Okay ! Here we are ! This is my first Fanfiction ever ! My apologies for the poor expression and grammar, English is not my mother language...

Hope you'll enjoy ! And don't hesitate to tell me if there are any mistakes, I'm here to learn..! I'll try to update as often as possible, but I am a bit messy, so I can't promise anything... This chapter is mostly from Faramir's POV, and takes place in Osgiliath, just when Boromir leaves to Rivendell. Hope you'll enjoy !

Disclaimer : Unfortunately, I do not own the Lord of the Rings, everything belongs to Tolkien Estate and New Line Cinema :')

"Remember today, little brother." he told him before making his horse turn around around and galop off, disappearing into faraway and unknown horizons. Faramir turned back, facing the newly saved city but lowering his head as if defeated. A feeling in his soul kept telling him he might not see his brother alive again yet he chose to ignore it, putting it on the account of concern. He silently headed back to his tent, heart still filled with restrained fear and worry.

"My Lord ?" a voice called as he entered.

"Prepare my horse," he told Deveron, his second in command, with a voice he wanted to be as strong as possible, "I am going back to Minas Tirith." 'At least I should be free from my father for a while...' he thought. The words he had said in front of him and the whole garrison were still haunting him :

"The victory belongs to Faramir also." Boromir had told Denethor after he had joined them (or more exactly joined his eldest), to Faramir's great displeasure, and had begun to congratulate his first born, not even deining to give the youngest a single glance. Hearing his name, the young Captain had stepped forward, placing a forced smile on his lips, mostly there to thank Boromir for trying to make him gain some credit in their Father's eyes.

"But for Faramir this city would still be standing," the expected but no less sharp words cut through the air and came crashing on Faramir's shoulder like a mass.

The smile immediately left his face, replaced by tears he felt were quickly filling in his eyes. "Were you not entrusted to protect it ?" the Steward went on disregarding or blind to the obvious pain that was now in his son's eyes and to Boromir lowering his head in pure disbelief.

"I would have done but our numbers were too few," Faramir defended himself, his voice shaking ever so slightly, but Denethor dismissed him without another thought.

"Oh, too few ? You let the enemy walk in and take it on a whim."

Again, the words hit Faramir like a sharp knife piercing his chest. On a whim ? His men and had fought restlessly day and night to try and bring the enemy down. Alas there had just been too many of them. And as he had seen his soldiers being taken down one by one despite their valiant efforts, the Captain had chosen to sacrifice the city instead of his companions' life. A choice he had thought had been wise and necessary, but which Denethor considered as coward and useless.

"Always you cast a poor reflection on me." At this point, Faramir barely felt the sting of this simple sentence, managing to lock his feelings away and ignore them as he often did.

"That is not my intent." he almost whispered, forcing his chin up.

Hopefully, his dear brother, once again, tried to pull him away from his Father's neglect and discontentment.

"You give him no credit and yet he tries to do your will."

'Oh, Boromir ! What will I become now that you have left ? You are the one who was able to handle this situation, not me, I can only make matters worse. I need you, brother, much more than you know...'

As he went to take the cloak he had left on his rudimentary camp couch, he suddenly felt as though an arrow had literally pierced his chest, then another one. It was so unexpected that he involuntarily cried out in pain. He felt as though his entire torso was on fire. Looking down, expecting to see a pair of arrows buried deep into his flesh, he saw... Nothing. What... How... So many questions were crashing in his mind at the same time, but the pain was so blinding that he couldn't find any coherent answer. He felt dizzy, the entire room was spinning and he fell to his knees just as the guards rushed in, alerted by his cry, only to find their Captain apparently unharmed. They were talking to him, but Faramir couldn't hear anything they were saying. Their image was blurry... And why was he so cold ? He felt as though he was suffering from blood loss, but there was no blood...

Then again, an invisible third arrow went to bury itself deep into his torso and the young gondorian lost his battle against consciousness, absolutely unaware of what had just happened.

"They took the little ones."

"Keep still."

"Frodo, where is Frodo?"

"I let Frodo go."

"Then you did what I could not. I tried to take the ring from him."

"The ring is beyond our reach now."

"Forgive me, I did not see. I have failed you all."

"You fought bravely. You have kept your honour."

"Leave it! It is over. The world of men will fall, and all will come to darkness. And my city to ruin."

"I do not know what strength is in my blood, but I swear to you I will not let the White City fall, nor our people fail."

"Our people... our people...I would have followed you my brother, my captain... my King."

Faramir could only watch in silence as his brother's eyes became unfocused and his head fell backward. He was dead. He wanted to scream, run to him, hold him tight in his arms, to cry every single tear still held in his body, but he couldn't. He could only watch as the other man mourned on Boromir's limp form. 'My King' had he called him... Faramir couldn't see his face, for he stood right behind the man's back, a silent and unmoving spectator of the drama that had just unfolded before his eyes.

"Captain Faramir !" he heard a voice calling him from far, far away.

"Can you hear me ?"

Slowly, the dreadful scene vanished, leaving him surrounded only by darkness.

