why am I so numb...?

[sorsha]

A small figure stumbled after Bromir, suddenely fragile as a waveriing leaf. That figure was me, defeated, but still as much alive as the man dragging me. I walked at a regular pace, hoping Boromir would not drag me, thus cause further physical injury. That was the last thing I needed now.

Yet I was still at my wits end of why Boromir wanted to take me with him. I wasn't much use to the man of Gondor...was I? I was simply a girl, although I hated to admit it, simply a girl with no means of defending herself. Apart from my own limbs, which seemed to obey another now.

Minas Tirith... I had heard of the city before, stayed in it even. Most disliked me there, so I stayed only to pick up some supplies for myself and Rocco. It put a chill to my young bones to see the daunting palace again, the bright merriment sending small shivers down my spine. I could do worse, I supposed, but now wasn't the right time or place to be optomistic, as being stuck with a man who thought I was nuts isn't exactly refreshing.

Now is the time to think.

[boromir]

I swear under my breath, hating that the very begin of my journey could be colored with blood. How is it that the Rohirrim crossed our borders, chasing the child I once knew as Aizreal, and I was not even told about it? I shake my head, nearing the treeline, yanking Sorsha the Mad behind me, turning my profile to her to growl, "Keep up, little one!" Lifting the Horn of Gondor to my lips, I blow two short blasts to signal the White Tower. I pause a moment before repeating the two short blasts a second time. Yes, it is your Captain that calls for aid. No, he has not yet made it past our borders. Yes, Faramir, my journey has already incurred interruption. No, I do not think it bodes ill for my journey to Rivendell... but yes, it will be good to see your face again... once more before I leave for several months... once more without the countenance of Father watching.

I watch the face of my city as we break the trees before the fields of Pelennor. In the far distance I watch as the gates of the first level open, releasing a party of five men on horseback. I know that Faramir leads-- I recognize the gait of his horse even from as far away as I am. A smile touches the edges of my lips at the thought of seeing my little brother without the watchful eye of Father supervising; I loose the horn, allowing it to fall to my side. I think back to that conversation after we took back Osgiliath. Why must Father always try to drive the life out of Faramir? Is it not enough that he drove the life out of Mother? I growl at myself for thinking such a thought, lifting my green gaze to the horses that have made it halfway across the fields. Father may be cold and harsh, he may have lost his warmth with the loss of Mother, but he did not-- could not have-- kill her. It was the loss of the sea that drove my lady mad with loneliness... that sucked the vivid life from her. I nod to myself. Not Father... he loved Mother, just as he loves Faramir... after a fashion.

I hear the hoofbeats of Faramir's party nearing us and I straighten my shoulders, starting to move towards them. I raise my free hand in greeting, calling out, "Faramir! It has been so long!"

My little brother cackles, shaking his head as he rides nearer to me. "Boromir! I did not think to hear from you so soon! Is it impossible for you to leave the White Tower at all or am I speaking to a spirit and you are really on your journey through Greywood?" Staying his horse, he dismounts, telling his company, "I will take care of this. Keep a careful eye on Captain Boromir's prisoner."

I tug Sorsha the Mad as I move to my brother, hugging him with one arm in greeting. "Rohirrim are in the forest, tracking the girl that we jailed. Aizreal... you remember?"

"Aye, I do. She escaped--"

I interrupt him, nodding. "Oh, I know. She escaped into Greywood... I almost think she might have been tracking me, little brother." I shake my head. "This one--" I glance back at the woman. "-- I saw her in Osgiliath as well. I told her to leave before I brought Aizreal to the White City. She tried to interfere with Eomer's capture of Aizreal--" I lean closer to whisper in Faramir's ear. "--I think she must be mad with the things that pass her lips."

Pulling back from my brother's embrace, I pull Sorsha the Mad forward, ticking my glance towards Faramir's second. "Come, tie her. Take her to Minas Tirith's dungeons. She was present at the death of one of Eomer's Eored, serving as a distraction in order to allow Aizreal to escape. That makes her just as guilty as Aizreal in the death of the Rohan boy. Treat her accordingly."

Faramir's second dismounts, taking Sorsha the Mad from me. I turn back to my little brother. "Do not let Father get to you, Faramir," I murmur, placing both my hands on his face. "Do not let him make you feel less than you are and you are a Captain of the White Tower and my little brother. I know your strengths, Faramir, and I know your dreams." I lean my forehead to his. "We will meet again before too long, my brother."

Faramir chuckles, grasping my shoulders. "I almost think you would have called out to me just to say those words, my brother, without Father's watchful eye on us."

"I would have done! I was thinking of it before leaving Greywood." I chuckle. "Go now. I must return to my camp, little brother. It is almost time for me to depart."

He nods as we step back from one another, he going over to his horse before turning to call to me. "Boromir!"

I arch an eyebrow. "Little brother?"

"Come back soon. Come back in one piece." He smiles, his eyes softening, reminding me of the boys we once had been. "The White Tower needs her true captain... and I need my big brother."

I grin. "Evermore and always will we be brothers, Faramir." I clasp my fist over my heart. "And I am never far from you." I watch as he mounts, grasping the reins to his steed before glancing over his shoulder at the bound woman tied to his horse. He puts his fist over his heart. "And I am never far from you. Have a safe journey to Rivendell, my brother," he calls before they turn and ride back across the fields towards Minas Tirith.

I watch them ride with a heavy heart, knowing that the physical space put between Faramir and I by the horse's hooves will never tear us apart; we are brothers, in blood and in spirit. Whatever may come of my journey to Rivendell can never break our bond. Looking over my shoulder at the imposing dark of Greywood, I smile grimly. And yet, blood spilled on the eve of my journey... no, that does not pose a good sign.

[sorsha]

I rolled my eyes in a poor display of annoyance as he called me little. Great. I was stuck in Minas Tirith with a Captain who thought I was little. My life's ambition, this was. He lifted the trumpet to his lips, and I winced as the sound of the instrument blasted through to the very core of my head, bloody hurting. I knew enough that the Captain of Gondor was calling for aid, but I tried to block the cinical and sarcastic comments that flew into my head. Best not to anger him at the moment. Best to keep a cool head, or whatever the expression was.

Faramir appeared, suddenely and quickly. I had never seen Faramir, of course. Ah well. He was a handsome one, I gave him that. As he tugged me, I made an angry face, pretty pissed off now.Tell me, was that really nessasary? They seemed to be close. My spasms of annoyance faded slowly as I saw the love between the two brothers, and my face turned wistful. My sister had died so long ago, I could only remember faces and feelings. Only distant memories. I suppose that is what they are now, and probably will always be.

"If I may be mad, my hearing is yet as fine as it always was, sir knight" I said, not in an unfriendly voice. So he thought I was mad, eh? Well woulden't he get a shock...

I winced as a few men bound me tight. Heck, I wasnn';t that dangerous? Surly they woulden't give me that much credit?