Title & Chapter Number: Everholt 12-13/?
Author(s): - Author's Index
Website: Dalo's Archive
Fandom: Middle Earth
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: Characters not mine. I'm just a guy who loves guys loving guys, filling in some gaps, with all due respect to Tolkien.
Warnings: Slash (duh), Angst. Homosexual relationships and acts. Nothing kinky, but definitely down and dirty at times (we're talkin' NC-17, folks). You gotta problem wit dat? Here's a tip: DON'T READ IT!!!
Betas: Elfscribe (Luv ya!)
Cast: Boromir/Théodred
Timeline: Third Age
Spoilers: None
Summary: Radagast takes it upon himself to heal Boromir's broken heart by encouraging the Gondorian to take a trip down memory lane.
Notes: This fic is part of the same story arc which began with "The Hand of the King," my first fic, and will continue with "The Heart of the King."
Chapter 12 – Minas Tirith, June, 3020, TA
My brother sat at the kitchen table, eating the breakfast prepared for us by Marta, our cook and surrogate mother. He looked up as I entered and smiled.
"Good morning, brother," he said cheerily. "Did you sleep well?"
"Gods, yes," I replied with a yawn and a stretch. "And you?"
"I always sleep well after hunting orc."
I moved to my place at the table and sat down as Marta placed a plate of eggs in front of me.
"So," she said, "was your hunt successful?"
"Boromir's prowess was most impressive, Marta. He slew no less than fifty of the foul creatures yesterday," Faramir said.
"You exaggerate, brother. I doubt that I dispatched more than twenty-five."
"No, I counted, Boromir. Fifty-two were slain at your hand alone."
"You counted?" I asked, buttering my toast.
"Of course," he answered with a grin. "I must know where the standard is set before I can exceed it, now mustn't I?"
My hunger was immense and I tore into my breakfast with a vengeance.
"If memory serves, Faramir, your tally was no small number either," I commented between bites.
"I don't recall," he said modestly.
"Thirty-seven," I said.
He smiled and asked, "You counted?"
"Of course," I said. "I must know how closely my little brother nips at my heels."
"I shall nip more than your heel, big brother," he said, punching me in the arm. Though smaller than me, his blow carried a great deal of power.
"And you shall regret it as well," I countered, punching him back.
"Now, now," Marta interjected. "Not at the breakfast table."
"My apologies, Marta," I said.
"And mine," added Faramir.
"I declare," she said. "If I did not know better, I would swear the two of ya never matured beyond your teens."
"We haven't," teased Faramir. "Have we, brother?"
"Speak for yourself, little one." I said, taking a bite of toast.
Faramir lunged out of his chair and launched himself at me, throwing both of us to the floor.
"Boys! Boys! Stop that at once!" cried Marta. We ignored her admonitions and continued to wrestle, laughing gleefully.
A deep voice rang through the kitchen. "Master Boromir?"
Faramir and I both looked up from the floor to see a man standing in the doorway. He wore an iron helm topped with the traditional horse tail ornamentation of a Rohirrim soldier. I jumped off Faramir and to my feet.
"I am Boromir," I said.
"I bear a message from Rohan for Boromir, son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor," he said.
"I say again, I am he. What is your message?" I asked.
In response, he held forth an envelope sealed with the royal mark of Rohan.
"I thank you," I said, accepting the letter.
"Do you desire to send a response?" the man asked.
I assumed the letter was a confirmation of our meeting in Everholt.
"No, that won't be necessary," I said. "You may take your leave to return to Rohan with our gratitude."
He bowed his head, turned with a snap and disappeared from the doorway.
Faramir had returned to his chair and asked, "What is it, Boromir?"
"I don't know," I said, opening the letter as I sat down in my chair.
I had torn it in open in eager delight, but was soon devastated as I read its contents. I attempted to hide my disappointment, but my brother was far too perceptive to let it pass unnoticed.
"Is something wrong, brother?" Faramir asked.
I quickly hid the letter in my shirt and returned to my meal.
