Faramir and his company arrived at Osgiliath by midday. Everyone agreed that rest, at the very least a meal, was in order before they entered the city. Though Faramir did not object to a short break, he did not feel easy about it either. There was something on the air that disquieted him, and his eyes were ever glancing up and east as his men took what was left of their food supplies.
"Come on and eat, little brother," Boromir said, approaching Faramir as he stood off a bit from the group, "I know you are hungry. Hold this a moment while I re-lace this tunic? Really, you had nothing up in that cave to fit me properly?" Boromir whined, handing Faramir the split Great Horn as he squirmed like a restless, uncomfortable child.
Faramir held the Horn reverently despite the fact that it was fractured, but ignored his half-brother's moaning. "I was hungry, but I am rather not now. I think we had best get back to the city, now," Faramir said, a feeling of fear growing on him with every minute.
"Why, Faramir? What troubles you?" Boromir asked quietly.
"I can not quite…," Faramir trailed off, straining to hear something on the air. "Get out of here… now! Get back to the city," he suddenly shouted. "Leave everything and ride!"
For a split second, the Rangers just looked at their captain, but then they heard it, too: a low, deep sound as of massive wings beating the air – winged Nazgûl. They simultaneously dropped their meager food and picked up their weapons, running for the horses that were kept at Osgiliath for them when they were sent for. In the next moment, each man was flying across the Pelennor, making for the city gates. Unfortunately, they were not the only ones flying. Nazgûl swooped in low, knocking riders from their mounts. Every man rode harder than he knew possible, each his only thought to reach the safety of the city.
Suddenly, up ahead the Rangers saw a white rider coming toward them from the city. The rider held aloft a long staff from which a bright beam shot, holding at bay the Fell Beasts. For a moment, Faramir took the white rider for the White Wizard and nearly turned back to take his chances with the Nazgûl, but he rode on to the safety of the city, taking advantage of whatever manner of magic it was. Faramir was still braced when the gates were shut, fearing that he would now have to stand against Saruman, and would not that be problematic!
"Mithrandir?" Faramir asked, seeing his dear friend's face as he rode up to him. That smile told him all he needed to know. Embracing his old mentor, Faramir said, "I was told that you fell."
"I did," Gandalf said simply. "I had a little fight with a Balrog, how do you suppose I got all this," indicating his bright white gear. Faramir, you and I must speak, urgently."
Faramir nodded. "Of course, I have much to tell you of as well."
"What I must speak to you of must not be heard by anyone else," Gandalf said meaningfully.
"So the same for what I must tell you of. Let me but return this to my brother," he said, pulling off the baldric from which the Great Horn suspended, "and I shall meet you in my chambers. However, mayhap I no longer have apartments here. I shall meet you in the library then?"
Gandalf looked a little concerned, for Aragorn had told him of Boromir's fall. How Faramir came to have the Horn in his possession and yet intended to return it to his brother, Gandalf did not know. The young man was looking around the crowd of Rangers who were now dismounting and thanking the gods for a near miss. "Faramir…," Gandalf said gently, "about Boromir…."
Faramir had to have looked at the crowd ten times over and his heart began to beat in fear. "Where is Boromir?" he asked Mablung urgently.
"I haven't seen our Lord among any here, Captain," Mablung said with much dread.
"Nor have we," said Anborn riding up with Damrod.
"No…," Faramir whispered, riding back toward the gates, and telling the guard to open them.
"Do not touch those gates unless you wish this city to be taken by the servants of Mordor!" Gandalf shouted to the guards standing there, who looked quite terrified.
"Gandalf, my brother is out there!" Faramir insisted. He was not about to leave him laying there on the Pelennor to be supper for some Black Beast.
"And no one needs you to be 'out there' as well," Gandalf said firmly.
"Open the gates," Faramir said again.
"Do not!" Gandalf shouted again.
"I will not abandon him!" Faramir said, now raising his voice considerably.
Gandalf sighed. "Faramir, I can not just let you go back out there. Your father would never forgive me if I lost you." Gandalf hoped that hearing something of Aragorn would pull Faramir back.
"Then he was alive when last you saw him?" Faramir asked.
"Quite, thanks to your uncles. He should be on his way here by now," Gandalf said.
"Good," Faramir said, "if I can not do so when he gets here, tell him I love him dearly, but since I heard that he was well and Boromir might not be, I did what I had to do." Faramir turned again and lifted the bar on the gates himself. The Nazgûl were driven back well enough and Faramir guessed that he would have just enough time to search. There were only maybe five men downed by the flying Wraiths, though that was five too many and each was a man who Faramir knew and relied on. None, however, was his brother. Faramir's heart was beating to a rhythm of horror as he rode back into the city. How could Boromir have simply disappeared? He was sure his brother had been right behind him as they mounted up and fled. Was it possible that one of the winged beasts snatched him up and took him, thinking that he still bore the Ring?
Gandalf was standing by the gates as Faramir returned, having suggested that the Rangers go on and get food and rest before they were called up again, and he went to hold Faramir as he dismounted, letting the man's tears break into his shoulder.
"How could he just disappear?" Faramir sobbed.
