Faramir rode south, not really knowing where he was going, but knowing that going any other direction would get him pretty much nowhere fast. He had no desire to go west or north, there was too much chance that he would run into someone he knew out there. He knew nearly nothing of the east, but that he would have to cross the Hithaeglir and he did not fancy taking the High Pass so near to what the Hobbit Bilbo called "Goblin Town." So south it was.
He looked up for a moment and studied his map. Hollin Ridge was ahead, another two days off he guessed. He debated momentarily on his next course. He really favored getting somewhere as soon as possible, but he had never heard anything good about Caradhras and Moria in general. He decided to stay by the river until Tharbad where he would then pick up the Old South Road.
Faramir had been on the road for a month before he was on the Old South Road. He was starting to realize that he was taking too much time and needed to either move faster or cut back on his rations, or both. One rainy night as he was huddled off the road, trying to get some sleep, he looked up and saw the full moon peering out from between the clouds. A month and a half, then, Faramir reckoned. A month and a half that he had been gone, a month and a half since he had seen his father. Faramir broke down then and wept. He tried to tell himself to turn around and go home, to beg his father's forgiveness - he had not even said goodbye to him - and accept whatever responsibility it was that he was born to.
He could not bring himself to do it though. He knew that he had come out here for a reason and now he had come all this way, he was not prepared to turn around. So onward Faramir went. He was careful in Dunland, having heard that they were less than friendly to strangers, and more than once it was only quick think or quick riding that got him out of harm's way there. He came through to the Gap of Rohan and looking again at his map made another decision, if it was his fate to be the heir to Isildur's heir, he would go to Gondor and serve as his father once had.
Faramir crossed over the Fords of the Isen and rode on passed Helm's Deep. In the Westfold he was stopped by a party of riders. Their captain looked to be about his own age and clearly of some import. "Greetings of the Mark," he called, riding up to Faramir. "I hope you will not mind an armed escort, but i shall have to bring you before the King before we can allow you to continue."
Faramir did not think much of this greeting. "May i ask why," he said as his greeting.
The captain grinned in a slightly unnerving way. "You are a stranger here, and we are rather careful of strangers, especially in these days. We mean no offense, it is just a matter of security. I am Prince Théodred."
Faramir nodded in the Elven form of deference. "If you are the King's son, can i not just tell you of my purpose? I had hoped to get to Gondor without much more delay."
Théodred smiled amiably now. "I can not, i am sorry, it is not my law, but my father's. It will not take long and you would have to pass Edoras on your way anyhow. You can take a bit of rest there, get something hot to eat. We are really a very friendly people, once you get to know us."
Faramir supposed he could not refuse and so consented. In the end, he was quite glad to sleep in a real bed again and have a proper meal. The next day when he was brought before Théoden, the King had to keep himself from looking twice, it was as though Thorongil himself was in Rohan again. Upon learning that the young man was the son of Thorongil, he gave him his personal welcome immediately and saw to it that his saddlebags were filled with provisions before he left again. Faramir was very appreciative and thanked the King profusely for his help. Théoden just smiled and said, "think nothing of it, young Faramir. It is not the first time i have welcomed you and seen to it that you were fed."
Faramir decided to ignore whatever cryptic meaning that statement held and just be on his way. On his way out of the city of Edoras, Faramir passed two young children, who he guessed to be brother and sister. The younger girl and older boy were having quite a tussle, even if it was just play, and Faramir thought it might be best if someone separated them before the poor girl got hurt. "Easy, lad," he said kneeling beside the boy with a firm, but not unkind, hand on his shoulder, "did no one ever tell you not to strike a lady?"
To his utter shock, the girl, who he judged to be no more than about 8, landed an extremely hard punch on Faramir's arm that actually made him cry out. He stared in disbelief at the girl child who stood with her hands firmly on her hips and said, "i am not a "lady" and i can take care of myself!"
When he recovered he looked again at the older boy and said, "you have my sympathies lad. I hope you have adequate armor." Faramir then mounted and rode quickly away before he got beaten up by any more females. The world outside of home seemed to be very different indeed.
