Faramir Fiction Archive

The Last Story (PG)

Written by colonelduckie

29 December 2007 | 1035 words

Title: “The Last Story”
Author: colonelduckie
Archive: Faramir Fiction Archive
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Faramir, Boromir, Findulias, Denethor, (some) Imarhil
Rating: G/PG
Genre: Gen
Warnings: Angest?
Word Count: 1021

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Winter 2983 – Finduilas held her new born son in her hands, with her five-year-old son holding tightly on to dress daring not to leave her side. They walked down the long corridor into a large open room where the Steward; her husband, and her boy’s father sat.

“Denethor” she said to him with a pleasant smile.

“Father!” called the oldest son, Boromir. He ran up to his father to give him a hug. Denethor picked up his son and placed him on his lap. Finduilas sat in a seat by her husband holding the sleeping Faramir in her arms.

This was the picture of a perfect family. Nice and happy.

Spring 2988 – Faramir was out side in the garden. There were not many flowers left for the colder weather would soon be upon them, but he tried. His mother was sick and he wanted to see her smile again and she loved flowers. In his small hands he clasp and small bouquet of flowers. Pleased with what he had chosen. Faramir ran to the Citadel to give his mother his present. Up the stairs of Minas Tirith he ran. “Faramir, where are you going so quickly?” Inquired his elder brother. “To mother!” he replied without stopping.

“She is sick do not annoy her. The healers and father will get angry if you disturb her.” “It’s okay. I have a present for her!” He reveled the small bouquet of flowers; most of them have long since bloomed. Many lost their peddles and had broken stems. Boromir looked at them for minute and then smiled. “She will love them” he said with a smile. He knew how much they meant to his brother he did not want to break this heart and point out the shape they were in.

He soon reached the room where is mother laid. He knocked quietly and the pushed open the door slowly. “Hello-” His voice trialed off as he saw, his mother laying there asleep.
“It’s okay Faramir you can come in,” she said softly just has he was about ready to leave. Slowly he made it towards her bed, with the flowers behind his back. “Mother, I have something for you.” When approached her bed side he took the flowers out from behind his back. Smiling he presented them to her. “They are beautiful Faramir,” she said “I love them.” She returned a weak smile, and rubbed his hair. “Come sit with me.” cautiously he climbed up onto the bed. He looked at his mother. “I remember,” she started “when Boromir and I got sick from playing in the rain that day you read us a story, and took care of us.” He took a deep breath before he continued. “I haven been practicing my reading. Would you like me to read to you?” He rubbed his hands nervously in his hands. “I would love it.”
“I will be right back!” Faramir smiled as he leaped off the bed. “What shall I get?” he asked before he left. “All I want is a happy story.”
“Okay.” And Faramir left and the door shut behind him.

Faramir ran down the hall and to the library and browed for a book that held a happy story. When he returned to his mother her eyes were closed. “Mother,” he said softly “I have a story.” Slowly she opened her eyes, and smiled weakly. Faramir climbed back onto the bed and began to read. When ever he stumbled on a word his mother would help him out. “The end!” he said finally after reading the story. Still stroking his dark hair, she looked at him with tears in her eyes. “Why are crying?” She sighed. “Because, Boromir and you are growing up so fast.”

Though he did not know this would be last time he would see his mother alive.

Faramir was woken up by his brother early the next morning. His grey eyes were sad. “Last night,” he started. There was a lump forming in his trough and tears were flowing out of his eyes. “Last night,” he repeated not wanting to finish the sentence, hoping that if he did not it would not be true. “What?” Faramir inquired not getting worried. “Mother—Mother” he was sobbing now
“Oh, Faramir, mother is dead!”
“NO!” yelled Faramir “SHE IS NOT DEAD! I saw her last night. She was fine!” he flew out of his bed. “Faramir!” Boromir called as he ran after him. When they reached her chamber there were many servants and some healers. Denethor knelt by his wife’s bed holding her lifeless hand and crying. “Mother!” Faramir called bursting into the room. He was soon stopped by uncle Imarhil. Faramir tried to break free of his grip. Tears were flowing down his small round cheeks. Boromir was kneeling next Imarhil and Faramir. Faramir struggled and then stopped. He turned and buried his head in his uncle’s chest.

Two days later was cold and raining. Also the day they were laying Finduilas to rest. They stood at her grave Boromir was holding Faramir’s hand and Imarhil had a hand on each of the boy’s shoulders. There was not a dry eye, for Finduilas was loved by everyone.

When the ceremony was over Faramir stayed kneeling by his mother. From under his cloak he pulled pages from a book. Crying he laid the pages on top of her grave. “I—I—” he sobbed “I thought you would like to take this with you.” With the back of small hand he rubbed his eyes.

Imarhil watched the entire seen, fresh tears rolled down his eyes. “Come Faramir,” He called “Lets go inside before you get too cold and wet.” Faramir somberly followed his uncle to the Citadel.

When the pair arrived a meal in memory of Finduilas was being served. Faramir removed his wet cloak and placed it near a fire. The he felt a new one being placed over his shoulders. It was his father placing and cloaked much loved by his mother over his youngest son’s shoulders.

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