"That's fantastic. Tell me, did our aunt send you along with any...gifts?"
Who: Boromir, Faramir and cousin Lothiriel When: Recent Where: Denethor Haus What: Cousins show up with really weird presents from even weirder aunties Status: complete Rating: Pg-13 for .... statues.
Lothiriel always listened to her aunt, Ivriniel, ever since she was a little girl. Ivri had a great love of froofy hats, racy stories, and had never been shy with colorful advice on any number of subjects...and primarily sex education type subjects and the daily life of rich people topics. It was how Lothiriel learned how to pose for photographs at social events, always carry more than one condom, and what to look for in a good pair of sexy shoes. It wasn’t something her parents, especially her father, liked to think about or approved of. But it happened, and Lothi became like Ivriniel’s mini messenger of doom.
And since she had decided not to continue going to college, Lothiriel was on an adventure while being Auntie Ivri’s doom messenger. She had set sail from New York, all around the Caribbean, rented line men and paid her way through the Panama Canal, and sailed up along the Pacific coastline of Mexico, to California. Singlehandedly. That was after a full year of training with her Navy Admiral father, until he was satisfied that she could go it alone. While being tracked by satellite pings and credit card receipts, via the old ‘PUT IT ALL ON THE CARDS’ mentality. Imrahil was no idiot.
She liked the feel of the wind in her hair, and that was why Lothiriel was walking at a brisk pace, with two gift basket handles looped over each arm, and her phone in her hands. She made her way up the front path, both thumbs flying over the phone’s on-screen keyboard. To Faramir and Boromir, she had sent a mutual text, so there was no escape.
>> Hello, cousins! Or cousin, if only Faramir is at home! >> I come bearing gifts from afar! >> You can’t run, don’t even try, because...
The doorbell rang. More than once. Followed by a kickle foot knock on the door, while she balanced on one leg.
>> ...because that. :) :) :)
Oh yes, Ivri taught her well.
Ivri had been clever in a few ways. After all she'd grown up with Imrahil and she told Lothiriel to always always use just enough credit cards to reassure the old man and use cash for everything and anything that might make him question her sanity, sexuality or anything else one wouldn't want a family to know.
It was a towering, grumpy man who answered the door, looking down at his cousin with a critical eye. For a moment it seemed as if any number of lecture might burst forth, complete with yelling. But then Boromir burst into a grin and swept Lothi up into a bearish hug of ultimate doom.
Thank you, Aunt Ivriniel! It's not bad enough that Lothiriel was basically a socialite, but now she knew how to be sneaky. At least she wasn't like a Hilton or Kardashian, because no. Just no. And no sex tapes. That had been one of those conversations for when she was going on eighteen, and needed some schoolin' on how to try to keep things on the down low.
What daddy didn't know wouldn't hurt him! And as it was, she was always more interested in exciting adventures and traveling to different places, than she was with boyfriends or sexy parties.
Lothiriel had stared up at the grumpy man with wide greyish blue eyes, and dropped both gift baskets about one second before she was swept up into a bear hug. Cue an uncontrollable laughing fit, as she bent her legs back at the knees and kicked her feet around in the air, all while trying to hang on for dear life.
"Oh, Boromir!" she finally managed to get out past all of the laughing and having the air nearly squeezed right out of her. "It's so good to see you!"
Faramir peeked around the corner and smiled, drawing closer and quietly waiting until Boromir put her down. He half expected his brother to twirl her around and around until Lothi went staggering off like a little drunk girl. There was a vast difference between when that had happened before and if it happened now, and that was Lothiriel was no longer a little girl. And she was also in a place that made Faramir look deeply concerned for a few token seconds, before he masked it away. He had a promise to keep not to talk about dreams or odd things, and he meant to keep it.
On the up side? At least Lothiriel hadn't showed up when they were stuck as kids. That would have been...interesting.
Oh, Ivri had WORDS about sex tapes (and how to have fun with cameras and still control because sometimes it was fun, but never, ever send a naked selfie, because you can't trust those boys or girls these days. Show yourself off, but in a way where you stayed in control, dearie!
Aunti Ivri might have a sex tape or six out there...
"It's good to see you too, little swan." He set her down, still grinning like a loon.
Lothiriel had taken that advice and memorized it! She also heard rumors that Aunt Ivri had some sex tapes floating around, but there were some things that never needed to be seen. For once seen, they could not be unseen, and Ivri was no spring chicken, so to speak. Even so, Lothiriel had wondered if it was with some of her cabana boys, or the pool cleaner, or the gardener....
To summarize, Ivriniel was pretty liberal and free spirited. Ker-yeah. But, back to the story at hand....
"Little swan? I like that." She was grinning up at him and gave him one last squeeze, before letting go and rushing over to Faramir. He gave her the sort of hug that looked as though he didn't want to ever let go. Which was his style of hugging, since it was always better to let the other person decide when enough was enough.
"You look well, Lothiriel," he said, closing his eyes so he didn't give Boromir one of those stares like HOW DO WE GET HER OUT OF ORANGE COUNTY AS SOON AS POSSIBLE? His brother looked happy and he didn’t want to ruin that. "I didn't know you were flying in."
"I didn't! I sailed in. By myself. My boat's docked at Huntington Beach in a fancy marina, and I'll be staying on it for a little while, I've decided. The weather’s really nice here and I brought you both some prese---ow ow ow? Faramir, you're squeezing me harder than Boromir was!"
"Oh. Sorry," he said, being the first to let go for the first time in forever. "You're staying for a while?" There was a long pause. "That's great."
"I know, isn't it?" Lothi was all smiles about it. "Tell me what you've been up to!"
At least two of those were old 8mm from the 60s! Oh, Ivri's hayday. The 60s, how she missed that time of free love and weed.
