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Faramir sighed and turned over on his bedroll. The fourth day since his return to duty was almost over and he had heard nothing. He wondered whether his father might simply neglect to send the necessary messages and allow Boromir to search for the King alone. Knowing his father's opinion of him, Faramir did not think this an impossible theory. Again, he turned. Usually, he was more used to sleeping in the wilderness than in a comfortable bed, but tonight he could not find a comfortable way to lie. Cursing the rocks and roots of the ground, Faramir stood and picked his way quietly through the ranks of sleeping men.
He made his way to the first sentry, intending to check the guard posts one by one. However, as he drew close, he could hear two voices speaking in hushed tones.
"Who goes there?" he asked. The sentry turned and saluted him, giving Faramir a view of the other speaker. He was an old man cloaked in grey and wearing a large, wide-brimmed blue hat. The fine whiskers of his beard were visible, falling down his chest in a long white stream.
"Faramir, I have an urgent message for you," the figure said and then Faramir recognised the voice.
"Mithrandir?" he asked.
"Yes, but there is little time for formalities. Your father requests your presence."
Faramir hurried back to the camp and woke his second in command, leaving him brief orders as he hastily dressed for travelling. Rejoining Mithrandir, he bade farewell to the sentry and walked some distance with the old man to a place where two horses stood, ready for travel. When they arrived there, Mithrandir turned to look at Faramir and spoke quickly and urgently.
"I know of your quest, Faramir, and if you truly desire to find a King, you would be wise to go first to the home of Elrond Half-Elven in Imladris. There you may learn much"
"The King is in Rivendell?" Faramir asked.
"No," Gandalf said. "I do not know where the heir of Isildur is, only that your suspicions were correct and he lives still, wandering the land as a Ranger of the North. Yet he was raised by the elves in Imladris after the death of his father and mother. If he may call any place home, it would be the Last Homely House." With that, Gandalf leapt astride his own horse and sat looking down at Faramir for a long moment. "Why do you desire to find a King, Faramir?" he asked eventually.
"Our land is in danger, Mithrandir. It lies in a delicate balance, but that balance is not sustainable. For the moment, we can prevent a full civil war, but we will not be able to do so for much longer. I believe that the future of Gondor is clouded. The path before us splits and I cannot tell what lies ahead on either road, but I fear death and darkness at every turn. If the return of the King will bring light unto that darkness, then it is my heart's only desire"
"You are a noble man, Faramir," Mithrandir told him. "Now fly! Fly to your brother and ride like the wind to Imladris. Go!" With that, Mithrandir spurred his horse and prepared to ride, but Faramir raised his voice and Mithrandir stilled the horse for a moment.
"Will you not accompany us on the road?" Faramir pleaded. "For surely your knowledge in this field may be of great use to us"
"Nay, Faramir. This is a matter for men to resolve among themselves. And besides, I must return to my dark vigils on the borders of Sauron's realm." With that, Gandalf gave a cry and his horse sprang forward. Within seconds, they were out of both sight and hearing and Faramir stood alone in the woods.
He mounted the horse who looked at him with quizzical, equine eyes. Then he turned the horse and rode off in the opposite direction to the one that Mithrandir had taken. He rode swiftly, wishing to Reach Boromir before daybreak.
The brothers met in a small clearing and there Faramir told Boromir of Mithrandir's words.
"These words are an encouragement," Boromir said contemplatively. "For although I have never understood Mithrandir as you seem to, he is wise beyond reckoning and if any would know the whereabouts of an heir of Isildur, it would be him. The land of Imladris though, is far away and I do not think we can hope to reach it before we have to turn for home"
"Nonetheless, we must either attempt the journey or spend two months wandering in the wilderness and return with no tidings at all," Faramir said. Boromir nodded and they rode on again in a hurry. They did not speak as they rode, but finally, when the horses were gleaming with sweat, their breath coming in short gasps, the midday sun beating down upon them all, they stopped and led the horses to a stream. Horses and men all drank deeply and then the horses stood in the shade of a tree. In the same meagre scrap of shade, the brothers cast themselves upon the ground and spoke together.
"Do you think we shall find a King, Faramir"
"I do not believe that Mithrandir would have sent us on a barren mission. If we do not find the King, we shall at least find news of him, possibly even a way of sending word to him"
"What do you think he will be like?" Boromir asked. "Will he be like the Kings of old, or will the bloodline have decayed"
"He must be a direct descendent of Isildur in order to claim the throne," Faramir said. "Other than that, I have no idea. I hope though that he will be like to the kings of old, noble and brave"
"We need him, whoever he may be," Boromir said.
"The country needs him," Faramir said. "Gondor was meant to be a Kingdom and though our line is indeed an ancient and noble one, Gondor was not designed to be ruled by stewards"
"We have done well, though," said Boromir with a sad smile.
"Yes," Faramir agreed. "The line of Mardil has had success. The times are changing, brother. Our time is over. It is time for the days of the King"
"When you know something to be right," Boromir said slowly, "is it a crime to wish and hope against it"
"It is no sin to have a breadth of feelings inside you," Faramir assured him. "For myself, I have little doubt of the right course and little reason to hope against it, other than for your sake"
"What mean you by that?" Boromir asked.
"That you were born to rule, brother. All your life you have been preparing for leadership and now the chance will be denied you. Is that not what troubles you? For it is like a weight upon my breast"
"Nay," Boromir said. "It is not for myself that I will grieve, but for the ending of a part of Gondor's history. Another tale to be written down and maybe years in the future, forgotten. The work of the stewards will pass into legend and people will laugh at the idea that a steward could ever rule a country"
"Let us hope then, that this King we seek will be noble and just and will instead preserve the office of steward and remember our long years of toil"
"Faramir," Boromir started tentatively, "have you thought of what will happen if it does not fall to either one of us to serve this King"
"I confess that I have not," Faramir said, looking at his brother.
"I am loath to return to Minas Tirith," Boromir confessed. "Not for myself, but for you. The way he treats you"
"Boromir," Faramir interrupted sharply, "our father's opinion of me seems to trouble no one but you"
"Please," Boromir said, "let me finish"
"Very well"
"If we have no duties once this King arrives, if we are cut loose from all ties that have bound us, I propose that we go forth together, alone, sons of the last Steward"
"Boromir"
"At least think about it," Boromir pleaded. "We could live among men in peace and anonymity. And you would never again have to fear his censure"
"I do not fear his censure," Faramir said. "It seems only you who does that"
"Will you not even consider it"
"I will consider it," Faramir said, "but only once we have found the King and he has dismissed us both from his service. Until then, it is not a matter that we need discuss, for we do not know all the possibilities"
"Very well," Boromir said. "Sleep now, little brother. I will wake you in two hours and take my own rest. After that, we must ride on, for already it feels as though time draws short"
"That feeling is also upon me," Faramir said. So saying, he lay back and closed his eyes. Within seconds, his breathing became rhythmic and deep and Boromir looked down on his sleeping brother, the cares of waking life stripped for once from his face.
"Sleep well, brother," Boromir whispered, gazing upon Faramir with protective love.
tbc