DISCLAIMER: I own nothing of LOTR. zip. Nada. Not even an insy wicy teeny winy.

A/N: Ok, this fic may be weird (I wrote it during my 2 hour after-school detention, lol.) but I tried my

best, k? So..just please read it, flame me, worship me, whatever. Just..read it. Thanks. And oh, there's some parts where all of you might be thinking "OMG Faramir would NEVER do that!" or "This would never happen!", just calm down, k? This work isn't official Tolkien writing. and if some lines may seem too modern, tell me please. And now, our Feature presentation.

"Did you ever love me?"

Confused and fed up in this parallel world. Did he really have a reason to be overcome with all this grief? You see children in the first level, scared, alone, hungry and homeless, and yet a man with everything anyone's ever wanted or ever could dream to imagine feels lower than any poor peasant could ever be. Captaincy over this country, son of the steward, brother to the man who was in control and command of every and any soldier of Gondor, has his own kitchen, maids, even apartments. So what was his problem? Why wasn't he happy?

Having a high-maintenance life comes with a price. His life wasn't even as high maintained as it sounds. There were nights when he wouldn't sleep at all, making plans and routines for his rangers. He barley had any time for himself anymore. and his father...

"If I should return, think better of me, father,"

"That will depend on the manner of your return"

He turned slowly, just before hearing his father's response. His vision was blurred with tears and his heart heavy, as he walked slowly out of the citadel. He closed his eyes and gave a great sigh just after the doors closed. It was beautiful sunny afternoon. He could hear playful shouts of young lords somewhere in the distance. but other than that, he was oblivious to everything else. Seemingly numb. Surprisingly calm ,almost glad of this mission he was to go on. but just one thing that bothered him for most of his years just had to be cleared.

He stormed back into the Citadel, aware and didn't care of the eyes on him, including the young hobbit and his father. "I want to know what I did", he said quietly, to the Steward. "what?" was his father's reply. "I want to know what I did!", Faramir said, this time loud and angry, and he kept it that way.

"What did I do or didn't do that made you treat me this way? Have you ever thought to consider that I am your son and you should've loved me?" should've. as if he was already gone. "I will not level with you, nor have another discussion. Take out my orders as before!" Denethor replied, and there was clear hatred in his eyes. "No, I want an answer!", Faramir shouted. he didn't care that this was the Steward he was talking to, he didn't care it was his father. All the anger, and blood and tears and sadness were exploding out. "All my life I've wondered if you ever loved me. Did you?did you ever love me, father? when Boromir died, did you ever think that you had another son who loved you dearly who was grieved and seeking your comfort.? did you ever know how hard I tried to please you?"

Tears were streaming down his face. pippin was looking from the steward to Faramir. there was a

few silent moments. Denethor's face looked horrid, cold, but as hard as it was, Faramir continued to

stare at those lifeless black eyes of his. his voice suddenly grew quiet. "Its because of mother. Because I killed her. You should know I wasn't the one who kept her from going to her home. kept her from seeing anything out of this walls. let her weaken, absorb any life in her heart." Denethor stood up. "So don't you dare tell me her death was my fault" Faramir finished , the steward stood still for a second then walked closer to his son. "Get of my city" he whispered dangerously. Faramir smiled a little . "its not your city, my lord the rightful king will come and reclaim the throne"

and with that he turned away and left.

So...reviews?