What happens when you combine a boring, old Human Biology Professor and a mass lecture class? A story! Just a little something that I got inspired to write from a dream I had. Lord of the Rings still doesn't belong to me though...sighs Ok, on with the show, I have to go write a research paper within the next three hours, so I have to hurry!!! Oh yeah, Enjoy!


For Blood is Thicker

Almost there, he thought to himself, almost there. Then he would make his report and get some much needed rest.

The white gates were well within sight now, the city looming ahead mightily, and he straightened from his slumped over position on his horse. He had been struck in the shoulder by an arrow earlier that afternoon it was paining him considerably. He had pulled the arrow himself, wrapped his shoulder as best he could with what limited supplies he carried. The bleeding had stopped; he now only worried about keeping it clean from infection.

His outer jerkin hid the wound, for which he was glad, for he wished not to cause a fuss on his return, only to sleep. The blood from the wound had dried and was no longer visible against the surrounding material. With any luck, he would be abed within the hour.

He vaguely noticed a trumpet sound off, following which the gates slowly creaked open. He nodded to the guards and sighed inwardly as he looked ahead at the long ride uphill ahead of him. As he reached the sixth circle, an attendant came out and held his horse for him to dismount. He was beyond grateful, for he could then concentrate on dismounting as painlessly as possible, instead of stilling his restless mare. The shoulder ached mercilessly, but so long as he kept it still, it was bearable, little more than a consistent, low throbbing. More than anything, he knew, he just needed to rest, then he would heal.

He let his feet drag as he walked slowly to the seventh circle, resisting the urge to lean against the wall. He muttered a curse under his breath at the orc whose arrow had imbedded itself in shoulder, causing him such discomfort. He groaned in pain as he pushed the doors open, trying not to show his exhausted state.

Oh this will be fun. He had soon found his father, located in one of the council rooms not far from the main entrance. He edged his way in silently. There were perhaps fifteen men crowded into the small chamber, rapidly discussing current happenings in the military. Boromir was there too, breaking up a disagreement between an aged military officer and a young man of the court. The voices all jumbled into one, ramming back and forth between Faramir's ears and the room seemed abruptly too small and crowded by his presence.

He drew a sharp breath as his vision suddenly blurred. Willing it to focus he pushed his way back out of the room, past the door. Dimly he could hear his name being called. Boromir. So his presence had not gone unnoticed.

Faramir found himself leaning, back against the wall, with his eyes shut, forcing himself to take long, slow, deep breaths. It seemed to be helping; his head already did not feel quite so light as it had moments ago.

"Are you alright?" Boromir…

"Fine, just weary. The crowd in there was merely making my head spin, that's all." He smiled and opened his eyes. Just focus on your words and ignore the pain, the sooner you can lay down.

"Well I must say, the military discussions in there are enough to knock any man off his feet. Did you hear those two in there?" He laughed, referring to the argument he had just smoothed over. "Have you eaten?" Boromir noticed the drawn look on his brother's face.

"Not since morning." He closed his eyes again.

"I'll have something prepared; I dare say you could use it. Shall we dine in my room?"

No, sleep, that's all I need, just let me rest. "Boromir I must lie down first, please, if only for an hour, I must rest." He opened his eyes when he felt his brother's gaze studying his face. Determined to ignore him, he made to leave, pushing away from the wall that had been keeping him upright with both his elbows.

Somehow he restrained himself from crying out in pain as leaned over, one hand supporting himself against the wall, the other hugged tightly to his chest, willing the pain to subside. He could not stop the cry from escaping his lips as he felt Boromir's strong grip suddenly grasp his shoulder, attempting to steady him. Fool! It felt as though a raging fire had just erupted from within his flesh.

He struggled against the pain a moment before crying out again, collapsing against Boromir, his head resting on his brother's broad shoulder.

"Sweet Eru, Boromir, please," he gasped, "please…let go."

Shocked at causing his brother such pain, Boromir let go of Faramir's shoulder, and used his hands instead to help his brother back to an upright position.

Then he froze. There on his hand…blood? His hand was stained with the crimson glow of fresh blood. He looked up, hurt eyes, questioning, searching for Faramir's. He found them just as they rolled up, as Faramir collapsed, falling to the marble floors.


Tbc...if you guys want me to that is...