It was late, but he would not call it dark, what with the thousands of bright stars above and the torches lighting the patio from behind. Even the white tree he had planted that very morning seemed to shine behind him as he stood leaning on the wall from the courtyard, looking out over the city and the plains beyond.

Aragorn enjoyed the pleasantly cool night air as well as the view of the white city, the very feeling of being home, at last, that he hadn't truly enjoyed in this sense since boyhood in Rivendell, as any time since then spent in stillness had been so very transitory, always heading somewhere or other.

He looked with longing out over the plains, where he now felt sure in his heart Arwen was approaching, coming to make his home and, more so, his heart, complete. He felt so much joy, knowing she was approaching, at last, but there was also regret, regret at who was not coming. Halbarad rested in the hallows now, and his mother, dead only for a few, though long, years, would never see him stand here, would never see him raising his head, coming into his own. And he missed them now, so badly that he for a moment looked down, blinking tears away.

The fellowship were all with him here, and no doubt other brother's in arms of his would be here to see him wed. Elrohir and Elladan had left his side, but they would return, bringing not only their sister and father, but Glorfindel and the lady of the Woods, even Bilbo, he had little doubt of it.

There were other brothers of his heart, except Halbarad, that would not make it though. Others his heart badly missed. First Eomer, of course, but the man once named Estel, who would always remain Hope, did not regret his presence very deeply. He was safe and sound, to be with him soon again, no, that Eomer was not here was a mere fleeting fancy, nothing he dwelled upon. They had enough time for him to be there plenty in the future.

It was Boromir his mind finally settled on, his words from the golden woods echoing in his mind telling him of the city, of the silver glitter of the tower of Ecthelion, as easily as if he had just heard them, indeed, was still hearing them, especially the final ones; "And the tower guard shall call out the words, the lords of Gondor has returned!"

The king had little doubt they would indeed call such words often enough now, but never for Boromir. His final words to him, his last wow, forced Aragorn to breathe deeply unless he would give in too much to grief "I should have followed you, my brother. My captain. My king".

"My lord?" Aragorn hastily turned his head, taken aback that he had lost himself so in his mind that he did not hear, or rather, did not notice, the footsteps approaching. Behind him, looking somewhat nervous, stood Faramir. Aragorn gestured for him to join him, and the younger man obligingly came to lean against the wall beside him.

After a minute or so, of watching the city in silence, the steward spoke. "The guards called me. Your majesty" He hastened to add the title. "They asked me to speak to you. One or two of them were afraid you might jump over the wall... I told them it was nonsense, of course, but..." Aragorn could easily hear both the sincerity and the concern in his Steward's voice.

The Sovereign of the Reunited Kingdom laughed, softly and not unkindly, yet heartedly. "It seems much of my staff in the king's household is quite overprotective, having gotten a king at last. I assure you, Faramir" he turned his head to look at the younger man, who was now studying him "there is no need at all for concern. I was merely thinking of the future, as well as reflecting over the past".

"Then, maybe, sire" Faramir replied a little unsurely "you would wish for solitude?" But Aragorn shook his head "there is no need. I like your company, Faramir. And I am quite sure no harm could come from you addressing me with my proper name, not when we are alone. If that is what you wish for, you may have my full permission to do so".

Somewhat to his surprise, the somber young man beside him smiled "Thank you, Aragorn. I shall remember that. If you have no objections, might I ask a question? If you do not mind me speaking freely?" "Not at all" the king replied. Faramir hesitated for a second, then spoke, though it was, strictly speaking, not a question, though it was implied clearly enough. "You had a pair of vambraces at your coronation. They looked... familiar".

Aragorn smiled sadly in turn "yes, they would". This might not have been much of a reply, either, but there was no need. Faramir nodded his understanding anyway, and they watched the city for a few moments, both thinking of the man who once bore them, and Aragorn at least of the future he would now see, as would Faramir, of a beloved a wife and children, hopefully many, between them, that Boromir never would, before he spoke. "I have not worn them since. They're yours".

So, this is a companion piece of a sort to my other stories "The Queen and Her King" and "The Prince and His Parents", set before the two, but they can be read independently, or in any order. Together they tell my interpretation of the canon characters' lovestory, thoughts and hopes, firmly unrelated to my "What If" AU story. I mean no copyright infringement and write this only to share my views and thoughts with my fellow fans. Some words, easily recognised, are of course taken directly from Tolkien's books or Jackson's films, and I do not claim them to be mine.

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