Summary: He wonders if he shouldn't have involved himself.
Universe: Books
Author's Note: I won't be delving all that deeply into Gandalf and Faramir's relationship here; I have another idea for where to put that. The quote in italics is taken from page 80 in my copy of The Return of the King. Also, the occasional shift from 'Gandalf' to 'Mithrandir' is deliberate; make of it what you will.
Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings.
Gandalf knows what the Steward of Gondor calls his youngest son, both as an insult and out of some sort of derisive affection.
"Wizard's pupil," Denethor calls Faramir in anger, and when Gandalf hears it, hears those words spoken like a blast of flame into the air, he winces, and begins to wonder when they were all caught in the trap of being stuck in one mindset, never to find a new one.
Denethor has latched on to the image of his younger child abandoning the path he walks for that of the wizard he resents, choosing to see this to cloak the grief and the pain and the bitterness that has ever been in his heart when his eyes alight on Faramir.
And Gandalf, he fears, has only aided the Lord Steward in his attempts to close his heart to his son.
Gandalf can remember, with all the lucidity of one who has had eons to watch the worlds of men bloom and collapse, the surprise he felt when a son of Denethor, moreover, a son of Denethor very much akin to his father, sought him out, desiring to learn from him.
Both Boromir and Faramir were fond of him, Gandalf had realized from the first occasion he had to meet them both. Both were in awe of him, as most were, and neither ever quite managed to shake off that awe, even after growing into manhood. Boromir enjoyed speaking with him, watching in fascination as he blew elaborate shapes from his pipe, but it was Faramir who more actively sought out his company.
It was Faramir, the quiet, studious son, the son whom Gandalf could plainly see was his father in miniature with only a few differences—he was easier of nature and more inclined to good humor, and there were other things deeper in his self, that made him different from Denethor—who wanted to learn from him.
"For Boromir was loyal to me and no wizard's pupil," Denethor spits bitterly, and Gandalf restrains himself from objecting—that, he knows, would only exacerbate matters between father and son.
Eru knows they don't need exacerbating.
'The wizard's pupil'… Is that how Denethor thinks of his son? Is that how he has come to see him?
Gandalf, pondering on this question, feels an emotion that has become all too recognizable to him in these past months: the bitter cup of guilt, poured down his throat with a will and a tide like a sea at storm.
Faramir, as a child, looked to him with eyes that were wide and awe-struck, but also with eyes that understood him. The child had—still has, Gandalf tells himself—a singular gift: he can understand a person from the moment he lays eyes on them, no matter who they are. If he were to come face-to-face with one of the Valar, Gandalf speculates that Faramir would be able to understand them immediately. He can see straight through the masks and façades of all those with whom he comes into contact. That was only one of the reasons Denethor always sent his son away from him; he was disturbed by someone who could see him so clearly, perturbed by his laconic, discerning child, and resented the fact that Faramir could understand him so quickly.
As his pupil in history and lore, Faramir strove for his approval. But what he always needed more, Gandalf knew, was the approval of his father.
And once it became common knowledge that Faramir was learning from Mithrandir, Faramir lots the approval of his father entirely.
It pained Denethor. It still pains him, that his son could possibly prefer the tutelage of Mithrandir, whom he fears and resents, to him, Faramir's own father. Denethor, who has never had any great skill at handling disappointment and what he views as rejection, expresses it in anger and poisoned barbs.
'The wizard's pupil'. When he calls Faramir that, he is denying that he is his son. He lies, and tells himself and everyone else, in so many words, that he does not love him, and for Faramir, who can hear the words as clearly as anyone else, this is the most fatal blow that can ever be dealt to him.
Gandalf has lived long, and has had the opportunity to care for many. But there are few whom he has loved in a way similar to Faramir.
He has, however, he fears, wreaked more havoc on Faramir's life than he ever wished to. Perhaps, if he had not involved himself in the life of the Steward of Gondor's son, the solemn child who has become the somber adult would be a happier man.
He can not abandon him now, though. Not when there is no one else to give him comfort.
For though it is Denethor who has affixed the sobriquet to him, Faramir is truly the wizard's pupil.
And Gandalf does not abandon his students.