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Faramir's Second Chance (PG-13) Print

Written by Morwen

17 January 2013 | 25743 words | Work in Progress

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Chapter Four

Author note: Happy New Year! Thanks for reading my latest update – I always appreciate readers and reviews. :) This chapter was the hardest for me to write, and I hit a lot of writer’s block while doing it – put I needed to get this out in order to get to the good stuff that’s coming in the next few chapters. Please hang in there with me. :) More (better!) stuff to come!


As springtime merged to summer, the trees of Rivendell turned beautifully green. Faramir’s first few months in Rivendell were filled with new experiences, all of which were interesting, entertaining, or – best of all – educational. Whatever new adventures lay ahead of him, he became more and more prepared to take them on. Because he was officially being healed by Elrond for his thin weight, the elf had decided to educate him while he was in his care; the boy often took lessons with the elf lord, who taught him more elvish grammar as well as arithmetic and writing. Faramir took to all of these subjects well, although he enjoyed learning the history of the elves the most. These history lessons were unique: Faramir and Elrond usually sat in Elrond’s study with cups of tea, while the elf spoke of everything he had seen in his life. 3,000 years worth of history, more or less, was plenty for Faramir to learn. He was particularly intrigued with learning of the first Great War, the war of the ring. When Elrond spoke of Mordor’s forces once again stirring even at that present moment, Faramir grew concerned. He knew that war was brewing, but felt helpless to do anything about it. He mentioned this to Elrond.

“I think you have nothing to fear, young one – you are the Steward’s son, and you are bound to be a good warrior. You already show great skill with the bow, although I do hope that you will begin learning how to wield a sword, like Men usually do. You must learn your own heritage’s skills.” But at the mentioning of the his father the Steward, Faramir had lowered his eyes, sinking a bit in his seat. The happiness in his face had been wiped away, and replaced with a forlorn expression that Elrond did not like.

“I apologize, Faramir; I did not intend to upset you, I hope and trust that you know that.”

“I know it – but it still makes me sad.”

“As I am sure it does.” Elrond poured more tea for the both of them, deciding that now was a good time to take a break from their lesson. He knew that he had healing to do for Faramir in this way, also – not only was Faramir physically weakened, he was emotionally weakened as well. The boy seemed up to talking about the subject, so the other school lessons would have to wait for another day. “Do you miss being at home in Gondor, Faramir?”

“Rivendell is starting to feel like my home,” Faramir said, the words coming out of his mouth before he even really knew what he was saying. He seemed shocked at his own answer.

“And is that all right with you?” Elrond probed, genuinely curious.

“I love Rivendell. It is very beautiful, and there are so many libraries, and of course, I am with such nice people.” Faramir paused, and the tension in the air told Elrond that he had something more to say. Surely enough, it came through.

“…I do miss the White City. I miss Minas Tirith. I miss Boromir. I miss visiting with the rangers of Ithilien, and I even…” He hesitated, looking uncertain about what he was planning on saying next. “Go on, little one,” Elrond gently urged him on.

“Well – I think I even miss my father.” Faramir averted his eyes for a moment, looking ashamed, before glancing back to Elrond to see if he was angry. Of course, the elf was not; Elrond was glad that his youngest guest was being so honest. It was something he so rarely found in Men. “It would be perfectly natural for you to miss you father even after everything you two have been through,” Elrond said. “He is your father, and you are his son, and there are some bonds that simply cannot be broken. Family ties are one of those strong bonds.” Faramir simply sat there, looking absorbed in his own thoughts. Elrond considered his next question before asking it aloud, figuring it was okay.

“Do you remember your father before your mother died, Faramir?” This question snapped Faramir out of his thoughts, and he also considered his words before speaking them.

“I do but only very vaguely, I was so young,” Faramir replied simply. But there was a tone to his voice that informed Elrond that he did not want to speak about it. The elf pressed on anyway, to see where the conversation led.

“Your father loved you very much, Faramir. I do believe that he still loves you, but is so stricken with grief that he cannot show any love. You remind him far too much of his wife, your dear mother. You are so much like Finduilas.”

