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Riders and Stewards	By : Orial Category: -Multi-Age > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2002 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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Disclaimer: I own nothing!

Chapter Four: Mourning a Son in Gondor

Faramir rode through the streets sadly, holding a broken horn in his arms. The entire city was a buzz with news of Faramir�s early return, but Faramir was silent, looking into his arms at the Horn of Gondor; the most treasured item of his brother�s. Boromir was dead. It had to be true, there would be no other reason why the horn would have not been with it�s owner. Faramir�s heart broke at the thought of being alone in Gondor for the rest of his life. He looked up as he neared the upper levels and thought back to his childhood with Boromir.
* �Boromir!� Faramir looked around with a pout as his older brother hid somewhere in the horse stables. The game was hide and seek and because of Minas Tirith�s size, the hiding was restricted to the top level, outside. As the game continued Faramir easily found Boromir, hiding behind one of the horses, snickering loudly.
�I found you! I found you!� Faramir laughed and ran to the other side of the horse to see Boromir standing there. The horse nickered and shook it�s head as Boromir laughed.
�You cheat, I know you do!� Boromir wasn�t accusing, only joking with his younger brother and pulled him into a big bear hug.
�I�ll always be here for you. You know that, right, Faramir?�*
�Faramir? Lord Faramir? Are you all right?� Faramir shook his head from his day dreams and looked seeing he had reached the top level far too soon for his liking.
�No...no I�m not all right. But I must see my father.� Dismounting and allowing the young guard to take his horse to the stables; he moved to enter the citadel. His footsteps echoed across the court yard and his heartbeat seemed as loud as a war drum. As he entered, he saw his father in the chair of the steward next to the massive empty chair of the king of Gondor, who was no more.
�Faramir? What are you doing here?� his voice was sharp and curt, but laced slightly with worry. Faramir swallowed and walked up farther to Denethor.
�Father, I...I found this when I went to Osgiliath to assist the captain there. It....it is the Horn of Gondor.� Faramir presented the halved horn to his father, his head down in grief and in fear. The Steward of Gondor took the tan and black horn from his youngest and began to shake slightly.
�Boromir...my son...� Denethor cradled the horn and hung his head, his graying hair hiding his tears and his grief. Faramir swallowed his sorrow and spoke softly.
�I know I will never be the man that Boromir was, father...but I have always tried to please you, and I always shall.� Denethor�s head snapped up and his eyes narrowed dangerously.
�You�ll NEVER be HALF the man Boromir was! Get out of my sight!� Faramir barely held himself from stumbling backwards at his father�s harsh words. Biting back his fury and his pain he turned on his heal and headed off to his rooms, tears starting to trail down his face.
Denethor watched as Faramir left and suddenly felt a great weight upon his shoulders as the doors closed. Burying his head in his hands he whimpered slightly.
�What have I done? What is happening to Gondor�s sons?� Denethor�s questions went unanswered as the silence of the hall crept back; only broken by the sound of his tears.

Faramir sat down heavily in his room throwing off his armor and riding boots and changing into simple clothes. He covered his face with his hands and tried hard not to start crying. For all his life, Boromir was his strength, courage, and better half. During childhood they were hardly separable. Boromir was always there for him, until now. Faramir was alone, with only the memory of the love for his brother and the love of �owyn to keep him going. Faramir got up and went to his desk, taking out a quill and a piece of paper. His hand shaking still from the pain of his father�s words and shock from the loss of his brother, he began to write.

Within three days, the announcement was made that Boromir was dead; and the funeral was arranged. Without a body, they simply draped a sheet over an empty suit of armor and walked towards the houses of the dead. Faramir walked slowly near the back of the precession as Denethor walked near the front. Dressed in his best to honor his brother, he walked into the beautiful halls of the houses of the dead trying not to look at the tombs. He barely contained his tears as the procession neared the center of the tomb where his mother laid and where his brother would soon join. The public funeral ended as the doors to the houses closed and the honor guard stood outside, leaving Faramir and Denethor alone. Faramir saw out of the corner of his eye that Denethor was crying and let his own tears fall upon the white marble floor.
�Rest in peace, brother; mother has been waiting. Go to her and be free of the pains of this earth and the battles you�ve had to fight. Sleep.� Faramir hung his head and shook slightly in sorrow. Denethor nodded proud of Faramir for letting out his emotions in private.
�Well said, Faramir. Well said,� Denethor whispered, his voice quivering.

Faramir stirred gently that night in his sleep. His dreams came quickly and they were of his brother and of himself. In his dreams he awoke in what seemed to be the houses of healing, in his own private room. There were voices all around but they were muffled and faded as if far away. As his vision became clear, he saw above him Boromir. His heart lept into his throat and simply stared in shock.
�It�s all right, little brother. Everything�s going to be okay now. I�m here for you...� the voice faded and the dream became black again.

