Evening Lessons

Faramir was sitting with his books in front of the hearth, when Boromir came in search of him in the evening. He had just finished the lessons his tutors had given him; it had taken him longer than usual today, for he distracted and unhappy. And the sight of Boromir, for once, did not cheer him as it would have otherwise, for he knew he was to leave tomorrow.

“I came now because I must leave very early tomorrow, and you will be sleeping,” Boromir said softly and sat by Faramir. He had brought apples with him and he held one out to Faramir.

“I’m going to wake up to say goodbye to you, Boromir,” Faramir said frantically, surprised that his brother could think he’d rather sleep than say his farewells.

After all, it would be months before they would meet again. Boromir was to go all the way to Pelargir, to deal with the corsairs’ forays. It was not very far, he knew, but in all their life so far, he and Boromir had rarely ever been away from each other, until Boromir had joined the army last year. But that had been to Osgiliath and that was not so far. Boromir had returned every few weeks regularly to submit reports to his father. And Boromir had been excited about going. He had had a new sword and new boots and despite his own unhappiness, Faramir had felt he’d looked very fine indeed.

He looked even better now, for he was taller and with his sword hanging from his waist, and his hair tied behind his neck, he looked very dashing indeed. But he looked a little sad, Faramir thought.

Boromir gave him a small smile and ruffled his hair gently, “You don’t have to,” he said, though he knew Faramir still would. But there would be little time in the morning for the entire troop would be leaving and he could well imagine the noise and commotion that would ensue.

“I’ll miss you,” he said slinging his arm around his brother’s shoulders.

Faramir sat up, “I’ll miss you too,” he said quietly, “I wish I could come along with you.” He truly wished though that Boromir would not have to go, but that he knew would be far too fanciful.

Boromir’s arm tightened around his shoulders. There was a brief pause before he spoke again, and his voice sounded a little strained, “Not yet. Not for a while yet.”

And then he changed the subject, “I wonder what Pelargir is like. You remember we saw it from the boat on the way to Dol Amroth, but we didn’t stay there. I suppose though that it’s very different from Minas Tirith.”

Faramir thought Boromir looked sad, unlike the last time he’d left, and he wondered suddenly how it felt to be far away from home, and away from the comfort of being near family and all that was familiar.

“Yes, it must be,” he said, “I read about it in my books. It sounds very different.”

“Weren’t you studying?” Boromir said, noticing the books lying on the floor, “Would you like to return to your books? I’ll stay a while here though, if you won’t mind.”

“I’d finished,” Faramir assured him, “I was only reading the astronomers’ books that came from Dol Amroth. Please stay.”

They sat in front of the fire eating the apples quietly.

“What did you read about it?” Boromir asked after a while.

He thought carefully before answering.

“I read about it in the astronomers’ books,” he said, “They say the skies there are very clear and afford them good sightings.”

All the better for anyone on the look out for Corsair ships, Boromir thought grimly.

“Did you know,” Faramir was continuing with much more enthusiasm now, “That the stars over Pelargir are the same as the stars over Minas Tirith?”

He looked at him surprised. He’d known, he realised, although he had never thought of that.

“The stars that father and I will see from the citadel here will be the same you will get to see from your ships there. So it cannot be all that different, can it?” Faramir was asking him anxiously.

“No, I suppose not,” Boromir said smiling, “Not all that different.”

***