#faramir of gondor

[imsupposedtobestudying-whoops]

🗡That will depend on the manner of your return 🏹

[lulii999]

The way I would actually die for Faramir and Eowyn.

[velvet4510]

Y’all are too hard on Éowyn for marrying Faramir as if having a husband will somehow strip her of her individuality.

Have y’all MET Faramir? This is NOT a guy who saw the attractive Princess of Rohan from afar and was like “I want her to be my ball and chain.”

This is the guy who fell in love with her while she was at her lowest, physically and mentally. He fell in love with her when she was beaten, exhausted, weary, wounded, grieving, and depressed. He fell in love with her when he found out what she did on that battlefield. He fell in love with a kindred spirit, the only person who could truly understand him and his own sufferings. He saw her for exactly who she was - someone strong and brave and bold and unconventional and independent - and that is what he loves about her. When he says “you are beautiful,” he is speaking to her soul too, and not just her face.

As her husband, he will only dote on her and seek her opinions on everything. He already treats her as an equal and cultivates her true self; who says he’ll suddenly stop doing that when they’re married? He would rather die than suppress or hold back the powerful mind and spirit that he fell in love with in the Houses of Healing!

If he was like most other men, would she have married him? Heck no! She has standards, and he meets them.

She married the only guy who would ever let her be herself. This girl got it right. She did not settle, and her being with him does not take anything away from her.

[tromroan]

That will depend on the manner of your return

[borom1r]

⚔️ 𝑳𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑹𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒎𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔 ⚔️

Behold, an Ongoing Project! 📯

I've been wanting to compile this for a while, instead of frantically scrambling for references every time I sit down to write — I thought it would be fun to share! I'm mostly tackling this from the perspective of a fanfic author, and also as someone who's very into viking era-through-renaissance men's fashion and armor.

I think it's really fun to look at the decisions that were made strategically (to maintain actor mobility, for example), because they looked cool (Faramir's pointless hinged piece on his helmet), or because they were actually period-accurate (gambesons under chainmail, or worn as armor by themselves!). I'm also taking it as a chance to point out what these garments say about their owners!

I say this in the document itself, but there's no need to credit me if you reference/use the doc for your own writing ^_^ this is some of my favorite stuff to discuss, so just getting to share it is cool enough to me.

I'm purely focusing on human characters to start, because of the more solid real-world parallels, but I'm happy to add on to this if there are other characters you'd like to see!!

(@potatoflower7 + @rivers-for-me, tagging you both bc you interacted w/ the posts I made when I was just starting this!)

[where-our-stories-start]

Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers (2002)

[vsnapdragon]

"And so they stood on the walls of the City of Gondor, and a great wind rose and blew, and their hair, raven and golden, streamed out mingling in the air. And the Shadow departed, and the Sun was unveiled, and light leaped forth; and the waters of Anduin shone like silver, and in all the houses of the City men sang for the joy that welled up in their hearts from what source they could not tell. "

[modernincorrectlotrhobbit]

Faramir: I’m just saying, if you want to give grapes to the kids, make sure you cut them in half first.

Éowyn:

Faramir: The grapes, Éowyn. Not the kids.

[feydrawings]

Eowyn and Faramir redesign based on the Eowyn/Faramir wedding photo posted by Miranda Otto on her IG profile. i feel in love with the Magic the Gathering design of Eowyn for their new card game (here) and i decided to adopt it. i loved drawing them so much, so i'll probably make more 'Eowyn and Faramir redesigns' in future.

material: watercolor and sepia ink on paper

[mlmxreader]

Fates Entangled | Faramir x m!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ May I request faramir x mreader with prompts "My apologies, I didn't mean to wake you" and "Can you stay a while?" With reader being an apprentice of gandalf? ❞

: ̗̀➛ Faramir was more than happy to take on Gandalf's apprentice as one of his own men, but what seems to be fortune may just be fate itself conspiring.

: ̗̀➛ n/a

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

To begin with, you were happy with your position; being Gandalf's apprentice, you had grown up under the watchful eye of the wizard, and he had become a sort of father figure to you as well as your mentor.

