String Rhapsody 
Written by Alaina27 June 2005 | 5299 words
Pairing: Faramir/Lindir
To: Brat-Princess
"Get out of my sight."
Faramir rolled his eyes at the familiar words. "Yes, Father." He turned to leave the hall, sharing a look with his brother.
"I mean it this time."
Holding back the sigh that threatened to break loose, Faramir turned back to his father. "What?"
"I mean it this time, Faramir. I am sick of your excuses. I want you gone from the city by daybreak tomorrow."
A look of panic slipped across Faramir's face. "But Father-"
"By daybreak, Faramir," Denethor repeated. "And I will not have you running to Osgiliath. I want you out of the country. Out of Gondor."
"Where will I go?" Faramir asked quietly, his voice devoid of emotion.
A cruel smirk settled across Denethor's face. "I care not. Why not go to the elves? I hear Elrond's people in Rivendell are always welcoming of the mortal kind. Just see to it that you are gone ere the sun rises."
"Yes Father," Faramir whispered, his voice threatening to break. As he quickly left the room, he could hear Boromir begin to argue with their father, but took no heed. Pushing quickly past the men guarding the citadel, he raced for his room before tears spilled over his eyes and left him with no dignity at all. He slammed his door behind him and threw his fist against the wall. Sinking back against the cool stone, he took a deep shaky breath, cradling his head against his drawn up knees.
A knock came at the door. "Lord Faramir?"
He ignored it, not wanting to be seen. He had almost reached his sixteenth year and was far too old for this ridiculous sort of behaviour.
Unfortunately, he had a very persistent knocker.
"My Lord Faramir? Are you within?"
Equally determined to ignore the intruder, Faramir rose to his feet, wiping his cheeks dry. He pulled out a travel bag and began stuffing clothes into it at a rapid rate, sniffling as he did so. Ignoring the steady knocking, he reached into he bedside table, pulling out his mother's locket.
"Lord Faramir, please open your door."
"Here, let me," offered a more familiar voice. Faramir quickly wrapped the locket in a shirt and dropped it in his bag as Boromir called out, "Faramir, open the door, else I'll have to break through it myself."
Sighing softly, Faramir opened the door to find Boromir with his face pressed against the door, trying to see his brother through the crack. "Ah, see? That was not so hard." He turned to the older man clothed in the colours of Gondor, who had hammered at Faramir's door for so long. "Thank you, we will no longer be requiring your services."
"But-"
"No, thank you, that's quite alright, no, thank you, good-bye." He shut the door in the flustered man's face. Faramir gave half a giggle that caught in his throat and turned to a choked sob. Boromir walked over to his brother, hugging him and holding him tightly for nearly a quarter of an hour as he sobbed.
Finally, Faramir pulled back, hiccoughing and looking embarrassed. "I'm sorry."
"'Tis alright, little brother. You are still young. Do not be in such a hurry to grow up."
Rolling his eyes, Faramir pushed his hair out of his face. It really was too long, but he refused to cut it, swearing it gave him a 'mysterious' look that the women loved. Boromir laughed at him, but he had a girl in his room nearly every night while Boromir rarely ever did. Despite himself, Faramir grinned. "That's easy for you to say. You've been fighting from the time you were in swaddling clothes. No wonder you never have any women. You bore them with your war stories. I, on the other hand, was brought up like a proper man. Who will teach you about women if I'm gone?" They both laughed.
"You'll be alright," Boromir said. "You'll be home before you realize. You know how fickle Father is. He'll have forgotten by the end of the week. And I promise, the instant he changes his mind, I'll come for you."
"That's going to be a bit of a problem, as I'm not sure where I'll be."
"Go to Rivendell," Boromir suggested, stretching out comfortably on the bed. He grinned. "I hear there are many beautiful elf girls."
Faramir laughed, and then realized his brother was serious. "But... 'tis so far."