“You knew my mother?” Faramir looked up in curiosity. The elf nodded, saying, “I did. She died at such a young age. She was kind, but sad… much like you. She was very gentle, quite beautiful, and very gifted and talented at many things. She, too, loved and desired knowledge. She spent most of her time with you, since Boromir was so tended to by your father. She worried that you would feel neglected, so she spent far more time with you. I only knew her after she grew weak, though; your father had asked me to come and visit her, and attempt to figure out what ailed her. She was inexplicably weak.” Elrond also seemed to be lost in thought now. “She was supposed to live far longer than she did, and there was nothing I could do.”

“I am sure you did all you could,” Faramir said, his voice soft, leaning forward to place his hand on the elf’s. Elrond realized that the boy was trying to make him feel better.

“You are so kind-hearted, Faramir, even after all you have been through. That is most impressive. It is a wonderful and rare quality.” Then Elrond noticed that the boy’s eyes were watering up, and he was sniffling a bit. Elrond handed him a soft cloth that was on his desk, saying, “I am sorry to have upset you, little one. Did you never hear what your mother was like?”

“Nobody who knew her was ever really allowed to tell me about her, since father does not permit anyone to speak of her,” Faramir sniffed. He wiped his face with the cloth. “The only person who told me anything about her was Faramir, and he only mentioned that she was beautiful, and that she loved me. Now it is no wonder that my father cannot stand me… He does not permit anyone to talk about mother, but I am a glaring impersonation of her, every day.” As Faramir came to this realization, he started to tremble. Elrond embraced the boy, holding him tightly.

“Your father has made countless mistakes with you, Faramir, all of which he will eventually regret. And while you are much like your mother, your father should realize that you are indeed another person – you are unique, and everyone – including him – should be impressed by who you are. I will forever see you as your own person, because you are unique like the rest of us.”


Within the first month of his arrival to his new home, Faramir had finally gotten to meet and spend time with Lady Arwen. Her grace and beauty were altogether fascinating to him; everything about her was intriguing to him, from the color of her eyes to her laugh, even to the way she breathed. Arwen was also incredibly wise, which made her all the more endearing to him. To any question he asked, she had a satisfying answer. He was profoundly fascinated and inspired by Arwen when she showed him her beautiful sword, and she spoke briefly of the times in which she had to use it. She allowed him to hold the blade. She so inspired him to become a strong warrior. If she could be such a heroine and elven fighter in desperate times, surely he could do the same. Perhaps one day, he could even impress her. The thought made him positively giddy.

Although Faramir knew that Arwen only had these same strange feelings for Aragorn, he could not help but adore her. He sometimes wondered if she knew that he adored her, and he suspected she did. But even if she knew, Arwen was kind enough not to confront him about it, or even acknowledge it. She did seem to enjoy his friendship, though, and enjoyed having conversations with him during the lazy days in the House.

Faramir always grew ashamed when Elrond saw him with his beautiful daughter, however, and Elrond noticed that the boy would often get up and escape as quickly as possible from Arwen whenever he was present. Elrond knew that this would not do, this discomfort. Elrond pulled him gently aside one afternoon into a room with some privacy, when Faramir had escaped Arwen once again while he had been in their presence.

“Faramir, you do not have to run away every time I see you and Arwen together,” Elrond stated. “Why do you do this?” Even though the elf knew full well that the boy was embarrassed about showing him that he was attracted to his own daughter, he knew that this information had to get out in the open in order to make Faramir feel more comfortable in the house. The best way to do this was to ask the other person and feign innocence, and allow the other individual to come up with all of the answers themselves, rather than telling them the answers. Faramir struggled to answer the question, even though he knew the exact reasons for his own behavior. He looked to his feet and shuffled them uneasily on the floor, not wanting to say a word. However, Elrond just waited, so he finally said something.

“I don’t want you to see me with her.”

“Why, little one? It looked as though the two of you were having a good time with each other. You were only talking, what is the harm in that?” Faramir shuffled his feet again, gulping. Elrond felt badly, but knew that this had to be done. How else would Faramir get more comfortable with this new part of himself, his feelings of adoration and love?

