Faramir Fiction Archive

Unexpected Blessings (NC-17)

Written by Nissi

14 November 2006 | 18644 words

Chapter 8: His Lasting Gift

Faramir waited nervously in a small room adjacent to Éowyn’s suite. He looked out the window to the expanse of Rohan below. It was a strange landscape, but inspiring nonetheless. He was glad his son would grow up in such an environment, surrounded by the adoration of his people.

Legolas remained in Meduseld reminiscing with Éomer, whom he had not seen since Elessar’s coronation. He had opted to give Faramir privacy to meet his son alone, as he felt the first moments should be private ones.

Faramir turned towards the door as he heard it open, and a radiant Éowyn stepped into the room. Faramir’s breath was stolen at the sight. She cradled a swathed bundle to her milk-swelled bosom, cooing lovingly as she walked slowly towards her once-husband.

She looked up at Faramir and smiled broadly, her eyes glimmering with emotion. “Elboron,” she whispered to the infant. “This is your father. He is a mighty man from Gondor. A fearless warrior, noble, and true. A captain men followed even under the shadow of black wings,” she said, quoting words she had once heard spoken regarding Faramir. She remembered the nightmarish sight of the fell beasts, having slain the Witch-King’s beast, and she appreciated the sentiment well.

The quality of her voice told Faramir that she genuinely meant every word she chose to describe him. She had forgiven him. Tears welled in Faramir’s eyes as his son was handed to him, both for the beauty of the child he had made, and for the beauty of the woman with whom he had made him. He still regretted what he had done to her, but felt their child bonded them in a way their false marriage never had. Éowyn’s letter had expressed otherwise, but he could not stop himself from perceiving a common thread between them—a memory of the few times in which they were happy—the reckless times when Faramir lost himself in pursuit of her.

Elboron was beautiful beyond Faramir’s possible imaginings. He was yet small and pink, but his power was not diminished by his tender age. “Éowyn,” Faramir said softly, trying to gather himself sufficiently to refrain from crying openly. “He is…breathtaking.”

Éowyn reached over and rubbed the tip of her index finger playfully against the baby’s chin. “He is, isn’t he? We created a breathtaking child,” she said softly. Faramir realized that despite the words in her letter, Éowyn did feel a connection to him through their son. Faramir was relieved, as it meant his visits to Edoras would be pleasant, if not enjoyable. He had taken Legolas’s advice and resolved to play a role in the child’s upbringing.

“I will leave you alone with him. I think it only fair that you have private time to bond with your son,” Éowyn said amiably. She placed her hand on Faramir’s shoulder.

“Éowyn,” Faramir began. “I am sorry. You will never know the extent of my regret.”

Éowyn nodded slowly. “I know you are, Faramir, and I accept your apology. We were both impetuous, and we both carried our own sorrows. Differences that could never be reconciled. I think…that seeing you here, holding our son, you have found my love after all. I could never hold what happened against you, Faramir. Yours has been a troubled and complicated life. I have seen who you are, who you really are, and I know what your husband loved about you. The reasons he loved you were the reasons I loved you when you were my husband. Your quality was masked by grief, but I knew it nonetheless.”

“In some way, Éowyn, I will ever be your husband,” Faramir smiled softly. “And I will always appreciate you as a dear friend, and the mother of my child.”

“And I am glad for it,” Éowyn responded, leaning forward and placing a chaste kiss upon Faramir’s brow. “Our son watches you,” she whispered. “His range of sight is yet limited, but he will study your face, and come to know it.” She looked lovingly upon her son once more before leaving the room, closing the door behind her.

Faramir simply stared at the infant in his arms. He could not tear his eyes from the child. He was utterly taken. For a long time he rocked Elboron gently, listening to the soft cooing emanating from the baby’s lips.

“She was right. He resembles you,” Boromir said softly from behind him, trying not to startle his love while he held the child.

Faramir was not surprised at Boromir’s appearance, but he was happy for it. “I am glad you have come, my love,” he said softly. “Meet my son, Elboron.”

Boromir crossed to Faramir’s side and looked to the child. “He is lovely, Faramir.”

“He is ours,” Faramir whispered. “Yours and mine. As much as he is Éowyn’s son, he is yours as well. You were with me, in some way, when he was conceived.”

Boromir reached out and brushed his fingertips against Elboron’s smooth cheek. “Our child. He is an unexpected joy.” Elboron’s eyes shifted from Faramir’s face to Boromir’s. The child clearly saw his uncle’s form.

“He sees you,” Faramir said with amazement. Boromir laid his hand against Elboron’s chest and the baby caught his finger, holding it in his small fist. Boromir’s words from many moons past resonated in Faramir’s memory. “You looked at me with your big blue eyes…curled your tiny fist around my finger…and I was yours.”

Boromir’s arm stretched around Faramir’s back and he held his husband close, nuzzling his lips in his hair. “I am yours, always,” Boromir said quietly. “I love you, Faramir. And I love this child.”

Faramir’s tears renewed and spilled unchecked down his cheeks. “I love you, Boromir. Always.”

The three remained this way for some time—Boromir beside Faramir, his arm encircling him as his lips rested against his temple; Faramir leaning into Boromir as he cradled his son in his arms; and Elboron gazing contentedly upon the two until sleep crept upon him.

Faramir no longer felt ill-prepared to be a father. He realized that with the support of Éowyn, Legolas, and Boromir, he could give his son all that he deserved.

When a soft knocking on the door pulled the husbands from their reverie, Boromir placed one more kiss upon Faramir’s soft skin. “I will see you again soon, my brother, my love. The time has come for him to meet your child. He will cherish him,” Boromir said quietly. “And that will be your lasting gift.”

“I will look forward to your return, my husband, beloved Boromir,” Faramir whispered. He knew to whom Boromir referred even before the door opened. His brother disappeared as the elf peeked into the room.

“I do not wish to bother…” Legolas began.

“Come,” Faramir whispered, careful not to wake the baby. “Come and see my son.” His smile bespoke the overwhelming love that Faramir felt—for Elboron, Boromir, Legolas, and even, at last, for Éowyn.

For the Steward, there was nothing but happiness. He had mastered his anguish. He had found his peace, and he looked forward to what the future might bring. His had been a strange and complex journey, and there were bound to be many twists yet in his path—but no obstacles, for Faramir knew that nothing would ever overpower him again.

On to In His Gardens

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