Foster Father of The Heart - part II
by Larrkin

He blinked, memory dawning, then, faith what a glare! Poor Faramir. He never had found a workable argument to that answer of mine, though he'd heard me say those words to him more than once. Alas, I had returned to the enemy camp, and all because I understood him too well and loved him so much. What a troublesome big brother I was. Again, I understood. I had two such guardians myself.

Faramir fumed at me for several moments, then he huffed and leaned over his table covered with plans, bracing himself on his fists and his stiff arms, glaring down unseeingly. He was quiet for a long time and I left him to his brooding. I knew he didn't want to be angry with me, but he was; oh, my, he was.

Finally he straightened and growled, "Is there anything else, Master Steward? As you can see I'm a busy man."

"Faramir," I said, my voice suddenly soft, and when he refused to look at me I grabbed him by the upper arm and led his protesting self to a secluded nook of shade behind a broken wall where I gently bullied him back into the corner and stood before him. He yanked his arm loose and cast me a reproachful scowl.

"Faramir," I said again in the same quiet tone, and I took his stiff body in my arms, hugging him, holding him firmly despite his feeble struggles. "It's alright, sweetling," I murmured against his hair. "I know. You and I are used to choosing for ourselves. We are used to command, used to deciding the fate of others. It's hard, isn't it, when others decide our fate for us?"

His limbs remained rigid a moment longer, then he relaxed and I felt him sigh heavily and nod. "I am not your enemy, little brother," I said. "As ever, I seek only to protect you – "

"I don't need protecting."

Muffled, pouty voice against my shoulder. I grinned. He was no longer furious, just unhappily resigned. "Aye, you do. You especially need protecting from yourself. I'm sorry, but there it is."

"Valar protect me from over-protective big brothers."

"Aye, little brother. I do understand."

I drew back to look at him and Faramir raised his sad eyes to me and in those sorrowful depths I saw reflected the same inner battle I'd so recently fought in Lothlorien. I knew there was naught I could do to help him, but seeing my little brother struggle this way brought out a fierce protectiveness in me, a need to make things better for him as I'd always tried to do.

And suddenly I thought of a way . . . . Well, although, was this . . . wise? Hmmmm . . . oh, well . . . yes . . . yes. What could it hurt? Of course. Surely this would be harmless enough. In fact, it was perfect. An interesting little quest with few physical demands and no real danger . . . at least, I think Aragorn had said there was no real danger. I cast back to what Aragorn and Damrod had been saying late last night . . . .

"I can scarce think why anything would remain in those sewers. Sam said that after leaving Faramir he and Frodo traveled through them as quickly as they could. They even kept up with Gollum. Anything escaping the battle through those channels would have likely kept going all the way through to the forest and freedom. But we shall needs be certain. A detachment should be sent in to explore."

"I trust access to the sewers is forbidden then, my lord?"

"Aye. Not that any wouldst care to enter in there. But, I agree, Damrod; as there seems to be no real danger I think this matter can wait until --"

I narrowed my eyes ". . . as there seems to be no real danger . . . ." Well, that certainly didn't sound too ominous. And neither Aragorn nor Damrod had been overly concerned. Had they? Why they'd been absolutely dismissive. Hadn't they?

"Boromir?"

"Mmmm?" I glanced at Faramir's impatient frown, then I grinned and said, "Sorry. I was thinking . . . ." His withering glare made me laugh. "I mean I was just considering a special little . . . ummm . . . a special task you and I might undertake."

He brightened at once. "Task?"

"Aye. You know the old sewers, where you released Frodo and Sam?"

"And that sly creature, yes," he said with disdain. "I hear that until an armed party goes through to make certain nothing foul dwells somewhere within the long span that Aragorn has forbidden anyone access. Not that anyone would choose to wander through there."

"None save you and me, little brother," I said.

"Pardon?"

I leaned closer to him and said in an unduly hushed tone, "I think you and I needs form our own two-man armed party. Why bother sending in an entire detachment to do what just a few skillful warriors like you and I can do? I think Aragorn will be pleased that we took the initiative and saved some valuable warriors a few tedious hours."

Faramir studied me as though considering the state of my sanity, then his eyes lit up with the first gleam of interest I'd seen all morning. I hurried on, heartened by his enthusiasm and more delighted than ever with my daringly brilliant plan. Actually, 'twas neither daring nor brilliant, but it was at least something.

"You and I aren't fool enough to be ambushed or to blunder into a party of renegades – "

" – if indeed anything is lurking there," Faramir added.

"– which I doubt. It, or they, would have made their presence known by now."

"And why would anything linger in those sewers instead of just following them to the end where they could escape clean away as Sam and Frodo did?"

