Memories: the original version. Part one

[wtiger5]

So this is my first attempt at LOTR fanfiction. I am currently updating it on the fanfiction.net site but wanted to preserve the original as well. Feel free to leave contructive criticism.

Memories

A soft breeze filtered through the open window as the early morning birds began singing. Eowyn slowly woke and stretched, memories of the night with her new husband bringing a smile to her lips. She rolled over to see his side of the bed empty. She propped herself up on one elbow and glanced around the room. Faramir's rooms in Minas Tirith were a bit smaller then what she had had as the king's niece in Rohan, but already she felt at home. Of course it helped that Faramir had captured her heart as well.

"Good morning, my beloved." Her husband's quiet voice startled her from her musings.

"Good morning." She answered her smile widening as he came around the corner. His bare chest made her heart race as much as his gentle smile. He turned slightly to drop the towel he was carrying onto a nearby chair, and Eowyn gasped slightly as his back came into view.

Faramir turned back towards his wife at the sounds. Her eyes were wide with shock and a slender hand covered her mouth. He quickly crossed the room and took her in his arms. "I'm sorry, my love." He whispered. "I forgot you didn't know."

"How….what….where did you get those scars?" Eowyn looked up at him trying to put her shock into words. She knew he was a soldier but that didn't look like any normal battle wounds she had ever seen. It looked like he had been savagely beaten.

Faramir's eyes turned sad as he slowly answered. "Most of them came from my father."

"Your father?" Eowyn couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Everyone raved about how caring and gentle and good Faramir was. She couldn't imagine him doing anything to deserve such treatment. "But why?"

"Because I wasn't Boromir."

"Your brother? Why should that matter?"

Faramir sighed softly as his arms tightened around his wife. "Father wanted me to be just  like him, and I'm not. I never have been." He leaned back against the headboard of their bed and looked down at her face. "I'm sorry. This is bothering you, isn't it."

"No, I just can't understand how anyone could hurt you like that. Everyone seems to love you."

"Everyone except the one person I wanted to love me the most."

"Tell me."

"Are you sure you want to hear?"

Eowyn gently brushed his cheek with her fingertips. "I want to know everything about you, my love."

Thirty five years previous

Five year old Boromir bounced impatiently from foot to foot. He couldn't wait to see his new baby brother. His mother had laughed when he told her that and had asked him how he knew it was a boy. His answer had been that he just did.

"How much longer?" he asked Ioreth one of the newest leeches to the Houses of Healing.

"There's no way to know little one. These things just take time."

"How much time?"

"I don't know, child." Ioreth laughed at the little boy's persistence. Boromir was known both for his stubborn streak and his lack of patience. She ruffled the boy's dark curls affectionately. "But as soon as the babe is here, I will let you know."

"It's going to be a boy." Boromir said confidently.

"So you keep telling everyone." The baritone voice that belonged to Boromir's father, the Steward of Gondor sounded from the doorway behind him. "And you were right, my son." He knelt down to the child's level, allowing him to see the newborn baby in his arms. "Meet your little brother, Faramir."

Boromir looked down at the bundle in his father's arms. Fine strands of dark hair were visible under the blanket. Suddenly the tiny face turned towards him and two sets of gray eyes met. The little boy was instantly enthralled with the tiny baby and held out his arms.

"Please can I hold him? Can I hold my brother?"

"Come." Denethor led his firstborn into the room he had just exited. Finduilas, the boys' mother, lay exhausted in the bed. Her labor had been long and difficult, but her eyes smiled at her son.

"You were right, Boromir. You have a brother."

"Can I hold him, Mama?"

"Of course. Denethor, help him." Finduilas patted the bed next to her and the little boy joyfully scrambled up beside her. His father handed him the baby helping him to support his head. Just then the infant began to fuss slightly. His older brother instinctively rocked him back and forth.

"Shh. It's ok, Miri." Boromir whispered. "It's ok."

"His name is Faramir." Denethor said sternly.

"Oh, Denethor, let the boy be. If he wants to call his brother Miri, then let it be a nickname between the two of them."

Denethor's stern face softened as he looked at the love of his life. She could always break through that stubbornness he so often projected. He smiled at her. "As you wish, my love." He turned and left the room, leaving his young family behind.

Present

"So that's how you got that nickname. I've often wondered." Eowyn smiled.

