Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings, its characters, and lands, are the property of Tolkien Estates and New Line Cinemas. This story was written for my enjoyment and the enjoyment of others, not for profit.

Chapter Three

Farewell to Imladris

"Goodbye, Feanor," Faramir stroked the horse on the forehead. "You have served me well. You will be well cared for here. I will come back for you someday." I hope, he added to himself.

That night, his sleep had been disturbed by dreams of Boromir's death. He had told himself over and over that it wasn't going to happen that way, but the dreams still came. He was exhausted, for he had done much sword training the day before with Elladan, Elrohir, and Aragorn, and he had barely had any restful sleep.

Perhaps I should not have joined the Fellowship, he thought. Then he banished the thought from his mind. It was his destiny now. It would have been Boromir's otherwise. And Faramir was not afraid to die, especially if it meant Boromir would live.

Still he was nervous. It was hard to leave Feanor behind, though he knew the elves would care for the horse. Feanor had been Boromir's, and he hoped that his brother would forgive him. And Faramir's closest friends in Rivendell, Elladan and Elrohir, would not be coming. He would be alone.

Those lucky hobbits, he thought with envy, They all know each other. I have to find a way to get along with a strange elf, the heir of Isildur, who may just see me as a challenge, and a dwarf. At least I have Mithrandir.

But even Mithrandir seemed a stranger now. He seemed more stern, even with Faramir, and concentrated his attention on the Ringbearer.

Faramir had learned little of the ways of the others during the many days between the council and now, when they would set out. He found himself missing his older brother. Perhaps they could have gone together. It would have been much easier. No, Boromir must stay and guard the city. He is Gondor's finest soldier.

He shook his head sadly. "I know the Ring will try to bend me to its will. It already has tried. Because it knows that, of the Fellowship, I am the weakest," he told his horse. Feanor whickered in reply. "Perhaps I should tell them that I can't do this."

"Never go back on your word, Faramir, son of Denethor," A strong voice came. Faramir whirled to see Aragorn standing behind him, in the stable entrance.

Faramir bowed his head and began to speak. "I-"

"Is this what Gondor has become?" Aragorn interrupted, "a land of cowards?"

Faramir's eyes flashed angrily. "It is not for cowardliness that I would fall back on my word," he retorted, "It is for the sake of the others!"

Aragorn's expression was still cold. "Do you think that the Ring will not tempt the rest of us?" he asked, "You are not the only one. There are nine of us. We will all suffer the same."

Faramir shook his head, "I am an easy target," he sighed, "I am the son of the steward, and devoted to Gondor. It will try to make me think that the best thing to do would be to give it to my father." And to show him that I am worth something. He remembered the council, and his deep, inner longing that the Ring was already tempting him with. "It already has. It will make me think of how powerful I would become if I took it."

Aragorn's face softened a bit, " But you do not desire power, do you, Faramir of Gondor?" he asked, "You desire peace. You are different than your father."

Faramir raised his head. "I am?" he asked.

Aragorn nodded. "You will be able to withstand its pull," he said, "You are a noble man, Faramir, with Numenorean blood. I see something in you that is not in your father. More of a care for the people around you. And by that, you will realize that it is not your desire to have the Ring, but the Enemy's for you to take it."

Faramir dipped his head. "Thank you, my lord," he replied, grateful for the counsel. "I will remember this."

The smallest of smiles showed on the face of the Dunadan. "You would do well to. Now, come," he said, "It is time for setting off."

0o0o0

Aragorn's words still rang in Faramir's ears when they stood outside of Rivendell. Elrond, Glorfindel, Elladan, Elrohir, and Erestor, along with a few others, were there to send them off. Glorfindel stepped forward to Faramir, holding up the blade Berion, which Faramir had been lent.

"Take this," he said, "as a gift. To protect yourself, as you lost your own blade on the journey here." A slight twinkle came into the elf's eyes.

Faramir rolled his eyes, remembering how own sword had fallen from his saddle while he fled from orcs. Now it was left somewhere in Wilderland. "Thank you," he said, drawing the sword. It gleamed in the pale sunlight.

Glorfindel dipped his head.

Elrond put a hand on Faramir's shoulder. "Remember, you will always have friends," he told Faramir.

Faramir bowed. "Thank you, my lord." He watched as the elf lord spoke to the others, and he himself bid farewell to the sons of Elrond.

0o0o0

At last, all of the farewells were said. Gandalf led the way south, towards the Nameless Land. Faramir shuddered. He had been in Ithilien, and that was as close to Mordor as he had wanted to get.

He found himself walking beside Aragorn. The ranger caught his eye, and he smiled. Aragorn's conversation with him earlier had done him good. Yes, the Ring was a very powerful influence. It would try to bring him down.

But Faramir, as Aragorn had somehow known, did not want Power. He would help the Ringbearer to the end. He would enter the Nameless Land to have this evil destroyed. Somehow, he knew that Boromir would not have let this happen. His older brother was too fond of power and glory.

But Faramir was different. He would see this through, or die. He would not try to bring the Ring to Gondor. All that would do would be to destroy it.

Aragorn returned the smile. "You are stronger than most," he told him, "I trust you."

Faramir felt a sense of honor that the heir to the throne of Gondor would trust him. "Men have always been the weakest race, the most desiring of power," he said, "But what you said was true. I do not want this thing. That is why I came. If I had wanted it, I still know it is evil, and I would have stayed in Imladris to keep from the temptation."

"I realized that," Aragorn remarked, "I saw the conflict in your eyes during the council. It was already tempting you then, was it not?"

Faramir nodded, "Yes," he confessed. "It was." He sighed, "It tempts me, not only with power, but with something I have desired my whole life. But the suffering it would bring would outweigh the good it would do me."

Aragorn put a hand on his shoulder. "You are very wise," he said, "Wise enough to be the steward. It is a pity that your older brother would not be so wise in this matter."

Faramir looked down solemnly, "I knew that if it had anything to do with the One Ring, as Mithrandir has told me about it, he would be tempted beyond what he could bear. Boromir is quite drawn by power."

Aragorn nodded grimly in agreement. Then they walked on in silence for a while.

As they walked, Faramir thought about what would happen at home. Denethor would be furious, and perhaps Boromir as well. He may be executed if he ever returned. But this was truly not the reason that he chose to keep the Ring from Minas Tirith. He was no coward. But he did know what was right.

0o0o0

UPDATED: 7/7/2014: Character and dialog changes to go with previous chapter, continuity errors fixed.

Again, I hope the update helped the story.

Novaer!

-Lúthien