You loved him, of course, but when you eventually grew up, he had granted you the one thing that you had ever wanted: freedom.

Just like any other wizard, you were to set your sights on the world around you and to begin an independent journey to see where you would best be suited - whether that meant acting as a helper and guardian of the woods like Radagast, or being a bit of a troublemaker like Gandalf.

You had to find your own path, and after many years of searching, you had stumbled upon Faramir.

Captain of the Rangers of Ithilien, Faramir was all too happy to welcome a wizard into his ranks, even though you did explain to him that you weren't quite a fully fledged wizard just yet - you still had years ahead to graduate from an apprentice, but he understood.

Forever living in his brother's shadow, Faramir understood all too well.

He was glad to welcome you, as you were around the same age as he was - a couple of months younger, but no more than that - and to have Gandalf's apprentice on his side meant a great deal to the Rangers.

But it was through him that you learned more practical skills - he taught you how to use a bow and arrow, as well as a sword and daggers; he told you that it would be for your own defence when the time came, if he was not around to protect you.

But you appreciated it nonetheless.

As a present for your birthday the day you left his shadow to become your own man, Gandalf had bestowed upon you a sword. It was made from the scales of a dragon, with its handle made from the leather of the beast, and the sharp edges merged with the claws and teeth.

It could cut through almost anything.

Faramir said it was a fine blade, but always refused when you tried to give it to him as thanks for all he did; you didn't understand why, but you were sure that he had good reason to.

Of all the men you had met, Faramir was by far the most intelligent, and you complimented him on that often, even if it did make his features turn a slight pinkish colour.

But that was all years ago, and now you had been serving at his side for so long that he had happily given you the position of his right-hand man.

You were honoured, of course, but you were sure that he had men in his ranks who were better suited. He would just shake his head and tell you that there were no men like you.

It was an awful night, really.

Stone cold and damp, and although you tried various spells to help, you couldn't quite fall asleep; so you got up, gingerly leaving your bed and carefully making your way over to Faramir.

You knelt down beside him, and gently shook his shoulder; he turned over, eyes wide as he gasped for a second.

Immediately, his demeanour softened when he saw you, and he cleared his throat.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to wake you so rudely," you whispered softly.

He sat up, shaking his head. "Is something the matter?"

"I can't sleep," you admitted, frowning. "I know, I know it's a trivial and foolish thing but-"

"Come with me," Faramir grumbled as he yawned, daring to stretch for a moment.

He allowed your fingers to lace with his as he lead you away, further down so that the others Rangers did not stir and could not hear; he lead you to a small clearing.

Standing as tall soldiers, the trees eagerly kept watch, and the brambles bristled as they prepared to bite into anyone who dared to push past them.

Faramir knelt down, starting a fire and gesturing for you to sit beside him once it began to crackle.

Against the slowly brightening skies, the flames seemed to spew orange stars into the heavens, the crackling almost musical as the orange and red danced before your eyes.

Faramir gently pulled you closer, putting his arm around you.

"This ought to help," he told you. "When I can't sleep, I always come here and watch the fire until I eventually get there."

He was about to move, when you gently grabbed his wrist. "Can you stay a while? Please?"

He nodded, daring to smile a little. "Of course."

Settling down beside you, Faramir did his best not to tense up when you laid your head on his shoulder; his face felt suddenly warm, although he knew that it was not the fire that made it feel that way.

His heart pounded and thumped when you laid your hand on his knee, and he had to force himself to swallow hard so that he didn't get a lump in his throat. He had been having those reactions for a while, but only ever when he was around you.

"You're warm," you whispered, pressing your face to the side of his neck.

"I do apologise," he murmured.

"No, I... I like it," you said softly. "You're always very warm."

An odd sensation washed over him, causing his chest to feel both empty and constricted at the same time. His eyes went wide, and he could not beat the smile that spread across his lips.

"You're always so cold," he admitted quietly. "I like it."

"May I?" You asked softly, gesturing to his lap.

