I - Mornings

It was a sunny morning in Minas Tirith when Faramir woke up. He looked out the window and smiled, it would be a great day to go outside. Getting out of bed he went across the room to where his clothes were chosen and laid out for him. After finishing getting dressed Faramir went to the door that connected his room to his brother's. Entering his brother's room Faramir found that he was still in bed. Walking towards his brother's still form Faramir found that his brother was actually awake and just laying there. That was unusual of Boromir for he would normally wake and dress quickly so he could watch some of the soldiers practice sooner. Climbing onto his brother's bed Faramir tilted his head slightly to the side with a questioning look on his face.

Boromir smiled as his younger brother gave him a look that clearly stated 'why are you still in bed?' Boromir sat up and said, "I was just thinking about something."

"Oh," Faramir said as his head automatically returned to its normal position, "what were you thinking about?"

"Things," Boromir responded simply as he got out of bed and got dressed.

"Ohhhh." Faramir said with a tone of understanding as he went to stand next to his brother, "what things?"

"You know, things" Boromir replied with the smallest bit of impatience.

"Like.?"

"Like things you won't understand" Boromir responded with growing impatience as he opened the door to the hallway.

"Oh, like.?"

"Like what I shall eat for breakfast."

"What's not to understand about breakfast? Breakfast is breakfast and breakfast means eating and eating means food."

".And what father will say if we are late for breakfast."

Faramir immediately fell silent and quickened his pace, which didn't make much difference to Boromir since his long legs could certainly keep up with Faramir's shorter ones.

In truth Boromir wasn't thinking about breakfast, he was thinking of soldiers, battle and war. He was 9 years old and he had been taught simple swordplay. But just the other day he had heard the arms master speaking of him, of how his father had planned on having him learn true swordplay in the near future. He had heard that his father planned for him to begin when he was about 10. But 10 was still a young age to begin learning, Boromir guessed that his father wanted him to be ready soon. Or it could be the fact that he was the swiftest and strongest in his age group. He had always dreamed of glory on the battlefield for men were often praised for their prowess in war and battle. War is approaching; Boromir had heard the soldiers talking about the growing darkness of Mordor. If war broke out it would most probably occur in his time and he was worried or was it fear? 'No, it is not fear, for only weak and lesser men fear' Boromir repeated in his mind.

Boromir suddenly noticed that Faramir had become silent. He had always wondered why was it that their father would make his younger brother tense or stiffen under his gaze. Sure many lesser men would feel intimidated by the Steward's piercing glance but surely the sons of the Steward needn't feel as a lesser man in their own father's presence. Boromir admitted that he felt intimidated sometimes when his father would stare into his eyes when he was younger but that was only when he got into trouble. Now he could stand next to his father without tension but relaxed. But Faramir always seemed to tense a little when their father merely glanced at him for a while and Boromir wondered at that. Why would Faramir seem intimidated in the strict presence of their father? He never got into trouble with his teachers or any other adults so why would he feel uncomfortable? Could it be their father's rank or was it that Faramir felt as he was being read. Many of Boromir's playmates say that their fathers say that the Steward could read minds. Boromir never believed this because it seemed impossible to him that someone could read the hearts of men. His trail of thought came to an abrupt stop as they reached the family's dining hall.

The dining hall was a vast room for the Steward and his family and on rare occasions guests would arrive. These guests would include Prince Adrahir of Dol Amroth, Finduilas' father, along with her other family members, and sometimes nobles from other lands. There were three large windows along the west wall filling the room with light. Two walls held the entrances, the main entrance had wooden double doors and was upon the east wall, and the south wall held the side entrance in which the servants and handmaidens entered and exited, and the north wall was bare except for several paintings.

As the two brothers entered the hall they nodded their heads once in unison as a greeting to their father. Denethor looked upon his eldest with a certain pride as Boromir gave a nod in respect and greeting to his father with his back straight. His elder son had always carried himself confidently in front of lesser folk, which was his right as the son of the Steward. His gaze turned to his younger son, Faramir. Denethor looked at his second son with no emotion noticeable, he turned his head away as Faramir seemed almost to squirm under his steady gaze. It wasn't that Denethor truly disliked his second son it just seemed to him that Faramir was weak, ever delighting in tales of old, lore, history, languages, music, art and anything that could be found in books. Whereas Boromir enjoyed tales of heroes, battles, heroic deeds and strength. His sons contrasted much and ever would he look upon his firstborn with pride. He watched his sons as they seated themselves at the table after greeting their mother, Finduilas.

Finduilas watched as her two sons greeted their father. Boromir held his back straight and head held high under his father's strict gaze. But Faramir seemed almost uncomfortable under their father's gaze. Her sons seated themselves at the table, Boromir on his father's right side and Faramir upon her left side. She turned to Boromir and smiled, "had you a good night's rest Boromir?"

Boromir turned to his mother, "Yes, I did."

Finduilas turned to Faramir, "and you Faramir?"

"Yes," Faramir answered his mother in a small voice and under his father's gaze.

