Chapter 4: Questions

Faramir sat on a bench outside of the steward's mansion overlooking the city of Gondor. Though his wounds from the battle with the orcs were healing, he was now fighting an internal battle. A battle within his mind:

If I brought Father the Ring of Power, maybe then he would finally be pleased with me and I could be proud in his sight. Yet I promised the hobbits that I would let them go on their way. It was, however, their decision to come to Gondor. Not that I blame them though, the one would not still be alive had they stayed out in the wilderness, he is close to death even now. I should give them safe passage from Gondor and let the Ring remain unknown to Lord Denethor.

Faramir paused for a moment, then concluded the debate that raged between his thoughts:

Perhaps I should let the hobbits go, but I cannot. I cannot let the Ring of Power slip from my grasp. I finally have the perfect opportunity to prove myself to my Father. I could do something right for once, something that even his beloved Boromir did not accomplish. I cannot pass up the chance to earn his love…

Frodo never left Sam's bedside, he remained there beside his dear friend hoping that he would awaken. Eowyn came in every now and then to check on the two hobbits and offer Frodo some food and water, but he refused. He had no appetite; in fact, food was the farthest thing from his mind at the moment, which was truly strange for a hobbit. All he could think about was Samwise, the Ring, and how he was going to finish the Quest.

"Frodo Baggins." A stern voice called into the half-lit room that Sam lay in.

Frodo spun around to see the Steward of Gondor beckoning him. "Yes?" Frodo's voiced shook with the uncertainty of the events that were upon him. Sam's health was weighing heavy on his mind, but now his thoughts jumped back to the Ring.

The voice continued, "I need to speak with you, Mr. Baggins. Come this way." Denethor commanded, his voice boomed in Frodo's ears. Silently, Frodo took one last hopeful glance at his beloved Sam and willingly obeyed the Steward.

"In here." Denethor's voice echoed across the empty corridor as he ushered Frodo into a small brick room across the hall from where Sam lay. Frodo's heart raced uncontrollably as he feared what Faramir had told the evil steward about the gold Ring he carried.

"Tell me," Denethor began, "Where are you from?"

Frodo had to force himself to respond to the steward's questioning, "Th…the Shire." He replied.

"Why are you here?" Denethor demanded.

Frodo searched for something to say. "Because my friend, Samwise Gamgee, is injured." He explained. It was the truth, yet he was dreading the next words to come out of the steward's mouth for fear that he would ask something about the Ring that was concealed under his weathered shirt. Frodo waited for what seemed like hours for Denethor's next question.

"What do you know?" the steward paused for a moment before finishing his question. "What do you know of my son, Boromir?" he asked.

"Boromir?" Frodo was surprised at the question, and while he was relieved that he was not forced to talk about the One Ring, he was not sure what to say to the grieving father.

"I learned from Faramir that he is dead." Frodo admitted.

"Go on. How did you know him?" Denethor questioned.

"He was my companion from Rivendell. Sam and I left the company of Boromir and five others at the river just past the Argonath. I do not know what happened to them after that point." Frodo replied.

"I see," said the grief-stricken father. He rested his face in his hand as he leaned back in his chair. "Very well then. You may return to your friend, Mr. Baggins." Denethor said as he rose from the chair and disappeared back down the long hallway.

Frodo breathed a long sigh of relief and quickly walked back to Sam's room. He opened the door to find Eowyn at Sam's bedside.

She quietly spoke to the unconscious hobbit. "Frodo needs you. You are his very best friend in the whole world. You have to hang on, don't give up." She gently stroked his hand as she continued. "You can get better. I know you can. You're strong. Please, Sam. Just hold on."

Frodo stood speechless as he listened to Eowyn plead with Sam to keep fighting for his life. He was encouraged to know that someone else cared about his friend, whom he loved dearly. He edged forward towards Sam until he caught Eowyn's misty eyes.

"Is everything alright, Frodo?" Eowyn asked. "What did Lord Denethor want?"

"Just to know about Boromir," he replied frankly.

"Oh, I see." Eowyn sounded relieved.

There was a moment of awkward silence and then Frodo finally asked Eowyn something he had been longing to know. "Do you know anything of whether Faramir plans to tell father about the Ring?"

Eowyn nodded. "I spoke with him earlier and pleaded with him not to tell his father of the Ring. Denethor never was a man of strong character, and now that he has learned of Boromir's death, he is not stable. But Faramir had almost decided to tell him anyway, in hopes that the steward would finally accept him as his son. His father has always shown favoritism to Boromir over Faramir, but ever since Boromir's death it seems that he despises Faramir. As if he would give anything if he had died in Boromir's place. Poor Faramir longs to please his father, to "earn his love" he told me, but decided that he could not break his promise to you, even if it cost him his life."

Frodo stood and listened in amazement as Eowyn told him of Faramir's decision. He was truly grateful for Faramir's sacrifice and felt sorry for him in the fact that his father did not seem to love his son. But after Frodo's feeling of relief and gratitude had faded, his highest concern was Sam. His breathing seemed a little more stable, but he was still unconscious. Still, Frodo's hopes had grown. Things seemed to be taking a turn for the better. One may never know, however, what awaits beyond the next corner. Frodo laid his head on Sam's bed and drifted off into a restless sleep.

To be contiued