Under My Wing: 17. Jealousy

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17. Jealousy


Sleep tonight

And may your dreams

Be realized…"

"Stop singing that song to that baby."

I looked up from Faramir's sleeping face, and saw Boromir standing there with his hands on his hips.

"Why?" I asked, continuing to rock the chair. "It works very well - see?"

I tilted my arms so that Boromir could see his baby brother.

"I don't care," he replied, refusing to look. He crossed his arms over his chest, for a moment looking very much like his father. "That is my song, and he can't have it."

Now I understood. "Why can't Faramir have it?" I asked him as I rose, watching for any sign that the baby might wake at the motion. "I thought you told me you were too old for nursery songs."

Boromir followed me, stomping his feet, as I carried Faramir to his cradle. "That doesn't matter," he informed me, voice growing louder. "It is mine."

"Quietly," I whispered to him, covering the sleeping child with a blanket sent from the Prince. "If he wakes, I'll just have to put him back to sleep."

I placed my hand on Faramir's head, making certain he had not been disturbed. It was unlikely; this child seemed to be able to sleep through anything. In comparison, when he was an infant, Boromir had wakened at any voice above a whisper, though he had gotten over that by the time he was six months old. True to form, Faramir did not so much as twitch, and I leaned over and placed a kiss on his forehead.

Boromir tugged at my skirts, setting me off balance. "You come away from that stupid baby right now!"

I turned, ready to scold him, and saw that Boromir's eyes were filling with tears.

"Oh," I said, bending down and sweeping him into my arms, "I am sorry, duckling. I didn't

know --"

He had buried his face in my shoulder, and I could feel his small body shaking against me. I picked him up, carried him into the playroom, and sat back down in the rocking chair.

"Whatever is wrong, little one?" I asked, stroking his back. I knew what was wrong, but I wanted him to tell me.

"I hate that baby!" he burst out, voice muffled against my shoulder. "He makes Mother tired, and she doesn't want to see me; Uncle brought him all sorts of presents and didn't bring me nothing but one old ship; Father talks about him to people and doesn't say nothing about me, --" my gown was becoming soggier by the moment, "--and he takes up all your time and you don't play with me!"

He was right, of course. The entire country was talking about the Steward's newest grandson, and no-one was paying any attention to Boromir. The Lord Denethor would tell anyone who would listen how promising Faramir's grip was. The Lady Finduilas was more often sleeping than awake, and took very few visitors other than her brother, and that Lord of Dol Amroth had spent almost all his time at his sister's side, for the birth had not been easy on her.

I had tried to make sure the baby wasn't monopolizing my time, and, though Faramir was the least troublesome child I'd ever had to care for, any infant requires a great deal of care. Apparently I hadn't succeeded. I should have remembered that Boromir had had me all to himself for five years, and that he would not like the disruption to his ordered world.

I rubbed his back as his sobs increased, and murmured nonsense. Finally he quieted, though his breath still came in gulps. I shifted him in my arms, so I was cradling him much as I had been Faramir, and had a flash of memory back to Boromir's infancy.

"I am sorry, Boromir," I told him, combing my fingers through his hair, knowing how that calmed him, "I didn't realize I had been ignoring you so. But just because I have Faramir doesn't mean that I don't still care for you, my little one."

"Promise?" His eyes were threatening to overflow again, and I felt mine grow damp in response.

"Of course I promise," I assured him, kissing the top of his head. "I will be here for you as long as you need me. You just have to learn to be patient sometimes."

He was quiet for a long moment, then said, "He can have the sleeping song. But he can't have the hush baby song."

"All right," I agreed.

"I am not too big for that song," Boromir told me, settling himself against my chest, "if you wanted to sing it."

So I sang for him:

"Hush, little baby

Rest your head

Close your eyes,

It's time for bed

The ships are in

The tide is high,

And papa's gonna be here

by and by

He'll bring us pearls and rings of gold

He'll bring us songs and tales of old

He'll bring us dreams from far away

He'll come back soon, and then he'll stay

No more he'll roam, at home he'll be

No more he'll sail the raging sea

Til then you sleep safe in my arms

Mama's gonna keep her boy from harm."

A/N: The first song is a bit of a U2 song, which is in no way a lullaby. The second is to the tune of  "Mama's Gonna Buy You a Mockingbird".

This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.

Story Information

Author: EdorasLass

Status: General

Completion: Work in Progress

Era: 3rd Age - The Stewards

Genre: Humor

Rating: General

Last Updated: 04/06/08

Original Post: 07/31/05

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