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Old April 18th, 2011, 10:44 AM
Guin Sparrow Guin Sparrow is offline
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Love Endures (PG-13)

Title:Love Endures
Author: Guin Sparrow
Disclaimer: I do not own anything except for original characters. This is purely made for entertainment purposes.
Category: Set during and after the movies and books of Lord of the Rings.
Type: romance/adventure/drama
Rating: Young Adult
Characters: Pharazphel(OFC) Boromir, Faramir, Pharazpher(OFC), Urithor(OMC), Denethor, Finduilas, Aragorn, Legolas, Gimli, Frodo, Gandalf, Merry, Pippin, Sam, Eowyn
Warnings: violence, some torture.
Brief Summary: Pharazphel is a young woman of Rohan who meets Boromir of Gondor. Although they come from different worlds, they have more in common and their relationship is tested during Sauron's reign.


Chapter 1: The Golden Daughter

Love has been made to endure many things. Time and fate is always a great test to love. The love between two peoples has endured many things from time to peril.

It began in the days after the finding of the One Ring by Isildur, the High King of Gondor. Thousands of years since the slaying of the High King, there had been whispers of a new fear growing in the world. In those times, Men were left divided and leaderless. In the land of Gondor, the line of Kings was broken leaving the stewardship of lesser men to govern the people until the crowning of Isildur's heir.

In the kingdom of Rohan, there was a growing darkness that none could understand. The whispers of an unknown evil and of "Isildur's Bane" had reached the ears of the people of Rohan and Gondor.

During this time, there was at least one glimmer of hope in the continuing of the race of Men. A young and strong-willed woman of Rohan left her home. Her name was Pharazpher, daughter of Gimilphel. She had found love with Urithor of Gondor, a valiant soldier. Though they were from two different worlds, both of them had a deep bond between them. Urithor loved Pharazpher for her sturdy spirit and her belief in hope which had long abandoned Gondor. Pharazpher had loved Urithor for his strength and wisdom as well as his kindness. In the Spring of the year 2976 of the Third Age, Pharazpher and Urithor were wed and dwelt in Gondor. In the months that followed, their hope was kindled.

In the winter of 2976, Pharazpher and Urithor were about to welcome a child. Just as hope came to the loving couple, tragedy seemed to follow hand-in-hand.

Pharazpher was due to give birth to her child and her husband was not by her side. The pain of the child's coming was nearly unbearable, but a welcome pain for Pharazpher. Without her husband, Pharazpher did not know if she could endure.

"You have to push soon, lady," the midwife said urgently.

"Please, where is my husband?" Pharazpher begged, her voice filled with pain. "My husband should be with me and our child."

"Begging your pardon, ma'am, but that matters not," the midwife said sternly. "What matters now is ensuring the birth of a healthy child as well as your own health."

"Please, I must wait a moment more. Just one moment more!" Pharazpher pleaded.

"I am sorry, miss, but you must push now, or there's no hope in the health of your child," the midwife told her.

Unwilling to harm her child, Pharazpher began to push. The pain was greater than any torture of the Dark Days, but yet she was willing to endure it.

"Very good, miss. Try again," the midwife said confidently.

Pharazpher continued to push and cry out to combat the pain, and the midwife praised her efforts. No matter how much the midwife cheered her on, it did little to neither comfort Pharazpher nor ease her pain. Pharazpher's worries about her husband continued to grow with every push.

Urithor, where are you? she thought anxiously.

As her labor continued, Pharazpher cried out her husband's name. "Urithor!"

Her cries were in vain as her husband never appeared at her side. By night on that day, Pharazpher finally heard the loud cries of her child.

"It is a girl, miss," the midwife said proudly.

The midwife swaddled the baby girl in a cloth and placed her in the arms of Pharazpher. Pharazpher gazed upon her daughter with great love and joy. Her heart was lightened and she felt a new strength grow in her.

"She is beautiful," she sighed.

"Indeed, she is a fair maiden," the midwife agreed. "She is quite as strong as you are."

The girl gripped Pharazpher's finger tightly and her mother laughed. "Yes, she has the strength of me and her father already."

"What will you name her?" the midwife asked.

Pharazpher gazed at the child for a long moment. She looked as if she could find a name from her baby's eyes.

After a long moment, she smiled. "I will name her Pharazphel, daughter of Pharazpher and Urithor."

The midwife beamed. "It is a pretty name. What does it mean?"

"It is Adunaic for golden daughter. My daughter is precious to me, so she will be my golden daughter," Pharazpher explained as she grinned at her dozing baby.

Just then, there was a loud knock on the door. Pharazpher's heart leapt with hope.

"That must be my husband here to see his new daughter!" she said happily.

