The Broken Heart of Gondor
by Queen of Gondor
“We need more men in Osgiliath, My Lord, if Mordor attacks, we will not
be able to hold the city.” Faramir looked pleadingly at his father,
Denethor, the Steward of Gondor. Denethor looked up slowly from his
meal. Faramir could sense the cruelty, the deep black eyes of his
father showed no love towards him. And then Denethor said, “You shall
have no more men, you WILL hold the city with your current sources,
show me! Are you as true, and as brave a fighter as your brother?”
Denethor had now lowered his head. With what his father had just said,
Faramir closed his eyes, nodded, turned around, and left the room.
Once outside, he stood at the door for a moment, wishing that he had
been able to have gone to Rivendell, and be away from him, his father.
Since he was on the seventh level of Minas Tirith, he decided that he
would look out, onto his country, he walked to the edge, where a gate
protected him from falling, and he stood there. He gazed out upon
Osgiliath for a moment, and then his eyes wandered onto the Pelennor
Fields. Now he turned his head, in the direction of Mordor. He looked
at the smoke that was rising, that was always rising. Immediately, he
turned around, in a fast walk he set off towards the stairs, and then
ran down. When he reached the first level, he got onto his horse, and
began to ride for Osgiliath, which was just across the field from Minas
Tirith. When he arrived, he jumped off his horse, Madril was there and
greeted him, “Scouts report that more Southrons and Easterlings have
made their way to Mordor, more keep coming.” Faramir’s eyes grew angry,
after a moment, he said, “Gather all of the men to the riverbank, I
will give orders then.” Madril looked startled, “Your fathers orders,
he questioned Faramir. Faramir turned around, facing away from, and
before he headed to the riverbank, he replied, “My own.”
All the men gathered, Madril stood at the front of the audience that
was now watching Faramir. Faramir began, “I give you orders, which are
my own, I am your captain, trust me!” The crowd of men cheered, he
continued, “My men will head to Ithilien at sunrise, Madril and his men
will stay here, and protect the city!” Faramir looked at the men, some
were afraid of leaving the city, nonetheless, he continued, “We shall
leave at sunrise!”
* * * * *
That night, like every other, Faramir sat at the riverbank, watching
it. He saw something on the water, he walked in to the river, his face
turned white when he saw what was floating. Upon the water, the Horn of
Gondor was floating, but in 2 parts, for it was cloven in two. He ran
back in and got his horse. Immediately, with the horn, safe in his
arms, he rode fast for Minas Tirith. He rode his horse all the way up
to the seventh level, when he got up there, he jumped off, and ran
through the door to his father. Before Faramir could say a thing.
Denethor started, “Word has reached me from Osgiliath that you are
leaving for Ithilien tomorrow! Is this true?” Faramir held the horn
behind his back, anger was now rushing inside of him, wanting to
escape, after all he was a captain, he could take men if he wished so,
but he said, “This is true, we are going to try and ambush-” Denethor
cut in, “You must be here and protect the city, or at least try.
Faramir, you are no son of Gondor.” A tear dripped down Faramir’s face,
he turned around, but before he left, he tossed the horn of Gondor
cloven in two, down on the table in front of his father. He ledt before
his father could speak more.
* * * * *
When Faramir arrived back to Osgiliath, he went straight for his
chambers. He sat on his bed, in his hands he held a letter, a letter
that he had received from Boromir, he began to read it:
Faramir, My Brother,
We have now reached the Golden Wood. They all think that I want to
steal the ring, when really, I do not, I only feel that I have to obey
father. Faramir, you must have hope, you are a captain of Gondor, you
shall keep are city, and our country, safe. Have hope, for I do.
~Boromir~
Tears dripped down onto the parchment. He knew that that was the last
time he had heard from Boromir, and it would be the last forever. The
horn cloven in two was a sign that Boromir had fallen, had died.
Faramir did not sleep all of that night, he sat looking over that
letter, over and over again. When sunrise came, all of the men were
ready at the gate to leave for Ithilien, Faramir walked to the front of
the group and shouted, “We go to Ithilien!” All the men cheered,
Faramir watched them go past him and begin their journey, as Farmir
stepped out of the gate though, he whispered, “I have hope.”
The End