"I've outgrown it for the most part, but there's still a few who still call me that. And Boromir very rarely called me by my name. Usually it was 'little brother" or 'Miri'. The only time he used Faramir was when he was talking about me to someone else or he was trying to get my attention quickly." The corners of Faramir's mouth turned up at the memory. "It used to make Father so mad that he did."

"Why would he be upset over a nickname?"

"Because to him, it was a sign of weakness. And Father couldn't stand any sort of weakness. Especially after Mother died."

"How old were you when she died?"

"Five. Boromir was just shy of ten."

Thirty years previous

"Miri. Miri, wake up." Five year old Faramir sleepily rolled over as his older brother shook him awake.

"Why? What's going on?" He rubbed his eyes as he sat up, then he realized his brother was crying. "What's wrong?"

"It's Mama. You need to come with me right now." Boromir handed his younger brother some clothes as he slid off his bed.
"Boromir what's wrong with Mama?"

"Just come with me little brother."

Faramir hurried to keep up with his brother's quick strides. Even though he was only ten, Boromir already towered over most of the boys at the Citadel. He paused at his mother's bedchamber for the younger boy to catch up. He took his bother's hand as they both went in. Finduilas had always been fair, but her skin was even paler, ravaged by the fever that wracked her body. Denethor sat silent and cold as the leeches and healers fussed over his wife. His normally stern face seemed almost like stone. An unknown fear tugged at Faramir's heart. A fear he didn't understand.

"Boromir?" he whispered hesitantly. "What's wrong with Mama?"

His brother sighed before looking down at him. "She's really sick, Miri."

"Is she going away?"

"I don't know little brother."

"But, Boromir?"

"I don't know anything, Miri. I just know Mama begged me to bring you to her." Boromir quickly put his hand over his brother's mouth as their father cast an angry glance their way. He helped his brother climb up next to their mother as the healers stepped back to give them a little privacy.

"Mama?"

"My little jewel." Finduilas murmured. A weak hand reached up to brush Faramir's unruly bangs out of his eyes. "I love you, my son." Tears formed in her eyes.

"I love you too, Mama."  The little boy's gray eyes were also moist as he responded to his mother's emotions.

Finduilas waved to one of her maids, asking her to take her younger son from the room. She caught Boromir's hand as he turned to follow his brother. "Promise me something, Borormir." Her voice was getting weaker by the moment. "Promise me you will protect your brother. Especially from your father. He doesn't understand him and he never will. Faramir is going to need you, Boromir. Promise me you'll take care of him."

"I will, Mama."

Faramir sighed again as he looked at Eowyn. "Boromir had no idea how prophetic her words were. She died within an hour and Father never recovered from her loss."

"He blamed you?"

"In a way. I didn't know at the time, but Mother had trouble with her labor with me and she was never strong. Boromir said that she never got her strength back after I was born and then when she died, Father turned his grief on me."

Eowyn felt like her heart was breaking for a woman she had never known. The wistful sadness in her husband's voice touched her deeply. She realized how lucky she was to have memories of her parents and uncle. Even though her childhood hadn't been the happiest with the deaths of both her mother and father, she was at least secure in the knowledge that she had been loved. She sat up and kissed her husband's cheek. "You don't have to tell me any thing more if it hurts to talk about it."

"It's almost a relief to talk about it. I just don't want to hurt you."

"You're not." Eowyn assured him. "When did he start hitting you?"

"Shortly after my sixth birthday. I was missing Mother and I sneaked into her room. After her death, Father had left everything just as it was. There was a portrait of her on the wall that I loved and I would spend hours just looking at it. It helped me to not forget her. Anyway this time he caught me."

Twenty nine years previous

"What do you think you are doing?" Faramir whirled around to see pure rage in his father's eyes. He quickly tried to scrub the tears from his face.

"I'm sorry, Father. I was just…" the little boy's sentence was cut off as Denethor gripped his arms, shaking him violently.

"Not as sorry as you will be if I ever catch you in here again." The Steward's hands were like bands of steel on his young son.

"I'm sorry Father." The child cried out as his father's fingers cut into his arms. "Father, you're hurting me." He yelped as his father backhanded him across the face, and then dragged him from the room. He was firmly marched down the hall and shoved into his own rooms.

"You'll go to bed without supper tonight." Denethor slammed the door shut, locking the boy inside. Faramir slid down the wall, wrapping his arms around his knees. His face was starting to hurt and he felt his nose bleeding, but he was too scared to move. He knew his father had a temper, but it had never been directed at him quite like that. Tears came and he wept deeply.

