A Father's Love – Of Boromir and Faramir

His eyes were locked on those stairs. Those long, dark, frightening stairs. They would have frightened any boy of his age… Well, almost any boy. "Brother would not be frightened," the lad murmured to himself, pressing onward as best as he could. He had come this far. Up to the tower and now only this last flight of stairs lay between his new duty and where he stood then. And why shouldn't he go? Hadn't he been told to?

"Standing there shan't get the job done," a voice said behind him and Faramir whirled around to see his elder brother leaning against the wall of the corridor, a playful smile peeking the edges of his lips and his eyes dancing with mischief of seeing his brother in such a situation.

"I know that," the nine year old said. "I'm just thinking."

"And that will get you up those stairs?"

"Don't mock me!" his younger brother cried.

Boromir's taunting smile slackened and he moved closer. "I'll tell you a secret when we get to the top," he said simple and began to move up the stairs. Faramir watched him, eyes round and wide and followed as quickly as his small feet would let him. He continued in silence as his brother murmured about this and that, finally coming to the fact that his uniform did not fit.

"I've grown!" Faramir announced proudly.

"And yet Father does not notice," Boromir responded with a sad note to his voice.

"Not since Mother died… She was the only reason he took notice of me."

"You're not dumb at all for your age, no matter what they say," Boromir laughed.

"What do they say?" his younger brother demanded, fists clenched.

"Nothing at all, actually," the elder answered. "But they should rejoice that you've taken a good look at your fear and faced it this day."

Faramir looked around where they were and noted they were no longer in the passage way, but the tower. "We made it!"

"You made it, little brother," Boromir said with a smile and ruffled his hair. "And even if he is not, I am proud of you."

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The long table stretched out before Denethor, Steward of Gondor. He sat at its head with no one to his left or his right. No, the right was only for his eldest son and the left, at times, was where Faramir was allowed. Where were the boys, he thought to himself. Surely the task of going to the tower had not been that difficult for his youngest, and he knew for certain the many tasks he set before his fifteen year old son would have been completed long ago.

The doors burst open, interrupting the train of thought. Faramir, full of the energy that belongs only to a child, bounded up to the table. "We did it, Father!" he announced with a grin spread across his young face. "We did it!"

"Did what?" his father demanded impatiently.

"We made it up to the tower!"

"We?" the Steward asked, eyes focusing now on his eldest.

The teen grinned sheepishly. "I really did nothing, Father. Only stayed with him…"

"Then how shall he learn?" their father growled, standing in his place. "How shall he learn to be more like his elder brother if his elder brother only shelters him?"

"Father, he's only a boy!" Boromir argued. "I only-"

"Enough! You shall have no dinner this night until you go by yourself," Denethor announced to the boy who now stood shaking.

"But Father! The sun has set and there is no light at all!"

"It is as I say and it shall stay," Denethor growled and took his seat once more.

Nodding and biting his lip as to not let out a sob, Faramir took his leave. Boromir turned his angry eyes upon his calm father. "How can you let him go? He's only a boy!"

"And in his young age he shall learn or he shall fall. I have little use for Faramir and he should soon learn this. You, my son, though should sit. Dine with me tonight."

Boromir shook his head in disbelief. "I feel I've lost all appetite tonight."

His father waved him off without a word and he all but stormed out and to the room in which he shared with his younger brother. Faramir was sitting on his bed, a book perched on his knee, eyes staring intently at it as not to look at anything else. He did not look up when his brother entered, nor even when he sat upon his bed.

"Put the book down, Faramir," Boromir commanded softly after several moments of silence.

"But I'm reading."

"No you're not. You're staring at the page."

The lad dropped the book to the bed, his eyes brimming with tears. "Why can't I be more like you?" he demanded suddenly. "Father adores you! But not me… What have I done wrong? How can I… " His sobs choked him as his elder brother pulled him into a tight embrace and Faramir latched his arms around his neck. "I just want him to love me like he loves you…"

"Remember I told you that I'd let you in on a secret?" Boromir whispered. When he felt Faramir nod into his shoulder and he pulled away slowly. "I was no older than you when Father first had me going up those horrible stairs, and of course this never gets out on pain of death, you hear?" This brought a small smile to the little one's lips. "I ran. Faster than I thought I could. I heard a crash that turned out to be some of the men trying to frighten me, and by my word it worked…"

"You ran, Brother?"

"I did. And you did not." Boromir smiled. "Father will learn in time, dearest little brother. He will understand your worth. He will see it as I do. As Mother did."

"Truly?"

"Truly."

Faramir smiled. "Then I will show him."

"In that I have no doubt."