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Written by arahiril

19 January 2008 | 3288 words

Boromir

It was a puzzled Boromir who watched Faramir leave the White Hall. The sudden change in his brother’s behavior was strange, almost disturbing. He had been so happy to return home – and now he was complaining of a painful wound (which in itself was a rarity, for Faramir never complained of anything) and leaving their happy reunion with their father with what almost looked like anger on his face. Those deadly eyes of his…

He couldn’t understand Faramir’s change in behavior. And he certainly wasn’t going to let him simply walk away like that. Just when the pieces of their family had come together again, Faramir had decided that it wasn’t what he wanted or needed right then, and had chosen to leave their longed-for reunion for the comforts of a healer’s brew.

A sense of frustration overcame him as he thought further. Regardless of any physical wounds, all three of them, their father included, had suffered through anxiety and sorrow those last awful weeks, and it was not right for Faramir to ignore their father so quickly. It was not Boromir’s place to constantly have to mediate between the two, nor was it fair to ask that of him. Denethor was reaching out, and Faramir was disregarding him unfairly.

Neither was it his responsibility to side with his brother in this pointless non-argument. “Father, I do not know what troubles him, but he should tell us himself, instead of feigning trouble with a wound. I will bring him back.” With anger rising against his brother, he slipped out of the embrace of his father and, without looking back at Denethor, followed Faramir out into the courtyard and to the one of the furthest battlements.

All possible anger in him dissipated as he saw Faramir cry out to the sky and collapse to his knees. Fearing that his brother was truly in pain and had been hiding it all the time since their rescue, he ran across the Courtyard to his aid, and called out to him. “Brother!” he cried, as he raced to Faramir’s side.

Faramir stood up abruptly, and turned around to face Boromir, who had reached his brother. He did not seem to be hurting, nor was his face any different than when he had left the Hall.

Breathless from fear and his sprint, Boromir was completely confused by his brother’s sudden outburst. “Faramir, are you in pain? Are you all right? I heard you cry out, and I ran after you.”

Faramir remained stony-faced. “I am fine.”

“Brother, if you were fine, you would not cry out as you did.” Boromir rested one hand on his brother’s unharmed shoulder, and stared intently at his face. “Are you in pain?”

“I am not,” Faramir replied tightly, as he shrugged Boromir’s hand off his shoulder. “I just needed air. I just needed to be away.” And with that, he turned his eyes toward the far distance beyond the Pelennor, and started to walk along the parapets, away from his brother.

To his shame, Boromir’s temper flared. Why now? Why did he have to spoil their return with his brooding? They should be celebrating with their father right now, not suffering in uncomfortable silence out in the Courtyard. Without understanding, Boromir quickly walked after his brother, and stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

“Away? Away from what? Away from our home?” Faramir did not answer, choosing instead to walk around the barrier created by his brother’s body. Boromir continued to walk alongside Faramir, attempting to get him to respond. “Away from Father? Is that what this is all about?”

Faramir’s silence was telling.

“You cannot – you cannot be angry with Father!” Boromir, frustrated and bothered, grabbed his brother’s unharmed shoulder, forcing him to stop and look him in the eye.

“I am not angry with him.”

“And yet you want to be away from him? Faramir, what is wrong with you? Can you not see his care for you? You always have said that you craved a kind word – and there he stood, welcoming you home, and that is not enough for you? What more do you want, Faramir? What more can he offer you than his love?”

The cold stone of Faramir’s eyes melted into disappointment and hurt, but his face remained unchanged. “You don’t see it, do you?” It was a question that Boromir could not answer, for he did not see what Faramir apparently did. Yet he did not want to answer that he did not, for Faramir cleared wanted him to see whatever it was. But he truly did not understand.

“You don’t.” Faramir spoke the words without anger or reproach, but with an infinite sadness that made Boromir feel as though he had let his brother down in some way.

“See what? What is it, brother?” Boromir begged Faramir to share his sorrow, all anger once more gone, but Faramir shook his head.

“If you cannot see it, then… I do not know. I just do not know, Boromir. But I know I need to be away. I think I just want to go home.”

Boromir did not understand. “Faramir, we are home.”

Faramir shook his head again, but said nothing. And he continued to walk along the battlements, his eyes fixed on some point in the distance, even as Boromir, confused and unaware, watched him silently from afar, unable to solve the mystery that was his brother.

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