Chapter 2

Faramir had returned from Edoras not long ago, while his intended, Éowyn of Rohan, had remained with her brother, where she would stay until her wedding. Maedhros had been introduced to the new steward of Gondor and found him to be a quiet man not predisposed to war, but not as incapable at it as his father had made him believe; he was intelligent and open-minded, the most important characteristics to learn; and although he had been quietly amazed at the parade of elves he had so recently been introduced to—Maedhros deduced that, as a child, Faramir had admired the elven race and painted them as a glorious picture full of unattainable wisdom—he had not sunken to mindless fawning. In the end, he was no longer a child and judged the elves he met with a keen eye. Maedhros had seen the realization in the man's eye regarding his identity when they were introduced, but that knowledge had not hampered Faramir in their dealings.

"Prince Nelyafinwë." Faramir bowed. "My King Elessar has already told me that you would speak to me about a mission."

"Indeed," Maedhros replied, taking the chair on the other side of the Steward's desk. What, if anything, had changed in the room since Faramir's father had died, he did not know; it did not suit the man. Maedhros had a small idea of what it was like to succeed to a position one had never believed to attain. It had come to his own father's mind rather late that their journey to Middle-earth and presence there were highly perilous, and that he might very well die and should thus prepare his heir for that time.

"Has the King given you any details?"

"No, your Highness."

Maedhros hummed, studying the man with a close eye. That Faramir's father had succumbed to using the Palantír, one forbidden to him, did not speak well for him, but Faramir was said to have shown more courage in the face of his enemy and, most importantly, more wisdom even for his relatively young age. And besides, the man would not be with him to actually use or even touch the Palantíri himself.

"King Elessar has asked my help with the Palantíri, which, as I'm sure you know, were made by my father. We discovered signs that the Seeing Stone which was long ago kept in Osgiliath was not permanently destroyed but rather… lost in the Andúin where it still appears to be. You know that area like no other." Maedhros paused.

Faramir had straightened in his chair, and his expression had turned from pleasantly polite to stern seriousness.

"You are to come with me to retrieve it, if that can be done," Maedhros finished. He unrolled the drawing of the scene he had seen and laid it down on Faramir's table. "This is what I saw of the Stone's surroundings. Perhaps you know this place, or if you don't, we will travel as far down as the sea to find it. The Stone is not far from the surface of the water. It would be detrimental if it fell into any hands other than ours."

"I see," Faramir said gravely. He studied the drawing intently, closing his eyes from time to time as if to recall memories buried deep. Finally he sighed and shook his head. "I'm not completely certain, but this does not appear to be big enough to be the Andúin itself."

"I agree. It has to be a creek flowing into the Andúin or something of that nature. A smaller tributary which is perhaps not even mentioned on the large maps of the river."

Faramir frowned. "Those maps should have been corrected long ago. Some of the smaller creeks only developed in recent times."

"And it was not deemed to be of import even for the military?" Maedhros asked with raised eyebrows.

"No," the man replied shortly.

"Since you are Steward now, it would be within your competencies to ensure that the maps are corrected. But that is a different matter. I ask you, Faramir, will you come with me to search for the Palantír?"

"Aye, I will," Faramir replied without hesitation. "How many men do you plan to bring with you?"

"A small group will suffice. The fewer people know of our mission, the better. The Palantíri are not a child's toy, as recent events have shown. I need people to protect me in particular when I search for it with one of the other Seeing Stones that we have gathered. In case its position has changed or to see more of it, I will take one with me, and I am nearly defenseless when I look within it. You will act as my guide and trusted right hand. Especially seeing as I lack it, I have need of one." Maedhros smirked.

Faramir nodded, not showing any humor at the joke.

"I will serve you as I would serve my King," he promised.

"Then choose a group of fifteen to twenty of trustworthy men who are willing to come with us and be ready with them two days hence."

The group that Maedhros found himself leading was a mix of rangers and cavalry soldiers. Faramir made no comment on how easy or difficult it had been to find men willing to come with them. Maedhros had heard that Faramir was beloved by his people, and where an elf went, Gondorians were eager to go along to get to know the–to them–strange race. They were all men of duty, however, and although some seemed very young, they all behaved with respect towards him and made no attempt to annoy him.

