My Precious
By Vendie

Author's note: The usual disclaimers apply. Tolkien owns it all, I'm just writing to calm my over-active imagination.

Also, I do notice that Faramir and Eowyn's son's real name is Elboron. I wrote this before I knew that - but I posted it anyway. Please bear with me! Thanks :)

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"It's a boy!" the nurse exclaims as she wraps the newborn babe in a blanket. My heart leaps as the tiny boy wails, surprised at his new surroundings. The nurse hands him to my sweet wife, Éowyn. Her eyes, though tired, reflect awe and joy as she takes our newborn son in her arms.

"He's perfect." She sighs as she beholds his little face for the first time. I step over and join her at her bedside. Brushing the hair from her glistening forehead, I kiss her brow. Her skin is warm – a sign that her labor has been long and difficult. Despite, my dear Éowyn seems not the least bit slighted.

"I love you," I whisper into her ear. She turns her head and our lips meet briefly. She looks down to the little bundle in her arms and smiles.

As I behold our son for the first time, I feel my heart stop almost completely. I am in awe of him. Strange that something so small has left me so utterly stupefied. He is perfect, from his wisps of golden hair to his tiny toes; he is the most perfect person I have ever laid eyes on.

I believe this is what they call love at first sight. I didn't think it was possible for this kind of emotion to happen twice in one's life. I guess I'm proven wrong.

"Would you like to hold him?" Éowyn asks.

My voice fails me momentarily. Can I hold him? What if I should drop him? Despite my self-doubt, my desire seeps through.

"Yes," I say softly.

Éowyn smiles and places him in my arms.

"Support his head," she advises.

I place his head beneath my elbow. I cannot help but smile as his little eyes flutter open to reveal their deep blue color. He looks at me. What is he thinking, I wonder? Does he know I am his father?

"Hello my little one." I whisper. My son's eyes never leave mine as he makes a small grunt, as if to reply.

Oh, how I long for Boromir to be here to see this! He would be so proud to see his newborn nephew. And my father; surely he would find love for my son where he could find none for me. Tears come to my eyes at the memory of loved ones long lost.

I look down on my son again and the tears spill over my cheeks. How can I ever be a good father to my son? Will I become to him as my father was to me?

No. I could not bear to be so callous to one so sweet and innocent. I lean down and kiss my son's brow.

I will love you whether you lust for the rush of battle or the sound of music; the smell of books or the thrill of the hunt. I silently promise to him.

"I will love you to the end of all things." I say. My thoughts drift again.

Boromir, can you see him? Can you look down on your nephew and feel the same love for him that I do? I wonder.

"Faramir?" Éowyn asks. I look upon my wife, tears still streaming down my cheeks. She has already diagnosed the reason for my tears. Many a night she would whisper comforting words to me when my sorrows for the loss of my brother and father took hold of me. She knew my despair.

"I have been thinking on this for quite some time," she said. A smile crossed her fair face. "I think we should name our son Boromir."

I felt the smile come to my lips. I leaned over and kissed her again.

"I think that is a wonderful name," I reply as I stroke our son's cheek.

"Boromir…"

"Remember this day, little brother."

I'tela – The end