Sorry it's taken me so long to update, I got temporarily distracted by some other projects.

Lots of angsty brother stuff in this chapter, which shouldn't be too much of a surprise given where we are in the story. Please let me know what you think!

Chapter 15

The three walked to Boromir's room together, Boromir and Morloth entering while Beregond took his post outside. As they seated themselves, Morloth asked anxiously, "Boromir, what happened to Duinor? He looked so upset after your father walked in on us."

"I sent him home. He was distraught, having convinced himself that he was somehow to blame for Father's actions no matter how often I assured him otherwise. I'm not sure what he thought he could have done." Boromir stroked his chin thoughtfully, "Bashing Father over the head with a poker would have been impractical, despite how tempting it must have been."

Morloth choked back a laugh, "I do believe you say such things to shock me, Boromir."

His eyes crinkled with amusement, "And you giggle so prettily when I do, my lady."

Her face fell and she asked him, "Boromir, after Faramir was summoned by your father, what did you mean when you said you 'should have known'? Known what?"

"Another damnable ploy of my father's," he growled in response. "Whenever I fight with him it's always Faramir that's punished for it. He's given the dirtiest, most thankless jobs, told what a worthless son he is, and next time Father sees me, he'll pretend like there were never any harsh words between us. I swear, Morloth, it's diabolical! Father knows I'd much prefer that he take his anger out on me and have done with it, which is exactly why he targets Faramir instead. It is rarely so overt that I can protest Faramir's treatment, but I know why it's happening and Faramir does too." Boromir shook his head, his face bleak, "And Faramir just takes it; never says a word against me for landing him in it again, which makes it worse."

"Oh Boromir, that's horrible!" Morloth cried, "Why does your father hurt you both like that?"

He put his head in his hands, "I wish I knew, Morloth. He's been trying to drive a wedge between the two of us for as long as I can remember, and the fact that it doesn't work seems to spur him to even more cruelty." He pulled her close, "But Father wasn't always like this. He was a good and loving father to both of us, but when Mother died, he changed, and I don't know why. It's as if his love for Faramir died when my mother did, but…that makes no sense, Faramir is far more like Mother than I am! I don't understand why he can't love Faramir, or at least just let me love him as a brother should."

Morloth reached up to gently touch Boromir's face, "But you do love your brother, and Faramir knows that. I'm sure that it's comfort to him knowing that you'll take his side no matter what your father does."

"I suppose," Boromir sighed, "I just wish I could do more."

They sat together for a while in silence, until there was a knock on the door. Boromir opened it to find Faramir, his face set.

Boromir paled and asked anxiously, "What did he say, Faramir? What is it?"

Faramir met his brother's eyes, "The Lord Steward feels that my withdrawal from Osgiliath was…premature. He commands me to gather a force to retake it—he thought a few hundred men should be sufficient. I'm to leave early tomorrow."

Boromir was so dismayed that he flinched and staggered, grabbing a nearby chair for support. "What?" he stammered, "But you were under orders to withdraw, my orders! He knows that! How can he criticize you for following orders?"

"That didn't seem to matter," Faramir responded dryly.

"Retake it with a few hundred? There must be five thousand orcs on the west bank by now, and there will be more by morning. And that's if they haven't begun their march to the city, which could happen at any moment."

"Father did allow that we might have to harry them on the march and fall back to the Causeway Forts," Faramir added sardonically.

"Harry them?" Boromir asked contemptuously. "Perhaps if we had Théoden's thousands it might be worthwhile, but with a few hundred? You might as well try to stop a flood with a willow branch!" His face set, "No. It is madness. I will not allow him to throw lives away like this—throw your life away like this! This order will not stand."

"How can you prevent it, Boromir?" Faramir asked gently, "He is your commander as well."

"It is my responsibility to decide the disposition of our forces, and he has made a rash and dangerous decision without consulting me. If I cannot make him see reason and agree to withdraw this order, I…I will call the Steward's Council and put the question to them."

Faramir's eyes widened and he blew out a long breath. "Father won't like that."