Boromir was already enacting a plan that involved kidnapping her and sending her sailing back to New York.
"That's fantastic. Tell me, did our aunt send you along with any...gifts?" His face said it all.
Faramir's face reiterated it all, because he looked resigned to a terrible fate, both in helping his brother send Lothiriel back to New York (by sneaky reasoning with her), and the gifts were incoming. He knew it. It was as factual as the sun and moon in the sky, and day and night happening over and over again.
"She did! Here!" Lothiriel finally let go of Faramir, after giving him a chaste peck of a kiss against one side of his face, and she went diving for those gift baskets. It was easy to tell which one went to which cousin, since she was told to give Faramir 'the rainbow glitter one. “So proud of you!”
When Faramir was handed his gift basket and noted it was rainbow themed and glittery (perhaps with a card on it that said HURRAY YOU'RE GAY and several other things in it he didn't want to know about), he stared at it for a long moment in silence. Finally, slowly, he said, "Oh. She shouldn't have."
Meaning: She really shouldn't have, since Faramir only experimented for that blip in college, with kissing other men. It never went further than that, since he simply wasn't getting any spark off it, and he continued hanging out with those friends...even after coming to the realization that he didn't even swing both ways. Stare stare stare went Faramir at the gift basket. If he stared hard enough, maybe it would turn into a normal gift basket that contained coffee and chocolates.
"This one’s for yoooooou," Lothiriel cooed happily, holding out a gift basket to Boromir.
And yet Ivri had somehow found out about it as she was want to do and sent Faramir yearly coming out gifts. Because everyone should celebrate their sexuality. She had such fondness for her biker dyke phase...
Boromir took the basket with trepidation.
She really shouldn't have. Faramir knew it was going to be something, but had hoped against hope that it would be a normal gift for once. But no, alas, it was another coming out gift basket, and contained lube with a bow on it, he just now noticed, and several toys that he didn't even want to know what to do with them.
Lothi was smiling and clapped her hands together, while saying, "Go on, silly bear! Open it up!"
Inside was a gift basket that was manly in the way ancient Greeks were manly, mostly with slaves, and included a questionable 'art' book and several 'desk ornaments' that depicted man on man sex 'wrestling' action and animal on man gratification. It wasn't even the man on animal. It was animal on man. And a unicorn really shouldn't be doing that with it's horn, to be honest, but there you have it. Unicorn porn. Manly unicorn porn.
And a Hillshire Farm summer sausage. So there, Boromir got something to eat. That was meaty. And phallic.
"She gives the best gifts," Lothiriel said, clasping her hands together so she would stop clapping so much.
"Yes, the best," Faramir said, while checking out a gift coupon to a local sex store. He looked at Boromir and then said, like he was noting that it was sunny outside, "Oh. You got a big sausage. Lucky you."
"She really should have given you some cheese too, to go with some wine," Lothi cheerfully interjected, "but maybe she was worried it was perishable? No one wants you getting food poisoning and pooping your pants when you were in public, running for office. Could you imagine?"
Faramir tried to hold in a snerk.
The man rubbed his hand up and down his jaw, staring with a smile plastered to his face while he took in the complete and utter monstrosities that had been presented to him. It made him want to go out and find a woman post-haste to prove his manliness.
"Ah yes, that would be terrible. I already know where to put all this." In a safe, below ground, with explosives strapped to it.
Faramir was of like mind, since he was considering burying his gift basket in one of the rose gardens to either side of the house. Which might work, considering Ivri had put flower seeds into that gift basket, with a note that said something about maybe taking up some decorating hobbies, like interior or exterior design projects.
"I'll tell her that you loved the gifts," Lothiriel said, looking and sounding very pleased since she had completed her task as messenger of doom presents. "Now, please please please tell me all about the things you have done since we last saw one another. It's been so long!"
"I'm still teaching and I still live here, for the time being," replied Faramir, in an almost hushed tone of voice. It was as though he was mulling over a great many other things, that had nothing to do with the here and now right in front of him. "So everything you might have heard about my life being mundane, is sadly true. I'm afraid it is not very exciting, Lothiriel."
"Aww. But? You mentioned for the time being," Lothiriel pointed out, flashing a sly smile. "Are you thinking of moving out, finally?"
"Perhaps. I am weighing out my options."
"There's a big wide world out there to see, and you should come see part of it with me sometime. You too!" She playfully jabbed a fist at Boromir's arm. It wasn't a WHAM punch or anything, since Lothiriel was slender and didn't have much oomph behind her punchiness. "You're going to get so busy with running for office, that you forget to stop and smell the roses!"
"This is true, brother. We all know how much you enjoy rose scented things. Perhaps there is a rose scented candle to go with your unicorn statuette."
“Brother, perhaps you ought to move in with me, get away from the toxic influence of our father.” Boromire really loved his family, but he could see what Denethor did to Faramir’s self-esteem, even now.
“And I do not like roses. They are prickly.” He huffed, and set the box down, then nudged it away with his foot. Casual-like.
"He's not...toxic," Faramir protested, albeit in a way that didn't sound like protesting. It sounded more thoughtful, like he was choosing his words as carefully as ever. He was also hugging onto his own gift basket. There was no escaping gifts from Ivriniel, after all. Bury them when it’s safe, after the dust had settled. Not in the moment or before the time was right. "We do not relate well to one another, due to our differences on how we do things. Or how I do not do things as I should, rather. And so, things are forever divided, between us."
He sighed heavily enough that his shoulders rose and fell.
