Faramir, Captain of Gondor, Prince of Ithilien's journal

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Thursday, July 31st, 2003
8:11 pm - *Upon returning to his rooms* (midday day 10)
Faramir manages to get inside the safety of his chambers before once more the tears begin to flow over his cheeks. Slamming the door behind him, Faramir crosses to an old armchair, nearly throwing himself into it and tossing the troop order onto the floor, forgotten for the moment.

Dejectedly he slumps forward, buring his face in his hands and sobs out his pain once more, while visions of his past with Boromir torment him behind his closed eyes. "I am so sorry, brother," he whispers to the empty room, "I saw no other way."

With a broken sigh, he leans back against the back of the chair, eyes staring unfocues at the cold hearth. He hand reaches for a bottle of wine left on the small table next to his chair. Uncorking it, he casts the cork uselessly to the floor, taking a long drink from the bottle.

He did not need to see to the troops until tomorrow, leaving him the rest of the afternoon and night to get blissfully drunk and attempt to forgot about forcing Boromir out of his life.

Taking another long drink, his thoughts turned to Eowyn and her sudden distance. She had not sought him out last night as he slept under the safety and security of the willow branches, and she had not sought him either this morning or afternoon. Scowling, Faramir tries to think of what he could have done to cause her to pull away and his mind draws a blank.

Promising himself he will deal with that problem tomorrow as well, even if it means speaking to Eomer to gain some insight into Eowyn's mind, then he will do just that. For now, though, he turns his attentions back to his bottle.

current mood: drunk

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Sunday, July 27th, 2003
5:56 pm - Midday Day 10
Faramir slowly makes his way towards Boromir's chambers. He does not really want to have a meeting with his elder brother but he knows he must. It will be far easier to deal with the subject of more troops with Boromir than it would be to have to try to be in the same room with Aragorn without trying to kill the new King.

And he had promised Eowyn he would seek Boromir out and speak with him. And he would not break his promise to her for the world. With a weary sigh, he hastens his step. The sooner he finds Boromir the sooner he will get the needed troops and the sooner he can be gone from the painful air that has poisoned his childhood home.

current mood: anxious

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Wednesday, July 16th, 2003
8:01 pm - *evening of the ninth day*
Faramir returns to the palace dusty and tired. He had spent the morning drilling the palace guard in Legolas' place, the Elf having sent word to him via an early morning message that he would be gone for the day and needed Faramir to take his place. So Faramir, always duty-bound had put the guard through their paces until the midday sun had forced even Faramir to call it quits.

Next he had returned to the palace to seek out Eowyn. Even though he had spent the better part of the night in her chambers, they had not made love again. Faramir reasoned that they could be called away at a moment's notice to the bedside of the young stable boy or for another emergency with the horses. It would not be seemingly for a messenger to burst in upon them together, naked and entwined, before they were wed. Eowyn had agreed but Faramir could sense she was not completely happy with the arrangement. She had barely spoken to him when he had risen before dawn to return to his own rooms. He longed for nothing more than to take his noon meal with her and apologize. But the servants had informed him that she had left, riding out of the city for the afternoon.

So instead Faramir had made rounds to both Fram's bed and the stables. The boy was still unconscious but now appeared to be sleeping rather than in a coma. What little Faramir could communicate with the Galadhrim healer seemed to confirm it. After giving what words of encouragement he could to the boy's mother, along with repeated instructions that she was to let him know if he could do anything for them, he had left and returned to the stable yard.

The repairs seemed to moving along nicely. A construction supervisor had taken over the job of overseeing the work, probably at Eowyn's command, he'd mused to himself with a small chuckle. With nothing to do for the moment, and in the hopes of being there when his fiancee returned, Faramir had stripped down to just his breeches and boots and joined in with the cutting of planks, the hammering of nails, and the hanging of doors. As the sun began to set, and the workmen disperse for the night, Faramir realized Eowyn would not be back yet, and waiting outside like a love-sick puppy would only look silly. So he had done the only thing he had left on his agenda, return to his rooms.

After a bath and a light meal, the younger Steward turned his attention to several messages that had been delivered from Ithilien early that afternoon. Construction of the city was moving along, albeit slowly. But even slower was the return of people to farms and villages. More bands of leaderless Orcs and Uruks and other flotsam from Sauron's armies were still terrorizing the countryside. Faramir sighs deeply. All of his men are already commited to the area, and he does not have the authority to send more. Only Aragorn as King or Boromir as Steward have the power to move troops from one side of the Anduin to the other.

Faramir rubs one hand across his forehead in a weary gesture. He does not want to have to face Aragorn. Not just yet. He is still too angry at Aragorn's strike to Boromir the night before. His only other option is to seek out his brother. Rising from his desk, Faramir grabs a bottle of wine from his shelves and leaves for his brother's rooms. It would be good to talk to Boromir, brother to brother.