"Wake up, my Lord !"

The voice grew louder this time, and the young man felt strong hands holding his arms and others gently slapping him on his cheeks.

Slowly but surely, the young man began to lift up his eyelids, to meet one of the guard's own worried eyes.

"My Lord, can you hear me ?"

The man answered with a slow nod of his head.

"Can you see me clearly ?"

"Y-Yes..."

His voice was raspy and his throat was dry, as though he hadn't drunk anything in a very long time.

"Are you hurt, my Lord ?"

"No, I don't... Think so..."

The short sentence was more than his vocal cords could bear apparently, for he was overtook by a strong coughing fit. He felt a guard pressing a cup against his lips and a cool liquid being slowly poured in his mouth, which he swallowed eagerly.

"My thanks."

"You are welcome. Now my Lord, what happened ? You screamed as if you were under attack."

Then without warning, everything came back to his mind. Boromir. Gone. Attack. Arrows. Dead... He stood up hurriedly and asked :

"Have you made my horse ready, Deveron ?"

"But, my Lord, you are in no proper shape to..."

"Have you ?" he cut off, voice firm, but without hard feelings to it.

Deron looked hesitant but still answered :

"Y-Yes, my Lord, he is in the stables."

"Good. Deveron ? As my second in command, you are designated Captain of the Rangers of Ithilien until my return."

Deveron bowed his head and Faramir immediately rushed out of the tent and headed straight to the stables without wasting anymore time. He didn't pay any attention to the questioning looks the other soldiers gave him. His brother's life was at stake, nothing else mattered. He jumped on his horse's back, who was slightly startled by the sudden weigh.

"Menib, Sìrdal." he whispered into his ears. Immediately, Sìrdal bolted out of his enclosure, heading to the city gates.

"Faramir ! Where do you think you are going ?" he heard his father's voice call him in the distance. But he didn't bother looking behind and kept going. There was no time to lose.

"Meno, Sìrdal, meno !" he told his horse as he felt an ounce of hesitation crossing the stallion's strong body.

"Guards ! Stop him !"

But it was too late, he was already out of their reach.

Thanks to a restless ride, Faramir found his brother just a few days later. He had had to hide quite often for his father had, apparently, launched a search party for him. One of the patrols had almost caught him, once, but he had managed to lose them in the thick woods (who would have been able to track a Ranger into the forests anyway ?).

When he had found Boromir, the man was about to leave the small camp he had settled for the night.

"Boromir !" he called.

His brother turned around immediately, startled, and grabbed his sword, ready to face any enemies incoming. He relaxed when he saw the face of his brother, pale from exhaustion and concern.

"Faramir ?" he answered the call, very surprised to see his brother had followed him. "What are you doing here ?"

The younger man quickly dismounted and rushed to his brother to give him a tight embrace. His brother held him back, still not completely understanding what was happening.

"What is it, brother ? You are shaking. Did something happen ?"

"I... I saw..." he started, but paused, unable to let the words out of his mouth.

"What ? What did you see ?" his brother asked, gently, like he used to do when Faramir was having nightmares when he was younger.

"I saw you... Die."

His words were met with silence, only broken by Boromir's cry as he felt his brother's knees buckle slightly from exhaustion and probably emotion, and he wrapped his arms around him in fear he would hit the ground.

"Faramir ?"

"If you go on this quest, you will die." the younger man continued, straightening himself.

A heavy silence followed once again.

"Was it a foresight ?" Boromir asked in a low voice.

"It felt like it at least."

They paused again. Boromir knew his brother had powerful foresights and also knew them to be coming true nearly every time, for he had foreseen both their mother's death and the Council of Elrond. But it wasn't his possible death that scared Boromir, he was mostly scared for his brother... He could sense the way Faramir was so desperately clutching his armour, his tremors... Boromir was ready to face his death, but Faramir obviously wasn't and it would most likely break him.

"Don't go. Oh Boromir please, do not go on this quest. I beg you. Let me go instead"

'Oh by-' Boromir thought 'You want me to let you go and die for me ?'

Indeed, the man was afraid of what would happen to Faramir if he himself came to pass, but he reciprocally couldn't bear letting his brother sacrifice himself in order to possibly attempt to save him.

"Fara... I wish I could but I have no choice but to go. Father gave me a mission. And he needs you to be with him." he took a breath before adding "I don't want you to put yourself in any danger, I don't want you to give your life for me. I simply cannot let you do this."

"Then let me come along. You heard Father. Apparently, my uses are few, he doesn't need me. Just give me a chance to prevent this..." he retorted, voice full of resentment towards the Steward and insistance towards his brother.

Boromir hesitated for some long seconds. But eventually, he realised that whatever he might do, there would be no way to get his brother to go back home without him, and he couldn't abandon the mission his Father had entrusted him to complete...

"You protect me and I protect you, then. Fine, we'll go together."

"Thank you." his brother answered, voice filled with relief.

Menib : Let's go

Meno : Go

Whoops this turned out to be much longer than I thought... Hopefully next chapters will be shorter.