Hello there! This was originally going to be including in a different story but I was happy with it like this so…here it is! This is just a short little thingy, one-shot. I hope you like it!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything! Get it! NOTHING!
A Mother's Love
High in the citadel of Minas Tirith, Boromir and Faramir sat side by side on the marble floors. Pieces of parchment were spread out in front of them and different colored paints were strewn everywhere. Their father, Denethor who was the Steward of Gondor, and mother, Finduilas, were seated a little ways up the hall. The lady was sitting in the black throne while she massaged her husband's shoulders, who sat in front of her on the stairs. Her eyes strayed to her two boys and felt a smile creep up on her lips.
"Faramir?" Boromir whispered so his parents wouldn't hear. The younger boy looked up at his brother with a curious smile.
"What?" He replied just as quietly.
"What are you painting for papa and mama?" With a grin, Faramir slid his painting over to the older boy.
"I think mama will like it." He said proudly though he spoke with a small lisp. Boromir's eyes poured over the painting and he frowned slightly.
"Yours is better then mine." He muttered, looking back down to his own painting. Faramir frowned and scooted closer to his brother, looking down at the painting. He had drawn a Gondorian soldier riding on a white steed in the fields that were right outside. He even took the time to include the city of Minas Tirith. Even though it was good, there were still a few things that needed work.
With a small smile, Faramir took his small paintbrush and dipped it in the black paint. Boromir watched curiously as the young boy made a few quick strokes with the brush and the painting seemed to come to life. He put in a little more detail to the horse's features as well as the city's own features. When he finally placed the brush back in the small cup of water, Boromir grinned and embraced his brother tightly.
"It looks beautiful!" He exclaimed, laughing, "You have mama's talents." Faramir grinned and returned the embrace, then scooted back over to his own painting.
After a few more moments, the older boy leapt up with his pictures and dashed to his parents. Denethor looked up and smiled brightly when he saw his eldest coming towards him. Finduilas smiled and gave him a peck on a cheek before ushering him to go to Boromir. The boy giggled when his father picked him up in his arms and spun him around in the air.
"What have you got there?" He asked, smiling, as he noticed the paper that Boromir was waving around.
"I painted you a picture!" He exclaimed, "Faramir helped!" The mentioned boy's face lit up and he looked to his father expectantly but Denethor continued as if he never heard the name of his youngest.
"Let me see it, then!" The Steward said as he took the painting from his giggling son. Faramir frowned and looked down to his drawing once more, unaware of his mother's worried eyes on him, "This is incredible, Boromir! Not only is my first born intelligent and strong, he is creative! How did you achieve such a thing?"
"Do you like it?" Boromir asked excitedly and Denethor planted a kiss on his forehead.
"I love it, my son."
Faramir smiled and picked up his picture, then stood. Finduilas smiled proudly at him as he dashed to his father, waving his picture just as his brother had done.
"Papa, I drew something, too." He said but he furrowed his brow. The lord didn't seem to hear him. He was too busy praising the other boy, "Papa, do you want to see my drawing?" He asked a little louder but still received no response, "Papa?"
Finduilas was about to stand up and stop the explosion she could sense was about to happen but it was already too late.
"Papa!" Faramir yelled at the top of his lungs. His voice rang out and echoed off the marble walls. The lady felt her stomach twist up in knots when her son's face turned into an expression of fear. Boromir had gone quiet and had his small hands clenched over his ears, trying to block out the echoing. Denethor had turned his gaze onto the young boy but it wasn't the type of attention Faramir was looking for. The boy bit his lip in nervousness.
"Well, Faramir." Denethor began with an icy voice, "Would you care to explain yourself?"
"I-I just wanted you to see my painting." He replied shakily, taking a step away from his father.
"That does not give you the right to shout in my halls." The Steward said through gritted teeth, "Go to your chambers."
"Now, Faramir!" He shouted and the young boy immediately let the drawing slip from his fingers and he dashed to his chambers.
With an exasperated sigh, Denethor turned back to Boromir whose smile had faded. The joy of being praised was no longer pleasing to him. He felt horrible for not sticking up for his beloved brother but he did not want to incur the wrath of his father upon himself. He was vaguely aware of the continuing compliments.
Finduilas strode quietly over to the abandoned painting and gently bent down to pick it up in her nimble fingers. Her blue eyes studied the intricate drawing and felt a lone tear slip down her cheek.
The painting showed Denethor and herself with Faramir in between them, their hands clasped together. Boromir was behind them all, sitting upon the pony that had been given to him on his birthday by his father. Wide grins were plastered upon their faces in complete bliss.
She straightened herself once more and quickly hurried after her youngest son with the picture in hand, ignoring the calling of her husband. Faramir had moved very quickly for she did not pass him along the way and this worried her. She could not grasp why Denethor neglected him so much and it pained her to see him hurt the boy as he did. He did not deserve it. Finduilas tapped quietly on Faramir's door but did not receive and answer. With a sigh, she opened the door and poked her head in.
Faramir was perched upon the edge of his bed with his arms wrapped around his feather pillow. He did not look up when he heard his mother enter and close the door behind her. He just buried his face further into the pillow and willed his tears to stop. He felt the bed shift beside him as the lady sat down and pulled him into her lap.
"Hush, my son, do not cry. All will be fine." She cooed softly, stroking his golden brown hair comfortingly. She heard muffled words escape his lips but she could not understand him, "What is it, Faramir?"
"Why does papa yell at me?" He asked softly, biting his lips to keep his tears from falling, "Did I do something wrong? Am I not strong enough?"
"No, that is not it at all, my little one." Finduilas replied, pulling his head to rest against her bosom, "Your father loves you very much. He just does not know how to show it."
"He can show it to Boromir well enough." The boy muttered sadly, sniffling. The lady felt her heart tear in two at the truth in his words. She gently kissed the top of his head as she rocked him back and forth. Many times had she talked to Denethor but their arguing never seemed to get them anywhere.
"That was a very nice picture you drew, Faramir." She said quietly against his hair.
"Really? You liked it?" He asked, looking up at her slightly and she smiled.
"Of course, I did. It was very beautiful." She replied. This earned her a watery grin from the boy and she chuckled, "Would you like to hang it up in my room?"
"Could I?" He asked excitedly, his eyes lighting up. The lady laughed and nodded.
"Where ever you would like it." She said, handing the painting to him. Faramir immediately leapt out of his mother's lap and dashed out of the room. Finduilas smiled when she heard his giggling and bouncy footsteps.
"Come on, mama!" He called and she hurried after him, laughing the entire way.
Wee, little Boromir and Faramir! Hehe! I hope you liked this 'cause I certainly liked writing it! Thanks for reading and I would LOVE it if you reviewed! Thank you!
Until Next Time,