Maedhros had more important things to do anyhow. Maglor had, as agreed, stayed behind and bidden him a temporary farewell with Arwen and King Elessar. One of the Seeing Stones was safely stored in Maedhros' saddle bags. For today, their first day, they would not get very far down the River and not reach any tributaries, according to Faramir. The night they planned to spend behind the ruins of Osgiliath, and then Maedhros would look within the Stone again to see if he could catch sight of the missing Palantír's position.

Maedhros had wanted to see the former capital of Gondor, not least because that was where the Palantír had gone missing, so they did not go south straight away but took the north-eastern road to the ruins of Osgiliath. Although some months had passed since the battle, death still seemed to hang in the air. Faramir and his men became quieter and grave the closer they came to the former capital. No doubt every single man following him knew at least one person who had fallen here.

"We are in no great hurry," Maedhros said quietly to Faramir. "We can stop here to honor and commemorate your fallen brothers."

Faramir looked ahead with a painfully still face. Then he nodded, and Maedhros had an idea that the young Steward was making this decision more for the benefit of his men than himself; but he had not lost any less than they.

They dismounted and hobbled their horses at an appropriate place. Then they walked into the maze of broken Stone. The orcs had taken no small amount of the walls and bricks for their siege machines. Even the heads of their comrades who had fallen here, Maedhros knew, had been launched into Minas Tirith to increase the fear of its citizens.

The bodies of men and orcs had been removed, for burial or burning. Many of them for the latter unless retrieved by their family in time; the entire Pelennor would have had to be turned into a graveyard to give everyone their own resting place.

Maedhros gave the men space for their grieving and walked through the former streets and buildings on his own nearby. He had walked here before when Osgiliath was still whole, but that was so long ago that much had probably changed before it had been destroyed. He did not know what King Elessar planned to do with the ruins. Perhaps, hopefully, he would restore the city to new glory. Even without having known the men who died here himself, not even knowing how many there had been exactly, Maedhros knew enough of war to have more than an idea of the carnage that had been wrought on this once proud city. It grieved him.

A song came to him from long ago, which Maglor had played after the Nirnaeth to remember their dead. Maedhros began to sing.

No Daeron, nor Maglor or Finrod was he; but most, if not all elves, had an at least passing voice, and he, too, had received lessons in music and singing in his youth. As Maglor's brother his performance had never been asked for. But there were instances were such things did not matter. This was one of them.

He continued walking as he sang, eventually reaching the place where the Anduin cut through Osgiliath. Here, the men had made their last stand before abandoning it. He did not need to be told that; he knew by the signs that remained even after many months. Words of Quenya flowed from his lips to a melody one did not need to know to recognize it as a song of mourning.

From the corner of his eyes he saw Faramir where he had not been before. The man crouched on the floor and dug one hand into the sandy ground. If he cried, the redhead did not see. He finished the song.

They left Osgiliath as planned and took not the Causeway which would lead them back to Minas Tirith, but instead followed the river directly and camped for the night where the wall Rammas Echor met the Anduin. The men were almost completely silent, lost in thoughts and memories. Faramir and Maedhros sat not far from them together, although they did not speak for a long time until Faramir said:

"Osgiliath is still the city of the dead. Few other places are as sad as that one, save perhaps the Dead Marshes. Frodo, the Hobbit, spoke to me of them, where men and elves and other creatures are forever buried in the swamps; there are lights there which lead travelers to their death. I hope that Osgiliath will not attract such lights."

"I myself have fought in those Marshes. I have felt no need nor desire to return hence, so I do not know where those lights come from. Frodo was very brave to go through the Marshes. I have lived in Middle-earth for many centuries, but even I did not see the strength that Gandalf saw in the race of hobbits. We have much to be grateful for to Gandalf, Frodo, Sam and also the others who went on the quest; including your brother. He showed great courage and a strong heart when he went on the quest even though he was not convinced by it. I know what it's like to lose a brother. I'm sorry for your loss."

"Even after such a long time, does it still hurt like a burn to have lost your brothers? I won't have as much time as you, your Highness, for my pain or my memories to fade."

"The memories don't fade. The pain… it will no longer be as sharp as it is now. You will remember the many happy hours, the joy, your childhood together, and even the sad hours, but all that time spent with your brother won't fade. You will always grieve his absence. But there will be a time when you will be able to see past the grief and find joy in the memories that you have of him."

Faramir drew in a stuttering breath. Maedhros rose and went to lie down his bedroll to sleep. Before he slept, he took out the Palantír and looked within it. He found the Seeing Stone they were looking for, but no new sights came to him.