Chapter 333: The Two Brothers
After leaving the Shire, Gandalf travelled with Levi back to Roadside Keep, where they found Aragorn resting between patrols.
The man seemed almost idle of late, at least by his standards, so…
"There are some things I need your help with."
Just like that, Aragorn was whisked away by Gandalf.
They left Roadside Keep together and headed east, following faint traces and old rumours.
As they searched, wandering rangers out on watch in the wilds gave them a name:
Gollum.
"I have met him before," Gandalf said, falling into thought.
"I never imagined that little creature I always overlooked would prove so important. I truly underestimated him. I should never have let him roam free…"
Some months later, Gandalf returned to Roadside Keep.
"You are saying the Ring Bilbo bore came from Gollum?" he asked.
"Exactly," Levi replied, settling Gandalf's doubts.
"I never heard Bilbo mention that. Until now, I always believed he found the Ring somewhere in the caves."
"In a sense," Levi said, "it is not entirely wrong to say he picked it up."
"Enough riddles between us," Gandalf sighed.
"So Gollum also knows that the ring that may be the One is in the Shire. That cannot spread. It would draw too many eyes."
"If that happens, the Shire might…"
"The Shire will not come to harm."
Levi spoke while glancing over his daily reports and sipping tea, perfectly calm.
"I gave my word. The rangers have watched that region for decades. If need be, legions can be sent there at a moment's notice."
"There will be no accidents. Even if all Nine Nazgûl ride out with tens of thousands of troops at their back, I will not let them take so much as a step past Roadside Keep."
"Let all evil meet its end here, and end with it."
"All right, all right. I do trust you," Gandalf said, nodding vigorously.
"I can see how strong these defences are. There are heavy garrisons to the east, south, and north. To pass them, the enemy would have to fly…"
"If they fly, I will personally bring them down," Levi said with a wave.
"Very well. Then I can truly be at ease."
Once he had heard all he needed at Roadside Keep, Gandalf did not waste a moment. He rose and rode back east to the great wild, where he found the captain of a ranger patrol.
"Tell me. Which way did Gollum go?"
"South," the captain replied. "He crossed the wild, wandered into the Brown Lands, then splashed through the Dead Marshes. After that, we lost him. It is beyond our watch. Perhaps you can ask the rangers of Gondor."
Gandalf's face grew grim at that.
Beyond the Dead Marshes lay Mordor.
Following that trail, he rode south without pause until he came to the wilderness of Ithilien.
There he met Boromir, who was holding Osgiliath.
"Hail to you, Boromir, son of Denethor. I seek tidings," Gandalf said, greeting the tall, handsome young man with warmth.
Boromir's reply was cool.
His father had told him not to speak with wizards.
Carrying that inherited bias, he answered in an even tone,
"I am sorry, Wizard. I have never seen this Gollum you speak of. If it happened at all, it was long ago."
"Myself and these valiant soldiers behind me have only recently come to the front. Perhaps you should go to Minas Tirith and ask those retired rangers and soldiers who served here in years past. They may know more."
He gave Gandalf the courtesy due a guest, said his piece, and then left him to return to his duties, with no further talk.
Gandalf shook his head.
Boromir was still young. Nothing in his heart stayed hidden for long.
Including that faint twist of awkwardness and distance.
Plain as day, he did not wish to grow close.
Even so, compared to the Steward himself, the son's manner was kindly. At least he kept the basic respect owed to an elder.
Leaving Osgiliath somewhat deflated, Gandalf rode on to Minas Tirith.
"You must be Gandalf, the wise Grey Wanderer?" a voice asked as soon as he passed into the White City.
To his surprise, a youth had hurried up to him at once.
"Faramir. My name is Faramir. It is an honour to meet you, Lord Mithrandir."
Faramir introduced himself with eager courtesy.
"You look as if you are on urgent business. Is there something I can do? Perhaps I can act in your stead?" he offered.
"Yes… I do have some things to see to," Gandalf admitted.
Looking at the boy whose face so closely resembled Boromir's yet was softer in every line, Gandalf could not help stroking his beard, his eyes full of approval.
Faramir, clearly, was not his brother.
He and Gandalf fell into talk at once, and never seemed to run out of things to say. Faramir had questions without number, and Gandalf's patience never failed. Whatever the boy asked, he answered; whatever he knew, he shared, doing his best to set this keen mind at ease.
In return, Faramir did much for him. He kindly housed Gandalf, then went himself to seek out veterans of the front and old rangers retired from the wilds, gathering every scrap of rumour and memory he could.
"Careful, gentle, merciful, and yet brave," Gandalf thought.
The longer he watched, the more he liked the lad.
His gaze was that of a teacher on the finest pupil in his class, full of care.
"To think Denethor could have a child with a nature like this. Remarkable. He must not be spoiled by his father," Gandalf told himself.
When at last he had learned all that Gondor knew of Gollum's wanderings, Gandalf lingered a while longer in Minas Tirith for Faramir's sake.
In that short span, Faramir learned much. He treasured every moment he had with Gandalf, striving with all his strength to grasp the wisdom offered.
Until Denethor heard of it.
The Steward, who had only just been congratulating himself on his elder son, turned and felt the sky fall in. His younger boy, in league with a wizard?
He could not let that Grey-cloaked meddler corrupt his child.
"You are to speak less with that old wizard. I do not wish to see him," Denethor said.
"Yes, Father," Faramir answered earnestly.
But some things could not be forbidden.
Seeing that his son still welcomed Gandalf, Denethor felt as though he had struck a pillow. All his force went nowhere.
What could he do?
Nothing.
He was most displeased.
Fortunately, Gandalf did not linger. Perhaps sensing that his presence was bringing trouble down on Faramir's head, he took his leave before long.