#faramir

Boromir hoists himself upright on the bed and Faramir rushes to his side to tuck pillows behind his back and plump them up. The older brother thanks him with a sigh, patting his wrist. The younger brings an additional stool to the bedside, earning approval from one of the healers before he does. He sits yet fidgets with the button at his cuff, tapping his foot nervously on the stone floor.

‘Alright, alright, enough already with the ruckus,’ Boromir hisses, already dizzy from sitting up. ‘You said you wanted to tell me something. What is it?’

‘Maybe we should wait a moment.’

‘Wh—’

At the same second, a figure appears at the doorframe. A lean woman with blond hair reaching her waist, rustling against the white silk of her belted dress with wide angel sleeves. On her shoulders rests a cloak as blue as the night with stars embroidered with gold thread. She curtseys yet does not utter a word. Faramir reaches a hand towards her but she does not take it. Instead, she advances into the room and occupies the open stool.

Boromir’s eyes widen.

‘That is Mother’s cloak. I recognise it.’

‘Yes, well… That is an important detail of what I mean to tell you,’ Faramir steers the conversation again. He eyes the woman for a split second, taking in a deep breath. ‘Boromir, this is Éowyn.’

‘The White Lady of Rohan,’ the wounded reflects pensively. ‘I thought I recognised your face. Anyway, what about it?’

Éowyn laces her fingers with Faramir’s as a silent encouragement. They do not need to speak for Boromir to understand the nature of their announcement. It is already clear as day. His mouth opens and closes, and he stares wide-eyed at his younger brother.

‘Éowyn and I are getting married,’ Faramir says at last, tears of joy glistening in his eyes as he beholds his beloved.

‘Absolutely not!’

The pair snaps their heads towards him, incredulous.

‘Care to explain?’ Éowyn grunts.

‘Faramir,’ Boromir starts, still puzzling his thoughts into order as they collide and slip out of his grasp, ‘do you not remember her from the few times we visited Edoras? She was insufferable, dreaming of becoming a shieldmaiden and hitting everything that moved with her toy sword. Including myself. Including you.’

His younger brother scoffs.

‘She was a child. She has grown out of it.’

‘Oh, has she now?’ Boromir continues, readjusting his position against the pillows behind him with a grimace. ‘Do you think I am daft and that I think that her presence here is natural? I have heard of a Rohirric woman who disguised herself as a man to fight our battle. She is disobedient, ungrateful, and she put many in danger by doing so!’

‘Do not speak to me as if I were not here,’ the Rohir protests, glaring at the man Faramir has told her so much about in the most positive manner. Right now, she does not see the same qualities in him as Faramir does.

‘My apologies, princess,’ Boromir forces a snarky smile. ‘But I stand by what I said; you put all your men and our own in danger by your being here.’

Faramir bites back the tears and uses all his strength to refrain from lashing out at his brother out of indignation. Of all people in the realm, he expected Boromir to understand and support his choice. If he is happy, why should he oppose it?

Éowyn, on the other hand, does not hesitate to defend herself.

‘I took care of Merry throughout our journey to Minas Tirith and prepared him for the battle,’ she states matter-of-factly.

‘Oh. B-But that does not mean tha—’

‘He and I took down the Witch King of Angmar by ourselves.’

‘You wh…?’

‘And I love Faramir.’

Upon seeing the conflict in his otherwise hostile eyes, Éowyn smirks.

‘And do not think that I have forgotten your diplomatic visits to my city, Captain. I still remember where your eyes went most of the time. If you give us your blessing, I could pay my cousin, Théodred, a visit and put in a good word for you.’

Boromir remains silent for a long moment. Faramir furrows his brow and glances towards his fiancée, wondering what on Arda her words could mean. His older brother inspects the young lady from head to toe multiple times, deciding whether he can trust her. Instead, he turns abruptly to Faramir.

‘I like her. Marry her.’

Dividers by @pixopix