Faramir Fiction Archive

Letters From Faramir (G)

28 April 2010 | 16713 words

Letter Three –

His men found him sprawled on the gravel beach. They looked for signs of injury, but found none. Yet, he seemed as one dead. The company’s healer was sent for as soon as they reached the cave. The man, after examining Faramir, shook his head and called for honeyed wine. When it was brought to him, he gently forced it into his Captain’s mouth. He smiled as Faramir’s eyes cleared. “Glad I am to see your eyes focused and color returned to your face, Captain.”

Faramir looked about him. How had he come here, he wondered. Where…? But then he knew, smiled sadly at the healer, rose and strode to his quarters. He flung the curtain aside and stepped in, closing the bedraggled drape behind him.

He stood inside, shaking. Nothing he could do. The vision was still before him, if vision it truly was. He cupped his face in his hands. Is there to be no respite from this horror that began with the blowing of the Horn? he groaned. The letter seemed to bore a hole through his heart. He reached into his pocket and drew it forth. I will return, it said. Yet, Faramir was certain Boromir would not. He did the only thing he could do – walked to the map table and wrote.

Brother,

I have seen something that turns my blood into cold rivers coursing through my body. A knife buries itself deep in my chest – the pain is beyond all knowing, all-telling. I cannot breath.

A boat has shown itself to me, drawn down our beloved Anduin – a boat the like of which I have never seen. Artfully made with beautiful lines, yet sunk deep in the water. She shone with a pale light not of this land.

I feel myself drawn again to that moment…

I step closer and find myself in the cold water of the River, pulled towards this strange craft. I know not why. My limbs shake; my breath catches. There is something in this boat; something that I do not want to see. Some horror lies in it, but I must look!

Brother! No! It is you I see lying in the bottom, water from the river lapping your cloak. Your body – it is wrapped for mourning. Your sword in your hand – broken. Arrows lie at your feet. A strange belt shines on your waist. Your face is wounded; blood stains your raiment. Your eyes are closed. Never have I seen your face like this! Never have I thought to see your face like this! For in the midst of death is beauty. The pain is unbearable.

He stopped writing, lowered his head, laid it upon folded arms that rested on the table, and sobbed. The candles burned their own tears, dripping little globules upon the table only inches from Faramir’s hands. After some time, he lifted his head, wiped the tears from his cheeks, and wrote again.

Boromir, Boromir – what is this? What has happened to you? Will you not return to me? Is all lost for Gondor, for your people, for me? Am I now alone to battle both the Enemy and Father?

You promised to return. Now I am assailed with the thought that you will not. I have been given this vision for some purpose. What? I do not know. Thoughts of our mother fill my head, my heart. Are you with her now? Will I never see you again? Is there peace there, Boromir, where you now dwell?

Whatever happens now, my Brother, know that I love you, as I know you love me. Know that my heart will be with you always, no matter where this journey takes you. I am your dearest brother, staunchest friend. I will do whatever I can to defend our people, your people, but I will miss you. How can I endure this?

Tears fell again and obliterated the words he had written but he continued on.

Even in death you will not leave me. Be at peace, Son of Gondor, we will see each other again.

Faramir

He fell from the table in a swoon. The crash brought his men, who gently laid him on his cot. One, left to guard him and bolder than the rest, read the written word and wept.

Restorer’s notes: This letter was the most difficult of the first few to reconstruct. There was much water damage.

NB: Please do not distribute (by any means, including email) or repost this story (including translations) without the author's prior permission. [ more ]

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