Chapter One: A BIRTHDAY SURPRISE

Thirteenth Birthday has won second prize in the Races:Men:Gondor category in the 2007 Middle Earth Fan Fiction Awards (MEFAs). Thanks to everyone who reviewed the story.

This tale was originally written in answer to the alphabet challenge at the HA yahoo group. The subject, Fearful Faramir, inspired me to crawl out of my shell and return to writing fanfic. So come join the Sons of the Steward in the fullness of their youth.

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THIRTEENTH BIRTHDAY

The boy sat at a stone table in their father's garden, a dusty book spread open before him. However, his head was turned away from the text. His body faced the broad view of the White City, spread out beyond the manor walls in all its beauty and despair. The boy was either too distracted, or, more likely too mired in silly children's dreams, to hear his brother creep into the garden behind his back.

How had Faramir gotten so big in such a short time? thought Boromir, son of Denethor, as he watched his kid brother from behind the flimsy camouflage of a rose bush. Six months had passed since Boromir left their comfortable home in the Citadel to begin military training. Six months he had slept on the ground, trained in armor, and sneezed in the grassy air of Lossarnarch. But now, hah! now he was going to have some fun. Sometimes it was good to be Denethor's son. Sometimes not.

Boromir crept out from behind the bushes and squeezed his brother's shoulders on either side of the neck. He was well pleased when Faramir easily slipped out of the strong grip and twisted away. When Faramir turned to face Boromir, the boy's body was already in fighting position, long hands tightened into fists. After a shocked pause, Faramir yelled out in delight and leaped up to hug his brother. "What are you doing here? I thought you were off on patrol in some place no one ever heard of You didn't sneak off from your company did you?" the boy's glittering eyes narrowed.

"Of course not," Boromir said. "They knew full well that I was going. Being the Steward's heir has its privileges, as you will learn, little brother." (Soldiers always got a two week leave after six months of service, but Boromir didn't think it necessary to inform his brother of military policies just yet.)

Faramir sprawled into the bench beside the table, his long legs spread out, "I'm so glad to see you, especially because its my ..."

"Thirteenth birthday," Boromir completed the sentence. "A special day. Your first day as a man."

"As a man?" the boy's blue eyes grew very wide. "Father didn't tell me today was THAT special."

I am going to have a difficult time hiding my motives from those eyes of his, Boromir reminded himself of Faramir's peculiar abilities. He
would have to avoid thinking about any matters except what was going on in the present. Otherwise, Faramir might guess what he was up to.

"So what are you supposedly studying right now?" Boromir asked.

"Mathematics, supposedly," Faramir groaned. "I'm waiting for Meneldil. He's late as usual."

Excellent, Boromir thought. "And what else is on your schedule for today?"

"Archery, when Meneldil finally lets me go. And Government. Then I go to dinner where Father will inevitably grill me about what I learned."

"Just like he used to grill me," Boromir groaned. "Well, today you will have none of that. You're coming with me."

"Coming? Where?" Faramir gasped.

"Anywhere I decide to take you," Boromir said. "It's your 13th birthday. That's a good enough reason to skip out on your lessons."

Faramir's reaction was somewhat less enthusiastic than Boromir expected. Given the opportunity to skip out on his lessons, Boromir
would have jumped for joy and been out on the streets in a second. Instead, his brother's lips tightened and the kid drew his outsized
limbs into his body.

"As the heir to all of Gondor I order you to skip out of your lessons and come with me," Boromir tried being officious.

"But Meneldil will be here at some point," Faramir protested.

"At some point, maybe, but he's not here now," Boromir bellowed. Of course he wasn't there. Boromir had seen to it that the tutor would not return until tomorrow.

"I'd hate to miss archery..."

"Archery? You don't need archery training. You're ten times better than the instructor. You can't tell me that you couldn't miss
Government for one day. I hated Government."

"Well, one of us has to study Government," Faramir retorted. "That's what Father says. He'll cane me if I skip out this afternoon."

"When's the last time he caned you?" Boromir defied him.

"Why, I don't remember."

"Of course not. As I recall, I was the one who always saw the butt of his cane. Something about how I was older and therefore I should know better. So stop worrying and come with me. I don't understand why you are afraid of Father."

Faramir paused. It would not do to tell Boro of the odd events he'd witnessed the past several months. About those evenings when he'd slipped into the White Tower to read the stories and myths that Denethor so disdained. He'd seen the flashing lights in the
highest room of the Tower. He'd heard the sound of their father's voice booming threats and crying in agony. Faramir had a good
imagination and sometimes saw things that were happening far away. But this, this weirdness in the Tower. He did not dream THAT.

"I do not fear Father," Faramir said softly. "I fear for him."