�Boromir! �omer! Get your ass out of bed!� �owyn sighed and heard the clatter of two bodies trying to get dressed. She shook her head and looked at the door darkly.
�Coming �owyn!� �omer was always the softest of the family when it came to those things. She could hardly a remember a time when her brother was ever a true �warrior�. Perhaps that is why he fell in love with Boromir. �owyn�s thoughts were broken as the two men opened the door.
�Took you long enough. Come on you�re going to be late. Uncle is having a conference with Mithrandir and Aragorn.� The two men nodded and headed off, leaving �owyn alone for the moment. She didn�t notice the messenger until the young man spoke.
�M�lady �owyn, I have a message from Gondor for you.�
�Oh, thank you. You may go now.� �owyn took the letter and opened it, walking slowly towards her room.

With the conference over, Boromir and �omer walked back towards their room. �omer blinked and stopped as they neared his sister�s room.
��owyn? You left rather quickly, are you all right?� Boromir glanced into the woman�s room and saw her clutching a letter.
�Boromir, your brother thinks you are dead...! He wrote to me and...they held your funeral just a few days ago.� �owyn�s eyes were glazed slightly with tears as she got up and gave the man a hug. �You should return home, the longer you stay here the harder it will be to explain to your father and brother that you are alive.� Boromir swallowed and patted her on the back nodding.
�I should...Faramir...alone with father? I can�t do that to him. �omer, I have to leave. My city may need me, and Faramir does,� Boromir said softly, looking to the younger man. �omer smiled and gave the man a clap upon the shoulder.
�I understand, Boromir. Go and help your brother. I would do the same thing for �owyn.�
�I would advice against heading for Gondor, Boromir.� The three looked up as Gandalf walked over, his white robes causing awe in the three.
�Mithrandir, my family needs me. I cannot leave Gondor to darkness!� Boromir looked at the wizard in confusion at his advice. Gandalf smiled sadly and gently patted his shoulder.
�I fear if you go to Gondor now, you will fall into darkness and will not come out. Something in my heart says you are not yet ready for another test of your will. Stay in Rohan, I will be leaving with Pippin for Gondor today, I will look after Faramir for you.� Boromir swallowed and nodded slowly, his hair swinging forward in it�s unkept manner.
�I understand, Mithrandir. Tell him I am alive, as well as my father. I trust that you will take good care of my brother; you were his teacher for a long time.� A sad smile crossed Boromir�s face at the memories. �omer gently reached for the mans hand and gave it a squeeze for reassurance. Boromir smiled gratefully for the action and returned the gesture.
�I assure you, I will. I am sure that Denethor needs guidance as well in these troubled times. But I must go, take care Boromir, not to do anything stupid.� Boromir blinked innocently and grinned.
�I promise I won�t, Gandalf,� Boromir said with a nod. Gandalf sighed with a chuckle and headed off to find the wayward hobbits.

That night Boromir laid with �omer in silence, staring at the ceiling. �omer curled next to him, finally catching his breath from their activities and laid his head upon his chest; listening to his heartbeat.
�I should have gone with Mithrandir and Pippin to Gondor.� �omer looked up at him and frowned gently stroking his broad chest.
�You worry too much. Mithrandir knows much more about darkness than anyone else. He will tell your city that you are alive and well, resting in Rohan and regaining your strength to defend it once more. Your father and brother have great respect for Mithrandir they will take his guidance. Now stop worrying, or you�ll end up looking like an old man.� Boromir smiled sadly and kissed his head.
��omer, darling, I am already forty-one. Technically I am an old man.� �omer pouted and cuddled tighter.
�I meant, an old man like your father,� �omer said, sulking and playing with Boromir�s hairy chest. Boromir chuckled warmly and rubbed the younger man�s back gently, ignoring the fact that something began to poke into his thigh.
�You can�t possibly be ready for another round...?� Boromir looked at him with an eyebrow raised and a tired expression across his face. �omer smiled and pushed closer smiling.
�I might, if you are, old man.� He barely had time to dodge the hand that would have cuffed him on the ear.
�Keep your tongue, you whelp,� Boromir said, trying desperately not to laugh at �omer�s scared puppy look. He didn�t succeed. �Oh come here, you...� Boromir pulled the Rohirrim up into a deep kiss and held him protectively.
�I knew you�d come around.� �omer sighed in contentment, burying his face into the crook of Boromir�s neck.