Faramir quietly told you that you could, and when you settled yourself on him, he couldn't even try to pretend not to smile. His hands eager and greedy as he rested them at your thighs to keep you steady, his eyes hungry and ravenous as he settled them on your lips.

"I shouldn't..."

"Why not?"

"We're friends," Faramir sighed. "And I don't believe that my father would be pleased if I were to... get myself involved in a wizard's business."

You laughed softly. "And you think Gandalf would be any better?"

"That is a good point," he admitted with a quiet chortle. "But what do you think, wizard?"

You shrugged, putting your hands on his shoulders. "I think that these days dictate our fate, and... and I would like to think that my fate is entangled with yours like the roots of the trees."

"You are a good man," Faramir murmured, the words almost concealed under his breath. "And an even better wizard..."

Gently, he gripped your hand, slowly dragging it from his shoulder so that he could place it against his chest; sneaking your fingertips under his open shirt so that you could feel the gentle and steady thump of his heart beneath his warm skin.

"And I would be honoured to have my fate entangled with yours," he told you. "If you would have me."

You nodded, daring to smile as you cleared your throat. "I would always have you, Faramir."

"Then it's settled."

[cauliflowertree]

faramir - kiss me like you want to be loved.

summary: a long-awaited confession.

word count: 2.4k

fanfic no. 041

a/n: boromir lives because i say so.

it was a difficult farewell between the close brothers of gondor. but both were optimistic they would reunite not too far in the future—both were astute and praised warriors, trained from the day each of them could hold a sword upright.

between you and faramir, the cautious goodbye was somewhat tainted in awkwardness. neither of you were brave enough at the present moment to admit the feelings that plagued you both, effecting judgement, sleep and the completion of even minor tasks for many years now.

“farewell, y/n,” he spoke softly, a hitch in his breath, hesitantly raising an arm, wondering if he was crossing the delicate line of propriety.

“farewell, faramir,” you replied, abandoning predetermined notions of decorum as you finished what he had started, pulling him into a quick embrace, the first you had ever shared. and perhaps the last.

when you released him from your hold, his gaze was fixed upon you, awestruck from the emotions that arose within him from such a simple gesture, beginning to regret that he could not take his brothers place and curse the father that did not trust him with the task. with his mouth agape, and eyes almost sleepy, and heart in torment, he watched you back away from him, stepping into line with his older brother.

he was the last citizen of gondor to remain at the city’s uppermost region, watching you and his brother ride off into the horizon. as such, he felt an abyss form within his stomach, guilt rousing it all the more from the words he left unspoken. he had waved his brother off jeopardy, but of his life he was not as concerned as he was with yours. all his youth and adulthood, he had admired you from afar, shadowed you everywhere you ventured, unstable when he was not near you.

and now, you crossed middle earth without him, courage and bravery in your heart as you promised to fight for those who could not, if the task should fall to you. he had failed to seize the opportunity to reveal to you the object of his desires. and now, as you disappeared into the distance, he feared it was too late for another opportunity to present itself.

he may see no tomorrow, what with the armies of mordor inching closer to minas tirith, each time leaving gondor with fewer men to defend its borders.

but he hoped, he let himself hope.

｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡

the trials of the fellowship had taken much of your spirit, only to be stressed by the fall of gandalf the grey. the elderly wizard had provided you with much wisdom and a perfected skillset, and his absence was dearly felt, but by no one more than yourself, someone he might have considered his family.

frodo and sam had begun the disbandment of your company, leaving you behind to pursue a trickier path, but one they must face alone. boromir had been seriously injured, almost fatally, enough that merry and pippin had been captured by an orc pack. but they had now returned, safe and sound where they belonged. though, dear pippin could not stay out of trouble for long.

and gandalf, it seemed, could not stay fallen for long.

“what’s going to happen to me?” asked pippin gloomily, kicking pieces of hay in the barn as you waited for gandalf.

“nothing is going to happen to you, dear pippin. you are safe from sauron if you remain with me and gandalf,” you assured him, ruffling his loose, curly locks.

“how long have you known gandalf?” asked pippin curiously.

