Part One:
It is long since all his tears have been spent and his eyes gone dry. Burning with the wish for anything to ease the ache that sits deep inside. Sleep evades him yet again tonight, when all he wishes for is to be lost once more in its numbing clasp. If only for awhile, let him forget. Erase the echoing sound of the voice that lingers on still in his head. He cannot forget, he will not let himself. Once the sound of his call fades from Faramir’s memory, he will truly be gone. That is all that remains of his love.
There is no solace in the day. Well meaning words do nothing to ease the pain. Nothing can. Faramir did not care to hear that time will heal this. Time is too foreign to him now, it will heal nothing. The pain is the only thing that tells him that he is still alive. It is a constant reminder of what was lost. And Faramir would keep the pain for that. He would endure this simply if it meant that he could have him back, if he could only have Boromir back. Then it would not matter.
He did not know how long he laid awake, nor if the vision that came to him was some delirious fantasy.
The day was warm; he could feel the sun dancing on his skin, its lavish attention that he had paid no heed to for too long now. Grass greener than any he had seen in real life tickled his skin. He stretched his body out, feeling the pull in tired muscles. He rested his head on his arms and closed his eyes, the peace of the quiet morning soothing him with practiced ease. He could his heartbeat slow, his breathing even out, feeling more comfortable than he could recall feeling in much too long.
He jumped when he felt a hand on his arm, sitting up quickly; he turned to see a man standing behind him.
“Boromir.” He didn’t even know whether he was saying the word or merely thought it into existence.
Faramir stared up into the achingly familiar eyes. His brother smiled warmly back at him and it hit home just how much he had missed that smile. The way his eyes crinkled softly at their corners, the slight almost dimple that graced one cheek. His memory could not do it justice.
“I’ve missed you.”
The soft words seemed to slide easily from Boromir’s mouth, the voice smooth and familiar. How Faramir had longed to hear that voice whispering silken words into his ear as he fell asleep, the warm body of his brother at his back.
Faramir found himself suddenly unable to speak, his throat so tight that he could not force any words through it, could barely even draw a breath. Before he even knew what he was doing, he found himself in Boromir’s arms. It felt so natural to be held once more against the body he had come to know so well, as if it was merely an extension of his own. He breathed deeply, inhaling the soft scent of the other man’s skin. He wrapped his arms even tighter around his fallen lover, holding him so tightly that it hurt but he was too afraid to let him go. He felt lips press softly to his temple, his skin warming beneath the caress.
He finally pulled back, needing to see his brother’s face once more, eyes scanning over familiar features. The lock of blond brown hair that fluttered softly across gently arched cheekbones in the warmth of the afternoon breeze, rustling the leaves of the trees that surrounded them. His eyes clear and bright as they watched the one watching him so intently, not missing one flicker of emotion that flashed across his brother’s face.
Faramir’s hand reached up slowly, suddenly hesitant to touch the other, frozen with the sudden fear that his hand would go right through the other man, that he would suddenly become nothing more than a half conjured apparition. Knowing that he could not be real, the lightest touch might send ripples through him like an image reflected from the glassy surface of a lake, and then it would just be him once more. He would be alone again.
“Touch me.”
That was all the encouragement he needed. Boromir’s skin felt just as he remembered, as though his fingers recalled every line, every contour. He didn’t think he could ever forget this. His fingers caressed the smooth skin of the proud forehead, down over the dip at the bridge of his nose, finally tracing over full lips that parted slightly at the contact.
“I’ve missed the way you feel,” Faramir said, his voice so low it was almost inaudible. “Though my fingers have not forgotten.”
Boromir reached up, his hand fitting over his brother’s, almost the same hand.
“I could never forget this,” he said softly, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of each finger. He tucked a stray lock of hair behind his brother’s ear before dropping easily to the ground.
“Sit and stay with me awhile.”
Faramir dropped down next to the other man, their bodies close enough that he could feel the warmth emanating from the other, the slight heat warming him more than the bold rays of the sun that made the air dance with its light. It seemed to have turned to spun gold around them, making the grass greener than any real grass had ever dared to be, every color was sharpened.
