***This chapter's a little longer. There was a lot to cover! Enjoy!***

Chapter 11

Denethor nodded. "You will have a short time, Beregond. They said they want the ransom by the third sunset or my sons are dead. We have a little more than two days now, but it may not be enough. Boromir said something about them taking Faramir to Osgiliath, and that may be where they have both of them. I have soldiers searching all of Minas Tirith all the time. If they are kept in separate places, we will know it. I am placing your post in Osgiliath so it may be easier for you to work undercover."

Beregond bit his lip. "But, my lord, when Captain Ceredon hears that you have sent me, won't he be suspicious?"

Denethor looked hard at the soldier who volunteered help. "Make up something."

Beregond nodded.

Denethor's eyes spoke something that only fathers could see, something that Beregond, father for only a few months, could understand; a hate that could only be quenched if someone, the person who dared touch the child, suffered. "When you find them, report back to me."

"Of course milord," Beregond bowed. "Mithrandir," he bid goodbye.

Gandalf nodded. When Beregond had gone, he moved next to the Steward.

Denethor immediately spoke. "We both know that we do not agree on most terms, Mithrandir, but… I am grateful for your help in finding my children. I just can't believe that it has passed this way. Was I so stupid to not see anything?"

"You have only two eyes, Denethor. Even the wisest do not see every turn in life. In some cases, we never know which road is better until it is taken."

"Is that supposed to comfort me, Mithrandir?"

"Call it food for the soul."

Denethor again stared at the Pelennor fields, searching beyond the horizon for his sons. "Mithrandir, I request you leave."

There were times Gandalf admired the Steward. This was not one of those times. But he agreed, saying that he'd do more questioning, and left Denethor alone.

Denethor looked at the two proofs he had of his sons' kidnapping. Faramir's chest armor and Boromir's dagger sheath; the heirloom Denethor gave him at Induction.

He held both of them close, limping to the throne which he sat on. He held them tight.

"I haven't been the best father to either of you," Denethor lamented. "But I swear that I will see you both safely here. I've lived through this type of pain once. I will not live through it again! I've lost your mother; I won't lose you two now!"

When the guards came again, Boromir leapt up.

"Take me in Faramir's stead!" he demanded. "You have brutalized him enough, haven't you?"

Ceredon stared Boromir down. "I will not be ordered around by the pet of his father! Sit down!" he turned to the guard. "Take the youngest."

"No!" Boromir yelled. Faramir was too tired to stand. He had to be lifted.

As they unlocked Faramir's cuffs, he reassured, "Boromir, don't worry about me. They need us alive."

Ceredon slapped Faramir, a red mark appearing. "You don't tell me what I need."

"You pig! Don't touch him!" Boromir yelled. "Faramir!" He screamed as Faramir was taken down the stairs.

Ceredon threw Boromir to the side of the wall. He used the chains to bind Boromir's hands behind his back. He unbuckled his belt and gagged his superior. "You need to learn to be quiet, for your brother's sake!" Ceredon knelt down and looked Boromir in the eye. "I was going to take you, but because you were so nice about it, I took your brother instead. If you're quiet the next time, I might change my mind!"

Boromir thrashed at the chains behind him, hurling insults at Ceredon though he knew they wouldn't be heard.

Ceredon snapped, "You're just making it worse for your brother downstairs!"

The door was shut.

Boromir stopped thrashing and yelling. He leaned against the wall. More cursed tears drenched his cheeks. Faramir, I'm so sorry! So sorry! I didn't mean anything! Faramir, forgive me!

Faramir felt his hands be brought up to the suspended cuffs. They strapped him in. It was only Ceredon and another soldier, but Faramir felt the same amount of fear if it had been an Orc army.

"Alright, Faramir," Ceredon started. "You remember what happened from this morning. Tell me what I want to know."

Faramir was silent.

Ceredon coiled his fingers around Faramir's neck. "Tell me where the treasury is located."

Faramir looked hard at the captain, summoning more courage than he thought he had. "I'm surprised that my father hasn't given the location to the captain of the whole army. But no one trusts you. No one trusts someone who wants money with a bloodthirsty envy. No one trusts a devil snake!"

Faramir felt the stinging pain of a hit. It paraded across his cheek and into his nose. He felt blood trickle down.

"You have an uncontrollable mouth, just like your brother. Faramir, tell me where the treasury is, and this is all over. I will give you and your brother some fresh bread. How does that sound to you?"

