To Be a Family, Chapter Two
By Reania Spiren
All main characters borrowed from Tolkien's Lord of the Rings trilogy and Appendices. I fully intend to return them whole and recognizable.
A/N: -Rea grabs hold of the lip of the closing abyss of anonymity- NO! I will not abandon you, my fic! -she theatrically calls on her rather…pathetic… reserves of upper-arm strength, pulling herself out of the abyss- There! Now that that's over…. -she dusts herself off- How'd I manage to lose this? Ah, well. read and enjoy!
The next day dawned bright and clear, and with it rose Denethor. He glanced at his wife who slept peacefully beside the hollow where he had been minutes before, and smiled. "For you, My love," he whispered. He walked the silent halls of the Citadel towards his study, his footsteps echoing through the halls. He arrived quickly at his destination, and entered, crossing the room to sit again behind his desk. An attendant walked in, and gave a brisk bow.
"My Lord, is there anything you require?" The young man asked.
Denethor looked up from the sheaf of parchment at the top of his pile. "Yes, I have not breakfasted yet."
"Yes, My Lord." The attendant said, bowing again.
Denethor dismissed the young man with a wave of his hand, and went back to his task. Yawning slightly, he gathered the pile yet to be divided. Sorting things almost automatically, he let his mind wander, lost in thought about his youngest son. He barely knew the child, and he wasn't sure his son knew who he was, besides the fact that he was Ada. He knew he had to get to know Faramir better, but he wasn't sure how…
The opening of the door brought a startled jump from the Steward. Denethor looked up to see an apologetic looking attendant bearing a steaming tray. He smiled and beckoned the young man forward, and the attendant placed the tray on a small table in the room. He bowed, and left the Steward of the Citadel to his food and his thoughts.
Denethor sat down, his stomach reminding him of just how hungry he really was. He ate quickly, not noticing what he put in his mouth, eager to get back to his looming problem. Within minutes he was again seated on his desk, reducing the stack of parchment.
Another opening of the door commanded his attention, and he looked up, annoyed at further interruption. At first, Denethor saw no one, but then he noticed a small auburn head appearing around the said door. Boromir shuffled in shyly, and looked up.
"Adar," the lad said, "Faramir wants to see you. May I bring him in?"
Denethor smiled at his eldest son. "Of course, Boromir, but do not let it be very long."
The eight-year-old lad nodded. "Yes, Adar." He ran out, and Denethor heard some quiet words spoken behind the door. A few moments later, Boromir gently led his brother in by the hand.
"Ada?" Faramir said meekly. "When're you gonna eat with me? You said you would…"
Denethor's heart tore at the sorrowful look on his youngest son's face. He stood, and walked to his children, kneeling on the ground so he was at Faramir's height. "Right now, my son. Boromir, why don't you stay, and eat with me as well?" He could not help but smile at the way Faramir's face lit up.
Boromir looked at the ground. "I already breakfasted with Aelwen. She wanted me to come right back…" he trailed off.
His father nodded. "Very well, then," he said. "Go back to Aelwen; I'm sure she has a good reason for telling you to return right away." Boromir nodded, turned, and left the room.
Once his older brother was gone, Faramir retreated slightly into himself, obviously unsure of being around his own father.
Denethor sighed inwardly, and took the child's hand. He realized with a sudden jolt that he was as nervous as Faramir, caught unawares by the situation. Masking his feelings, he looked down at the youth and smiled. "Come, Faramir. I was just sitting down to breakfast." He picked his son up and sat him in a chair next to his own, and walked over to is desk. He had barely rung the bell for the attendant when the young man entered and swept a bow.
"Yes, Milord?" The lad asked.
Denethor smiled slightly. "I request a place set out for my son."
The attendant smiled, bowed and left, returning a few moments later with dishes for Faramir. He set them down, bowed again, and left, shutting the door behind him.
Faramir looked down at his plate as Denethor rose and began placing food on it. The child smiled at the fruits, and picked an apple off his plate. "Ada," He said, "Why don' you ever talk t' me an' Bor'mir?" He took a bite of apple and chewed solemnly as Denethor groped for an answer.
"I'm very busy, Faramir. I have many things to do, I often do not have time to visit with you and Boromir, much as I would like to."
"Why?" There was the infallible question of a child.
"Because, Faramir, my work doesn't let me."
The child's face fell. "Oh." He said simply, sadly.
"Faramir," Denethor said, "I promise I will have time for you and Boromir soon. Perhaps not today, but I will visit you."
The child grinned from ear to ear, and slid down from his seat. "Yea!" he shouted, joy radiant in his face.
Denethor was uplifted as well, for the child's moods were infectious. He kneeled in front of Faramir. "However, I must finish what I have still to do before I can take the time to be with you. Do you understand?"
The young boy nodded. "Yes, Ada."
Denethor embraced his son. "Good. Now, I shall call Aelwen to retrieve you." He went to his desk and rang a different bell, and walked back to his son, who gave his legs a hug.
"I love you, Ada." The child whispered.
A tear sprang to Denethor's eye. "I love you too, my son."