The midwife raced to the door and opened it. To her dismay as well as Pharazpher's, it was not Urithor, but only a messenger. The messenger did not speak, and only gave the midwife a piece of paper. The midwife read the paper to herself and her face fell.

"What is it? Where is Urithor?" Pharazpher asked, her fear rising.

The midwife could say nothing.

"Tell me! Where is my husband?" Pharazpher cried, causing her child to cry.

"You have endured a great deal tonight. You need rest," the midwife said dismissively.

"As long as I do not know where my husband is, I will not have rest. Tell me where Urithor is," Pharazpher demanded, quieting her daughter.

The midwife did not speak, but handed Pharazpher the parchment. Pharazpher snatched it and read it to herself. As soon as she did so, her eyes seemed to turn to glass and coldness grew over her. The only sound that could be heard was the paper fluttering to the floor.

"This day has been cursed," Pharazpher said. "My husband is dead."

Pharazpher gazed upon her daughter with great sadness, but she could not bear to let tears fall in the presence of her child. She tried to hold on to the joy of her daughter's birth in order to outweigh the bitterness of losing her husband and Pharazphel's father. All the hope that Pharazpher had left was in her golden daughter.

"I will always be with you, my daughter," she whispered. "I will give you my strength, my beloved Pharazphel."

Last edited by Guin Sparrow; August 9th, 2011 at 08:07 AM. Reason: correction
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  #2  
Old April 27th, 2011, 09:21 AM
Guin Sparrow Guin Sparrow is offline
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Join Date: Jun 2008
Posts: 1,066
Chapter 2: The Sons of the Steward

There had been no hope for Men since the passing of Isildur. The world of Men was left in doubt and growing darkness. The line of kings had been broken many years ago. In the land of Gondor, the darkness was the greatest.

The Dark Lord Sauron bordered Gondor to the east. For many years his realm lay quiet after his defeat at the hands of Isildur. Then, great, black clouds began to cover the skies of Mordor. It was at last that Mount Doom burst forth with a new life. There was also a beacon: a fiery eye watching the border. It was the Eye of Sauron.

The Men of Gondor began to despair. The Dark Lord had returned to cover the world in darkness again, as he did hundreds of years before. Adding to the despair was the empty throne of Gondor. There had not been a king since the days of old. Thus, the leadership of Gondor was left to the Stewards, caretakers for the throne.

In the days of old, stewards were once great examples of Men. The ruled the city with strength and wisdom. It wasn't until the return of Lord Sauron that the stewards began to despair. The once magnificent men gave into fear. Thus the rule of Gondor was given to lesser men.

Not only did the rulers of Gondor begin to despair, but all that grew and lived. The city became grey as the skies above it. The greatest loss was the White Tree of Gondor. In Minas Tirith, the White Tree was the tree of the King. During the days of the kings, the White Tree flowered gloriously. It wasn't until after the slaying of Isildur that the tree withered. Not long after, the White Tree died and bloomed no more.

Yet a small glimmer of hope remained among the people of Gondor. The return of Sauron had not completely diminished their spirits. They still had some hope that they would defeat the Dark Lord just as he had been defeated before. Not even the darkening skies could dampen the spirits of the people.

The hope of Gondor was also great in their hope for a king. The people of Gondor awaited the return of their king for many years. They longed for the day when Isildur's Heir would be crowned. They yearned to have sanity and compassion in the stewards again.

The people of Gondor had so much hope that they guarded the White Tree. The Tree's death did not matter to those who guarded it. What mattered to them was the belief that it would one day live again. That is the belief that urged the people on during those many years.

The Steward in this time was Denethor, son of Ecthelion. Denethor was a wizened figure of a man, but still lordly. He had hair of silver like that which decorated the White Tower. Denethor was a strong, hard man like the stone of his city. The darkness had not diminished his hope. He was still a proud man in those days.

In the year 2970, Denethor had not been named steward, but his father, Ecthelion had the title. It was then that Denethor met and fell in love with a woman named Finduilas. For six years after that, they courted.

It was not until then that Denethor asked his love what was in his heart. "Finduilas, you know I love you, do you not?"

"I knew that many years ago, my love," Finduilas said lovingly.

"You know that I am not a glorious king like the kings of old," Denethor said solemnly.

"I know, but I care not," Finduilas said, "You are as lordly as a great King of Men."

"I may not be a king, but I would certainly feel like one if you would take my hand in marriage," Denethor said tenderly.

Finduilas could say nothing. Denethor's tender words touched the very center of not only her heart, but her soul.

"Well, will you have me?" Denethor asked anxiously.

"Whether you are a great king or not, I will wed with Denethor son of Ecthelion," Finduilas said merrily.