“We were having a good time,” he said slowly, affirming Elrond’s statement.

“What was the trouble then, little one? Do I interrupt you two?” Elrond probed.

“No!… I just – I don’t know,” Faramir rushed, becoming anxious. He saw Elrond’s waiting glance and rushed out “I fancy her.” Elrond smiled. Ah, he thought, Now we are getting somewhere. “I know you fancy her, Faramir,” Elrond said. “We talked about this a few months previously, I am sure you remember.” Faramir nodded. “Then what is the matter, little one? I already know that you fancy her, and I do not mind. You do not have to hide it from me, I already know you fancy her. It is perfectly natural for you to want to spend time with her, and I encourage it.” Faramir was shocked by the last statement. He had to inquire, or it would drive him slowly insane. “Why? Why encourage it?” he asked. Elrond first sat the two of them down on a nearby bench in a quiet corner of the room, before answering in a gentle voice.

“Faramir, it is most important for you to grow used to your own feelings. As you grow, you will experience many different emotions and think many different thoughts. These next few years will be filled with turmoil, but everyone must go through with them. I am truly sorry if I am making you uncomfortable you by discussing this openly, but I think it will help you in the end. It helped Aragorn, and Legolas, my twin sons, and it helps many other elflings, so I expect that for you it will be no different. It even helped Arwen, when she was young.” He paused, giving the young one a moment to process this information. “Try not to be embarrassed, even though you may feel confused. Simply enjoy your time with my Arwen, and try not to worry about things too much. It is not good for your health.”

While Faramir was still in Elrond’s healing care, Elrond would come into his chambers periodically throughout the day and night to be sure that all was well with his youngest patient. Faramir seemed to be healing quite nicely over the next couple of months, during the summer, when the weather was warm and mild and Faramir was able to eat more good meals and build up his strength a bit more. Just as Elrond had said before, he was beginning to shoot up in height like a sprout in springtime. Faramir grew several inches over the course of the summer.

“Bless the Valar, Faramir, you may very well become taller than me,” Elrond said one morning, when he was giving the boy his check-up. Faramir seriously doubted the elf’s words; Elrond was quite tall, and he himself quite short. Still, though, he felt good about growing taller. He also found that his arms were growing longer, and Elrond ended up giving him a new bow for his archery practice. “This little one will have to be given to another elfling, for you are now too big,” the healer had said with a smile. He was quite obviously proud of Faramir, far more proud of him than Denethor ever had been.

One summer day, however, when Elrond had been busy throughout the day with healing other patients and attending meetings, he did not notice until the evening meal had come that he had not glimpsed his youngest house member all day. Elrond asked Erestor about the boy’s whereabouts, but Erestor also admitted that he had not seen the boy all day, especially since it was not a school day.

“Perhaps he was in the library?” Elrond said to Erestor as they ate.

“I do not believe so, my lord… I was in there today, several times, looking up some information. Young Faramir was not there at any of those times.” When Elrond received that bit of information, he finished his meal rather quickly and decided to investigate whether or not Faramir was in his quarters. The boy’s absence concerned him, although Rivendell was safe enough for Faramir to be anywhere. It was simply the lack of the boy’s presence that made him concerned. Elrond had never fully lost track of an elfling, not even the adventurous Arwen or her twin brothers when they were but young elflings, so he was certain he would find the boy.

Elrond knocked upon Faramir’s chamber door, softly at first, then knocking a little bit louder. There was no response. “Faramir?” No response. The elf knocked again and called his name once more before opening the door a crack, peering inside, his eyebrows furrowed in sincere concern. He felt relieved, however, when he saw Faramir in the far corner of the room, hiding somewhat behind the bed and some of the gauze curtains. Those blue eyes, however, looked at him from across the room. The expression on the boy’s face looked somewhere between startled and guilty. The elf stepped into the room, closing the door behind himself.

“Faramir? Have you been in here all day?” he asked. Faramir nodded, but remained silent. Elrond took a few steps closer to the boy, assessing the situation.

