Chapter One

The small boy lay quivering under his bed, only half of his young face visible beneath the hanging sheets. One side of the dark coloured tunic covered in mud, a gaping rip around his right elbow revealing a large graze. Surely it was punishment enough that he was injured...Wasn't it? Amber hair clung to his cheeks, being held there by the slow drying salt tears. Only just 11, Faramir, youngest son of Denethor II lay hiding from his own father...

"Faramir?" The boy didn't flinch, the voice was gentle...Soft...Comforting

"I'm.." He paused, having to suppress a small sniffle "I'm under here Boromir..." The sheets were lifted up by the elder brother, gently coaxing him out into the small pools of sunlight that invaded the privacy of his own dark quarters.

"Its alright Faramir..." Wrapping his arms around his younger brother in a loving embrace "They found Diago, the stable boy said that it wasn't your fault she bucked, she was jumpy before they let you ride her..." Though he didn't get a verbal response from the boy, only another sniffle, causing him to only become more protective of the younger, rocking him back and forth as he let the boy cry, he himself recalling the days events.

He had watched Faramir mount the chestnut mare, also spotting his father in a nearby window, expecting failure from his youngest son as ever. Though Boromir himself was situated in a small alcove, once upon a time meant for a guard of some sort, though this post had not been manned for as long as he could remember. Faramir had barely left the courtyard before Diago whinned at something, bucking up and sending the boy straight onto his back with a cry of pain, watery blue eyes slammed shut as he listened to the sounds of his beloved horse run down the stairs into the city. Boromir had quickly rushed forward, though their father was ahead of him. Not the caring loving father that would check to see if his youngest was hurt. No, Denethor was seething, his son was nothing but an embarrassment once more. Faramir found himself pulled sharply to his feet and dragged inside the citadel. The eerie silence that befell upon the white yard was more than uncomfortable, even the guards and the stable boys that witnessed this thing on a daily basis were in a momentary silence. Boromir slinked back towards his rooms, rather surprised to hear his fathers voice booming through the palace

"FARAMIR!" What had his poor brother done now? The senior (by 5 years) sighed and slowly started the painstaking task of looking for his brother. Lastly coming to his rooms. And now here they were.

The final thoughts brought a further frown line to Boromirs brow "Faramir..." Pushing a flaming streak of hair from his face "Why was father looking for you? What did you do to upset him further?"

"I..." He sniffled, lowering his head in disgust and shame "He shouted at me...I didn't want to hear his lectures again...And he was going to...So I ran..." Sobs choking in his throat as he trailed off.
"Shh...I'm here..." Sighing, Boromir wrapped his arms around Faramir as he broke down once more, resting his nose in the parting of the boys hair, taking in the scent of innocence and fear. "Look..." He began, rather unsure of what to say..."Why don't.." think Boromir think "You come with me to sword practise...Maybe father will be watching...He has been on occasions...You can show him how good you've gotten and... And I am sure you would impress him"

"I cant..." Cutting the elder off with a sad whisper "He took my sword" After Faramir had reached the stage in training where he knew enough about fighting to keep alive if needed, their father had pulled him from his training, banning him from practising...Just a waste of time Faramir, he had snarled, You will never be soldier...

"Oh...Of course.." The elder stated thoughtfully, indeed...Father had his brothers sword, he remembered seeing it in his study the day after it was confiscated, because Faramir had been caught practising in the forest with it. "I have a spare one...I mean...Its not the best but its rather light..." Squeezing the boy playfully in his strong arms "I'd love for you to practise with me..."

The boy seemed to stop moving for a time before looking up at his senior with an oh so cute smile upon his face "If...If you want me to...Then...I suppose...I will" Boromir just mirrored the younger's smile "Then we shall."

The two brothers, almost arm in arm carefully snuck down the long corridor with baited breath, each silently praying that their father would not storm out of his study and catch the younger. It was Faramir who spoke first once the fresh air hit their faces.

"You...You think I should go...go apologise to him?"

