The dim sounding of the horn of Gondor sent foreboding and dreadful thoughts to Faramir’s consciousness, and both he and his father did not want to state the fear and anxiety they felt about Boromir.

His father closed himself off and Faramir felt himself do the same and resort to his private thoughts when he could desensitize himself from reality. How else could he move on and lead his men in this time of uncertainty, challenge, and stress?

He imagined better days of Gondor at peace, where he could relish in the books of Numenorian poetry and history he loved. And perhaps spend some time in the gardens where he loved to plant.  One day, his sword would not be used to kill, rather hung up as a memorial to show his sons and daughters they went through a darker time and now was time of peace to remember the fallen, to remember Gondor in its glory. He would tell them, “Remember Gondor in its might, and the King had returned to deliver our peace.”

But now, he had to face the enemy. Stop your daydreaming. He took a deep breath, and continued to lead, delegate and charge the Enemy.