Faramir Fiction Archive

Elves, Orcs and the Road to Recovery

Written by KC

06 November 2004 | 58662 words

Part 6

After farewells were completed the elves and human mounted their horses and made their way down through the levels of the city and out through the city gates. Just beyond the gates they collected about twenty horses loaded with missives and supplies bound for Osgiliath. King Thranduil had agreed to take the supplies to Osgiliath before crossing the Anduin and turning northwards to Northern Ithilien. Laden down as they were with supplies, it took the travellers almost until nightfall to reach Osgiliath.

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Several Ithilien rangers stationed at Osgiliath spied their former captain as Faramir rode into the temporary tent city set aside for soldiers protecting the human and elven workers tasked with rebuilding the city and came running towards their captain shouting greetings. The young Steward dismounted and greeted each man by name, deeply touched by their enthusiastic welcome. Encouraged by Thranduil, Faramir shared the evening meal with his rangers in their camp as the elves made their way to tents near the river set aside for their use. Wine flowed and stories were exchanged as the rangers remembered fallen comrades of which there were many…far too many Faramir thought as his memory wandered back to the hopeless battle to retake Osgiliath just before he was struck down by a Southron dart. The young Steward could not bring himself to eat the bowl of food he was given for he felt responsible for the deaths of the men who rode with him on that doomed campaign, making his stomach queasy. Instead he simply moved the food around until finally putting the bowl aside. In an attempt to lessen the pain of remembrance, Faramir drank more wine than he had intended. Later that evening an inebriated and sombre young human made his way to where the elves had camped.

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Thranduil, Maglor, Finrod, Legolas and the twins were gathered around a fire that had been set alight in a small clearing near the tents in which they would spend the night. From their seated positions, Thranduil and Legolas' keen elven sight detected the approach and condition of Faramir. Elven father and son shared a look of concern as both could see the young Steward's pain clearly written upon the young human's face. Springing to his feet with elven grace the Mirkwood King made his way to his human son quickly. Faramir stopped, seeing his father's approach and swayed slightly with his arms wrapped around himself protectively. It almost broke Thranduil's heart to see his son's defensive and dejected posture. Moving slowly, the elven King wrapped his arms around his son gently and pulled the young human into a much-needed hug.

Faramir's breath hitched but tears did not come; too great and too deep were the wounds to his gentle and battered heart. After several long moments Thranduil released his son and assisted him back to the camp and into the tent that they would be sharing. Maglor was already there having prepared the camp-bed for his young charge. Both elves stripped the young human down to his leggings and under tunic, removing his boots and placing them at the end of the bed and assisted the young man to lie down, covering him with blankets. Faramir was asleep within moments.

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Thranduil was brought back from his reverie abruptly by a familiar elven whistling call. Looking over to where his human son was sleeping the elven King was alarmed to find that Faramir was not abed. Moving quickly the elf vacated the tent and saw that the Elrondion twins were also looking in the direction from whence the elven call had come. In the distance, down by the river, Thranduil could see Maglor and Legolas standing near Faramir who was kneeling by the waters edge. Instructing the twins to stay put, Thranduil made his way quickly to where his human son was kneeling.

"He still sleeps," Maglor informed the King quietly as Thranduil approached. The elven King noted Maglor and Legolas' expressions of concern and distress as they looked down upon the young Steward. Faramir was scrubbing furiously at his forearms and hands muttering to himself.

"What is the matter young Lord?" Thranduil asked quietly as he knelt down beside his son.

"I cannot get the stain out," Faramir replied in a harsh whisper as he looked down at his hands in horror and misery.

"What stain, my Lord?" Thranduil asked softly.

"Blood…the blood of so many. It will not come out," Faramir sobbed out quietly as he put his hands back into the water and continued the harsh scrubbing.

The elven King deduced that his son was lost in the memory of the insane attempt to regain Osgiliath on orders from Denethor.

"They were soldiers and you were following the orders of Lord Denethor, my Lord," Thranduil reasoned, tears welling in his eyes at the pain and despair he could feel coming from his son and at the blood that was beginning to flow from his son's forearms and hands caused by the harsh scrubbing.

"So many dead… so many… I should have been stronger… I should have died with them as Denethor wanted… the orcs hacked them to pieces… the blood… the stench… so foul… the sounds of battle… of dying… Mablung… Damrod… Anborn… all dead… it should have been me… why did I live?" Faramir lamented, rocking back and forth as he continued scrubbing at his hands.

"It was not your time, young Lord," the elven King argued softly so as not to cause harm by waking his son from his walking dream.

