Fo.A 2, June 21st, Mid-Year Celebration

Boromir blew the horn a second time, then set it back at his waist, staring at the walls now alive with movement. He and Údar sat on their horses, just out of reach of the archers should they decide to fire first and ask questions later, awaiting the arrival of the king.

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He remembered. He remembered all of it now! Aragorn raced through the streets, down every circle, towards the gates. He had come.

Aragorn saw Faramir just ahead of him standing on the walls beside the gate. "Open the gates!" shouted Aragorn, stopping short of the gate as it began to swing inwards. His heart was thrumming in his chest, mind swimming as he saw the two figures sitting on their horse not too far off.

Faramir joined him, confusion visible on his face. "What in the name of Ecthelion is going on?" he asked. "Who are they?"

"My horse!" Aragorn commanded, then turned to Faramir. "In truth, I do not fully know. He came to me in a vision, and it was he who had suggested that I look into Dalion's estate."

Faramir looked at him as if he'd lost his mind, but Aragorn insisted. "He also told me to look for a letter, one I just received today!"

At that moment a soldier brought Aragorn and Faramir's horses; fifteen guards were already mounted and ready to ride out with them.

Aragorn lept into the saddle as the crowds gathered around them and beckoned to Faramir as he started riding. "Ride out with me, and let us see if what I say is true."

Faramir obeyed his king's command and climbed atop his horse and spurred it to catch up.

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Boromir's stomach was twisted into a hard knot as he watched the gates open and two figures riding towards them, guards flanked on either side.

He knew without Údar telling him who they were: Aragorn, looking every inch the king Boromir had known him to be before the end; and his little brother, Faramir. He seemed to have changed very little, save that his temperament was reserved than it had been growing up.

Boromir was thankful for the hood that covered his face in spite of the night quickly closing in around them. He had waited years for this moment and had gone through so so much to here, and now...now he was afraid. What if he was not accepted back? What if his brother refused to see him?

The questions continued to assault his mind as Boromir shot a quick glance at Údar. He sat casually in the saddle, straight-backed, shoulders squared, eyes fixed on the men riding to meet them. Aside from Aragorn, this man was someone he admired and sought to be like.

Within minutes of sounding the horn, Aragorn and Faramir sat on their mounts just a couple of yards away from them.

"Hail, Elessar, High King of Gondor! Hail, Faramir, Steward of the king," boomed Údar, giving the Gondorian salute.

"Who are you, that you sound horns below our walls at nightfall?" demanded Aragorn, feigning anger and annoyance.

Údar's lips tugged into a smirk. "You know full well who I am, My Lord," replied Údar, calling Aragorn's bluff.

"How dare you address your king in such a way," Faramir growled.

Údar turned his keen eyes to Faramir. "He is not my king," he replied coolly.

The air became tense as Faramir and the guards' hands went to their swords, but Aragorn waved a hand. "Peace! This is no foe," he said sternly. He looked at Údar, his own sharp gaze studying the man. "I remember you, and that you said that you would come."

Údar nodded. "I also promised to bring you a helper." He motioned to his right. "And here he is."

Both Aragorn and Faramir looked at the hooded figure who had remained silent. Aragorn could see that he was a tall man, a man of strength. He eyed the silver horn resting at the man's side, and Aragorn's eyes widened. "How came you by that horn, stranger?"

"Through death and many perils," replied a familiar voice.

No! It cannot be! Thought Aragorn.

"Who are you?" barked Faramir, his face stricken.

The stranger heaved a deep sigh as they lifted their hood. "It is I, baby brother," Boromir responded, flipped the hood all the way back.

Faramir let out a cry of alarm, and Aragorn's jaw went slack. His eyes must be deceiving him, it could not be the Boromir he knew, for that man had died.

Boromir eased himself off his horse, took four long strides, then knelt down before Aragorn. "I come back to offer my sword and skills to you, my king," he recited like he had practiced.

Aragorn looked at this ghost from the past, then up to Údar questioningly, and Údar gave a single nod in answer.

Aragorn looked back at Boromir, who was still kneeling, awaiting his king's command. He swung down from his horse, walked over to the man he'd watched die, and placed a hand on Boromir's shoulder. He did it partly because that is what was required of him as king when someone swore fealty; the other because he didn't trust what his eyes were seeing.

Boromir rose, looking Aragorn in the eye, giving a small smile. "There is much to discuss."

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Faramir burst through the doors of his home as if a Nazgul was behind him, shouting, "He's alive!"

Both Ninel and Eowyn jumped, and she turned to get a look at him from where she sat, slightly irritated. "What are you talking about?"

Faramir was pacing back and forth, hands in his hair, seemingly on the brink of madness. "It can't be him," was all he kept mumbling to himself.

One of Faramir's personal guards stepped into the house, a look of fear and worry on his face. "Pardon me, m'Lady," he said, voice shaking. "The reason for our Lord's behavior is because his brother is alive and on his way to the Citadel."

