Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings.
Faramir had been into his father's room very few times during his life. He had made it a place that he had tried his best to avoid. However, the former Steward of Gondor was now dead and it fell to Faramir to empty out his room and prepare it for its next inhabitant.
As he walked down the long hall, he thought of his father and their relationship. At one point his father had loved him and had shown it. They had gotten along well and there were no problems. But that was before his mother died. After that, their relationship worsened, until it became what it had been right before he had gone out on his suicide charge.
Faramir entered his father's room. It was dark and gloomy in there. The bed was neatly made but there was clutter all over the rest of the room. It almost looked as if the former Steward still lived there. But, seeing the mess, Faramir gave a sigh.
"Where to begin?" he muttered to himself while running a hand through his light brown hair. "You'd think he would have kept this place neater!"
Having said that, Faramir got to work cleaning the room. He started by cleaning out all of his father's clothes and setting them aside in a box. This was not hard because they were some of the only neat things in the room. Then he started on the many papers that cluttered the room. It seemed that Denethor had worked in his room often instead of his study, or he had at least decided that he would store his work in his room instead.
Faramir had nearly finished cleaning up the many papers that were lying around when he came across a small box that had been hidden behind the bed and a table. He pulled out the box and blew some of the dust off of it. It was small, black, and looked to be many years old judging by how worn out it looked. Curious as to what this box could contain that his Father would have hidden it, he took off the lid and looked inside. Inside the box was a stack of papers, and upon closer inspection it could be seen that each of these papers were letters. Faramir pulled them all out and discovered that they were all addressed to Finduilas, his mother, and all were dated after her death.
"What could he have been thinking? Why would he write to a dead woman?" Faramir mused aloud.
He decided to read one of the letters.
My dear Finduilas,
It has been one year since your death and I still miss you terribly. I never thought that I would have to live without you. I have changed since your death and I have done some things that I now regret. I started using the Palantir, yet I know that I should not have. I think it is poisoning my mind, causing me to go crazy, little by little, every time I use it. And yet, I find that I cannot stop. From the beginning it has controlled my actions and when I try and stop myself from looking in, I find myself thinking, "just one more peak, I need to see just one more thing." And so it continues.
When you died I made you a promise. I promised you that I would look after our youngest son, Faramir. I'm so sorry my love, but I have failed you. I have not been able to keep this promise. I really meant to, but somehow, whenever I see him, whenever I want to say something kind, the opposite comes out. I think it must be the Palantir. It must be controlling my actions during the day. I long to say "I love you" but I cannot. Yet, I am able to tell you my true feelings on paper.
I miss you so much my Finduilas and I'm so sorry that I've become what I have. I fear that things may only get worse and I wish that you were still here with me, for I know that if you were, things would be a lot different.
Your husband Denethor
Faramir stared blankly at the words on the paper. He slowly started to grasp what it had said. In the letter, Denethor had claimed to love him, yet he knew that he must have been six years old then and that his father had not loved him. Was he really telling the truth? Had he really loved him and yet been unable to say it?
He picked another letter at random.
My dear Finduilas,
Today Boromir swore his loyalty and joined the Gondorian Army. It is strange to think that our boys are growing up. Today, Boromir looked just like a grown man, even though he is only fifteen. I could see the pained look in Faramir's eyes. He did not want his brother to leave him. I wanted to tell him that everything would be alright and that I would spend time with him and that he would see his brother occasionally, but of course that is not what came out of my mouth. I think I yelled something at him. Yet I cannot remember what I said or ever saying anything. I only remember that Faramir left the room with tears ready to fall from his eyes.
Finduilas, I am an awful father. I do not know how to raise our children or how to show them that I care. It is so easy with Boromir but when it comes to Faramir I am terrible. Why would the Palantir only ruin that relationship? Why not both? I wish I knew these answers my love. I wish only that I could love them both equally as you would have.
