Stories of Arda Home Page
About Us News Resources Login Become a member Help Search

Not for a Moment  by IceAngel

~Not for a Moment~

The library was always quiet at this time in the morning. It was Faramir's preferred time to read. Later in the afternoon, old men and scholars would come to improve their knowledge. They would give him scornful looks and whisper amongst themselves when he passed. Yes, the morning was the only time.

Faramir slowly made his way up the ancient staircase to the second floor. He ran his hand over the carved banister, wondering about the hundreds of people who might have done the very same thing before him. He passed lines of bookshelves and tables piled high with yellowed parchments until he came to his corner.

 The morning light shine brightly through the small window as Faramir settled himself down against the wall. There was something magical about this spot, or that was the only way he could describe it. A bookcase jutting out from the wall hid the little sunlit corner from the rest of the dusty library. It was the window that had first attracted him. It gave a fine view down to one of the smaller courtyards where a lawn of bright green grass surrounded a fountain. It was kind of an amusement to Faramir to watch the passers by below him. Some would pass quickly, oblivious to the quiet beauty of the place, but others would pause, admiring the fountain and listening to the sound of its water.

 Faramir was in a dreamy mood, content to watch the sunny day pass and enjoy what little peace was left to him.

 Below him, two young girls passed into the courtyard. Arm in arm, they giggled and laughed out loud. They were under-servants, house maids most likely, wearing simple dresses.

 But there was so much life about them! The young women who were brought to the palace were always so stern and solemn. Nervous, Faramir suspected, but it was so refreshing to see happiness and laughter.

 Denethor had not come down from his room that morning, so thankfully Faramir had been spared the ordeal of a formal breakfast. With Boromir away in Rohan, meals were little more than a torment. The palace seemed grim and depressing without Boromir's presence, he was away so much now that Faramir barely saw him.

 He focused his attention away from himself once more, there was no point dwelling on it. He smiled as one of the girls below kicked off her shoes and ran laughing to the fountain.

 "I see your choice of entertainment has matured while I was away."

 Faramir turned at once, startled by the voice behind him. Boromir grinned down at him, following Faramir's line of sight to the girls in the courtyard below. Faramir scrambled to his feet, blushing furiously.

 "I always told you books were nothing to real life, Faramir," Boromir said, "and now you have finally discovered it for yourself!"

"Boromir!" Faramir reached out and gripped his brother's hand with both of his own. "You are home again, and so soon!" He was truly pleased, despite rather embarrassing manner of his brother's return.

 "I can now forgive the people of Rohan their boasting," Boromir said, drawing Faramir away from the corner and towards the stairs, "the Rohirim truly breed horses that ride like the wind! I returned much earlier than expected"

 "Did all go well? Did you meet with the king? And the palace, what was it like?

 "One question at a time!" Boromir laughed. "I can see you must have missed me. The court of Edoras may be grand, but nothing can compare with Minas Tirith!" Boromir puffed out his chest proudly, and Faramir smiled . He had expected nothing less from his brother.

 "Might that be because Minas Tirith is your home?" Faramir asked, smiling.

 "Certainly not! King Theoden himself praised our halls."

 "And was all your time spent organising treaties?"

 "A great deal certainly. But I found just enough time to fight a duel with the son of the first marshal of the Mark!" Boromir's eyes brightened with the memory. "Eomer by name, and a valiant warrior!"

 "Let me guess who provoked this duel," he raised his eyebrows, knowing all too well his brother's fondness for competition.

 Boromir laughed, "you know me too well. I played my part. But it was Eomer's sister who forced me into the confrontation. 'No warrior of Gondor,' she declared, 'could ever match a Rohirim in clean battle.'"

 "And you had to prove her wrong," Faramir prompted.

 "As you yourself would have done," Boromir replied readily.

 "Do I detect a hint of admiration for this fair maiden of Rohan?" Faramir teased, watching Boromir's cheeks grow red.

 "Do not speak of the Lady Eowyn so!" he exclaimed, "She is fair, certainly, with hair the colour of gold. But I suspect she is just as fierce a warrior as her brother. The one who gains her heart will be a remarkable man, indeed."

 "And so you fought to prove your worth to her."

 "I would never have taken the risk of battling Eomer on horseback," Boromir went on, ignoring the previous statement, "But I felt sure I could best him with my sword."

 "He comes from a noble bloodline of warriors," Faramir said solemnly. "I condole with you for your loss." He could hardly keep himself from laughing as Boromir rounded on him, his eyes wide.

 "Faramir!" Boromir exclaimed, offended at Faramir's apparent lack of faith in him. "*I* won!"

 Faramir laughed when Boromir's incredulous expression changed into one of understanding. He shook his head, realising Faramir had only been teasing. Faramir laughed again as they passed out of the library. "I never doubted you for a moment."





        

        

Leave Review
Home     Search     Chapter List