Boromir shrugged. "'Tis your decision, of course. But why not use this as an opportunity?" He sat up, looking at Faramir gravely "There may come a day when all we know has changed beyond recognition." Then he grinned again. "Take your time. Enjoy what you see. Give my love to the pretty elf girls."
And so it was that Faramir was sitting atop his horse in the predawn grey, preparing for the city gate to open. A gaggle of girls were standing by the fountain, holding flowers and shivering as Boromir fed them some story about saving the elves. Glancing once more toward the citadel, Faramir leapt off his horse and walked toward them.
"Oh Faramir!" Laurel cried, throwing her arms around his neck. "Don't go."
Grinning crookedly at his brother, Faramir kissed the top of her head. "I have to, love."
"You won't forget me?"
"Of course not."
All the girls sighed, and Boromir laughed. "The gates are opening."
Faramir glanced over his shoulder to verify the statement, saluted his brother, and walked toward his horse.
"I'll take care of them for you," Boromir called.
Faramir glanced back, tossed back his hair, and winked. One of the girls swooned. Laughing, Faramir leapt on his horse and galloped across Pelennor Fields.
Faramir shivered as he led his horse through the snow. He had left early in September, but now doubted that he would make it to Rivendell before January. It had begun to snow heavily; it was past knee-high, and he was completely lost.
"Go to Rivendell," he muttered. "Go, have fun. Visit the elves while I stay here and steal your girls." His horse snorted. "I know. We should have stopped in Rohan." Faramir glanced warily at the steadily darkening sky. "And we've no chance of starting a fire. We'll have to keep going through the night." His horse snorted again, obviously not very pleased with this idea. "I know. But what other choice have we?"
But he was stopped from further contemplation by a commanding voice.
"Daro!"
Faramir had no idea what that meant, but decided that the voice probably wanted him to stop. So he did. From the trees a man came toward him. As he drew closer, Faramir realized this was no man, but an elf. His ebony hair was pulled back and he was significantly slimmer that Faramir, despite being quite a bit taller. His eyes were a cold grey, as were his light clothing and cloak. Faramir couldn't help being envious of his apparent stamina against the cold. Then he realized the elf was speaking to him in another language.
"Tolo s". Man eneth lÓn? Pedich I lam edhellen?"
"I'm sorry," Faramir stammered. "I don't understand."
The elf abruptly switched to Faramir's tongue. "Why have you come to the borders of Rivendell? What business have you with the elves?"
"The borders of Rivendell?" Faramir repeated. "Then I have nearly arrived."
"The waters of the Bruinen are just past those trees. But they will not suffer an enemy to pass. What is your business with us?"
"I don't understand. I am Faramir, son of Denethor. My brother should have sent a messenger."
At his words, another elf seemed to appear out of nowhere, identical in image and stature. While they spoke quickly in Elvish, Faramir stared at them in awe. "There are two of you," he muttered, wondering if the cold had perhaps done him worse harm than originally thought.
The first elf turned to him. He bowed low and when he stood straight again, there was a slight twinkle in his eyes. "Welcome, Faramir, son of Denethor. We did indeed receive your message, but expected you nearly a month ago. We assumed you had stopped elsewhere. I am Elladan, and this foul creature is my brother, Elrohir."
Despite his misery, Faramir laughed. Their teasing reminded him of his own brother.
Elladan grinned at him. "If you'd like to follow us, we shall lead you into Imladris with no more mishap."
As Elrohir stepped over to help him with his load, Elladan grinned again. "It has been far too long ere Estel was a child."
Faramir, suddenly growing sleepy as he felt more at ease, struggled to defend himself. "I'm not a child," he insisted. "I've nearly reached my sixteenth year."
"Ah," Elrohir spoke for the first time. "But you must realize, we've been alive for nearly three millennia. Suddenly sixteen years is not so much." He turned to his brother. "You troll. Help me carry these things."
"Oh, I'm sure you can manage," Elladan laughed. "Besides, we need a leader!"
