Two of Swords 8: The Sun
Summer 2999 (Minas Tirith, The road to Ithilien, The Rangers Camp)
When summer had passed its peak and left the grass of the Pelenor dry and brown, as if to protest the end of the season, Faramir left for the Rangers. The Wizard, as promised, stayed on and his presence stirred the Steward to quicker action in the matter of the disposal of his younger son.
Faramir was sorry to be leaving Boromir and Mithrandir. He enjoyed helping the Wizard in the library. His research seemed to have something to do with some adventure with dwarves Mithrandir had gone on some time ago but the Wizard was parsimonious with details and Faramir was distracted with thoughts of the changes that would be occurring in his life so he did not probe as much as he might have done. In truth, the boy could see little connection between some of the books and papers he got for his old tutor.
It had been quiet since that nocturnal meeting with his father. There seemed to be a kind of cold truce between them. Now he would be leaving and his returns to Minas Tirith would be few and infrequent. It pained him to part in such a fashion with his father.
It was even harder that he had seen Boromir so little in the past weeks. His brother had to lead more and more skirmishes against Orcish incursions. He would miss his brother. Boromir had assumed adult responsibilities, such as leading the Knights, before Faramir's return from years of Fostering at Dol Amroth but, despite being apart for so much of their lives, the letters and visits with his brother meant everything to him. He hoped he would one day make his father proud and did not hate him but he loved Boromir.
As if conjured by his thoughts, the somber, black-robed figure of his father entered the room and said, "Well, boy, I see you are packed."
"Yes, my lord," replied Faramir, "I am. I did not require much."
The Steward nodded absently and said, "Good. You will be happy to know that, as your brother has an unusual lull in his duties and should see how the Rangers fare, I have told him to accompany you."
Faramir nearly laughed with joy but simply replied, "Thank you, my lord" and made a short, formal bow.
There was not exactly a smile on Denethor's face but Faramir thought there was, at least, a softening. What his father said next shocked him even more than the almost-smile.
"Boy," he said, "I do not think that you will completely disgrace me. At least you do not flinch. If there is anything I need to be appraised of regarding the Rangers, be sure to write me."
Faramir bowed his assent but dared not say anything for fear his voice would break. He vowed that he would make his father truly proud of him for the first time in his life.
Mithrandir came in immediately after Denethor's exit. Judging by the speed of the Wizard's entrance, Faramir guess that he must have been waiting by the door. What he said touched the boy deeply.
"Faramir," he said, "In all my long years, I count only you and one other to be as dear as sons to me. You may not see me for some years. Do not take my absence to be from a lack of care. You are sensitive to the fact that there is a growing darkness. You brother has been fighting it on the battlefield. I must fight it in other ways. There are hard years ahead but I know you have the strength to face them. May the blessing of the Valar go with you."
Faramir wondered who the other person Mithrandir counted as a son was and his talk of hard years made Faramir think of his dreams of burning, which made him shiver. Before he could think too much on these things, though, Boromir came in to collect him.
It was a very pleasant ride to Ithilien with Boromir. The weather continued to be dry and sunny. Although they were accompanied by a couple of Boromir's Knights, the brothers rode next to each other and talked the whole way.
When they approached the Ranger camp, three Rangers came up to them. One was somewhat older than Boromir and the other two were young, closer to Faramir's age.
"Take care of my little brother," Boromir called cheerfully.
Faramir sighed and groaned, "Boro…"
"Indulge me, Fari," he winked and said, "you are going into danger and adulthood here. I am feeling protective."
Faramir smiled and the brothers embraced and bade each other farewell. Faramir wondered when he would see Boromir again.
The older of the three Rangers came up to him. They shook hands and the weathered but kindly-looking man said, "Welcome, my lord. My name is Madril." He then gestured at his younger companions and said, "These are Damrod and Malbung. Now, my lord, I hear you know you way around a map and know how to shoot a bow quite well. These are useful skills. We will hone these and teach you more about the way of the woods."
There were smiles, handshakes, and much talk. Faramir thought he would be happy and valued here and that he could trust these men with his life.