Faramir took a deep breath before stepping into the room. He had avoided entering this room for years; it was exactly how it had been left, with the exception being a thin sheen of dust covering everything in sight like fresh snow. The bed was unmade, papers spread carelessly over the desk, the curtain pulled aside to allow the fresh sunshine to spill in. Faramir gave a dark chuckle as he moved deeper into the room.

He always was messy.

The desk caught his eye; on top of all the papers was a blue leather bound book with a quill and ink well next to it.

He never wrote!

Faramir sat down in the chair and picked up the book, intrigued. He ran his fingers over it, swiping off the dust. Upon opening it, his heart jolted.

This is the property of Boromir, High-Warden of the White Tower, son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor. If I have perished in the War, this book should go to my brother, Faramir, Captain of Gondor. If anything has happened to him, this should go to Dol Amroth, to the Princes Elphir, Erchirion, and Amrothos, and the Princess Lothiriel.

Faramir blinked again and again. This could not be real. His brother had written something, something meant for him. He flipped past the many entries about himself and war to one towards the middle, dated November 18th, 2999.

Aunt Sirrin has had another child, a girl this time, about 7 months ago. They are calling the baby Lothiriel, and Uncle is beside himself with joy. Amrothos seemed less than happy with the new arrival and would wail if someone was not holding him. I seemed to be his favorite, though he liked being held by Father as well. Elphir and Erchirion are extremely protective of their tiny sister, and Elphir has threatened me with certain death if I was to drop her. The baby, however, is enamored with Faramir. When he is in the room, she will not be held by anyone else but him. I have never seen him look so happy; something in the way she loves him unconditionally gives him peace. Her three troublesome brothers are much more content to follow me around, and badger me for stories of fighting and Orcs.

The passage went on, but Faramir turned back to an earlier entry.

October 23 2993, the Third Age

Mother has been gone for five years this month. It is strange, for a part of me thinks she will suddenly appear, as if it was all a game, like the ones she used to play with Faramir and I. She would be so proud of Faramir, ten years old and reading books even Father is confused by. He has not the heart for fighting, but Father continues to insist upon training him with swords and horses. He is so tall now; he comes very nearly to my shoulder. Father is very hard on him, and Faramir does not understand that it is out of love and fear of losing him than anything else. I have been made a soldier of Gondor, and I am determined to protect my country and my city, but I do not want the same for my brother. Were that he were older so that he would become Steward! I have not the mind for ruling a city and placating the people; that is what Faramir would excel at. He is just and cunning, but moves quicker to pity than scorn than Father. I fear for my brother, for I do not think I could stand to lose him.

Faramir resisted the urge to cry upon the book; proof that his brother had always been behind him and had seen why and how his father had been so stiff and unloving. He turned a few more pages, closer to the end than the beginning.

March 5th 3007, the Third Age

Lothiriel and Amrothos arrived in Minas Tirith a few weeks ago, since Corsairs are nearing Dol Amroth and Imrahil wanted them out of the city. He, Elphir, and Erchirion are off fighting. Amrothos is furious, though he will not say so. He begs for me to train him with wooden swords at all hours of the day, and I have not the heart to refuse him. He is a good little swordsman, though he is very prone to laughing when I "kill" him, and also resorts to knocking me over when he does not win. Lothiriel follows Faramir around, begging for stories and to be told of the "enemy's doings." We all worried for her after Aunt Sirrin passed on two summers ago. She was only six, barely older than Faramir was when Mother died. Erchirion told me that she did not speak for two months after Sirrin died, and would sit in her room in a ball, not doing anything for days at a time. Finally Imrahil carried her down to the sea and sat with her for hours; none of the brothers are sure of what they said, only that after that Lothiriel gradually returned to herself. She is so dear, this little cousin of mine. I have gone searching for Faramir in his customary hiding spot of the library only to find the two of them, Lothiriel curled in his lap as he reads her a story. She is fiercely protective of all of us, like a little lioness in a girl's body. Father made the mistake of critiquing Faramir in front of her, and she launched to her feet, stuck her finger in his face, and said

"Don't you say one more bad thing about Fara! He is the most wonderful Captain in all of Gondor!"

Father was very amused at this, but I would not cross my little cousin for anything in Middle Earth. Amrothos is the same way, getting into fights with stable boys that complain about my late night arrivals after battles. They are both our staunchest supporters. Faramir was off on a mission the other night, and I was tasked with getting them to bed. Amrothos was easy; I tired him out with hours of sword practice, and he fell straight to sleep. Lothiriel was an entirely different story. I tried to just put her in bed and leave, but she grabbed my hand and made me sit.

"Tell me a story, Boro."

I told her I didn't know any stories, and that stories were more Faramir's specialty. She shrugged, smiling sweetly (she could charm armies with that smile) and said it didn't matter.

"I'll tell you a story then." And she did. She told me about playing on the beach with her brothers, how she had fallen and Elphir had carried her all the way home, singing a song that her mother used to sing and she had sworn her mother had been there, watching them with a smile. She told me about a time she had seen me and Faramir play fighting with swords for Erchirion and Amrothos' amusement. She told me how she had hidden under my father's desk and made him smile, and that he should smile more often. She told me that she loved her brothers and Faramir and I and her father more than anything else in the world, except maybe seahorses. Finally, her eyes began to droop and I extracted myself and tried to leave. I was informed that "Princesses can't sleep without their goodnight kisses" and gave her one. Before I could close the door, I heard her.

