REASONS - Chapter 5 - Brotherly Love. (In which Boromir kicks ass........)
"He's the best baby ever," said Boromir, as he gazed in awe at his new brother. Finduilas laughed and hugged her eldest tightly.
"Not quite," she said, "but equal best!"
Faramir, aged two hours, watched the scene with huge deep blue eyes that already seemed to know far too much, and though doubtless the result of his first feed, he "smiled", much to Boromir's delight.
"He likes me, Mama!"
"Of course he does, my darling," replied his doting mother. "How could he not?"
"He is the best baby ever," said Boromir, "and I will be the best big brother ever."
Boromir was true to his word, and when their precious mother died five years later, he hid his own grief whilst he comforted his little brother, although even at such a tender age, Faramir was astute.
"I won't be upset if you cry too," he sobbed, as Boromir held him, and the two of them clung to each other and wept, as Denethor watched unseen, too grief-stricken himself to comfort his children.
Boromir missed his mother so much, there was always a physical pain in his heart that only eased when he was with Faramir, for he had appointed himself his brother's friend and protector, and he concentrated all his thoughts and energy into trying to ensure that the child was content and well.
It was a responsibility that should not have fallen to the ten-year- old, and he tried not only to satisfy his young brother's emotional needs but Denethor's also, as the Steward began to focus more and more attention on his eldest, grooming him for army life and the future Stewardship. For Faramir he had little time – as a five-year-old the child was too young for the only things that Denethor understood, and by the time he was older any bond that might have existed had been broken. Occasionally, due to a pang of conscience, or a brief revival of fatherly affection, Denethor would attempt to interact with his youngest son, but Faramir was shy, and even nervous of the stern man who towered over him like a giant, and he would seek Boromir's hand, whilst studying his father through those same discerning eyes which had always, for some reason, unsettled Denethor.
As Boromir grew older, so his father's needs became greater. Denethor was obsessed with his son and heir, and Boromir unwittingly fuelled that obsession by striving to be everything his father wanted, whereas Faramir, who had his mother's gentle disposition, wanted only to learn, and had no interest in wars and battles, lest they were in a history book.
For Boromir's 16th birthday, his father planned a hunting trip for just the two of them. Denethor was like a child, anticipating the time they would spend together, not just as father and son, but as friends. Unfortunately, on the eve of the trip, Faramir fell ill with influenza, and Boromir refused to leave him.
"He will be all right with Ioreth!" Denethor's disappointment turned to selfish pique, but Boromir bravely defied him.
"Father, how can we leave him when he is so ill and needs us?"
And when Faramir's illness did indeed take a turn for the worse, Denethor did not become the caring father, but resented it even more that Boromir's concern and attention was for his brother, and when Finduilas' brother Imrahil offered to take Faramir to Dol Amroth, it did not go unnoticed by those more discerning, that the Steward's enthusiasm was as much for Faramir's absence as it was for his convalescence. Denethor believed that without Faramir to distract him, Boromir's attention would be for his father alone, but in the event, it did not turn out as the Steward hoped, for Boromir missed his little brother greatly. After six years, it was difficult to abandon, even temporarily, the mantle of responsibility he had assumed, and which was both fraternal and paternal, for it did not escape his notice that Denethor reserved any fatherly characteristics for his firstborn.
Faramir's resilience to his father's neglect amazed Boromir. For one so young, he was remarkably philosophical, and would frequently shrug off his disappointments with the words, "It'll be different when I'm bigger," and he would happily continue reading a book, or painting a picture, whilst his father would take Boromir on a hunting or fishing trip, or to visit an army post. On one occasion as Denethor and Boromir were about to leave, Faramir decided he was bored with staying home alone.
"Can I come?" he asked eagerly.
Boromir's face registered a smile, and he looked at the Steward.
"Let him, Father."
"You're too young Faramir," said Denethor abruptly, and Faramir's face fell. As he watched his father and brother ride out of Minas Tirith, a sadness swept over him, and he realised that it was nothing to do with his age or size, for Boromir had been taken on trips since he was younger than Faramir's 13 years. For the first time in his life, which had until then known only the innocence of childlike love and trust, Faramir felt second best.
The fact that Faramir seemed the total opposite to his precious firstborn, only seemed to aggravate Denethor more, and he perceived differences as weaknesses.
Faramir, though not a sickly child, was more prone to infection, whereas Boromir was robust and hale.