“Is something wrong?” the elf asked. “Are you feeling ill?” Again the boy nodded. “What’s wrong, Faramir? Can you speak?” the elf asked. Faramir shook his head this time. By now Elrond had approached the boy, sitting him down in a chair. He started to feel Faramir’s neck and throat, his brow furrowed once again. After he found nothing physically wrong with Faramir’s neck he looked into the boy’s eyes, searching for some sort of answer. “You are sparking my concern. You can breathe, but you cannot speak – that is peculiar. You have not been ill, so you cannot have a sore throat. I am at a loss.” Elrond watched as Faramir cleared his throat.

“I can speak,” Faramir finally whispered. He feared talking any louder.

“Can you speak in a normal tone of voice and not a whisper?” Elrond asked. Faramir nodded and said, “But I fear doing it…” With those five words alone, Elrond had a very good idea of what was going on. The boy was now hiding his face in his hands, his face obviously flushed.

“Faramir, have you been hiding out in your room all day due to your voice lowering?” Elrond asked, to confirm if this was, indeed, actually what was going on. It would not be the first time he had seen someone young do it. Faramir nodded, hanging his head.

“But you cannot hide in your chambers all day simply because of this,” Elrond explained, holding the boy’s hand and stroking it to give him some comfort. “You must not let these things rule your life. You must not be afraid, there is no reason to be.”

“But it is horrible! I remember when Boromir had to go through with this. Father teased him all the while. Boromir hated it… I don’t want to go through with it, I don’t.” He sounded pitiful. “Your father was cruel to tease, Faramir. I hope you know that none of that nonsense will happen here. If someone even tries, they will hear from me specifically. I will see to it.” Elrond was perplexed, thinking of Boromir’s plight, and felt relieved that he at least had rescued Faramir just in time. Surely he would have taken much more teasing from his father that Boromir ever did. The elf held Faramir gently, and stroked his hair. He knew it would soothe the child. “All is well.”

“I do not wish to speak again.” Though Faramir was being serious, there was also a hint of joking in his voice. Elrond couldn’t hide a chuckle before saying, “Come, now, you must speak. Surely you understand that you will get over this, in time. You must not despair, you are better than that. And you must continue your lessons in our native language, this must not stop you from learning the speech of the elves.” The elf gave him a small smile as the boy looked up, his eyes sparkling in anticipation of learning the elven language.

“Would you like me to prepare you a tonic?” Elrond asked. “Will it help?” Faramir asked in return. The elf stood up and moved toward a kettle filled with water, which had been warming over the fire. “It will soothe your throat. Some tea with lemon and honey would do you good.”

“Thank you,” was all the boy replied, still flushed. “I never would have wanted you to see me this way,” he continued, putting his head down. “I never thought this would happen.”

“What did you believe, Faramir? Did you believe you were invincible to adolescence? No, that would not be good. How else will grow into a man? Your brother survived it, and so will you. It takes a few years of time, and some experiences, but you are strong, and this is part of getting there. It is a necessary evil.” Faramir was amazed by how relaxing Elrond’s voice was, no matter how tense the situation. He relaxed into his chair as Elrond measured honey and sugar into the cup and talked. He squeezed a bit of fresh lemon in for good measure, and the aroma filled the room. “I remember so many years ago, young one, when I myself was growing into maturity; it was a tumultuous time, I will have you know. And my twin sons… well… they were quite a lot to deal with. They had to endure my own wrath.” The elf smiled to himself as he stirred tea leaves into the lemon, sugar, and honey mixture. He inhaled the pleasant scent of the mix as he walked back to the boy and handed the warm cup to him.

“This will help. It will soothe you, and help you to relax.” He walked to the side of Faramir’s bed, pulling back the covers. “I know it is early, but you should sleep instead of being anxious.” Elrond did not mention that he placed a bit of a sleeping draught to the drink the boy was now consuming. Elrond bid Faramir a good evening and left him alone to think, ponder, and dream.


