be loyal to what matters

Despite attending a handful of these feasts when you were younger, you couldn't help the growing pit of nerves in your stomach. This would be your first major diplomatic event since inheriting your father's title. You had attended to smaller matters and made appearances in your own holdings yes, but that was a familiar audience in a familiar setting. Now, you would be subjected to the scrutinizing eye of the Steward, Denethor, and his court.

With all of this weighing on your mind, you smoothed the front of your tunic. It was finely embroidered - your family's crest placed across your chest. Perhaps a little odd, but the familiar shield and symbols gave you comfort. May my forefathers give me the strength to get through this night, you thought.

---

The mingling and light drinking that often preceded these feasts had yet to conclude. Already, you felt socially drained from the number of "battles", as you had taken to calling them, you fought. Older lords that engaged you in conversation for the sole purpose of testing the mettle of the newest addition to their ranks. A countless number of Mother's hunting you down to introduce their "most eligible and accomplished" daughters. The air inside the room felt warm and suffocating, with not a moments respite before being ambushed into yet another formal conversation.

The announcement of the entrance of the Steward and his two sons, Boromir and Faramir, provided an ample enough distraction for you to slip unnoticed to an open balcony. Leaning over the intricately carved white ledge, you breathed in the freedom of the open air. The balcony overlooked the gardens, allowing the delicate vanilla-and-jasmine scent of honeysuckle to dance in the warm summer air. Nursing your goblet of wine, you released a sigh you didn't know you were holding. If you closed your eyes, you could almost envision you were home - walking in the gardens, taking a seat beside the fountain where the roses and honeysuckle flourished, opening a copy of your favorite book-

The noise of footsteps behind you jolted you out of your daydream. A man's gentle voice fell upon your ears:

"Forgive me, I was unaware someone else had found the same hiding spot." You turned and were met by his soft grey eyes and the cascade of brown hair that fell nearly to his shoulders. Becoming aware that you were staring, practically gawking, at this stranger, you tried to offer a reply as the heat rose to your cheeks.

"Oh, it is quite alright. I'm sure there's enough room for the both of us to take refuge from the siege going on in there." At that, the corner of his mouth quirked up and he released a quiet chuckle. You flashed him a smirk of your own, shifting over and gesturing with a wave of your arm for him to join you. You both took in the picturesque view, enjoying the rare moment of silence, before you turned you head to talk to him.

"I suppose I'm correct in guessing you're more of a veteran at court if this is your go-to getaway?" He shifted to face toward you, a twinkle, perhaps of amusement, in his eyes.

"Yes, I suppose I am a veteran. On the other hand, I don't believe I have ever seen you here?"

"Definitely not. At least, if you have, it has been a long while." You sipped some of your wine before continuing, "I have only recently become responsible for my lands and my people. I spent much of my life in the country except for the occasional visit to Minas Tirith as a child."

"I am sorry for your loss," he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "I know it is no easy task when others place such great expectations on you," he gave an extra squeeze to your shoulder before removing his hand, a faraway look coming over his eyes.

"Come now, let's not dwell on such things," You gently nudged him with your elbow. Taking a deep breath, you relaxed into the familiar floral scent of your daydream. "You know, before you joined me, I was reminiscing about the gardens at home. When I was a child, my friend and I would run absolutely wild in them. We would pick all of the honeysuckle flowers to get our fill of their sweet syrup. My mother nearly killed us after we picked all of the flowers within our reach." The light-hearted air returned to the man's demeanor at the account of your childhood antics.

"You see that fountain over there," he leaned closer to you to point out the structure within the garden. The scent of leather and books filled your senses. "As boys, my brother and I would wrestle and have water fights in it to battle the heat. It was perfectly fine until one day, my tutor came in search of me - I was late for one of my lessons you see - and my brother and I, we pulled him into the fountain with us." Your muffled laughter was barely contained by the hand you had placed over your mouth. "I still can't believe he ever forgave us for that," he finished.

"I wouldn't have blamed him if he didn't", you teased. "I did not take you for such a trouble maker," you continued laughing, your voice now intermingling with his own laughter. After the two of you had settled down, a suspicion finally struck your mind.

"Forgive me, I have been terribly rude and never asked for your name," you questioned.

"There is nothing to forgive, I assure you. I am Faramir, Captain of Gondor and second son to the Steward, Denethor." He gave a small bow with his head. The confirmation of who your fellow-refugee-companion was flushed your face with heat. Quickly, you bowed and gave him your name.

"I apologize for not recognizing you myself, my Lord. I am afraid I have acted too familiarly with one such as yourself." You kept your gaze away from him out of embarrassment. Great job, you thought sarcastically to yourself. You're supposed to swear allegiance to the Steward, yet you cannot even recognize one of his own sons. You must look like an absolute fool. You felt Faramir's hand gently take your chin, raising your eyes towards him.

"Again, there is nothing to forgive. I find your honesty and humor most refreshing. I do believe your companionship may make this night more bearable." Realizing how strongly and straightforward his words came out, a blush crept across his cheeks. Looking into his eyes, you could see that there was something there - an emotion, yet one you could not place. The light and musical ringing of a bell announced that the Steward and his guests would now be going through to the dining room for the feast. The noise of the guests moving and continuing their chatter broke the both of you away from the moment you had shared. Faramir removed his hand from where it had still been holding your chin. You tore your eye's away from his gaze, looking instead to the emptying room. You cleared your throat.

