Death Long Suffered: 11. Resolution

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11. Resolution

Faramir's eye closed.

"Faramir," Boromir whispered anxiously. "Faramir." He waited, stunned when he realized that Faramir slept. His mouth fell open. Then, he blinked twice and smiled. 'My kiss is not quite as powerful as some have led me to believe.' He leaned against the bed, sides shaking in mirth. 'Ah, little brother. You always keep me humble.'

He sat for the rest of the night at his brother's side, pondering the changes that occurred to make him so... lust-filled in these last hours. 'Truth be told,' he thought miserably, 'if I look into my heart, it has always been his. Would that it had not.' A ripple of fear ran through him. 'I have shown my hand; will he ever love me again, as brothers? Will he shrink from my touch? Will I never be able to hold him in a brotherly embrace? I have ruined our lives. Mayhap he will not remember, but think it a part of the nightmare.' He groaned. He did not want Faramir to think him a nightmare.

Dawn found him pacing the room. 'I will not speak upon it. He is awake and that is the important thing. I cannot, I will not put further burden upon him, asking for something vile.' His face burned. He turned and drew in a great breath. Faramir looked beautiful. 'Beyond beautiful - more like unto a Vala,' he thought wildly. He backed towards the door, the point furthest from his brother, and slumped to the floor. 'I must get away ere I do something heinous. And yet, I have promised I would stay with him until he is healed. What have I done?' He dropped his head and buried his face in his hands.

"B... Bowomiwr?"

He covered his head with his hands and moaned. "Do not speak to me now, Faramir. I... I am ill."

"Bowomiwr?" The pain and fear in his brother's voice tore through him, but what else could he do. He stood with his back to Faramir and fled.


"You cannot leave him alone, with only Denethor as company." Two nights and three days passed without Boromir's visits and Faramir slept not, nor ate. Siriondil could not help Boromir, did not understand the nature of an illness that showed no outward signs, but knew Faramir needed his brother at his side, more so now than ever. Whatever assailed Boromir did not appear to be contagious. He continued his pleas. "He woke only because of your love, Boromir."

"Do not say that!" Boromir shouted.

The Master Healer stepped back in surprise. "Boromir. The love between you and Faramir is legend. It is as a beacon to the rest of Gondor. Something for us to strive for. Pure love, offering all with no thought of cost or glory. You gave up your commission for his sake. The Knights of Gondor speak highly of your sacrifice. Do you withdraw that promise?"

"Nay," Boromir stood, his shoulders hunched. "I will return to his room."

"He is numb. He turned Ioreth away; would not hear the tale that is so dear to his heart. You... you break him further, Boromir, with your absence.

"I said I would return! Now, leave me be." He flung the door open, then closed it violently behind him.

The Master Healer sat hard upon his chair. 'What has happened?' he wondered. Did Denethor further rile Boromir over his resignation? His hand came up and rubbed furiously at the furrow between his brows. 'Perhaps I should send for Imrahil? He would discern the nature of Boromir's unease and help him o'ercome it.' He walked to his study's window and watched as Denethor's son stomped across the courtyard and into the Houses main building. Shaking his head, he called for Ioreth.

Boromir did not look back as he turned into the hall that led to Faramir's room. His face burned with shame; Boromir knew the healer mistakenly thought it the result of a fever. 'Pure love,' he thought grimly. 'They think I have pure love for Faramir. Mayhap, one time it was such, but now... Oh Valar! It is naught but desire. How can I be alone with him? That is the solution. I will order Mablung or Damrod to be always present. They must guard him lest he hurt himself if another 'fit' takes him.' He breathed a sigh of relief. He stopped, dropped his head into his hands and dug the palms into his eyes to stop the flow of tears that threatened to expose his love. His vile, unnatural love.

"Captain Boromir?"

"Damrod! I was going to send for you. Faramir has been... Faramir needs... I would have a guard in Faramir's room at all times. I am concerned for his well-being and safety."

"Has there been an attack upon him?" Damrod asked, incredulity showing in his face.

"Nay. He is not healing as well as Siriondil had hoped. He dreams and hurts himself whilst in the dreams. I think it best if someone is with him at all times."

"Yes, Captain." Damrod still looked puzzled. "But you or the Steward or Ioreth or Siriondil are always with him. Why would he need another?"

"He has the strength of a kine when his mind is terrorized. One person alone cannot handle him, keep him from falling, or breaking something. I think it best."

"Then I will set up a roster of a few men and bring it to you within the hour."

"No." Boromir felt his face burning from the shame. "Come with me now. Then... Is Mablung returned from his leave?"

"He is."

"Good. Have him take the night watch."

"Yes, Captain. I will send a missive to him and follow you."

"Write it whilst you are with Faramir. There is no need to stop now."

"As you wish, Captain."

Boromir strode into Faramir's room and Damrod followed.

Faramir looked up in joy at the sound of Boromir's voice, but his face immediately fell as Damrod walked through the door behind his brother. The lad bit his lip and turned his face away, trying desperately to hide his disappointment. "Damrod. It ith good to thee you again. Did you take thum leave?"

"I did, Lieutenant. The call of the City is too strong and I came back. Mablung has returned also. We are gluttons for punishment."

Faramir's smile slightly twisted with the bandages still on his jaw. "Again, it ith good to thee you. Do you need me fow thume thing?"

"I am posting guards, Faramir." Boromir stood by the door. "I think it wise for your care."

"Awr not the healewr'th able to cawr fow me?"

"Siriondil is all we need. Besides, your men have missed your companionship," Boromir attempted a smile and all but failed.

"I bring news of the company, Lieutenant. I thought you might like to hear something of what we have been doing whilst you dally here."

If Boromir could have hugged the man, he would have. 'I must make sure he receives that promotion!'

Faramir motioned and Damrod sat at his lieutenant's side and began to tell of the antics of his men while they were on leave. Every now and again, Faramir would look towards his brother, but Boromir always looked away.


This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.

Story Information

Author: Alcardilme

Status: General

Completion: Complete

Era: 3rd Age - The Stewards

Genre: Drama

Rating: Adult

Last Updated: 07/26/10

Original Post: 07/03/09

Go to Death Long Suffered overview


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