milliways_bar | (no subject)

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One year ago, on this date, Sara was a crumpled sobbing mess on the lake shore, clutching a red spandex costume to her chest.

This year, she's not doing anything so dramatic.

A candle is lit and she stares out at the continuing destruction, almost entranced.

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He's not alone. This time, unlike the other times before, he is not alone.

She cradles his head to her shoulder, and lets him weep.

Faramir shifts to sit on both knees and leans against her, buried in her arms. He feels as if he's been smothered for two long years, and now the very air is choking him, and it's like drowning. His heart is flooded with all he's pushed away and shelved in all this time...

And once the floodgates open, it is a long time before they close.

She doesn't know how long they're out there. All she knows is that when they go back inside, her shirt is wet, she is stiff from the cold, and his eyes are clearer than they have been in quite some time.

At last he leans away from her, and when he looks at her, the very stars are in his bright gaze.

"Thank you," he whispers, his hands on her shoulders.

"It's what friends are for." She covers one of his hands, squeezing. And then grins impudently. "Still didn't drink me under the table."

At that he laughs. Really laughs, his voice rich and full. He pulls her into a bearhug the likes of which only a Captain could give, then rises and pulls her to her feet.

"I reserve the right to a rematch," he tells her, beaming in the moonlight and the light reflected from the snow.

"And I look forward to it, though some other time. I think both of our livers will thank us if we cease the abuse for the night."

"And I think the rest of our bodies will thank us to go inside and dry off. A cup of tea by the fire?"

He holds out his hand to her.

"That works for me." She takes his hand and lets him lead her back in.

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