Boromir and Teddy

“A nation reveals itself not only in the men it produces, but also by the men it honors, the men it remembers…” John F. Kennedy

For Evendim

Just before dawn, Faramir rolled over and kissed Éowyn on the cheek. His beautiful bride sighed softly in her sleep and snuggled closer. Faramir resisted the urge to remain here nestled in her warmth, as resolve won out and he shifted slowly from her embrace, scooting his pillow closer to her so that she would not feel the sudden emptiness of their bed.

On this, their first trip to Rohan as man and wife, Faramir had more and more felt the pull of the goodbye he must say. He quickly dressed and pulled on his boots, sitting awkwardly on the floor so as not to jostle the bed. Once he was dressed, he paused to stare at Éowyn. Her hair was spread out across the pillow like shimmering silk and the soft swell of her breast rose and fell in the rhythm of her breathing. How blessed he was.

Pulling his cloak from a peg on the wall, he let himself out of the room. The corridor was silent in the predawn, but he could look down the hallway and see a faint glow that must be coming from the firepit. Éomer met him in the great hall. The boots of the warriors echoed eerily as they walked with purpose through the cavernous room. Faramir nodded to the doorward as the surprised guard beheld the steward and king in the darkness. Éomer assured the man that all was well and that they were not in need of any assistance.

The pair quickly made their way through the silent city, past the smithy, and down to the great gate. The early rays of anor were beginning to warm the sky in the east, easing their passage. Neither man spoke, each lost in his own memories, Faramir supposed.

The mounds were ghostly when visited by dawn’s early light. A shimmering mist hung heavily, swirling mystically around them as they walk through it. Simbelmynë, the white star flower, graced the burial mounds of the royal house as they always did…silent sentinels of honor.

“It is here,” said Éomer, his deep voice sounding strangely soft in this hallowed place.

Faramir stole a glace at the king’s face and saw the struggle written on every line. It was then that Faramir realized Éomer was his brother in grief as well as in joy. The blood of their families would continue through the children that Faramir and Éowyn would produce, and yet their bond was established long before…in the deep and abiding friendship and brotherhood of Boromir and Théodred.

Two of the most powerful men in middle earth, the steward and the king knelt together by the burial mound of Théodred, Prince of Rohan, Second Marshal of the Mark, and shield brother to Boromir of Gondor, heir to the Steward, High Warden of the White Tower, and Captain-General of Gondor’s army. Born in the same year, and slain on the same day, it was as though fate had forever bound these two in a brotherhood of honor, leaving those who loved them to grapple with the overwhelming loss.

Tears streamed down the king’s face as he spoke softly to Faramir of how Teddy had been a brother and mentor to him after he and Éowyn had been brought to Edoras. “I was not here to stand beside him as he passed through the veil,” said Éomer brokenly. “I should have been by his side.”

Faramir understood the anguish of that statement, indeed had shared it for too long a time. Yet, surprisingly his heart felt a lightening, as though the two great warriors knelt beside him now, smiling in death as they always had in life. “I believe he left first so that he could be there to greet Boromir as he entered. They were always like that for each other, and it comforts me to know that they are together now.

In the lifting mist a pair of mourning doves cooed softly as the morning light illuminated the blossoms.

The end