“oh! a long time now—since my infancy. he took me under his wing long ago, and i have much to be grateful for,” you smiled fondly.

“i don’t think he likes me,” pippin frowned. “but then, i suppose, i am very accident prone.”

“i think sometimes you do without thinking. but you are young, and gandalf knows this. but he has lived many years, and can sometimes forget what ails the youth, such as yourself,” you explained, and added: “he cares for your safety, otherwise he would not get so angry.”

pippin seemed to accept this truth with a sunny disposition, his mood greatly improving upon hearing your explanation, taking it for nothing but the truth.

“merry!” he cried, rushing off to greet his friend.

“y/n,” called boromir, offering you a full water canister, in addition to your own. “do send my brother my well wishes.”

“of course, boromir. i am sure he will be delighted to hear of you.”

boromir laughed lightly. “yes, a brother’s bond is strong. though, i am sure he will be much more inclined to be delighted with your return.”

you smiled bashfully, turning away as heat crept into your cheeks. a hearty laugh sounded from behind you, and boromir clapped your back. “i see much,” he reminded you. "safe journey!" he called as he exited the barn in search of aragorn.

with a weepy send off between merry and pippin, you, gandalf and pippin set off for minas tirith. a flutter in your heart arose at the chance of seeing faramir again, barely entertaining the thought that he had fallen to an orc’s sword or axe. faramir was the best of his ranks, no doubt he was alive and well. and boromir’s encouragement did little to settle your nerves—the thought of reciprocation was almost too much to bear.

three day’s ride felt like nothing, despite the tribulations you’d been through these past months, for faramir awaited at the end of your journey. as the white city peeked above the distant horizon, shaded with hues of pink and orange, you pushed faster through the expanse that kept you from your destination.

pippin slept against gandalf’s chest, somehow unbothered by the erratic journey. and before long, your two horses were climbing the streets of minas tirith, warning passersby of your coming. the white tree in pippin's vision stood strong, undead—a ray of hope remained for frodo and sam.

you were home.

some hours had passed in gondor, no faramir in sight, and within that time the steward had made perfectly clear he would not call for aide, nor would he accept the ranger as king. but it all temporarily came to naught as the cries of nazgûl sounded from beyond the city walls.

hundreds of horses raced from osgaliath across the grassy expanse, fleeing from the fight they could not win against such forces. the winged beasts took them from above, grasping several men and horses between their talons and launching them through the air.

your sank through your chest, palms instantly bearing sweat as you feared for faramir’s safe return. he was, quite clearly, outnumbered by many, though he had proved to make a rational decision in the midst of war by ordering his men to fall back. still, the terror that gripped you was all-consuming, almost enough to bring you to your knees, for you could scarcely bear to watch.

you turned to gandalf in silent, desperate worry, and he understood the urge you felt to flee the castle walls and help in some way if you could, if it meant they would be saved.

you and gandalf rode out. a light from gandalf’s staff, bright and unrelenting forced the nazgûl away and brought the army of men to safety, faramir included. you could see him, almost clearly in the ranks of his men, riding fast to the city gate. he dared to turn and meet your gaze. the fear had subsided, though the adrenaline remained, and you breathed a heavy sigh of relief, closing your eyes and letting the wind whip through your hair as you silently thanked silent forces for this fortune.

when the danger had slipped away, faramir dismounted his horse and wasted no time in approaching you. he was breathless, tired, but alert. it was a quick, silent moment you thought he might break with a laugh or a welcoming embrace, but instead, questioned you of his brother, to which you informed him of his safety and health. he turned to pippin with a start next, filling you and gandalf with unbridled hope as he revealed he had seen two halflings alive and well not so long ago.

and afterwards, with as much decorum between the two of you as distant strangers, he walked with you and gandalf to meet his father. quietly, he fell back in line with you, conversing with you rather formally, despite that not ten minutes before he almost deserted decency to embrace you without hesitation. but he restrained himself, for what reason he could not quite remember.

entering the castle, feeling, finally, much safer now that he was deep within the city, he let himself look at you. you seemed well, and he hoped that was how you truly felt too. he thought of you often in your absence, though over time, little details and intricacies of your features had slipped away from memory. but now that they were before him again, he smiled familiarly, admiring you for all that you were.