Thus it was in the year 2976 of the Third Age, Denethor and Finduilas were wed. For many years, the couple remained in bliss despite the coming of Lord Sauron. Two years later, the couple was blessed again.

"Denethor, my love, it seems that we have been granted a miracle," Finduilas said merrily.

"What is this miracle you speak of?" Denethor asked.

"We have been blessed with a child," Finduilas said, her as glimmering as bright as the White Tower.

In 2978 of the Third Age, Finduilas gave birth to her first child with Denethor. The labor was long and arduous, lasting into the hours of the night. Finduilas never faltered and Denethor was by her side all through the night. Finally, a child's cry flooded the room.

The exhausted Finduilas held her new child in her arms.

Denethor beamed. "You have a greater strength than any soldier of Gondor, my love. You have done well."

"Denethor, we have a son," Finduilas sighed.

Denethor's proud smile widened. "He is a strong son of Gondor. He will make a great Steward one day, I can see."

"What will be his name?" Finduilas asked.

"We shall name him Boromir, son of Denethor," Denethor declared. "A strong name for a strong child."

Boromir was indeed a strong child. He grew in wisdom and strength. Denethor took great pride in his son.

"I foresee that he will be destined for greatness," Denethor said proudly.

Two years later, Denethor and Finduilas were given another son. His name was Faramir, son of Denethor.

Denethor loved both of his sons and had saw both of them becoming men of wisdom and strength.

Unfortunately, all good things do have an end. Finduilas had been greatly weary since the birth of Faramir. She began to feel her few years bearing down on her. She had contracted an illness that brought despair to Denethor as well as Boromir and Faramir, who were only children. To their great sadness, Finduilas died at so young an age.

Denethor's despair was unfathomable. No one, not even his sons, could bring him comfort. He had already lost his father and became Steward years before.

It was then that Denethor began to despair in the return of Lord Sauron. He had changed from a wise, strong man to a man living in fear and without reason. The weight of the Dark Lord's influence began to bear down on him.

Not only did Denethor suffer from himself, but his children suffered. They had seen their father's despair and it dampened their spirits as well. When Boromir and Faramir were in their teenage years, both were instructed as warriors. Boromir never ceased to please his father with his strength and skill. Faramir seemed to go unnoticed.

Denethor began to love his firstborn more than Faramir, it seemed. Whatever great deeds Faramir had done did not please Denethor. Boromir always gave his father pleasure no matter what he did. Denethor had also grown annoyed that Faramir learned from the wizard Gandalf the Grey.

While Boromir and Faramir hunted, both men succeeded in catching their prey. When they returned to their father, Denethor had nothing but praise for Boromir.

"My son, it seems you are the most skilled hunter in Gondor," Denethor boasted.

"Father, you exaggerate," Boromir said humbly. "The true victory belongs to Faramir. Without him, our prey would have escaped."

Denethor frowned. "And what would a wizard's pupil know in the ways of the hunt?"

"Have I displeased you, Father?" Faramir asked.

"How can I be pleased when my son learns from a wizard?" Denethor demanded.

"I do not mean to displease you, Father," Faramir said.

"You never intend to displease me, but you never intended to please me," Denethor countered.

Faramir did not say a word. Tears seemed to glisten in his eyes at his father's words.

"Father, please!" Boromir pleaded.

Denethor turned and left without saying another word.

"What have I done to displease him, brother?" Faramir asked solemnly.

"You have done nothing of the sort, little brother," Boromir comforted. "You are much stronger and wiser than I am."

"Then why doesn't Father see it?" Faramir asked dubiously.

"Father does see it, even if he is too proud to admit it," Boromir countered. "He loves us both. He will remember that one day."

Last edited by Guin Sparrow; May 2nd, 2011 at 07:52 PM.
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  #3  
Old July 3rd, 2011, 09:45 PM
Guin Sparrow Guin Sparrow is offline
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Join Date: Jun 2008
Posts: 1,066
Chapter 3: Family Love

Faramir trusted his brother, but he was not sure if Boromir's words were true. He so wanted to believe that their father would remember he loved them both, but he never believed that day would come.

"Do you really think Father will forgive me?" Faramir asked dubiously.

"Forgive you? For what?" Boromir asked.

"Whatever offences I have made against him," Faramir replied simply.

"Little brother, there is nothing to forgive," Boromir said.

"But there must be something I've done to make Father ill towards me," Faramir said, guilt in his voice.

"No, there is nothing you have done, little brother," Boromir reassured him. "You are a wise, valiant son of Gondor. You have nothing to apologize for."

"That has escaped Father's notice," Faramir said glumly.

"No, it has not," Boromir said.

"Yes, it has, or he would love me as much as he loves you," Faramir said.

