My final act of freedom before school starts on Monday. Sorry I took so long to update, but things happened and then I decided to get some more written before I post so that I can be fairly consistant with my updating. I've now got thirty pages written.

Thanks Calenlass for being my new beta!!

Chapter 1

One year later…

Boromir lay dreaming in his bedroom the dawn of the day before his wedding.

The eastern sky grew dark, and a growing thunder sounded, but in the West a pale light lingered. Out of it a voice, far away yet clear, spoke, crying:

Seek for the Sword that was broken:

In Imladris it dwells;

There shall be counsels taken

Stronger than Morgul-spells.

There shall be shown a token

That Doom is near at hand,

For Isildur's Bane shall waken,

And the Halfling forth shall stand.

Boromir was troubled by the dream. He lay awake a long while, trying to make sense of the words indelibly etched into his mind. Faramir would, perhaps, know of some of the meanings. What troubled him most was that doom was near at hand. The doom of Gondor? The doom of what? What was Isildur's Bane? What sort of thing was a Halfling? Why did this come now, when he was to wed Sedryn today?

Frowning, Boromir pulled himself from the bed to find Faramir and tell him of his dream.

Boromir had barely managed to pull his short tunic on before someone knocked decisively on the door, three times.

"Coming, coming." Boromir thought at the door. Opening the door, Boromir was nearly knocked over as a young messenger boy shot into the room. "Milord! Sir!" he said, handing him the scroll.

"Easy, easy!" Boromir admonished. "What is it?"

"Scroll from Lord Denethor, sir. He sent it the moment he came back into the throne room. He wants you right away, sir, no delays!"

Troubled, Boromir took the scroll from the boy. "What did he tell you?"

"He told me to find Lord Faramir and Sedryn too, sir, and send them to him with you."

"I'll tell them, do not trouble yourself; go get something from the Kitchens for your trouble."

"Thank you, sir." the boy said, bowing and running off.

Unfurling the short scroll, Boromir read its contents:

Boromir, Boromir, come quickly! Bring your brother and Sedryn with you. The dream, the dream! Eru, make haste! I woke up this morning from a dream, a dream that foretells what is to come. Hasten! Tell Sedryn and Faramir to cease whatever they are doing and come, before the madness takes me again!

Denethor

Boromir's heart raced as he understood the implications of the note. So hastily was it written that the words lurched drunkenly about the page, and yet Boromir sensed an underlying need in his father's words.

Striding into the halls where he took his residence, Boromir bellowed for Faramir. Women and children alike scattered as he strode onward in search of his brother. Almost instantly, Faramir came running toward him.

"Eru, what are you bellowing about? Can't—"

"Read this." he said, thrusting the paper into Faramir's hands. "I'm going for Sedryn. Meet me in front of the Throne Room. Be prepared for anything" He said tersely.

Faramir, sputtering, took the scroll as Boromir sped off, almost running. Skimming through it quickly, he muttered a curse and set off for the Great Hall.

Boromir ran up and rapped sharply at Sedryn's door. "Sedryn? Sedryn, come quickly!"

Almost before he finished speaking, Sedryn opened the door, fully dressed but with a comb in her hand. "Boromir? What is it?"

"A note from my father, rambling and talking about a dream that may tell the future." Boromir shook his head. "He asked for the three of us, straight away, and mentioned madness. Will you come? Faramir waits for us with the note before the Throne Room. Be prepared for anything."

Sedryn nodded, turning back only to toss the comb onto her bed. "Let's go," she said, hitching up her skirts and running alongside him.

Minutes later, they skidded breathless into the room where Faramir waited, pacing with the note in hand. Wordlessly, he handed it to Sedryn.

She skimmed the note, careful not to show any emotion. They had learned to be wary when it came to spies—not even his children, it seemed, were above suspicion. "I see." she said.

Boromir took a deep breath. "Nothing for it then. Let's go in." he offered his arm to Sedryn. Two of the guards opened the doors for them.

Instead of his usual stooping, half-asleep position on the Steward's Chair, Denethor was pacing before the chair, ramrod straight. All the guards and servants had been sent away but for Norlad, who stood beside the Chair.

Boromir was drily amused to see that the copious layers of furs the Steward generally wore were strewn about like game on a hunting ground.

Denethor looked up. "There you are!" he said.

His eyes were wild with grief and fear, but to their utmost surprise the expression changed to love – love! – as he saw them, even Faramir! Yet when he came near with his arms outstretched all three instinctively backed away.

Now the expression changed to regret. Denethor lowered his hands and went back to his chair. "Forgive me." he said quietly, his eyes not quite meeting theirs. "You do right to fear me. I have not been myself for a very long time, children."

