Faramir lie alone on his bed after those in the Golden Hall had disbanded. That day had turned out to be so full of surprises. Éomer had even approached Faramir and thanked him for helping to set him to rights again. The world now was quiet and restful, even Rohan's famous horses taking their rest, but Faramir was awake and stretched out on the bed to read more of Boromir's words.

The next entry he came to was dated May 1, 3002. Faramir remembered it clearly as the day Boromir's fever had finally broken. His company had spent two months successfully aiding Dol Amroth with their Haradrim problem, but during their return march they were attacked by a small band, all of whom escaped. Boromir was only very slightly injured and thought nothing of it, but the wound became infected and by the time he got back to Minas Tirith he was delirious.

Denethor refused to allow the healers to keep him in the Houses on the sixth level, so Boromir had to be treated in his own apartments which lead to a lot of ill-timing in the heir's treatments and prolonged the fever to over a week. The healers of Minas Tirith, being a marginally conceited group as they were at any rate, had taken greatest offense at Denethor's behavior and absolutely refused that the Steward be allowed into his son's bedchamber at any time, claiming that if he wanted his heir to pull through, he would have to cooperate this time. They even went so far as to point out that if Boromir's fever happened to be catching, it would not do to risk the Steward's well-being. Denethor's great mistrust of healers and their art only served to make him fear them more.

It was more than a lucky shot that Faramir was still home and able to stay by Boromir at all times, for he had not yet been deployed with Ithilien's new Rangers. It was as yet too dangerous in that area to execute a shift of manpower, there were even rumors that the One Ring had something to do with all the increased orc activity. At any rate, Faramir would not be pried from his big brother for anything. Denethor did not seem to care about Faramir's presence even though he was not aware, as Faramir was, that Boromir's fever was only the result of an infection and would break before long with no risk of contagion to others.

Faramir remembered so clearly Boromir waking and embracing his brother as though they had not seen each other in years. "I feared you would be lost to us," Faramir had said softly. "I was so afraid of what would happen without my big brother."

"Would i ever do that to you, Fara'?" Boromir had said, reaching up to intercept a tear on Faramir's cheek.

Faramir smiled, shaking his head. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

Boromir narrowed his eyes vaguely in consideration. "Hungry," he said plainly.

Faramir laughed, embracing him again. "Thank the Valar, my brother is hungry! Stay here and rest, i will bring you a feast," Faramir said, his smile then fading as a thought occurred. "I am sure that father will want to see you, too."

Boromir shook his head wearily. "Not now, Fara'. Do not tell him anything has changed. I want a moment with my little brother," he said covering Faramir's hand with his own. Faramir nodded gratefully and moved to rise, but Boromir's hand remained over his. "That book you gave me the last time i came home, will you bring me that as well? It is under my pillow... unless you already know that."

Faramir grinned. "I did not know that, but may i suggest you find a new hiding place now. I will be back directly."

Still Boromir held Faramir's hand. "Thank you, brother. I adore you," he said sincerely.

Faramir did his best to constrain his tears as he kissed his brother's cheek and whispered, "thank you, my brother."

Faramir looked up, coming out of his reverie, as he, through his ajar chamber door, sensed a light out in the hallway. "Lord Glorfindel?" he ventured to guess. He was correct.

"Still awake, Faramir? Do you find it as difficult as i to sleep in a barn?" the Vanya Elf said with a grin.

"I rather do, but that was not the reason for my wakefulness this night. I've just been reading more that my brother had written," Faramir said.

"Your brother was a writer?" Glorfindel asked surprised, clearly remembering the proud, young Gondorian who had the nerve (or naïveté) to argue with not only Legolas and Aragorn, but Elrond as well. He so reminded the Balrog-slayer of himself.

"In a manner of speaking. He kept a journal at my prompting, and i am so very glad that he did," Faramir said. "I think Belthil will be as well. From what i have read, my brother loved his mother. I never had any inclination of that before now, and Boromir and i shared everything. My guess is that he thought it cowardly to fall in love."

"Nothing could be further from the truth," Glorfindel said at once. "The cowardly are incapable of expressing love."

