Chapter 2: The Dream Returns
Faramir swam harder than he ever had before, or every would again. He was alone in the cold water, and the Nazgul was still nearby. Faramir vainly scanned the water for his brother as he swam to shore and collapsed on the ground. He saw men carrying Boromir away from the shore, and noted with happiness that Boromir was breathing. Then all went dark as Faramir lost conciousness.
***
Faramir rested now that he had no fear of the invading army for some time. The orcs would not swim across the water until the Nazgul returned, and the Nazgul had returned to Mordor. This is what news he could gain from the healers caring for him. His dream, which he had forgotten in the heat of battle, now returned to him whenever he slept.
Seek for the Sword that was Broken.
Faramir could not decipher the riddle. What good would a broken sword be against an ever-growing shadow? Gondor needed more captains like his brother, not a useless weapon.
Isildur's Bane shall awaken.
Faramir remembered Gandalf had asked to see the ancient scrolls of Minas Tirith concerning Isildur. The wizard had appeared worried at the time, and now Faramir was worried as well. What could Isildur's Bane be? It must be something too terrible and dangerous to imagine if it even worried Mithrandir.
Faramir remembered when he was young, when Gandalf encouraged him to read about the great tales instead of simply listening to him. Faramir loved exploring the old library, but his father always scolded him for going there. Sons of the Steward were supposed to train to become great captains, and then become great leaders of men, because eventually they would rule until the king returned or they passed the staff on to a son. None of this included studying rotting scrolls at all hours.
Faramir sighed. His father knew best, but sometimes he wondered if Denethor simply wanted him to be another Boromir. At any rate, though the tales did nothing to aid Faramir in real life, they helped him to escape his world of being the second best. Sometimes when the nights were cold and the men despaired, Faramir was able to tell a tale to boost morale. It was one of the few things that Faramir was good at that he actually enjoyed doing.
If only Father could have seen Boromir and I fighting as equals, thought Faramir. Maybe Boromir could tell him when we come home. Father wouldn't believe me.
Faramir drifted into sleep and once again saw the strange dream. But when he awakened, he noticed something was different.
Boromir was sitting up, and his eyes showed that he was deeply troubled about something.
"What is the matter, Boromir?" Faramir asked nervously. Boromir did not usually show what was on his mind when he was troubled; something was clearly wrong.
"A...a dream came to me," Boromir said. "All was dark, except..."
"...for a pale light in the West. Was there...a voice?" Faramir asked.
"Yes," Boromir said. "It was terrible. It spoke of doom near at hand."
"You had the same dream I had," Faramir said. In a way, he was relieved that he could talk to someone who had seen the same thing. But he now knew that the dream was not just something his mind had made up after reading too many scrolls. "I have been having it since the eve before the bridge attack."
"Why haven't you said something before?" Boromir asked, as if it was amazing his brother was able to keep something this important to himself.
"I did not wish to trouble you, with the Enemy so near," Faramir said. "But I think we must ask Father what Imladris is, and what we should do. He is wiser than both of us in such matters."
"Indeed," Boromir said. "We will go as soon as we have both recovered our strength. But next time, Faramir, do not keep such secrets to yourself. I would not have your mind wasted troubling over the fate of Middle-Earth all alone. You are destined for greater things than that."
----
In the next chapter, Denethor appears! And I promise he's not going to be some inhuman old dotard like in other fics. Please review.
Faramir swam harder than he ever had before, or every would again. He was alone in the cold water, and the Nazgul was still nearby. Faramir vainly scanned the water for his brother as he swam to shore and collapsed on the ground. He saw men carrying Boromir away from the shore, and noted with happiness that Boromir was breathing. Then all went dark as Faramir lost conciousness.
***
Faramir rested now that he had no fear of the invading army for some time. The orcs would not swim across the water until the Nazgul returned, and the Nazgul had returned to Mordor. This is what news he could gain from the healers caring for him. His dream, which he had forgotten in the heat of battle, now returned to him whenever he slept.
Seek for the Sword that was Broken.
Faramir could not decipher the riddle. What good would a broken sword be against an ever-growing shadow? Gondor needed more captains like his brother, not a useless weapon.
Isildur's Bane shall awaken.
Faramir remembered Gandalf had asked to see the ancient scrolls of Minas Tirith concerning Isildur. The wizard had appeared worried at the time, and now Faramir was worried as well. What could Isildur's Bane be? It must be something too terrible and dangerous to imagine if it even worried Mithrandir.
Faramir remembered when he was young, when Gandalf encouraged him to read about the great tales instead of simply listening to him. Faramir loved exploring the old library, but his father always scolded him for going there. Sons of the Steward were supposed to train to become great captains, and then become great leaders of men, because eventually they would rule until the king returned or they passed the staff on to a son. None of this included studying rotting scrolls at all hours.
Faramir sighed. His father knew best, but sometimes he wondered if Denethor simply wanted him to be another Boromir. At any rate, though the tales did nothing to aid Faramir in real life, they helped him to escape his world of being the second best. Sometimes when the nights were cold and the men despaired, Faramir was able to tell a tale to boost morale. It was one of the few things that Faramir was good at that he actually enjoyed doing.
If only Father could have seen Boromir and I fighting as equals, thought Faramir. Maybe Boromir could tell him when we come home. Father wouldn't believe me.
Faramir drifted into sleep and once again saw the strange dream. But when he awakened, he noticed something was different.
Boromir was sitting up, and his eyes showed that he was deeply troubled about something.
"What is the matter, Boromir?" Faramir asked nervously. Boromir did not usually show what was on his mind when he was troubled; something was clearly wrong.
"A...a dream came to me," Boromir said. "All was dark, except..."
"...for a pale light in the West. Was there...a voice?" Faramir asked.
"Yes," Boromir said. "It was terrible. It spoke of doom near at hand."
"You had the same dream I had," Faramir said. In a way, he was relieved that he could talk to someone who had seen the same thing. But he now knew that the dream was not just something his mind had made up after reading too many scrolls. "I have been having it since the eve before the bridge attack."
"Why haven't you said something before?" Boromir asked, as if it was amazing his brother was able to keep something this important to himself.
"I did not wish to trouble you, with the Enemy so near," Faramir said. "But I think we must ask Father what Imladris is, and what we should do. He is wiser than both of us in such matters."
"Indeed," Boromir said. "We will go as soon as we have both recovered our strength. But next time, Faramir, do not keep such secrets to yourself. I would not have your mind wasted troubling over the fate of Middle-Earth all alone. You are destined for greater things than that."
----
In the next chapter, Denethor appears! And I promise he's not going to be some inhuman old dotard like in other fics. Please review.