See disclaimer chapter 1

A/N: Please don't think Boromir is and ignorant fool after reading this chapter. Remember, Boromir is noble, Iorwyn isn't, so why should he listen to her?          

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            Iorwyn paced her room, incensed at what had happened. The night after Faramir appeared on her doorstep, the healer had snuck onto the palace grounds under cover of night, using hidden passageways. She entered a garden where Boromir was practicing with his sword. Iorwyn had called quietly to the boy, who turned around surprise. Hidden by shadow, she told him what she knew. And he hadn't believed her! Boromir had refused to believe that his father would do such a thing, and had threatened to have her arrested.

            'Now what do I do?' she wondered to herself. Boromir could help her, but refused. No citizen of Minas Tirith could do anything, for they were powerless against the Steward. What she needed was someone of power, someone who was not biased for Denethor. Suddenly an idea came to her. Smiling hopefully, Iorwyn sat at her desk to write a letter.

~*~

            Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth was sitting alone in his den when the messenger from Minas Tirith entered. Surprised, Imrahil said nothing for a moment. Overcoming his shock, he held out his hand and the messenger delivered the letter. The seal was one he didn't recognize. Opening the letter he read:

To Imrahil, Prince of Dol Amroth,

            Though you do not know me, I am a friend of your nephew, the Lord Faramir. I would not write this if I were not so concerned for my young friend. I have found that, consistently, Lord Faramir has come to me with injuries that I am suspicious of. Every two months on the ides, he is hurt in some way. As of late, the injuries have worsened, last night being the worst. He came in with a broken arm and a mark on his face. After talking with servants in the palace, I have found out something rather disturbing. The nights when the Lord Faramir is hurt are the same nights on which the Lord Denethor our Steward speaks with his sons individually, as tradition requires. The servants were reluctant to tell me this, but they too are worried about our little lord. They tell me that many times Lord Faramir has left his father's study with the injuries I have treated.

            I plead with you now, Prince Imrahil, to do something about this atrocity. I risk much by telling you these things, yet my love for the young lord overcomes all concerns for myself. I fear for Lord Faramir's health and well being. I fear for his life. Please help him before it is too late! You are his only hope.

With all honor and respect,

Healer Iorwyn daughter of Magni and Ioreth

Prince Imrahil sat back in his chair, rereading the letter again to make sure he wasn't seeing things. He ran a hand through his dark hair. Why would this woman say such things? They couldn't possibly be true. Denethor wasn't a very kind man, but he wasn't a monster. Yet something about the letter rang true.

He was so preoccupied by the message that he didn't hear his wife enter. "What is it that disturbs you so, my love?" Imrahil jumped at Freyaniel's voice. Instead of saying anything, he handed her the letter. As she read, he continued to think. Looking up from the letter, Freyaniel met his sea-gray eyes. She walked over to stand beside him, her soft, brown eyes saddened by what she had read. "Imrahil, you must do something about this."

"But what if this healer lies? I cannot take such a serious accusation on the word of one I don't know."

"No one needs to know about the letter. Ride to Minas Tirith under the guise of seeing your nephews. Then just find out if her accusations are true. If they aren't, say nothing and enjoy your trip. And if they are true, well, do what you must in order to protect Faramir. That is all I ask of you." Imrahil nodded, seeing the wisdom in which his wife spoke.

"Very well, in six weeks I will go to Minas Tirith. I pray that nothing comes of this trip."

~*~

Faramir collapsed onto his bed. His arm was still healing, seven and a half weeks after it was broken. Boromir had been worried about him and doted on his little brother. With his arm useless, Faramir hadn't been able to practice with his sword, something he found ironic since his arm was broken because he wouldn't practice. Unfortunately he couldn't do anything else since reading was banned. Luckily Boromir understood and they played many games that didn't require the use of both arms. Yet even that could not lift Faramir's spirits, for Denethor's tongue had been especially harsh recently. Faramir reflected on what had happened at dinner.

            ***

            ". . .And Faramir and I played this strategy game called Ungoliant's Web. That was fun, although Faramir is much better at it than I am." Boromir was telling Denethor about their day and trying to put Faramir in a good light, but the Steward would not be moved.

"So instead of working with Athorin at the sword, you stayed inside playing silly games with your brother?"

"Father, It's not a silly game. Faramir was telling me how it was used by the Numenoreans to train their children in different battle. . ."

"I care not. Faramir, you should know better then to distract your brother like that. As the heir to the Stewardship he must learn how to use a sword, not play games. If you don't care enough about Gondor to put aside your petty jealousies against Boromir's skills, then you are more senseless then I thought." Faramir lowered his head to hide tears. Crying would just make things worse. "This is unsuitable behavior for a Lord of Gondor. Go to your room and no more of this foolishness." Nodding glumly, Faramir left.

Boromir was angry. "Father it is not fair to say that! Faramir didn't do anything. He even told me to go drill, but I didn't want him to be lonely. You shouldn't talk like that." He got up from his seat and left to follow his brother. Denethor was furious. Not only had his youngest son stolen his wife's love, he was now stealing Boromir away. With each thought, he fell more and more to the darkness.

***

Boromir found his brother sitting on his balcony, staring at the stars. "Faramir, I'm sorry to have gotten you in trouble."

"It's alright. No matter what you say he will always think I do everything wrong."

"He shouldn't. You are a great brother and a great son, but he doesn't see it."

Faramir looked up at his brother. He knew that Boromir was trying to cheer him up, but there was nothing that could lift his spirits. "Brother, thank you for sticking up for me. You are my best friend, do you know that?"

Boromir sat down next to Faramir and put his arm around him. "Little brother, you are my best friend too. We are best friends forever right?"

 Faramir smiled. "Right."

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A/N: I made up Imrahil's wife's name because I couldn't find it anywhere. Please keep reviewing!!!!!