Boromir hurried down the hall towards his own rooms. His father had been unusually distant and grumpy at dinner. That, combined with the fact that his brother wasn't there, made him wonder if something had happened. A confrontation had been brewing between the two for weeks now and Boromir was afraid that he had finally failed at preventing his father from going after his brother. He slipped inside his room then listened at the connecting door to see if he could hear his brother. He turned the knob, softly calling his brother's name as he did so. "Miri?" He stepped inside the room, closing the door behind him. "Miri, where are you little brother?" He glanced around the study then continued on into the bedroom. "There you are." He smiled at the sight of Faramir lying on top of the covers, asleep. His face was tear-streaked and turned towards the wall. Suddenly Boromir's eyes narrowed at sight of bruises barely visible under the sleeves of his brother's short-sleeved tunic. "Miri?" He sat on the bed next to his brother. "Miri, wake up."

Faramir knew his brother was there, but he kept his eyes closed hoping if he pretended to be asleep long enough that his older brother would leave him alone.

"I know you're awake, little brother." A smile crossed Boromir's face. He gently touched his brother's shoulder turning him on his back. "What?" he gasped at the left eye that was swollen almost shut and the dried blood on his face.

"Are you mad at me?" Faramir whispered.

"Of course not! What happened?"

"Father." The single word came out as almost a whimper.

"Why?"

"I don't know. I was looking at Mother's portrait and he caught me and he started shaking me and he was hurting me and I told him and then he slapped me and locked me in my room." Faramir's words tumbled out in a breathless rush.

"Why didn't you come get me?"

"I was scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Of him. Of what he'd do if I wasn't in my room, like he told me."

Present

"That was just the first of many beatings I got from Father. He escalated from using his hands to a leather strap as I got older."

"Why didn't Boromir stop him? I thought he was your protector."

"He tried. We learned quickly that it was better if he didn't interfere."

"What do you mean?"

Twenty-seven years previous

Thirteen year old Boromir turned at the sound of his name. His younger brother was almost running down the hall towards him. "Hey little brother, what's the rush."

"Some of the boys are going riding. Can I go with them, please?"

"Did you ask Father?"

"He's in a meeting."

"Did you finish your studies for today?"

"Yes."

Boromir laughed at the look his brother gave him. "Alright, I'll let Father know. You just make sure you're back in time for the evening meal."

"I will." Faramir scampered off to join his friends as his older brother continued towards the training grounds. A couple of hours later, he put down his sword tired and sweaty from the workout.

"You're doing well Boromir." Madril one of the teachers complimented him. The man was known to be one of the best swordsmen in Gondor, one of the reasons he was also part of the elite group known as the Ithilien Rangers. "You'll be defeating everyone if you keep this up."

"Thanks, Madril." Boromir grinned. "Have you seen Father?"

"I think I saw him leaving the council chambers just a few minutes ago."

"Thanks." The young man hurried to find his father and let him know his brother had gone riding. He glanced into his father's study to find it empty. After several more minutes of fruitless searching, he headed back towards his own chambers. As he entered the room, a voice from his brother's room made him realize he was too late. He hit the door on a run to see Faramir lying face down on the bed and his father standing over him. Red welts were visible on his brother's back.

"You rode off with out permission."

"No, Father. I asked Boromir." Faramir was doing his best to keep the tears out of his voice.

"You're a liar." Denethor brought the leather strap down on his younger son's back.

"Father, he did ask me. I've been looking for you for about an hour to tell you." Boromir spoke frantically from the doorway. "He didn't leave until I told him he could."

Denethor's cold eyes focused on his older son for a brief instant before he looked back at his younger. "So, you convinced your brother to lie for you as well."

"No, Father." Fear was evident in the boy's voice. "I'm not lying about anything."

"He's not lying, Father." Boromir came to his brother's side. "He doesn't deserve this punishment." He said firmly meeting his father's gaze head on.

"I'll decide when punishment is deserved. Now get out of the way Boromir."

"Father, this isn't right!" Boromir gasped as his father literally shoved him sideways and he stumbled into the doorframe. He lay there stunned as his father struck his brother several more times before stalking to the door.

"If you ever have your brother lie for you again, you'll be in worse pain then you are now. And you'll get no supper tonight either." Denethor slammed the door shut behind him. Boromir waited a moment to make sure his father was really gone before taking his brother in his arms.

