By: Dana
Summary: Faramir needs something to remember. So does Frodo.
Characters: Faramir, Frodo, Eowyn, Sam, Merry, Pippin
Pairings: Frodo/Faramir
Rating: PG
Warnings: Slash, angst
Author's Notes: Written as a mathom for my birthday. Oh, the angst. Post-quest but not post-Minas Tirith.
Disclaimer: The author makes no claim to owning the rights of anything to do with J.R.R. Tolkien or New Line Cinema. Any and all characters and situations that have been borrowed are for the author's personal use only, and for the entertainment of others.

Faramir knew that it wouldn't be long.

Eowyn put her hand on his arm, smiled in that way that said a secret is a secret, and I have ones of my own. Standing high up on the wall, the wind blew and played with their hair. It was relentless, cool. So was the tone of Eowyn's voice. "If you think that there is something that needs be done, then see that it is, Faramir. You do not want this regret to haunt you 'til the end of days."

She spoke the truth. Faramir turned to her, took in the shape of her face. Did he see shadow flicker in the depths of her eyes? Some secrets bore sorrow of their own. Would she resent him, then? Or did she understand? Another flicker, and a small smile curved on her lips.

"What say you, then?"

"It would," he said to her. The Sun did not shine bright, and Faramir's eyes seemed lifeless and dull. He turned that gaze out over the fields beyond the city; it was a new day, but even the Sun could not wash away the signs of war. Only time would heal those wounds.

But was it so strong?

"Faramir?"

"I shall go to him, Eowyn. There is much I need to say."

"Then make sure you say it all."

When it came to it, though, there was little that Faramir could say.

He found the hobbits sitting in the garden, with Sam sitting closest to his master, and Frodo's cousins, Merry and Pippin, nearby, so that they formed a sort of circle around Frodo. It was Pippin who noticed Faramir first, smiling and beckoning him close.

"Good day!"

The others smiled, but Frodo's was warmest. A chorus of greetings welcomed him, but Frodo's was the only Faramir really seemed to hear. Like warm sunlight on a summer's day. Faramir smiled, crouched down. "How does the day find you, my friends?"

"Very well," said Pippin, with a decisive nod.

"I do not think that he was speaking to you," was Merry's response, turning from Pippin to grin at his elder cousin. Frodo laughed at that then shook his head. Pippin rolled his eyes and poked Merry's shoulder hard.

"It was open invitation, dear Merry."

"I think that you are mistaken, dear Pippin."

"I think that you are wrong."

"I'm sure that I was right."

Frodo laughed again, turning helpless eyes to Faramir. "Forgive their behaviour. It seems that they have forgotten how to act in civilised company."

But Faramir was smiling. "Oh, I do not mind. I came to ask something of you, Frodo, and I would not want to forget."

"Oh?" Frodo inquired.

Faramir sat back. "Well"

He couldn't find the words to go after that. It was Sam who spoke up next, a curious expression on his face. "What do you need from my Master, sir?" He tilted his head just slightly, looking to Frodo. Frodo met that gaze, then looked back to Faramir.

"Yes, Faramir, what can I do for you?"

"Well," said Faramir again. At length, he finished: "Would you walk with me in the gardens for a while?"

Frodo smiled, and Pippin made some sort of comment under his breath. Merry half-scoffed, half-laughed, and went to jab Pippin in the side. He thought better of it, and merely shook his head. "Honestly, you know. Tweens."

Pippin had no qualms about jabbing Merry in the side.

Frodo laughed very softly, like he wasn't laughing at all. "Yes, Faramir. I will walk with you in the gardens."

Faramir smiled, exhaled, a sigh of relief. He extended an arm to help Frodo up, but Frodo shook his head, still smiling. Faramir nodded at that, and it was Sam who helped Frodo to his feet. "If you need me, sir -" Sam started, but Frodo quieted him with a look.

"No, Sam, you needn't worry. I am sure that Faramir will take care of me." He looked to Faramir, grinned. "Won't you, Faramir?"

"On my honour," Faramir replied, bowing his head.

Sam clucked his tongue. "Well, see to it that you did, sir." He nodded his head sharply and Frodo shooed him away.

