Letters from Faramir
His men had found him sprawled on the gravel beach. They looked for
signs of injury, but found none. Yet, he seemed as one dead. The healer
was sent for as soon as they reached the cave. He had shaken his head
and called for honeyed wine. When it was brought to him, he gently
forced it into Faramir's mouth. He was gratified to see the eyes focus
and colour return to his Captain's face.
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
curtain behind him.
He stood, 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 was begun 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 sure Boromir would not. He did the only thing he could do -
walked to the map table and wrote.
I have seen something that turns my
blood into cold rivers coursing through my body. A knife buries itself
in my chest - the pain is beyond all knowing, all telling. I cannot
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
I step closer and find myself in the
cold water of the Anduin, 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 and laid it upon folded arms that
rested on the table, and sobbed. The candles burned their own tears,
dripping onto the table. After some time, he lifted his head and wrote
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
You promised to return. Now I feel
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
Even in death you will not leave me.
Be at peace, Son of Gondor, we will see each other again.
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 cried.