"You promised!" Faramir wailed into his shirt. "You promised you'd tell him."

"I couldn't find him. He got out of his meeting and he was gone. I didn't find him till I got here." He pulled back to look at his brother's face. "I promise you Miri. I could not find him."

"He thought you lied for me. Why didn’t he believe me?" Faramir buried his face against his older brother as the tears began again.

"I don't know little brother." Boromir glanced at the ugly welts across his brother's back. "Some of those cuts look pretty bad. We need to get you to a healer."

"No."

"But Miri"

"No, Boromir. They'd start asking questions and then Father would be even madder."

As much as he didn't want to, Boromir realized his brother was right. And it would mean his father would probably whip his brother again. "Ok. Listen I'm going to see if I can get some salve or something to put on your back. I'll be right back ok?"

Faramir nodded as he tried to stop crying.

"Go wash your face, little brother." Boromir hurried out of the room and headed for the Houses of Healing.

Present

"He actually accused you of making Boromir lie for you?" For the second time that morning, Eowyn was shocked beyond words. "Even if he didn't believe you, why didn't he believe Boromir?"

"I've asked myself that question so many times and the only answer I can find is that he didn't because I was involved. Father was suspicious of everything I did." Faramir shrugged. "I never understood half of what was going on in Father's mind." His gaze turned out the window. The city was waking up and already a chorus of voices rang from the courtyard outside. His wife followed his look and chuckled as she guessed the direction of his thoughts.

"We need to get up soon don't we."

"I don't think anyone would be put out if we're not too visible the second morning after our wedding." Faramir remarked with a mischievous twinkle in his gray eyes.

"And just what were you thinking of to fill the time?" Eowyn asked him in the same playful tone.

"Shall I show you, my dear?" He bent his head and kissed her soundly on the mouth.

"Well if you put it that way, most certainly."

A couple days later, Eowyn was already in bed when Faramir joined her. "Your meeting ran late." She said quietly as he changed into sleeping clothes and slid under the covers next to her.

"I'm sorry. There's just so much to do, trying to rebuilt not only Minas Tirith but also Gondor." He smiled at her. "Why aren't you asleep?"

"I wanted you to tell me more of your story." She said simply.

Faramir's gray eyes twinkled. "Surely you don't want to know more of how Father treated me."

"Yes, I do. It's part of what has made you who you are."

"Very well." He pulled her closer to him. "Where did I leave off?"

"When you were eight."

Twenty-six years previous

Boromir looked up as the connecting door between his rooms and his brother's opened. Faramir's thoughtful face peeked around the corner. "Hi, little brother." He greeted his nine year old brother. "What's wrong?" he asked as the boy stood there quietly scuffing his shoe on the floor. Silence stretched between the brothers for several long moments before Faramir finally answered his brother's question.

"What if it's not enough?"

Boromir was confused. "What do you mean? What if what's not enough?"

"Knight's training. What if it's not enough for Father to love me? Even if I'm the best student in the class?"

His older brother sighed as he put aside the book he was studying. "Oh Miri. Come here." He patted the bed next to him. "Come here." He put his arm around the younger boy. "Father loves you. He just doesn't know how to show you."

"He can show you. And he doesn't hit you." Faramir whispered softly. He bit his lower lip to keep from crying. "What did I do wrong?"

Boromir sighed. It was the same question his brother had asked him every time he was beaten. "I don't know, Miri. I wish I did." He smiled at his younger brother. "I do know that you're going to be the best page in the Citadel."

"Next to you."

"I'm not a page anymore. I’m a squire so you can't be better than me." Boromir kept his face straight but his gray eyes danced teasingly at his brother.

"Is that what you think?" Faramir grinned back, before grabbing one of the pillows from his brother's bed and swinging it at his sibling.

"Oh is that the way you want it?" He retaliated quickly. Both boys were laughing and wrestling around when suddenly Boromir froze. His sharp ears had caught the sound of heavy footsteps outside the door. "Wait." He listened for a moment then whirled around to his brother. "It's Father. Get to your room." Faramir scrambled off the bed and raced for the connecting door. "Wait, wait, wait. There's not time. Get under the covers and act like you're asleep." The younger boy had just barely gotten settled under the blankets and closed his eyes when Denethor came through the door.

"Boromir…" his father's sentence trailed off as he took in his younger son sleeping in the bed."Why do you baby him?" he asked harshly.