Faramir proceeded to follow the Snowbourne to the Entwash, and subsequently the Mouths of the Entwash, until he crossed over the Mering Stream and into Gondor, at last. As he came upon a small town there by the river mouths, he decided to try to seek rest before finally going on to Minas Tirith where he hoped to be found worthy enough to serve in some way.
Riding up to the settlement, a rather powerfully built man accompanied by a smaller, but no less strong looking man, walked out to meet him. "What is your business here, stranger?" the bigger man asked.
"I have no business," Faramir said. "I am seeking rest before carrying on to Minas Tirith. I have provisions i can share, if that helps."
The two men glanced at each other. "Minas Tirith?" said the smaller of the two. "We have plans to go to the White City at week's end. We thought it might be wise to offer our service before we are pressed into it. I suppose you had the same idea?"
Faramir nodded. "I had not fears of being pressed into service, but i did intend to offer it freely."
"Excellent! We go together, then? My name is Damrod, and this oaf who probably scared the light of the stars out of you is my friend Mablung. He is really a softy, once you get to know him. We just keep him around to scare off thieves and rabbits."
At that Faramir laughed for the first time in months. He instantly liked these men, who seemed no older than himself. He was obliged and again offered to share his provisions, though he insisted that he didn't need a place to sleep, that he would do just fine under the stars.
Damrod wouldn't hear it, though, and all but demanded that Faramir stay in his house. His mother would have supper for them and there was a spare room. Faramir gave in and went along with his new friend, who introduced him to his mother, Indis. He was welcomed with open arms and made to feel much at home, though he could not help feeling that the lady of the house eyed him rather curiously.
"From where do you come, Faramir?" Indis asked conversationally as they took supper together.
"The North," Faramir said. "It is my hope that i can be of service here."
"Every able man is of service here," Indis said. "You look to be about Damrod's age, about twenty?"
"Exactly so, my lady," Faramir said and Indis looked even more curious. She wondered if it was possible that this was the same child brought to her by that poor, ragged man who was trying so hard to keep his little one well. It had been twenty years ago, she would never forget, Damrod was only six months and she was able to feed both babies. The struggling Ranger was so abashed that she fed them right there in the kitchen she thought he would blind himself before looking toward her. Perhaps Malantur would remember what the Ranger's name was since he brought him to her.
A couple days later the three young men set out for Minas Tirith to offer their services to Gondor. Faramir remembered something that Elrond had said to him as he was leaving and kept the advice in his heart: "Pledge your loyalty to no cause or country, but to a living man alone, for a man must be accountable for the fealty given him." One week later the three friends arrived at the White City and Faramir was taken aback. Only in ancient works had he seen anything so...
Damrod laughed at the expression on Faramir's face. "Certainly is overwhelming, is it not?"
They were given entrance into the city, but told that they had to remain on the first level until an officer came to officially conscript them. They were told that they could hire a room in the Lamp Wright's street and someone would be sent around. As they went on to find the inn the sergeant-at-arms who had directed them was startled out of his wits by his captain "sneaking up" on him.
"Captain Boromir!" he said with an almost confused salute.
"At ease, sergeant," Boromir said with a smile that could put anyone at ease. "Who were those men?" he asked.
"Volunteers, sir," replied the sergeant. "I was going to send for an officer."
"Well," said Boromir, grinning like a Cheshire cat, "here i am! Did you get any names?" he asked.
"No sir," the sergeant said, suddenly worried that perhaps he should have.
"I only ask because i could swear one of them is familiar to me," Boromir explained.
The sergeant chuckled and said, "I admit, sir, when i first saw him i thought you had an illegitimate brother." He blanched, suddenly realizing that that could have been taken as calumny against the Steward.
He needn't have worried, as Boromir laughed also. "Well, i will find out for myself, i suppose. At your duty," he said, saluting. This time the sergeant's salute was much more precise. Boromir went on toward the inn on the Lamp Wright's street, the Old Guesthouse it was simply called, just across from the second gate. A five minute walk for an ordinary man, so popular was Boromir that it took him ten minutes after stopping to say hello to nearly every person he passed. He often felt that his popularity had more to do with the fact that he was the Steward's son than anything else.
