and fled the room, Faramir close behind with Calisaya and Larkspur at his heels. Hardly seconds passed before they were immersed in the cold night. Faramir was glad he had taken to sleeping fully clothed. Even so he shook slightly at the chill. Had he known they would be out of doors, he would have grabbed his boots.
"Here." Eowyn stopped at the door to the stables, where Theodred stood waiting. "I brought him," she informed her cousin unnecessarily.
"What is it?" Faramir asked. The mystery of events infiltrated his mind, and he desperately wished he knew why he had been dragged from his bed near the middle of the night. Now that he managed to question, he hardly needed to. The sounds coming from the stables were those of furious weeping and destruction.
Theodred jerked his head towards the stables. "Eomer is hysterical, he will not tell us why." Faramir knew already. Knowledge must have shone in his eyes, because Theodred raised his eyebrows. "You do know. Then please, calm him."
With a deep breath, Faramir stepped into the stable.
Eomer was in the tack room. Anarchy lay at his feet, brushes, picks and other aspects of riding tack hurled to the ground with little regard. Within this havoc sat Eomer, tears streaming down his cheeks. He worked furiously, stitching up a burst seam in a saddle so small only one little Rohir could possibly use it. Often he paused angrily to shove tears off his face.
"Is Eowyn taking a trip?" Faramir asked.
Eomer looked up at him, eyes filled with hate. "If you are leaving, we come with you!" he announced. "You are not abandoning us!"
Faramir shook his head. "No, I am not, Eomer. And no, you are not. This is your home. You and Eowyn belong here."
Eomer stood, hurling the saddle to the ground. "Don't tell me where I belong!" He shouted so loudly Faramir all but heard the lining of his throat tear. Tears streamed from his eyes faster than he could wipe them away. Fascinated, Faramir gazed mutely at this intensely furious child. His unbridled passion was awesome and deeply disturbing. "Nothing gives you that right!" Eomer yelled. "Don't you tell me where I belong!"
Faramir knelt and lifted Eowyn's saddle. It was so light. Her youth struck him for the first time, yet it was not Eowyn Faramir thought of. What had this brother of hers sacrificed? What had he held back to keep her world from scattering? What had his own brother sacrificed for Faramir?
Eomer knocked the saddle again to the ground, and again Faramir knelt. This time Eomer kicked him, not with a particularly strong force, but with his boot foot on Faramir's unprotected shoulder the blow hurt as fire hurts ice. The steward's son did not respond, only gazed into Eomer's face, trying to pass on his understanding.
"Aren't you going to strike me back?" Eomer asked.
Faramir shook his head. "No. Never."
"But… but I shouted and ordered you about and I kicked you!"
"Yes. And clearly you know these things were wrong. I forgive you."
Eomer's weeping increased in its fury. "No!" he cried. " I don't want forgiveness! I want you to be angry. I want you to hate me so I can hate you, too!"
Though Eomer shouted, Faramir continued with calmness and gentleness, "That won't take the pain away."
"I want you to hate me!" Eomer repeated.
Faramir shrugged. "I am sorry, but I am not yours to command." He settled Eowyn's saddle where it belonged, then began to gather the brushes.
Eomer watched this, hardly aware of the slow tears still on his face. "Why aren't you angry?" he asked.
"It does not matter what I feel," Faramir replied. "What matters is how you feel. I cannot govern you."
Bitterly, Eomer cut in, "Because you are leaving."
Faramir shook his head. "Because only you can govern yourself," he corrected. "Eomer, you live in this place with an uncle who loves you, a cousin who will always protect you and a sister who greatly admires you. If this is not the place for you, come visit me in Minas Tirith. But first, Eomer, spend a year in Edoras. Adjust to the ebb and flow of life here. Accept your parents' absence, for they are always in your heart."
"I just want the pain to go away."
"I know, baby," Faramir said for the second time in two days. "And it never does." To Eomer's surprise, he did not mind being called 'baby.' From another person he might have protested the name, even lashed out against, but he understood that from Daisy, this was an invitation and an expression of comprehension. Daisy was saying, in that word, that he knew how impossible controlling one's emotions could be in such circumstances. He was inviting Eomer to simply be, not to worry or think.
Eomer knelt beside Faramir. "Let me help," he said, gathering the scattered hoof picks. "I do not understand why you are leaving," he said, trying to ask without emotion. "We need you here. Eowyn needs you here."
"That is why I must leave." Faramir deposited the brushes in the appropriate receptacle and started gathering saddle blankets. "I never meant to live in Rohan, only to stay here a time. I am a Gondorian, and my homemy familyis in Gondor."
Not understanding, Eomer shook his head. Silently, Faramir went on collecting. He had done his part. The rest was for Eomer to work out on his own.
When Faramir stumbled into the darkness, he ached wearily. When Theodred stepped forward to take the sleeping Eomer into his arms, Faramir did not protest. "Is he all right?" Theodred asked.
"He will be," Faramir promised.
They made their way back to their living quarters, all bone tired. Eowyn skipped to keep up with Faramir. "You are leaving us, Daisy?"
"Yes, baby." It was not the answer she had hoped for.
Faramir steeled himself for an outburst. None came. Eowyn only nodded solemnly. "You will write?" she asked.
"You have my word."
Eowyn nodded again. This satisfied her, and she made no protest.