"Boromir?"

"Yes, Princess?"

"You'll always take care of Fara, right? You promise?"

"Always, little Lothi. Always."

Faramir chuckled at the memory. Lothiriel had taken to him since birth and was not afraid of anyone or anything when it came to defending him. He flipped back to another entry, where his name stood out prominently.

June 30th 3003, the Third Age

We have just returned from a battle and Faramir saved my life. My little brother, saving his foolish Captain from certain death with risk to his own life. I could not believe it. My horse was shot by an Orc arrow; I was pinned beneath it. There was nothing I could do; even I could not lift a horse weighing hundreds of pounds. Faramir appeared and I cursed him, telling him to leave me. He just grinned and set about freeing me.

"Surely you have more faith in me, brother." He laughed. He got some sort of wedge and lifted the horse off. An arrow sailed over his head, barely missing him, and I yanked him down, still cursing him. He gave a chuckle again, and grabbed me under the arms and began dragging me towards our men. He was bleeding; the blood was running from a cut on his forehead and I was yelling to the men to come and help him. The men said we made quite a pair, one yelling with a half-crushed leg, the other bleeding and laughing. Father was somewhat pleased with Faramir, though he seemed more concerned that I was on the mend. I am proud of my brother, and have more faith than ever that he is an excellent leader of men. He is the kind of Captain men will follow to their doom.

Faramir's eyes were wet and he did nothing to stop his tears now. It was killing him to read this, yet he could not stop, turning to yet another page, the last page.

October 7th 3018, the Third Age

I have been tasked with going to Rivendell to assist with a quest. Father believes the One Ring has been found. The Ring! It could end all of our sorrows. Long has Gondor suffered, and here is the key to our relief! Deep down, I believe Faramir should go. He is the one who had a dream about it, he has learned more from Mithrandir about the Rings of old, but Father insists, it must be me. Elphir, Erchirion, Amrothos, and Lothiriel are here to see me off. I had not seen my cousins in some time; they have all grown so much. Elphir is married and has a son! A son for my solemn cousin who reminds me so much of Father now, who looks on his brothers and sister with disdain instead of the love I used to see. They all seem wary of him, unsure of this new brother in place of the second father figure he used to be. Erchirion is a Ranger now, wise and quiet, though I can still see the little boy that would beg Faramir to teach him how to shoot a bow if I look close enough. He has earned quite a reputation for his skill with a bow and his tracking. Amrothos can beat me with a sword now, which he says is my own fault. He is Captain of Dol Amroth, and quite eager to shine just as brightly as his brothers. He also inherited his father's dark looks and fair eyes, which according to Lothiriel, sets all the ladies swooning. Lothiriel is the one I did not recognize. So grown! Gone is the precocious princess who curled in Faramir's lap and rode on my back; in her place is a woman of 19, regal and kind, though her stubbornness has certainly not loss any of its force. She informed me that she still loves Faramir and me, though far more than seahorses now. I almost regret leaving, now when we are all together again. They are all adults now, with stories of their own and lives to live. I hope they will all live to see a new Age, a new Age where Sauron is nothing but a terrible memory. Especially Faramir. He deserves more happiness then he has been given. He deserves a father a loves him for who he is, not for how he is forced to be. He deserves a brother who would stand up to that father. But I must do something to aid my country, my city. It is failing, I can see it. The Strength of Men is crumbling; the attacks of Mordor have grown too strong.

I leave and will hopefully return, High-Warden of the White Tower, son of Denethor II, Steward of Gondor, brother to Faramir, Captain of Gondor.

Faramir shut the book and rubbed his eyes.

If only you had returned, brother. If only.

"Faramir, are you in here?" Faramir lifted his head as his wife came in the door way, smiling softly at him. "What are you reading, my love?" She asked, sitting in his lap. He held it out to her and she gasped as she read the first page. "Oh Faramir…"

"It was a blessing, Eowyn. It is a relief and a greeting from my brother." Eowyn wrapped her arms around him and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Will you keep it with you?" Faramir nodded and made motion to stand, and Eowyn got off his lap.

"Yes, and I will have to show it to Elphir, Erchirion, Amrothos, and Lothiriel. There are memories in here for all of them." Eowyn's lips gave a twitch and Faramir gave her a confused look.

"Speaking of dear Lothiriel, she and Eomer are here." Faramir raised an eyebrow. "And they want to speak to you."

"Ah good, he's finally going to return the favor." Faramir laughed, pulling Eowyn in for a kiss. "What do you think, should I give my blessing or 'think about it'?" Eowyn swatted him lightly.

"Return the favor or you will not be getting any favors from your wife." With that she flounced out of the room, a grin on her face.

Thank you, Boromir. Faramir thought. For giving me a chance to have this. Faramir went out of his brother's room, closing the door. I wonder how you would've handled Lothiriel getting married. An image of his brother attacking Orcs and wordlessly roaring his displeasure came to mind, and Faramir chuckled.

Exactly what I was thinking.