Letters from Faramir
A Missive and its Reply
'Yet between the brothers there was
great love, and had been since childhood, when Boromir was the helper
and protector of Faramir. No jealousy or rivalry had arisen between
them since, for their father's favour or for the praise of men. It did
not seem possible to Faramir that anyone in Gondor could rival Boromir,
heir of Denethor, Captain of the White Tower; and of like mind was
LOTR - Appendix A -
(iv) Gondor and the Heirs of Anárion
He picked up the letter again and re-read the page that was filled with
the beloved scrawl that was Boromir's handwriting.
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 armour - 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 was 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 ends 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 what the plans are 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,
He 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 the 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.
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.
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 oak box that held his important papers;
Boromir's letter he put in his tunic pocket, and then quietly left the