Faramir Fiction Archive

Faramir's Second Chance (PG-13)

Written by Morwen

17 January 2013 | 25743 words | Work in Progress

Author note: And I’m back again! I’ve written several more chapters for this story. This chapter might seem a little rusty since I was just starting the story up again, but it gets better, and if I seem to still have readers and comments, I will keep on updating. I hope you are all out there somewhere, and I hope you had a happy holiday season. (Can you believe it’s 2012 already?) Okay, without further ado…

Chapter Five

Time passed quickly in Elrond’s eyes. Having existed for so many years, five years of seasons and training and meandering in the lives of men and elves seemed to pass in the amount of time a few short months would take in the eyes of Men. There were many changes that took place during the five years and their seasons. Faramir grew into the age of seventeen, whose brother visited him during a few of the winter seasons. He became well practiced in swordplay, and even more of an expert with the bow. Elrond knew that Faramir’s fellow Men would hardly be able to distinguish Faramir’s shot from that of the elves; he had indeed grown very accurate. And with the personal tutoring of Elrond and Erestor, Faramir became extremely learned in the history of Middle Earth.

Through his studies, Elrond had trained Faramir to be an extremely critical thinker, very logical and strategic in the planning of imaginary battles. He had grown incredibly skilled at drawing maps, which was what filled most of the content of Faramir’s many leather journals. Maps filled the young man’s chamber walls as well; Elrond found it rather endearing that the youth would hang maps and papers on the walls and surround himself with other interesting information is in chambers, keeping books at his bedside The rest of the entries were filled with his experiences in Rivendell, along with the most interesting parts of books he had ever found in the libraries of Rivendell. He was both physically and mentally trained and skilled, much stronger than he would ever have been in Gondor. Erestor also assisted in Faramir’s training,

While Boromir had been physically very strong, Faramir possessed some of this strength but was also lithe and skilled, rather precise and light on his feet like the elves he had grown up with. There was a certain lope in his step that had smoothed him out the older he had gotten, as if a whisper of the elves’ grace had impressed upon him. But Elrond though this young man was perhaps a perfect example of a blend between Man and Elf, Elrond could still see the mortal side of him, the human side.

His education in the elvish language through both tutoring and practical experience made him quite skilled in the language, so much so that he was able to speak with his neighbors and elven friends in their native tongues. With Elrond, however, they mostly spoke in Faramir’s native language, the common tongue. Elrond frequently encouraged Faramir to keep in touch with his own heritage and to not completely absorb himself in the elvish ways of life, for he was truly one of the Men; his true lineage was something to be proud of. This encouragement was accompanied by visits in the winters from Boromir, who travelled to Rivendell to spend time with his brother and the elves.

“You should proud of yourself, little brother,” Elrond overheard Boromir saying one evening, after many had retired to bed. The two brothers had remained in the dining hall, drinking wine and enjoying one another’s company, not knowing that they were not alone. “You have come quite a long way since I last saw you, and I hope never to be your enemy in a battle in which you are wielding your bow.”

Elrond heard Faramir laugh, a great chuckle. It brought the elf great contentment to hear the youngest man laughing so wholeheartedly and sounding so content with his brother. The two brothers exchanged a few more jokes before the conversation grew quieter. The ears of Men would not have been able to hear the whispers, but Elrond could hear every hushed word – and had no intention of leaving them be.

“How is father?” Faramir asked. He kept his voice hushed, sounding hesitant. There were a few seconds of silence before Boromir’s response, “He is well enough.”

“Does he wish to see me return?”

“You know that I cannot truly answer that… he never tells me his true thoughts on the subject.”

“But what do you think? You know him better than most anyone else, you are one of his several chief advisors.”

“I think he would see you return, little brother, but I fear that his intentions would be foul.” Elrond heard Boromir sigh in what seemed like distress. “I feel you would be much better off here. Elrond has been more of a father figure to you than father ever can be… you know I think that.”

“I do know,” Faramir replied. “I just don’t know if it’s the right thing to do. I feel as though I should return to Gondor, to fight and defend our people. I have been taught here indeed, but I was to keep using our common tongue at times to keep myself in touch with my roots. I was not to forget that I am a Man, I belong to Men, and I belong to Gondor.”

“I do understand, little brother.” Boromir was trying his best to be comforting now, though it wasn’t his strongest suit. “I think you would be better off here.”

“Doing what?” Faramir asked. “I have been trained. I am not just good with the bow, I am good with the blade also. I can set aside my skills with the bow… if that is what father wishes to see.”