"Why do you deny him?" Boromir asked back. "Father, Faramir does everything you ask him to and yet he can never please you. You demand perfection from him and you won't accept that he gives you his best."

"Your brother will never amount to anything like you will. You are the pride of Gondor." Denethor said dismissively. "I'm simply trying to teach him his place."

"By beating him? Father you treat your horse better than you treat your own son!"

"It will make a true man out of him. Now enough talk of your brother. Tomorrow, I want you to join me in the council chambers. I've already arranged for you to be excused from your classes." He turned to leave. "Get some rest tonight. Good night, my son."

"Good night, Father." Boromir waited until the door had closed behind his father and his footsteps had receded before turning back to his brother. He could tell by the way that the younger boy was curled up that his father's words had hurt him. "I'm so sorry, Miri." He pulled his brother into a hug. Silent tears were running down the younger boy's face.

"I told you he hated me." Faramir could not longer hold back his sobs.

For once Boromir had no answer for his brother. He could simply hold him and try to comfort him as best he could. Finally the crying slowed and he started to calm down. Boromir went and dampened a rag from the pitcher in the corner of his room. He gently wiped his brother's face and nose. "Shh." He handed Faramir the cloth then went to his brother's room, returning with his sleep shirt. "Here, you can sleep in here tonight."

"Are you sure?" Faramir softly asked as he changed his clothes

"Yes. I'm sure." Boromir changed as well. "I don't care if Father thinks I'm babying you or not. You're my brother and I made a promise to our mother."

Present

"It must have hurt you a lot to hear your father say that." Eowyn said softly.

"Yes, it did." A half smile touched Faramir's lips. "But I had already learned that Father favored Boromir over me. It helped that Boromir loved me. His love took some of the pain away, but it was still hard."

"Were you ever jealous of Boromir?"

"No. I knew it wasn't his doing."
"So what was your father's reaction when you got up the next morning? I’m sure he wasn't happy about you sleeping in your brother's room."

"We never found out. That night Boromir and I were taken for ransom."

"You were what?"

"We were taken prisoner."

"How did someone sneak into the Citadel and take you from your chambers?"

"It was an elaborate scheme."

Later that same night

Faramir shifted slightly in his sleep. He slowly woke sensing that someone else was in the room. Suddenly his eyes opened wide as a hand was clamped over his mouth and a knife blade was pressed against his throat.

"Wake your brother." A soft, sharp voice whispered in his ear. The pressure from the knife increased as he hesitated. "Wake him now!"

"Boromir." His voice was shaky. "Boromir." He repeated a little bit louder. His brother stirred slightly. "Boromir!"

"Miri?" Boromir blinked sleepily at his younger brother. He gasped as he realized Faramir was being held by his hair with a blade at his throat. He reached for his sword hanging near the bed.

"Don't." The man holding Faramir hissed, tightening his grip on the boy, eliciting a soft whimper. "Unless of course you want your brother to die."

Boromir relaxed, but his gaze remained alert. "What do you want?"

"You and your brother. Now get dressed." He threw a shirt and a pair of breeches at the young man. Once Boromir was dressed, two other men in the livery of the tower guard came out of the shadows and tied his hands. Faramir was then pulled from the bed and given clothes as well. His wrists were also bound and the two boys were taken out into the hallway. Boromir was trembling both from anger that someone had penetrated the defenses of the city as well as from his helplessness at seeing his brother used as a pawn.

The little group exited out into the cool night air where two more men joined them.

"Put them in the wagon."

"There's no way for you to get us out. The guards will search every wagon that leaves at night."

The man who appeared to be the leader smiled thinly at the young heir. "And if you do anything to help them discover you, you will feel my wrath." He dropped the back of the wagon to reveal a secret compartment in the floor of the wagon. Faramir was boosted inside and his brother climbed in beside him. They felt the wagon begin jolting over the cobblestones in the street as it slowly approached the gate. The voice of the guard was muffled through the wooden floor they were lying beneath. Boromir bit his lip, wanting to call out and alert his father's men, yet his need to protect his brother held his voice silent. The heavy gate slowly creaked open allowing the wagon through, their hope for a rescue diminishing as the distance from city increased. The drive seemed to take forever in the pitch blackness of the wagon. Boromir couldn't tell if his brother had fallen asleep or if he was just still from fear of their captors. Suddenly the wagon stopped and the trapdoor was opened. One of the men roughly yanked Faramir out of the space and stood with a drawn sword in his hand. The meaning was clear enough and Borormir slowly joined his brother in the clearing. Several other men came through until there were nearly a dozen gathered around them. "Let's go. The alarm will be raised soon and we need to be a long way away from here." The man guarding Faramir lifted the boy onto a horse then swung up behind him. Another horse was brought to Boromir. "Get on." He slowly obeyed pulling himself up with some difficulty since his wrists were still tied. Once they were all mounted, the group disappeared into the woods.

