"So you managed to get away?" Faramir asked.
"I stayed", Solatiri said. "I stayed with Boromir until the very end."
"And now you are expecting his child."
"Your niece or nephew", she nodded. "I need your help."
"Anything", Faramir said.
"Your father wants to take the child when it's born. He says I do not deserve to keep it."
"He has no right to do that. It is your child."
"I know", Solatiri said. "But Denethor is the most powerful man in Gondor. You know his temper. He can get anything he wants. Right now he wants the only thing I have left of Boromir."
"He won't get the child", Faramir said. "Don't you worry."
Solatiri smiled as she hugged Faramir.
"Boromir and I planned to wed", she said. "I wish we had. Then I could call you my brother."
"You can", he said. "I already consider you my sister."
She smiled as she pulled away.
"Come. Denethor's expecting us in the throne room."
"No doubt to discuss punishment for my actions. I let Osgiliath fall into the hands of the enemy. Father wanted the Ring of power and when I had it in my grasp, I let it go."
"You did the right thing, Faramir. That Ring is no help to Gondor."
The two of them walked down the hallway into the throne room where Denethor was waiting. Pippin sat waiting to be summoned.
"It will only take a moment, Pippin", Solatiri said patting his head. "Be patient."
"This is how you would serve your city?" Denethor asked angrily. "You would risk its' utter ruin?"
"I did what I judged to be right", Faramir quietly answered.
Denethor was angry and disappointed that Faramir let Osgiliath fall. He was angry that he did not bring the Ring to him, even after giving the task to Boromir. In Denethor's eyes, it was nearly an act of treason.
"What you judged to be right? You sent the Ring of Power into Mordor, in the hands of weak less Halfling! It should have been brought back to the Citadel to be kept safe. Hidden…dark and deep in the vaults, not to be used…unless at the uttermost end of need."
"My Lord, you do not understand the severity of the Ring", Solatiri said. "No one can control its power."
"Silence!"
"I would not use the Ring", Faramir said. "Not if Minas Tirith were falling in ruin and I alone could save her."
"Ever you desire to appear lordly and gracious as a King of old", Denethor scoffed. "Boromir would have remembered his father's need. He would have brought me a kingly gift."
"Boromir would not have brought the Ring. He would have stretched out his hand to this thing and taking it he would have fallen."
"You know nothing of this matter!" he shouted.
"No, but I do!" Solatiri said. " I saw the way he was tempted. He would have kept it for his own, and when he returned you would not have known your son."
Denthor got up almost as if to attack Solatiri and Faramir.
"Boromir was loyal to me! Not some Rohan wench and a wizard's pupil!"
He suddenly stumbled backward, falling into his chair. It was almost as if an invisible force pushed him away. Faramir stepped forward concerned.
"Father?"
Denethor looked up and with reasons unknown, he smiled. He looked past Faramir to see something. Solatiri looked behind them to see nothing there. The only thing that could make the man smile was but a mere memory.
"My son!" Denethor said with a smile.
Faramir frowned knowing Denethor could not be speaking of him. Denethor stood as his mind wandered to what could've been. In the back of the hall he saw Boromir smiling. He cried tears of joy as Boromir approached him with one last smile before he disappeared, leaving Faramir in his place. Denethor's smile turned to grief and anger.
"Leave me."
"Faramir", Solatiri frowned.
"I will be alright", he assured her as he turned and left.
Faramir opened the door to see Pippin still sitting on the bench and began to talk to himself.
"What were you thinking Peregrin Took?" he asked. "What service can a Hobbit offer such a great lord of men?"
"It was well done", Faramir said. "A generous deed should not be checked with cold counsel. You are to join the tower guard."
"I didn't think they would find any livery that would fit me", Pippin said looking in disbelief.
"It once belonged to a young boy of the city. A very foolish one who wasted many hours slaying dragons instead of attending his studies."
"This was yours?" he asked gesturing his new uniform.
"Yes, it was mine", Faramir smiled. "My father had it made for me."
"Well, I'm taller than you were then. Though, I'm not likely to grow anymore, except sideways."
Both of them laughed, the feeling and sound well-needed to both of them.
"It never fitted me either", Faramir said. "Boromir was always the soldier."
He stopped and frowned as he remembered his and Boromir's childhood.
"They were so alike he and my father. Proud, stubborn even, but strong."
"I think you have strength of a different kind", Pippin said reassuring him. "And one day your father will see it."