Faramir Fiction Archive

The Golden Sun (PG-13)

Written by colonelduckie

08 January 2008 | 1627 words

Title: The Golden Sun
Author: ColonelDuckie
Character(s): Faramir and Boromir
Rating: PG
Genre: Gen
Warnings: none

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The Golden Sun

It was growing dark, they were hopelessly lost, and the rain was coming down harder than ever. Faramir squinted his eyes to try and see threw the rain, he sighed. “We are almost home,” Boromir insisted. Faramir moves the hood of his cloak back slightly so that he could get a better look at his brother. “You don’t know where we even are,” moaned Faramir.

“Don’t worry Fara—”

“You told me that you knew the way back. You told me that I should get out of the library more often. You—” the rest of his sentence was cut off by a loud clap of thunder. “Stay behind me” Boromir ordered to his younger brother. In the quick flash of lightening they saw that they were surrounded by Orcs. Boromir drew his sword, Faramir nervously followed suit.

Faramir had only been practicing sword fighting three week earlier, even though he was twelve, Boromir though it was good idea for him to learn how to wield a sword. There clank of metal on metal, Faramir took another step back, he backed into the neared Orc. Faramir gasped, he attempted to run back. Before he knew it Faramir felt his hands being forced behind hind his back and bound. He attempted to yell to his brother but a cloth was being tied around his mouth as well.

Faramir attempted to kick free from the grip if the Orc. His foot made contact with the Orc’s shin. Just then Faramir felt a warm liquid running down his arm, the Orc had stabbed him. His scrams were muffles because he was gagged. Fighting was still going on it was one on at least a dozen. “Faramir!” Boromir yelled over his shoulder. “Faramir!”

The thunder grew louder. Faramir prayed that his brother okay. He attempted to call out to him gain, it was no use. Just then Faramir felt his feet leave the ground. One of the other Orcs picked up a broken tree limb and cracked it over Faramir’s head, they carried him off.

Boromir called to his younger brother, but all that he could hear was the rain falling harder than ever. Boromir just had to look for his brother, he loved him, he could not leave him alone, he just had to protect him form danger, he had to it was his job.

When Faramir woke he was in a dark and wet cave with his back to slippery wall. Faramir tried to move to see what was going on but he felt shooting pain from where the blade pierced his shoulder, an now his head was soar too, he vaguely wondered why. When his eyes adjusted to the darkness he noticed that Boromir was not there. Where was he? Faramir thought to himself. Maybe he went to look for dry wood…

After what seamed like hours he knew something was wrong. Something has to be wrong; he was just here fighting the Orcs. Faramir took a deep breath and tried to stand, his head felt like it was going to split open. Why had the Orcs untied him? He remembered that much.

Faramir gasped. He knew where he was, may be not the exact location. He knew he was with the Orcs.

“…If this is the Son of the Steward, where is the horn?”

“He did not have it”

“The Son of the Steward always, has the horn of Gondor!”

Faramir’s green eyes widened. They though he was next in line to be Steward of Gondor. Had they not seen Boromir and the horn of Gondor, which he took great pride in? What are they going to do with me? Kill me? Force me lead them to Boromir? Or even—. He did not want to think of that. He closed is eyes, to shake of the though of betraying Gondor.

“Where is the Horn of Gondor?” Denethor demanded.

“Boromir had it—”

“Why did Boromir have it?” his father was outraged “you are the next Steward of Gondor, not Boromir”

“But—but—” Faramir stammered. “Where is he with it?”

“I do not know, I do not know where I am—” Before he could finish his sentence Boromir walked slowly in the Great Hall. Denethor immediately headed towards the sneaking Boromir. “Where is the Horn of Gondor?” he demanded.

“It is—”

Faramir woke up with a start. He was sweating. And breathing heavily. It was just a dream.

He lost him; while their father was away Boromir had one job, watch Faramir. That’s it. And he failed to keep his young brother safe. What made the Orcs leave I wonder? It was almost morning he had been looking for Faramir for nearly two hours, but he had no luck. Their father was due home in two days time, as long as the two of them were home, unharmed harmed they would be fine. I do hope he is alright. Boromir slumped down next to the nearest tree and put his head in his hands. “I need to find him!”

I need to get back. Boromir is probably worried, and father… His thoughts trailed off when he thought of his father. If only it was me who was next in line for the Stewardship, then maybe father would respect me more. Maybe when I learn to fight better and then I can defend Gondor instead of watching Boromir. It hurt to think of his brother, could he already be dead? If he were he would be greeted with open arms by their mother. A tear rolled down his cheek. He hardly knew is mother, he was only five when she died. She smelled of lavender he reminisced. He sighed. I must find a way out of here.

Faramir attempted to stand again, his head was still hurting, but he stood anyway, he was not bound so he was free to move. He steadied himself against the wall with his good arm. The more he walked the sicker he felt, his head was burning now, he put his hand on his head and feel blood. More blood. I already lost some with the wound to my arm. He sighed. I must keep moving I need to find a way out. Just then he heard a loud banging. Orcs. He moved his right hand slowly and shakily to the handle of Boromir’s old sword. He could barely see two feet in front of him. His breathing became heavy, the foot steps of the Orcs grew closer, he drew his sword swiftly, and he shut is eyes and swung. Bang! He heard the sound of metal on metal, he made contact.

He swung again. But the Orc was quick he blocked Faramir’s blade form hitting him for a second time. There were more foot steps. Two more Orcs came up behind him, but he was ready. Faramir barely moved out of the way. From what he could tell the cave was shallow, he could see a small dim light at the end of the cave. The outside, I’m closer now. With every swing or block he took a step back. He was close now. The Orcs have not noticed his plan.

After a few sings Faramir took a deep breath, he head was throbbing and his arm had gone numb. This did not matter; all he wanted to do was to get out.

“Get the imposter” Faramir hear. Imposter? Is it because I am not Boromir?

He made a run for it while the Orcs backs were turned to listen to the speaker. He stumbled a little; his head wound was getting to him. I must get out of here. The Orcs ran after him, the light was getting brighter and closer, he could almost reach it, he could smell the fir trees outside, and the lavender, oh how lavender reminded him of his mother. I can do this. Then in font of him he was a figure, a woman, with his eyes, and golden hair. Mother? He slowed down. She turned her back and walked away. “Mother!” he yelled.

Boromir followed the muddy Orc foot steps. The rain had stopped, it was morning. The golden sun was rising above the tree line. Everything looked golden in the sun light, the sun was reflecting off of the raindrops, it was beautiful.

Faramir was running clumsily after the woman who appeared to be his mother. “Mother!” he called again. He reached his hands out to her. She stopped.

Boromir walked slowly looking at the trees around him, and then he stopped. Amongst the beauty was a dark cave. He must be there! Boromir ran toward the cave.

Faramir went running clumsily after her. And then smack. He had hit something, or someone. He slowly got to his feet, when he looked up his mother was gone, but there was beautiful sunrise, it was golden, the trees shimmered in the early light.

It took a moment for him to realize who he had run into, it was his own brother. “Faramir!” Before he knew it he was in his brother’s embrace. “Are you ok—” he stopped when he saw the blood on his sleeve and down the front of his shirt. “Are you okay?” he could say it this time. “My head” Was all Faramir could say, the golden sun was spinning around him, he fell into the heather at his feet.

When Faramir woke he at the at home, in his own bed, with his arm and head bandaged. He could see threw the window the golden sunrise he had seen a few days before. It was then he realize, it was his mother waking him up.

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