As he raced off ahead, Elrohir rolled his eyes and turned to Faramir. "You mustn't pay him any mind. The idea of having another child around is thrilling- he's been in a foul mood ever since Estel decided he wanted to 'experience life on his own'."
Faramir yawned as they trudged through the snow. "Who is Estel?"
Elrohir proceeded to tell him all about Estel as they covered the rest of the distance to Rivendell. By the time they'd arrived, Faramir was falling asleep on his feet. The only thing he remembered was a flash of white hair, leading him to a warm bed.
When Faramir woke the next morning, he kept his eyes closed and stretched out beneath the warm comforter. It felt so nice to be back in a real bed again, and for a moment he thought he was back home. Then he realized that he wasn't, and a wave of homesickness washed over him. Keeping his eyes closed, he rolled over, trying to go back to sleep. But he'd never been able to go back to sleep like that, so he resigned himself to his fate and opened his eyes.
His room wasn't huge, but it was probably bigger than the closet he lived in at home. The bed was in the center, with draperies hanging down from above although they were currently pulled back. The room was furnished in deep mahogany with a wardrobe on one side and full- length windows on the other.
Before he had the chance for further observations, the door flew open and one of the dark haired elves from before came in. Faramir got out of the bed, then blushed as the elf stared appreciatively at his bare chest. Self-consciously, Faramir crossed his arms. The elf grinned at him. "You are quite handsome," he purred. Faramir gaped at him. "But come! Elrohir is bringing clothes for you. You cannot go to the festivals clothed as you are."
"Festivals?" Faramir repeated. He was still quite sleepy and his mind, trying to decipher why Elladan had been staring at him in such a way, was having difficulty keeping up.
"Aye. 'Tis nearly Yule."
"But it isn't yet."
Elladan grinned at him. "But we must celebrate its coming as well."
"In my city, my father only allows celebrations on the actual day."
"Well, your father must be a terrible stick." He winked at Faramir. "Begging your pardon, of course." As Faramir stuttered for a response, Elladan moved to look down the hall. "Elrohir! Would you kindly stop dallying?"
"Perhaps," his twin huffed, "Had you not left me with all the burden, I could be quicker." He came into the room bearing a pile of clothes nearly as tall as himself and set them down on the desk by the door. He grinned at Faramir and then eyed him in much the same way his brother had before saying something in Elvish. He turned to Elladan. "Is he not, gwanur?"
Unnerved by the other language, Faramir cleared his throat. "Are all these for me?"
"Yes," Elrohir confirmed. "For the festival. Hurry and change!"
Faramir grabbed some clothes then looked around the room. "Where?" he asked, hoping they didn't expect him to change before them.
Elrohir grinned, obviously catching his discomfort. "In your bathing chamber, through that door." He pointed with a golden-sleeved arm to the door Faramir hadn't noticed on the other side of the wardrobe. He moved to go in, then looked back at them in disbelief.
"My own, private bathing chamber?"
"But of course!" Elladan laughed. "The son of Denethor must be used to such luxuries. We want him to feel at home."
Faramir snorted. "His eldest son, perhaps. Boromir probably is treated with such respect. I, on the other hand, live in a closet."
"A closet?" Elrohir repeated. "Surely you exaggerate."
Faramir shook his head vehemently, hair flying. "No. I really do not mind though. ´Tis far more cozy, should I have... company."
Elladan's eyebrow rose at the inflection in his voice. As Faramir ducked into the bathing chamber, he turned to his twin, grinned, and called out, "Let us know should you need help."
Faramir didn't need help, and before long was back in the room, fidgeting as the twins insisted upon braiding his hair in a manner similar to theirs. They ignored his protests and laughed as his stomach growled hungrily.
"Please hurry," Faramir whined, more because it seemed he should be complaining that out of actual annoyance.
Fortunately, it wasn't long before they proclaimed him finished and he left the room, escorted by a blue-clothed Elladan on his right and a gold-clothed Elrohir on his left. AS they walked through an open stone hall, Faramir was surprised to realize that the sun was already far into the west and nearly set.