Denethor watched the small exchange between mother and sons. He watched Boromir, a tall and strong boy for his age with dark hair and gray eyes answer confidently, and then he watched as his younger son answer more timidly. Denethor was not pleased with Faramir's timid voice; it almost made him seem weak and how could a weak person earn respect from his people. As the second son of the Steward, Faramir would have a position as an advisor to Boromir and needed to maintain appearances. But Denethor knew it was still early to judge, he couldn't help it if Faramir took after his mother in terms of appreciation and after him in mind. Yes, Denethor knew that Faramir would be a speculative child as soon as he was born and he looked into his eyes and he knew that this child would be like him in mind. Hence the name Faramir, speculative jewel. Faramir was a slender child with a slightly rounded face as with most children his age. Well, Faramir might become a stronger person in the future it was still too early to tell. Boromir on the other hand would make a great warrior; Denethor had planned for his training in swordplay when he reached 10 and his enrollment into the army by 15. The boy was already showing an interest in the art of battle, which was a good thing Denethor thought.

After the family had done the traditional custom of looking west in the direction of lost Numenor and began eating Faramir noticed that his brother had become extremely quiet when he was normally talking about the soldiers. Was his older brother thinking like he was thinking this morning? Probably so Faramir thought, and he wondered if his parents had noticed the awkward quiet in the dining hall.

Boromir was thinking, about soldiers and if he would live up to his father's expectations. He was oblivious to the fact that the room had gone quiet and that his younger brother would occasionally look at him from across the table.

Denethor had noticed that Boromir had suddenly become silent; he looked into Boromir's eyes to see if there was any trace of emotion. What Denethor read in his eyes shocked him. There was apprehension, anxiousness, worry and a trace of doubt that was etched into his face and his eyes and expression showed it. Denethor wondered what would trouble his elder son, there was really nothing he could think of. Could it be Faramir? Boromir was always protective of his younger brother and would defend him at any time if need be. Assignments? Denethor knew how Boromir despised learning the history of Gondor and Numenor but he was never really distressed enough to show it. Sure he would complain that his assignments and lessons would be boring and pointless but he had never really been that distressed unless if he got into serious trouble and was scolded. He didn't get into trouble did he? No, there was no guilt in his expression. Whatever it was Boromir would probably tell him about it eventually so all he needed to do was wait.

Finduilas had also noticed that Boromir had gone silent and was curious about it. "Boromir, is there anything wrong? You seem considerably quiet today."

"No, there is nothing wrong I am just a bit tired."

"I thought you said you had had a good night's rest."

"Oh, I did I just slept a bit later than I normally would," Boromir replied with a half-truth.

"And may I ask why you slept later than you normally would?" Denethor asked as he entered the conversation.

"I was in bed when I should have been but I was thinking about the story that mother had told me last night, about Turin Turambar."

Faramir glanced at his brother with a look saying 'that's not what you told me.'

Faramir's glance unfortunately did not go unnoticed by his father. "Faramir," Denethor began watching his second son raise his head and look at his father, "do you know anything of Turin Turambar?" To his own surprise Faramir answered his father with a steady voice. "I know that he the son of Hurin and Morwen and was great fighter and considered a hero to many. He was also given many names such as Neithan, Gorthol, Wildman of the Woods and such others."

Boromir looked upon his younger brother in shock, no not shock more like amazement. He hadn't known the story of Turin until two years ago and had asked his mother to tell his tale to him. How would his brother, a child of 4, know about Turin already? And where did he hear the tale. Boromir was about to ask but his father had beaten him to it.

"And may I ask how you came across this information?" Denethor directed the question to Faramir. To Faramir the question sounded as if his father was accusing him of knowing. " I read it in a book, a book that mother gave me of tales of old," he responded in a soft but distinguishable voice.

Finduilas had listened to the conversation between her husband and sons in silence. When Faramir had mentioned that he knew the story of Turin she was not at all surprised for he would devour a large book of lost tales within a day if allowed, he would do the same for a book of poetry or elven lore. He could already read Sindarin, and was showing a knack for learning languages. She wouldn't be surprised if he had asked her to teach him other languages. She was drawn out of her reverie when her husband directed a question to her.

"Finduilas, which Book of Tales was Faramir referring to?"

"The book that I read when I was younger," she wondered what could possibly be wrong in giving a child a book of tales in which to let their imaginations wander.

Denethor nodded and the family finished their meal. The two brothers took their leave and Finduilas questioned her husband, "what is wrong with giving Faramir the book?"

"I did not say anything was wrong I just thought that he was still young to be reading those sorts of tales."

II - One Afternoon

After the brothers had left the room Boromir stole a glance at his brother. Faramir had never told him that he knew about the tale of Turin or that their mother had given him a book of tales. Faramir seemed to know he was being watched and turned his head to meet his brother's gaze.

"Why did you not tell me that you knew the tale of Turin and what 'Book of Tales' was mother referring to?" Boromir questioned.

Faramir took in a deep breath as if was going to give a confession, "for your first question you never asked me if I knew, and as for the second it was the Book of Tales in which Uncle Imrahil and mother's names were in, you know the blue book with the silver words on the cover."

Boromir thought for a moment until his memory found a blue book in which some tales were told in Westron and others in Sindarin and sometimes both.

"How did you read it though? That book was in both Westron and Sindarin."

"The book did not go into real detail about his tale, it was a real simplified version with some of Turin's best known feats but one part was in Sindarin and the other in Westron. It was not hard to read and was quite an interesting and enjoyable story I must admit, even though it was about a fighter," finishing his explanation Faramir turned to gaze out of a window.