Neither man took any notice of the sun, the bold grass, nor even the softly firm feel of the ground beneath them, the slight moisture of the earth seeping slowly into them. Boromir didn’t let go of his brother’s hand, but let his own rest upon it, his thumb tracing over invisible lines on the gentle roughness of the skin there.
“Why did you leave me?”
The words were out of Faramir’s mouth without his even meaning to say them. They had been in his mind too long to be contained any longer, echoing endlessly in his head. The accusation repeating itself in the darkest corner of his mind, he’s gone because of you. Because you didn’t love him enough, because you weren’t enough. He knew the futility of the words, the coldly analytical voice in his head that sounded oddly like his father’s. He knew there was no answer that could make things better. It could never be that simple. Knowing this did nothing to slow the rampant betrayal of his own mind upon his senses.
Boromir breathed deeply, the silence stretching out until Faramir wasn’t sure he had merely imagined that he had spoken those words.
“I never wanted to hurt you.” He paused once more, swallowing with difficulty before he continued, “It was through my own weakness that I let you down. Believe when I say I wish that I had been able to see true.”
“You cannot blame yourself,” the words sound hollow to Faramir’s own ears, despite the sincerity they ring with in his mind.
“I do.”
Faramir looked away, concealing his face from his brother, unwilling to let him see the thoughts he knew would show in his eyes.
“This brings you grief.”
“You have brought me more grief than any other I’ve known.”
Faramir stared straight ahead as he spoke, idly plucking a few strands of grass, loosening them from the earth with careless ease.
“I am sorry my love has brought you so much pain.”
“Do not be. I have loved you beyond any other. It is you that graces my mind every moment of the day, you whose memory haunts my deceitful eyes. It is you who I think of late in the night when my body yearns for another’s touch.
“You have brought me much grief, this I cannot, and would not deny. Your loss pains me more than I can understand even now.” Faramir finally turned to look at his brother, his expression that had been held carefully in check until now softening unconsciously at the look in his lover’s eyes. “But you have given me more than any other. So even though I buy this gift at such a heavy cost to my person, I would not sacrifice one moment with you, not even to give my mind ease, nor for oblivion from your memory that will not let me be.”
Boromir did not say anything but pulled his brother, his lover into his arms, falling back until Faramir’s body lay across him, his chest racked with the sobs he had held in for too long, though no tears fell from his eyes, no glistening drop fell from soft blue eyes to find its home on his brother’s chest.
Faramir clung to his brother desperately, twisting his hands into the material of his tunic so tightly he could feel the unforgiving fabric pull tight across his knuckles and bite into the softer flesh of his palm.
Faramir awoke with a start, finding his bed sheets wound around his tightly clenched fist, the skin colorless from the tension. He looked around the room, barren in the unforgiving steely light before dawn. His eyes burned, aching for the loss of the spun gossamer of the sunlight. He loosened his hand from the sheet, feeling the tightness in his chest as he wrapped his arms around his suddenly frail frame. His fingernails bit deep into his own skin at the harsh awakening of finding only himself to wrap his arms around. He needed the pain, the sharp sting, anything to try and balance out the emotions raging inside of his body, remembering the feel of his brother in his arms once more.
The dream had been so vivid, cruelly so. Faramir lay in his bed, his body rigid. His bottom lip caught between his teeth, the lightly bitter taste of his blood on his tongue. He focused everything in him on blocking the warm remnants of the bittersweet dream from his mind, unable to deal with it. He forced his mind onto what he had to accomplish this day, of all that lay ahead of him to distract himself from cruel thoughts, feeling drained of the little energy he still possessed.
With a deep sigh, he swung his body from the hollow warmth of his bed knowing that he could not bear to stay here any longer, sleep would not return to him and he could no longer ignore the taunt of the memories held in this room. He dressed hurriedly and left his room in the chill of the early morning. Knowing no other would be awake yet, he headed out to the gardens, needing the openness as he felt the walls pushing in on him this morning.