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Exile (NC-17) 
Written by Alcardilmë19 February 2012 | 8769 words | Work in Progress
Chapter Eight – Code of Honor
“You cannot go alone.”
“Already you have risked your post for me, Beregond. I can ask no more. Father will have you demoted to cleaning the sewers.”
“There are rats in the sewers. I need some new friends.”
Laughing, Faramir clasped his friend’s shoulder. “You cannot.” His voice turned serious. “I will not allow it. Besides, Mablung and Damrod are halfway to the North Gate. I must leave now, else they continue on without me. Beregond, stay here and listen. If you hear aught of Boromir, send word. I rely upon you.”
“It will be done, though you sorely try our friendship. But you are right, as always. I will keep my ears open. You may trust me.”
“I know. Now, I must ride.” He mounted. The Great Gate opened and his horse surged forward. He kept a hard pace for an hour.
“You will kill your horse at that rate, Faramir.” Damrod’s mount drew up on his right. Mablung appeared on his left.
“So to Rohan?” Damrod asked.
“Not at first. I would scour the quarry area first. Then the Drúadan Forest. After that, perhaps Rohan. I cannot believe Théodred would harbor Boromir and not let me know.”
“Unless Boromir asked him not to.”
“Théodred knows… I think he would send a rider.”
Mablung scratched his chin. “Théodred is close to Boromir.”
Faramir’s cheeks flamed. “They are dear friends.”
“Faramir. Théodred is besotted by Boromir.”
Refusing to answer, he pulled his cloak tight about him and rode on, reaching the quarry road before dusk.
The road lay desolate and drear. After an hour’s search, Faramir called out, “He did not come this way. There are no signs.” He lowered his head, fighting tears. “We shall camp here and head west in the morning.”
“Faramir,” Damrod threw another log on the fire, “do you know why Boromir left as he did?”
“Yes.”
Damrod lowered himself next to his lieutenant. “Does it involve his honor?”
“I do not know whose honor it involves, but I am sure it is an issue of honor.”
Mablung snorted.
“Your father raised him to value honor above all else, Faramir.” Damrod continued. “If it is unseemly, or unwise, it is nonetheless ingrained into his very being.” Damrod breathed a heavy sigh. “You cannot fault your brother for this flaw.”
“It is not a flaw,” Faramir stood and walked from the fire. He returned but a moment later. “It is something to be envied. This devotion to honor. It makes him strong. His men rely upon his honor. It gives them confidence and faith. He can ask anything of them, and they, knowing he would ask naught more than he would give, obey him. Adore him.”
“As do you. And it is as you say. But, honor needs be balanced by common sense. If honor blinds one to living only for honor, then one is doomed.”
“Then we are all doomed, Damrod. For honor and duty are fundamental in this age of evil.”
“Faramir. You fight because you love Gondor and you love your men. You would give your life for us. We know it. And we give ours for you. For you.”
“Then you do me wrong, Damrod. It is this code of honor that gives me the courage to fight for our beloved land, to live rightly, to face death. Boromir’s honor is pure.” He turned in hopes they did not see the blush he felt creeping up his face. “Let us to sleep. I wish to wake before sunrise and be on our way.”
Damrod put the fire to bed. Mablung cobbled the horses.
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Very interesting beginning! Please, continue!
— Anastassiya Monday 12 July 2010, 6:13 #