Lothiriel looked from Boromir, to Faramir, and back again. She picked up the basket that Boromir's foot had nudged away, and chimed in, "Roses smell good, even if they have thorns. The thorns protect them so they stay pretty and only get sniffed or looked at. No touchy. And daddy says that Denethor's never been the same since your mother died, which would change anyone...wouldn't it? Boromir's right! You should get out for a little while and not be stuffed in this big house with someone you can't relate with. You can stay with him and I’ll take us all sailing to Catalina and all sorts of fun things, while I'm here!"
She smiled brightly, while holding out the gift basket out for Boromir to take again. No escape. Gift doom.
"That is wise counsel, from the both of you." Faramir was clearly mulling it over. "Do not think I am not heeding the words from either of you, for I can not be my father's keeper and he would not want to be kept in such a capacity, either. Perhaps I will stay with you for a time, Boromir, and we can see if my thoughts change, from there."
Boromir took the basket with a tired expression on his face. He mouthed the word ‘toxic’ at Faramir. It was a word he’d learned on the internet. On that tumblr thing. FARAMIR of all people should know it. Hah! Take that, Brother, using your own liberal brainwashing website against you!
“Then it is settled, we’ll move you in, post haste!” He glanced at Lothi and winked.
"That's fantastic," gushed Lothi, clapping her hands again and vibrantly grinning at her cousin. She gave Boromir a not-so-discreet wink and looked like she was ready to dive in and get started.
Faramir managed not to eyeroll. Somehow. It was a hard task but not impossible, even when he gave his brother a look like he does know about the toxic word, yes, he knew that was obtained from tumblr, and he's a little bit proud that his brother even went on tumblr to learn that.
"Temporarily," Faramir attempted to point out, to anyone who was listening.
"Are there any boxes? Let's box up everything, right now," Lothiriel suggested, not even looking at Faramir but up at Boromir, instead. "I don't have anywhere to be, right away. I can help! I’ve literally never helped anyone move before. I know there’s boxes and tape! Do you have tape?"
"...this is a temporary living situation," Faramir further tried to interject, even if he knew it was going to be futile, and that his father would probably be relieved to have the family's black sheep out from under his roof. "Until I decide what steps to take, after."
“We have a dozen empty boxes in the basement, all of them are useful for moving. They’re moving crates.” Manly blue, even. Boromir nodded at her. “We will not even need tape and we can probably squeeze most of my brother’s possessions into half of them.”
Pause.
“How did you talk your father into letting you do this?”
"This is only..." Faramir stopped and simply shook his head, since Lothiriel shushed him. Resistance was obviously futile. He waved it off with both hands. "I'll get some of the boxes."
"Ok, you do that!" Lothiriel said, putting her hands on her hips as she faced Boromir. "It took several skillful debates about how pointless it is to learn oceanography or sociology in a classroom when there's a big wide world out there to go learn it in. I also don’t want to be old and gray when I’m sailing, like most people do when they retire. I was really very tired of being paraded around in designer clothes and being proper at dinner parties, and I wanted a boat. When he realized this wasn't some flight of fancy, he got me the bestest boat...oh, you should see it! And he took me out on it for a year and more or less barked orders at me while I scrambled around doing all the things. And then, after that time, I was declared seaworthy, and here I am."
She grabbed hold of Boromir's elbow with both hands, saying, "It was so much fun when the waves got rough and the winds were whipping around and there was only me and the sea, and the boat, of course. It was wild and wonderful. My hair was flying around and messy and no one was there to tell me to fix it! And that’s the story of how I'm going to sail around the world, only not all at one time. I’m going slow and stopping a lot."
Faramir walked by with some blue boxes and stacked them up at the bottom of the big staircase, but he was giving Boromir the stare of 'Please let us find a way to get her to sail off and see the world sooner than later before crazy happens to the baby cousin.'
Permanent, if Boromir had his say in it. Leave father to his peace and hope he never finds out about the dreams, because then he'd disown both sons and where would that leave him?
"well I'm sure our Uncle knows better than anyone about boats." Certainly more than he or Faramir knew. "And after all of that you still wanted to sail? And you sailed alone?! IS YOUR FATHER MAD?!"
He looked like he was going to pick up the phone and give Imrahil a bellowing at.
"Daddy does. You know he was an admiral! He said he had to be mad to let me do that, but I put my foot down like this." Lothi raised one foot up and put down firmly on top of Boromir's foot. Lucky for him, she was wearing canvas tennis shoes and not heels. Before he could react, she gave him a pointy index finger directed upward to the tippy tip of his nose. "This is not the stone age and I will not be forced to be bored out of my mind, living like an obedient little socialite to make everyone else happy. I want my boat, I want it now, and I am going to sail it right up anyone's ass if they get in my way. Including you, if I have to."
Then she removed her foot and folded both hands demurely in front of her, giving him the most beatific smile in her entire arsenal of smiles.
"And that's when daddy finally said yes." Lothiriel finished her tale, using a deceptively innocent tone of voice. "Auntie Ivri approved and then gave me loads of tips and pointers." To get around being tracked, but Lothi is smart enough not to mention that tidbit of intel. Shhh.
"..........." Faramir was left staring in absolute silence, like he wasn't even sure if he could reason with that sort of...reasoning. Why are girls so grawrr? Seriously. Why?
It still hurt like a bitch and he yowled. Mostly out of surprise, because she’s tiny. He opened his mouth and out poured the bellow. “Lothiriel you are going to stay with us like a civilized human being and that’s the end of it!”
Indeed, she was tiny. She was also insulted! Her mouth dropped open like OH NO, SHE DID NOT JUST HEAR THAT COMING OUTTA SOMEONES MOUTH UP IN HEYUH.
The sound of Faramir's palm meeting his face was as clear as a clap of thunder.
"I will do no such thing," Lothiriel protested, folding both arms defensively in front of her. "Don't make me bust a mast off and smack you with it, cousin! Where there's a will, there's a way...and I will find a way."