“That is not something I can decide for you, little brother,” Boromir replied. “I only know that father wished for both of us to become good swordsmen. He believes only swordsmen are useful in midst of battle.”

“He has not yet seen me with the bow,” Faramir retorted. “Can he ignore such skill and killing power with weapons other than the sword, if that weapon’s master is able to kill with ease using a different weapon?”

“Father seems able to ignore whatever he pleases,” Boromir replied. The answer came with such stunning honesty and bluntness that neither brother had a word to say for a few long moments, until Faramir broke the silence.

“I think it will be time soon for me to return to Gondor. At least for a time.” There was a pause. “I think it will do everyone a world of good for me to be reintroduced, even if I do not stay for long. At some point, I must return there. And believe it or not, brother, I miss Gondor. I miss her beauty, although my home here is very beautiful. I miss the libraries, even though there are many more manuscripts here. I miss so many things about Gondor, brother… and I think I miss them only because Gondor is my true home, and a city brimming with the power of Men. I cannot help but have a little pride.”

“Spoken like a true son of the Steward,” came the older brother’s reply. “I am glad you wish to return, although I fear it will not be an easy process for anyone. But I do not believe that now is the proper time.”

“Is now truly not a proper time, brother, or is it simply easier to push this situation back so as not to confront it?”

“That is a possibility, brother.” Boromir sighed. “Though I am the older one, you always have had more insight. But truly, I do think that your age is still a bit too young. You are old enough to do a worthy job, I am sure. But with a few more years of age and experience, I think you will be strong enough to face what lies ahead. Do not fear, little brother. There will be plenty of time for you to prove yourself to father. The time is probably not now, though.”

The next morning, just a little after dawn, Boromir set off once again for Gondor. Though the Steward seemed able to keep things stable, Boromir was one of his chief advisors, and so Boromir began making his journey back to Gondor after a very early morning meal.

“We wish you safe travels,” Elrond said, as he bid Boromir farewell. Elrond then lowered his voice; now that he and Boromir were alone for a moment, he could speak about the issues at hand. “I do know of last night’s conversation. Faramir is indeed still too young to be journeying back to Gondor just yet.”

“Indeed.” Boromir was slightly surprised that the elf had learned of the private conversation. “Several more years must pass, at least. I am still glad that he wishes to return, but he is far more safe here. I cannot spend all my time overseeing how our father treats him.”

“That is understandable.” The elf placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Do take care, Boromir. I speak for all elves here when I say that we are glad you come to visit with us, and spend the winter festival holidays here. We like to keep connections with Men, especially the brother of Faramir. We do care very much for him.”

“I am glad for that,” Boromir said. “For now, I must go on. Do take care, master Elrond.” With that, Boromir was off, and Elrond made his way back up the steps and through the hallways to the breakfast hall as the sun rose steadily over the trees and waterfalls.

When Elrond joined the rest of his assistants and counselors in one of the large dining halls for breakfast, Faramir was already seated at the table along with a few other elves. Although elves did not find sleep necessary, they adhered to evening hours of alone time, and morning and daytime hours were reserved for socializing and working on whatever business needed attending to. Being one of Elrond’s understudies as well as a useful young man, Faramir always arrived in the dining hall to sit and have breakfast. This was the normal routine for any of their mornings when there was not a holiday.

“How do you fare this morning, Faramir?” Elrond heard Glorfindel ask, as he approached the table. Faramir was already seated in his normal place, across the table from Glorfindel and Rúmil. He looked even further buried in his thoughts this morning. “I am well,” he finally replied, but in reality, he looked deeply buried in some dark thoughts. Faramir was always this way when his brother left; seeing family go away was always difficult for the young man, although he had gotten better at it as he aged. Elrond was well aware that Glorfindel knew of this sad and withdrawn behavior, and was simply trying to cheer the young one up. By the time Elrond could begin pondering how to bring some cheerful topics of conversation to the table, Arwen arrived and seated herself at the table, choosing to sit next to Faramir. She quietly began engaging him in conversation. “We should go out riding today,” she said. “The weather is perfectly fit for it, and I think it would do you well to see the sun.” Faramir nodded in reply, trying to shake himself out of his sullen attitude. “That would be lovely, lady Arwen,” Faramir replied, “but you do not need to fuss over me.” She smiled, replying, “I do not fuss much over you. But I do know that today is a fine day for riding. I believe Glorfindel is coming along, too.” Elrond smiled to see that Glorfindel would be joining them, knowing that the more company Faramir had today, the better off he would be. Caring for his peoples’ mental health was just as important as caring for their physical health. While Elrond was beginning to consider Faramir as more of a son, he tried to keep the distance by insisting that Faramir was more like one of his patients. He was caring for him long term and giving him a happy home, to set him out into the world as a free and willing Man, to do the work that would need to be done.