Present

"You were betrayed by tower guards?"

"Two of the men were guards. The rest were either smuggled in or stole uniforms." Faramir shifted slightly to look into his wife's eyes. "I don't remember a lot of what happened after we were taken into the woods. And I don’t remember being rescued at all."

"Why not?"

"Because I was hurt badly enough that I almost died."

"Is that where some of those scars came from?"

"Yes."

Two days after the kidnapping

It had been two days since the boys were taken and the Lord of the City was in foul mood at the lack of news. He assembled several groups of his elite Rangers and sent them out in search of his sons.

Boromir sat with his back against the tree and his wrist tied with a rope that went around the trunk behind him. Faramir sat cross legged nearby, tied the same way. He had his eyes closed but his brother knew he wasn't asleep. He hadn't said more then two or three words to their captors and Boromir was proud of how his brother was standing up to them in his own way. As darkness fell, the two brothers were given a small piece of bread apiece and a few sips of water. Soon Faramir really was asleep mostly from sheer exhaustion. Boromir however was wide awake. His mind was racing with options to try escape. The problem was he didn't know how he could get free in time to also free his brother before the guards caught them. The threat the leader of the kidnappers had given them when they were placed in the wagon was also running through his head. He didn't want to find out what the man would do if he was crossed. Suddenly the soft voices of some of the men reached him. He listened intently as a bit of an argument erupted.

"I don't see why we need the little one. The older boy is the heir, not to mention the favorite son."

"Trust me, we need him."

"Why?"

"Because as long as we have Faramir, Boromir will do everything we ask of him. He's very protective of his younger brother." The man leaned over and added more fuel to the fire throwing shadows around the trees. "Besides can you think of a better way to show Lord Denethor that we're serious, then a ransom note found on the body of his younger son?"

Boromir bit his lip to keep from reacting to the knowledge that the men intended to kill his brother. He knew he had to figure out a way to get Faramir free, even if he himself didn't. When he was sure most of the men were asleep, he shifted around testing the ropes. "Miri" he whispered fiercely. "Faramir!"

"Hmm?" came his brother's sleepy voice.

"You need to listen to me. We don't have much time to talk before the guard comes back around. They're planning on killing you so I've got to get you out of here." Boromir said firmly. He shook his head cutting off his brother's protest. "Look, they need me. They won't risk hurting me. So you keep watching me and when I tell you to, you run. We're not that far from the river. You get to it and you follow it south. There are camps of rangers all throughout this area."

"But I can't leave you."

"You have too. Promise me you won't look back when I tell you to go."

"Boromir…"

"Promise me Faramir."

"I promise." Faramir whispered fearfully.

Throughout the next day, both boys were especially watchful, waiting for their chance. As they dismounted that night, Boromir seized the moment. Faramir was already sitting on the ground but his wrists hadn't been tied to the tree yet. The older boy kicked his horse into a gallop creating a distraction for his brother to escape. The animal shied from the activity, nearly dumping him on the ground. All of the men whirled to grab him before he could take off. "GO MIRI." Boromir shouted as he was hauled from the horse.

Faramir was already moving. He scrambled to his feet, pushing the ropes off his arms as he did so. Then he sprinted into the woods. The man guarding him was a few seconds too late and he just missed grabbing the hem of the younger boy's tunic as he shot off into the trees. Boromir found himself quickly subdued and bound both at the wrists and ankles. One of the men drew back his fist to strike him across the face.

"Never mind him. Get the little one." shouted the leader. One of the men mounted and spurred his horse in pursuit of Faramir. The child had a good head start and he was running through some pretty small areas, making it difficult for the horse to follow. The man growled deep in his throat. He hated children anyway and these two were irritating him beyond reason. Finally the brush started to thin out as they got closer to Anduin. He slowed his mount for a moment, giving him the chance to form a quick loop in the rope he carried with him. The he kicked the horse back into to a run.

