The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings one shots and Imagines

Home again - Part 1 - Faramir x Reader

New character time, and this one is a request for alwoods8574. I have neglected Faramir for far too long, so I hope this first part starts to make amends for that. Hope you all enjoy.

(Y/n) couldn't help but want to cry tears of joy and pride as her ship sailed down the towards the two enormous statues that had been carved in the likenesses of Isildur and Anárion. The monuments telling her that she wasn't far from the northern entrance to Nen Hithoel. That she wasn't far from Gondor.

The last time that she had seen the great city of Minas Tirith, she had been naught but a child. A rambunctious little creature that had always had the desire to scale the heights of Mount Mindolluin. That would run as fast as she could along the seven walls, pretending that she was astride one of the horses from Rohan. But she was never alone when she did it. Never alone when she would escape her tutors and make her way through the streets. Never alone when she would fight any foe that might threaten the great city of men with her wooden sword. No, there were always two others with her. Two that were her greatest friends. Two that she would spend every moment she could with. Two certain brothers, by the names of Boromir and Faramir.

At the time, her father had been the Warden of the Houses of Healing, and even thought Faramir was older than her by a good two years, and Boromir a little more, the three had always been close. They seemed to have always had a connection, her father jokingly calling them the terrible Tirith trio. Their days spent causing all manner of chaos and falling off walls. Chasing one another through the market stalls and the alleyways of the city. Their laughter filling the air as they passed the other inhabitants of Minas Tirith. One if not all of them usually returning home with a new bruise or scraped knee at the end of the day. Those glorious times, seeming so long ago now.

As they had grown, (Y/n) had remained friends with Boromir, the older boy more a big brother in her eyes than a friend. Yet Faramir, oh Faramir, now he was something different. He had always been the sweetest of boys. Kind and gentle, just and modest. She could recall one day, where he had accidentally knocked her from a wall that they were all walking along, (Y/n) landing badly on her ankle as she had landed. And finding that she could not walk, Faramir had taken her up into his arms and carried her all the way home. Apologising as they went. Apologising once again to her mother as they had made their way through the door of her home. (Y/n) in fact more than happy that she had twisted her ankle if it meant that she could be this close the boy. Realising as she lay her head against his chest, that she loved him. That she always would.

From that moment, she and Denethor's youngest son had become closer. The two often escaping their rooms at night, so that they could lay under the stars together. So that they could talk until the dark sky slowly made way for the new day. The two sharing their first kiss beneath the White Tree. But then............then Denethor had happened, and nothing would be the same.

(Y/n) always knew that the Steward of Gondor seemed to hold no love in his heart for his younger son. In fact, it was as if Denethor despised Faramir. The Lord of Minas Tirith always seeming to take great delight in belittling and berating Faramir at every turn, when Boromir could do no wrong. And given that, as soon as the son of Ecthelion had found out that his second child had found some happiness in his friendship with (Y/n), he had ordered her to be sent away. The cruel man apparently wishing to deprive Faramir of any light and joy. Her last sight of the city of men, being her mother crying, as she had told her that she must be on her best behaviour. That she must be good, and do as she was told, when she got to the home of her aunt and uncle. Of her father pulling her into his arms, whispering that he was sorry for sending her away. Of Boromir presenting her with his best dagger, telling her to always keep it close. And of Faramir standing some distance away, doing his best to stop the tears from falling down his cheeks. The boy that she loved, giving her one last sad smile, before she had made her way to the waiting boat that would take her far from him.

Slowly she reached up and brushed a tear from her eye. Since she had been forced to leave her home, the world had been quite good to her in truth. She had learnt much and seen even more. And now she would be returning to the city as a woman, a scholar, diplomat, and warrior. Her heart beating faster, as the great statues towered over her head, making her feel insignificant compared to their glory. The colossus that had once scared her when she was little, now a symbol of home.

For days now, as the water had lapped at the sides of the ships, she had found herself on deck wondering whether either of the brothers would remember her. Would remember the girl that they would play with. Would recall the third member of the terrible Tirith trio. Wondered whether Faramir would even recall who she was, or the kiss that they had shared under the branches of the White Tree. Whether he had given her a second thought since she had had to leave.

A little part of her truly believed that he would still remember her. That he had thought about her since she had waved goodbye. But mostly, she doubted it. She doubted that either brother would have any idea who she was. That her beautiful, sweet and modest Faramir would not have given a fleeting moments thought to their time beneath the stars. But, as her ship slowly carried along the River Anduin, she knew that she would find out soon.