When Faramir had turned away Boromir was almost positive that his mouth opened slightly in shock. His younger brother could read Sindarin whereas he still had problems recognizing which words were which. He was never much interested in learning Sindarin or of the history of Middle-earth and Numenor. It had never occurred to him that his younger brother would have already mastered the language. His teacher had always complained that he would never pay attention to learning the Elven language; the fact was that he was not interested, he thought it useless and pointless. He never understood why the lords of the land would often hold councils and conversations in the language or why there were so many books in Sindarin. Why couldn't the lords just speak in Westron or write books in Westron so that many more people would read them. He was always told that he was lucky to be learning such a language whereas many people did not have the chance. His mother loved the language and probably hoped that her sons would too, Faramir seemed interested but he never thought that Faramir would actually master it so soon, he always had trouble with the language and that was why his mother would often practice it with him.



While Boromir was pondering about Sindarin Faramir was gazing out the window. He was looking at a bird's nest in a tree near the window and listened to the soft trickle of water from the fountain. Watching and listening Faramir matched rebirth to the nest and music to the water of the fountain and connected this to a poem he had read several months ago. Absorbed was he into watching the nest and listening to the fountain it took him a while to notice that Boromir had become quiet and wasn't complaining about him gazing out of the window and he became curious.

Watching Boromir out of the corner of his eye he saw that his brother's mouth was slightly open as if he was shocked about something. What could his brother be shocked of? He recalled the little talk they just had, about the book and languages. When did Boromir seem confused? Faramir remembered that his brother seemed shocked when he mentioned that he read the book in both Westron and Sindarin. The Elven language, what was so shocking about knowing how to read Sindarin? It was such a musical and beautiful language that Faramir felt that he couldn't get enough. He loved the language and if he could he would use it for conversation. He was very happy when he found that the book his mother had given him contained stories, lore and poetry in Sindarin and Westron, he wouldn't mind if the whole book was in Sindarin. If there was a word he did not know he could guess it's meaning or ask his mother. His mother loved the language and so did he. Why would Boromir be surprised that he could read it, and then he remembered. His brother had always had some trouble with Sindarin and found it pointless and a waste of time. Why couldn't his brother understand the beauty of the language? The Elven language was clearly art in itself, the language of poetry and music. It was a language that had lasted for millennia and it must be important if the noble lords used it. Faramir turned his gaze away from the window and went to his brother.



Boromir and Faramir hurried down the hallway so they could get to class on time. Upon entering the classroom they found that Histories Master Halsel wasn't there. They took their seats and waited patiently for Halsel to arrive. When he eventually did arrive he seemed in an unpleasant mood and through experience the two brothers were very silent. 'Never mess with Master Halsel when he was in a bad mood for he can get very scary if annoyed' was a message heeded by children and adults alike. But most of the time Halsel was an easy enough person to get along with.

Halsel turned to Faramir, "Faramir I want you to read pages twenty to twenty-three today and then answer some questions I have for you."

He then addressed Boromir, "and I want you to write a one page essay about Arvedui and it has to be done by the end of class."



After the two boys were freed from the clutches of Master Halsel they went their separate ways. Boromir had Arms lessons and practices everyday but Faramir had them every other day, of which he was very grateful. Boromir loved Arms practice, because it meant that he could learn new techniques and it involved fighting. But Faramir loved History with Halsel, because it meant that he would learn something and he could ask Halsel any questions that he wanted answered.

Boromir headed towards the armory, which also served as a practice room and was where his lessons with Arms Master Arsil were held. When he entered the armory Arsil was already there conversing with a soldier Boromir did not recognize. The soldier looked at Boromir nodded his head, clasped hands with Arsil and then left the room.

"Ah, Boromir I want you to run two laps for me," Arsil said when Boromir had already begun running. When Boromir finished his laps Arsil began practicing with him. He noticed that Boromir was improving and would be ready for the special training planned for him when he reached ten. The first child of Denethor would make a fine warrior indeed, but of Faramir Arsil was not sure, the younger son didn't seem to enjoy fighting. Arsil knew that Faramir considered swordplay as an art and not as something to be taken lightly, such an early age to be thinking of these things. Faramir probably inherited some of his elven ancestor's traits through his mother. There were tales telling of the first prince of Dol Amroth, that he was a half-elf and that all of the princes of Amroth had elven blood. Boromir practiced with Arsil until the hour was over.



While Boromir was at Arms practice Faramir went straight to the library. The library of Minas Tirith was vast and filled with books, from histories, elven lore, poetry, politics, etc. Going to a shelf Faramir picked up a book about the creation of Arda and headed for the balcony. The library of Minas Tirith was about five stories with one story underground; all of the really old tales or the tales that were not often looked for were kept there. Adjoining the library were the treasuries, which also contained books and scrolls of old. The only ones that were permitted access to the treasuries needed to gain leave from the Steward. Most of the books dealing with politics could be located on the first floor for the convenience of the Steward and other nobles, histories of Gondor and Numenor would be located on the second floor, elven lore and poetry on the third and all the other books on the fourth and fifth. In order to make the rooms less closed in a small courtyard was added to the first floor in case if anyone wanted to read outside during good weather, large windows and balconies were also added on the upper levels.

Upon retrieving the book Faramir headed down the stairs and to the courtyard, the weather outside was too perfect to resist. Seating himself on a bench Faramir opened the book and read about Iluvatar and the creation of the Ainur, he read of the Valar and the Maiar, of Manwe, Varda, Ulmo, and all the other Valar. He also read of the exiled Ainu, Melkor or what most call him, Morgoth. Mandos, the Vala of judgment and death interested him, there were many theories of where men went when they died, but the elves went to Mandos' halls when they died. Faramir continued to read until the time for the afternoon meal came.



