Repentance

Sitting in the King's Hall of the White City brought back so many memories. Memories of lilies and lavender that filled the room with such aroma that it intoxicated and stifled even the most cultivated minds. Memories of merriment and poppycock. Memories of times when brothers could be brothers and fathers would not play in the childish game of favoring. Memories that were usually nothing short of being idle in Boromir's mind. Where had those days gone? The days where Boromir could meet and greet the world with an open heart and an open mind. Days where everything was right, and anything was possible? What had happened to that Boromir? That Boromir was dead.

Boromir stood on the balcony and overlooked the kingdom. The days grew darker and evil was present at all times; but, good still did preside. Boromir watched a boy tumble about in heart of the gardens and laughed to himself. A mother and her child played a game of tag in the courtyard. And before they were booted out by bystanding guards, Boromir noted their facial expressions. Innocence. Innocence was one of the purest of things, but now was beginning to be absent among men. Boromir firmly grasped the banister. A quality that he himself had once had, but not anymore.

Boromir placed his loosely tied hair behind his ears and walked back into the King's Hall. His weary eyes looked down at his scarred hands. Then, Faramir entered the room and sighed at the sight of his brother.

"Oh, Boromir, not again," Faramir said.

He stood in front of Boromir and watched as he raised his hands slowly and steadily.

"How many?" Boromir asked. "How many, Faramir?"

"How many what?" Faramir inquired.

"How many have been slain by these two hands?" Boromir answered. "How many sons and fathers and friends and brothers have died on my account?"

"Boromir, I know what's in your heart, for it is in mine as well," Faramir paused and added. "But, you are going to kill yourself with this."

Boromir stared forward with a blank face. His dark curls surrounded his rugged face. "We're all going to die someday."

"But, it will not be here and now. It will be a day far into the future when your children and my children are grown and we are old men," Faramir said.

Boromir looked at his brother and smiled. "Those are the days I will look forward to."

He took Boromir's shield that had been saddled to his back and strapped it onto Boromir. His flowing locks flopped forward into his eyes and Boromir gently pushed them aside. Faramir released a slight grin and led Boromir outside to where his horse awaited him. Boromir mounted the steed and gazed out at what lied before him.

"Do you know what I wish, my brother?" he asked Faramir. "I wish just once more I could see blue skies. Just once more I could see disarmed courtyards. Just once more I could feel peace."

Faramir patted his brother on the leg. "You will, Boromir."

Boromir peered down at his younger brother and bent down to embrace him.

"Perhaps the Boromir I used to be isn't dead, but only sleeps," Boromir uttered. "Perhaps it only awaits for the chance to repent for all things past. I will follow this head on with pride."

"Yes, better days will be ahead," Faramir answered. "Until we meet again, brother; we will watch for your return from the White Tower."

"Thank you, you have only ever been my brother and true friend," Boromir replied and rode off into the horizen.

The End