"My Lord? Father?" Boromir chanced. "You sent for us?"

"Yes. To business, that's right." The fear again flashed in Denethor's eyes.

"Children, a dream. Four Men and two Women stood alone, in different rooms. The Men bore their names stitched into a cloak that covered each from head to toe. Two there were stitched in silver on blue. The cloaks bore these names: Courage and the other, Wisdom. The other two Men had their names also on cloaks in gold upon black. I saw their names, and they were called Cunning and Strength. The two Women were held away from the Men, in isolated rooms from one another. The Women wore wide cloaks, each bearing her name. The first Woman wore a cloak with the name Healing sewn in silver upon blue. The second bore her name Honor in gold thread upon black cloth.

"Then, as I watched, Healing left her room and went into the room wherein Courage waited. After she came to the Man both removed their cloaks, and I saw that the Man was Boromir, and the Woman, Sedryn! Then darkness fell, and in the darkness I heard much weeping and clashing of swords. I waited for a time, and suddenly I saw that Honor, endued with a faintly growing light, left her room and sat with Wisdom. But only Wisdom uncloaked himself, and it was Faramir.

"Then another came, a tall Lord of Men cloaked entirely in silver. And the darkness cowered before him as he neared the rooms in which the Men and Women held together. His name was Loyalty. When he reached the first door, all of them, Courage and Healing, Wisdom and Honor, Cunning and Strength, joined hands with Loyalty, and the darkness again descended, deeper than before. I waited a time, and heard a great wrenching cry. Suddenly the darkness wavered and gave way to clean Light. When I looked, I saw that the cloaks were ragged and faded but a moment later they were replaced with cloaks more brilliant than I have ever seen, studded with all manner of gems and needlecraft. A Woman that came after, tall and glowing with a bright, moonlit light had her name shining mithril-bright, but it was a name I knew not how to read. She came and blessed them, joining with Loyalty and making him shine with greater light. In that light I saw the Crown of Elendil descend upon the Man's head. Then the dream faded and I woke."

Denethor paused to collect himself. "Sedryn, you are Healing. Boromir is Courage, and Faramir, Wisdom. It is logical to think that there are real people behind the other names, and the Last Man and the Last Woman some great people that we have yet to see. The great darkness can only mean the Last Battle, wherein there will be many tears. You will be unspeakably weary, wounded mayhap, all of you whose cloaks faded. But as they were replaced, I believe you will, in the end, succeed and be blessed. I think, children, that Gondor has poured Her remaining strength into these, in preparation for the last battle, to settle the Evil in the East once and for all."

Only Gondor? Boromir heard Faramir's sarcastic voice through their link. Careful, brother. Black and gold are Rohirrim colors, not Gondorian.

No, really? Boromir shot back through the link.

Denethor settled back into his seat, wearied yet still excited from the telling of his dream. A fanatical gleam lit his eyes. "Do you know what this means, my dears?" Not waiting for their reply, he went on. "It means that victory for Gondor is assured! After all these years of fighting the Shadow, we shall have victory because of you three! You are the Courage, Wisdom, and Healing of Gondor! Strength and Cunning, Honor and Loyalty, are coming, and together, you sons and daughters of Gondor shall prevail!"

Boromir nodded. "This is wondrous news!" he said, hoping his disbelief wasn't too obvious. "Thank you, my Lord."

What in Eru's name am I going to say to that? To deny that prophecies have been sent through dreams is foolishness, but…it has been long since father gave us just cause to trust him. What say you? He asked Faramir using the link.

Trust him now. I've had flashes of this dream, sometimes, but all I've seen are cloaks and names. Ask him about the madness he spoke of in the note. Faramir answered.

"Father." Boromir said. "We thank you for the well-wishes. But in the paper you sent you spoke of madness. My Lord, what troubles you?"

Pure, unadulterated fear shone clearly in Denethor's eyes. "Madness? What madness? Did I speak of madness?" His voice shook. "That m-must have been a mistake – on my part. Yes, simply a mistake. I just wanted you to hurry."

Boromir held out a placating hand, worried and disturbed. The dignified Denethor was nearly reduced to gibbering. "Forgive me, milord! I did not mean to trouble you." Faramir and Sedryn stepped closer, next to Boromir.

"N-never mind! Never mind. All is well. Just—Just know that I trust your judgment, all of you, and I know th-that Gondor is in good hands." The expression in his eyes settled down to its customary steeliness. "Doubtless you have to prepare for the ceremony in the evening. That is all." Denethor said. "You may go."

The allegory/dream thing was HARD to write. What did you think of it?