Entering the Dining Hall for the afternoon meal Boromir found that Faramir and both of his parents were waiting for him. Nodding his head once in greeting to his parents Boromir took his seat, the family stood and looked west, each one's thoughts differing from the other and all listening to the echo of the lost realm. To Boromir this was a tradition, to Faramir this was tradition and a respect to Numenor, to Denethor this was remembering the wrongs that led the Numenoreans to decay and to Finduilas this was a lesson and respect to those who were deceived. In unison the family sat down. "I am sorry that I was late," Boromir apologized to his family members.

"Oh no, you were on time we just got here early," Finduilas reassured her son with a smile.

Boromir nodded showing that he understood.

"So how were lessons today?" Denethor inquired both of his sons.

"Master Halsel made me write a one page essay about Arvedui today for class work."

"Hmmm, and was it hard?"

"Oh, it was okay," Boromir lied, "I just do not understand why we have to know about Arvedui," complained Boromir.

"Arvedui was an important character," Denethor answered Boromir, "he was the Last King and with him ended the Northern Kingdom."

"I know, but shouldn't we worry more about more important people? Like Anarion for it was he that founded Gondor was it not?"

"Yes."

"And wouldn't Anarion be more important, for Gondor still stands whereas the realm of Northern Kingdom has fallen," Boromir stated to his father.

" In some respective terms yes, but Anarion was a great king and we should respect him."

"Of course, but shouldn't we focus more upon Gondor and her Kings and Stewards?"

" They are both important and should be treated with equal respect, and as a son of the Steward you must do as such," Denethor said as he ended the small debate.



Both Faramir and Finduilas listened to the conversation of the two other family members in silence. Faramir agreed with what his father said, they should respect the Last King of Arnor and should give him respect. His brother had always believed Gondor the best and his father; Boromir believed that their father should be the king. After all Denethor ruled his country as a king would and Boromir ever wondered how long it would take for the Stewards to become kings. Faramir did not agree with Boromir in this term, he still believed that there was hope and that one-day if not in his time, the king would return.

As father and first son were conversing Finduilas turned to Faramir. "So Faramir how was your day?"

"The normal, had lessons with Master Halsel and then I went to the library."

"And what did you read in the library?" Finduilas smiled as she asked her son.

"I read of the creation of Arda and of the Ainur."



Denethor involuntarily listened to his wife and Faramir's small conversation and was displeased; his second son was reading books of creation, which was useless. He would be better off spending his time practicing with the sword rather than having his head in books of lore and fantasy. The Steward's thoughts of Faramir faded away as Boromir's words occupied his mind. Denethor knew that Boromir had always considered his father as king, Denethor had to admit that he was somewhat proud that his elder son would think so highly of his father, but within his true mind he never considered himself a king, only a server to the country until the rightful king returned. Of course, Denethor along with many others doubted that a king would return to them. Denethor never doubted Boromir's leadership skills, the only thing he feared of him was that he would think himself the king when his father grew old and passed away, which must not happen. What would the people think? No, Denethor must hammer into Boromir's mind that they were the Stewards, ruling only until the king returned, no matter how much secret pride he had in his son thinking his father a king.



The family finished their meal and went where they would.

III - Evenings and Night Time Discussion

After her sons left the room Finduilas looked at her husband. Denethor looked right back at her. "You do know that your first question was directed to both sons, am I correct?" she asked in a slight tone of accusation.

"Of course I knew," Denethor replied noticing the almost accusing look and tone of voice his wife was directing at him.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"You know perfectly well of what I speak," Finduilas shot her husband an icy look.

"The boy shows perfectly well that he does not enjoy conversing with me," Denethor replied, temper rising but keeping a cool appearance.

" 'The boy' you refer to has a name I'm sure you know by now," the mother of 'the boy' shot back.

" Very well, 'Faramir' shows perfectly well that he does not enjoy conversing with me," Denethor did not like that his wife was gaining the upper hand, not that he truly minded it was just that the political position and his pride would not allow it.

"Did you ever try conversing with Faramir?"

"Yes, but he shows pretty well he is uncomfortable in conversation with me," Denethor found himself admitting.

"And did you ever wonder why?"

Denethor was now caught in a tight spot, and since his wife clearly knew that judging by the look on her face, he made no comment.

"You are too strict with him, stop trying to judge him, think you that he cannot tell? He is uncomfortable with you because he can tell that you are reading him, so what I am saying is that you have to be softer with him," Finduilas explained, making sure she hit her mark.

"Well then, I am terribly sorry if I do not baby him like a certain mother here," Denethor shot back temper gradually rising.

"Baby him?" Finduilas said with a slowly rising voice, "I do not baby him, I am merely kind to him and look upon him with love as he so rightly deserves as my son and as a child, and apparently someone in this room cannot do as such," she gave an icy glare to her husband.

If it were any other woman than his wife Denethor's temper would have taken control. But it was his wife so Denethor, amazingly, remained calm and answered in an icy tone. "The boy dreams too much."

"Then let him dream, he is still a child," Finduilas answered almost pleadingly, and before the wrath of her temper was let loose she left the room leaving Denethor stunned.