Boromir grinned fiercely, "He'll hate it. He'll hate being seen at odds with me, his chosen general, and he'll hate having his commands scrutinized by the Council even more."

"The Steward's Council is aptly named, brother," Faramir replied skeptically, "they very rarely go against his will."

"I'm hoping they won't have to; he may agree to rescinding or changing the order rather than have it discussed openly. But if it comes to that," Boromir shrugged, "Uncle Imrahil will support us and he may sway some Council members if we cannot. At the very least it may delay your departure until a time that anyone can see that the order is pointless and wasteful."

"Boromir, I appreciate what you are trying to do, but Father seemed to have his mind made up. I would not pin any great hopes on him deciding to change it," Faramir responded cautiously.

"Then I will make him change it," Boromir said confidently. He held Faramir at arm's length and met his eyes, "Faramir, I have stood aside too long and watched Father bully you, demean you, and punish you for my failings. I will not let him needlessly risk your life and others just to prove that his will prevails."

"Brother, that is not true! You have always taken my part with Father," Faramir countered urgently. "You cannot blame yourself for his actions!"

"I could have done more, I'm certain of it. And this time, I will," Boromir said resolutely. "Let me do this for you, Faramir; this time I will not fail you."

"You have never failed me, you great idiot," Faramir said with fond smile. "But if you are determined…"

Boromir pulled him into a rough embrace, "I am." Releasing his brother, he continued, "I will go to Father soon, and then find you when I know better how the land lies. But first," he turned to Morloth, "we must see you safe for the night, my lady."

"Oh, Beregond can see me back to my room, Boromir. I will be fine."

He stared at her thoughtfully, "I would have thought so, but this news of Beregond's has me unsettled. Tomorrow, the Houses will be bustling with people and you should be safe, but tonight I am not so certain."

"Surely Father wouldn't try to harm her, Boromir!" Faramir protested.

Boromir growled softly to himself, "I hate to think so, Faramir, but still…" He stopped abruptly and crossed to the door. When he returned, Beregond was with him.

"We were just discussing, Beregond," Boromir explained, "how I might be occupied for some hours on business with the Steward, and that the part of the Houses where Morloth is staying is very isolated and lonely at night. Given what we discussed earlier…"

Understanding flared in Beregond's eyes, "Oh, aye, my lord." He turned to Morloth, "I've been remiss in telling you, Morloth, how pleased Aerin was on hearing you are in the city. She'd love a visit from you, and if we leave soon we'd be in time for the evening meal. We can even stop by your room and pick up a few things for the night."

"Beregond, I can't possibly show up at your door expecting to be put up for the night! I won't impose on Aerin like that."

Boromir put his arm around her waist, "Morloth, once the wounded start coming in tomorrow, you know you may not have another chance to see your friends for days." He reached up to gently touch her cheek, "Besides, it would ease my mind if you go, I'd know you were safe."

"I could send Bergil to ask Cirlan to join us for our meal, Morloth; then you'd have a chance to spend time with him as well," Beregond added.

She looked from Boromir to Beregond and back again, shaking her head in exasperation. "You two! It seems I have very little choice in the matter," she commented, a smile creeping across her face.

"That is certainly how I would read the situation," Faramir noted dryly.

"It's settled, then," Boromir said decisively. Beregond and Faramir adjourned to the hall to let Boromir and Morloth say their goodbyes in private, and when Beregond and Morloth had left, the two brothers met to say their own farewells.

"I don't know how long it will take, Faramir, it depends on if I can make Father see reason or whether I have to call the Council together for an emergency meeting," Boromir told his brother as they were parting by Boromir's door. "But I'll come to you as soon as I know anything."

"I'll be expecting you, then." Faramir shook his head, "I just wish I could be as optimistic as you are, Boromir."

Boromir grinned, clapped his brother on the shoulder and said heartily, "Have a little faith in your big brother, Faramir!" With a wave he was off, down the corridor leading toward the Steward's quarters.

