Chapter 18: The end of change

Faramir sat on a bench, reveling in the sunlight. He had managed to elude Boromir long enough to limp slowly out onto the terrace. It had taken him longer than he had thought, even with his cane by his side. He placed his left hand carefully in his lap. He had just had it taken out of a sling, but it was still well-bandaged. The healing was going painfully slowly, but at least he no longer looked like a piece of ground meat; his worst bruises had faded to dull yellow, and the cuts and gashes were mostly raised pink lines now. The worst had been waiting for his ribs to set; it was what had kept him in bed for the past month. Everything was "back to normal", whatever that meant. In some ways, it felt like he had never been gone; his father was still distant and isolated; Boromir had been attentive for a while, but Faramir could already feel the strain of the rest of his life breaking into the bond between them. Faramir was very good and judging the stress in a relationship: for much of his life, his physical safety had depended on it.

At first it had seemed odd really, that nothing had changed. Then Faramir had realized, without much surprise, that he should never have expected it to. Circumstances change; people don't change. Once you restore the normal circumstance, you restore the people to normal. Deep down, he knew he himself had not changed either. Sure, he had a lot more scars now and an uneven number of digits, but he was no better or worse off than he had been before now. It made him wonder really, what the point of it all had been. When you balanced out the results, all that had changed was that some people had died so that he could go on living. It didn't seem fair really. Just because they were bad people, their lives weren't worth less than his, yet they had all died over him. His brother and Gandalf had almost died over him. And what had been accomplished? He was still alive, but to what end? To be killed by some orc in the next skirmish attempting to hold back the sea with a mop? No, it wasn't fair, but it was what had happened, and, as usual, he would accept that. Acceptance seemed to be his role in life; accept it and move on, that's what he was told. So that's what he did, and that's what he would continue doing until he would have to accept his death. It was somewhat comforting, this dull certainty: to know you will never change, and you cannot change anything. He only hoped his life would not be as dull as his acceptance.

Boromir checked his speedy pace. Through the double doors flung wide to spring he could see Faramir sitting on the bench, staring off into the distance. Boromir resisted the urge to rush over and drag him back to his bed and his nurse. But he knew that, even if he really wanted to, he could never do that now. As much as he hated to accept it, he knew his little brother was a grown man, now more than ever. The look in his eyes had changed; he had been far from innocent before all this had happened, but something else had been altered within him: he was hardened. He had come to fully and intimately understand what it was they were fighting in the world. Boromir leant against the doorframe. He remembered when that look had entered his own eyes; he had hoped it would never happen to Faramir. Once you became hardened, the line blurred; the distinction between good and evil was not so distinct anymore: it was relative. What those people had done to Faramir they had thought to be for the good; what he had done to save Faramir he thought to be for the good; every battle for both sides in this war was thought to be for good. It all resulted in something being lost; some good part of everything. And now Faramir knew it too. Some things were better not known. Boromir had not told Faramir about Ade- about their sister. Even if his perception of the world had changed, his perception of his family should not. No one should ever have to think ill of his family. Faramir turned at that moment and spotted Boromir. He smiled slightly, and lifted a hand. Boromir gestured back. He felt suddenly sad, like he had lost something. The smile was different; it had a forced quality, a certain feeling of inevitably ending, and becoming another frown. He had hoped things would never change; and now, everything was different.

Faramir watched Boromir smiling back at him, Boromir his rock; Boromir his safety net. Boromir had always tried to shelter him from the big bad world outside, the way a big brother should. He was still doing it right now, smiling like nothing bad would ever happen. Faramir had seen that smile so many times, it almost seemed true. Yes, nothing had changed, and nothing ever would.

Fin

Final note: Wow, I can't believe this is over. I have been working on this for SO long. I hope it came out as well as I wanted it to. I am so glad you all loved it so much, and I promise it will not be so long before I come up with the next new thing this time. Thank you all for all your reviews!