Denethor was not truly happy with his wife, and was reluctant to admit that she proved a point. Faramir was still young, but he did not want Faramir to dream, before he became weak. No, Denethor would leave things just as they were lest either son becomes suspicious. Family was more complicated than politics; definitely, whoever thought differently was terribly wrong.

He rose and left the room to deal with the army's scouts and of the growing darkness of Mordor.



The two boys left the room so they wouldn't be late for Sindarin lessons. Boromir turned his head to Faramir, "so what did you do this evening? I know father asked me, but what about you?"

Faramir raised a small eyebrow, barely discernible; his brother did know that their father's first question had been directed to both of them, didn't he? Their father had asked both of them how their day went but Boromir, the conversationalist he was had occupied their father through the entire meal, of which Faramir admitted he was very grateful. Instead of telling their father how his day went he had told their mother.

"I went to the library, as usual," Faramir decided that his brother did not know and was just being the protective older brother he was always wanted to see him happy.

"The library? Why do you always go there? Would not your time be better spent going outside or watching the soldiers as I do?" Boromir asked his brother.

"I go to the library because I wish to go, and I do not enjoy watching the soldiers practice as much as you do," Faramir answered firmly.

"Hmmm, what did you read then?" Boromir doubted that there was much anything interesting that could be found in the library except for tales of heroes and great battles.

"Creation."

"Creation?" it was Boromir's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"Creation," Faramir affirmed as they entered the classroom.



Master Maegil was in the room near the open door and had heard the little conversation between the brothers. He knew that Boromir would not appreciate the library, he was always interested in action. But Faramir loved the library and he enjoyed reading books of about every subject. Maegil was glad that Faramir loved Sindarin, other than making his job easier it gave him a sense that he had done his job correctly. But Boromir was a different story, he did not appreciate Sindarin as his younger brother did, he thought it pointless and useless. No matter what Maegil tried to do Boromir was just not interested. Even if Boromir was not interested Maegil still had to teach him, and teaching him was becoming a problem. Boromir was a nice kid and a good person, Maegil never doubted a minute, but it was just a problem. That was why Maegil decided to do something special today, today's lessons were going to be cut short because he had some business to attend to, instead of the normal books, paper, pen and reciting he was going to use real objects and names to try to get Boromir to memorize the words. Faramir had no trouble at all in memorizing words; the boy could already read the language. But it was probably because Faramir was taught differently, after the problems with Boromir they decided to teach Faramir Sindarin earlier whereas Boromir learned Westron first and then Sindarin when he was two. Even if it had been reversed Maegil knew that still Faramir would have learned Sindarin quickly, the boy showed true talent in learning languages as Boromir showed talent in physical activities. Well, Maegil could not change that fact and he did not wish to, he stood up as the two boys entered the room.



When Faramir and Boromir entered they took their seats and Master Maegil began speaking. "Today's lessons will be cut short due to the fact that something has come up and I must leave early," Maegil watched the two boys to see if they had any expressions, Faramir seemed worried, Boromir predictably looked particularly happy. "And due to shorter lessons we shall be doing something different today, actually it is a type of test, not a real one mind you, I just wanted to see how you two are doing," the boys' expression changed dramatically, Faramir seemed interested and Boromir looked as if all of his hopes and dreams were denied. Maegil tried to hide a smile as he continued, "instead of the usual, today for the first fifteen minutes we will stay in the classroom and the next outside," Boromir now seemed slightly interested at the mention of outside. "While we are in the classroom I will point to an object and one of you will have to say a sentence using the word," Faramir still seemed interested and Boromir was uneasy, "but before that we will be guessing the meanings of names." Now both children were interested, 'perhaps this will work' Maegil gently mused with himself.

As lessons began Maegil had the brothers tell him the meanings of the names of people they knew for many people still used Sindarin for the basis of their names. Maegil tested the boys separately. While testing Boromir Maegil noticed that the child was feeling easier and surer of himself, "tell me the meaning of your name," Maegil began. "Faithful jewel," Boromir answered with plain ease.

"Your brother's."

"Speculative jewel."

Maegil prayed that his plan would work and from what he could tell this was going just as he wanted it so he continued, "tell me my name," Boromir seemed to think a bit and answered. "Piercing star?" Boromir had guessed correctly.

Maegil smiled, "correct." This little drill continued with the names of other members of the court and also with several created names. Maegil tested Faramir and assuredly enough Faramir went through with ease. They continued with classroom objects. Upon going outside Maegil tested the boys on nature using descriptive phrases. Pointing to a tree Maegil tested Faramir, "I want you to describe it to me in a phrase." What came out of the boy's mouth surprised Maegil a bit but he guessed he should have expected it, but he did not think a child of his age could recite poetry within a sentence or phrase. The fifteen minutes continued with Faramir and then Boromir. What Boromir said surprised him too, he did not think that the child would improve so quickly, or maybe the child could do so all along but he was just not interested and it could be that Boromir was just anxious that class be over, but Maegil doubted that. Of course Boromir's answers were not as good as his brother's but it was certainly an improvement. As class ended Maegil was still in shock. 'I will never figure out those two,' he muttered to himself.



When lessons were over Boromir headed straight for the armory where the soldiers were practicing. The armory was divided into several sections, some sections one stories, others two or three stories and one open yard. The open yard was adjoined with the main building and was where the soldiers practiced in good weather. It was enclosed on three sides by stonewalls with several entrances so the soldiers would have at least some privacy while practicing.

