Faramir Fiction Archive

Letters From Faramir (G)

Written by Alcardilmë

28 April 2010 | 16713 words

Letter One – A Missive and its Reply

Faramir picked up the letter again and re-read the page filled with the beloved scrawl that was Boromir’s handwriting.

Little brother,

Finally – we will leave Imladris – tomorrow! I have chafed at this forced delay. I see Minas Tirith in my mind’s eye and I feel a fire coursing throughout my body, so great is my need to return to Her. I have no hope that I will be bringing aid to Gondor – but I must hope.

So much has happened. I will not bore you with my journey to this place. Suffice it to say, it took longer than I had thought. I lost my horse at Tharbad and, therefore, had to walk the rest of the way. Thankfully, I did not wear my armor – it would have been a very hard walk. I did not find this place myself, though. Elves – yes, Faramir, truly – Elves found me wandering and brought me here.

Would that you were here with me! Your poet’s heart would drink in the beauty that is this place and spew out words befitting it. Alas, all I see is decay. It echoes the deterioration of our City, Faramir. Yes, there is beauty, but there are also empty buildings, fallen archways, and deserted paths. Dust covers the floors of many of the houses here. I have heard whispers that the Elves are leaving, abandoning Middle-earth. I cannot understand this – how could anyone leave their home? Even if Minas Tirith were in shambles, as Osgiliath is, I could not leave Her.

Forgive me – this was not the purpose of my writing. There is something here that haunts me. Perhaps it is the decay, but I think not. Faramir, I have found It. Further I cannot say, except that It is that which was hinted at in our dreams. I cannot speak plainly – this missive might fall into the hands of an enemy; however, I do not have It in my possession. How may I explain this? It is in the hands of a periannath – a Halfling. I would keep this from you for you hold me in such high esteem – but I find myself shivering at the thought of it.

And, Faramir, it seems the heir of Isildur will travel with us. Us – yes, there are nine of us, chosen by Elrond, Elf Lord. The others are of no consequence. Those that concern me are Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and Frodo, who carries It. I dare not write the plans for this Frodo, plans of the Council that had assembled here. Suffice it to say, my hope is that we will turn towards Gondor. I will hope that with my dying breath, Faramir.

This quest has become tangled and complicated. You know what I want – to bring help to Gondor. I do not now know if that is possible.

I have sent a missive with some news this day to Father, but have told him nothing of what actually happened in the Council. I hope to speak with you before I report to him. I would avail myself of your wisdom.

As I said, tomorrow we leave. Soon, we will be together again. I look forward to that. Keep the fires burning. I will return soon,

Boromir

Faramir leaned his head back against the cave wall. Tears glistened in his eyes. He had long ago ceased to hope for word of his brother. What? It was past six months since Boromir had left Gondor.

The men milled about the cave, staying away from him, giving him his privacy, as much as could be given in Henneth Annûn. The roar of joy at the bringing of news from their Captain-General had quickly turned to unease as Faramir’s expression turned from one of happiness as the missive was handed to him, to a frown as he silently read it.

He stood up and walked towards the opening by the falls. Leaning his hand on the cold, spray-wettened wall, Faramir stood, unseeing, heart heavy. Finally, he turned and strode back into the main cavern.

“Men,” he called and they crowded about him. “Our Captain-General is chagrined. He is not bringing an army with him as he had hoped. You know what it is like to be around him when he is chagrined!”

Faramir’s smile made the men laugh. In truth, they all knew Boromir’s moods well and were grateful they were not with him at the moment.

“He still holds hope in his heart that he will bring help. So, let us continue our preparations for the battles ahead. He left… In December, he turned his head towards home. He should arrive here very soon. Now, to your duties.”

With that, he walked to his alcove, pulled aside the curtain that separated his area from the main cavern, and stepped inside. Immediately, his shoulders sagged. After a moment, he walked towards the map table and pulled out writing paper.

My Brother,

The errand-rider has arrived with your missive. I cannot understand all that you write. So simple a note, yet something in it chills my very being. I will not rest easy until you are standing by my side again. If time allows, I will go to the Great Library and try to find out something about the periannath. I had hoped to do so since you left, but Father has been in one of his moods and keeps me here.

I understand that Mithrandir has been to see Father since you left, and I grieve at not having been able to speak with him.

He smiled

I know, you would tell me to stay away from the wizard, but he knows so much, Boromir.

Enough of that.

A heavy sigh escaped him.

Let it suffice to say, Brother, that I miss you. My heart is heavy, but I now have a piece of you. I will keep your letter close till I have you close. Duty calls.

He did not sign it, just sat and looked at it for a moment. Finally, he folded it and placed it in the lebethron box that held his important papers. Boromir’s letter he put in his tunic pocket, and then quietly left the room.

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