Aragorn walked quietly through the halls of the Golden Hall, heading towards the outside. He had spent all morning with the king of Rohan, and smoking was off limits within the hall. Aragorn complied, but the need for a good smoke was strong after speaking rather animatedly with the rejuvenated king about the future of Rohan. Aragorn thought back to the many times that Arwen threatened to break his neck if he continued to smoke. They had agreed once married that he would quit, and he had a very strong feeling that he would have to in Gondor. After all, Boromir threatened to kill him on the journey when he accidentally ate some of the dried pipeweed, thinking it a spice for food.
As Aragorn came out and began filling his pipe with pipeweed he saw the black haired man of Gondor sitting in deep thought; his legs hanging over the side of the large observation area. Aragorn strained his hearing to hear that the man of Gondor was singing gently to himself in a deep baritone. As he neared Boromir turned to him.
�Aragorn,� he said with a polite nod. Then turning back to look over Edoras he began to hum again.
�May I join you?� asked Aragorn who sat on the other side of the man. Boromir nodded but said no more. Aragorn frowned and lit his pipe, beginning to smoke. Boromir was slightly slumped and had one hand in his hair. Aragorn frowned at the man�s obvious stress.
�Boromir, what�s wrong?� Boromir looked up at Aragorn�s question and frowned.
�Just...trouble I suppose, in my future love life is all.� One of Aragorn�s eyebrows went up and he frowned.
�Do you wish to talk about it, Boromir?�he asked. Boromir sighed and lent back upon his hands.
��omer is the crown prince now, I�m afraid that...that once he becomes King he will no longer feel the need for my...company.� Aragorn twitched slightly at the mental image of Boromir and �omer together, but suppressed it. Aragorn frowned and took a few puffs of his pipe.
�I�m not sure what to say. I don�t know �omer well enough as you might; but to me he doesn�t seem to be the kind of person to abandon a lover as such. I don�t think you need to worry,� Aragorn said as gently as possible. He knew that the man sitting next to him was under great amounts of stress. Boromir sighed and nodded gently rubbing his neck.
�You�re right. I have known �omer since the day he was almost born. We practically grew up together. He�s my best friend, and my lover. Thank you, Aragorn. I should know better than to doubt my own heart and a friend�s advice.� Boromir smiled at the future king of Gondor and coughed a bit getting up.
�Oh, sorry. I forgot you don�t smoke.� Aragorn smiled weakly and moved away making sure that the smoke from his pipe didn�t blow into Boromir�s face.
�That�s all right, I need to go and practice some of my horse riding fighting. Thank you again, Aragorn, for listening. You will make a great King for Gondor,� Boromir said as he got up. Aragorn nodded his thanks and watched as the Steward-to-be walked back into the Golden Hall.

Gandalf was furious, to say the least. Denethor refused to believe that his oldest son was alive, and Faramir was in Denethor�s sights. The white wizard new that without Boromir there to deflect their father�s rage, Faramir would fall into unquestionable servitude to his father�s madness.
�Faramir! Faramir stop!� He ran into Faramir�s dressing room. The young man, no older than 36, was dressing to find men for a ride to battle within five days. �You will ride your men into a battle you cannot win! Do not listen to your father!� Faramir�s face was stone, showing no emotion to his teacher�s plea.
�If this is the will of the steward, then I shall not be the one to disobey him.� Gandalf frowned and turned the man around looking into the deep gray eyes that he had inherited from his mother.
�What did he say to you, Faramir? What did your father say?� Faramir�s eyes faltered, and so did his face. He embraced the wizard as an old friend and shuttered with bottled emotions. His tears gently rolled down into Gandalf�s white robes. The wizard patted his back and sat with him on the bed gentling listening.
�He said that Boromir would have never let Osgiliath fall. I asked him if he would have me go back and if he would think of me better upon my return...he...� Faramir swallowed his tears and pulled away to compose himself. �He said it would matter upon the manner of my return.� Faramir glared down at his hands, angry at the fact that his father looked down upon him.
�Faramir, you cannot try to please your father in his madness. It will lead only to your death and the death of your men.� Faramir looked away.
�My death would mean the end of my torment; and I would see Boromir again in the halls of our fathers,� Faramir spoke with a distant voice looking through the walls to his brother�s room, which was sealed off. Gandalf put a strong hand on his shoulder.
�Boromir is not dead. He is in Rohan with �omer and �owyn. He wanted to come but there is darkness here that he cannot yet handle.� Faramir looked at him in disbelieve.
�But, the horn of Gondor was found destroyed; and in my dreams I�ve seen Boromir dead!� Faramir spoke quickly looking at his teacher with terrified eyes. Gandalf looked at him calmly.
�What does your heart say?� Gandalf said, repeating what Aragorn had asked him in the halls of Edoras. Faramir looked at him and frowned deeply.
�I cannot say. My heart says he�s alive; but my dreams say he�s dead. I don�t know what to believe.� Gandalf frowned and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
�Then believe me. I will never lead you astray, Faramir. I�m advising you not to attack Osgiliath. That city is lost. There is no profit in losing the lives of good men.� Faramir nodded and slowly fell into the form of the wizard again, his eyes releasing more tears. Gandalf nodded and held the man close letting him release the pain he had suffered.
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Riders and Stewards