Upon reaching the yard Boromir found that Master Arsil was still conversing with the soldier from before and the two did not seem to notice his entering, the two were at the far side of the yard so Boromir could not hear. Knowing that the other soldiers would be coming shortly he climbed the lower part of the wall and sat there waiting.



Arsil was talking with an old friend of his, Falborn, a current Captain of Denethor's armies.

"So Arsil, has anything changed within the city while I was gone?"

"No, what of Ithilien? I heard that the place is deserted now."

"Well, it's almost deserted, except for the families that have been living there for long, the ones that can't afford a move and of course the Ithilien Rangers and scouting groups."

"Why would it be 'almost deserted,' what happened?" Arsil inquired the Captain, curious.

"Mordor, Orodruin or Mount Doom burns, the land is sometimes filled with smoke, the first warnings that darkness is coming, and it is coming soon," Falborn answered sadly.

"The Gardens of Gondor," Arsil sighed, "how very strange that such a beautiful land be placed right next to Mordor, a land of darkness and shadow."

"The Moon Land, and such a fitting name too for it is as if the smoke of Orodruin was a cloud and Ithilien as the Moon," Falborn sighed and continued in a whisper, "and once the cloud covers the Moon all is covered in Darkness, but unlike the cloud and moon the cloud will not leave and the Darkness will rule."

"The cloud may cover the Moon but the Sun will still be, Falborn, it is too early to despair," Arsil knew Falborn was getting to something; Ithilien was not named as it was for that reason.

Falborn looked at Arsil with pain in his eyes, "the Dark Lord has returned, you know of the Last Alliance, a vast army of Elves, Men, Dwarves and other beasts and creatures, but this time there are only Men. What hope do we have?"

"There are still the Elves, they must still love Middle-earth."

"The Elves, if what the old tales say are true the Elves can go to the Undying Lands and depart from these shores forever. They are probably tired and there are so many Men that do not even know that the Elves exist, think you that they will help unbelieving Men, Arsil?"

"No, but we must still have hope," Arsil replied sadly.

"Yes, we must have hope. Hope in the next generation."

"Next generation, you think it will come that soon."

Falborn nodded and looked Arsil in the eye, "there have been more and more orc sightings and more movement within the Dark Land."

"Denethor must be very glad to have such a hopeful Captain," Arsil jested hoping to lighten spirits and to change the subject.

Falborn chuckled noticing his friend's rather lame attempt to change the topic and to lighten his spirits, "well the Steward will not have this 'hopeful' Captain for much longer."

"What?" Arsil asked confused.

"I served the army since I was a young man of fifteen and I have continued serving for over forty years, how much longer do you think I will be able to serve? At most fifteen years, and if I am still an able warrior by then I shall be truly surprised."

"You are right, we must have hope in the next generation."

"What of the young ones," Falborn said noticing Boromir out of the corner of his eye.

"Excuse me?" Arsil looked at his friend not understanding.

Falborn nodded at Boromir's direction. Arsil turned his head slightly then noticing Boromir, "oh, the two sons of Denethor, what of them?"

"There is a chance that the battle with the Dark Land will intensify and grow into war during their time and with their position as Denethor's sons they will most likely be thrown into the midst of the battle as Captains when they grow into manhood."

"You ask of their warrior skills," Arsil sighed as he began, "Boromir is a warrior, from what I can tell at his age. He has all of the qualities required of a fighter, as a Captain, and as a leader."

"And what of Denethor's second son, Faramir?"

"Of Faramir I am not sure."

Falborn raised an eyebrow, "how is that so?"

"The child is a born scholar, both Maegil and Halsel tell me so. Apparently the second son of the Steward has a knack for learning languages and memorizing agonizingly painful books and dates."

"But what do you think?"

"I don't know, the kid has the abilities to become a warrior and a leader but he does not seem interested as Boromir is."

"There are not many scholars that enjoy the art of the sword."

"But that is exactly how Faramir views swordplay, as art," Arsil responded with an exasperated sigh.

"So let me get this straight, the first son, Boromir, is a natural born leader and warrior," Arsil nodded so Falborn continued, "and the second, Faramir, is a natural born scholar am I correct?" Arsil nodded again. "Do you know what will make Faramir pick up a sword?"

"I do not rightly know but I would guess for defense."

"And Boromir?"

"Either offense or defense," Arsil responded not knowing what Falborn was thinking or planning.

"Hmmm, does Faramir have skill with the sword?"

"He has skill, but not true talent like his brother."

"So he can fight."

"Yes."

"Then we need not fear, for if he loves the White City and all it stands for he will defend, he may not be as great a warrior as his brother but he may be great. To win a battle one does not need strength alone, wit and mind are also required." Falborn stood up as he noticed more soldiers entering the yard.

"I already knew that but being reminded does not hurt," Arsil stood up.

"You have been off the field for too long my friend, and now I must go give the honorable Steward my report. Good day."



Boromir watched Arsil and the unknown soldier talking for a while and then he noticed that soldiers were entering the yard. He watched as the soldiers got ready for practice.



While Boromir had headed for the armory Faramir went back to his room. He had wanted to reread some of his old books and maybe ask his mother if she had any books that he could read. Entering his room Faramir retrieved a book of Elven tales and heroes. Sitting on the windowsill he began reading.



Boromir watched the soldiers until it was an hour till the evening meal. Climbing down from the wall Boromir headed for the family's sitting room. He saw that the only one there before him was his mother. She was sitting in her seemingly favorite chair reading a letter.