After the morning meal was finished, Faramir decided to move himself back toward the libraries. Although he had finally taken Arwen and Glorfindel up on going horseback riding throughout Rivendell in the early afternoon hours, he was quite content with the idea of spending some time alone with the manuscripts in the libraries. He wandered through the halls, being alone with his thoughts, until he was interrupted.

“Faramir.” The voice was so familiar to him now, that he stopped and turned around while Elrond was still approaching him. “Where are you going?”

“To the libraries, my lord.” Faramir wondered why Elrond was asking him this; he only traveled down this hallway when he was going off to read manuscripts. Surely this wise elf knew, as always, what he was up to. “Is there something you need from me?”

“You haven’t spoken to me with such formality in quite some time,” Elrond replied, looking Faramir in the eye. “I am simply Elrond to you; you know that.” Faramir looked up at him and replied, “Yes. I know that. I’m sorry. I’m just going to take some time to think, and I always go to the libraries when I think, and this is the only way to the libraries. So when you asked where I was going, I was confused. I am sorry.” Faramir’s tone of voice and behavior were both very calculated, and the elf noticed it straight away. Whatever this behavior was, it did not seem healthy.

The afternoon passed by as always. Arwen and Glorfindel managed to pull Faramir out of the library later in the afternoon to do a little bit of riding with them. Elrond watched them from afar, from the comfort of his study and his desk. Not more than an hour of riding had gone by, however, when all three returned to the stables and Faramir slinked back off to his shrine of books. Not more than quarter of an hour later, Elrond heard his daughter entering his study.

“Ada.” She walked casually about the room, admiring her father’s office furnishings and taking in some of the fresh air coming through the window, but she was deep in thought. She turned to her father after a moment. “I fear for Faramir. Of course, Boromir just left, but he is simply not acting the same. We know he experiences his blues; he is one of Men. But his behavior appears to be far worse this time.” Elrond, ever caring about his daughter, saw the worried look upon her face and began walking her towards some of the nearby garden courtyards lying outside one of his office doors and conversed with her.

“What do you fear about Faramir?”

“He is more withdrawn than normal. He went with Glorfindel and I to go out riding, which I am sure you saw, but he did not pay much attention or get much joy out of it. He was distracted. You know he loves riding horses, Ada.”

“Indeed, he does.” Elrond became a bit more concerned. “I was indeed hoping that some time spent with you, and Glorfindel, would help our young man to feel more upbeat after his brother parted ways with us today. That is odd.”

“That’s not all, Ada.” They were now in the courtyard, and she sat down on one of the benches to rest. “Glorfindel tried to discuss a strategy game with Faramir, trying to get him to play. That didn’t work either.”

“Perhaps Faramir was not interested at that moment in playing a particular game, although he does love strategy and logic,” Elrond mused. The boy was usually up for games, so he could not deny that his daughter had a point.

“Glorfindel also told Faramir about some new maps, Ada.” Elrond looked up at her, roused from his thoughts. “He was discussing some older maps, something Faramir had not seen before. Faramir seemed slightly interested by it, but then brushed it off, saying nothing more about it at all. And then he stopped into his chambers for a moment, while I was heading down the hallway to see you – after our ride – and he came back out of his chambers holding another one of those blank books. You know the ones he writes in so much, although the words he writes, I do not know.”

“He is young,” Elrond stated. “You know this. Though you are younger than I, you know that Faramir is a mere seventeen years old. He is still considered an infant in our eyes, really. His thoughts and dreams get poured out on those pages, along with maps. I do agree… it is strange that he was not interested in learning more about the maps Glorfindel was talking about.” He stood up. “Do not worry, dear daughter. I am sure Faramir will be feeling better about things soon, but I should tend to him. I am sure he is back in his favorite set of book stacks.” Elrond placed a finger under his daughter’s chin, and drew it up so he could better see her face. “Do not fear. Your concern for him is very motherly, though, and I get joy from seeing that side of you. You are a warrior of a daughter, and for that I am most proud. But this reminds me of a day when I might have elflings from you, to care for and dote on.”