"Really now, Sam, I shall be all right. Sit with Merry and Pippin, won't you? I promise that I will return."

"Well, then all right. But take care."

Faramir was touched. They had gone through a lot, it was true. And now, Sam wasn't even sure if he wanted Frodo out of his sight, even for a little while. Frodo looked to Faramir. "Shall we go, then?"

Faramir nodded, and they walked side by side away from the trio left behind.

"I am sorry for that. I just don't think that we know how to be apart, not now."

"Do not worry, Frodo. I understand."

Frodo smiled, and it was that uncertain, sad smile again. He reached out to grip Faramir's arm. "This is more fitting, don't you think?" He looked to Faramir out of the corner of his eye.

"Ah, yes," Faramir replied, unsure. "I had wished to speak with you."

"Then speak," replied Frodo, bemused.

"You make it seem so simple," was Faramir's response. The silence settled down, then, and they walked along through it. Frodo's hands were strong, and Faramir's gaze strayed to the place of the missing finger. And Frodo did not urge him to speak, again. Faramir almost thought that the silence spoke louder than words.

"What did they mean, before? Your cousins, I mean."

Frodo chuckled. "Is that what you wished to ask of me, Faramir? That seems rather strange."

"Well, I am thinking about it now. And I would like it out in the open."

"Well," and Frodo lapsed into silence. They walked, and Faramir watched Frodo, the scenery faded into a deep green blur. Frodo turned to look up at him, and it took Faramir a moment to realise that they had stopped. For a moment, he could see deep into Frodo's eyes, all the silence that he held inside. When Frodo spoke again, they were more than just words.

"Before you arrived, I had spoken of you," he said, and they began to walk again. Faramir nodded, and Frodo went on. "And I thought that it would be terrible, Faramir, to go back to the Shire without knowing you as I could."

Faramir nodded at that, his voice was distant. "It won't be long."

"No, no. Not now."

Silence, again. Frodo's hand moved to clasp Faramir's, warm and strong. "I suppose that that is what you wished to tell me, then?" Faramir looked down in surprise. Frodo's smile was a secret, and Faramir was reminded of Eowyn. He smiled as well.

"Do you see so much?"

"More than you think," Frodo replied, amused. "It would be a tragedy, to never know."

"It would haunt us 'til the end of days."

"But it will not bring us forward, do you think?"

"Yes, but is better to know, than not."

Frodo closed his eyes, nodded. They were standing still again, and Faramir could see a much younger hobbit, behind Frodo's features. A time ago, before the troubles, before the Ring. And he was gone in an instant.?Faramir felt him drift away like fragments of a dream.

"Frodo"

Frodo opened his eyes, not smiling, but not frowning. "I would hate not knowing. There is so much that I - " His voice trailed off, abruptly. He forced his lips to take the shape of a smile. "It will be something to remember. Perhaps, when the nights are long and cold and you doubt the sun's return."

"Frodo"

And Faramir could say nothing more than that. It wouldn't be long, no, and Faramir would hold onto what he could. He knelt, and Frodo smiled, put his hands on Faramir's cheeks. "Your eyes, so fair, so strong," Frodo whispered. Faramir took one hand, kissed Frodo's palm.

"Oh, but they cannot rival the strength of these hands," he murmured against Frodo's skin, let his lips graze as his kisses wandered. Frodo sighed, closed his eyes. He let the fingers of his free hand slide into Faramir's dark hair. Oh, yes. This was something that could be held onto. This was something that would not have to go.

Faramir cupped Frodo's cheek with one hand, and pressed his lips to Frodo's. Suddenly what had been slow, surged with heat and, and Frodo clung to Faramir, kissing with what strength that he could summon. Faramir clung to Frodo, in the shade of the trees. And it was suddenly important to feel skin beneath his hands, and Faramir pulled at Frodo's clothing. And Frodo pulled at his. The memory of the moment was imprinted on their minds, heat and skin and kisses, touching, needing and wanting. It was a moment that captured forever.

And Frodo's kisses were sweeter, sadder, than Faramir thought could be.

When they said their farewells, Faramir knew in his heart that they were parting forever.