Very short fic I wrote and published in Portuguese some time ago, but forgot to publish the English version as well.
As usual, it is dedicated to the Tolkien Group girls.
And I own nothing. The characters belong to J.R.R. Tolkien.
Hope you like it.
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"Yes"
After having his father confirm what his mind already knew but his heart still refused to believe, Faramir felt disappear all the hope he had dared feel of his father being able to love him someday.
For a moment, he felt his legs go weak.
He had always known that his brother was Denethor's favorite son, his father had never hidden this feeling. But Faramir didn't mind for he loved his brother and knew that his brother also loved him much.
Boromir had always been a good brother, always taken care of him so Faramir had never felt alone, but hearing his father actually say that he'd prefer to have him dead and Boromir alive was something he had never imagined would happen and it hurt him deeply.
He felt weak and lonely. He had no one left. His brother was gone, killed by orcs, and his father did not love him.
Even so, he knew he had to give it yet another try. He couldn't leave things as they were. While praying for a positive answer, he couldn't help asking his father to treasure him more if he returns.
There was a long pause that preceded his father's answer. Faramir hadn't realized he had been holding his breath while waiting for his father's answer to come. However, he was not prepared to hear it. He was not ready to hear his father say that his wish coming true depended on how he would return.
Faramir felt his throat go dry. He knew it was almost impossible for it to happen, but he still had a little hope that his father would at least show some affection towards him while sending him a suicidal mission. But even after all he had gone through for his father and for Gondor, Denethor still didn't consider him worthy. He still not considered him a good son, heir or captain.
He didn't face his father. He couldn't stand it. He knew that all the hope, love and desire to live in his heart had been replaced by darkness only. His eyes got wet, but he wouldn't cry. Showing this weakness would only make his father hate him even more.
Instead, he took a deep breath, raised his head and left the chambers, not noticing that he was being followed by the eyes of a young hobbit who had witnessed everything and whose eyes and heart cried the tears he knew the young captain of Gondor, though he needed, couldn't cry.