Finduilas sighed as she finished reading the letter her brother had written her. Her brother had a tendency to write very long personal letters and reasonable political letters, of which her father was thankful. What would the impatient lords do if they received a very long letter from Imrahil speaking of politics, nothing pretty she deemed. Noticing Boromir she smiled, "I was just reading a letter from your uncle Imrahil, apparently he is coming for a visit shortly." She watched as Boromir nodded his head. Her children loved Imrahil, he would tease and play games with them every time he visited his sister and brother-in-law.



After a while Faramir entered the sitting room and as usual headed for the shelf where several of his books were kept. Picking up a small book of Elven poetry Faramir went to a spot on the ground where the light from the window touched, providing sufficient enough light for reading.

Boromir picked up his wooden practice sword and moved to the other side of the room so he wouldn't be too close to his mother or younger brother.

When Faramir finished his book he placed it back on the shelf and seated himself so he could watch his brother practice. Watching his brother he did not notice his mother walk over to him. Finduilas seated herself next to her younger son, "you're uncle Imrahil wrote a letter to me."

Faramir turned to his mother, "and what did he say?"

"He'll be coming for a visit within a month."

Faramir smiled, "oh."

"Can you tell me a story?"

Finduilas was surprised at her son's request, "sure, what story do you wish to hear?"

"About the Elven King Gil-Galad."

Finduilas wondered why Faramir would want to hear that tale but knew better than to ask, "come, and sit closer."

Faramir sat closer to his mother and looked up at her.

Finduilas thought for a moment,

"Gil-Galad was an Elven King. Of him the harpers sadly sing: The last whose realm was fair and free Between the Mountains and the Sea.

His sword was long, his lance was keen, His shining helm afar was seen; The countless stars of heaven's field Were mirrored in his silver shield."*



While Finduilas continued Denethor entered the room. He saw Boromir practicing and Faramir listening to his mother tell of 'The Fall of Gil- Galad' in Sindarin. He seated himself and waited until the evening meal would be served.

The bells of Minas Tirith rang signifying time for the evening meal. Entering the Dining Hall the family stood behind their chairs and looked west. Then seating themselves they began eating. "So Boromir what did you do today?" Finduilas inquired of her son.

"I watched the soldiers practice, Master Arsil was talking to a soldier today."

"Well he is the Arms Master, it is not unusual for him to talk to a soldier."

"Of course, but this soldier does not seem to be of the Tower Guard or any of the soldiers within the citadel."

"Oh, how so?" Denethor asked as he decided to enter the conversation.

"Well," Boromir began, "instead of the sliver and sable of the Tower Guard he was dressed in greens and browns, but I could still tell that he was a soldier."

"You probably saw Captain Falborn, of the Ithilien Rangers," Denethor answered.

"The Ithilien Rangers?" Boromir asked, he had heard of these Rangers but he did not know what they truly did in the army.

"Yes," Finduilas decided to explain, "The Rangers are a large scouting party, they tell your father if there is any movement on our eastern borders and they help defend Ithilien."

"Oh, so what of their Captain?" Boromir did not really see any significance in the Ithilien Rangers.

"They must have a wise and skilled Captain, for the Rangers travel in secrecy to find information and must be able to hide from enemies," Denethor answered.

"Oh," Boromir still did not see their true significance, why would soldiers hide from enemies, couldn't they attack openly?

Denethor had watched Faramir while Finduilas, Boromir and himself had talked, he seemed to be listening but he still avoided joining in. Deciding to let his wife handle Faramir Denethor turned to Boromir, who was now talking about the soldiers, as always. 'Why did Faramir have to be so complicated?' Denethor asked himself. Why could he read Boromir easily but not Faramir?

Finduilas noticed that Faramir did not join in the family's small discussion about the Ithilien Rangers. Noting that Denethor was obviously not going to converse with Faramir Finduilas turned to Faramir. 'Why couldn't her husband and second son get along?' she asked herself. "So Faramir, what did you do in Sindarin lessons?" she knew her second son loved the Elven language just as she did.

"Master Maegil had to attend to some business today and lessons were cut short so he did something different today. He gave some type of test, to see how we were doing. First he tested us on the meanings of names, then he wanted us to make up sentences using objects in the classroom, and after that we went outside, he wanted us to describe nature using a sentence or phrase," Faramir seemed to think for a while. "Boromir seemed easier today during lessons though, which is good."

Finduilas smiled as her son told her that Boromir seemed easier with lessons. He never seemed interested in the language and was always uneasy when he had to speak, write or read it. "That is good, did you go to the library this afternoon?"

"No, I didn't go to the library today," Finduilas raised her eyebrows at this. "Then where did you go?" she doubted Faramir would go with his brother to watch the soldiers and she did not know where else he would go.

"I went back to my room to reread some of my books."

Finduilas nodded, "oh," that was pretty normal of Faramir, she was a bit worried when he said he did not go to the library.

Meanwhile Denethor was still listening to Boromir talk about the soldiers.



Finished with the meal the family left the table to do whatever they had to do before bed. Denethor left to finish looking over some papers, Finduilas went to get ready for bed and to tell her children their bedtime stories, Boromir decided to finish some of his assignments and Faramir went to the windowsill to gaze at the stars since all of his work was done.

