Format: 300 Word FLF
Summary: Faramir worries about his brother
These characters all belong to the estate of J.R.R. Tolkien. This story was written for pleasure and not for financial gain.
He should have been granted the errand. It was his dream! Faramir groaned in frustration and ran his hands through his dark hair. To be fair, Boromir had dreamed the same dream, but only after Faramir had recounted it to his brother. Maybe Boromir had sensed his thoughts as they had slept alongside each other on the eve of the battle. Alternatively, had he talked in his sleep and caused his brother to dream?
Why had his father decided to send Boromir? His brother could less easily be spared. Faramir had questioned his father but received no answers. He could guess them, though. Denethor did not trust him. He knew the old lore as well as his father did.
Many swords had been broken in countless battles against the enemy as well as in kinstrife. Only one broken sword was deemed worthy of remembrance, though, Narsil, the sword of Elendil that had been shattered beneath him. His son, Isildur had pulled the broken sword from beneath his father’s body and cut the thing of which we do not speak, from the Dark Lord’s hand. Mithrandir had told him the tale.
Could it be then that some heir of Elendil’s yet lived and breathed?
Faramir thought of other dreams that he had dreamed; of the White Tree, alive and blossoming, as fair as Nimloth of old. Beside the tree had stood a man, tall and mighty as Elendil himself, wearing a crown and bearing a sceptre. Faramir had knelt to pay him homage and the King had smiled.
Months had passed, though, and there was no news of Boromir. Had some mishap befallen him? Surely he would sense if Boromir had been slain? Or what if an even worse fate had befallen him? He was alive but taken by the enemy?