"Come, Faramir, ride with me. No, Shadowfax can bear us," Gandalf said gently. Though he did not say so, he was intensely interested in the fact that Boromir had been with Faramir, and so intensely worried that he was still in possession of the Ring. That was exactly how Boromir could have "just disappeared," so Gandalf thought. "We shall talk in my quarters, there is another waiting there, but he knows as much of our purpose as… well, he knows."
ooo
Aragorn was in agony. His shoulder had hurt a bit before because it had been wounded, but now he woke to a sudden, blinding pain as if he was being stabbed all over again. He was not really aware that he was literally crying out until he heard someone say, "We have always told you not to sleep in, Estel."
"Quiet, 'Ro," someone else said. "I am sorry that I did not have time administer a sedative, Estel."
"Adar…," Aragorn whimpered, reaching out with his arm that did not cause him torture.
"Sidh, Estel. Not quite adar, but we are here," Elrohir said, taking pity on his little brother, holding his hand and stroking his hair. It was too easy for him to remember the many times he'd begged for his father when his brother had to bandage him up in the field. It was a fortunate thing indeed that Elladan had been the twin with a skill for healing, for Elrohir was most assuredly the twin with the skill of incurring injury.
"All right, the worst is past, little brother," Elladan said putting away his surgical knife and cleansing and dressing the wound site. "Now drink this down full. You took a little poison in that wound, so accounting for your strange behavior, but as luck would have it, you are strong enough to fight back."
"What is it?" Aragorn asked suspiciously, tears of agony still brimming in his eyes.
"It is tea, little brother. Have you not been in enough of these scrapes to know this by heart? Lavender, that's for antiseptic; chamomile, that's for a healing rest; and, naturally, burdock, for the poison."
"You are certain it is burdock and not belladonna?" Aragorn asked.
"Would we do that to our baby brother?" Elrohir asked seriously. "Just because we act like fools does not mean we would make such a rookie mistake as that. Just drink. I know burdock doesn't taste wonderful, but the lavender and chamomile will sweeten it."
"Mithrandir told me that we need to get you well enough to get to Dunharrow by tomorrow night. I am going to have a pavilion set up for you and you are going to sleep. We can leave late tomorrow morning I believe," Elladan said. "Until then, I want you to worry about nothing, understand? I am going to be directing traffic around here and aught else is out of our hands anyway."
To Aragorn, it was clear that the twins knew that the fate of the Ring was, to their knowledge, in true jeopardy. After a proper rest and some decent Elven travel food, which did not contain lembas, much to Aragorn's relief, they were able to set out again in the morning. As Aragorn had been resting, Legolas and Gimli made it to the impromptu camp; Merry had decided to go on ahead with Théoden.
Traveling to Dunharrow had not been overly difficult. It turned out that Elladan's infusion had really worked wonders. He gave the credit to Legolas, though, saying that things would have been much graver had Aragorn been allowed to become dehydrated, or, Elladan added in a whisper, if Legolas had not protected him from the King's niece's "stew." Elrohir's guess was that "stew" was Rohirric for "stomach-turning brew."
By the next morning, the Grey Company, comprised of Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Elladan, Elrohir, and Aragorn's Dúnedain, were ready to set out alone the Paths of the Dead. From then on to Gondor, it was going to be a grueling pace. After taking counsel with the twins, sent with Elrond's advice and a token from someone that raised Aragorn's spirits immeasurably, it was decided that they would go to Pelargir in order to, hopefully, intercept a Corsair's ship and sail up the Anduin. With the light of the morning, the Company disappeared into the mountain.
ooo
Aragorn and Boromir seem to balancing each other out. Everyone time seems to get better, the fate of the other is unsure...
Elenhin: An interesting turn, no? What has become of Boromir, indeed? I am remaining tactfully silent for now :)
estelle: Oh, i understand about RL-land. I still spend a good bit of time there, but there are moments when one needs to retreat and hide from all that madness. I am glad you are enjoying the ride and i am not too predictable. As to your question, i really don't know how far this will go. Honestly, it depends on who lives and who... does not. When i am done with this, i will probably work on a few short pieces i've had on back burners and then get working on the third in the Chaos trilogy, The Return of Chaos. You don't have to apologize to me for time between reviews, and definitely not for long reviews!
liz: Yes, you are right. Boromir did have the Ring when Aragorn believed he was dead and sent him down the River Anduin in a funeral boat (more will come about that later). Aragorn sent Frodo and Sam to Ithilien for a few reasons, particularly: 1) because he knew "Halflings" were being looked for, Merry and Pip had already been carted off. Again, more on how Sam and Frodo escaped that will be said later on. 2) Aragorn,Legolas, and Gimli were going togo after Merry and Pip, andan extra couple of Hobbits would only slow them down. 3) Aragornnot thinkthe Ring would end up in Ithilien, but it was the only hope he had left that it would. He was counting on Faramir finding his brotherand getting him out of the River to give him a proper burial, and hopefully he would find the Ring on Boromir's person and return it to Frodo.
Redone: I love the master's work, but i have to admit that it is fun to play around with it a bit. Sometimes, Tolkein didn't torture people enough... heheh.
linda: As i have said, i can't make any promises of who will survive. Honestly, i would like to see some conflict between the "alpha dogs" too, but i don't see it happening in this story. I think that Boromir has a lot of respect for Aragorn and really wants to see the King return. That would come from spending so much time in Dol Amroth. I haven't forgotten the Denethor versus Aragorn conflict, perhaps i could work Boromir vs. Aragorn into that one. Anyway, about Venus (Earendil) being Faramir's key home in Black Breath - she's been shining outside my window every evening as i've been writing the last few weeks, insisting to be written in.