A/n: aha!! I have overcome the system, er, writer's block!! Sorry if this chapter is not the best (tell me, do I need to stop apologizing?).I mean, seriously, there is like nothing two year olds do!! Ai! Yeah, so it skips a little. But hopefully now I will post more chapters in quicker succession!! So, without further ado.!

Chapter 3: Innocence of Youth

Denethor looked down exasperatedly as his youngest tugged softly at his sleeve.

"What is it now, Faramir?" he asked with impatience.

"Play?" the two-year-old asked expectantly.

"No," Denethor nearly growled, frustrated because he had been interrupted for such a seemingly trivial inquiry.

Faramir's lip trembled slightly; he did not understand what he had done to make his father angry. He stared wide-eyed at the harsh Steward of Gondor.

"P'ease?" Faramir tried once more, this time a bit uncertainly, but with his young heart hopeful.

"For the last time, no!" Denethor responded, irritated by the constant repertoire of questions and requests which seemed to issue from the toddler's mouth.

Even Faramir's dense two-year-old mind did not need to be told again. He teetered from the room as fast as his small legs would allow.

* * * * * *

*3 years later*

Faramir turned a corner only to quickly retreat back to where he had been coming from. Please, don't let him see me, he pleaded silently.

However, luck did not seem to be on good terms with Faramir at that moment.

"What are you doing here?" Denethor barked.

Faramir couldn't think of a reply which would satisfy his father, so he said simply, "Nothing."

Denethor looked for a moment like he was going to become angry, but then decided it was not worth it at the moment.

Before his father had the chance to change his mind, Faramir hurried off in the opposite direction of his father.

* * *

"Why does father hate me?" Faramir wondered aloud. He was five now and his father had disliked him for as long as his young mind could remember.

"I don't think he hates you." Boromir seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. Faramir looked skeptical.

"Yes he does," the stubborn little boy insisted. "He always yells at me."

Boromir looked thoughtful. Incapable of being able to explain that one, he decided to change the subject. "Do you know what?"

"What?"

"I think it is almost time for supper."

Faramir frowned at this, which confused his brother, who could not fathom any reason why anyone would frown at the prospect of a regular meal.

"Boromir?" Faramir's voice was quiet and uncertain.

"Yes?" Boromir turned around, having been headed for the door.

"Did I kill mama?" Faramir's grey eyes shone dejectedly.

"No! Of course not," Boromir answered incredulously. "Who told you that?"

Faramir gave no response.

"No, you didn't kill her. Don't you ever believe that you did," Boromir reinforced.

"Okay." Faramir finally acknowledged, still not quite sure whether what his brother said was true or not. The thought tormented his five-year-old mind.

"Come now. We don't want to be late."

Faramir seemed to consider resisting further, but at last followed his older brother reluctantly out the door.

To my beloved reviewers:

RiverRatRogue - forgive me? Lol, I'm glad you like my story so much though! Dollyrocker - yeah I know she didn't die at childbirth, but after thinking long and hard about the plot of this story I decided, screw appendix A, it will work better if I change the storyline a little bit. And the language part, I'm not Tolkien, so I can't really imitate his language dialect one hundred percent, but I'll try. Also, there don't seem to be many five-year- old's in Tolkien's books. Everyone else - I love you! Keep reviewing.