“i must replenish myself,” faramir informed you, hoping you might follow him so he would be blessed with a moment alone with you.

“yes, of course,” was your meek response.

he hesitated slightly, unaware if you had caught onto his subtle indication and were politely refusing or whether it had passed over your head completely. and so he left without another word, jaw clenched and shaking his head at the fool he had made himself look.

“well, aren’t you going to follow him?” asked pippin in disbelief when he was far enough away that his little comment would go unheard.

“whatever do you mean, little one?” you asked with a scoff.

“that is clearly a man who wishes to be followed!”

you trailed his gaze, catching faramir looking behind, but laughed it off instantly. “i- no. you’re mistaken.”

“i am not!” replied pippin, looking to gandalf for approval.

you looked to the old wizard yourself too, hoping for assurance on your behalf, but found nothing of the sort as he smirked at pippin and raised his eyebrows. with nothing leaving his lips, you understood perfectly the meaning of his silence.

most embarrassed by the scene, you hurried off in pursuit of the gentlemen who had left you behind in the hopes that you would follow. but for all your desires that he might wish for you the way you wished for him, catching the signs of this reciprocation was much more complicated than you might have imagined.

you turned down many passages, walked through several corridors, completely in the dark as to where he might have gone. you were so caught up in looking for him, in fact, that you missed him completely, and only found yourself face to face with the man when he called you back.

he had been staring at an old piece of art in the castle, one he must have seen and admired a dozen times before, but had needed something with which to occupy himself as he waited and hoped to see you.

“i was looking for you,” was all you spoke, unsure of how to begin.

“you found me, it seems,” he laughed. “with a little aid.”

he let his smile fade slowly, searching for the words in his crowded mind so that he might perfectly convey all that he thought in regards to his feelings for you. he gestured to an empty bench before the painting that hung tall, sitting close beside you.

“i have been meaning, for some time now, to tell you that which i have kept from you,” he began, keeping you on the edge of your seat. “from our youth, though i did not know it then, i have felt for you something i have never felt for another. and…” his breath was trembling, his eyes fixed to his hands. you took them warmly into yours, and this forced him to meet your eyes, where he found the utmost encouragement. “and when you left those weeks ago, i have regretted every moment since that i did not tell you then exactly how i felt.”

“and how do you feel?” you asked him, needing to hear it after so long.

“i feel…i feel as if- as if you- no. when i am in battle,” said he, “and my sword is kicked from my grasp, the enemy bearing down upon me, it is not, though perhaps it should be, for my men that i find the strength to stand again, to fight with my bare hands if i must. it is not for the approval of my father, nor even for my brother. when i am an inch from death, i find my strength in you, i find my courage in you. my hope, in the thought that i would see you again.”

“faramir,” you whispered through a breath of disbelief, that an honourable man such as he would care for you so deeply, a wayward soul under the influence of a wandering wizard. “i could not wish for a better man to have said these words to me. you are the best i could hope for, and truly i did hope for you,” you laughed through your tears, struggling to find breath under the weight of this joyous revelation.

“my y/n,” he chuckled, his teary eyes following the down-turn of your head as you pulled his hands up to your lips.

cupping your jaw delicately, he raised your eye-line to meet his, gazing upon you like a revered work of art. softly, he brushed your tears away with the pad of his thumb, leaning in cautiously but eagerly for something which the both of you had craved for an eternity. his mouth brushed yours tentatively, opening your lips to accommodate his own. and the pair of you were set ablaze, suddenly and feverishly reaching for each other as if you were not close enough already—his tunic gripped between your fingers, your hand over his neck while his arm snuck around your waist and fingers tangled into your hair.

distantly, he heard his father’s bellows, and it pulled him from you reluctantly. resting his forehead against yours, he regained much of the breath he had lost in your shared embrace, taking a moment to recover.

“i must go,” he said lowly, the baritone in his voice causing you to shiver.

