Letters from Faramir
the brothers there was great love, and had been since childhood, when
Boromir was the helper and protector of Faramir. No jealousy or rivalry
had arisen between them since, for their father's favour or for the
praise of men. It did not seem possible to Faramir that any one in
Gondor could rival Boromir, heir of Denethor, Captain of the White
Tower; and of like mind was Boromir.' LOTR - Appendix A - (iv) Gondor
and the Heirs of Anárion
He picked up the letter again and re-read the page that was filled with the beloved scrawl that was Boromir's handwriting.
Finally – we will leave Imladris - tomorrow! I have chafed at this
forced delay. I see Minas Tirith in my mind's eye and I feel as if ants
were crawling all over my body, so great is my need to return to Her. I
have no hope that I will be bringing aid to Gondor - but I must hope.
So much has happened. I will not bore you with my journey to this
place. Suffice it to say, it took longer than I had thought. I lost my
horse at Tharbad and, therefore, had to walk the rest of the way.
Thankfully, I did not wear my armour - it would have been a very hard
walk. I did not find this place myself, though. Elves - yes, Faramir,
truly - Elves found me wandering and brought me here.
Would that you were here with me! Your poet's heart would drink in
the beauty that is this place and spew out words befitting it. Alas,
all I see is decay. It echoes the deterioration of our City, Faramir.
Yes, there is beauty, but there are also empty buildings, fallen
archways, and deserted paths. Dust covers the floors of many of the
houses here. I have heard whispers that the Elves are leaving,
abandoning Middle Earth. I cannot understand this – how can anyone
leave their home? Even if Minas Tirith was in shambles, as Osgiliath
is, I could not leave Her.
Forgive me – this was not the purpose of my writing. There is
something here that haunts me. Perhaps it is the decay, but I think
not. Faramir, I have found It; further I cannot say, except that It is
that which was hinted at in our dreams. I cannot speak plainly – this
missive might fall into the ends of an enemy; however, I do not have It
in my possession. How may I explain this? It is in the hands of a
periannath – a Halfling. I would keep this from you for you hold me in
such high esteem – but I find myself shivering at the thought of it.
And, Faramir, it seems the heir of Isildur will travel with us. Us –
yes, there are nine of us, chosen by Elrond, Elf Lord. The others are
of no consequence; those that concern me are Aragorn, son of Arathorn,
and Frodo, who carries It. I dare not write what the plans are for this
Frodo, plans of the council that had assembled here. Suffice it to say,
my hope is that we will turn towards Gondor. I will hope that with my
dying breath, Faramir.
This quest has become tangled and complicated. You know what I want –
to bring help to Gondor. I do not now know if that is possible.
I have sent a missive with some news this day to Father, but have
told him nothing of what actually happened in the Council. I hope to
speak with you before I report to him. I would avail myself of your
As I said, tomorrow we leave. Soon, we will be together again. I
look forward to that. Keep the fires burning. I will return soon,
He leaned his head back against the cave wall. Tears glistened in
his eyes. He had long ago ceased to hope for word of his brother. What?
It was past six months since Boromir had left Gondor.
The men milled about the cave, staying away from him, giving him his
privacy, as much as could be given in Henneth Annûn. The roar of joy at
the bringing of the news from their Captain-General had quickly turned
to unease as Faramir’s expression turned from one of happiness as the
missive was handed to him, to a frown as he silently read it. He stood
up and walked towards the opening by the falls. Leaning his hand on the
cold, spray-wettened wall, Faramir stood, unseeing, heart heavy.
Finally, he turned and strode back into the main cavern.
“Men,” he called and they crowded about him. “Our Captain-General is
chagrined. He is not bringing an army with him as he had hoped. You
know what it is like to be around him when he is chagrined!”
Faramir’s smile made the men laugh. In truth, they all knew Boromir’s
moods well and were grateful they were not with him at the moment.
“He still holds hope in his heart that he will bring help. So, let us
continue our preparations for the battles ahead. He left… in December,
he turned his head towards home. He should arrive here very soon. Now,
to your duties.”
With that, he walked to his alcove, pulled aside the curtain that
separated his area from the main cavern, and stepped inside.
Immediately, his shoulders sagged. After a moment, he walked towards
the map table and pulled out writing paper.
The errand-rider has arrived with your missive. I cannot understand
all that you write. So simple a note, yet something in it chills my
very being. I will not rest easy until you are standing by my side
again. If time allows, I will go to the Great Library and try to find
out something about the periannath. I had hoped to do so since you
left, but Father has been in one of his moods and keeps me here.
I understand that Mithrandir has been to see Father since you left, and I grieve at not having been able to speak with him.
I know, you would tell me to stay away from the wizard, but he knows so much, Boromir.
Enough of that.
A heavy sigh escaped him.
Let it suffice to say, brother, that
I miss you. My heart is heavy, but I now have a piece of you. I will
keep your letter close till I have you close. Duty calls.
He did not sign it, just sat and looked at it for a moment. Finally, he
folded it and placed it in the oak box that held his important papers;
Boromir's letter he put in his tunic pocket, and then quietly left the