"Peace. Both of you," Faramir finally intervened, stepping between them before eardrum shattering bellowing and beatings with a ship's mast somehow happened. "I believe, unless I am mistaken, that our cousin is...regretfully...old enough to make her own decisions...."
"...regretfully?" Lothiriel breathed out the word, like she is not hearing that come out of the sensible cousin's mouth.
"...and so, we can not force her to stay with us. Yes, regretfully. For you are new to the area and things are yet unfamiliar to you." Faramir gave her a look like he meant what word he had chosen. It was not enough to give up any information about dreams or strange happenings, although Boromir would undoubtedly pick up on the unfamiliar remark. "I would prefer if you let us help watch over you while you are here, so that no harm befalls you. That is even if we have no wish to infringe upon your freedoms. You are free to sail off as you wish, when you wish, of course."
And that is the point that Faramir looked at Boromir like it was a huge hint that sailing off is a great idea, before they somehow are dealing with 3 year old Lothiriel. Does anyone else remember 3 year old Lothiriel? Faramir does.
Lothiriel looked at Faramir strangely and then looked at Boromir, with squinty eyes.
Boromir reached over and picked up Lothi, throwing her over his shoulder. "Naaay. She will stay with us, because we are family and we should have the pleasure of her company." See? Boromir could be diplomatic. Even if he was still bellowing. "I am not saying to take her away from her little boat, I am saying she will stay with us while she is in Orange County!"
"Boromir, no!" Faramir protested, narrowly avoiding getting kicked in the face by angry feet. He leaned off to one side and tried to use applied reasoning. "I didn't mean watching over in that manner, where she must stay with us. She's not a child any longer. We can not tell her what to do, or she will rebel against you in particular. Please stop?"
"That's damn right, please stop! No means no!" There went fists pound-a-pounding against Boromir's back. "I am not a damsel in distress and I have a good safe marina to stay in that is very high class and has security! I am a grown woman! I am over twenty-one and can make my own decisions, you big bellowing brute! Put me down!" There was a pause as she went suddenly limp as a wet noodle and then an ominous RAWRR noise, where Lothi bit Boromir on the back right through his clothes. And more RAWRR as the bitey looked ready to continue onward into teeth pinchy n’ clinchy oblivion, only with renewed poundy fists and kicky feets.
Upset tiny young woman was UPSET.
"OW JESUS CHRIST!"
Boromir's bellow woke the dead and by reflex he flung Lothiriel away from him and right towards his brother. He look stupified for a moment, as Lothiriel sailed through the air in slow motion, as though thinking 'that was a bad idea'.
Because that really was a bad idea.
Catch, Faramir!
There was one long, seemingly unending squeak from the self-defense-on-the-high-seas guru. Biting? Seriously. Who does that? Thus Lothiriel flew like a little rag doll with flaily arms, right into Faramir's flailed open arms. He caught her, quite expertly in fact, but the flinging of their cousin caused him to stagger back, fall, and land on his bum, with Lothiriel on top of him. She was actually clinging onto him like a spider monkey because holy cow, what was....
All right, nevermind thinking it? She was going to say it.
"What has gotten into you!" Lothi squeaked indignantly, giving Boromir a stern staring at that could rival anything her father could muster up, and a pout that was purely her own. "Who throws someone? I will be twenty-two this year, that's more than old enough to be on my own, I'll have you know. And thank god you were nowhere near that college I was going to, when all those parties were going on. I would've never had any fun at all!"
Faramir was rubbing the back of his head with one hand, all while scrunching one eye up. He did see fit to say, "It probably had to do with you biting him?"
"Yes, well? I felt like I was going to be locked in a high tower for a century, and never let out!" She pointed at Boromir like she's got her eye on you. In fact, she pointed at her eyes, and then back at him. Spunkily. Then she mouthed the words 'I'm onto you' and it did resemble her father. She had learned that maneuver from him, since he used it so often on her brothers.
Boromir just glared at her, then folded his arms stubbornly and weathered her staring and her bluster like a rock in a storm. Then he mimiced the 'eye on you' thing right back at her. As though that couldn't possibly deter him ONCE HIS MIND HAS BEEN MADE UP.
"This is our aunts influence, it has to be."
Oh yeah? Lothiriel did it again, right back at him. Take that. Double dog dare you. HER MIND IS MADE UP TOO, OK?
"It is not. I made up my own mind," she told him, standing up on her own two feet and then offering Faramir a hand, so she could lean back and pull until he was standing too. "Aunt Ivri has nothing to do with this. I am a grown woman!"
"A grown woman, indeed. One which I would implore to give me but a moment alone with my brother. If you wouldn't mind getting started on packing up some books, it is up the stairs, to the left, the second door."
"I don't mind a bit." Lothiriel gave Faramir a strange look at the formal way of speaking, but forgot about it as she stomped off toward the blue boxes at the bottom of the staircase. She took one box in one hand, stomped a foot down for good measure, picked up another in the other hand, and up the stairs she went. Her nose was up in the air. Feet were a-stomping. Stompedy stomp stomp. STOMP. Stomp stomp. Take that!
"May I ask what it is that you think you are you doing?" Faramir asked once Lothiriel was out of earshot, and he looked worried but not irritable about the entire affair. "You threw our cousin over your shoulder like you were going to make off with her and then tossed her aside when she bit you. Which, might I point out, most girls would do if they were being held against their will. She will not trust us, and will sneak about for the time that she is here, if we are not careful on how we proceed."
He let out a long breath and just glowered at his brother. Then he deflated like a balloon. “I know not what possessed me. Only that the situation is out of my control and that I overreacted.” He glanced up the stairs, and sighed. “I do not like this.”
