Hey I'm finally back and sorry to say that this is the last chapter of this story! *Sob* But anyway I hope you enjoyed this because I certainly enjoyed writing it!

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Gently Faramir eased open his brother's door and his nose was instantly hit by a foul smell. The curtains were drawn, making the room seem very dreary.

"Faramir?" came a raspy voice from the bed and he sat on the end and took his brother's clammy hand in his own.

"Yes Boromir I am here," he whispered soothingly.

"I'm glad," he smiled weakly. "I wanted you to be here just in case.."

"Listen to me Boromir," said Faramir urgently. "You are not going to die, not here not now. You just have to trust me."

"But look at this," he murmured pulling the sheet off his bare chest.

The once tan skin was now red and raw, and there were welts all over the place that were oozing a thin clear liquid.

"No one knows what it is," said Boromir. "But it hurts terribly. It is like my chest is caving in."

"What is that?" asked Faramir, gesturing to a small black pot sitting over the fire burning in the fireplace.

"The healers said it would ease the pain," answered Boromir and Faramir walked over to it. Sniffing it he realized with a jolt what it was.

"What's wrong?" asked Boromir as Faramir took the pot off the fire and threw the contents out the window.

"Nothing," Faramir lied, not wanting to voice his suspicions, but he couldn't help but wonder why the healers had given him that particular herb. They knew its effects..

However the sight of his Brother inhaling the fresh air brought a smile to his face.

"Rest now," he whispered.

"Faramir?" asked Boromir as Faramir turned to leave. "How did you know that I wasn't going to die from the disease?"

"What?"

"You seemed so sure when you said that I wasn't going to die. How?"

"How what?" said Faramir trying desperately to avoid the subject.

"You know what, never mind," he said irritably, rolling over on the bed so his back was facing his brother.

"I'm sorry Boromir," said Faramir gently sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I know," he whispered back, and before either could blink they were wrapped in each other's arms, Faramir sobbing.

"I have to tell," he sobbed over and over.

"Talk to me," Boromir whispered and Faramir did so starting with how he and Aragorn had met and ending with their fight, and then moving on the dreams although he omitted the part about Boromir dying. He just couldn't bring himself to tell him.

He was so caught up in retelling his tale that he didn't notice the look that passed over his brother's face every time Aragorn was mentioned.

When he was finished he dried his tears and smiled. "You should sleep now, enough talking for today."

He got up to leave but Boromir caught his arm. "Please stay with me."

Faramir stared at his brother, for he never thought that he would make this request. But he had no say in the matter for he had already climbed into bed and Boromir's arms were wrapped around him.

"Sleep," he whispered, and he could feel Boromir sigh before falling alseep. He smiled contentedly before too letting sleep take over him.

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Faramir never expected that dreams would come to him while he was in the strong arms of his brother, but he was wrong.

Loud horn blasts echoed in the distance as Faramir stood at the bank of a river. Before his eyes hung the horn of Gondor, although it was cloven in half. The water was dark under the light of the moon but yet he could see a boat floating towards him. A fear crept into his heart and he realized that he did not want to see what was in the boat.

"No," he whispered harshly.

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Faramir sat up in bed, his breath extremely uneven. Next to him Boromir tossed and turned on the sheets, occasionally muttering some words.

"Father..no..fire..tomb..Faramir" The last word was shouted and the sound echoed around the chamber. Faramir stared at him in shock. He was having these dreams too?

Gently he shook Boromir awake.

"Faramir," he gasped his sweat slicked chest heaving.

"Are you having dreams too?" asked Faramir softly.

Boromir turned his head away.

"Don't hide this from me," Faramir whispered placing a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"Yes." The single word was barley audible yet Faramir heard it.

"What are they about?"

"I can't tell you."

"Yes you can. I know what a terrible burden they can be."

"I can't tell you."

"But."

"Go Faramir," and Faramir was surprised to see tears glistening in his brother's eyes.

He hesitated before standing up saying, "You can tell me anything."

"I know," said Boromir, smiling slightly. Faramir returned the smile before exiting the room only to meet Gandalf in the hallway.

"How is he?" the wizard whispered.

"Fine," said Faramir his voice sounding strained. Slowly he removed from his pocket a leaf that he had taken from the black pot earlier and handed it to Gandalf.

The wizard's eyes grew hard and cold as he studied the leaf. "I will speak to the healers immediately." And with that he strode off leaving Faramir alone.

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He could not remember how he got back to his chambers but the next morning he was at his window, looking down upon his father, brother, and Gandalf who were talking together.

The night before had unnerved him a little bit and the way that Boromir had said fire chilled him.

"Young Steward," came a mocking voice in the back of his head and he threw himself onto the bed screaming.

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(Years Later.) Faramir's POV

As I stood on the bank of the Anduin I knew that it had happened. We waited for any news of Boromir but there was none. Only I knew what had befallen my brother as earlier that day the call of a horn pierced the air.

So I stood there, and even though I knew it was not a dream it felt like one as I took in the sight of my brother lying dead in the boat, moonlight making his face seem radiant. All his gear was there, except for his horn. I smiled grimly knowing what had become of it. Gently I pushed the boat back into the current of the river knowing where its destination was. And then it was over. All years ago knowing that this was going to happen, and it was over in what seemed like a heartbeat. It gave me this odd feeling and so I sat down on the bank of the great river and cried.

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Battle was upon us and I rode, killing enemies just and Boromir had taught me when I was young, but I could tell that we wouldn't last much longer. I parried a few times with someone, I couldn't tell anymore, sweat was blurring my vision, and fatigue had taken over my body. This was why I didn't see it coming. A deadly black dart that hit my neck, making me fall to the ground.

"See Boromir," I whispered the noise of battle barley audible. "I don't die in a fire. I die here." And with that said I let myself succumb to the poison coursing through my veins.

The End

A/N: Of course we all know that Faramir doesn't die here but I stopped here because it worked. So if you have a reason to flame me please don't use that.