A knock at his door drew Faramir slowly from his reverie. Aragorn entered, a little concerned that Faramir did not respond and was looking distant. The father remained silent, waiting patiently for his son because he recognized well that distant look as one that his father, and occasionally his wife, wore when being shown something by the Powers.

Faramir turned to his father and smiled brightly. "I know now, i've remembered it," he said simply.

Aragorn smiled. "I knew you would if you just rested your mind. I am curious to know, though," he said, pulling up a chair.

Faramir told his father of that night at the Merry Widow. "It all makes sense to me now. The only thing i do not know is how to go about telling Belthil."

Aragorn leaned back and just looked steadily at his son, his brow raised.

Faramir could not help but laugh, knowing what his father meant immediately. "I guess the direct approach is best," Faramir said. "Have you seen him yet today?"

"No, i have not, but he should be about. He told me that he was not on patrol until this evening," replied Aragorn.

Faramir nodded. "Then i shall seek for him now," he said, pulling on a tunic.

As father and son walked out into the hall it happened that Belthil was also just stepping out. Faramir called to him, asking if they might speak together and inviting him into his room. Aragorn caught Faramir's attention, nodding toward the door as a gesture of asking if he should sit in as well. Faramir indicated agreement by the same gesture.

For a moment Faramir was not sure how to open this conversation, it was not something he had ever planned for. Finally, he decided to ask Belthil what his mother looked like, just as one final confirmation. Belthil, though rather confused, confirmed that his mother had a purely Gondorian look, including the long, dark hair and eyes of grey. Faramir then asked if Belthil knew any more about his father than he had mentioned the night before. Belthil sadly answered that he did not.

Faramir felt incredible pity for the young man and reached out his hand in consolation, and his words in disclosure. "Belthil, when i first noticed you yesterday afternoon with your company, i was almost certain that i was looking upon my brother again. Even now i... it's all i can do to keep myself from calling you Boromir. Everything you told us of has lead me to it, and this morning when i remembered that my brother...," Faramir paused, trying to frame his words correctly, "loved a woman named Imloth 19 years ago... how could you be anyone but my brother's son?"

For several moments Belthil sat silent and still, looking as though he knew not what to make of this situation. Then suddenly he rose and walked out of the room. Faramir sighed and shook his head, he had so hoped that his half-nephew would have taken his news better. Aragorn put an arm around his son's shoulder to console him, when just then Belthil returned with a sealed letter in his hand.

"Your brother was Boromir?" he asked Faramir in a quiet voice. Faramir nodded and Belthil handed him the letter. "Then this was meant for your brother, my father. What happened to him?"

It was Aragorn who answered, the memory of what happened to Boromir still all too fresh in his mind. "Your father was one of the Nine Walkers that my foster-father, Lord Elrond, sent forth. He was one of the bravest companions i have ever had the pleasure of traveling with. At the parting of our ways at Amon Hen Boromir was killed when orcs swept us." He decided not to go into the details because neither he nor Faramir needed them immediately, and nor did Belthil.

Belthil looked pensive for a while then muttered to himself with a chuckle that he certainly never dreamed that the Boromir addressed on the letter was the Steward's son. "Imagine me, baseborn son of the heir to the Stewardship."

"A man's birth does not determine his quality, and you have proven to us your quality," Faramir said sincerely, then glanced to Aragorn in question.

"You already know my answer, ion-nín," was his reply.

Faramir cracked a smile with his affirmation and said to Belthil, "I would entrust you with a secret that must be kept permanently, that is if you wish to know."

"I would honor your confidence with my life," Belthil replied, no longer sure of how to address Faramir, his uncle or his Lord.

"I appreciate that, Belthil, but i do not ask your life, not simply to know that i am not the son of Denethor," Faramir said, repressing a shudder at speaking that name.

Belthil looked both confused and disheartened. "Then... you are not my uncle?" he asked.

"I am," Faramir said, "but by half. Boromir was my half-brother. I am, in fact, the son of Aragorn, son of Arathorn."

Belthil's mouth dropped as he looked between the King and the Steward. Of all the things he might have expected to happen on his morning off, this was surely not one.

Faramir waited a moment before speaking again, bringing up a point that even Aragorn had not thought of. "So you realize, Belthil, that this in fact means that you have a legitimate claim to the Stewardship of Gondor."