"You are worried, as am I. Whereas Ivriniel would have thought it fantastic, Imrahil could not have known the danger of letting her sail to this place in particular," Faramir patiently pointed out, resting one hand on his brother's shoulder. "I do not like it, either," admitted Faramir, "although seeing one of our cousins would have been most welcome under any other circumstance. It is also difficult to not think of her as being much younger, when we did not have the opportunities to see one another with any regularity. You acted, she reacted. Let us leave it at that, and try to keep her safe as we can, without smothering her or making her suspicious."
He was thoughtful for a long moment, before he voiced those thoughts aloud, "I do not think it is wise to mention that network. If the dreams are linked to one being on there, then strange circumstances might afflict her, as well. I think it is best we should be gracious hosts, good cousins, and then encourage her to travel onward. In that manner, we might keep her safe, instead of rousing her innate curiosity. What do you think?"
As ever, he looked to Boromir for input.
"No, she'll find out eventually and I'd rather she find out from us," Boromir said. "I've dreamed our Uncle is Imrahil there, too, therefore it's likely that she will dream now that she's here. I'd rather prepare her for the inevitable. She's less likely to think us mad, as well, than father.”
"I too dreamed of Uncle Imrahil. But I thought you wished to keep this matter quiet, and so I was taking that into account." Faramir sighed and nodded in agreement. "I think you underestimate our father, who has just ordered ten more glass globes, some of them with miniatures and snow within. He is always locked in his study. He did not react with shock or surprise to my being younger, at all. I think he is mad already."
After looking worried again about that and wondering if moving out was the right idea, Faramir asked, "Do we tell her now or shall we wait a day, sit her down, and explain it more properly? I do not want any harm to befall our family, immediate or extended."
“I think we made need more help.” He was loathe to admit it. The thought made his nose wrinkle. It wasn’t cute. It was disturbing. It was a look that DID NOT BELONG ON HIS FACE.
“At least he is not locked away in the top of that tower, doing whatever it is he does there.” Boromir let out a sigh. “We’ll tell her now. In fact, there is something I’ve been keeping in the trunk of my car. Let me go get it.”
"If we must tell her, we must. I am also all for hiring more servants, even if I fail to see what is better about having him locked in a tower, compared to locked in a study. He is bound to be up to something," Faramir said. He did look interested in what it was that Boromir had brought with him. "That is odd. There is something in my room that she is bound to find."
He wasn't sure how it happened, but when he had been turned to a child was the night he dreamed of listening to tales upon tales from an old wizard named Mithrandir, and the morning he awoke and was in his own body again, there were many old scrolls and aged books on the desk in his room.
In fact, upstairs, Lothiriel had gingerly opened one of the books with a fingertip and peeked in, noting that it looked incredibly old and handwritten in a strange language. Unable to read it, she had left all of the really old things for Faramir to pack. She went for the clothes in the closet, instead.
Boromir returned from his car carrying a case wrapped in cloth. When he unveiled it, inside was a horn, the sort of which was blown to signal warriors. It was ornate, with the symbols of a country that did not exist, and looked well cared for, if old. “This.”
Faramir stared at the Horn of Gondor in shocked silence, not even daring to touch it. He looked from it up to Boromir, with uncertainty showing openly in his expression. There was no rational explanation for how this might be, just as there wasn’t for how they had both temporarily ended up as children.
It was a long moment before he dared to say what he had received, which he did in a very hushed voice, "And so you were given your birthright. And I was given my books and scrolls from Minas Tirith. I awoke to find them on my desk, in the same manner I was accustomed to leaving them arranged, when in my dreams. You do realize, that should she not believe us, then Lothiriel might think us mad and then she may sail off on her own, to get away from us. Unless that is part of your plan."
Yes Faramir, you don't want to touch Boromir's horn of Gondor, that would be dirty. Boromir frowned. "What's next, my sword and shield?" He looked around, as if expecting those items to fall out of the ceiling and then land on his head.
"Yes, that is my plan." He darted his eyes. That was totally his plan. Really.
Even Faramir knows it's bad touchy.
"Or my bow and arrows," Faramir wondered, glancing upward and hoping that none of those things rained down upon them. He shook his head as though to remove the thought of it from his head, should that give the entire county good enough reason to make it so. "If that is your plan then, brother, I will go along with it. Lead on! But know that it is going to be more difficult, if we let her know, she believes it, and then she tells others. Which I thought you did not want to happen."
Boromir grimaced. “At least yours would have some practical use in sport. Mine would only be mere decoration. There are no orcs here to slay.”
He pondered that. “We need her to understand she cannot speak to our family about this.”
"Perhaps you need not use it against orcs," he suggested, "but against any other foes you wish to protect yourself or others from. There may be use for it, yet. We know not."
Suddenly, Faramir smiled like it would all be fine as the pieces fell into place, with how they might make this work.
"We are also in luck," he further explained, while moving toward the staircase and keeping an eye on Boromir, to see if he was ready to follow. If not, then he would wait until they had things sorted out further, before proceeding. "Lothiriel was basically raised to be a socialite. Not of the media loving variety, either, but the sort that knows when to keep family business quiet. Imrahil never liked making family issues into public ones. See there? You have raised a very good point, indeed. If we explain this to her, reasonably, and not treat her like a child, then she may remain quiet."
“I have a revolver for that,” Boromir protested. He did love his sword, but it wasn’t a very practical weapon to carry around without people growing concerned.
“Then we will treat her like an adult until she gives us cause not to,” Boromir decided.
"I believe I will always prefer a bow to a gun. But each to their own," Faramir said, waiting at the bottom of the stairs for his brother. "I also think we must give her the benefit of the doubt. Even if she gives us cause, she is still an adult. However, I think it wise to prevent her from making grave mistakes, or preventing her from engaging in dangerous behavior."