Faramir's mouth watered. He longed for the crusty, moist sensation of bread. He longed for food in general. But he wiped the image from his mind.

"Having no bread is better than betraying my father and my brother."

Ceredon nodded to the second guard. Faramir was lifted from the ground as the soldier yanked on the chain. Faramir cried out as he felt something in his arm tear. His body swung.

"Now, now Faramir, you know what will happen to you if you don't cooperate. Where's the treasury?"

Faramir glanced at him. "It's underneath my bed."

Faramir felt another hit.

"Gag him!" Ceredon ordered.

Faramir let the man wedge the fabric between his teeth, knowing that he was powerless against so many things. When he felt the knot being tied around his head, he knew that it was over.

Ceredon walked around Faramir in a regal way. "Do you know what I told your father I'd do to you if he didn't pay up, and quickly? I hinted that I would kill you." Ceredon hit his face again. "If you squawk about the treasury, I'll reconsider that threat. You'll be safe, back in the mansion of your father, and I'll include some fresh bread for your return home. Just nod your head."

Faramir didn't nod. He stared at the ground.

"A man would look his enemy in the eye," Ceredon mocked. "How'd you like to explain to your father that you were weaker than an insect while here, ignoring his teachings?"

When Faramir didn't even glance upward, Ceredon hit him again. "You're a worthless embarrassment of a son. Drop him."

Faramir crumpled to the floor. His whole face was numb with pain. His arms ached. He forced himself to stare at Ceredon. The captain brought out a large bowl-like container. It was filled with water.

Faramir's eyes widened.

Ceredon mockingly smiled. "Bind his hands."

Faramir wanted to fight back, but he didn't. He knew that they wouldn't kill him.

Ceredon snatched Faramir's shirt collar. "Let's see how long you can live without breathing."

He dunked Faramir in.

Faramir held his breath. His lungs ached. He fought to lift his head up, but Ceredon held him fast. He kicked his legs and hit a body part. Something bound his feet. No, no, no! He mistakenly sucked in water.

Finally, Ceredon lifted him out. Faramir sucked in breath and coughed. He filled his lungs with the luxurious air.

"Would you like to tell me where it is now?"

Faramir breathed, closed his eyes. He wouldn't say anything.

His face felt water around it again.

Faramir refused to remember the next hour. It caused him too much pain. He was relieved when they unbound his hands and feet before they threw him back in the attic-like room.

As he was brought through the door, he longed to hear his brother's voice, but he found out, when he was chained to the wall, that his brother was gagged and bound.

"You two are going to separate locations soon," Ceredon slithered. "Better "say" your good-byes now!"

The door slammed shut.

Faramir used his hands to tear the gag from Boromir's mouth. It was tight, but he ripped it out.

"Faramir, don't worry about the chains!" Boromir protested, but his brother persisted.

Faramir couldn't pick the locks but he untangled the wrapped-around pattern across Boromir's wrists. Boromir untied Faramir's gag immediately.

"Are you alright?" Faramir asked, worried.

Boromir grasped Faramir's face. He looked into those green eyes. Faramir was wet from the shoulders up. His face was swelling. His cheek was forming a black bruise. Blood came from his nose. Faramir was whimpering helplessly as he tried to discretely rub his shoulder. He looked like he was about to cry. What did they do?

Faramir noticed the look in his brother's face. "I'm fine Boromir, I promise." He threw himself onto his brother, enjoying and treasuring the hug that came after.

Boromir kept Faramir in his grasp, hugging his shoulders. "What did they do? If it's too horrible, don't tell me…but Faramir…I need to know."

Faramir stayed where he was. His voice held no emotion. "They hit me. Then they tried to drown me."

"What?"

"I'm fine. They allowed me to breathe in between the drowning."

Boromir hesitated when Faramir stopped there. "What else happened?"

"They hit me. They yanked me back up here. Boromir, I'm fine."

Boromir brought his brother closer to him. "I just don't want to see you hurt. But now, I feel powerless to protect you.

Faramir bit his lip. His brother had always given him unconditional love. Sure, he wanted time to himself a lot, but the love for his little brother was evident. Boromir was always the one to defend him against Denethor. He couldn't live without his brother. He wouldn't want to try.

Faramir choked, "Do you think what Ceredon said about putting us in separate locations was true?"