Rest is under here )

current mood: crushed

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Sunday, June 15th, 2003
6:39 pm - *In one of the halls of the palace of Minas Tirith*
(( OOC: Once again, this IS canon for the RPG, but it's a bit of a backstory/flashback to before the time of the Fellowship. Could be anywhere from a few years to a few months before Boromir leaves for Rivendell))

Faramir presses himself deeper into the dark alcove in the hall. He can hear the sound of yet another of his father's council meetings breaking up. This one Faramir was fortunate enough to miss, having had the excuse of patrol to keep him out of the palace. Poor Boromir had not been so lucky. Faramir knew his brother will be in a foul temper from having to have spent the entire pleasant summer morning shut away behind closed doors and shuttered windows with a room full of old men who did nothing but agree to their father's every word.

Faramir can hear Boromir's murmured words of parting to some advisor or another before the distinctive sound of his brother's boots sound on the thick carpet of the hall. Tensing his muscles, Faramir readies himself to spring as soon as his brother is within range. As Boromir passes, one hand to his forhead as if to massage away a headache, Faramir pounces. Wrapping one hand over his brother's mouth to prevent him from crying out, the other arm firmly pulling his elder sibling's body against his, Faramir whispers softly into his struggling brother's ear. "Sssshhhh, Boromir, do not fight! It is I!"

current mood: mischievous

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Saturday, May 31st, 2003
1:48 pm - *After leaving Boromir's rooms*
After leaving his brother's rooms, Faramir had thought to return to his own chambers or to check on the situation in the stables, especially since it was obvious the King would not see it as his duty. Faramir's jaw clenchd in anger at the thought of Aragorn, and of Aragorn striking his brother. He and Boromir had had more than their share of tussels grwoing up, as all brothers did, but Faramir cannot remember a time after adolescence when they had ever come to blows.

Suddenly the thought of remaining in the palace one moment longer is unbearable. Faramir makes a hasty turn away from the direction of his own rooms and heads for the relative peace and quiet of the gardens. As he winds his way along the paths, the Capatain makes note of a smaller than usual number of people about. Most, he assumes, dropped everything they were doing when the commotion began in the stables, either to run and help, or run and gawk.

Faramir's steps find him at his favorite spot by the pond and the willow trees. Just as he had a thousand times before when he younger, he slips into the protective cover of their branches, hiding him from casual site. The green leaves and boughs allow him to be alone with his brooding thoughts.

current mood: discontent

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Wednesday, May 7th, 2003
3:05 pm - *Same morning*
Faramir dressed slowly, more than at little distracted by watching Eowyn slip into her gown and struggle with the row of buttons along the back. He wished that duty and station could be cast aside completely for the day so he could spend it with his beautiful bride-to-be.

He smiled slightly as he remembered how Eowyn had hustled him into hiding in her bathroom when the chambermaids knocked up on her door before entering with her breakfast tray. He'd had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as Eowyn chatted amiably with the serving women, probably in an attempt to keep them from noticing that two had slept in her bed, rather than one.

He'd lost the battle not to laugh once he'd heard the door close firmly behind the women and Eowyn securely throw the latch to prevent them from coming back in unannounced. She's concerned him them, slapping at him with playful scolding at how close they'd come to being caught. He'd caught her in his arms and carried her back to her large bed, showing her once more just how much he did love her, palace gossips be damned.

Walking behind her, Faramir moved Eowyn's hands away from the tiny buttons. "Would you like some assistance, my lady?

current mood: happy

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Saturday, April 5th, 2003
1:38 pm - *In the palace treasury*
((OOC---NC17 thread, and it's *gasp* het!! O.O ))

Compossing himself after seeing Boromir very nearly ruin the effort Aragorn had made to mend their rift, Faramir made his way to the palace treasure rooms. True to his word, Aragorn has already sent word that Faramir is to be allowed to search for whatever he may desire for his lady. It's a good thing too, as Faramir is certain that nothing short of jewelry will pacify the temper he's sure Eowyn's in at not hearing from him last evening after he escorted her back to his rooms. And then there is the small matter of the guilt he feels for having shunned her for the comfort of his own brother's arms.

The guard admits him ito a small room that is used for the keeping of royal jewels. Bowing to Faramir, the guard leaves, closing the door behind him to give the Prince some privacy. By torchlight Faramir can see the shining and sparkling of an untold number of gems. He begins to randomly sort through them, setting aside various cases and bags and chests until he finds what it is he seeks---a case full of rings.

Faramir is not certain what type of ring he wants for his gift to Eowyn, only that he'll know it when he sees it. Removing the top tray of simple rings, he begins looking in earnest and the rings on the tray below. There he finds one he knows will be perfect for Eowyn. In a gold band is set a large, clear pale blue stone surround by a ring of adamants. It's beautiful, just as she is, the blue reminding him of her eyes, the gold of her hair. He lifts it out of it's nest and holds it up to the flickering torchlight. Yes, this will be perfect for her. Carefully returning everything to it's proper place, Faramir places the ring into his tunic pocket and leaves, letting the guard lock up behind him.