That seemed more the route of guiding, while not being heavy handed about it.
Meanwhile, upstairs, Lothiriel was having a fine time folding and packing her cousin's things. No one ever let her do that at home, since the housekeepers would be called in, organizational specialists would streamline everything, and then the movers would move or ship things. All of the fun of moving or packing to travel was taken out of things. She wanted to do things like order cheap delivery pizza and drink a beer, out of the can, and rent a uhaul.
Was that so difficult? She didn’t think it was. Not really. And she has zero idea that she is about to have her parade rained down on, with a heavy drizzle of crazy sauce.
A bow was pretty elegant he had to admit. But Boromir loves himself some guns. He had like thirty. And he kept them all cleaned and he fired them once a month.
Boromir sighed and looked up the stairs. "I loathe this. She should be free to be youthful and stupid."
Faramir paused and frowned, then he sighed as though he was defeated by that mere statement, as well.
"I can think of no other way, none that we have not already mentioned," was Faramir's carefully thought out reply. "If you think that we should not, and leave Lothiriel to her own devices while we keep a watchful eye from a respectable distance? Then I can agree to that. Otherwise, I will defer to your judgment, that we should tell her and thereby treat her as the adult she seems to want to be treated as. More so, that side of the family has never been the type to shy away in adversity, even if they know when it is best to act or to remain quiet for the sake of saving face."
He took one step up on the staircase, but paused again, looking to his brother to say yea or nay to continuing, "This would have the most bearing on you, should it go awry. Neither of us are running for office as you are. If it eases your worries? I also do not think Lothiriel would speak offhandedly if you explained it to her, and that she would remain discreet."
“What do you think, brother? What would your counsel be in this?” He gestured up the stairs towards their cousin, and then in a more general ‘wtf is going on around us’ around the two of them. “I am thinking that there is nothing that can be helped, in regards to that.”
"I will always say it is better to be honest, than not," Faramir replied. "Even if we appear to be insane. It has set me ill at ease, remaining quiet about this matter. Let us tell her, and the worst she can do is to laugh on our faces, thinking it all to be in jest."
"I think the horns will help, and your dusty old scrolls" Boromir decided. Now that there was a course set, he was ready to go, full steam ahead, like a boat cutting through the ice!
Faramir followed his brother's lead, since it was wisest not to get in the way of any sort of ice breakers! One was liable to get smashed into and then go under.
In the room, Lothiriel was humming away and had just ran out of space in the boxes. She was about to get some more, when she opened the door and spied Boromir there. She promptly gave him a stink-eye stare, to let him know she wasn't quite over what had happened downstairs. She's girly stubborn! Maybe someday, he can be her favorite cousin again. Someday.Truth told? It will probably be back to normal in less than twenty minutes, and she will think Boromir is awesome and actiony, and Faramir is back to being a super book nerd.
Boromir pointed at Lothiriel. POINT! “You! Tell me if you’ve spent any time on the internet since you’ve gotten here? Specifically the localized social network? There is something about it we must share and we absolutely need to know if you have perused it!”
These words came out in a bellow, but not an angry bellow, just the sort of excited I am imparting information bellow that Boromir was so good at. “You will think us mad but right now I care not!”
For a couple of shocked seconds, Faramir stared at the back of his brother’s head.
Meanwhile, Lothiriel looked ready to huck a box of Faramir's belongings at Boromir, but she managed to retain some measure of regal bearing and stated, VERY CLEARLY (i.e. a near bellow albeit of a decidedly girly variety), "Does Facebook and Tumblr count? I care so, because I am not giving up my kitties in clothes on my Tumblr dash! Why are you talking funnier than usual!"
She pointed back at them both, just as Faramir raised up both hands in a classic 'do not shoot the messenger' gesture.
"Please, hear us out. Boromir is right, in that you might think us mad for what we are about to tell you, and it may seem like a flight of fancy, but we have proof to back our claims."
"You're talking funny too," Lothiriel said, noting that they both seemed ultra serious face about this. She could really use cats in clothes right about now. Or that beer and pizza. Why oh why couldn't she be raised in a lower-middle class, blue collar family, where things were semi normal? Oh well. Curiosity killed the cat, even if it had a froofy people hat on, and Lothiriel’s curiosity was piqued. "Ok, you can come in. I want to know what’s going on, here."
She stepped aside, without any mention of the fact it was Faramir's room...even if only for the time being. But if anyone gives her any grief, she will bust that door off she’s holding onto and smack them with it. That would be after much effort, because she has the skinny toothpick arms. Don't stare at your mun funny. You so do.
"There is no easy way to say this, but there is something fel in this county," Boromir said, with all due seriousness. "I have been witness to strange occurrences and dreams that I've shared with others, that feel far more real than even this does, right this moment. What's more is I, Faramir, and numerous others have been visited by some sort of twisted sociopath, leaving strange objects in our closets. Such as those books and scrolls, and this." He held up the horn.
While Lothiriel's reaction was silence and raised eyebrows, Faramir gave his older brother one of those side-eye glancing ats at the mention of sociopaths. It was time to try to clarify, which was why Faramir picked up one of the aged books from his desk and opened it.
"I know it sounds mad, Lothiriel, but you must hear us out. This is not...it's not a joke,” he rephrased, before he used the word ‘jest’. “I do not feel that it is the work of sociopaths, as I do that it is something altogether mystical and strange. Boromir is not telling a tall tale, for the horn is that which we knew of in dreams, and belonged to my brother. And these books and scrolls once belonged to me, when I was young and listened to the tales of...elderly men who smoked too much and greatly enjoyed setting things ablaze."
Someone also didn’t want to use the wizard word. That someone was Faramir.
