[identity profile] engarian.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] b2mem
B2MeM Prompt and Path:Dreams, Red
Format:Short story
Genre:Family
Rating:G
Warnings:None
Characters:Boromir, Denethor, Faramir
Pairings:None
Creator’s Notes:Tolkien provided the sandbox, I merely play with the bucket and shovel he left behind. No profit of any kind is made from my fanworks.
Summary:For three nights, Boromir’s sleep has been invaded by a dream telling him to find Isildur’s Bane in an elven refuge in the far north. He goes to Faramir to seek counsel, only to discover that they have both shared the poetic dream.



A Dream Assignment

"Normally, I do not dream, or if I do, it is of battles of old or the history of Gondor. But now I have had a dream that haunts me. I could ask father's advice, but he is hard-pressed with the defense of our land and difficult to talk to in the best of times. Instead, I’ll find my brother and seek his advice. He is the studious one. Perhaps he will have answers for my questions."

* * * * *

“You? Dream? Boromir, that is unlike you.” Faramir rolled his eyes as he heard his brother's concern.

“Yes, well I am human after all,” I snorted, and ruffled his hair. My brother pulled his head away in annoyance, even as he had when we were small children. “This dream is haunting me. For three nights it has come to me, always in the same manner, always with the same words. Perhaps I should speak to father about it, but I thought to test the waters with your wisdom first.”

“Well then,” Faramir said, leaning back in his chair. The desk in front of him was strewn with opened books, notes and maps, and perched precariously on a stack of tomes by his side was a partially eaten roll and a cooling beverage. “Tell me of this dream of yours, brother.”

“I am afoot and overlooking a vast plain. The sun has barely crossed the horizon and the sky is pale gold, the branches of the trees black tracery against the brightening glow. Everything is absolutely still, like a held breath. Then comes the voice.

“Seek for the Sword that was broken:
In Imladris it dwells;
There shall be counsels taken
Stronger than Morgul-spells.
There shall be shown a token
That Doom is near at hand,”

I stuttered as my brother’s voice joined mine in speaking the last two lines.
“For Isildur's Bane shall waken,
And the Halfling forth shall stand."

I gazed at Faramir and saw my shock echoed on his own face.

“You,” I stammered. “You have had the same dream?”

“Yes, for the past three nights, even as you have had, brother. These books and maps you see strewn across my desk are research into Imladris – what it is, where it might be found, and how to successfully achieve such a journey. I think we must speak to Father about this because it seems that one of the two of us must make this journey.”

I paced over to look at the desktop. “You think it should be you going to this Elven city … homeland … refuge … whatever it is?”

“I think you are needed here as Commander of our troops. I am merely a Ranger and far more expendable than you are. Before we talk to Father, let me show you what I’ve discovered in my research.” Faramir bent over the map and began to describe the road that the journey would have to take. “To the best of my ability, I can only pin Imladris' location down to a general area in the Misty Mountains. Unfortunately, it’s a big mountain range, and Imladris is a very small valley, so finding it won’t be easy.”

We spent several hours combing the maps and choosing possible routes, analyzing both good and bad scenarios and outcomes; and time after time, we returned to the dream. “What does it mean, ‘Isildur’s bane shall waken and what is a Halfling?” I asked, pacing out my frustration across the far side of the chamber.

“Isildur’s Bane is a term from long ago. In obscure writings, it says that Isildur had a ring, cut from the hand of the Enemy, and that he refused to give it up, even on the advice of the wise. According to legend, that ring led his warriors into ambush, also leading to his own death by drowning in the swift waters of the Anduin near the Gladden Fields. It was long ago and there are many tales, most of which don’t agree on many points, but all agree on two points: one, that Isildur had a ring taken from Sauron’s hand; and two, that he drowned in the Anduin River.” Faramir leaned over his desk, shaking his head. “I do not understand how Isildur’s Bane could return. It has long been thought that this ring was swept out to sea by the strong current of the river.”

He continued. “Boromir, we have no choice. We must bring this dream before Father. He is wise and has studied much lore. Perhaps he will understand it better than either of us. In any case, it is he who will decide which of us will accept the quest.”

We embraced. Although I wanted this assignment, I would be content if Father asked Faramir to follow the words of the dream. Our only platform of agreement is that one of us must obey the dream and search for the hidden refuge of Imladris. A request for an audience was sent to Father and his answer was quick to return. “Come immediately to my private chambers.” We left Faramir’s rooms and began walking to meet with our father.

*****

“A dream, you say?” Father asked as his stare blazed hot at both of us.

“Yes, Father,” replied Faramir. “A dream that we have both had for the past three nights.”

“Boromir, what say you?” asked Denethor, ignoring my brother.

“It is as Faramir says, Father. We have each had the same dream over the past three nights. It seems clear that one of us must attempt this journey. We are being summoned.”

Denethor walked to the window slit, turning quickly to face us again. “I hold no strong belief in the words of elves, wizards or ancient texts, but if this is truly Isildur’s Bane found once again, it could be the weapon we need to save Gondor from the Enemy. I cannot leave the finding and carrying of such a thing of power to just anyone.

"Boromir, you shall undertake this journey. You will return to me with this weapon and together we will succeed where all else has failed.”

“But Father," I said. "Faramir is better suited to this journey and I have the land’s defense to coordinate.”

“No! My word on this is final. You shall make the journey to Imladris. You leave at dawn.” Denethor glared at us, then turned away. “That is all. Leave me.”

We bowed and left the chamber, closing the door softly behind us.

“Come, brother. Let’s return to my room and review the route once more while we eat. Dawn will be here quickly and you must be ready to ride hard when it arrives.” Faramir linked his arm with mine and we strode down the hallway. My thoughts were whirling. Imladris, it was all a dream, wasn’t it?

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