Faramir nodded solemnly. "I have learned that."

"You have learned much," Glorfindel grinned. "I will leave you to your peace. Should anyone need me, i will likely be outdoors."

Faramir nodded and turned back to the book to read more.

May 6, 3002

I feel i have finally gotten back to top figure again after that incredibly irksome bout of fever. I am grateful as never before to have had Fara' with me, i do not know if i could have fought that alone. I would mention now that the healers refused to allow father to see me before i woke from my feverish state, and i do not know if that relieves me or upsets me, i just know that i was glad that Faramir was there when i awoke.

I wish we could have returned here sooner, though i was pleased to see my uncle Imrahil and cousin Lothíriel again (she shall one day make some man a proud husband, to be sure). It was two months that we ended up spending in the south. I wonder for how long i shall be home this time.

In truth, i scarcely want to stay. I am ready for the next battle to be waged on Gondor's behalf, yet i fear that the battles on my own home front shall grow more pressing. I do not fear on attack on Minas Tirith, for Osgiliath is a reliable fort. I fear more that it is that within the city that i must be mindful of. Even in just the last two months, it seems that father has grown more fey. It concerns me greatly that it may not be long until i have to consider laying down my sword for this pen to take on some kind of clerical rank. At a mere quarter of a century in age, that thought repulses me entirely, even if i have seemed to develop an odd ache in my shoulder from time to time.

Then, the news i dread allowing myself to explore:

I was to the Widow again this afternoon.... I asked after Imma' since i had not even a single chance to get back their before leaving for Dol Amroth. No one has seen her since February. I rather interrogated a few of the other women there, i may have slightly injured the owner of the establishment, but no one knew anything at all. Somehow, someway i need to find out what happened to her. These last few times home, her and Fara' are the only reasons i look forward to my return.

Moreover, i do not understand why she did not leave word for me. That is what frightens me. Could someone have coerced her to go? For some while i have feared that perhaps father has known of my attentions to her (it has grown much more difficult to keep anything from him). But surely no one would have said anything to him, it is only to be expected of a man of my position and age to frequent taverns and the activities that they provide. I even suspected Faramir briefly, i know he disapproves of such behavior, but he would never go anywhere near father with such information. Likely father would have him flogged a liar.

My concerns seem to grow with every moment that i sit here and write this. Is it possible that her illness caused her to leave the city for some reason? If it interfered with her career too much, she may have been turned out... but that can not be, for in that case someone would surely know what had occurred. What would make her leave Minas Tirith? Why would she leave me? Perhaps i am the reason. Perhaps she feared that we had grown to care about each other too much, why else would she not leave word for me? But i do care about her, i would have brought her here to the Citadel, damn whatever father would say. I fear i really have grown to love her... but now, what am i to do? I can hardly ride all over Gondor looking for her - though i would do it, if i only had any, just the smallest clue. Where have you gone, Imloth?

Why do i have the feeling that one by one all those i love and depend on are falling? Why do i feel that Gondor herself is falling? How can i possibly keep pace with this task i am charged with? I fear i am losing hope....

---

linda: Yes, both Faramir's are doing alright, for a switch. The Rivendell trip - all in good time.

Elenhin: The young Faramir/older Faramir thing is what i was going for. They are very similar personalities. Imagine if our Faramir who we know and love had an Elf-lord for a tutor! As for the Mouse Army idea - the more the merrier! I shall see what i can come up with, and i'll be interesting in seeing what you both come up with. I have some ideas brewing, probably a one-shot as well. Perhaps when/if this story is ever done, or if i find myself needing to write something else to clear my mind.

Redone: You honor me, mellon. The thing about Chaos Theory was that, especially in Faramir's case, things were shaky according to the plot line. It is possible that i didn't introduce the "supernatural" influence soon enough, thus throwing it off a little when it was revealed. I might have labeled it angst/supernatural, but this is Middle-earth... in my opinion the supernatural bit would be redundant. Anyway, this story really does flesh out the personalities though. Everyone has something of their own to deal with, it is a matter of growth.