Ficlet: Whisper of Winds (A/B, A/F, PG)
Nov. 28th, 2003 08:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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rugbytackleTitle: Whisper of Winds
Author: Raederle
Pairing: A/B, A/F
Rating: PG
Warning: spoilers for Return of the King
Archive: Rugbytackling, FellowShip
Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em, not for profit
Summary: Faramir talks to Aragorn about his brother, when the fighting is over
Near the snow, near the sun, in the highest fields
See how those names are fêted by the waving grass,
And by the streamers of white cloud,
And whispers of wind in the listening sky;
The names of those who in their lives fought for life,
Who wore at their hearts the fire’s centre.
Born of the sun they traveled a short while towards the sun,
And left the vivid air signed with their honour.
– Stephen Spender
The Steward of Gondor brought the day’s documents to King Elessar’s office for his approval. The former Ranger looked at the pile of paperwork and then out at the morning sunshine.
“No, Faramir, please, not this morning. Let’s go outside.”
Elessar led the way up to the top of one of the towers where there was a small platform with a low parapet. The air was cool that morning, as a thunderstorm had blown through the night before, breaking the summer heat. A mist was rising from the Anduin and the slopes of Ithilien in the distance had a green tinge. The fields had been planted and were coming into ripeness as the harvest neared. Elessar looked over his kingdom and Faramir watched his king. The sunlight brought out bronze highlights in his hair and his blue eyes glowed with pale fire in the light. Elessar seemed to find peace in the outdoor air, so Faramir dared to broach the subject that had been on his mind since he had heard of the Fellowship and their quest.
“Boromir would have rejoiced to see Gondor in such health,” Faramir finally broke the silence.
Elessar turned, a quizzical look on his face, as Faramir continued, “I would know how he spent his last months. We spent much time apart, with our commands, but we were never so far away as when he undertook my father’s errand to Rivendell. Sometimes we dreamed the same dreams, but I never sensed him after he left to find the Elves.”
Elessar sighed, sorry to be reminded of his grief on such a glorious morning, but he owed the man beside him anything he might ask.
“His love for Gondor was palpable and everything he did was for that love,” the King began. “He was brave and compassionate and honorable. He took good care of the young Hobbits, even trained them in sword fighting. When Gandalf fell, he was the only one who kept his head and he got me out of there.” Elessar went to tell Faramir everything he could recall of the Captain of the White Tower, hoping to ease the brother’s pain.
Faramir smiled at the telling, for all the adventures were so typical of Boromir, but his mind worried at the one thing that had been bothering him for months.
Finally Elessar quieted and stood looking down at the city, and Faramir asked the question that had concerned him the most, “Tell me of his death, please. Sam said that the Ring drove him mad, but what I saw in my vision was not madness, but peace.”
Elessar trembled at the query he had known he would one day have to face. “Tis true, what Sam said, but your dream was true as well.” Faramir’s need to understand had brought all his emotions back and Elessar forced down his tears as he recalled the worst day of his life. “Elrond was reluctant to allow the two young Hobbits to come on the quest, but without them, our losses would be most grievous.”
Faramir place a hand on the King’s shoulder to steady the obviously distressed man. “I’m sorry, but I loved him so . . . I need to know.”
Elessar clasped Faramir’s hand with one of his own and scrubbed the other across his eyes. “I will tell you. The Hobbits were his salvation. He died trying to save Merry and Pippin from the Uruk-Hai. If ever he faltered when he tried to take the Ring from Frodo, then he repented it immediately. And he dearly loved his two little ones and for their sake, he redeemed his honor. He died as a warrior should, with his sword in his hand.”
Faramir tightened his grip on the shaking man, and murmured almost to himself, “Thus Pippin saved my life and Merry saved my lady’s. The great wheel turns and even after his death he protects me.”
The King nodded through his tears as he continued, “And before his life left him, he swore fealty to me and gave the keeping of his country into my hands. So he went in peace, as you saw.”
As Elessar gradually steadied himself, Faramir pulled away and turned to look out at the lush fields, at Gondor, recovering from her wounds. At his city, which was coming back to life after years of despair. He knew that Frodo had delivered them all from darkness, but he also knew that the West would have fallen if not for the man at his side. He recalled the first time he had ever seen this Ranger from the North and the love that had kindled in his heart at that moment. He thought of all the things that Merry had said and not said when they had talked in the Houses of Healing. And he was determined to offer the King some solace.
“Merry tells me that you loved my brother,” Faramir said hesitantly.
“Nosy Hobbits,” the King growled, “I thought we were discreet.”
“Hobbits are truly the most curious of peoples,” Faramir tried to lighten the moment, for he suddenly felt he had intruded too much on the King with his question.