Faramir was panting by the time he could see the river. His legs were on fire but he forced himself to push past the pain. Suddenly something went tight across his chest and he was jerked backward. His head slammed into the ground and he lay there for a moment shaken. Then he tried to get to his feet, only to be yanked down again. Just then the man rode into his field of vision and he was pulled into the saddle with a heavy hand. The ride back to the camp seemed just a few moments long but Faramir was terrified by the time they got back. He took a deep breath to steady himself. "Just like facing Father." he thought to himself. "No tears. No crying. No sounds." He gasped as he was unceremoniously dumped on the hard ground. The man who had chased him down leaned over him to retrieve his rope and he kicked out hard, catching him just below the knee. The man let out a string of curses before striking him across the face. Faramir blinked a few times, trying to push back the blackness that threatened to take over. He felt his wrists being tied together and rough hands on his shoulders. Suddenly a steel grip squeezed his jaw forcing his eyes upwards.

"That was a mistake, boy." The leader of the group's eyes bored into his. The boy met his gaze head on. "Hmm. I see some defiance in those gray eyes. I wonder how much of it comes from your brother and how much is your own."

Faramir didn't say anything afraid his voice would betray him if he did. The man released him then went and pulled a small bag from his gear. He opened it and pulled out an object that the boy didn't recognize.

"Do you know what this?" he said holding it up. When there was no answer, his gaze shifted to Boromir. "Tell him to answer me."

"What for? He's not getting his courage from me."

"We'll see." He signaled to two of his men and they lifted Faramir to his feet pulling his arms up over his head. "I told you once that you didn't want to make me angry. Now you're going to get a whipping. This is a special whip called a cat of nine tails."

"Now wait just a minute. You want to punish someone? You punish me. I'm the one who told him to run." Hot rage coursed through Boromir's body. He struggled against the ropes that held him in place.

"But you see, young lord Boromir. I am punishing you. Every stroke that your brother feels is your fault. Every strike of the whip's lashes comes from you. Your punishment is knowing you caused your brother excruciating pain."

Boromir swore at the man who simply laughed maliciously. He could only watch helplessly as the man viciously brought the whip down on his younger brother's back. By the time it was over, blood was streaming freely down Faramir's back. The men cut the ropes holding him and he slowly collapsed to the ground. He was shaking and whimpering softly, but his eyes were cold. "When my father's rangers find you, you're going to regret this." The boy's voice was soft but hard.

"And I suppose you'd run again, given the chance, wouldn't you boy."

"In a heartbeat." Faramir answered defiantly.

"Well, I suppose I'll have to make sure you can't." The man was crouched near the boy's feet. Suddenly he grabbed Faramir's right ankle twisting it violently in his big hand. A sickening snap sounded as the boy screamed in pain.

A stream of curses erupted from Boromir's lips and he fought to get free of the ropes holding him. "Let him go. He's not going anywhere now." He stood up and walked across the clearing and Boromir raced to his brother's side the instant he was freed.

"Before this is over, I will kill you." He snarled at the men before turning his attention back to his younger brother. He wrapped his arms around the younger boy, trying to stop the bleeding with his tunic. Faramir's ankle was swelling rapidly and it was obvious there was no way he could walk on it.

"Bori…" the boy choked out."Please don't tell Father. Don't tell him I started crying."

"Don’t worry, Miri. He won't hear it from me." Boromir blinked back furious tears of his own. He was angry both with the situation and himself. Once again it seemed he had failed in his promise to his mother. He rocked his brother until overwhelmed with pain and exhaustion, Faramir fell asleep. After most of the men were asleep as well, one of them came over to the brothers. "What do you want?" Boromir asked darkly.

"I was going to put a splint on your brother's ankle. It will make things easier for him."

"Why do you care?"

"Because this wasn't what I was told was going to happen. Chaleth told me this was a test to check the defenses of the Citadel. He never said anything about a ransom or killing."

"Why didn't you just leave?" Boromir was still suspicious.

"Because it was too late. And I was hoping that maybe I could help you escape."

"Doesn't look like it now."

The man finished bandaging the ankle. Fortunately Faramir didn't wake up. "I'm sorry." He said as he walked back to the fire.

