The Forgotten Love ~A Faramir Love Story~

Chapter XII

"This city was once the jewel of our kingdom! A place of light, and beauty, and music! And so it shall be once more!" Boromir had stood on the wall of Osgiliath, holding in his hand the flag of Gondor. The streets of Osgiliath were swarming with celebrating soldiers and Rangers, chanting Boromir's name.

Boromir had drawn his sword, uttering in a loud voice: "Let the armies of Mordor know this: Never again will the land of my people fall into enemy hands!"

The men had shouted happily in agreement.

"This city," Boromir had cried, "has been reclaimed for Gondor!"

"For Gondor!" 

The crowds had erupted in cheers, celebrating the man who had lead the army of Minas Tirith into Osgiliath just that morning, bringing aid to the Rangers who had bravely defended it.

Faramir had been in the crowds, shouting with the others. As soon as Boromir had finished his speech, however, he had pushed through the crowd, eager to greet his brother.

He had been surrounded by soldiers when Faramir finally spotted him. He had pushed his way forward, wrapping his arms around his brother in a brotherly embrace.

"Good speech," he had said, clapping Boromir on the back. "Nice and short."

"Leaves more time for drinking!" Boromir had exclaimed, letting out a hearty laugh. "Break out the ale!" He had shouted, looking around. "These men are thirsty!"

"Yeah!" The soldiers had cheered, raising their fists.

"First, I have something you might want to see," Faramir had said, leading his brother through the crowds and over to an abandoned house where the injured were being attended to.

"Go inside," Faramir had nodded his head towards the entrance.

Confused, Boromir had moved aside the curtain, stepping inside.

The ray of light had shone on the young Ranger's face that otherwise would have been hidden by shadow. A Healer had been wrapping a bandage around a wound on his shoulder.

The Ranger had looked up at the brothers with a smile. "Sorry I missed your speech. It sounded like a good one."

"Gwen!" Boromir had exclaimed, rushing forward and giving Gwen a hug. "I have been so worried about you! Why are you here? Are you hurt badly?" He had taken note of the bowl of Athelas, or Kingsfoil as it was called there.

"I am a Ranger of Dol Amroth, aren't I?" Gwen had laughed. "I came to fight with my fellow countrymen. And this?" She had lifted her arm gingerly. "Nothing more than an arrow wound."

"It was poisoned," Faramir has said from the doorway, stepping forward. "We had almost lost you before the Healer arrived." His eyes had a deep look of worry carved into them.

"Faramir exaggerates," Gwen had said, her eyes resting on Faramir's face with a soft smile. "I only lost consciousness for a little while, but yes, I would've been much worse off if your brother had not found me when he did and carried me to safety." 

"The healer was able to remove most of the poison from the arrow wound, but her arm might never be as strong again," Faramir had said, closing the gaps in the story of Gwen's injury. He had been so worried for her, for she had been deathly sick so very quickly after finding her. He was still too terrified to let her out of his sight for fear that something may take her away from him, for good.