"No," I answered abruptly, shoving a forkful of eggs into my mouth.
"Are you certain?" Faramir persisted.
"I said no, Faramir. Now let me be."
"Boromir," chided Marta, turning from the stove and carrying a plate of hot thick-sliced ham to the table. "There's no need to snap his head off, now is there?"
"I don't like to repeat myself," I protested.
"He's just concerned for ya. Aren't ya, lad?"
"Yes," answered Faramir. "I'm just concerned for you, Boromir."
I looked up at him. While I perceived his eyes held a measure of concern, the larger part of his question more than likely arose from curiosity. Curse his need to know everything about everybody.
"Your concern is appreciated, but not needed," I said as I stabbed a piece of meat onto my plate. "Now eat your breakfast. We're to inspect the new recruits in less than an hour."
"I'm finished," he countered. "Thank you, Marta," he said as she removed his plate from the table. "It was delicious. As usual."
"Flatterer," Marta laughed.
"I speak only the truth, good lady," responded Faramir. "Unlike my brother, who speaks only the unpleasant." He punched my arm playfully again, but I was in no mood for jests.
"I am warning you, Faramir," I snapped. "Leave me be."
"Come now, Boromir," he insisted. "It can't be all that bad."
"I don't want to talk about it," I said, becoming angrier with every word.
"Well, we do. Don't we, Marta?" he jibed.
"I SAID LEAVE ME BE," I shouted, rising from the table and storming from the kitchen.
I strode angrily to my bedchambers and slammed the door shut.
I removed your letter with trembling hands and sat on the bed to read its contents once more.
"Most honorable Boromir,
I sincerely regret that I must cancel our meeting in Everholt this summer. Circumstances beyond my control have conspired to prevent our annual reunion. It is with a heavy heart that I must refrain from journeying to see you this year. It is my hope, however, to reestablish this most important customary appointment next year.
Please forgive my absence and try to understand that I cannot tell you more at this time. I desire an opportunity to explain the situation in more detail when next we meet.
Until next year, I remain
Affectionately yours, Théodred"
My eyes were laced with tears, which fell onto the parchment. Your name blurred in the salty moisture until it was unrecognizable.
"Boromir?"
I quickly returned your letter to its home in my shirt as I looked up to find Faramir standing in the doorway. He stepped in and closed the door behind him.
"What is it, Faramir?" I asked, wiping the tears from my eyes.
"I truly was concerned for you, brother. You've been walking around here with an enormous grin on your face for the last two weeks. And now . . . ."
"And now what?" I asked.
"The letter you received appears to have upset you."
"And?"
He sat on the bed next to me. "And . . . I couldn't imagine what that letter could contain that would have such an impact on your mood."
I stood up and moved to the window.
"You had been so happy until today," Faramir said. "I hadn't seen you so happy since . . . ." His voice trailed off in thought.
"Please, Faramir. Let it go," I implored, turning to face him.
"No!" He rose and strode towards me with annoyance on his face. "For years you've ordered me around. You've interfered with my life at every turn, insisting it was for my own good. Now it is my turn to interfere for your own good."
"Faramir, now is not the time –, "I began.
"Now is the time that I choose! Tell me what is in that letter that has upset you so!" he demanded.
"Just who do you think you are?" I asked, my anger returning. "Remember your place, little brother."
"I am little no longer. And I will no longer submit to your every whim. Is that understood?" His face was flushed with anger. His eyes flashed with a passion I had never seen in him before. I could not help but notice that it suited him well.
"This doesn't concern you," I said, walking past him and moving to the bed.
"Does it concern Prince Théodred?" he asked.
"You have no idea what you're talking about," I said and flopped onto the bed where I stared up at the ceiling.
"Don't I? You return from last year's summit grinning from ear to ear, whistling as you walked the halls. Then, as the time of this year's summit approaches, your mood improves to the point where I actually enjoy being with you, as bizarre as that sounds. And now you receive a letter with the seal of Rohan which sends you into another one of your dark moods."