Sometime during the early morning hours, Boromir fell asleep as well. He woke to his brother tossing restlessly next to him. He put his hand on his back to calm him and was startled to realize how hot Faramir was. A thin sheen of moisture was visible on his forehead and his dark hair was plastered to his head. He jumped as the man who had splinted the ankle the night before lifted Faramir onto his horse then mounted behind him.

"Time to go, my young lord." Chaleth said mockingly. The group rode off into the morning mist. A few hours later, he called them to a halt. "Time to get rid of the lad."

He told the man riding with Faramir. "Kill him and drop his body where it will easily be found." The other man nodded then disappeared into the woods. Boromir was left alone with his captors.

A few miles away from the main group the man dismounted near a small stream and lifted the young boy down. He gently bathed Faramir's face with the cool water. The child's eyes fluttered open, but were shadowed with pain. "I dare not take you any further. I've already been gone longer then I should have. There's a camp of ranger scouts about a mile from here. They'll take care of you. Good luck, young Faramir." He turned and mounted his horse leaving the young boy behind. The silence of the woods descended as Faramir fought the pain in his body. He hitched himself forward using his good leg to slide along the ground. Suddenly the earth beneath him collapsed sending him sliding into a small ravine. As he came to a stop his right ankle became trapped between two roots eliciting a cry of pain. With a sigh, he let the darkness in his brain take him.

Madril looked up as a child approached him. "Hey Dannaul."

"There's a boy in the woods."

"What?"

"A boy. In the woods. He's hurt and his ankle is trapped and I couldn't get it free."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes Uncle."

"Show me."

Madril followed the child to the ravine. He gasped as he realized who the boy was. "Dannaul, get back to camp. Let the captain know I’m bringing Faramir in. And if he's here then his brother can't be far away."

Dannaul raced away as Madril gently untangled Faramir's injured ankle from the tree roots, then stood to his full height cradling the wounded boy to his chest. He walked as quickly as he could back to the camp where their captain was waiting for him.

"Bring him in here." The man lifted the flap of his own tent. Madril ducked inside trying not to jostle his burden. He carefully laid the child down on a pile of blankets spread on the floor of the tent. In the light of the torches he could see the full extent of Faramir's injuries. "What did they do to him?"

"I don't know, Captain." Madril answered as he quickly peeled Faramir's ruined shirt from his back. "Can you get his shoe off that right ankle? We're going to have to straighten it and then reset it."

"Yes. But it's going to hurt him."

"He won't feel it. He's too sick right now." Madril turned to Dannaul who was hovering near the tent's entrance. "Get me hot water and clean bandages. I'm also going to need the packs of healing herbs that are in my gear."

"Yes Uncle." The child disappeared in an instant.

"Isola. Look at this." The captain looked up from his splinting work at the strange tone in Madril's voice.

"What is it?"

"These bruises. They don't match."

"What do you mean?" Isola came to his friend's side. "I don't see what you mean."

Madril lifted the edge of Faramir's breeches. "These bruises are at least a week old. The boys have only been gone for four days."

"He's a lad. They get bruises."

Madril smiled grimly. "I'm raising that child that just ran out of here. I've never seen bruises like this. These were inflicted on him."

"What are you saying?"

The man sighed. "I'm saying I think Lord Denethor is beating his son. There have been some rumors that he was, but no one has had proof."

"Madril, as much as I hate to say this, you don't have proof now." Isola chose his words with care. "Denethor will say that the bruises came from his capture."

"I know." Madril said his voice soft and sad.

Present

"The next thing I remember is waking up here in the Citadel, in my own bed. Boromir was lying next to me sound asleep. Ioreth was fussing over me and Father was nowhere in sight. I found out later that when the Rangers caught up with the kidnappers, Chaleth tried to kill Boromir just before they arrived. Boromir moved faster then he expected and he fulfilled his promise."

"Boromir killed him."

"Yeah. The only one who survived was the man who had let me go. He was later tried and exiled."

"How long did it take you to get back on your feet?" Eowyn asked.

"About three weeks. Even then I had trouble walking. Boromir wouldn't leave my side and no amount of threatening from Father could make him change his mind." Faramir chuckled. "Father was mad but he almost never hit my brother so Boromir didn't care. Soon after I started my training and we spent all our free time practicing our swordplay. He was the best sparring partner I had."

"I wish I could have met him."

"He would have liked you." Faramir brushed his wife's face with his fingertips. "You're so beautiful." He whispered softly, still amazed that he had been blessed with her. "I love you."

"I love you, my husband."