"How long have I slept?" he asked in incredulity.
"Ere we brought you in last night," Elladan answered.
Faramir was going to ask more, but they pulled him into a hall. It was full of elves, laughing and singing, and just sitting around looking beautiful. Faramir, however, barely noticed them, as he was too busy staring at the table heavily laden with food. Elladan had immediately run off to speak with another elf, but Elrohir had lingered behind. Catching sight of Faramir's face, he laughed.
"Go ahead."
Faramir stared at him. "Are you certain? Should we not wait for your father?"
"Ada?" Elrohir repeated. "Whatever for?"
"Well, because..." Faramir's stomach won over. "Never mind."
He had only just eaten his fill when Elladan returned, taking the place of Elrohir, who had disappeared. "Tolo s"! I want you to meet someone." Without giving him a chance to protest, Elladan pulled him off. Faramir felt vaguely nervous. "Avo 'osto," Elladan said.
"What?" Faramir asked, but Elladan had stopped before three elves. Two had black hair and one had blond. The blond was dressed in robes of teal, the first brunet all in black, and the other, who bore a remarkable resemblance to the twins, in purple.
"Ada, this is Faramir," Elladan said, addressing the one in purple. "Faramir, this is Erestor, Glorfindel, and my father, Lord Elrond."
Faramir's eyes widened as he was presented with the Lord of Rivendell, but they all smiled kindly at him. "GÓl sÓla erin l° govaded mÓn," Elrond said.
"Er... thank you?" Faramir answered, hoping he hadn't been insulted.
Glorfindel laughed. "What Elrond is trying to say, were he not also trying too hard to be impressive, is welcome to Rivendell."
Faramir still looked something like a lost puppy dog, so Elladan rescued him. "Come, let's find Elrohir." Dragging Faramir off once more, they returned tot he food. "Tell me," Elladan requested. "How would you spend your first night in Rivendell?" His voice was filled with undertones and implications, and Faramir grinned.
"How about a pretty girl?"
"A girl?!" Elladan made a face. "What do you need a girl for?"
"Tell me you do not truly need me to explain that to you."
"No. I just do not understand why you would wish for a girl when-" Elladan cut himself off. "Ah, forget it. You are still young and have much to learn."
Faramir looked at him, not understanding, but left it alone.
"Elladan!" one of the elves called. "Tolo, mado a sogo en mereth!" Elladan looked over and laughed.
"I will return shortly," he told Faramir. "You will b alright?"
Faramir nodded, taking a swig of wine as Elladan left. He looked around the hall, content with watching silently. A flash of white hair caught his eye. There was an elf off in a corner, back to Faramir, laughing with another. Faramir tried to think why this seemed so odd, and then realized: while there were several blond elves present, their hair all held hues of silver or gold. He had never before seen an elf with pure white hair.
Lord Elrond called out, "Trenerich I narn," and the elf turned, though still not enough for Faramir to see. Elladan returned and Faramir turned to him. "Who is that elf over there?" He pointed.
"That is Lindir. He is a minstrel: my father's favourite."
Faramir looked startled. "He?"
"Yes," Elladan answered, watching the boy carefully.
"Oh." Faramir knew it was wrong, thinking about a male in that way. But as Lindir took his place and began to sing, Faramir couldn't tear his eyes away. Everything about this elf: the white hair, blue eyes, fair features and pouty lips were beautiful. And the singing! It enchanted him until all he could think about was claiming those lips with his own.
Faramir set down his goblet heavily, deciding he had had far too much to drink. "Will you excuse me?" he asked Elladan. "It's growing late, and I am still quite fatigued from my travels."
"Of course," Elladan agreed, still watching him. "Would you like me to escort you to your room?"
"No, I'm sure I can find my way," Faramir said. The room suddenly felt entirely too hot, and he left quickly. The cold air outside calmed him down and he slowly made his way back to his room where he fell sleep immediately.
