Eternally Bond

Heartache

22. Heartache

Miles and miles away, Gandalf, Boromir and Pippin had reached Minas Tirith after a long and tiresome journey only a few hours before. It had been a trying day for all three of them when they had been forced to meet Denethor, who, though rejoicing in his son's return, was reluctant to accept anything that did not sit well with him.

Gandalf and Pippin had left the throne room in a huff as Boromir had remained behind to talk over matters with his father. Still, there seemed little that could touch his father's well-guarded heart.

"Father, please! Listen to what Gandalf has said... " Boromir attempted again but Denethor held up a hand to stop him.

"I have heard enough of the wizard," Denethor's voice was heavy with tiredness of the particular subject.

The doors behind them suddenly opened and another voice rang clear, "Boromir!"

In great relief, Boromir turned and saw his brother in the doorway. "Faramir..." he breathed as the man in question rushed over to his elder brother and enveloped him in a bear hug.

As the two men parted, Boromir's eyes searched his brother's form for any sign of injury and was relieved when he found none.

"Oh, good... My family all together once more..." Denethor muttered and it was clear there was no joy in his voice. "Faramir..."

The younger brother clenched his jaw and bowed his head. "Father." he then turned back to his brother with a wide grin. "We were told you had passed. Your horn drifted ashore and we all were certain of it. I am most glad to learn this was not the case!"

"You have not heard the best part," Denethor said. "Boromir, my eldest and bravest, brought a wizard and... a hobbit to our city. But did he remember to bring The Ring, as I asked him? Did you not fail in the quest I appointed to you? It was important, Boromir! That was the reason I could not entrust Faramir with it!"

Boromir heard his brother's weary sigh and stepped forward to speak, "Father… You must listen to me. The Ring cannot come to Gondor."

"Why?" Denethor spat out madly.

Faramir raised his voice as he remembered the talk he himself had shared with Frodo and Sam not too long ago. "Because it must be destroyed."

"Stay out of this, Faramir! These are matters beyond you!" the grey-haired man scowled and held his head in his hands as if his sons brought him much pain.

Faramir's face fell and Boromir placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

Denethor shook his head slowly as he rose from the steward's seat and walked down the steps to face his sons. His steps echoed in the vast hall like a gong of death. "We could have used the Ring to fight this war. With the Ring of Power we could have won!"

Boromir held back his emotions as he tried to reason with the elder man. "You are not listening to us, father-"

"You have deceived me, son…," Denethor interrupted. "And to think, I put all my hope in you. You were the son I loved… and now you have fallen in my eyes. Much like Faramir, here. Who, too, let go out of the Ring when he had the chance to bring it to Minas Tirith. I knew he was weak, Boromir, I just never thought both my sons were cowards."

The brothers were just to argue back when they suddenly heard shouts and gasps outside. Faramir ran over to the door and looked outside. What he saw on the horizon gave him hope.

"What is it?" Denethor asked. "What is all the commotion about?"

"The beacons," Faramir breathed and exchanged a hopeful look with his brother. "The beacons are lit!"