Boromir stopped dead and just stared at his brother "What in heavens name for?"
"Well..." Lowering his eyes to the floor "For everything...For running away...For Diago...For.."
"Being born?" Boromir arched a brow in amusement folding his arms across his chest, teasing the pre-teen, whom just blushed furiously, mumbling something inaudible, the elder just laughed quietly. Though inside, Boromir was far from laughing, in fact he was close to cursing allowed. He hated the fact that Faramir felt the need to apologise for all and every single one of their fathers temper tantrums, which usually ended up with the boy unable to walk for a day or so, with this thought Boromir let out an audible sigh

"What's wrong?" The younger quizzed, a rare smile on his face, breaking Boromir from his day dream

"I..." Blinking himself back to reality and passing Faramir the spare blade "Was wondering how long I was going to have to wait to beat you..."
"Oh really?" Pushing a few strands of hair from his face and taking up his position, soon the air of the courtyard was filled with the sounds of boisterous laughter and the clinking of blades.

"Ah ha...Got you!" Boromir smirked and placed the tip of the sword in the gravel, watching his younger brother pout and rub the spot on his arm gingerly.

""Not fair..." Speaking in a small brattish voice that every child seemed to have perfected, though it was short lived as his face dropped, staring straight through his brother

"He's...He's at the window..."

"I know..." Boromir could feel the steely gaze boring into his back, quickly noticing the change in Faramir's position, quickly having to dodge a blow as the younger brother set into action, pulling every move he had ever been taught into his mind, to try and impress their father. Boromir was soon out of breath, truly shocked by the force behind the smaller fighter in front of him, soon finding himself backed against the wall with the cold taste of steal against his neck, though Faramir wasn't watching the elder, his eyes looking to the now empty window in confusion...disappointment...loss...

"Sorry..." Slowly lowering the blade, looking up at his shocked brother who just nodded and ruffled his hair

"You've gotten better..."

"FARAMIR!" Both boys jumped, though Faramirs feet never returned to the floor as he found himself dragged back, and staring up at the fuming parent, Denethors cheeks reddened from either the quick run down to the courtyard or just pure anger, it was hard to tell.

"WHAT DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?" The father boomed down at the boy.

"I...I wouldn't have hurt him...." He began, his voice barely more than a whisper, large blue eyes laced with tears. Boromir just watched in dismay as his father continued with the verbal bombardment of his younger brother. Unfortunately, for most involved, Denethor's voice carried rather a long way, causing a small crowd to gather, adding to poor Faramir's humiliation.

"YOU SHOULDN'T EVEN HAVE BEEN PRACTISING, NOT ONLY DO I HAVE A COWARD FOR A SON.." Words cut short by the distinctive sound of flesh upon flesh, the slap echoing around the filling courtyard as Faramir fell to the ground, his cheek burning a bright red, along with a small trail of crimson that fell from his newly split lip. Still Denethor continued with no signs of stopping. "BUT NOW YOU BLANTENTLY DISOBAY ME FURTHER BY DARING TO LEAVE YOUR QUARTERS" Each word cutting through the child like a knife, tears falling accompanying the unstoppable whimpers, crimson and salt mixing as one as they fell to the pure white stones of the citadel courtyard, marring them with the blood of the innocent child.

"My Lord Denethor..." The scene froze as if it were a painting, the youngest child curled up with his arms protectively around his head as if to shut away the light, the life that he was forced to live. The elder son's nails digging into the white stone of the wall behind him, for fear of moving to get Faramir in further trouble, his face contorted in a visible grimace, contrary to their fathers position. A single hand raised, ready to strike the boy once more, stopped sharply but an inch from the precious flesh. All eyes seemed to have shot to the messenger who tried not to look too startled at the scene before him.

"My.." Taking a moment to find his voice "My Lord Denethor I bring news fro Osgiliath..." No more was needed as the steward straightened to standing, nothing but a quiet growl escaping him.

"This will not go unpunished boy, mark my words."