Lothiriel pressed her lips together, looking from one to the other. Eventually she reached out, and poked a finger at Boromir's horn. Oh yes she did. And it did not feel like plastic or that it was made in China, which made her frown a little bit.
"Well, you're not exactly poor, so maybe that's some smuggled poached horn from Africa. Or maybe not," she finally said. “You are both worrying me a little bit. Because you seem so serious about this."
"We are." Faramir held out the book to show Lothiriel the writing within. "This language is Westron. It is, in part, derived from Adunaic, of Numenor." And with that, Faramir read aloud an excerpt in something that probably made zero sense to Lothiriel, but that Boromir could understand:
'As Beren looked into her eyes Within the shadows of her hair, The trembling starlight of the skies He saw there mirrored shimmering. Tinúviel the elven-fair, Immortal maiden elven-wise, About him cast her shadowy hair And arms like silver glimmering.'
"Those are lyrics about the Elven maiden Luthien, and her mortal lover, Beren," he explained, in plain English. "Of which I believe there is a Luthien on that network, and I must find a way to meet her."
"....huh. Well? I do know little bits of French, Spanish, Italian, German, Japanese, and a itsy bitsy bit of Arabic," Lothiriel said, speaking slowly. "That's nothing I've ever heard, ever, even when we tried to look up questionable foreign videos in college, like things from Thailand. Boromir, don't ask. Yes, they were so offensive." She folded her arms over herself and eyed them both. "You really are serious about dreams, sociopaths, mystic Elven things, and social networks?"
There was the world's longest pause, before she burst into a huge smile and her arms flew open to hug onto them both. "That is simply FANTASTIC."
Boromir nodded his head, then squinted at his brother. "Luthien, as in the elf-maiden who some poor mortal fell in love with? Is here?! They say that there is one much like here, and I did lay eyes upon that woman, in Imladris..." And Arwen had indeed been so very beautiful. Heartwrenchingly so.
He blinked when Lothi hugged them. "You think we're not mad?"
"I believe it is one and the same, and I confess that I would like to find out. Simply for curiosity's sake, not to hit on her. That would be uncouth," Faramir managed to say, before he realized he was being uber glomped by a cousin that was bouncing in place while skeezing onto them both. If he was worried that Lothiriel was going to think they were mad, he was considering that she just might be a little bit mad, herself.
"Absolutely not! I think it's very exciting and I can't wait to sign up," gushed Lothiriel. "This is like the goodie bags they have backstage at those ceremony shows! You get free swag. You never know what's going to be in the bag, but it's always really nice stuff that you didn't know you wanted until you have it."
If she smiled any harder, her face might crack into two pieces and the top part of her skull would flippy right off and fall onto the floor.
"If she is anything like the Lady Arwen, you may find it difficult not to," Boromir admitted. It was mad, but it was true. Elves were hot and Boromir was hot blooded, t'would be a lie to say he hadn't made a pass at Arwen. Not that he'd ever admit it.
Instead he stared at his cousin like she was mad. "These dreams are not entirely pleasant."
Blunt Boromir is blunt. “In fact they’re quite horrible.”
"I will manage," Faramir whispered, because had enough willpower to behave himself. And that is why he was so adept at minding his manners around those of the female persuasion. He did support his brother's opinion though, "Boromir is right. The dreams can take a dire turn, but there is still some measure of hope, in that we are all still related in them. At least there is that to rely upon."
"I think it's fantastic and strange," a giddy Lothiriel chimed in, giving them both a squeeze before letting go and taking a step back. "You mean we were all still related, as in all of us, and that means I was in them. I want to have one of these dreams right away. Tell me how! I want to know every detail, including what you ate or talked about online!"
"I did not really do anything in particular," Faramir said, trying to hide a wince. "And we need not remind you, that Boromir is running in an election, and such talk would reflect poorly. We must be mindful of that, when speaking of dreams on social networks."
And that is where Lothiriel's lips pursed out as though she had sucked on a sour lemon, and that lemon had a sticker on the side that said BOROMIR and probably had a badly doodled characterture of his face looking equally sour, depicted upon it. You, sir, are a....PARTY POOPER.
Boromir opened his mouth, and then closed it, and then opened it again. "That is why we told you, because you are related there, and you should know what is to come. Nor do I know how to make the dreams happen. They just do."
Lothiriel stared at them both, like she was watching a tennis match at Wimbledon. She had been there and done that before, and didn't really want to go do it again, other than maybe to smile and wink at cute tennis guys that were wearing short shorts.
That was beside the point, because she was used to the lectures and talks about minding one's self in public, and she didn't to jeopardize her cousin's political ambitions. After all, she came from one of those military families, and was daddy's little angel, because she knew how to work the system a little bit. Which was why she sighed and smiled, politely, and nodded in agreement. And that was without any trace of wanting to be sneaky or stomp on Boromir's foot again, or anything devious her aunt might have taught her.
"I understand. I'll try my best to make sure that it's our secret. But! Because I'm keeping this important family secret along with the other family secrets I may or may not be keeping, hint hint, I require a few things." Lothiriel tapped a finger very lightly against her chin, while looking thinky. "First and foremost! I will not have either of you breathing down the back of my neck. I will go dancing, and drinking, and shopping whenever I'd like. After we are done moving, I want a whole pizza from Dominos, for myself, and a six pack of the cheapest beer you can find. Oh! And we move all the things by u-haul. Which I will drive. No additional help necessary. Now? I will have your word and we will do all this, today, or I will disown you."
She smiled so sweetly, that it was like she had been happily babbling about baby animals and the froofiest of hats.
"...I shall comply, if Boromir is in agreement," conceded Faramir, after a brief moment of silence. And to Boromir he said in a low whisper, well under his breath, "Father would not have turned this into a parley of sorts. Nor made demands that you, in particular, will find difficult to keep."
