That evening after taking a supper with his new friends, Damrod and Mablung, Faramir headed toward the next gate and asked the guard how he might get to the Citadel. The guard clearly thought he was joking and said nothing but continued to stand his guard. Faramir sighed, undoubtedly this was some sort of initiation ritual, that or they just didn't like strangers here. "Your captain asked me to meet him this evening," Faramir tried to explain.
"My captain?" the guard said suspiciously.
"At ease, Beregond," said Boromir walking through the second gate. "You will have to forgive me, Faramir. I did not think that you would not know the pass-words. I only just realized and came. Come, i will introduce you to the Steward."
"Thank you, yet again, Boromir," Faramir said. "Do you really think you can get me an audience?"
Again Boromir wore that straight face. "One never knows what manner of mood his Stewardship will be in, but i have it on good authority that he is in a rather good mood this evening."
Together they talked, moving up through the levels of the city. At each gate a guard saluted Boromir and let him pass without question. On every level, Faramir looked around in amazement that so much was put into each street. As they went higher and higher the streets became more and more affluent looking and they guards looked more and more important.
"You say you are from Eriador, so you must be one of their Dúnedain Rangers of the North," Boromir said, as they walked through the fourth level. "Oh, by the way, that inn up ahead, the Merry Widow, i highly recommend it. Anyway, what compelled you to come here? Moreover, how did you ever make such a long trip alone?"
Faramir just shrugged. He didn't really feel like recounting the story at the moment, but something about the captain made him feel comfortable. "I... well, i guess i left because i... needed to find myself. Anyway, i know a lot about survival, i guess the trip in itself was something i needed, to prove to myself that i could take care of myself. All my life i always had...," Faramir choked slightly, but swallowed the knot in his throat, it was such a relief to get all this off his chest. "I always had my father, we did everything together, you know?"
Boromir stopped walking for a moment and looked at Faramir, though he avoided his eyes. The true answer would have been "no," but if he substituted the word "uncle" for "father" - "yes, i know exactly what you mean," Boromir said with a slightly sad smile. From there Boromir guided the conversation to more general topics.
When they reached the sixth circle, Boromir pointed out a large building near an entrance to a tunnel. "That is the Houses of Healing. You will probably want to memorize that one... particularly if you spend too much time at the Merry Widow," Boromir winked.
Again the guard at the tunnel let Boromir pass with no more than a salute. The sun was beginning to set and when they emerged from the tunnel Faramir gasped. The mountain that rose up behind Minas Tirith shadowed all of the city, but the fiery red of evening reflected in the Pelennor and on the Anduin. It was a gripping view, to say the least. Even more ironic was how dark the land east of the river was. How close this land lay to Mordor was something that had not crossed Faramir's mind when he decided to come here.
"That," Boromir said, pointing east where Faramir was already looking, "is what we are fighting against." Knowing that looking that direction for too long was not going to raise anyone's spirits, he placed his hands on Faramir's shoulders and turned him around. "This," walking him over the fountain and the White Tree, "is what we are fighting for," he said in a more proud tone.
If it was possible that Faramir could grow yet more amazed, he did. "The scion of Nimloth," he breathed, "brought here by Isildur himself!"
Boromir grinned. His new "little brother" was like a breath of fresh air, so unpretentious and enthusiastic. It was plain that he had never known the Shadow of Mordor. As they approached the tower, Boromir stopped Faramir to give him a quick seminar on addressing the Steward - when to kneel, what to say, what not to say, and so on. "In short," Boromir said, "just do everything i do," and he lead the way into the Hall of Kings.
As he followed close by Boromir into the grand hall, Faramir's eyes were drawn not to the Steward but the magnificent Throne of Gondor. He practically faltered thinking that that was what his father was heir to, and... Valar! he himself, as well. He saw Boromir kneel and he did too.
Boromir went through some obviously official speech that Faramir truly did not pay attention to, then he rose but with a hand on Faramir's shoulder signaling him to remain kneeling. Boromir said, "My lord, i present to you Faramir of Eriador, petitioner to Denethor, the twenty-sixth Ruling Steward of Gondor."