“Someday, there will be children of my own – though I fear it will still be a while from now. You have lived so long though, Ada – I am sure you can wait slightly longer.” With that, the undomniel smiled, got to her feet, and swept off to attend to business elsewhere while Elrond made his way back down toward book stacks.

When he entered Faramir’s favorite library, the young man was sitting in the corner near the fireplace. There was a large stack of reading next to him, books and scrolls and papers all together, picked out individually to browse and read. Deeply engrossed in reading as always, it took a moment for him to look up. Once he saw Elrond, he jumped up from his chair, as if caught doing something improper. He backed away a few steps toward the corner of the room as Elrond moved toward him.

“Faramir?” Elrond asked, as he approached him. “What is wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, I just didn’t expect you.”

“Well, please. Sit back down.” Elrond took a sit in the chair across from Faramir’s, and waited for the boy to do the same. Faramir seated himself once again, not taking his eyes off Elrond.

“Faramir,” Elrond began, “I know that something is deeply troubling you. I do not know if it is simply sadness that your brother has left, or if it is something more. You are exhibiting signs of a deep grief, one which I am not sure can easily be broken out of without assistance from others.” As Elrond expected, his pupil reacted rather defensively.

“I need no help, I am fine!” he began, crossing his arms. “I am truly fine. I simply came here to read my manuscripts. I went out riding earlier today. I feel fine. I would just like to return to my reading and work.” When Faramir saw the stern look on Elrond’s face, he knew that such statements were not going to work. Still, he did not give up his tough face. He wanted the elf to not worry about him, no matter what it took. Elrond pressed forward.

“I know that you want to be strong, Faramir. And you are strong. Feeling sadness… well, Men seem to percieve it as a weakness, a lack of strength and reserve. However, I already know that for such a young individual, you have had to withstand difficult facts about your life and your future that you might not have had to face directly until now.” Faramir looked away from Elrond now, afraid that his eyes might give away how truthful the elf’s statements were. Elrond struggled to make eye contact with him again and said, “You have to face some days directly, with the fact that your father does not seem to appreciate you or your talents, even talents which are strongly developed. I know that you wish to confront him, but I strongly believe that you do not yet have the strength to do so.” Elrond was going to continue, when he heard a sound come from Faramir’s direction. The youth’s face was buried in his hands, unmoving. Elrond stood up and moved behind Faramir’s chair, and placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders – they were shaking with tears.

“Come now, Faramir. I know the situation is difficult, but do not make yourself overtired from it,” Elrond said. “You must keep up your strength, but I believe it is beginning to fail you.” The elf took the boy’s hands in his own, and realized that they would not stop trembling with tension. Elrond became quite concerned at this point. Looking into Faramir’s eyes, which were bloodshot and stained with tears, he realized what must be done.

“You must rest. I cannot let you out of my sight until you are feeling much better. I am going to take you back in as one of my patients, and you must adhere to my healing methods until you are mended. Do you understand?”

“I don’t need it!” Faramir began protesting in earnest, though he knew it was in vain. Once Lord Elrond decided someone needed his healing care, he was always right and he always got his way. It wasn’t that Elrond’s healing was harmful or unpleasant; in fact, it was much like being on holiday. But Faramir, being his age, simply wanted to be left alone. The elf gave a stare so strong that he youth stopped his protests immediately.

“I do not mind what you say right now; I have made myself clear. You need much rest, you have grown weary again. You are not strong right now, and you deserve having someone to care for you. I hope you will take all of this with grace, because it will help you. You know this by now.”

“I do.” Faramir had calmed down by this point, but looked overtired. “What are you going to have me do?”

“You will rest,” Elrond said. “It is quite simple. You are not to go out and improve your training and skills with the bow or the sword until I say it is right to do so. It is too cold outside for Men to dwell, especially those who are ill and require time to rest. The winter season is a bit too harsh for Men, even in Rivendell. I will prepare some medications and tonics for you, which will take hold of your health soon. Until then, you must be patient with me, despite how strong you may feel. Do you understand?”

“I understand,” Faramir replied after a moment, but his thoughts were already far away. Elrond placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, grabbing the young man’s attention again. “Are you sure there is nothing else you wish to talk about? Is there anything else I do not know that is grieving you?” Elrond asked. When the boy shook his head, Elrond knew that it was not the full truth, but let the matter rest. All things would be revealed in time.

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