"Why should that matter to you?" I asked.
"It matters because you're my brother."
"An accident of birth," I said despairingly.
He stood for a moment in silence and then said confidently, "I know what bothers you."
"Really," I said. My voice was as cold as my heart. "What do you think is bothering me?"
Faramir walked to the bed and looked down at me.
"You're in love," he stated with a certainty that I couldn't deny.
"I'm in love. Indeed. And who is the object of my affection, dare I ask?" I continued to stare at the ceiling.
He sat on the bed next to me.
"I think you're in love with this Théodred."
"You are mistaken, Faramir. I love no one," I lied.
"If you had made that claim two years ago, I would have believed you. But your behavior recently has been that of a man in love," he asserted.
"And what makes you an expert on love?"
"I loved once. But you should know that, considering you destroyed that love."
In a flash, I sat up and grabbed Faramir by the shoulders, throwing him onto the bed. I straddled his waist and held his wrists by the sides of his head. He struggled, but I held fast.
"Will you hate me forever? Will you never forgive me for that?" I demanded.
"NO!" he shouted. "I will not. And why should I? You have never shown a shred of remorse."
My anger was replaced by shame, but I did not release him. I struggled to keep the tears that threatened to flow at bay, but I was losing that battle.
"You have no idea what I feel. So do not presume to judge me, for you could not pass any judgment that would be more severe than that which I have given myself."
His face softened from anger to confusion.
"What is this? Contrition from the stone-hearted Boromir?" he asked.
I released his hands but did not move from atop him.
"Call it what you will. But know that I truly regret my actions that day," I confessed.
His face softened again from confusion to compassion. His capacity for love both astonished and shamed me.
"And now you love another man yourself," he said.
I rolled over onto my back next to him.
"Believe me, the irony does not escape me," I said.
He turned to face me, supporting his weight on his elbow.
"So you *do* love him," he said, more of a statement than a question.
"Yes. I do," I confirmed.
"So what ill tidings does the letter bring?" he asked.
I reached into my shirt and retrieved your letter.
"Here," I said. "Read for yourself."
He took the letter and read the contents.
"Ah, Boromir," he said softly. "It seems Fate has returned your wicked deeds to your doorstep."
"Again, the irony is not lost on me, dear brother."
He leaned over and kissed me on the forehead while laying the letter on my chest.
"Poor Boromir. He must endure the pain of separation for yet another year," he said.
"Please do not mock my pain, Faramir. It is enough that you know of my distress and pity me."
"I do not mock you, Boromir. And I do not pity you. And I could never hate you. Now, come," he patted my chest. "Let us go inspect the new recruits." And with that, he rolled off the bed and headed for the door.
"Very well," I answered, sitting up and swinging my legs over the side of the bed. "But Faramir?"
He halted with his hand on the latch.
"Yes?"
"You won't tell anyone about this, will you?" I asked tentatively.
"You told no one my secret, and I will do the same for you," he answered.
"Thank you," I said.
He smiled and winked at me. "That's what brothers are for," he said, then opened the door and left the room.
Once again, my little brother behaved with more dignity and maturity than I could ever hope to attain.
~*~*~*~
Chapter 13 – Lothlórien, January, 3019, TA
"It sounds as if Faramir gave you more respect than you deserved, considering your past transgression," I said.
Boromir nodded in agreement. "I must agree with you on that score. My brother has never ceased to surprise me."
"He must love you very much," I observed.
"I don't know if that much is true. But he has shown me more compassion than I had shown him."
"So you and I did not correspond again until the next summer?" I asked.
"The following year was unbearable. I could think of little else until your letter arrived confirming our meeting."
"So we were to meet that year?" I asked.
"Fortunately for you, yes. For had you cancelled again, I would have traveled to Edoras to confront you directly."
"That would have been bad."
"Indeed. However, your letter arrived and Faramir teased me incessantly the remaining two weeks until I escaped for Everholt . . . ."
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