Title: Guidance
Author: Lorielen Pairing: Boromir/Faramir
Rating: PG
Summary: Boromir comes to his little brother as he lay feverishly on the Houses of Healing.
AN: for Nadia, as promised. Hope you like it! ^^

Faramir lay feverishly in a bed at Gondor Houses of Healing during the last stage of the Great Ring Wars. He mumbled and yelled at times, body convulsing at the foul dreams that haunted him.
Until one night, the starry night that followed the victory of the defences of Minas Tirith, when a smile radiating sheer joy took his sickly pale features. No one was there to see it.

Inside his eyelids, Faramir saw with his heart’s eye; and what his heart presented him with was the smiling figure of his brother.

“Boromir!”

He felt his body melt boneless in his brother’s familiar, ever affectionate and much needed embrace. He questioned not whether had his beloved kin passed away, or if he himself dwelled still on the world of Living. His heart was his brother’s, and either place without Boromir offered little comfort or joy.

“I’m so happy to see you.” A whisper, for he didn’t trust his voice.
“So am I, Little brother.” A chaste kiss to the top of his head, and his elder pulled back to look in his eyes. “But I’m only here to guide you back.”
“NO! The war was won and the King has returned, I have no reason to be anywhere but by your side.”

Faramir absently reasoned that he probably wouldn’t have been half as blunt or childish, weren’t his brother deceased and himself on that very borderline.
He felt comfortably small when Boromir chuckled.

“Enjoy your well-earned glory, love and respect. You are, have always been, the better of us both, Faramir – don’t argue.” A raised eyebrow made Faramir’s lips shut anew. “Live the glory of our beloved Gondor.”

Boromir’s thumb caressed his brother’s chin tenderly and his smile was warm. Faramir found himself drinking in the craved presence, and he suffocated a whimper when his brother’s lips brushed against his forehead.

“Be happy and beautiful for me.”
“I can’t, without you.” Tiredness weighted in his nearly voiceless plea.
“I’ll be with you. Look not for me in the stars, though; those are for the Elves.”
“Where shall I look, then?”
“Here, Little brother.”

Boromir’s fingers pressed against his chest, softly, unfelt through his armor.

“In your heart as well as the white tree, I’ll always be.”

Faramir let his chin remain lowered in defeat, for he knew he could not deny a wish of his brother’s, even if it was to draw them apart. He couldn’t help but seek Boromir’s gaze with his own, when a finger gently ushered his chin upwards.

“Farewell, Faramir.”

The feel of his brother’s lips against his own lingered through the uncomfortable return to his spent body, and when Faramir opened his eyes, he looked not around or out of the window; instead, with the slowness of the wounded, he brought his hand to rest atop his heart, and smiled.