I unfortunately don't own these characters, nor make any profit from them - not financially anyway, but I do profit emotionally, because I adore them.
"Prison!" exclaimed Denethor. "I am to be imprisoned?"
"Sorry," shrugged Faramir, with not the slightest hint of compassion. "But no-one is above the law. Or so you have always said Father."
"Of course," suggested Boromir, "For a price........."
"I give you money and I stay a free man?" asked Denethor suspiciously.
The brothers nodded.
"You are corrupt," said their father. "Power has corrupted you - especially you Faramir. I cannot believe that I have been so foolish. To play into your hands...."
"It's that or prison," said Faramir, enjoying watching his father squirm. To be in control, to hold sway over his father, was a new experience for him - and he was enjoying it.
"Very well," said Denethor, although it went against all his principles. He was a man of honour, Steward of Gondor.....that he should be reduced to this because of his reckless spending, and his poor judgement.
He looked at his sons. Had he not always pandered to Boromir's every whim? Shown him nothing less that adoration and devotion from the moment he was born? But it wasn't Boromir who held the upper hand at this moment - it was Faramir, clever, subtle, astute and conniving Faramir. How could he have underestimated his youngest son so much - how could he have been so wrong! The boy had bided his time, deceiving both his father and brother about his intentions, until it was too late, and they were powerless to stop him. But of course, between the brothers existed an unbreakable bond - Boromir would survive because Faramir would allow him to do a deal. His sons would form an alliance against him - it wasn't fair!
Denethor glowered at his sons. He wouldn't forget this act of betrayal by his eldest - his heir! And as for Faramir - he sat there looking so innocent, big blue puppy-dog eyes and that butter-wouldn't-melt expression which always fooled everyone- except the Steward of course. He would get his revenge he vowed...maybe not today, or tomorrow, but he would make them suffer. He allowed himself a satisfied smirk as he revelled in the thought.
Boromir was lazing back nonchalantly, quite unconcerned about his young brother's sudden rise to power - there had been far too many times in his life when the young man had been low in confidence and self-esteem, belittled by his demanding father and made to feel inadequate, so if this was his moment, then let him enjoy it, for he deserved it.
"I have no money left," Denethor said in defeat. He had paid everything he had to stay out of prison, but Faramir wasn't finished.
"Your dwelling on the 6th level - on the Street of Light - you have not paid the rent."
"I cannot!" Denethor replied, "Have you no pity? How can you do this to your father?"
"Sorry," said Faramir, his expression plainly showing that he was no such thing. "But if you can't pay, then there is no place for you here."
Denethor stood up, his eyes ablaze with fury, and swept his arm across the table, the contents of which scattered across the floor, as the Steward stormed out of the room.
"He didn't take that too well," said Boromir.
"He didn't, did he," grinned Faramir, "I must make sure I thank Mithrandir."
"And what was it that your Fairy Godfather called this?" said Boromir, as he picked up the scattered items from the floor.
Faramir looked at the box on the chair beside him.
"Monopoly," he said....