*runs away from a group of fans brandishing torches to save Faramir* lol

Boromir would never have been able to find Faramir in the dark, even if Faramir wanted to be found. I imagine the Pelennor to be huge; after all, there's a massive battle fought there! Anyway, Faramir won't be captured by Orcs or anything like that; the scouting reports received by Denethor that no threats were nearby were, indeed, accurate.

As far as an Aragorn cameo, that's an idea I've actually been thinking about for awhile. Yes, I'm aware of the fact that he'd be pretty old, although due to his bloodline, he wouldn't look very old... Still debating whether or not to add him.

This chapter is not happy, but eventually it will be better.

One more thing: I know Faramir is supposed to be the pupil of Mithrandir, but I probably won't have that happen until Faramir is older.



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If Boromir never again saw the furious expression wrought upon Denethor's face, he felt it would be too soon. The boy had seen the Steward angered before, not the least after one of his forbidden expeditions outside the city wall, but now his father was beside himself.

"I asked for the two of you to stay together, while outside the walls," Denethor began, his voice shaking in his fury. "Is that really such a difficult thing to ask? And now, you return to me, bearing Faramir's bow, and state that you have simply LOST him? Is that it?"

The words were bitter. Boromir felt as though he were begin pierced by a knife, but he knew better than to remain silent. "That's it," he muttered, unable to look his father in the eye. "I'm sorry."

Denethor stood up quickly, and murmured a few words of apology to the King of Rohan, still seated next to him. Then, he strode down the hall, towards Boromir, still wearing his infuriated expression upon his face. The Steward raised his hand suddenly as he approached, and for a fleeting moment, Boromir was afraid his father would strike him. Instead, Denethor grabbed the back of his son's shirt, ignoring the fact that the boy's cloak was gone, and dragged him outside.

Here he halted for a moment, though he did not release his grip. "Where did you last see your brother?" the Steward asked in a low, but dangerous voice.

Boromir pointed in the general direction in which he had come, though in truth he had no idea if Faramir was even close to the city anymore.

"Very well then," replied Denethor, taking note of the direction in which his son pointed. "I will go out there, aided by some others, and we will find your brother. DO NOT leave the area around the tower! When I return, and there is sufficient time, you will be summoned. Don't think that I am finished with you, Boromir!" The Steward released his grip on the boy, and stormed off towards the quarters where many of the city guards relaxed while off duty.

Boromir remained standing where he was as his father left. The night was settling around the city of Minas Tirith, but very few stars were visible yet in the darkening sky. Though it was summer, sheer unhappiness sent chills through the boy's body.

"Where are you, Faramir?" he whispered towards one of the stars he saw in the night sky. "What have I done? Father is furious, yet that will eventually pass. But will you ever forgive me?"

There was only silence.

Suddenly, the boy's upward glance fell upon the great white tower, which he had climbed many times before, in both happiness and dispair. Boromir sighed, knowing it was a very long way up winding steps, but he could not bring himself to go back inside, not while Faramir still wandered around on his own in the night. He made up his mind to climb to the top.


********

Faramir remained curled up on the ground. He felt as though the entire world had simply abandoned him, to face the vast, emptiness of the land alone. His cloak was wrapped tightly around his body, though he was beginning to feel the chill of the night air settle upon him. It was quite dark, and few stars were visible in the sky.

The young boy eventually sat up, shaking. He did not like the idea of wandering around in the black night air, but he thought a short walk might relieve him of a little sorrow, and perhaps bring him again within sight of Minas Tirith. Faramir got to his feet, rewrapped his cloak around himself, and, with a heavy heart, plodded through the grass. His sad eyes drifted across the plains, yet, he saw nothing. There was no sign of the white city, or even the great tower.

"Where am I?" Faramir cried out in his frustration. "I can hardly see anything; it's so dark. I must not be near the city, where there are always lights shining!" His shoulders slumped in weariness; yet he found himself unable to fall back towards the grass. Instead, Faramir continued walking, as the wide grass plains grew more and more unfriendly to the eye.

A hour slowly crept by. Faramir now stumbled constantly as he wandered, for the combination of exhaustion and unhappiness was slowly sapping away at his strength. In his mind, he felt as though there was no hope left in the world as thoughts of dispair washed over him like waves upon the ocean. He was completely lost. His prize bow was no longer in his pocession. His father was most likely somewhere deep within the city. Boromir hated him.

This last thought was easily the most painful of all, for it brought immediate tears to Faramir's eyes, and seemed to drain the last remnants of mirth from his inconsolable heart.



********


Denethor had gathered together around a dozen of the off-duty tower guards, all bearing brightly lit torches. Now he stood with them, in the Pelennor directly in front of the first city gate, attempting to pierce the dark air with his keen gaze. He soon realized that even the burning torches and faint light of a few stars would not be enough to help him find his younger son, and instead, he began to divide up his men.

"Search the entire area if you must, in every hollow, and under every blade of grass. We must seek out Faramir and find him!"

The Steward's men all nodded in agreement, then spread out swiftly across the plains. Denethor watched them go, then quickly went off into the darkness.


********

Faramir suddenly heard a heavy sound in the grass. He temporarily forgot his dispair, and turned in surprise. The boy had not expected anyone else to be wandering around during the night.

Thoughts raced through his head. Perhaps....perhaps the feet that approached were not friendly. Though he knew no Orcs had been spotted in the area for a long while, fear took over his mind. Faramir had visions of a vile creature pursuing him through the grass, as he attempted to flee.

Fortunately, Faramir soon noticed that the footsteps were those of a tall man, bearing a torch. A familiar man. He gasped in surprise.

"Daddy!" he sobbed.

Denethor heard the sound of the voice, and held out his torch in the direction from whence it came. "Faramir?" he shouted in reply.

"Daddy!"

The Steward saw the small shape of his son run towards him, stumbling often in the grass. Then, suddenly, Faramir collapsed a few feet in front of him, crying in exhaustion.

Denethor ran to him. He reached the fallen boy, and carefully scooped him out of the grass. Faramir continued to sob.
"Faramir, it is all right now," whispered Denethor, hugging his younger son. "You have been lost, but now you are safe, and will soon be home. There, you may sleep in your own bed once again." He paused for a moment, but soon realized that Faramir's sobs did not appear to lessen. "What ails you, my son," he asked, fairly concerned. "You are now safe, yet your unhappiness shines clear through."

Faramir became quiet for a moment, before speaking. "Daddy?" he asked in a small, tearful voice, barely above a whisper. "Do you love me?"

This was probably the last thing the Steward expected to hear from his son. "Of course," he replied, startled at first, though soon his voice returned to its usual firmness. "Even if you do foolish things in your life, you will always have my love. Why do you ask such things?"

Faramir did not answer at first. Then, tears spilled once again from his eyes as a few soft words emitted from his mouth.

"Because Boromir does not."