The Black Breath, the effect of such a wound as Faramir was stricken by, has the power to induce not only a state of comatose, but despondency also, and it brings the victim nightmares in their unconsciousness. As Faramir was borne through the streets of Minas Tirith by his kinsman, Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, he thought he heard men shouting his name.

His brother's image came to him, smiling and proud. Denethor had just named Boromir an official captain of Gondor and Boromir had come to show off his new sword, the hilt inscribed with his new title. Boromir had already collected to him as many swords and fine pieces of armor as Faramir had books stacked and strewn here and there about his chambers. The younger brother was pleased for the elder, but not terribly impressed.

"Faramir! Faramir! Where have you been, sitting here all along? Why were you not in the hall this afternoon?"

"This afternoon?" asked Faramir, feigning rather poorly. "Was today your ceremony? I'm sorry, Bor', i completely forgot. You have my congratulations though."

"Thanks, but you did not forget. Far'. Your still trying to avoid father, have you even eaten these last two nights?"

"Don't worry about me, brother. I may not have dined with you, but i have dined well enough."

"Tell me not that you have taken to dining with the soldiers?"

"The last two nights i have. What matter is it?"

"You can't dine with soldiers! You are the steward's son."

"You be his son. He looks on me as one of the soldiers, so why should i not dine with them? Besides, they take heart of the company of their captain."

Boromir rolled his eyes and sat down beside his brother on the bed. "Faramir, i do not know why father reacts to you as he does, but if you would only try -"

"I have tried all i can, Boromir. I have tried to be like you, but it is never enough for him. I can not take joy in causing someone's death in battle."

"But they are our enemies, Faramir. Surely you would not join them!"

"No, Gondor is my home and i would defend it with my life, you know that. But, Boromir, did you never look at a man whom your blow has killed and wonder if he did not have a brother and father who would miss him with a terrible grief? We are not all so different, them and us."

Boromir's expression made it obvious he had no idea what his little brother was talking about.

"Never mind, big brother," Faramir said, clapping his brother's shoulder. "My congratulations on the new weapon, you have earned it."

---

That night Faramir decided to make his way to the hall and dine with his brother. He had to mentally leave his father out of the picture, he was doing this for Boromir because he greatly loved his brother and admired him, and he knew that Boromir loved him too. Faramir decided if he couldn't have his father's love, at least there was his brother.

Faramir stopped just outside the hall, he saw down another corridor a stray cat that had been hanging around the Citadel. Faramir picked it up and petted it behind its scraggly ears, its old grey fur shedding easily. Faramir made up his mind that this aged animal should have a comfortable place to sleep for what were probably its last few days. He turned to take it back to his chamber, hoping he could keep this his secret as long as necessary, Denethor would have been livid at the very idea of his gentle son giving aid to a dying creature.

All these things had indeed happened one day some twenty years ago. Faramir relived this in his own mind as Imrahil slowly made his way up toward the Citadel. But then the vision turned and something happened that had not on that night. Faramir was stopped still as he turned back toward his chamber.

"Faramir?!" It was Denethor's voice from within the hall; Faramir froze in dread. "What care i if he has dined with the soldiers? I have dined peacefully without anyone turning up ungratefully late!" Faramir relaxed slightly. His father had not seen him.

"Father, Faramir loves you no matter what you think of him. He loves us, but you make him afraid to even dine with us."

Faramir felt slightly vindicated hearing his big brother defend him. Denethor's forthcoming words crushed that feeling though. "Afraid! That is just it. Faramir is a weakling, Boromir, and a man must not be gentle in this world if he is to be of power. As far as anyone knows, Faramir was born to a share in all the power that you claim, but he is not worthy of it. No, i care not if he dines with the soldiers, he has never shown himself worthy to dine in the Citadel. It is better to me thus, at least in this way i do not have to pretend or give him what is not his due."

Boromir might not have shared the insights and wisdom of Faramir, nor the wealth knowledge Faramir had learned in all the old texts, but he was not a fool by any measure. Boromir knew he was picking up on something terrible and life-changing and he hesitated long before speaking again.

In Boromir's hesitation, Faramir felt pulled in two. One side of him stood in the corridor listening hopefully for his brother to defend him again. The other side, seeming to watch the former side from above, he felt detached and knew that this dream was induced by the fell wound he received; but also that he was being shown what had transpired that long ago night after he had gone to make a comfortable place for the old cat.

Finally Boromir's voice was heard, low and cautious. "What do you mean, 'As far as anyone knows,' father?"

Next was Denethor's voice, much darker and more fey than Faramir had ever before heard him. "I mean, young Boromir, that you and you alone are my son."

"Father! How can you say such a thing? How can you disown Faramir like that?" Boromir uttered with difficulty, shocked at his father's tone.

"I never owned him in the first place! He is not mine and never was." Denethor struggled to keep his ire in control so that no others heard his words, but Faramir heard them all too clearly.

"Father!" shouted Boromir.

"Keep your tone low!" Denethor hissed. "For the last 11 years i have kept this knowledge as mine alone. Your mother thought she took her secret to her grave, but i have known it all along."

"H-how could you ever-"

"You will not like this learning, Boromir, but your half-brother is the son of a ranger who served Ecthelion. Treat that as you will, but i suppose it is time you learned of your mother's failing anyway. That is the reason she died when you were a boy; guilt killed her, not this 'homesickness' as those healers deemed it. She could not look at Faramir without being reminded of her offense. And nor can i look at him without being reminded of the same."