A Reunion of Brothers
by Avondster
A black mist was before Faramir’s eyes, and in his dreams he walked
through a dark vale in which no light would come. Many images came to
his mind, and he saw his brother fall, pierced by many arrows, and
heard his voice: “the world of Men will fall, and all will come to
Darkness, and my City to ruin.” And Faramir wept as he heard this
beloved voice speak these words, and fell into black despair.
Many other things he saw with his mind’s eye, that had always been keen
in his dreams, but none of these gave him any hope. There was the
Halfling he had so foolishly sent into his own death and doom; for his
fair face was pale as death, and he was naked, tied, and surrounded by
Orcs. The sound of a whip pierced his ears, and the Halfling’s cry of
pain was also in his own heart. The image faded and Faramir wept once
more.
He saw his City, the White City of Gondor that he and his brother had
fought for, be attacked and changed into a burning ruin, while Orcs and
other foul beasts dishonoured her and laughed at the fall of Men.
Faramir could see his father standing amidst flames, holding aloft a
great Stone that was filled with a black light, and a great flaming Eye
looked out of it, looked down on him and he could hear a dark voice
laughing in his mind and telling him that all was lost for him and his
kind, and that he would do better to leave this world.
“Yes, I will go,” Faramir could hear himself say. “For all hope is
ended.” And before his feet a great, black abyss opened, and he spread
his arms to embrace his doom.
But then, suddenly, the mist cleared, though it did not disappear, and
the young captain could hear a fair voice call his name: Faramir,
Faramir!
Slowly Faramir pulled himself back from the edge of ruin and turned. A
cloud of silver fog seemed to surround him, and when the fog was lifted
there was a tall figure standing before him, and Faramir gasped in
wonder and disbelief.
“Boromir!” he cried, for it was indeed his brother that stood before
him, clad in the same clothes he had been wearing when Faramir last saw
him in his fateful dream. But now his face was not so pale, and Boromir
smiled at his brother, though sadness was in his eyes.
“Yes, Faramir, I am here. But now you can see me and hear me. I had feared so.”
“Feared? Why?” asked Faramir, taking a step towards him. His heart
rejoiced as he looked upon the familiar face he had missed, and heard
the comforting voice he had always relied on. “We are together once
more, Boromir, and never will we be parted again!”
But Boromir shook his head. “Do you not see, Faramir? We have never
been truly parted, for we are brothers, and nothing, not even the
Shadow that looms over us, can break that bond. But you must not give
in to despair, little brother. You must go back to where you belong.
The City is not yet lost, nor is all hope, as you will see.”
“How can there be hope for the City when you are not there?” cried
Faramir. “How can she keep hope, when her Son is taken from her?”
“Because her hope still lives in her other Son,” replied Boromir.
“No hope lives in me now,” said Faramir bitterly. “I will go with you.”
He took another step towards his brother, reaching out his hand to him.
“Stay back, Faramir!” said Boromir in a booming voice, and for a moment
he was once again the Captain of the Guard, stern and forbidding, and
Faramir could do nothing but obey. His arm fell limply at his side, and
tears came to his eyes.
Boromir’s expression softened, and he smiled again. “You must go back,
Faramir. If only for me. You shall make my life worthy of remembrance,
and give my deeds more honour and value, and set right that which I
have done wrong. Then I shall truly rest in peace. Will you do that for
me, my brother?”
Faramir’s tears were flowing freely now. “I will.”
A light was shining in Boromir’s eyes. “Then all is good. My City and
my friends will not lose hope yet. Go now, Captain of Gondor, for the
King is calling you.”
And indeed, Faramir could hear a voice in the distance, calling his
name. It was faint at first, but it became clearer, and he felt a
strong desire to follow it.
“The King?” he whispered.
“Yes, the King,” said Boromir. “But it is the King of the Living, and
not the Dead, who is calling you. Go now to him, and serve him as I
would have done, with valour and honour.”
Faramir turned once more to his brother, and bowed his head. “Is this our last goodbye then, Boromir my brother?”
“It is,” said Boromir. “For when we shall be reunited again one day, Faramir, it shall be for ever.”
Then Faramir smiled as well, and he turned towards the voice of the
King, and the voices of his people who were crying out for him.
“Fare thee well, Son of Gondor,” said Boromir’s voice in his mind.
Suddenly Faramir stirred, and he
opened his eyes, and he looked on Aragorn who bent over him; and a
light of knowledge and love was kindled in his eyes, and he spoke
softly: ‘My lord, you called me. I come. What does the king command?’