"What is your petition, Faramir?" Denethor asked in a tone that did not convey that good mood Boromir had asserted earlier. Boromir stood off to the side looking strangely at his father and wondered how his mood had shifted so quickly. He was laughing and carrying on over dinner not half an hour ago. More curious to Boromir was the fact that his father had skipped the customary command for the petitioner to rise before stating his petition. He certainly hoped that whatever this kid wanted it wasn't asking too much, he liked Faramir and would hate to see him strung up from the Tower already.
Faramir remained on his knees and said, "My lord, i come to offer my allegiance not to Gondor, but to you yourself, Steward Denethor."
For a long while there was silence and Boromir had a strong compulsion to shepherd Faramir away very quickly. He'd liked the boy, he really had, it had been so nice that someone in Minas Tirith had treated him as an ordinary person for the first time.
But in that silence, had Faramir had the nerve to look up, he would have seen first a shocked expression on the Steward's face, slowly replaced by an unsettling grin. Denethor was not so forgetful that he did not remember the only other man who had sworn his oath directly to the Steward and clearly it was no coincidence that this man looked so very alike to that. Denethor suppressed an amused laugh, this was going to be very interesting. "Do you know the oath?" Denethor said, controlling his tone.
"I do, my lord," Faramir said. Again, Boromir looked at this younger man and felt impelled to interrupt before he took an oath that would effectively surrender his freedom. And yet, Faramir was doing this freely and seemed to know what it was he was doing.
"Then swear to me," Denethor said.
Faramir took a deep breath and looked up, first toward the man seated before him, but ever did that high throne hold his attention from it's place in the background. Again he lowered his head and shut his eyes for a moment, the image of the throne still present in his mind. "Here do I swear fealty and service to Lord Denethor, Steward of Gondor, in peace or war, in living or dying, from this hour henceforth, until my lord release me, or death take me."
Boromir had taken the oath himself and heard it sworn a hundred times since he returned to Minas Tirith five years ago, but this time it struck him as wrong. He could not put his finger on it, but he felt so strongly that this young man should not be the one swearing an oath to his father. The words "death take me" rang loudly in his ears and Boromir had what felt like a premonition that he did not grasp.
Denethor instructed Faramir to rise and to kiss the Ring of Húrin and then dismissed them both. He pulled Boromir aside momentarily and whispered, "I want you to keep very close watch upon him." Boromir simply nodded and caught up to Faramir.
Once they were outside again Boromir turned to his younger friend, outright gawking at him. "What you just did... i do not know if that was the single most impressive act of bravery i have ever witnessed or sheer stupidity."
Faramir laughed. "Well, i might lean toward stupidity myself, but that it came at the guidance of someone very wise."
Boromir just shook his head. "Come on, little brother, i will take you home. What say we stop at the Merry Widow so you can get a closer look this time? I don't know about you, but i need an ale or three after that."
"Are you not on duty?" Faramir asked.
"No, he dismissed us both, the Steward. You know, the man to whom you just swore your life."
Faramir smiled. "I swore a personal oath, moreover, an oath of fealty to any but the King is a reciprocal oath. And even a King is responsible to his people."
"You are intelligent, lad, i will give you that," Boromir said with his hand on Faramir's shoulder, subtly guiding him through the now dark streets of the city. "You are the sort who would make a good king, simply because you believe that we will one day have one again. I really like your optimism, Faramir; it's something we have not had here in a long time."
They entered the inn to many shouts along the line of "here's to Captain Boromir!" He was gracious about it all but wasted no time finding a place for the two of them sit and talk. Boromir ordered the finest (and strongest) ale in the house for them both and long into the night did they both talk, getting to know each other so that by the time they left Boromir felt like he really did have a little brother to look out for. Boromir found it ironic that it just so happened that Faramir was twenty, and it was just exactly twenty years ago that his mother was due to have a child but lost it at birth. Boromir could remember how much he'd wanted to have a little brother, someone to call a friend, even at his young age. He'd had to wait twenty years, but he felt that the gods had heard him after all.
ooo
Still coming along, though not with two chapters ina day.
linda: Sometimes i actually do write things in for a reason, it's pretty rare, but i did come full circle at least on Damrod and Mablung. I had to bring them back in, and i definitely had to have the "brothers" take to each other right off.
Elenhin: I am glad that you are not foresaking rest on my account. Besides, a rested reader is a happy reader. These next chapters should have a lot to do with the dear "brothers" getting to know each other, and should be rather enjoyable.
estelle: Thank you, thank you, thank you!