Faramir sighed and headed back toward his own rooms, murmuring, "You are not the one who has earned my lack of faith, Boromir."

-ooo-

Gandalf and Pippin were up early the next day at what should have been daybreak, but Sauron's fume of darkness had covered the city sometime in the night, heralding the arrival of his armies. They made their way through the gloom, first seeking Boromir at his command post on the third level. Surprisingly, he was not there, but from that vantage point Gandalf noted men massing near the gate on the first level.

"It appears that a large force is readying for departure at the gate," Gandalf mused. "Odd, Boromir mentioned nothing of that sort as being planned for today when last we saw him. I wonder what the reason could be." He turned to the hobbit, "Come Pippin, either Boromir or Faramir should be there and can explain."

As they neared the gate, Gandalf stopped a soldier hurrying by on an errand, and asked, "Why are these men gathering? What is their purpose?"

The soldier met Gandalf's eyes, his face grim, "Captain Faramir leads a force to retake Osgiliath, Mithrandir. They are to leave momentarily."

Gandalf's hand tightened on the man's arm and he cried, "What? Who ordered this?"

The soldier looked alarmed and shrugged helplessly and Gandalf released him with a growl of frustration, "Boromir knows better than to spend men in this way! Why withdraw them only to send them back? We must find Faramir!"

"Gandalf," Pippin asked worriedly, "yesterday Boromir said that half of Sauron's armies are crossing at Osgiliath and readying themselves to march here. How can they hope to retake it?"

"They cannot," Gandalf snapped, "it is absurd to try! Boromir understands that; he ordered the withdrawal because he knew it would be impossible to hold them there. But to attempt to retake it from so massive a force is utter madness." He pointed, "Look! Faramir is at the head of the column. Now we will have some answers."

Pippin alone would have had trouble negotiating the mass of men around the gate, but they parted for the angry wizard as he made his way toward Faramir. Already mounted and ready to depart, Faramir turned when Gandalf called his name, "Faramir! Why are you doing this? Who ordered this folly?"

Faramir's face was set and expressionless; he replied, "The Lord Steward commands me to retake Osgiliath."

"The Lord Steward? What of Boromir? I cannot believe he would agree to this!"

A flash of pain crossed Faramir's face. "Boromir disagreed; last night he vowed that he would have the order withdrawn, but he did not—or chose not to."

Gandalf stared at Faramir in dismay, "Chose not to? I do not believe that and neither should you! What did he say?"

"I do not know; I have not spoken to him," Faramir said stiffly. "Perhaps he had something better to do, or found that he agreed with Father after all."

Gandalf reached up and laid his hand on Faramir's, his voice softening, "Boromir would not just abandon you to your fate, Faramir. You know that."

Faramir's shoulders slumped, when he met Gandalf's eyes his face was bleak. "When he left to see Father he promised to come speak to me before the night was over. He never came. I went to his room early this morning, but no one was there." He glanced away for a moment before speaking again, "What can I do, Mithrandir? The Lord Steward has given me a lawful order; I cannot ignore it simply because Boromir promised to have it rescinded. It has not been, and I am duty-bound to obey." He reined in his horse and called for the men to assemble before saying, "Excuse me, Mithrandir, we have tarried long enough."

Gandalf stood motionless, his face drawn and old. He said imploringly, "Faramir, what your father asks of you is madness—do not throw away your life so rashly!

When Faramir turned toward Gandalf again, he was smiling gently, "I go to defend the city I love and its people, Mithrandir. There are worse fates than to lay down my life in that cause."

Gandalf gazed at him sadly, "There are those that love you, Faramir; Boromir, and your father as well. He will remember it before the end."

He sat down heavily on a nearby bench. Pippin joined him and together they watched the men stream through the gate.

Finally Pippin spoke, "Gandalf, it doesn't sound like something Boromir would do; breaking his promise to Faramir like that."

"Indeed it does not, Pippin," Gandalf agreed. "And I refuse to believe he would have done so of his own accord. Something must have happened to prevent it, but what? And where is Boromir?"