"It seems our refuge from the siege is over," your humorous tone returned once more. Leading the way, Faramir took a few steps towards the entrance back into the room, before turning and offering you a small smile.

"Ah, but at least we may weather the fury of the storm together now. Much better than trying to fight the battle alone, I believe." You chuckled at this comment.

Yes, back into the thick of it, but now you had someone to stand by your side, providing each other back up if the other should need it.

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Tag List: @themerriweathermage @entishramblings @miriel-estelwen

You watched him, as he stood next to you, dressed in a light blue tunic with silver stitching around the hems. His hair fell in soft locks past his shoulders and his water blue eyes carried a deep sadness you could not even begin to understand. The war had taken his beloved brother, and his father, driven mad from the pain had not only taken his own life, but also tried to take Faramir's.

Before you were quite aware of what you were doing, more instinct than anything, you reached over, closing your fingers around Faramir's. His skin was warm in your hand, and his fingers flexed, before he closed them around yours, taking them in a gentle hold. The darkness seemed to fade from his face and the light returned into his eyes. Giving you a small smile, he sat down in the nook next to you, directing his eyes out past the window.

"What drew you to this window of the many in Minas Tirith," he asked almost absentmindedly as he tried to spy what lay within the dark of the night past the glass.

"The view," you answered, tearing your eyes away from him and looking out as well.

"The view," Faramir echoed questioningly. "What view is it you see in the darkness?"

"Not the view I see now but the one I'm waiting for. The sunrise over the mountains in the east." You inhaled deeply, as if to take courage to speak the next words. "It is the longest night of the year, and tonight more than any other night it feels like the sun might never rise again. Like the shadow in the east is reborn in the long darkness of the night and if I were not to sit here, waiting for the sun, it would feel no need to try to fight the night anymore. It is stupid, but…"

"You're scared," Faramir concluded, his voice soft, as he pulled his own feet up into the nook, sitting more comfortably, mirroring your posture. "I understand that fear. It is still unusual to see the sun rise where once nothing but clouds and shadow dwelled. It feels as if tonight the world of men holds its breath, waiting to see if light once again will drive out darkness."

"It feels colder, this night," you mumbled. "I know it's but the winter air carrying the first snow but-"

"It is cold tonight," Faramir nodded. "But sitting against a cold window won't warm you up much when you are tired."

You knew the implication in his words, the unspoken question if it would not be wiser to retire to your bed and sleep under the warm covers to wake up to the sun over the mountains in the east. 

You were about to speak, about to explain that you just could not give in to the urge of sleep and comfort if it meant leaving the dark unattended, but before you could open your mouth, Faramir let go of your still intertwined hands, and reached for a blanket that had been stored in a basket next to the window and threw it over both your bodies.

With wonderment you watched his face as he busied himself with tucking the edges of the blanket into place. You had admired the Steward of Gondor for a long time, your heart tucking you towards his presence with a sweet ache and moments like tonight, not uncommon in the past months, made you wonder if your heart was not the only one that felt such affection. 

Faramir's eyes met yours, a glimmer sparking in them as he saw how softly you regarded him. 

"I would also go fetch a pillow if you wished so," he offered with raised eyebrows, making you shake your head with a smile.

"I should fear falling asleep if I were any more comfortable," you laughed quietly. 

"Then sleep," Faramir encouraged you, "I shall wake you when the horizon starts to brighten. Should it not be enough if one of us kept watch of the dark?"

"I cannot expect you to sacrifice your sleep for my irrational fear of the night," you protested, sitting up on your knees, alarmed Faramir would even offer such a service.

"You wouldn't," he disagreed. "Rather you would do me a favour, if I knew you rested comfortably."

You stared at him for a moment in disbelief. You could not take such an offer, could you? He was an important man, maybe the most important man after the King. He needed to be awake and have his wits together for his daily work. And still, he would offer his sleep for your comfort? But he was a proud man, and even though he would not show it, he would be disappointed if you rejected the offer.

"I wish I could," you answered slowly, still kneeling in front of where he had pulled his knees to his chest. "But I fear the cold of the dark will not let me find sleep."

"We might yet wither it together," Faramir offered, opening his arms invitingly.

For a moment you hesitated, uncertain whether the gesture meant what you thought it did, but when you carefully shifted towards him, he smiled with a nod and opened his arms further.

Settling into his side, between him and the window, Faramir adjusted the blanket over your bodies and gently pulled you closer so you could rest your head against his chest. Your heart was thundering against your rips so loudly you feared he would hear, as you shifted so you could look out of the window, but then you felt Faramir's heartbeat of equal speed, and a smile tugged at your lips. It was comforting to know his heart was just as excited as yours.

"Sleep now," Faramir encouraged, pressing a lingering kiss against the top of your head. "The darkness is but a passing. I shall keep watch and wake you before the first rays of the sun meet the white walls of the city."

"Thank you," you whispered, already lulled in by the warmth his body radiated, and a few moments later sleep had claimed you.

Faramir made sure you had fallen asleep before he inhaled deeply. It felt right, sitting here with you resting against his chest, as right as everything felt any time he got to spend time with you, although he had to admit he had not dared hoping you would welcome his affection. And as he sat staring out into the night, willing the sun to soon lighten the sky with her ascent, he felt the darkness brighten with you at his side.