Gazing at the stars Faramir noticed that Earendil was particularly bright that night. He loved looking at the stars, probably as much as Boromir enjoyed watching the soldiers practice; he also loved books as much as his brother loved listening to tales of heroic Men. Faramir loved the night sky, he understood why the High Elven Kings used the night sky for their symbols, for it truly was heaven's field with it's midnight blue background with the stars, providing a light in darkness and guidance for the lost traveler.



Boromir was writing facts about Earnur, the Last King of Gondor before the ruling Stewards. Boromir thought Earnur a great man, but he also thought this man somewhat weak. Earnur had not listened to Mardil, his Steward, for long the King of Minas Morgul challenged him to single combat and taunted him. After seven years the challenge was repeated taunting within him the heart of his youth that he had become weak of old age. Earnur had rode out with several riders to meet the King of Minas Morgul's challenge and there he fell. Since there were no witnesses of the Earnur's death, Mardil ruled Gondor in his name.

Even though Boromir thought the Last King of Gondor weak to some extent, he did not think him wrong in some way. Earnur was challenged and if he did not accept that challenge it would have made the King think himself weak, but even though he was challenged Earnur was charged with the duty of ruling Gondor, and his country and people had to come first, but his pride made Earnur accept the challenge. Many say that the King and his companions were tortured within Minas Morgul, a horrible fate.



Entering Faramir's room Finduilas found her son sitting on his bed, patiently waiting for his mother. Sitting on the side of the bed Finduilas asked, "What story would you like to hear tonight?"

"Can you tell me the tale of Earendil?" Faramir answered quickly, apparently he was thinking about which story he would like to hear before his mother entered.

"Sure," Finduilas wondered why her son would want to hear the story of the Evenstar of Men and Elves, "why do want to hear that story?"

"Earendil is bright tonight," Faramir answered looking out of the window.

Finduilas turned her gaze to the window too, hugging Faramir close to her she asked, "Westron or Sindarin?"

"Both."

"Earendil was a mariner,.........



Finishing the story when Faramir was slowly falling to sleep she tucked him in, kissed his brow and left the room. Entering Boromir's room she found him sitting on his bed waiting impatiently. Sitting at the side of his bed she smiled, "you want me to continue the tale of Turin?"

Boromir nodded vigorously in response.

"Now where were we?...."



Tucking Boromir in when he was drifting in and out of sleep she headed for the room she and Denethor shared. Finding Denethor gazing out of a window she went to stand next to him.

"Why east?" Finduilas asked as she noticed that her husband's gaze was looking in the direction of Dark Land.

"It grows, the shadow," was the monotonous reply.

"It troubles you," Finduilas looked at her husband.

Denethor made no comment.

"And you worry for Gondor," she continued.

Denethor nodded, "war is approaching."

Finduilas paused for a moment before continuing, "Do you recall the little conversation we had this afternoon?"

Denethor gave a slight nod and knowing her husband she knew that he did not wish to discuss it, but she continued, "Why can't you and Faramir get along?"

"I do not wish to discuss this."

"But I wish to discuss this matter."

Denethor looked long and hard at his wife but Finduilas would not give in.

"What don't you like about Faramir? I know you get along with Boromir but why not Faramir?"

"What story did he ask you to tell him this night? I heard you telling him of 'The Fall of Gil-Galad.'"

"He asked for the tale of Earendil tonight and he asked me to tell him of the High-Elven King," Finduilas answered not knowing exactly what her husband was pointing to. Abandoning true reason she decided to take on a firmer approach, "Denethor, tell me why you and Faramir cannot get along, and I want a straight answer."

Denethor stared at his wife, since when did she decide to become straightforward. "I told you this afternoon if you recall."

"You think he dreams too much," Finduilas stared back at her husband. Knowing she was right she asked even though she knew the answer, "do you love him?"

A moment passed and Finduilas was positive that the answer was 'yes' but her husband wouldn't say that out loud. Sighing she turned her gaze to look out of the window.

"The war," Finduilas turned quickly to look at her husband as he continued, "it is coming soon, and our sons will most likely be thrown into its midst."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"Faramir is not a born warrior, you and I both know that, but he does have the skills. Dreaming will not get him anywhere, when he grows he must focus on what is around him."

Finduilas made no comment, she still had no idea as to what 'dreaming' had to with anything.

"Stars, tales, stories, legend and myth will not help him. Being born into the line of the Ruling Stewards Faramir will have to serve in the army someday and will be a captain of Gondor's armies. Where will dreaming get him?"

"You say Faramir dreams, yet Boromir dreams too. What is the difference between them? Dreams are dreams and they both dream."

"Like I said Faramir dreams of stars and tales and myth, but Boromir dreams of becoming a great warrior aside from dreaming of tales of battles and honorary men. There is a difference between their dreams, one dreams of imagination and one dreams of what is in being. War and Men are reality."

Finduilas placed a hand on her husband's arm and turned so she could look at him directly, "it is normal for children to dream, they only have this short period of time as children and children need dreams. Those two boys are both children and they are our sons, they both dream and they both have hopes, one dreams of heroes and the other of stars, one loves the sword and one loves books." Finduilas looked at Denethor straight in the eye, "you love them both and yet you show it more clearly in one than in the other, I know you have trouble conversing with Faramir, but please try."

After a long pause, hesitantly, Denethor reached to take his wife's hand, looking out of the window together Finduilas put her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes said, "we have two sons; one of Books and Stars.," "The other of Swords and Men."

THE END