When Faramir woke up next, sun was streaming through the windows and warming his face. He remembered hearing that elvish wine was incredibly potent and decided that was the reason for his curious thoughts the night before. Sighing happily, Faramir rolled over.
And discovered one of the twins sitting in a chair watching him.
"Na vedui!" he proclaimed. "We thought you would never wake."
"We?" Faramir repeated. Mornings were never his best time.
The other twin came out of the bathing chamber, laughing. "How can you sleep so long?"
Faramir rubbed his eyes sleepily and glared at them. "Do you always do that?"
"Do what?" asked the first one.
"Sneak into people's bedchamber while they're still asleep."
"You are lucky," said the other. "Usually we get into bed with them as well."
Faramir wasn't sure if he should believe him or not. "I see... er... why are you here?"
"Oh, right!" said the first one. "See, Elladan. I knew we'd forgotten something." He turned to Faramir. "We have decided that since you apparently have some... outstanding issues with your father, we're going to make you worthy of everything."
"Meaning what, exactly?"
"We plan to teach to fight like an elf."
"And sing," Elladan added, a glint in his eyes.
"Uh... all... right..."
And for the next while, that's what they did. For days they trained him in the ways of the elves, and he met many different people. Elves. You get it. He wasn't sure how long it went of for... a couple weeks at least... when Elladan met him up one morning with a smirk on his face.
"What?" Faramir asked, full of suspicion.
"What do you mean, 'what'?" Elladan asked, his voice full of injury.
"You're planning something," Faramir accused.
Elladan grinned. "Perhaps."
"Well what is it?"
"Remember when we said we were going to make you worthy of everything? "
"Yes."
"Even singing?"
Faramir burst out laughing. "You are not going to teach me to sing. Believe me, 'tis not possible. I've tried."
"Well, perhaps this teacher will give you certain... inspiration."
Faramir stared at him as the twin led him down through the maze of halls. Faramir doubted he'd ever get used to them all. They stopped in front of a door, and Elladan knocked.
"Enter," someone called from inside, and they did. Faramir stopped, startled. The white-haired elf from the festival so long ago stood inside. He looked up and smiled.
"Faramir, this is Lindir," Elladan explained, the smirk back on his face. "He's to teach you to sing. Well, I'll leave you to it." Before Faramir said anything, he was gone.
"Hello, Faramir," Lindir greeted him, shutting the door.
Faramir swallowed hard. "Hello."
As the weeks passed, he and Lindir became very good friends. While they quickly abandoned the idea of Faramir learning to sing but their friendship grew anyway. Faramir felt incredibly close to him, although he didn't completely understand why. But whenever something was bothering him, whenever he was just upset, he knew he could speak with Lindir about it.
Still, there was something odd about it all. No matter what Faramir thought was wrong, he did have to admit the Faramir was incredibly attractive. But that was all. He thought. It was only that sometimes, while he was talking to him, his mind would wander and... but there was always something to push if off as. Maybe he had had too much to drink the night before. Or he'd been working hard all day under the hot sun. Or he'd been up late the night before.
Faramir and Lindir were walking about, enjoying the winter sunset. Lindir was telling him a story, and had begun to laugh. As he watched his friend laugh, Faramir realized something. It wasn't the wine, or the sun, or the exhaustion. He was in love with Lindir.
Noting the look on Faramir's face, Lindir stopped hi story. "Faramir, are you alright?"
Faramir nodded distractedly. "Mmm. I just- I need to speak with Elrohir. Will you excuse me?"
"Of course," Lindir agreed, watching as Faramir ran off. It didn't take long before he found one of the twins.
"Elladan?" he asked. He still had difficulty telling them apart by sight alone.
"Elrohir," he corrected automatically.
"Oh good. I needed to speak with you?"
"Why? What troubles you?" Elrohir asked.
"Well, I, er..." Faramir struggled, trying to find the right words. "I think- I'm in love."