As the summer and early autumn months came and went, Elrond observed how well Faramir was learning elvish battle tactics of the bow, and Erestor was beginning to teach him how to use the elvish blades in addition to the bow. Elrond noted that Faramir had certainly grown taller, and thankfully his voice had evened out a bit, becoming several octaves lower over time.

“He is quite skilled with the blades as well as the bow, Master Elrond,” Erestor said one day, when he visited Elrond in his study. “I predict that he will become quite the warrior, and may shock his fellow men when he returns home.”

“I agree with you; he will grow strong. And I think a bit of shock would do his own father some good,” Elrond said rather darkly. Elrond could imagine the fear in Denethor’s eyes at Faramir’s return, his boy fully grown and trained, and quite frankly, capable of kicking the man’s ass. He smiled wickedly to himself, before forcing himself to stop thinking such things. It was no good to be so evil. “Our Steward Denethor must awaken if we are to have any hope of defeating Sauron, or at least keeping his evil at bay.”

“Indeed. I feel that Faramir will be serving an important role, with his position as the Steward’s son – but are you really planning to send him back?” Erestor asked. Elrond could hear a hint of anxiety in his chief assistant’s voice, something that didn’t happen very often. Elrond knew that Erestor cared for Faramir as much as he did. “I think we both know that he must face his own father eventually,” was all he said. He stood by the window, musing about something, and Erestor knew from the concentrated expression on his master’s face that he was in no frame of mind to speak to anyone. Elrond often preferred to be alone with his own thoughts.

Elrond himself had pondered the very question Erestor had asked aloud, wondering where exactly Faramir would end up residing in his adult years. He had rescued the boy from the wrath of Denethor, and he had been successful. But at that point, he had no considered where the boy would go. He was surprised to find that his own heart was heavy at the thought of Faramir returning to Gondor, the same type of heaviness a parent feels for a child leaving home for the first time. How could he have already grown so attached to the child? He was just a child… but Elrond supposed it was the child’s past that made him feel so much anxiety for Faramir’s future. Would he send the boy with his archery skills to become the greatest ranger of Ithilien? Should he keep him safe in Rivendell to do scholarly research in the libraries and archives? Should he return to Gondor, to the service of his father? The latter would be Elrond’s last resort, but he had to figure out what Faramir wanted, as well as figure out what would be morally correct. He paced the floor, eyes focused on the designs engraved into the tiles below his feet.

“Elrond?” came the voice he had learned to know so well. Elrond looked up to see Faramir standing in the doorway, looking quite gangly and covered in a light sheen of sweat. The sword in his hand proved that Elrond’s guess that he boy had been practicing swordplay was correct. “Good afternoon, Faramir. Have you completed your studies for the day?”

“Yes, I have.” The way Faramir hesitated in the doorway indicated that he had something to say, but did not know how to say it. Elrond looked to him expectantly, all ears. Faramir lowered his eyes, saying, “I am sorry – but I overheard both Erestor and yourself speaking a few moments ago.” For once, Elrond was surprised. Erestor must not have closed the door to his study when they had been speaking. Growing slightly panicked, he remembered his words. ” I think we both know that he must face his own father eventually.”

“You are concerned about what I stated before,” Elrond said. He sat down at his desk and rummaged through some papers. “It disturbed you. I am sorry, Faramir, it was something that your ears were not supposed to hear.” He turned around to face the boy, guilt growing in his chest.

“Do not be sorry,” was all Faramir said. Elrond sighed, reflecting upon Faramir’s gentle nature. “You truly are so much what your mother once was, Faramir,” Elrond mused. “She was so like you. I do miss Finduilas, but I see her in you – and that comforts me.”

“But what will I do? What will I confront my father about? What can I possibly do to make him listen? He will not listen to me; he never has.” Faramir’s eyes expressed severe anxiety his body restless. “He does not listen to me like you do.”

“Your father listens to no one, save for a very few people, such as his advisors and your brother. Though it may be difficult to see, that is simply how your father behaves now. Men can be weak, but you… I feel that you will be strong. And that strength will stem and grow from facing your own father.” Elrond had spent a good deal of thought on that. “ I think you have already felt that destiny in your own heart.”

