A/n: First, thank you to my reviewers! All hail thee. ( Secondly, someone
said something about Denethor actually seeming human. Lol, well don't
worry, that will change, somewhat, in later chapters ;-) *grins evilly* or
at least, well, you'll see. Hey look! The star of the story is actually in
this chapter! Yay! Oops, I just ruined it. Oh well. Sorry if this chapter
is corny *frowns at self*, but hey, I'm entitled to at east one icky gross
corny chapter right??
3rd, I'm soooooooo sorry this took so long to actually post. I was
contemplating redoing this chapter, but didn't feel like it, lol. It's
kinda, well just read. It's also short.
***********************************************************************
Chapter Two: You Are Faramir
"Daddy, do I have a baby brother NOW?" five-year-old Boromir asked innocently. Denethor looked at his son, smiling sadly.
"Yes, you do," he replied, fresh tears threatening to escape his eyes.
"What is wrong, Daddy?"
Denethor knelt down and scooped the young boy into his arms. He began walking.
"Your mother is dead." Denethor whispered into his son's ear.
"But, Daddy, mommy can't be dead." the child looked up at his father, tears welling in his eyes. A single tear fell down Denethor's face.
"Noooo!" Boromir screamed, his tears beginning to cascade down his cheeks. Denethor pulled his son's head to his shoulder, stroking the boy's dark golden hair.
"Shh, I know, my child. I know," he murmured softly.
Denethor sat on his son's bed, rocking him gently, his chin resting on the boy's hair. After several long moments, Boromir had finally fallen asleep. Denethor carefully laid him on the bed, so as not to wake the child, and pulled the blankets over him. Denethor stared blankly ahead. Finally, someone quietly pushed the door open.
"My lord?" a young nurse whispered. "Wouldn't you like too see your son?" Denethor nodded, despite himself. The woman brought the small bundle over to him. Denethor cradled the baby in his arms, and looked down at him. The child had keen grey eyes and light brown fluff for hair. Denethor could only stare. He did not smile, he did not frown, he made no sign of his emotion for a long while. Denethor narrowed his eyes at the baby, unable to help but think that the child had killed his wife. As if sensing the dislike in the man's eyes, the baby whimpered.
"You should be asleep, young one," Denethor told the baby.
"Can I hold him, daddy?" a curious voice asked from the bed. Denethor looked to his elder son and smiled.
"Not yet my son," he answered.
"But, I wanna see!" Boromir pouted. Denethor chuckled softly.
"Did I say you couldn't see?" He motioned for his son to come sit nearer, where he could see.
The five year old peered in wonder at the small child nestled in his father's arms.
"You are Faramir," he told the newborn, pointing. His father had told him what the child's name would be months before; he had been dying to know. Little Faramir grabbed Boromir's finger and wrapped his own tiny pink fingers around it.
"Hey!" Boromir said, somewhat indignantly, but his eyes sparkled. Faramir looked up at him, wide-eyed, but did not cry. Boromir looked up at his father, smiling.
"I think he likes me okay," he told Denethor.
"Perhaps he does," Denethor replied. "But, I think it is now past time for you to go to sleep. Both of you," he added, rising to leave.
Boromir tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn. "Okay, Daddy, but I'm not tired."
"Of course not."
***********************************************************************
Chapter Two: You Are Faramir
"Daddy, do I have a baby brother NOW?" five-year-old Boromir asked innocently. Denethor looked at his son, smiling sadly.
"Yes, you do," he replied, fresh tears threatening to escape his eyes.
"What is wrong, Daddy?"
Denethor knelt down and scooped the young boy into his arms. He began walking.
"Your mother is dead." Denethor whispered into his son's ear.
"But, Daddy, mommy can't be dead." the child looked up at his father, tears welling in his eyes. A single tear fell down Denethor's face.
"Noooo!" Boromir screamed, his tears beginning to cascade down his cheeks. Denethor pulled his son's head to his shoulder, stroking the boy's dark golden hair.
"Shh, I know, my child. I know," he murmured softly.
Denethor sat on his son's bed, rocking him gently, his chin resting on the boy's hair. After several long moments, Boromir had finally fallen asleep. Denethor carefully laid him on the bed, so as not to wake the child, and pulled the blankets over him. Denethor stared blankly ahead. Finally, someone quietly pushed the door open.
"My lord?" a young nurse whispered. "Wouldn't you like too see your son?" Denethor nodded, despite himself. The woman brought the small bundle over to him. Denethor cradled the baby in his arms, and looked down at him. The child had keen grey eyes and light brown fluff for hair. Denethor could only stare. He did not smile, he did not frown, he made no sign of his emotion for a long while. Denethor narrowed his eyes at the baby, unable to help but think that the child had killed his wife. As if sensing the dislike in the man's eyes, the baby whimpered.
"You should be asleep, young one," Denethor told the baby.
"Can I hold him, daddy?" a curious voice asked from the bed. Denethor looked to his elder son and smiled.
"Not yet my son," he answered.
"But, I wanna see!" Boromir pouted. Denethor chuckled softly.
"Did I say you couldn't see?" He motioned for his son to come sit nearer, where he could see.
The five year old peered in wonder at the small child nestled in his father's arms.
"You are Faramir," he told the newborn, pointing. His father had told him what the child's name would be months before; he had been dying to know. Little Faramir grabbed Boromir's finger and wrapped his own tiny pink fingers around it.
"Hey!" Boromir said, somewhat indignantly, but his eyes sparkled. Faramir looked up at him, wide-eyed, but did not cry. Boromir looked up at his father, smiling.
"I think he likes me okay," he told Denethor.
"Perhaps he does," Denethor replied. "But, I think it is now past time for you to go to sleep. Both of you," he added, rising to leave.
Boromir tried unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn. "Okay, Daddy, but I'm not tired."
"Of course not."
