Later that evening Faramir was sitting at the edge of the bed with just a mild ache left in his head. He felt fine enough and was growing restless. Faramir never could stand to lay about all the time. Carach had decided that he was happy enough to roost just outside the window for the night. Faramir sat listening to the sleeping sounds the crow made occasionally and to the sounds of the city as it grew quieter with the night. He found he missed the sounds of the woods at night, and greatly missed the sounds of Imladris at night, when the valley was filled with soft songs mingling with the rushing of the river.
"Might want to get some sleep, Faramir," Boromir muttered, obviously already halfway to sleep himself. Ordinarily Boromir, too, would be growing incredibly restless, but the medicine which dulled the pain also made him quite sleepy, though not nearly as sleepy as that poppy infusion he'd had a while back. If one asked Faramir, however, it was really just because Boromir was growing used to lazing around and having everyone wait upon him.
Before long Boromir's snores were what was most audible in the room and Faramir went to sit in the window, picking up Carach and settling the bird on his lap without waking him. Faramir was looking up to the night sky, his back to the door and his attention focused on the stars which shone so clearly as he stroked his resting feathered friend.
Across the street from the Houses, two riders dismounted, their horses taken in to the stables for them. Beregond was keeping post at the gate before the tunnel that night and recognized one rider immediately. It was hard not to with that long white beard and rather imperious staff.
"Mithrandir!" Beregond said, bowing to the Wizard.
"None of that, Beregond, you know it is not necessary. Tell me, how do you fare? And your young boy?" Gandalf asked.
"We are well, thank you," Beregond replied, only there seemed to be some hesitation in his tone.
Gandalf looked at the guard for a moment, laying a hand on his shoulder. "You have nothing to fear, Beregond. Trust me," he said with a wink. "Now then, where might Faramir be found at this hour?"
Faramir continued to stare upward at the glittering multitude, wishing he'd had an instrument in his hands. There was some music in his heart that he was longing to express, by either flute or harp. Whereas his ada preferred to sing, Faramir was happier with more outward channels of his thoughts and feelings.
"Well! I hadn't thought you would still be here!" said a familiar voice by the door.
Faramir turned to look. "Mithrandir, what are you doing here?" he said with a small smile. The Wizard was always turning up when one least expected.
"I believe I implied that same question but a moment ago," Gandalf replied.
'So he does not wish to say his purpose straight away,' Faramir thought and knew that he could play the same game. "So, you are one of the delegates? What sort of difficulty are you giving my ada that he sends you here to be a pest to us instead?"
Gandalf smirked at Faramir. It was incredibly clear that, regardless of direct blood descent, Faramir was still Elrond's grandson in the way that Aragorn was his son. Elrond had clearly made it a point to pass on his ability to back talk even the Maiar. Gandalf could already see Elrond riposte to Manwë in such a manner as soon as he crossed to the West, clearly the family's entire history involved finagling their superiors, from Melian on down! And so Gandalf decided again to change the subject, noting that Faramir had been looking star-ward before he announced himself. "The Hunter is yet in the sky, along with the Seven Sisters." Now and then Gandalf had a habit of stating the obvious.
"Valier, Queens of the Valar, sisters and wives of divine," Faramir said softly, recalling a line from a song that Glorfindel used to sing all the time.
"I see that my spy has continued to keep an eye on you as well," Gandalf said with that nearly smug smile of his.
"I thought Carach must know you as well."
"Yes… well, we cannot always take everything on faith, can we?"
"I trust that all is well, is it not?" Faramir said, now wanting to get to the point of the matter.
"Of course it is. I would have told you directly otherwise." Gandalf sounded slightly indignant, as if Faramir did not trust him with important information. "I did have someone else along with me, but it seems he's been waylaid. That does not surprise me in this house. What does surprise me, however, is that I find both you and Boromir here. And since what I have come for concerns him as well, it would be most helpful if he would wake up."
The elder Wizard punctuated his words by jabbing his staff into Boromir's back, causing the man to wake with a yelp. "What is the idea of this?" Boromir demanded. "I've got an injured ankle!"
"Aye, and although I am not a healer, as such, when I can avoid it, the last time I noticed the ankle is not located in the middle of the back," Gandalf said gruffly.
"Mithrandir?" a voice out in the hallway called.
"Uncle?" Boromir called back in surprise.
"Bori'?" Imrahil entered the room, more than a little surprised to find his nephew… well, both nephews really, in the Houses of Healing. Embracing Boromir he asked, "what are you doing here, lad?"
"Just what I would like to know," Gandalf said, making himself comfortable and pulling out a pipe, expecting a long explanation. Faramir half glared at the Wizard, pipeweed was not his favorite of scents and if Elrond ever caught such a thing in a healing ward….
"It was all his fault," Boromir said morosely, pointing at Faramir.
"It is not my fault that you are stubborn and determined to be in the lead no matter what," Faramir retorted.
Imrahil was glancing between his two nephews, wondering just what this was all about.
"It's a good thing I am stubborn or you'd be in Dunland by now, with that bloody bird!"
"Dunland?" Imrahil said concerned.
"Nazgûl couldn't fly that fast you fool!" Faramir said exasperated.
"Faramir, my dear little brother here, went off last night to welcome in a host a Dunlendings without armament of any kind and after having told the guard to retire for the night," Boromir said smugly.
Imrahil stared and Gandalf nearly choked on the smoke from his pipe.
"Thank you, Boromir," Faramir said sulkily. "What happened was rather different from my perspective, as they somehow knew it would be. I was set up to believe that daerada was coming here. But I cannot fathom how they knew that I had anything to do with Rivendell, it is not common knowledge in any place, least of all Dunland."
Gandalf was now taking long draws on his pipe and looked to be thinking deeply on that information.
"What happened to you, Faramir?" Imrahil asked, genuinely concerned even if he didn't understand how one could mistake Dunlendings for Elves.
"Nothing really, it was just a bump on the head. I am fine, though I have been confined here all day. I have gotten a thing done, I cannot find anything in the records of coronation rites that can possibly be used, especially since there hasn't been a King for 1000 years."
Imrahil smiled slightly. "That is part of the reason why we are here. And what of you, Bori'? How did you end up here?"
"That is the interesting tale," Faramir piped up. "You see, my brother, who was recuperating quite nicely, decided that he should take it upon himself to lead a highly experienced group of men out to Grey Wood to 'rescue' me, and in doing so, he further injured his ankle, which I would not blame if it refused to ever heal at this point."
"Oh, a man does love to be thanked for his painstaking efforts. Don't forget to tell them how I tweaked it the first time last night. When you were having that bad dream and I thought that something was genuinely wrong and came into your chambers to make sure you weren't being throttled."
"Throttled! You said you came in expecting to find me in bed with…." Faramir abruptly trailed off, pink tingeing his cheeks. "Truce?" Faramir conceded rather rapidly, reaching over to Boromir's bed from his own.
Boromir just grinned. "Perhaps…."
"Well, gentlemen," Gandalf said, finding it time to change to the subject, yet again. "Mayhap we ought to all get some sleep before we get into anything, but just so that you are aware, Aragorn has sent Prince Imrahil and myself here to settle the matter of Stewardship with the two of you. After all, the public cannot be doing with this sort of confusion. And we also bring some input from himself regarding the coronation that every one is so looking forward to."
Sleep was agreed to all around before any further discussion was promulgated.