Summary: Faramir goes to Rivendell instead of Boromir, and the fates of many are changed.
Rating information: Rated T for violence, just in case.
Author' s note: I do not own Middle Earth or it's characters. I (sadly) do not own Faramir, so he may be portrayed a bit incorrectly. Feel free to tell me if he is!
And now, Read, enjoy, and review!
Prologue
The standard of Gondor flew from the tower, furling and unfurling solemnly in the wind. Faramir stood beside his older brother Boromir, who was mounted on a horse, preparing to leave for Rivendell, to seek council from Lord Elrond because of a dream that Faramir had had. He could remember the words as clearly as if they had been spoken that moment.
Seek for the sword that was broken; in Imladris it dwells,
There shall be councils taken stronger than Morgul spells.
There shall be shown a token that doom is near at hand
For Isildur's bane shall waken, and the Halfling forth shall stand.
Since their father, Lord Denethor, had insisted that Boromir go instead of him, for he too had had the dream, and Boromir had seconded his decision, Faramir had felt a sense of evil foreboding. He had dreamt each night the same dream. While he sat by the Great River Anduin, a boat floated by glowing with a ghostly light, and he found Boromir's cloven horn in the reeds. He blinked as the memory of the vision returned.
Boromir noticed his brother's nervous expression. "What troubles you, Faramir?" he asked. Faramir looked up at Boromir, and, without warning, another vision appeared before his eyes. Boromir dying, pierced by many black arrows, Alone in the Amon Hen. He shook his head violently. No, he could not let Boromir go.
There was but one thing he could do. How he could even think of this, Faramir did not know. But it had to be done. He had to save his brother's life. His eyes widened when he realized that he must hurt his older brother. No!
But the inner voice inside him calmly told him that it was for the good of Boromir, and for Gondor. If Faramir went to Rivendell instead, he would die, he, the unwanted son of Denethor, and Boromir, his father's pride and joy, would live.
"Faramir?" asked Boromir, the worried look on his face growing more noticeable.
Faramir looked into his eyes with a firm look, but his lower lip trembled. "I am sorry, Boromir," he said in a quavering voice, "Forgive me."
Boromir only had a few seconds to be puzzled, for Faramir pulled him off of the horse onto the ground, knocking him unconscious. The few people standing nearby gasped and stared as Faramir leapt onto the horse and spurred him forward into a gallop, leaving Minas Tirith.
When Father learns what I have done, I shall be known as an enemy of the kingdom. I must never return here; it would be my death.
He did not look back. He did not wish to see Boromir lying prone on the ground, blood seeping from beneath his head. In any other circumstances, Faramir could not have done that to his brother. Boromir was stronger than he, and would easily overpower him. But Faramir had taken advantage, and caught him off guard.
Boromir would never think I would do such a thing as that, he thought bitterly. He trusted me.
A pang of guilt shot through him. He had betrayed that trust.
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UPDATED:7/7/2014: One canonical error addressed, a bit of detail added.
Novaer,
Lúthien