milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Steph's sitting in the rafters. Not, for once, out of any particular desire to Lurk; things are going well, lately. Just out of a vague feeling that if she doesn't spend some time up high in the shadows she'll go crazy.

Besides, she likes the rafters. They're quiet and warm and comfy - well, comfy compared to rooftops, at least - and you can see almost everything going on below.

You can take the girl out of Gotham...

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"Nice up here, isn't it?"

Oooh, shadowy Ranger-type!

"Yup." She glances over, and grins. "I didn't even see you there."

He smiles back quietly.

No one SEES Rangers until Rangers WANT to be seen.

"I like the shadows."

He'd get along great with Batman.

If they ever saw each other.

"Me too. Nobody bothers you unless you want 'em to, and there's all this - stuff to look at." She waves expansively at the vast Bar below them, cheerfully. Steph loves the Bar and all the life within.

Unfortunately, he would. Unfortunately because the mun doesn't like Batman much.

Faramir perches gracefully on the rafter, shadowed so that his exact position is difficult to understand. He's kind of a floating voice attatched to a cloaked form.

With a Security badge.

"It's beautiful, in a way," Faramir murmurs. "The way the White City was beautiful at dawn, as all the world begins to waken into an old, old place that never sleeps."

Steph hasn't batted an eye at that. She's sprawled along the beam herself, disarrayed to the loose-limbed extremes of adolescence, but she's used to shadowy bat-types crouching gracefully.

"Is that your home?"

"It is."

Grey eyes flash as worlds end outside the window.

"Or was."

"You can't go back? Or you just made a new home somewhere else?" She looks over at him, curious.

"Both."

A whisper of cloth and motion.

"My King has commanded me to head the regrowth of the lands of Ithilien -- which are as much my home as Minas Tirith, and maybe more. And my new residence would be upon a hil in sight of the city. I would have departed in mere days from my time, yet now I am Bound from returning."

He is not, in fact, overly bothered by that alone. A forest and waterfalls will endure until he returns. It is the people he misses.

A person.

A woman, whose presence here different from the woman he left only makes the wound deeper.

"Ooooh. That's gotta suck."

It doesn't sound like too much, but Steph's not entirely oblivious to nuances of speech. She props her chin up on her palms and leans on her elbows. "I'm sure Bar'll let you go sooner or later."

There is a flash of a smile in a shaft of light.

"It's not bad here. My brother is here. I would forego returning to the woman I am engaged to marry if the exchange is more time with him."

"You would?" She looks intrigued. "Is he - not in your other world, or something?"

Brothers are special. Steph understands that. But why can't he have both?

"He was killed. Barely two months before my time. My world has been fighting a great war which had only just ended when I arrived." There is a pause. His face is in shadow. "My father was killed less than a month before I arrived here. My mother died when I was a boy. I have no family to return to, save the woman who has agreed to be my wife. When I go home, I shall go to a world of great change, great turmoil, yet -- standing upon the cusp of great peace. We have not earned that yet, and we take it at the cost of many beautiful things -- beautiful lives, and the loss of the Elvish people."

Steph nods, sober. "I think that's always how it goes. But ... I hope it works out for you."

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