The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings one shots and Imagines

Home again - Part 3 - Faramir x Reader

The city was just as she remembered. As great and as beautiful as it had been when she was young. She couldn't help but feel all manner of emotions as she looked up at the great towers. She hadn't really realised how much she had missed Minas Tirith until this moment. She had been to many of the cities of men over her time away, but she would say that none was as great as the city of her birth. None more imposing than the white city that stood on the easternmost point of the White Mountains, close to the River of Wilderland.

Just like the day that she had sailed away, the streets bustled with vendors selling their wares. The air thick with all manner of smells, all manner of sounds. A smile coming to her lips as she watched some children race past her, wooden swords in hand. An older woman shooing them away, as they chased around, trying to use her stall as protection.

Once again, memories came flooding back. The image of her, of Boromir and Faramir doing exactly the same thing when they had been young. Boromir, as the oldest stating that as he was likely to become the Captain of the White Tower when he was older, that he was in charge, and Faramir and (Y/n) would follow him. The pair just laughing at the older boy as he walked up and down looking like he was trying to inspect them. Boromir calling out in exasperation as she would just suddenly run off. Faramir looking between his brother and a fleeing, giggling (Y/n), before racing after her. Leaving the oldest son of Denethor to grumble under his breath for a moment before deciding to join them.

It had been a wonderful time, filled with long days and star filled nights. (Y/n) sure that she had honed her best skills while with the brothers. That she had learned things that she would never have learned without them. That they had had a friendship that she personally would never forget. And more, she had learned what it was to love someone.

Over her time away, her aunt and uncle had done all they could to find her a suitable suitor. Letters from her parents telling them, telling her, that they wished her only to be happy. That they wanted her to find a man that would stand by her side, and perhaps even one day, they would be gifted with grandchildren. But try as her relatives might, and no matter how handsome or brave the young man was that was paraded before her, she had always declined; saying that she had no time for marriage. That her duties kept her too busy. That she would suddenly find herself called upon when the mention of a husband was made. For in truth, she knew that no one, man, elf, or any other male that called Middle Earth home, would ever be able to hold a candle to the boy that she had kissed under the white tree that night. That no one could make her laugh, make her cry, make her feel like the young man she had been forced to leave so many moons before. That no one could compare to Faramir.

Slowly, she turned; as much as she was enjoying this little stroll down memory lane, she had things to do. She had come back to the capital for a reason, and the sooner that she got things out of the way, the sooner that she would be able to leave the way that she had come.

In truth, she feared a little for her safety as she walked through the lanes. Her eyes looking for even the slightest movement that looked out of place. Denethor did not know that she was coming back to the city to take care of her parent's affairs after their death, and she wanted to keep it that way. She had heard the stories of how he was mad, cruel, unpredictable, and she wasn't sure whether the old man would be happy with the notion of her return, especially as he had been the one to force her parents to send her away. It was true that she hoped that the Steward of Gondor had forgotten all about her given the years, but for some reason she doubted it; sure, that the vile creature would remember the girl that had made his youngest son happy, much to his chagrin. And would therefore not think twice about harming her. So, a secret this visit would have to remain.

With a heavy heart, she stopped as she came to the door of the fine home. The outside hadn't changed any, and at any moment (Y/n) expected her mother's face to appear around the door, smiling softly at her. The ingress to be opened so that she could walk inside. Her father sat in his favourite chair next to the fire, his old faithful hound lying at his feet. Part of her wanted to run. To just get away, not sure if she could deal with this. Not sure if she could deal with the idea of being back in the city and not being able to see her two favourite boys again. (Y/n) having an internal battle all the way to the front door, as to whether she could cope if neither man, if Faramir didn't remember her. If it were to become obvious that what she recalled so fondly, hadn't meant anything to them. And worst of all, could her already strained emotions deal with things, if it turned out that Faramir, her Faramir had married another.

With a deep breath, she unlocked the door. A loud creak making her cringe a little, as she pushed the wooden ingress open. Tears coming to her eyes, as she took in the sight. A sob leaving her lips, as she fell to her knees, knowing that she would never get the chance to see her parents again. Her body, her mind suddenly taken over by the need to just rest. To sleep. Her emotion finally getting the better of her. (Y/n) slowly dragging herself back to her feet. She would rest for whatever was left of the day; she would sleep for one night back under the white tower of the city, and then tomorrow............tomorrow she would see to everything. (Y/n) hoping that things would be over with soon, so that once again be on her way.