Elessar smiled briefly and then his eyes turned to the north as if he could see a distant waterfall, “Yes, I loved him. I loved him with all the passion that was denied to me for Arwen, because of her father’s injunction. Part of my heart died when Boromir did.”
Faramir gathered his courage, “Then, I would ask . . . I know I am not my brother . . . but I offer my love to you. Perhaps you could accept me in his place.”
“No,” the King said seriously. “I cannot allow that.”
The Steward hunched his shoulders in defeat and started to turn away, but Elessar grabbed his chin and turned him back.
“My faithful Steward, you are Faramir, not Boromir. He is gone and cannot be recalled and I would not place that burden on you. Nor would I dishonor our love and his memory by pretending he is here.”
Elessar’s eyes took on a mischievous glint that Faramir would have called a smirk in another man, but he was surprised to see such a look on the King’s face.
“If, however, you offer yourself to me as Faramir, a jewel among men in his own right, then I declare to you, that I love you also on your own merit, but never as a substitute for your brother. What say you?”
Faramir felt a tightness in his chest ease and his lips moved seemingly on their own to answer the King’s grin. He replied quietly, “I say that your words bring me joy.”
Elessar’s grin turned into a luminous smile. “Then come here!” he demanded.
Faramir went into Elessar’s embrace and their lips met and Faramir tangled his hand in the King’s dark hair as Elessar wrapped his arms around Faramir’s waist. Faramir kept his eyes open for a time looking at the golden sunshine gilding the green fields far below. He felt a familiar presence at his shoulder and the gentle winds seemed to whisper words heard long ago, “Remember this day, little brother.”
Then the winds blew all his remaining sadness away and Faramir smiled into the kiss, closed his eyes and turned all of his attention to the moaning man in his arms.
Author: Raederle
Pairing: A/B, A/F
Rating: PG
Warning: spoilers for Return of the King
Archive: Rugbytackling, FellowShip
Disclaimer: Don’t own ‘em, not for profit
Summary: Faramir talks to Aragorn about his brother, when the fighting is over
Near the snow, near the sun, in the highest fields
See how those names are fêted by the waving grass,
And by the streamers of white cloud,
And whispers of wind in the listening sky;
The names of those who in their lives fought for life,
Who wore at their hearts the fire’s centre.
Born of the sun they traveled a short while towards the sun,
And left the vivid air signed with their honour.
– Stephen Spender
The Steward of Gondor brought the day’s documents to King Elessar’s office for his approval. The former Ranger looked at the pile of paperwork and then out at the morning sunshine.
“No, Faramir, please, not this morning. Let’s go outside.”
Elessar led the way up to the top of one of the towers where there was a small platform with a low parapet. The air was cool that morning, as a thunderstorm had blown through the night before, breaking the summer heat. A mist was rising from the Anduin and the slopes of Ithilien in the distance had a green tinge. The fields had been planted and were coming into ripeness as the harvest neared. Elessar looked over his kingdom and Faramir watched his king. The sunlight brought out bronze highlights in his hair and his blue eyes glowed with pale fire in the light. Elessar seemed to find peace in the outdoor air, so Faramir dared to broach the subject that had been on his mind since he had heard of the Fellowship and their quest.
“Boromir would have rejoiced to see Gondor in such health,” Faramir finally broke the silence.
Elessar turned, a quizzical look on his face, as Faramir continued, “I would know how he spent his last months. We spent much time apart, with our commands, but we were never so far away as when he undertook my father’s errand to Rivendell. Sometimes we dreamed the same dreams, but I never sensed him after he left to find the Elves.”
Elessar sighed, sorry to be reminded of his grief on such a glorious morning, but he owed the man beside him anything he might ask.
“His love for Gondor was palpable and everything he did was for that love,” the King began. “He was brave and compassionate and honorable. He took good care of the young Hobbits, even trained them in sword fighting. When Gandalf fell, he was the only one who kept his head and he got me out of there.” Elessar went to tell Faramir everything he could recall of the Captain of the White Tower, hoping to ease the brother’s pain.
Faramir smiled at the telling, for all the adventures were so typical of Boromir, but his mind worried at the one thing that had been bothering him for months.
Finally Elessar quieted and stood looking down at the city, and Faramir asked the question that had concerned him the most, “Tell me of his death, please. Sam said that the Ring drove him mad, but what I saw in my vision was not madness, but peace.”
Elessar trembled at the query he had known he would one day have to face. “Tis true, what Sam said, but your dream was true as well.” Faramir’s need to understand had brought all his emotions back and Elessar forced down his tears as he recalled the worst day of his life. “Elrond was reluctant to allow the two young Hobbits to come on the quest, but without them, our losses would be most grievous.”
