Faramir ran to the gate of the Citadel, but he stopped halfway. The battle seemed to have quietened. Surely he could spend few moments before joining the battle? He must first find his father. He did not see him fighting in the lower circles, so he must still be in the Tower. He turned back and it was then that he saw the ruins of the Tower. He faltered and fell on his knees. For the first time in these maddening days he simply did not know what to do. The battle does not seem to touch even the second circle, so how come the Tower was destroyed, the White Tower that his forefathers had built? And if the Tower was ruined, where is his father?

He was relieved, though confused, to find the base of the tower intact and the other buildings in the Citadel seemingly untouched. He rose and ran to the Steward's House, but as he supposed, his father was not there. For the Lord Denethor had stayed mostly in the Tower during the recent years.

He came to the Tower Hall, the only thing left of the White Tower. His father was not there, but in the dais there stood a tall man. That man looked warily at the throne and the Steward's chair. He seemed to hear Faramir's steps, as now he turned towards him. Once Faramir saw his face, he knew that that man was a king of the West. His face closely resembled the statue of Elendil that grace the Citadel. Perhaps one of the old kings of Gondor has come to stand by his City in her last days. Faramir was never one to doubt the old lore or to restrain his hope.

The king looked relieved when he saw Faramir, as one who had searched for something for long and had finally found it. "Lord Faramir," he called softly.

Faramir was surprised that the King knew his name. But there was a more pressing question in his heart. He stood now only a stone throw from the King. He could see that the king wore an old travelling garb which was stained with blood and mud. His face too was much stained. Somehow this forlorn appearance of the king pierced his heart more fiercely than the sight of the battle or the ruins of the Tower. Even if Gondor should fall, she should not fall like this! She should not be degraded to ruins, with her king forced to live in exile!

"My lord King," he said once he could find his voice, "what has befallen you? Are you hurt? Why are you here alone?"

The King seemed amazed at his questions. Then he smiled and said, "I am no longer alone. Come with me."

Faramir approached him. "Do you see the Steward, lord? I am worried about him."

The King's careworn face seemed even more so. He answered slowly, "Your father is not here. You will soon know where he is. Come with me."

It was a clear summons, but it was also a sincere plea. No man of Gondor should disobey the King's summons, and Faramir would not deny his King's plea. So he decided to follow the King, whoever he might be. He found his heart rejoiced as he walked with the King. They went to a door beside the dais that leads to the King's House, which had long been vacant. The King went first. When Faramir passed through the door, he felt a strong wind pushed him forward, and he fell at his face. Once again all was dark as a deep slumber took him.

The next time he opened his eyes, he found himself in a bed. He felt as one who had suddenly awakened from a long, disturbed sleep, though he did not remember going to bed. Then he realized that someone held his hand and looked at him with smile. Faramir returned the smile as he recognized the face.

"My lord, you called me," he spoke softly, "I come. What does the king command?"