"But it was said that he did during the War," chimed in Ninel when Eowyn said nothing.

The guard nodded. "It was what we were told," agreed the guard.

Eowyn looked at her husband, now sitting in his chair before the hearth, then stood and walked over to grab her forest-green cloak. "I would see this for myself," she declared, striding past the guard and out into the darkening night.

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It was entirely night as Aragorn, Boromir, and Údar rode through the city in silence, the faces of the citizens gawked from their windows and doorways as they passed.

Faramir had left before they had entered the city, and Aragorn could not begin to know what might be going through his mind; Aragorn was having a hard time wrapping his mind around himself.

The only one who didn't seem bothered by anything was the mysterious man, who had yet to give Aragorn his name.

They stopped before the stairs leading up into the courtyard of the White Tree and dismounted, Údar and Boromir following behind Aragorn as they climbed up the steps.

As they emerged into the courtyard, the moon crested the far horizon, casting its light upon the tree and creating an otherworldly glow about the area.

Boromir gaped at the sight before him, for he had never seen the White Tree in bloom; tall with its silver leaves and bright white flowers adorning every branch like a star, it had an air of majesty about it that harkened back to Ages long gone.

Boromir breathed deeply and took in the aroma of the tree; 'twas as warm as lilac, sweet as honeysuckle, and as comforting as lavender. It filled him with the vigor of ten men, yet set him at peace, is he was on the banks of the Anduin listening to bird-song.

Údar placed a gentle hand on Boromir's shoulder, drawing him back to the present. Boromir nodded his thanks to his mentor but noted the smiled on the man's face, a smile that had been all too rare since he'd met him.

The trio made their way into the throne room, their boots echoing in the vast halls. Boromir slowed slightly as memory upon memory came back to him; every sight, every smell stirring up a new one. How long ago they all seemed to be.

Aragorn finally led them to his study, Údar, and Boromir both taking a seat. Aragorn offered them wine, which Boromir accepted, and Údar politely declined. Once the wine had been served, Aragorn sat down in his chair behind the desk, trying very hard not to stare at Boromir.

Several tense moments passed before Údar spoke up. It was time to get down to business. "I know you have many questions, of which I will only be able to answer in part-"

He was cut short by voices in the hall, followed by Eowyn pushing her way into the study, a guard trying to stop her, but unsure of how to do so. When he protested Eowyn sent him a withering glare and the man backed down; all the Tower Guard knew the tales of the White Lady facing, and killing, the Witch-King, and they dared not bring down her wrath on them.

Eowyn turned her attention to the two men who were now standing, bowing in respect.

"What is the meaning of this," asked Aragorn, angry that Eowyn would act in such a way.

Eowyn's eyes drilled into Boromir and Údar, though Údar met her gaze with his own steadfast stare. A battle of wills taking place amidst the silence.

"I came to see if what my husband said was true," Eowyn said in answer to Aragorn's question, not taking her eyes off of Údar.

Údar grinned. "The stories told about you do not do you justice, my lady," said Údar, breaking off the battle and conceding her the victory. He motioned to Boromir who stepped forward. "This is Boromir, son of the late Denethor," said Údar, introducing him.

Eowyn narrowed her eyes skeptically. "It was said that you were slain by three arrows," she said, voice hard. "Prove it."

"Eowyn!"

All eyes went to the door to see Faramir, red-eyed and distressed. He strode in, eyes never leaving his brother until he stood before him. "If you are my brother, answer me this," Faramir said, clearly not willing to accept what his eyes were seeing. "When I was a young boy, I had taken in a stray dog and hidden it in my room in the Citadel. What did I name it?"

Boromir laughed, shaking his head. "You never had a dog, hidden or no, because you knew Father would be furious," he replied.

Faramir made to speak, but Boromir continued. "Though I do recall the time you fancied that young maid, and I covered for you while you...showed her around the stables."

Eowyn's head jerked towards Faramir, none too pleased at this, while Faramir stared in disbelief. "Only my brother knew about that," whispered Faramir.

Boromir nodded. "As hard as it is to believe, and I have a hard time myself, it is me, baby brother," he said gently.

It all made sense, and yet it didn't. Faramir had seen his brothers body in the grey boat on the Anduin. Hadn't he?

But here he stood, the brother he'd known and loved; the man he'd idolized, fought beside, and had strived to be like. Now he was here in the flesh once more. "Brother?" The question was barely audible.

Boromir used all of his strength to keep his emotions from boiling over, but hearing those words from his little brother was the final blow to the wall he'd been trying to keep up. Boromir grabbed his brother and wrapped him up in an embrace, tears of joy falling silently.

At last, he was home.

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Boromir and Faramir are finally reunited! Woot!

Only one chapter left before we end Throne of Stone and begin Boromir's Return and find out what exactly Boromir and Údar have been up too!

We'll also have a special guest joining us in Boromir's Return :D

Have you been enjoying this story? What has been your favorite part? Favorite character? thoughts on what might happen in the future?

Comment below and let me know!

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