Boromir hated saying it. "Probably, yes."

Faramir cried, hugged his brother tighter. "I don't want to leave you. I don't want to be separated again."

Boromir nearly started crying. He was almost ashamed that he didn't. "Don't worry. We'll see each other again."

"What if we aren't?" Faramir sobbed, hugging his brother with all of his strength.

Boromir made Faramir look at him. "Faramir, listen to me. We will see each other again! I promise you!"

Faramir whimpered still. Everything was being taken from him. He slowly laid on his brother and fell asleep. Boromir let him sleep there, like most big brothers would.

Beregond marched with his battalion to Osgiliath. He went over in his mind again and again what he was going to say, what he was going to do, how he was going to convince Ceredon that he was on his side. It wouldn't be easy, but he was willing to do it to bring the captors of his masters to justice.

They marched in, Ceredon watching them with a suspicious look on his face. "Why is this battalion here?"

Beregond had rehearsed his speech. Now it was time to put it into practice. "Lord Denethor ordered us to regroup in Osgiliath. We need to prepare for an oncoming Mordor Orc attack."

"Where did he get the impression of an Orc attack?"

"The Steward knows what to expect. The Orcs will move to attack Osgiliath and then Minas Tirith. He knows that we are the final standpoint against the Orcs. They will come."

Ceredon nodded. "Form your ranks! Keep a sharp eye out."

The many guards marched to their posts. The pairs of eyes on the brave men were all on one thing; the mountains of Mordor, expecting an attack.

But Beregond's eye was watching another target. Captain Ceredon and a few other soldiers, a few acquaintances of Beregond, gathered in a tight corner. They were discussing something, something that Beregond was nearly sure about.

He needed time to get Ceredon to trust him, but he didn't have time. Boromir and Faramir could be anywhere in the city. Boromir would not so carelessly give up on escape unless he was in considerable danger. Faramir was a strong boy, small, but strong. He would fight for his life honorably, as Gandalf had said.

When Ceredon left the men, Beregond discretely followed him. Lord Denethor had told him to lie, and lie he would, but he would also keep the oath he swore when he became a soldier. He would fight for his lords' survival, to the death.

"Captain Ceredon!" Beregond called as he raced after his superior.

Ceredon turned, looking annoyed yet concerned. "What is it, Beregond?"

Beregond inhaled. This would take skill. "Thank you for standing up to the Lord Denethor as you did. Our families are starving and that snake doesn't consider it worth anything."

Ceredon twitched. "Since when have you been known to hate Lord Denethor?"

Beregond answered hotly, "Ever since he became Steward."

Ceredon almost chuckled. "Then you are a better actor than most soldiers in the service. You should have been the jester. That still does not answer my question. Why do you hate Lord Denethor?"

"He is Lord Denethor. Is there a reason?"

Ceredon evilly smiled. "I like you. You're timid, but I like you as a soldier. Many people hate Denethor."

"Sir, I'd like to be of help, in any way I can."

"With what?"

"Your stance suggests that you are planning something against the Denethor. I'd like to help."

Ceredon eyed him. "Would you?"

Beregond was outwardly calm while, in his soul, he was horrified at the stare. "Of course I would. I am a soldier of Gondor as well."

Ceredon laughed wickedly, almost a chuckle that spoke of seeing right through his associate's eyes. "You may be a soldier, but I still need to know your willingness to help."

Beregond nodded, not sure if his captain was leading him to the princes or not.

"Swear it."

"Swear what?"

"That you will help me!"

Beregond kept his face straight. He couldn't swear that he would help Ceredon. He would be betraying his Steward and princes. He formed his words carefully, "I swear to you that I will do my duty to the best of my ability."

Ceredon nodded. "Alright, then you fight for liberation."

Beregond nodded. Of Boromir and Faramir.

Ceredon ordered, "Come to me at sunset. Meet me at the second house down the fifth street."

"What is the plan, captain?"

"You will find out when you meet me there at sunset. If someone comes in Osgiliath saying that what Denethor needs to do is done, the plan will be forfeit, but I will still need your help. You will get your share of the reward. You can buy your little boy a toy, get yourself more food."

"Thank you."

When Ceredon left him, Beregond looked down the street in question. He'd have to wait to free the boys if they were even there. For all he knew, he was transporting eggs and ham.

This would require patience, and he didn't have much time.