Faramir Fiction Archive

Riders of the White City (G)

19 May 2012 | 483 words

Title: Riders of the White City
Author: alexcat
Fandom: LOTR
Type: Gen
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I do not own nor profit from the use of these characters.
Warnings: None
Beta: None
Characters: Faramir, Boromir
Archive: OEAM< Ao3, Alex’s Story Book
Author’s Note: Why not?
Spoilers: No.
Summary: The son of the Steward steal a few moments to be boys.

Riders of the White City

Faramir was always thrilled when Father allowed Boromir some time away from his military studies and training. Those times were seldom and he meant to make every moment count. Who didn’t want to spend time with his older brother?

“What shall we play?” Boromir asked. He was several years older than Faramir but not too old yet for boyhood fun and games. He always asked Faramir what he wanted to do though this time the answer he got was not quite what he expected but his young brother was always full of surprises.

“Maybe we could be horse soldiers like the Rohirrim?”

“Maybe we could call ourselves Riders of the White City.” Boromir’s pride in his home was evident in his voice.

They ran to the stables and saddled their horses. The guard opened the gate as both of the sons of the Steward raced through. Before he closed the gates back, he nodded to the third rider who would watch after them from afar, making sure they were safe.

“This is so much fun! We should ride all the way to Rohan and show them what fine horsemen we are!” Faramir shouted as Boromir let him race into the front.

“Maybe we should make a camp a little closer to home. Father might have need of us.”

The two boys unloaded their gear, foraged for dry firewood and put up a small tent. Boromir made fishing poles from young saplings along the river bank, using string and hooks he brought from home to complete them. Faramir was put to the task of hunting worms for bait. A few hours later, they ate their own fish, cooked on a rock over the fire. Not even a king’s kitchen had such grand food as they did.

“I wish Father would let me train like you do,” Faramir said rather wistfully.

“He will soon enough, brother. Enjoy these days. Sometimes I wish I could do this all the time instead of so much training.”

They lay down by the fire on their blankets and told stories and jokes late into the night. Faramir fell asleep in the middle of a story. Boromir put him in the tent and covered him with a blanket. Then he slept himself.

In later years, both brothers would remember this night as one of their favorite memories. It would be the story that Faramir told his own children about his boyhood in Gondor and about their uncle, the finest brother anyone ever had.

~end~

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