"The way I see it, little brother, if Aragorn truly believed there was something foul in there he would have sent a detachment of warriors in straightaway – "

"– or, if for some reason he chose to wait, he would have at least posted guards lest whatever 'it' was tried to re-enter Osgiliath."

We stared at each other, Faramir looking like a bright-eyed little boy. I vow at any moment he was going to start dancing up and down with excitement. My poor lad. How hopelessly frustrated he must be to become this thrilled over such a feeble excuse for an 'adventure.'

"So what say you, little brother? Care for an . . . adventure?" I said.

His flashed me that winning smile, further softening my heart. "As ever, big brother, I'm your man."

"Then come," I said, heading for our horses. "Get your sword, although we probably won't need to use them. This will likely be a right dull adventure, you know, so don't get your hopes up too hi – "

"'Tis an adventure, just the same, whether my hopes are up or not – wait!" I stopped and turned at his sharp tone. Faramir's smile had melted. "Boromir, what about . . . what about – "

"Damrod," we said in unison.

Oh, but we had been wildly swept away to have forgotten about him! I thought for a moment. "How long will he be down at the wharf?"

"For several hours yet, until noon at the latest."

"But I vow it'll take us longer than that to travel to the end of the sewers and back again, wouldn't you say?"

Faramir nodded. "I think so. And when Damrod finishes at the wharf he'll return here."

"Expecting to find us where he left us."

"Or somewhere nearby."

"And he'll expect us to have left a note as to where we can be found if needed."

"Ohhhhh, yes," Faramir replied with a significant look. "That he will."

Hmm. I stared off. There wasn't that much to consider. We both knew how our devoted lieutenant would react should we disobey Aragorn's orders. Hmm.

"Well," Faramir muttered on a sigh of exasperation. "That's that then."

I glanced at my little brother. He was again staring unseeingly at some point beyond me, that sad-eyed look of his punching a hole in my gut. And all at once I felt hugely exasperated myself!

"What about Damrod, you ask?" I growled. Faramir shot me a startled glance. "When last I checked, little brother, I was Steward of Gondor."

He studied me for a long moment, then slowly raised a most dubious brow. Even when he said nothing my brother said it eloquently. Suddenly feeling less than fully committed I heard myself mutter, "I know."

"You recall what our lieutenant has ever said, Boromir."

I winced. "Aye. 'There is a fundamental state – '"

"'– a deeper truth that eternally supplants rank and privilege.'"

"Aye."

"You know the rest."

"By heart."

"Damrod is right."

"I know. Faramir, truly, I know." And for as long as we could remember, Damrod had been there with us, supplying that fundamental state of love, that deeper truth of devotion that had eternally supplanted all rank and privilege, and my brother and I knew how fortunate we had ever been in him.

Faramir made an odd sound. I turned to him and found that he was gazing off again, but with the strangest expression on his face, a stricken, bewildered look I couldn't quite fathom. Then he gave a small and miserable sigh, and turned away.

Something twisted then exploded within me! Suddenly I wanted to do a little supplanting of my own! Suddenly I wanted to go into those cursed sewers more than anything in Middle Earth! And I didn't care if a whole family of Balrogs was in there puffing their pipes! Rot all of it! I wanted to do what I wanted to do! And just who dared stop me? My heart galloped and thudded. For the sake of mercy! Was I Steward or was I not?

I straightened and said in my finest authoritative manner, "Never mind all that. We're going. Now, little brother, ere Damrod returns."

He turned back with a quizzical gaze. "Never mind all . . . what?"

"Get your sword."

"Boromir! Never mind all what? Never mind Damrod? Never mind Aragorn's orders?"

"Countermanded."

"WHAT?"

"I am the Steward of Gondor, Faramir. I am in charge here. And I hereby officially countermand Aragorn's orders."

My brother's jaw actually dropped.

"Or do you wish to end our little adventure ere we start it?" I said. "If so, that's fine. We shall just go back to what we were doing. We can spend a peaceful day supervising the work. In fact, you're right. That's no doubt for the best."

Faramir went silently thoughtful, then a slow smile crept over his features and his eyes narrowed and he watched me with a look of amused, indulgent comprehension, as though to say that he knew of how hard I was trying to manipulate him and that I was endearingly bad at it, but since he couldn't help appreciating my willingness to resort to such devious measures, he would play along. I never was very good at this sort of thing.

"No!" he hurriedly exclaimed. "No, no, no! I agree! Never mind to all that indeed! Sound reasoning indeed. You are most certainly the Steward of Gondor, my brother. And, I repeat, as ever, sir, I'm your man."

I gave a swift nod. "Good. Then come, Captain Faramir. Gather your cloak and your sword. Gondor needs your aid. And for Valar's sake, little urchin, stop grinning at me like that."

End part II
Foster Father of the Heart to be continued