Belthil looked up immediately, no more confusion about him. "No, i have not, nor should i wish to. I have given you my word and only by the breaking of that word could i put forth a claim. I am nothing if not a man of my word," he said solemnly. His voice then softened as he said, "In truth, i am more glad than ever before just to know that i have an uncle and that my father was a good man."

Faramir smiled brightly. "He was a great man, Belthil, and i can not tell you the good it does me to know that a part of him still lives in as fine a man as you. He was the best brother a man could hope for, and he would have been extremely proud to know you."

Aragorn nodded in agreement, ever thankful that Boromir had always looked after Faramir when they were boys. Turning to Belthil, Aragorn spoke. "I have been thinking of how i might justly reward your loyalty, Belthil, and i think i might know. I would greatly like to appoint you to Lord Beregond's company. They will be stationed at Faramir's home in Emyn Arnen, whenever that comes into being. I was thinking that in the meanwhile you might do well as a Citadel Guard. I offer this to you, but i do not impose it. It is up to you, Belthil."

Belthil sat motionless, his eyes lit with astonishment. "Citadel Guard?" he whispered.

Aragorn nodded.

"Citadel Guard," the young man repeated. "It has been my highest aspiration since i was a child."

"Then it is yours, Belthil. It would be a honor to have you return to Minas Tirith with us," Aragorn said cheerfully. He was thrilled that things finally seemed to be getting on track for him and Faramir.

That night Faramir went to his sleep with the best sense of peace he had since the War ended. His smiled glowed like the last embers on the hearth across the room as he fell asleep thinking that he still had a connection to his belovéd brother. Faramir was feeling so contented that he never could have thought what his dreams would reveal to him that night.

It started with a sharp scream piercing the night. Faramir woke suddenly back in his chambers in the Citadel. He hurried to help the one in peril only to find it was Éowyn. Erestor was already there as was Arwen, but when he frantically asked them what was wrong neither heard him. He rushed to Éowyn's side to try to calm her somehow, but it was as though he was not there at all. He watched in helpless silence as nothing helped and Éowyn screams went down to sobs, then ragged breaths. He saw Éowyn grip Arwen's hand and ask her to tell him that she loved him, then she was silent and her hand fell away from the Queen's.

Faramir sat up in his bed, shaking and in a cold sweat. He was dressed in a matter of seconds and running through the inn, out to the stable. Suddenly his hand was caught and he turned, ready to fight anyone who would have stopped him until he saw that it was Glorfindel. Faramir stood still, trying to catch his breath as tears welled up.

"Faramir...," Glorfindel began softly.

"Don't stop me this time, please. This is a matter of life and death," Faramir said with the little breath he had regained, choking on his words for the tears.

"I had the same vision, Faramir," Glorfindel said quietly. "I know what you saw. And you know by now how the Valar work through you."

Faramir's tears finally spilled. "I have to go. What if this is different? What if i can help her?"

Glorfindel shook his head, still keeping a solid grip on Faramir's arm. "You know, Faramir. There are not even goodbyes to be said now."

His tears overwhelmed him as he sank to the ground. He tried to form words but could only sob. He did know. When the Valar granted him visions they were not meant to spur him to action (though they usually did), but they were only meant to show him what had already come to pass that he might be better able to accept and react accordingly.

Aragorn stepped out of the inn hoping for a peaceful walk in the night but saw up ahead by the stable his son on the ground weeping and Glorfindel trying to console him. Utterly confused, Aragorn stood silent for a moment before moving toward them. A hand on his shoulder stayed him though.

"We must return to Minas Tirith immediately," Legolas said. "I was just coming to wake you."

Aragorn just gave his friend a worried, questioning look.

Legolas looked toward the Elf and the young Man at hand. "Both Glorfindel and Faramir have had the same vision, Lady Éowyn is dead."

---

linda: You were right... you did leave me a couple reviews that i never was alerted to. Good thing i checked the reviews on the story itself!

grumpy: Yeah, even though they do not get along, he still loves her. Love is a funny thing like that. But, now....

Raska: I know, but for the rest of you, that remains to be seen. It will all become clear soon.

Voldie: School isn't really stupid, just the lack of learning that tends to take place in schools today (say, not too bad for someone who never studied Spanish, eh?) As for Faramir... he's going to need love and a lot of it. I know i could help! Continue i shall.