Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah. We all know who LOTR belongs to. Not me, that's who.

Notes: This is in the form of a journal that Faramir kept. Just pretend he did, please. I'm not going to start from the beginning of the journal because that would take a long time and I have no inspiration for anything before this part, i.e. Faramir being sent back to Osgiliath by Denethor. So. Just bear with me and read it, and if you like it, review so I know to keep going. Thanks!

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11 March, 3019 of the 3rd Age
Barracks, Minas Tirith

Last night I returned from Osgiliath to Minas Tirith. The city of the stars is once more lost to us, and I know Father will not receive this news well. For, once again, I have failed where Boromir succeeded. Father does not know how grueling the fighting was in Osgiliath. He does not know how difficult it has been to maintain a city on the river, subject to frequent orc attacks that are nearly impossible to discover beforehand, especially when the river mists. Father has not seen the men fall like harvest grain to the blades of Mordor's servants.

Sauron's forces took the city so easily. Sometimes I have wondered if our success in taking the city last year was not at Sauron's pleasure, if perhaps Sauron was merely testing our strength, and could have retrieved Osgiliath at any time he pleased. But Father will not understand that even if I try to explain. He will not understand that Osgiliath will never be made whole again, and even if we retain it, it will merely be an empty shell of a fortress. It is already ravaged beyond our power to ever repair.

Mithrandir saved what was left of our force from the Nazgul that chased us back to Minas Tirith. I cannot deny that his presence in Gondor comforts me greatly, though Father seems to regard the wizard with a resentment I do not completely understand. Father cannot be jealous of the paternal role that Mithrandir has played for me, for, of his own volition, Father stopped taking that role a few weeks after Mother died.

Father has already called me, and I know I must go to him soon. I know he will begrudge me the loss of Osgiliath, and he will rail against anything else I may have done to his disliking. But he is more than my father. He is also my lord, and so I must try to serve him as I may.

Later

I do not know how Father found out about the Halfling's ring, but he berated me for allowing Frodo to leave our borders. Of course, he did so with his words veiled, though he did not veil the utter distaste he has of seeing my face. It reminds him of Boromir and Mother, two people he loved too much and lost too early. Father has uncanny knowledge of many things, and I do not deign to ask how he learns them. Sometimes I wonder if Father's abundant knowledge is a good thing.

Because he refused to allow me to go to Rivendell, Boromir has died, and now he regrets his choice. Perhaps he thinks if I had somehow managed to argue my way into going, he would right now have Boromir instead of me, and that I should have taken Boromir's fate. He does not understand that if I had gone, and died, he would only rebuke me for not being strong enough to stay alive. He would not think that I had died in Boromir's place. He would not change.

I miss Boromir more than even Father, I think. Although Boromir was Father's favorite, Boromir was so much more for me. Maybe I am thinking selfishly, but that is what I believe. Boromir was my protector and my best friend. He taught me all the things he knew, and watched over me all the time. He never thought it embarrassing or annoying that his little brother followed him around everywhere, though many of his friends found their younger siblings humiliating. Boromir was the only person in the world who understood me as I grew up, even though he was so different from me. He tried to make Father see how hard I tried, and sometimes he even fought with Father about it. Once, Father was so harsh about one of my shortcomings that Boromir refused to speak to him for weeks until Father agreed to admit he had overdone it. If Father was the low point of my day, Boromir was always the high point.

Father has asked me to retake Osgiliath. I know it will be futile, but the way he put it made it impossible for me to refuse. I have told the soldiers that this will be a strictly volunteer mission. I cannot force any citizen of Gondor to ride to certain death with me. But most of the soldiers wanted to come with me anyway. I cannot help but feel guilty for taking them away from their homes, especially knowing we will not come back. I doubt I will ever write in this journal again, and there are still so many pages left. Boromir bought it for me more than a year ago, before we retook Osgiliath. I have not written in it as often as I would have liked, as the fighting has become steadily fiercer and more often ever since then. What would Boromir say if he knew what was going on? What would he say about my suicide mission back to the orc-infested city that he took and I lost?