By the time he got to the Old Guesthouse two of the men had already gone to their room to get ready for supper. The third was in the stables getting their horses settled as he was not comfortable leaving the task to an ostler (set aside the fact that he knew neither of the other men had coin enough for that service). For a moment Boromir just stood by, not entering. It was eerie, Boromir could have sworn he knew that man, there was something familiar about him.
The man said something to his horse that Boromir did not quite catch and he took up the few packs he had with him. Unexpectedly, though, the young man sat down on a pile of hay and put his head in his hands. He reached into one of his packs and pulled out what looked to Boromir like a big wooden leaf. Running a thumb over the intricate carving the young man broke down completely for the second time since leaving his beloved home.
It was more than Boromir could bear. Quietly, he walked over to the man and rested a hand on his shoulder. Faramir's head snapped up and he almost pulled away but Boromir handed him a handkerchief and sat down beside him. After a while, when the younger man seemed to calm down, Boromir asked sympathetically, "are you all right?"
Faramir took a deep breath and nodded hesitantly. "A little homesick, i guess."
Boromir nodded, saying, "I know the feeling. What is your name?"
"Faramir of... of Eriador," he replied almost automatically.
"Boromir of Gondor," Boromir said, offering his hand which Faramir grasped gratefully. "My sergeant tells me you and your companions are come to volunteer?"
"Aye," Faramir said tiredly.
"Do not worry, this city is not quite as overwhelming once you get used to it," Boromir smiled. "I grew up here until i was five and i will never forget my first time down to the sixth level, i was scared to death."
Faramir gave an uneven little grin back. "I doubt you were just as scared at twenty," he said.
"You are quite right... i was a lot more scared," Boromir laughed. "I hadn't seen my father since i was six and i was not certain i wanted to. I had no real reason to worry though. You will do fine, too. What service did you intend to volunteer?"
"I was a Ranger in the north with my father, so i guess that is what i am best qualified for," Faramir said rather unenthusiastically.
"Ah, i see. Well, i am Captain of the Guard, currently," Boromir said.
"Oh... i am sorry, but i did not know that, nor do i know what your protocol for addressing superiors is here," Faramir said as more of an explanation than an excuse.
Boromir smiled though. "You will learn, but you do not have to worry about that off duty, not with me at any rate. Is there anything i can do to make you feel a little less homesick?" he asked, feeling genuinely sorry for the younger man.
Faramir laughed humorlessly. "Well, this is probably right out of the question, but i was hoping that i could see the Steward at some point."
Boromir put on a totally straight face then, but could not keep the mischievous twinkle from his eyes. "Well, that is a little bit unlikely, but... i happen to know that the Steward is usually in his best mood of the day after supper. If you come up to the Citadel then and ask for me, i may be able to... pull a string or two?"
"I do not wish to inconvenience you," Faramir said.
"Think nothing of it, Faramir. Is there anything else?" Already Boromir wanted to take this younger man under his wing.
"No, your generosity has been more than enough," Faramir said. "I do not have a big brother, but you make me feel as if i do."
"Well, that is perfect!" Boromir exclaimed. "I do not have a little brother, you make me as if i do as well! Let us shake on that, shall we?"
Faramir had to laugh, this man's disposition was utterly contagious. He took the hand offered him and shook upon their pact.
"Terrific! I shall see you this evening after supper?" Boromir said.
"Aye," Faramir nodded.
"Good, see you then," he said standing and heading to the door. "Welcome to Minas Tirith, little brother!"
"Thank you," Faramir said, and added in a whisper, "big brother."
ooo
I really could have broken this into two chapters, but i figured you guys are probably getting a little overwhelmed with me updating so much. I am starting to overwhelm myself!
Elenhin: How can there be anything wrong, really you must not worry about when you review. I am just thrilled that you have enjoyed my work so much. It is humbling. I also hope that you have not tired yourself out just waiting for this latest update, though i did have it up tonight as i promised. I also know many who think that a younger person can not do as well as someone older. I know that isn't true and have been given wonderful opportunities because of those who have believed in me, yet there are always those who doubt. Wisdom does not know age, only experience, and some young people have experienced more than older people ever could have. No need to stay up any longer, though, i doubt i will write more until sometime tomorrow. :)