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"Do the young men of Gondor think of nothing but war?" Mithrandir growled, half to himself. Perhaps it was not to be wondered at; Minas Tirith was, after all, within sight of the Shadow. In such a place, people thought constantly of danger and praised those who defended their city. Still, the boy he remembered had been a promising student of the arts of peace. It would be a sad loss if he too had learned to prize warfare above all else. “Alas, sometimes it seems that we must,” Faramir answered ruefully. “But now that you are here, I hope you will teach me about other things, as you used to do! You promised once, long ago, to tell me of the time you visited the Elven havens and saw the harbor where their ships sail for the West.” The wistfulness of his tone eased Mithrandir’s mind. Perhaps, he reflected, it was not only the need to find information which had brought him to the city this winter instead of searching for Gollum immediately, as he had originally planned. Perhaps some power understood that this young man was in need of his teaching and had directed him here. "I shall make sure to spare time for that," he promised. "But do you not have duties to attend to?" "Sometimes," Faramir replied. "If there are more orc-raids, I may be called to go out with the city guard or the Rangers of Ithilien, as my father pleases. He says it is important for me to learn something of the duties of all Gondor's companies. He does the same with Boromir – he is home now for year's end, but I think Father intends him to serve at Cair Andros for a time." They turned a corner and emerged at the edge of the Court of the Fountain. The paved paths had been swept clean of snow, but an unmarked layer of it covered the grass around the White Tree. The tower doors, standing wide open to welcome guests, flooded the courtyard with warm, golden light. Glittering stars studded the clear night sky. The two men's backs were to the east, shutting out the pitiless Shadow rising there. Though he had not visited Minas Tirith as often as the north, Mithrandir had walked this path many times before. The first time had been a brilliant spring day when the Tree was in blossom, already an ancient symbol of Gondor then, though still strong and healthy. Its white blossoms were each the size of a man's fist, their perfume strong enough to fill the Citadel and yet delicate enough not to cloy even when one paused beside the fountain, as he and Faramir did now. Water played around the base of the Tree despite the cold weather, for it was warmed deep underground before emerging here. Faramir gazed at the bare branches furred with a coating of snow, and a smile played about his lips. "I like the Tree best in winter," he commented in a 123
soft voice. Surprised, Mithrandir asked, "And why is that?" "Because now it does not seem dead, for other trees are just as bare. It looks as if it might be only sleeping, gathering strength to flower again in spring." It seemed only a daydream, and yet, Mithrandir had learned in his long life never to call anything impossible. "Would you like to see that?" "Yes," Faramir answered simply and without hesitation. "More than anything. It must have been beautiful." "It was," said Mithrandir, almost to himself. Faramir glanced at him oddly, as if intending to question him, but was interrupted by a shout from the door. Boromir was striding toward them, clad in a coat of deep blue over a fine linen shirt. As he had already been a teenager on Mithrandir's last visit, his features had not changed much in the intervening time. They had matured and become more defined, however, and his air of easy authority had deepened. He nodded courteously to Mithrandir, but his first words were for his brother. "There are you are, Faramir! Father is calling for you inside. He wishes to see you immediately." Faramir stiffened very slightly. "Then I had best not keep him waiting," he answered quickly. "I will see you both at the celebration." He bowed and hurried into the tower. "Has he displeased his father?" Mithrandir asked, watching him go. There was a short pause as Boromir seemed to consider how best to answer. Though he was always civil, he had never truly warmed to Mithrandir, who suspected that Denethor had taught Boromir to mistrust him. Why the lesson had not extended to Faramir, the wizard could not guess; he was only grateful that it had not. "Father's mind has been much burdened with cares of state these past months," Boromir said at last. "Faramir tells me he spends long hours shut up in the tower, devising strategies against the enemy. It has made him difficult to please." He gestured toward the door. "Come, I will escort you." He turned to go, but Mithrandir remained for a moment. On an impulse, he asked, "And what do you think of the White Tree? Would you like to see it in flower?" Boromir glanced back over his shoulder. "Yes, certainly," he responded without enthusiasm. "But that is impossible, of course. It is only a reminder of the days of the kings. They will not come again." "Unless the king should return," Mithrandir reminded him. Boromir shrugged slightly. "True. But I will concern myself with that when 124
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Table of Contents Introduction by C
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Introduction by Cressida and Lilan,
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EdorasLass I've been writing LOTR f
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Nancy Brooke Like many I first came
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They talked a little while eating,
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An Ill-Conceived Notion by Illwynd
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“Gailon, have you any liquor in y
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in this condition, Ciryandil could
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The rest of the night passed withou
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Boromir was already about to give a
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Grief by Gwyneth The person sitting
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23 Boromir averted his eyes from t
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she is gone, and all your hopes and
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Sea Food by Annmarwalk Author’s n
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Summer 2990, T.A. Rumours and Memor
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“Is that true?” “Aye. I read
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Journeys in High Places by Illwynd
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“I know your excuses by now. You
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They walked through ever-changing l
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chirped. It was a silence like of t
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covering of snow; the ever-blowing
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Several hours later, Boromir sat hu
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“I cannot spot them; can you see
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Faramir thought for a moment, then
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him more terrible than to die in ba
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numbed, and their feet, kicking thr
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Leaves on the Wind: Signaling Storm
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and you under the sun. It puts me i
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door. Still, I will take comfort, a
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The time of our separation is over,
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They began to pass through the main
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"But...have you ever done this befo
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snip "I don't think so, little brot
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Faramir looked at the table beside
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alongside him. The warm breeze stir
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son," he said. "May I assume this h
Page 74 and 75: Denethor did not seem at all surpri
Page 76 and 77: An observer might wonder what it wa
Page 78 and 79: name. Better to be Anárion and die
Page 80 and 81: another thing he’d learned from M
Page 82 and 83: So this must be the guest from Roha
Page 84 and 85: Boys at Play by Khorazîr 83
Page 86 and 87: I did not know any Rangers; I hoped
Page 88 and 89: They saw guards of the Citadel and
Page 90 and 91: to identify plants by their leaves,
Page 92 and 93: Elchim did not laugh, though Halhig
Page 94 and 95: “You cannot wander about alone at
Page 96 and 97: wondered how hard it would be to sl
Page 98 and 99: He laughs, showing fine straight te
Page 100 and 101: sadness. I wish that we could have
Page 102 and 103: I pack my things into a few small b
Page 104 and 105: Boromir dragged a chair to the wind
Page 106 and 107: ‘No, Boromir, that was not why I
Page 108 and 109: The grime idea had come to Faramir;
Page 110 and 111: To their great dismay, that proved
Page 112 and 113: Something in his face clearly made
Page 114 and 115: Finally, they were at the door to t
Page 116 and 117: ‘Something tells me you are not a
Page 118 and 119: His eldest was lying sprawled acros
Page 120 and 121: ‘Awaken your brother, ’tis rath
Page 122 and 123: oof and cracked it in several place
Page 126 and 127: I see it." They walked to the great
Page 128 and 129: "To the new year!" the guests repea
Page 130: Still, Mithrandir thought, it had b
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