Faramir's frame was slighter, and next to his brother, he appeared to Denethor to be fragile.
Whereas Boromir was enthralled by tales of battles, and looked forward to experiencing them first-hand, Faramir cared not for the spilling of blood whether in war or the hunt. His mind was set on learning whatever, whenever, and wherever he could. If only Denethor had been less critical, he would have realised that there was so much more to his son than a kind and gentle heart. He possessed a shrewdness that would prove invaluable to any soldier, combined with a quick and logical brain which could adapt to any situation instantly, but Denethor had no such perception of his youngest child, and Faramir was unwittingly embroiled in a fight he could not win. As his relationship with Boromir grew stronger, his father grew more and more resentful, not realising that by his own actions did he draw the brothers even closer, if that was in fact possible, for Boromir constantly tried to make amends for the lack of parental affection in his brother's life, and this in turn, hardened the Steward's heart further.
Watching Denethor play with one of the hounds on a rare break from civic duty, Boromir was unable to remain silent when the Steward, noticing his son's unfavourable stare, asked him what was wrong.
"Well Father," Boromir replied. "I was wondering if Faramir should take to fetching sticks, you might treat him with similar affection."
It was a long time since anyone had spoken thus to Denethor, but Boromir was unable to hold his thoughts in check any longer. His father was immediately defensive, his sub-conscious refusing to acknowledge Boromir's statement as justified.
"You do that child no favours," he said. "You encourage no will to stand on his own feet. To whom will he run when you are not here?"
"Whom indeed, Father?" replied Boromir, "Whom indeed?"
So angry was he that he walked away, leaving Denethor not questioning his own conscience, but once more seething with jealousy over Boromir's devotion to his brother.
As they grew to manhood, Denethor expected the brothers to be less dependant on each other, and which indeed they were, but although their lives frequently trod different paths, theirs was a love that would withstand separation and strengthen because of it. When reunited their delight at being together again obliterated everything else, including the presence of their father.
On one such occasion Boromir returned to Minas Tirith to find Faramir in the Houses of Healing, having sustained wounds in a skirmish with orcs which had resulted in the deaths of several Rangers, the attack being sudden and totally unexpected.
Faramir's mood was low, for as Captain he felt responsible, and the loss of men who were not just soldiers, but friends, weighed heavily upon him.
"You cannot let this trouble you," said Boromir. "Grieve, but do not let unjustified guilt burden your heart. Be thankful that you were spared."
"Indeed," came a voice from behind him. "For has not Captain Faramir returned safely, though more than a quarter of his men were lost."
Boromir looked at his father in horror, whilst Faramir showed no reaction, for he now expected nothing less.
"What are you saying?" asked Boromir, still shocked by his father's statement.
Denethor's expression was cold.
"My understanding is that Rangers were left to die by their comrades, who fled."
"That is not true!" Unwell as he felt, Faramir was stirred to react to his father's accusation. "We withdrew yes, and men were lost, but we did not flee in the manner you suggest."
The young Ranger looked directly at his father, as he added in a low voice, "You would have been happier with a massacre." It was a statement, not a question.
"I would have been happier with a display of leadership that may not have been successful, but would have been honourable," Denethor replied.
At this, Boromir looked briefly at his brother and shook his head, before walking outside, not trusting himself at that moment to speak. He was almost immediately joined by his father.
"You see now," said the Steward. "It is as I ever said – Faramir is weak. He has neither the stomach nor the heart for battle."
"He has more heart than you or I could ever hope to match," Boromir replied angrily, "but as always you seek to demean him."
He moved closer to his father, their faces almost touching, and he nodded slowly, realisation dawning.
"Is that your plan Father – to diminish him in my eyes? To convince me that my brother has no worth? Do you feel that by doing so, my love will be for you alone? If so, you are sadly in error, for although I love you dearly, Faramir is the most precious person in my life....I vowed to our mother than I would take care of him, and I will do so until I die – as I have these past twenty years. I love you Father, but right now, I like you not, and I may never forgive you for what you have just done – for the implication that your son – my brother – is a coward, and for all but wishing him dead." He paused before adding emphatically, "I have been silent for too long."
Denethor was in shock as Boromir walked away in disgust, and he realised he had gone too far, and also that he had underestimated the strength of the bond that existed between his children.
He didn't know how he was going to regain the respect and friendship of his eldest son. All he knew was that it was all Faramir's fault.