Merry had thought that once they had ridden away he would be better off in his small corner room, ignoring the world and being overlooked, yet again, by the world in turn. Aside from the healers who came and went he thought he should want no visitors, just silence and time to fester in his fears.

But in a day's time he had to admit that being afraid and miserable was a terribly boring way to live.

Still, there wasn't much for it. He couldn't walk very far without feeling tired and light-headed, and there was no one left to visit him. None of his friends remained.

But on the third day after the armies had marched away and left the city in nervous silence, there was a knock on Merry's door, and a face that was almost familiar peered in at him.

Grey eyes, fair hair, sturdy and tall. Like Boromir, but not. The man entered when he saw Merry awake. "Master halfling, are you fit for company?"

Merry sat up. He was grouchy and weak but he'd never turn away someone to talk to. Not after three days of silence. "Fit enough, so long as no feats are expected of me."

The man smiled, and there he was like Boromir as well, but obviously younger and without some of Boromir's cares. He moved in and shut the door behind, and he was shuffling oddly, a hand at his stomach as he came in.

Hurt, Merry realized. A patient as well. And then he knew. "You're Faramir!"

The man nodded, sitting with a sigh on the chair beside Merry's bed that had held Pippin for so long. "And you're Meriadoc, Esquire of Rohan."

"No. Just Merry, accessory of war now retired, it seems."

Faramir smiled. "You wish you could have gone?"

"Of course. Everyone I care for is out there."

"Then perhaps you should find friends here, and through them recover your strength until your old friends return." Faramir's eyes were on him, gentle and searching. "You have one in me already, if you'll have me. I owe you my life."

Merry blushed. "I didn't do anything."

"Yet here I am, recovering instead of buried." Faramir leaned in, resting a hand on the bed. "And even had you not come to my rescue on the field, I would still owe you. Boromir has told me you saved him as well, in a very different way."

Merry felt himself smile slightly despite his determination to stay grieved. "Boromir is stronger than he realizes. I doubt I changed the course of anything."

"I don't doubt it. I have my brother's word that you did." Faramir searched him, his eyes sharp and wise. "Boromir is strong. He has been called for years the greatest man in Gondor, and I wouldn't dispute that for a moment. He is strong also in that he knows where his weaknesses are, and doesn't deceive himself about them. He says he was almost defeated, but for you."

Merry's eyes went distant, thinking of Boromir, of one dark day in a wood before an attack of orcs had changed everything. His few words hadn't been enough to alter the course of any fate, he knew. But that Boromir looked back on it and held it with such importance warmed him. "Whatever I did I did for selfish reasons. It's not right to thank me."

Faramir laughed at that, gently. "Saving someone you care about because you don't want to lose them is the best kind of selfishness."

Merry felt his cheeks pinking again. Outside of Pippin he'd spoken of his feelings for Boromir to no one. Not the Fellowship, not anyone. Faramir was a soldier, and a brother, and Merry didn't think it was possible he would simply understand and let be.

But he also couldn't deny the basic truth of it. "I do care for him. I care for everyone we traveled with."

Faramir's hand moved to Merry's arm, resting for a moment. "Don't fear me, Master Merry. Say only what you want to say, but don't say less than you want because of fear. I know my brother loves you."

Merry looked up instantly, his eyes wide, his mouth open. "You know?"

"Of course. Boromir told me himself how he felt, though I confess to having pried some of it from him. My curiosity, you know. My father used to call it an evil side effect that came from studying with wizards."

Merry looked at the young man in wonder.

Faramir smiled, and his face was nothing but kind. "There is nothing you need hide from me. Perhaps you don't love him in return, though I'm convinced that's not the case. Or perhaps you think I will fall back on the regulations of the stewardship and disapprove?"

"That's the most likely," Merry answered with a faint smile. He had spent perhaps ten minutes with Faramir but he already knew he would grow to adore the man. Sharp he was, but kind and strong. "Boromir fears that as well. The regulations."

"I won't lie and say it isn't a legitimate concern," Faramir answered with a sigh. "But from Boromir, I can't help but think a solution will be found that satisfies everyone."

"And what about you?" Merry studied him with open curiosity. "Are you married?"

"Married? No." Faramir smiled, and then Merry saw in surprise that his cheeks flushed slightly pink. "But you hit close to the reason why I came to visit you."

"Oh?" Merry raised his eyebrows, smiling.

Faramir cleared his throat. "I was told that you rode here on the horse of the Lady Eowyn."

Merry laughed. "I see!"

Faramir chuckled as well, cheeks pink but eyes steady on him. "Well, you can mock me if you like, as long as you follow it with information."

"Mock you? Oh, no! I'm thinking of the best way to talk you up to her." Merry grinned.

Faramir laughed.