"They came in boats…" Faramir said as he stopped scrubbing and looked into the distance across the river, seeing again the wave upon wave of orcs, Southrons and Harads that poured across from the other side. "We fought… but still they came. I was tired… so tired… allowed no rest… I tried… but still they came…why did I live? It will not come out!" Faramir wailed as he looked down at his hands and began scrubbing again.

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"The King of Gondor is in need of you. You cannot abandon your King. Estel needs his Steward," Thranduil said his voice hoarse with emotion as he looked from his human son to his elven son who had tears streaming down his face as he watched his brother's anguish and could do naught but stand mute.

The young Steward of Gondor broke into harsh sobbing as he continued to look at his bloodied hands in despair. Thranduil put an arm around his son's shoulders as the young man continued to sob. Turning slightly, Faramir threw his arms around the elven King's neck and sobbed.

"Ada," Faramir called to his father as he awoke and then fainted.

Thranduil rose to his feet with his human son cradled gently in his arms and walked back to the camp in silence with Legolas and Maglor. The elven King and Seneschal stripped the young human quickly and efficiently. The Elrondion twins arrived with hot water, cloths and bandages. Legolas stood back out of the way still visibly distressed.

"Hannon le," Thranduil thanked the twins as he took a cloth from Elladan, dipped it into the hot water and bathed his son. Elrohir walked over to Legolas and placed a comforting arm around his friend's shoulders. Maglor attended to the bloodied forearms and hands cleaning, salving and bandaging the limbs. After dressing Faramir in fresh leggings and under tunic, the elven King and Seneschal covered the young man with several blankets. The young Steward did not stir once throughout, either due to excessive emotion or excessive wine, Thranduil could not tell which.

After Faramir was made comfortable, Thranduil sat on the groundsheet beside the head of the bed in which his son lay so that he could reach out and soothe him as necessary. Legolas moved to sit further down near his brother's feet. Both sat in silence as Maglor and the Elrondion twins left to allow the King and Prince privacy.

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"Ai, my elfling!" Thranduil exclaimed quietly as he looked at Legolas. "So little shows on the surface with this one."

"Mithrandir once told me that Faramir had learned to hide in plain sight because of the way he had been treated by Denethor," Legolas said as he adjusted the blankets covering the young Steward, tucking them more securely around his brother. "I now realise exactly what he meant. Oh ada! He is in so much pain. What are we to do? How are we to help him?"

"Be there for him, my elfling," Thranduil counselled. "I begin to better understand why he has no love for himself and why he has a keen intelligence except with matters pertaining to self-preservation," the elven King added as he stroked Faramir's hair, as much to sooth his own shattered calm as that of his sleeping son.

"He will continue to put himself at risk," Legolas stated.

"Yes my elfling, I am afraid he will. Estel is also aware of this, which is why he is so adamant that his Steward will face him in addition to any punishments he has already received for the any offence related to putting himself in the way of harm unnecessarily. Estel does not want to lose this one and neither do I," Thranduil whispered with passion.

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Thranduil and Legolas continued to keep vigil as Faramir slept until well into the next morning. The young Steward woke feeling groggy and with a pounding head. He could feel the presence of his ada and brother. Faramir remembered drinking with the Ithilien rangers the evening before but could not remember much else except for a dream…

"I had the most awful dream…" Faramir groaned but then stopped abruptly as he saw the bandages, which extended from hand to elbow. "It was no dream…" Faramir moaned as colour drained from his already pale face and tears welled in his eyes.

"Shhhh… ion-nin," Thranduil soothed as he stroked his son's hair and looked into his tear-filled eyes. "You had a battle memory. It happens, ion-nin."

"Oh ada! I am sorry to be such a burden… so weak and so flawed," Faramir sobbed.

"You are no burden, ion-nin and you are neither weak nor flawed! And if you ever say that again, distressed or not, I will turn you over my knee and blister your behind. Do your hear me, tithen-pen?" Thranduil growled quietly.

Faramir nodded, sobbing anew. The elven King sat on the edge of the camp bed, gathered his human son into his arms, and rocked the young man as he sobbed out his pain in earnest. Faramir lay in the arms of his father for a long time gaining comfort from the contact. He would never grow tired of his elven father's hugs he thought, so like Boromir's.

Some time later Maglor entered with the morning meal. Faramir groaned.

"Is there anyway I can escape eating this morning?" Faramir asked in a whisper meant only for his father. The young Steward was feeling decidedly delicate.

"No!" came the immediate response from both Thranduil and Maglor whose keen elven hearing caught his young charge's whispered request. Legolas, who had been sitting on the floor near his brother's feet during the entire exchange between his father and brother, chuckled. Faramir glared at his brother and then settled back into the arms of his father and sighed in resignation.

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