And lo, but her aunt had taught her many devious things, most of which Boromir was unaware of and would end up pulling his hair out over. This was why he never wanted children, ever, not in a million years. His eyes narrowed. "You are making ransom demands for your silence? Fine, so be it. But must it be cheap beer? At least drink something that's not utter shit."
Ooh, he said a bad word.
"It's not shit," countered Lothiriel, without batting an eyelash at the bad word usage. Boromir didn't know how many f-bombs she had dropped on the way from New York to Florida, because there was no one on the boat to tell her no. "I'm tired of fancy microbrews or imported stuff, like the things daddy drinks when he thinks no one is looking. I want the cheapest swill, in a can, that we can find. Preferably at somewhere novel, like a seven-eleven. Let’s slum it!"
She clapped her hands together, followed by clasping them there, because the mere thought was EXCITE.
"Boromir," Faramir said very softly, "these things are minor, and she is not asking for more than that. Let us simply drink the cheap beer, and be glad she wants beer and not mimosas."
Aunt Ivri probably lived off those things, from the time she had breakfast, to the time she went to bed at night.
"I will not budge when it comes to alcohol," Boromir said stubbornly. He folded his arms. "I can accept the rest of it, and even you drinking whatever you wish except for swill. I cannot abide something that tastes that bad." Bud Lite was a crime against nature, even for 'MERICA Boromir.
Mostly because it tasted horrible.
"I want Budweiser," Lothiriel replied, unbudging. "You drink what you want, and I will be able to say that I have at least had one can of crappy swill after moving boxes, ourselves, to and fro from a run down and possibly dangerous U-haul truck."
Faramir looked as though he was going to roll his eyes up into his head so hard, that they became permanently stuck that way. He stepped between them, before either side could start digging trenches and settling in for what looked to be an extended battle of wills.
"Boromir, you may have your fancy beer, but let Lothiriel have her moment of drinking what she wishes, before you insist she drink something better. Let us rejoice that the bulk of my belongings are books. It will not take long to pack those away, and we should be done, shortly."
With a sigh, and feeling a fair amount of guilt, Faramir added, "I must go tell father that I am leaving. I will do that, privately, when we are ready to depart."
It's not like he expected Denethor to insist he stay or anything. He would likely only be glanced at between reading, and have a hand waved dismissively.
Meanwhile, Lothiriel was whispering at Boromir, "I am so going to drink some cheap ass Bud. Right in front of you. While tapdancing."
That probably wasn't possible, but she was going to give it a good try. These two obviously needed noogies and to poke each other with sticks, even if Lothiriel loved her big lug of an obstinate cousin to bits and pieces. In her mind, she is mentally tweeting things like: He's such a bombastic retard but I <3 him anyway.
"I don't even care if it's a fancy beer!" Boromir's voice was rising to a bellow. "I DON'T EVEN LIKE FANCY BEERS! I LIKE BEERS THAT DO NOT TASTE LIKE SHITE!"
Clearly, this was something he wouldn't budge on. Cheap whiskey? Great. Fucking moonshine? Also great. But beer that tastes bad? Not great.
Boromir at some point had a traumatic experience involving bad beer, that has scarred him so against ever letting such things in his presence.
"It's SHIT! SHIIIIIIIT! Not SHITE!" Lothiriel protested, putting her hands on her hips. "And lots of people drink it, or they wouldn't still be in business. This is my life experience, so you can stick to your own, if it offends your tastebuds so much!"
With that, Lothiriel turned her head to one side, and put her nose up in the air. Then, she said in a profoundly light and airy tone of voice, "You are being obnoxious. That's why you are no longer my favorite cousin."
"Please stop, both of you. No one is playing favorites with...wait," Faramir said, giving Lothiriel an a somewhat wounded stare, because he has just realized he wasn't the favorite.
"Faramir's my favorite now," Lothiriel said, pointing an index finger at the emotionally wounded cousin's face. "He doesn't attempt to trample on my beer drinking rights."
“SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITE!” Boromir bellowed so loudly, that one of his father’s crystal balls bounced off of it’s stand, and then started to roll inexorably down the shelf. It knocked into another, and then another, until there was a cascading avalanche of crystal balls.
For a big man, Boromir could move fast, and he dove forward, catching crystal balls as they fell, as though he were saving all the halflings.
Pervy Hobbit fancier!
Why Faramir had crystal balls anywhere near his room, upstairs, he wasn’t certain. But he imagined that his father had left them in every room by this point, for some odd reason or other...which might just include trying to get Faramir to move out.
Denethor: *...maybe.*
Despite all the things, Lothiriel did not budge and in fact she 'helpfully' put out one foot and toed a crystal ball to help it roll along faster.
Faramir was the one who stepped forward and stopped it, while giving her a stare like she should know better.
"You are both loud enough to rouse the dead," he told them both. He sounded like he was done with messing around, saying very firmly, "Enough, the both of you. Boromir, she is not a child. Lothiriel can drink what she wants, even if it is deemed unsophisticated. And Lothiriel? You should not fan the flames of Boromir's temper, when you know from experience that it is highly combustible. I shall swiftly reach the point where I will not be going anywhere, other than to go to my own chambers...my room...and lock myself therein for the duration of this evening."
"Talking funny," Lothiriel pointed out, although her tone was softer and her expression was apologetic. "..............sorry, Boromir. Let's simply help him move so he's not being so emo, ok?"
Faramir stared at his cousin in a emo way even more than before.
“It’s not unsophisticated,” Boromir said, almost pouting. Okay he was pouting. “It’s disgusting. Tis not true ale. Beer. Whatever. Fine. We do not wish for my brother to be Emo.” Peace.