Elrohir stared at him. "But Faramir, this is a cause for celebration. Why are you so upset?"
"Because," Faramir answered intelligently, pushing his hair back violently. His voice dropped to a whisper. "It's... I'm in love with a male."
"And?"
"What do you mean, 'and'?" Faramir exploded. "This is terrible. I will be cursed and shunned!"
Elrohir placed a hand on his shoulder. "Faramir, calm down. I understand that things are different where you live, but I had no idea the extent to which they differentiate. Faramir, here, for us, loving a male is perfectly acceptable."
"Truly?" Faramir's voice came out as a small child.
"Truly. Our lives are far too long to spend with the wrong person."
"Well then, what should I do?"
"Tell him how you feel."
Faramir nodded and walked away
Lindir was about to enter his chambers when he heard Faramir's small voice call him from the shadows of the hall. He turned. "Yes, Faramir? "
"Could I speak with you for a moment?" the boy asked, looking more vulnerable than he ever had.
"But of course, mellon-nÓn."
"I, well, I'm not entirely sure how to say this..." Faramir took a deep breath as Lindir waited expectantly. "I'm in love with you."
Lindir blinked, unable to respond. He had, of course, found Faramir incredibly attractive. But to honestly think of pursuing a relationship with him... it was unthinkable. He was still so young. Decidedly, Lindir shook his head. "Faramir. This is foolish."
"Lindir," Faramir said in the same tone. Now that he'd said it, he knew what he wanted. "'Tisn't foolish. I love you."
"You are still young. You do not know what love is."
Faramir stared at him for a moment. Then he stepped forward, pushed Lindir back against the wall, and kissed him. A long, deep lingering kiss that he had wanted from the moment he had first laid eyes upon Lindir. He stepped back as they both gasped for air. "Tell me now that I do not know what love is."
When Faramir woke the next morning, for the first time in his life, he felt content. And... complete. Somehow everything felt right in the world. He sighed happily, snuggling up to Lindir. His father be damned. If Faramir was to spend the rest of his life cursed, than so be it. This could not be wrong.
Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned to months. Faramir remained in Rivendell, watching as it passed from winter to spring and then into early summer. It didn't matter that he wasn't at home. This was where he belonged. He had Lindir, he had the twins. He had all the many friends he had made. It felt right.
Faramir was walking through Rivendell, speaking casually with Glorfindel. He planned to practice archery later in the afternoon, but for now he was content to simply wander in the cool summer morning. They had just passed the main road when Glorfindel stopped, hearing something Faramir could not.
"What?" he muttered.
It was seconds before he could hear it as well, and less than a minute before he could see. A rider was galloping down the road. His figure was decidedly un-elvish and one that Faramir could recognize even from this distance.
The rider flew in the gates and leapt off his horse, his back to Glorfindel and Faramir.
"Boromir?" Faramir asked, suddenly unsure of himself, as he had not been in months. The figure turned around, strode over to Faramir, grinned, and grabbed his brother in a rough hug, doing his best to muss his brother up. "Boromir, stop!" Faramir laughed.
Boromir laughed as well, letting his brother go. "It's been too long. All of Minas Tirith misses you, although I have managed to console the maidens."
Faramir laughed harder, looking at his brother skeptically. "All of Minas Tirith?"
"Yes!" Boromir insisted. "That's why Father agreed to let you come home. There were so many complaints that he grew tired of it all."
"Come- home?" Faramir repeated haltingly, hardly daring to believe it was true.
"Yes!" Boromir yelled. "That's why I've come, you thick-skulled miscreant. To take you home."
They both started to laugh again until Glorfindel cleared his throat.
"Oh! Glorfindel, this is my brother Boromir. He's come to take me home."
Glorfindel grinned. "Thank the Valar you told me. I never would have guessed. I was just curious as to when you expect to leave."
"Tomorrow, I suppose," said Boromir, never one to put things off.