“I know. I have felt it. I knew I would have to go back to him one day. I just don’t know how much of an impact I will have on him.” Elrond could hear the defeat and anxiety in the boy’s voice, and it worried him, if only slightly. He turned around, and Faramir saw that the elf’s face was now pleasant. “Do not worry now. The time for this will come, but it is not now – and when the time comes for you to face these fears, you will feel much more prepared and far less troubled.” As the boy left to return to his swordplay, Elrond was left to ponder the not-so-distant future of the Steward’s youngest, most gifted son.

NB: Please do not distribute (by any means, including email) or repost this story (including translations) without the author's prior permission. [ more ]

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17 Comment(s)

This was indeed a lovely story. I hope that you will continue with it.
Thank you for letting us read it

— Ingrid    Wednesday 30 December 2009, 13:40    #

It’s an interesting beginning with a very young Faramir who does already have a hint of the older man. It will be interesting to see his journey there.

— Bell Witch    Wednesday 30 December 2009, 21:55    #

I like it a lot! There is plenty of interestingness here that would be nice to see continued (ahem hint hint)

— AlexanderW    Thursday 31 December 2009, 11:51    #

Warm story!Please continue!XD

— xeleyouxe    Friday 1 January 2010, 0:02    #

I like what you have written so far and I’d like to see what else you have planed for us.

— waterwolf    Friday 1 January 2010, 7:41    #

Oh, it is truly an interesting idea and very well done! Write more!
Thank you and Happy New Year!

— Anastasiya    Saturday 2 January 2010, 7:30    #

I hope you write more, I would love to see Arwen interact with a young Faramir. I bet she’d have a huge impact on who he becomes as an adult.
And to see Faramir return to Gondor as an adult would be nice too, Denethor’s reaction would be priceless.

— Anna    Wednesday 24 February 2010, 0:49    #

Oh, thank you everyone! I’m sorry it’s taken me a whole year to get back here, I’ve been so busy with school and work! But now I’m on winter break, and have plenty of time to write – so I’m going to write a bunch of chapters now! I’m inspired, as well as interested in your ideas. Keep those ideas comin’! I love to hear what other people are thinking. :) Thanks for your comments, and look for updates SOON!

— Morwen    Friday 17 December 2010, 2:05    #

I love this so much and your writing is brilliant!!! Will this be a slash story with Elrond (sorry if this is a dumb question)? I can’t wait for the next chapter and more interactions with the elves!

— Lina    Tuesday 21 December 2010, 16:37    #

Thank you for reading, Lina! You are very kind. :) I think this will actually end up being a slash story in a few more chapters, but I’m taking time to develop the characters and really like exploring what Faramir’s childhood in Rivendell would be like. No questions are ever dumb, thanks for asking! The rating for this story will probably change soon…!

— Morwen    Tuesday 21 December 2010, 19:11    #

Sweet Faramir.
Thank you for the nice story.
PLEASE, keep writing. ;)

— Lille Mermeid    Friday 24 December 2010, 7:30    #

Thank you so much, Lille Mermaid. I appreciate it. :) I’m working on the fourth chapter now, it should be up in a few days. Happy holidays!

— Morwen    Friday 24 December 2010, 8:52    #

very nice indeed. you should keep this up;you’ve got good ideas and a nice writing style. good luck!

— yavanna    Friday 24 December 2010, 9:14    #

Thank you so much, Yavanna! You’re very kind. The next chapter update is coming soon, ‘specially since I know there are readers!

— Morwen    Tuesday 28 December 2010, 7:31    #

Oh, I am so happy to see you have updated this. I really hope you write more, and delve into what happens after this. I really enjoyed reading this, especially the kiss between them. :)

— Avid Reader    Sunday 20 January 2013, 1:24    #

What a wonderful story. I hope you continue the tale. Thanks for sharing this with your readers.

— SparkyTAS    Sunday 9 October 2016, 11:22    #

I really like the whole concept of Faramir being adopted by Elrond, it’s so cute

— comrade hannah    Monday 22 July 2019, 22:50    #

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