Author's note: the little flowers (~*~) signify time jumps

Denethor was starting to get angry. Boromir was waiting on him! He made a fresh attempt to wrangle his youngest son, who seemed to be in a mood. "But where, Papa? Where we going? You say, 'Have to wash face!' but I don' have on nice clothes."

"It's not important; just do as I say," he said. He really did try to keep the annoyance out of his voice, but something about Faramir's incessant questions always got to him. Thankfully he quieted down long enough for Denethor to finish getting him ready. And it's about time. Boromir has always been headstrong, but I don't remember him being like this when he was a toddler! Denethor shook his head and scooped up his son as he started speed-walking to the training grounds. It was Boromir's first day, and Denethor really wanted to be there for him, show him the ropes.

His thoughts were interrupted by a fresh round of interrogation. "Is we going to library? Is Mama at library?"

How am I ever going to get him to behave? He's going to be like this the whole time; he hates waiting… Denethor adjusted his grip on Faramir, suddenly struck by inspiration. "It's a surprise, son. You will have to figure out what it is when we get there."

The evening passed without incident. Denethor was very proud of both his boys; Boromir had performed well, and Faramir had patiently waited for his mother to arrive. It wasn't until he drifted off to sleep that night that Denethor remembered making some kind of mention of a surprise. Well, I'm sure if I forgot it then he did too. After all, he's so young…

~*~

"Father, why do I have to go?" Faramir asked plaintively.

"It is a surprise; you will find out when you're older." Denethor rushed up and down the room, trying to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything.

Finduilas smiled patiently at her boys. "You haven't left anything behind, dear, you never do. Come on, we're finally ready."

Denethor sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "You are probably right," he said, following her out the door. The two brothers walked in front with their parents following close behind.

"Denethor," Finduilas said, her voice low and serious. "You need to stop telling Faramir that things he doesn't want to do are 'surprises'. I told him yesterday that if he was good, he would get a surprise. He squinted at me and asked where exactly he'd have to go to get it."

Denethor chuckled. "Once again, you're probably right. I did it once or twice and fell into

a habit… I'll have to work on it." ~*~

"Son. Are you ready? We need to leave soon." Denethor waited outside Faramir's door.

He could barely hear the answer, but the tone sounded resigned, so he was probably just putting his shoes on now. I know this has been hard for all of us, but dawdling won't make it easier, Denethor thought. You're ten now, and you should be old enough to understand that. With a final shake of his head, he went down the hall to collect Boromir.

Afterwards he knocked again, and this time the door opened. Faramir walked out, dressed in his mourning clothes. "I'm sorry, Father, I forgot… where are we going now?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

Denethor was going over the fastest routes in his mind and herding his sons down the hall, so he neither heard Faramir's question nor looked closely at him. Boromir was paying attention to his brother, though. That's twice in one day he's cried himself into dreams. He must not be sleeping at all at night, if he's that exhausted. I should say something. At the very least, he can't cry at Mother's… he never finished the thought. Faramir had repeated his question, and Denethor had automatically answered, "It's a surprise."

There was a moment of silence after that. Everyone was wrapped up in his own thoughts. Denethor was cursing himself. He had tried very hard for a very long time to break himself of that habit, but when he was under stress the old excuse always came back. He had even been trying lately to provide some "real" surprises, to offset the disappointments, but he knew it was a bad solution. Still, they were almost to their destination, and he was in too deep now to go back.

At this point, Faramir had woken up a little and remembered what was going on, but both he and Boromir were confused by their father's words. They both knew that his surprises weren't always the good kind- several visits to grumpy relatives came to mind. But those were at most unpleasant. They had never yet been "surprised" with anything like a funeral. Maybe there was something good coming, after all. Faramir guessed that maybe one of their aunts or uncles would watch them for the afternoon, letting them avoid what they had to do. Boromir, for his part, suspected that they would be given some kind of treat afterwards, on condition of good behavior.

Their hopes were destined to be dissapointed. All their relatives were at the crypt, and none of them seemed inclined to provide sweets. Boromir stayed on his best behaviour, though, just in case. Faramir got very quiet after they arrived. He trailed behind his father and let all his aunts hug him and tell him how much they loved him. He let his uncles pat him on the head and

tell him what a strong little man he was. None of what was happening was really being processed in his mind; he was just watching and waiting.

The critical moment arrived. The body of Finduilas was brought forth on a bier and laid to rest inside her coffin. They all watched respectfully; Denethor was stoic with a strong arm around each of his sons. There was a small moment of silence. Then Denethor picked up the small box that had been waiting in a shallow alcove. He opened it, and removed a delicate silver necklace and two small trinkets. He handed the trinkets to his sons, and together they stepped forward to give their last gifts.

When the ceremony was over, the more distant relatives dispersed, leaving the brothers, the fathers, and the sons to mourn privately. None of them shed tears; they were as still and silent as the figures of the graves.

~*~