"Father loves us both. He simply must remember that, but I assure you he will," Boromir comforted.

"I don't see why he has to remember that he loves us," Faramir said bitterly.

Boromir sighed. "I don't know either, little brother. I think Father does not mean to forget that he loves you and once he remembers that, he won't forget again."

"I pray he does," Faramir said.

Boromir patted his brother on the shoulder. "Come on, victorious hunter. Let's get moving before we're overwhelmed by hunger."

"I thought it was clear that you were the mighty hunter," Faramir said gloomily.

"I said that Father exaggerates," Boromir replied with a smile. "He was not there, and he did not see that you were the victorious one."

In the following years, Boromir and Faramir had grown into wise, strong examples of men in Gondor. Boromir proved to be quite the imposing general in Gondor. With the impending peril from the black land of Mordor, Boromir fought back the danger courageously. It was said that under his command, the army of Gondor made the evil in Mordor pause. Faramir was also a formidable captain, but he was a gentler spirit than his brother. He had the wisdom that aided the army of Gondor in times of great peril. Both brothers made an imposing force in Gondor with their skills and strength.

Unfortunately, Faramir's hope that Denethor would remember his love did not come to be in those years. In the next short years, Faramir continued to escape his father's notice. Boromir was the only true hero to Denethor, and Faramir was no more than a gentle student of Gandalf the Grey.

It was true that Boromir was always the warrior. He was a tall, formidable figure of a man. He and Denethor were also very much alike. Both were stubborn men who had desperately sought to protect their country. Faramir was an excellent captain, but only at great need. He was a gentler than Boromir as well as wiser at times. Faramir also had more love of music and lore than Boromir. Thus, Denethor thought his youngest son less worthy, and at times, a weak man.

One day, the eastern skies became as black as the abyss. Neither the stars nor the moon could not be seen. The only light in the sky seemed to come from the fiery explosions of Mount Doom. There was also another light. This light came from an ever watchful eye, covered in flame. The Eye of Sauron turned its gaze to the West. Sauron had returned, and he sought to first exterminate the world of Men.

Boromir and Faramir had seen that Sauron targeted Gondor. They knew that war would soon follow. Both of them were quick to share this news with Denethor.

"Father, a great darkness lies to the East," Boromir said urgently. "The skies are blackening and there is an eye fixed upon us."

Denethor could say nothing.

"Father, Sauron the Deceiver has returned," Faramir said. "His Eye is fixed upon Gondor. He seeks to eliminate us."

"Do not insult me further for thinking me a blind man," Denethor snarled. "I have seen Sauron's return. I know he seeks to destroy us."

"We must prepare the defenses against the armies of Mordor," Faramir said.

Denethor laughed bitterly. "Is this how the wizard's pupil seeks to show his quality? What would a wizard's pupil know of war?"

"Father, Faramir has Gondor's need at heart as much as you and I," Boromir said firmly.

"If your brother had Gondor's need at heart, he would be a warrior as you are, not a student to a wizard," Denethor argued.

"Father, I would gladly fight and give my life for Gondor," Faramir said in earnest.

"And you would believe that dying for Gondor would make you a hero?" Denethor asked dubiously.

"I do not seek to be a hero, just to do my duty," Faramir said softly.

"You seek for a chance to show your quality to me," Denethor told him. "If you were to give your life for Gondor, the manner of your death would decide your quality."

Faramir and Boromir were shaken. Both of them could not believe their father's carelessness for Faramir.

"Father, please," Boromir pleaded. "Faramir is only doing what a man of Gondor is charged to do."

"I trust the defense of this city only to you, not to your brother," Denethor said coldly.

"And why is that?" Boromir demanded.

"Because I know that you will not fail me," Denethor said, his voice like stone.

There was a silence again. Boromir was not pleased by his father's behavior. He knew Faramir was a great warrior, and he could not believe Denethor's cruelty.

Finally, Boromir spoke. "We will do what we can for Gondor."

Both brothers bowed to their father and quitted the throne room. Faramir did not speak a word. He was truly shaken by the sternness of his father's words. Faramir believed that nothing he ever did would please his father.

Boromir put a comforting arm on his brother's shoulder. "Do not dwell on Father's words. You are the most formidable man in Gondor."

"All I want is for Father to love me," Faramir said glumly. "Why doesn't he love me?"

"Father loves us both," Boromir said gently. "It may be years before he admits it, but he loves us."

"I certainly hope that Father remembers he loves me if I die," Faramir said gloomily.

"Do not be so gloomy, little brother," Boromir said brightly. "You will live through this peril. Father will certainly remember he loves you before the end."

"I only hope you are right, brother," Faramir said.
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