Your husband Denethor
Faramir clearly remembered the day that Boromir had sworn his loyalty. His father had yelled at him for being too attached to his brother and had told him that he needed to learn to live on his own, without his brother to lean on. He had said that he was acting like such a child and he should not need to rely on his brother so much. He had only been ten years old and what Denethor said had hurt him. Could it really be true that his father had not meant to say those things? Had he really wanted to comfort him?
Faramir decided to read yet another letter, which he again picked at random.
My dear Finduilas,
Today Faramir decided to train with the Rangers of Ithilien and not under his brother in the Gonorian Army. I know that he must have chosen this to be away from me because I know that he had wanted to train with his brother. I had told Boromir that this was forbidden when I really had wanted it to be so. I do not like the thought of not seeing him as often as I would have if he had joined the Gondorian Army. With the Rangers there is no telling when he will return or if he will even chose to visit.
Despite what our son thinks, I really do love him. I just wish that I could express that to him. I sometimes think that I should just show him these letters or write it down like I am now and then he would know. However, I fear that if I were to do that, something would go horribly wrong. Perhaps I would rip up the paper or I would be unable to show it to him. I should never have looked into the Palantir. It has ruined my life...and the lives of our children, especially Faramir. He will never know how much I love him and by now he will have forgotten the bond that we used to share.
I curse the evil of the Palantir and I curse myself for looking into it. I know that if I had not been mad with grief that I would not have done it. But I do not blame you, my Finduilas. It is not your fault. The fault is mine alone. If I had only let you see your beloved sea and Dol Amroth more often, then you might still be here with us and our lives would be happy. Yes, it is completely my fault. And I am so sorry.
Your husband Denethor
Faramir was once more left in a state of shock. His father had actually wanted him nearby. He had not wanted him to join the Rangers of Ithilien. His father had longed to tell him how he felt and had feared that even with it written down that something would go wrong. He felt so bad now, thinking about how he had hated his father. His father had really loved him...or so he had told Finduilas.
He chose one more letter out of the pile to read.
My dear Finduilas,
Boromir is dead. His horn has been cleaved in two. Faramir found him in a boat in the Anduin River, lying with his arms crossed and his sword lying on his chest along with his shield. His horn was found separately, washed up on the shores of the Anduin. I hope that he is with you and you two have finally reunited. However, I wish that it had been me and not him. I would much rather be the one seeing you right now. It was not his time.
Your husband Denethor
Reading this letter brought tears to Faramir's eyes at the recollection of his brother's death. That had been an awful day. He had not expected to find his brother dead in that boat or to find his horn broken in two.
Through the tears he picked out one last letter to read.
My dear Finduilas,
Faramir is dying. I was so awful to him. I sent him out to his death. I told him to reclaim Osgilith even though I knew that all was lost. Why did I do it? Now I will be deprived of my whole family.
He burns with a fever that will not abate. He lies there, murmuring in his fevered sleep. All I can think about is that it was my fault. I drove him into doing it. I caused him to finally crack and do something that went totally against his ways. Yet, I must just keep thinking that it was not me, it was the Palantir. That accursed thing should never have been created! It has caused the ruin of my family; of me!
I do not know what to do. It seems like there is no point to living any more. Faramir will soon die and where will that leave me? No. There is only one option...to burn. I shall burn with him and then we shall both be reunited with you. I will not let my son suffer any longer, and me along with him. See you soon my beloved Finduilas!
Your husband Denethor
Faramir put down that last letter. Tears were flowing down his face. They had told him that his father had burned, but they could not tell him why. Now he knew.
Faramir finished cleaning up the room and then quickly left, taking the small box with him, all of the letters stored back inside. This he took with him to Emyn Arnen. There he stored them in his room, in a place where not even Eowyn would find them. Then he sat down and wrote a short letter.
Dear Father,
I forgive you. I understand now that the Palantir drove you to madness and controlled your actions. I read your letters. I love you Father and I finally understand that, although you never said it, you loved me too.
Your son Faramir
Mina: So how was it? Please let me know in reviews and please leave lots of them!