“come and find me when you are done.”

“i would not think to do anything else,” he whispered, kissing the crown of your head before stoically marching towards his father’s inevitable disapproval.

though his approval, in comparison to yours, was trivial.

🏷 @velvetcloxds @entishramblings

[aftermyownart]

Waiting is always the hardest part, but it's always easier with a friend.

One of my favourite fictional pairs <3

[telumendils]

i'm sure a lot of book purists really dislike what the films did with faramir because book!faramir would never be tempted by the ring (and they are allowed to feel that way!!!!) but i happen to think it was a brilliant way to keep his character in the story for a film adaptation.

you can't really waste time in book-to-movie adaptation on a static character with nothing left to learn, nowhere to grow, if they are not absolutely integral to the progression of the plot. he needed conflict to be relevant enough to include in a film adaptation of the books made for an early 2000s (aka modern) audience which typically expects characters to feel more human and relatable (as opposed to more mythic and symbolic like the audience tolkien was writing for).

like i genuinely don't dislike book!faramir. he has some really great lines and moments and i understand how he's meant to function in the story as tolkien intended. but i also just don't think he would've made sense, onscreen, in 2002. he needed more depth of conflict for the average viewer to care about him and his choices and i think it makes him inherently more interesting and more sexy. that is all.

[velvet4510]

People are wrong when they claim that by the end, Éowyn is just “a reward for Faramir.” In truth, it’s the reverse. Éowyn is the one with the greater internal journey - as reflecting on her experience teaches her the value of peace, healing, and growth over war, violence, and death - and Faramir is ultimately her reward for learning to embrace life again. And let’s face it, being a reward, and a wife guy, is exactly what Faramir has always wanted to be, whether he knew it or not.

[necrobratz]

gonna drop my thoughts here bc im thinkin abt it a lot but my transmasc ass cannot help but project SO HARD onto faramir

hes second borne of denethor, obvi, and denethor views his place as a woman absolutely useless in succession. he favors boromir bc he believes boromir will actually amount to something, whereas faramir will not. faramir grows up watching his elder brother train and be taken around by their father, meanwhile he must sit and be a pretty face in the background.

eventually, he asks boromir to train him. Boromir, being the beloved elder brother he is, does so. faramir is absolutely ecstatic. he wants everything boromir has and more, but it is not out of pure jealousy. he cannot place the feeling he has in his gut every time hes seen not as a young boy, but as a young woman. he’s miserable, and he wishes above all else to be seen exactly as his brother is.

he voices these thoughts to boromir, who responds with something along the lines of “then if you wish to be, you are as much a brother to me as any other man in this city, if not more-so.” they discuss many things, such as names and if to tell their father. boromir says to do so, and faramir agrees on the basis of more than just boromir acknowledging his true self. when they do, denethor is.. not pleasant! he only agrees to these “ridiculous terms” because boromir refuses to listen otherwise.

faramir proceeds to spend the rest of his childhood as a boy would, with the shadow of his father constantly looming over than him. he looks down upon everything he does, using every small mistake as an opportunity to point out his sex. no matter what he does, denethor will find anything and everything to berate and belittle him for. he must do everything boromir does and 10x more in order for denethor to even acknowledge his existence in a way that isnt entirely negative.

once boromir is dead, it doesnt get any better. denethor has no reason to respect faramir now, and just resorts back as if boromir had never told him. most people dont even know who the hell denethor is talking about because everyone just knows faramir as faramir, but he doesnt care. faramirs given up on ever trying to gain that level of respect from his father.

he meets eowyn, who is ALSO TRANS!!!!! they understand each other on a level no one else anywhere in their lives could. he finds so much comfort in her he gets weak fucking knee’d. they talk for hours and hours and by the end of it faramir is so enamored with her he cannot imagine a life without her. t4t farawyn is literally everything to me rn

this is barely coherent bc im watching two towers at the same time im writing this but heyy projection love it so much

[bonniebirddoesgifs]

Bonniebirddoesgifs:

Faramir (LOTR) - Credit if using