Nervously he makes his way toward Eowyn's rooms. He hopes she has not left for the day so that he may surprise her.

current mood: hopeful

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Friday, April 4th, 2003
11:21 pm - *next morning in his rooms*
Faramir feels better than he has in months. Boromir's prescence long with Eowyn's had worked wonders. As he and his brother had slept, the nightmares had returned only to be driven away by Boromir's strong arms and soft words.

The the soft pre-dawn, they'd coupled once again. Slower and more gentle that time. They'd come moaning each other's names sotfly, limbs entertwined.

Once morning had arrived, they had still be loathe to leave one another. Faramir had allowed the maids in just long enough for them to bring breakfast and change the bedlinens. The brothers' presence had been enough to deter any whipsering amongst the women while they were in the room. Faramir just hoped it was enough to deter them from gossiping once they were gone. Fortunately it had never been unusual for one brother to stay in the other's rooms over night.

Now Faramir sat across from his beloved Boromir as they ate their breakfast unable to contain their smiles for one another. "I'm glad you stayed Boromir. I missed you. Missed us." Faramir reaches across the table to brush a strand of hair out of his older sibling's face.

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Thursday, March 27th, 2003
12:31 am - *back in Faramir's rooms*
Faramir and Eowyn finish their lunch, smiling and making playful small talk now that the tension between them is gone. Setting his fork down, he leans back in his chair sipping fromhis wine glass.

"I should really return to the affairs of state." Faramir notes Eowyn's disappointed reaction before smiling warmly at her. "But I won't. If the King can take the afternoon off, then so can I. And I promised a very beautiful woman I would show her the palace gardens."

He stands and hold his hand out to her. "Shall we?"

current mood: happy

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Wednesday, March 5th, 2003
7:51 pm - *next morning*
Faramir awoke early in the morning, leaving one of his most trusted men in charge, and riding for The White City before the sun was barely over the horizon.

After riding the better part of the day through scorched fields and burnt house, most showing signs, however small of returning to life, he reached the gates of Minas Tirith. The sunset turned the white walls of the city varying shades of gold, red, pink, and lavender. He thought, battle-scarred or not, she had never looked more beautiful.

"Captain Faramir! Faramir has returned" The guards called as soon as he was in view. He returned their salutes and waves as best he could. He was still drained from his battle with the poison from the dart he took in the Siege of Gondor.

He looked forward to an ale or two with his brother and the king and then a quiet evening and a soft bed.

Dismounting when he reached the palace, he tossed the reins to a waiting boy, ruffling the lad's hair as he climbed the marble steps to the main entrance.

A guard welcomed him into the hall. "Captain Faramir! You've arrived! We got word of your coming last night." The guard fell into step next to Faramir. "Your old rooms are prepared for you. Shall I tell your brother you've arrived?"

Faramir smiled at the thought of his brother hunched over a desk somewhere tending to the mundane business of a kingdom. Before the war, their roles would have been reversed. Faramir at his desk and Boromir riding about seeing to the safety of the land. Strange how roles had a way of reversing.

"Yes, please let my brother know I'm here."

"It's good to have you back, Captian."

"It's good to be home." He clasped the man on the back as a parting gesture before opening the door into his old rooms.

current mood: tired

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Monday, March 3rd, 2003
11:05 pm - *enters Osgiliath*
Faramir enters the ruined stronghold of Osgiliath, followed by dozens of his men, all road-weary, dirty and exhausted. For days they had pursued a bands of Orc left over from the final battle. After they slaughter the last one, they finally were able to return to the city.

Bands of Orcs and other members of Saurons forces still roamed the land. Even though the Dark Lord and the Nazgul had been defeated, their armies had not vanished into thin air. Faramir had taken it on himself whe Aragon crowned him Prince of Ithilien to see to it that his lands were scoured of the enemy.

Retreating to one of the ruined buildings that now served as the headquaters for the White Guard, he encountered a messenger from Minas Tirith.

"Lord Faramir, I have a message from you from your brother at palace. I've waited several days to give this to you."
He handed the sealed parachment to Faramir, bowing in respect.

"Thank you, take your leave to return home as soon as you'd like." He started to break the seal and examine it's contents.

"With all due respect, my lord, I've been told to wait for a reply."

Faramir looked up from the short note. "By all means. Tell my brother I will be there directly. I need a day to rest here before continuing on to the White City, but you may tell him I'll be there directly."

The messenger bowed and swiftly left the room, leaving Faramir to slump exhausted into chair. 'It would be nice to see Boromir again, and this does give me a chance to speak with Aragon about matters of the land. I can stop there and spend a few days before going on to Edoras to see Eowyn.'

He poured himself a glass of water from a pitcher left for him on a small table before sinking completely into his own thoughts.

current mood: contemplative

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