Faramir place a hand on the King’s shoulder to steady the obviously distressed man. “I’m sorry, but I loved him so . . . I need to know.”
Elessar clasped Faramir’s hand with one of his own and scrubbed the other across his eyes. “I will tell you. The Hobbits were his salvation. He died trying to save Merry and Pippin from the Uruk-Hai. If ever he faltered when he tried to take the Ring from Frodo, then he repented it immediately. And he dearly loved his two little ones and for their sake, he redeemed his honor. He died as a warrior should, with his sword in his hand.”
Faramir tightened his grip on the shaking man, and murmured almost to himself, “Thus Pippin saved my life and Merry saved my lady’s. The great wheel turns and even after his death he protects me.”
The King nodded through his tears as he continued, “And before his life left him, he swore fealty to me and gave the keeping of his country into my hands. So he went in peace, as you saw.”
As Elessar gradually steadied himself, Faramir pulled away and turned to look out at the lush fields, at Gondor, recovering from her wounds. At his city, which was coming back to life after years of despair. He knew that Frodo had delivered them all from darkness, but he also knew that the West would have fallen if not for the man at his side. He recalled the first time he had ever seen this Ranger from the North and the love that had kindled in his heart at that moment. He thought of all the things that Merry had said and not said when they had talked in the Houses of Healing. And he was determined to offer the King some solace.
“Merry tells me that you loved my brother,” Faramir said hesitantly.
“Nosy Hobbits,” the King growled, “I thought we were discreet.”
“Hobbits are truly the most curious of peoples,” Faramir tried to lighten the moment, for he suddenly felt he had intruded too much on the King with his question.
Elessar smiled briefly and then his eyes turned to the north as if he could see a distant waterfall, “Yes, I loved him. I loved him with all the passion that was denied to me for Arwen, because of her father’s injunction. Part of my heart died when Boromir did.”
Faramir gathered his courage, “Then, I would ask . . . I know I am not my brother . . . but I offer my love to you. Perhaps you could accept me in his place.”
“No,” the King said seriously. “I cannot allow that.”
The Steward hunched his shoulders in defeat and started to turn away, but Elessar grabbed his chin and turned him back.
“My faithful Steward, you are Faramir, not Boromir. He is gone and cannot be recalled and I would not place that burden on you. Nor would I dishonor our love and his memory by pretending he is here.”
Elessar’s eyes took on a mischievous glint that Faramir would have called a smirk in another man, but he was surprised to see such a look on the King’s face.
“If, however, you offer yourself to me as Faramir, a jewel among men in his own right, then I declare to you, that I love you also on your own merit, but never as a substitute for your brother. What say you?”
Faramir felt a tightness in his chest ease and his lips moved seemingly on their own to answer the King’s grin. He replied quietly, “I say that your words bring me joy.”
Elessar’s grin turned into a luminous smile. “Then come here!” he demanded.
Faramir went into Elessar’s embrace and their lips met and Faramir tangled his hand in the King’s dark hair as Elessar wrapped his arms around Faramir’s waist. Faramir kept his eyes open for a time looking at the golden sunshine gilding the green fields far below. He felt a familiar presence at his shoulder and the gentle winds seemed to whisper words heard long ago, “Remember this day, little brother.”
Then the winds blew all his remaining sadness away and Faramir smiled into the kiss, closed his eyes and turned all of his attention to the moaning man in his arms.
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no subject
Date: 2003-11-29 05:50 pm (UTC)Re: Wonderful
Date: 2003-11-30 01:43 am (UTC)I got the idea for the story from the poem at the top, but I'm glad you like it because I'm pretty sure this was heavily influenced by your Faramir.
BTW, define "O3P" please? One three pairing? I'm confused.
Re: Wonderful
Date: 2003-11-30 01:54 am (UTC)O3P is a silly phrase based on OTP, One True Pairing...one true trio. I don't really have an O3P in this fandom nor even an OTP (I can do Aragorn/Boromir/Faramir/Arwen/Eowyn/Eomer in all sorts of combinations...I guess Legolas/Gimli is my OTP, though I have only written them once!)
no subject
Date: 2003-11-29 11:09 pm (UTC)I especially love the hint of Boromir at the end... a familiar presence at his shoulder. Beautiful.
no subject
Date: 2003-11-30 01:44 am (UTC)Thank you for that! I felt that Boromir had to give his blessings so I put him in.
no subject
Date: 2003-11-30 08:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-12-01 12:53 am (UTC)Thank you! I read the poem and the whole story just popped into my head.