"Well, a feast must be planned for tonight. There are many who would wish to bid farewell to Faramir."
At these words, Faramir's head jerked up, his mouth moving soundlessly as Boromir joked about the idea of having a whole feast just for his little brother.
"Faramir?" Boromir asked. "Is something the matter?"
"No," Faramir muttered distractedly, shaking his head. "No, `tis nothing. I just… I must go see someone about something, I've just remembered." He raced off toward the main buildings, leaving his brother to stare after him.
Faramir raced through the halls; too preoccupied to notice when he nearly knocked Erestor over. He threw open the door to Lindir's chamber and raced inside. "Lindir?" he called out. "Lindir?" There was no answer. Faramir cursed loudly as he searched for his lover, just in case. The chamber was empty.
He ran through Rivendell, looking everywhere he could think of for the minstrel. But he hadn't been seen. Finally Faramir gave up, sitting on a small porch overlooking the water.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been there when he heard Elladan call out to him. "Faramir? We heard your brother has come for you. How your heart must sing."
"There is to be a large feast tonight in your honour," Elrohir added. "Come, we will help you prepare." Faramir ignored them, hoping they'd go away, but the twins were more stubborn than that. "Faramir?" Elrohir persisted. "What troubles you?"
"I can't find Lindir," Faramir whispered, his voice broken. "I've been searching all day, but I know not where he is."
"Oh Faramir, I am certain he is somewhere," Elladan assured him.
Faramir continued to stare over the water. "What if he is not? What if I never get to say good-bye?"
"Of course you will. I expect he will be at the feast. Now come. You want to look your best." Giving in, Faramir rose to his feet, letting the twins take him to his room, then the feast. Though many came to say their good- byes, Lindir was not among them.
Sighing, Faramir turned to Boromir. "If we plan to leave tomorrow, I must take some rest." Things had begun to settle down, and Faramir felt exhausted. Boromir nodded, bidding him goodnight, and Faramir left the room. He walked down the hall with eyes half closed and without realizing it, went to Lindir's room instead of his own. Instantly he woke up as he found Lindir standing before him.
"Where were you?" he asked, his voice accusatory and hurt.
Lindir sighed. "Faramir…"
"I came to speak with you, but you were not here."
"Oh yes? And what was it you wished to speak of?"
Lindir moved around the pristine room, straightening the bedclothes, the pillows, anything he could find. Faramir took a deep breath. "Come with me."
Lindir dropped the pillow he was holding. "What? I…" he exhaled slowly, composing himself. "Faramir, I cannot do that."
"Then I'll stay!" Faramir declared. "I have no desire to leave you."
"Even if it means sacrificing your home?" The words were bitter.
"Even then."
"Faramir, do not be so foolish!" Lindir still refused to meet his eyes.
Feeling like a child, Faramir sat on the bed and grabbed Lindir's hands, forcing eyes contact before he could pull away. Lindir, I don't wish to be anywhere you're not. You mean everything to me. I cannot go back to the life I had before. I love you."
"And I love you," Lindir whispered. He knelt on the bed, holding Faramir for several long moments. And for that time, everything was perfect for Faramir. "But Faramir, we cannot love one another."
"Why?" Faramir asked, his voice, thick with tears, coming out like a pitiful child.
"I am immortal, and you are not. You will die, and I will go on living and… it will simply be better for all if you leave and don't look back and forget me."
"I can't forget you," Faramir whispered. Lindir lay back on the bed, holding Faramir and singing softly to him until he was drowsy with sleep. "Don't leave me," he whispered.
When Faramir awoke, light was streaming through the window, and the birds were singing. He was alone. Biting his lip, Faramir left the room, knowing in his heart that he would not see Lindir again.
And hour later, he and Boromir were waiting on impatient horses as the twins re-examined the saddlebags. With a final farewell they galloped off. Looking back at the land of Imladris, which he would never again see, Faramir never noticed the white haired head watching him leave and singing a soft good- bye.
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