Faramir Fiction Archive

If you can't see me as who I am, then why bother? (NC-17)

Written by Laivindur

22 April 2012 | 74699 words | Work in Progress

Chapter 9

A landscape with forest and meadows mingled with Ithilien fighters and both Ithilien and Gondorian rangers. Screams, clashes and metal crashing sounded that late evening as one of the Ithilien camps had been ambushed by the haradrim. Faramir fought a huge man, and as he’d been pierced slightly by an arrow in his arm, and a cut along his waist released frightful amounts of blood, he had troubles, but still he fought bravely against this giant with a huge stick.

It was an odd weapon, but soon it would show its quality. After Faramir had blocked a strike with his sword, he jerked to make a counter attack, but shortly after he noticed in surprise that the sword was jabbed to the wood and the haradrim dashed the confused Captain to the ground.

Soldiers were fighting their own battles around him and did not know their captain was gazing upon his own death. Faramir groaned as the cut given to him earlier made his muscles decline any attempt to rise. The big haradrim raised his baulk to give Faramir the penalty, and the late sunset shone behind the huge dark man as he was aiming his strike. Faramir moaned as the cut refused him to move, and the blood leaked out rapidly by his struggles. The light sky got colored by red dots as the harad’s blood exploded by a sword cutting his head halfway off.
The harad fell sideways to Faramir’s good fortune, and two men started abruptly to carry Faramir away from the battle and into a small forest which hid them somewhat from the battle.

“My lord, you’re wounded.” A man with dark brown short hair widened his eyes gazing upon the Captain ranger, the son of the steward, in such manners. The man was a soldier from Ithilien, but had been getting to know Faramir after he’d traveled with him from Osgiliath. He’d learned to know of Faramir’s kindness and respect.

“It’s merely a scratch, Bonrad, tend to the others.” Not knowing if he should follow orders or do what he meant would be right as a healer, an apprentice, he touched Faramir clumsy all over to be sent away by a more experienced healer.

Bonrad looked back at his new friend and went out to get revenge.
“Lord Faramir, are you alright?” Beregond asked, still having the heat of the fight in his voice.
“It’s nothing, my friend. My sword is jammed to a chump not far from here. Bring it if you may.”
“I’m sorry sire, but you are not able to battle anymore at this rate.”

Two soldiers assisted Beregond in helping Faramir walk to a safer place to be taken further by horse. After he got pulled on a bed between two horses, he protested
“I can…” but when a sudden pain shot through him he kept quiet. It was a hurtful and tormenting ride towards the other camp. He and three others, two being guards, and the other a second wounded between two other horses, got spotted by two arriving healers.

A group of soldiers rode swiftly past them towards the battle, and the healers gazed worriedly at the Captain and hoped this ambush was to be won, or else it would be fatal to them all.
They started to lift Faramir off as the horses were ordered to lie down, and noticed their captain were quite pale and had fainted. The sheets were soaked in blood, though the cut had been bandaged. More healers attended to the other man.

Beregond shouted along with the men of victory, and they all raised their weapons for more cheering. Beregond looked around to see who he could tend to, and they all ran around tending for the ones who were still alive.

Thinking of Faramir, Beregond galloped his horse towards the healing camp as he saw things were well tended to at the battlefield.
When he reached the healers camp he noticed not as many as expected had been injured, but worried still for his captain.

A healer was about to pass him, but she stopped as Beregond’s arm grabbed her by the shoulder “Where is lord Faramir?” She had a sad expression when she pointed to a couple of trees bending over a small tent. The worried man hurried to it, and startled the healer who was bending over Faramir’s wounds
“Oh! Is the fight over?”

Beregond answered quickly “Yes, we won, they’re gone. How is he?” The healer had just undressed the Captain and was pouring something on Faramir’s cut and prepared equipment to stitch it. Beregond looked at Faramir’s young and pale body, and felt bad about his faith, but happy he’d survived the ambush. Regardless, Faramir was breathing heavily trying to handle the pain clearly coming from the cut and the arrow wound.

“Will you assist him, Beregond? I started to do this when he had passed out, but he seems to wake once in a while, and I think this will stress him a bit.”
Not sure of how his young captain would handle this, he started to hold his hand. When Faramir jerked at the first touch of the healer, Beregond leaned over to hold him down and let his face be the first to look upon at his awakening. Beregond could not see what the healer did, but knew the stitching started as Faramir started to breathe faster, and groan once in a while. Another healer leaned over Faramir’s legs to prevent them from kicking the healer working on him.

The worried friend kept himself as calm as he could, not wanting Faramir to meet a horrid face when first opening his eyes. When the Captain did open his wet grey eyes and moaned, he grasped Beregond’s arm with all his might and tried to speak.
Beregond shushed at him and stroke his cheek “Be still captain, this isn’t as bad as it seems. You’ll be alright.”

Smiling of relief seeing Faramir up and awake, he also thought of the irony that he caressed and comforted the boy as his own son, being the fact that he was his captain.
“What is happening?” Faramir made to ask before cut off by his own small scream.
Beregond shushed him again and caressed him even more.
“Relax, Faramir. The healer is stitching that cut of yours. It’ll be over in no time.”
The healer leaned sideways to tell Faramir in no time was actually right now. He’d stitched the cut perfectly and asked Beregond to help him fasten the bandage. The older man helped the newly appointed captain to sit up. Even though great pain struck Faramir, he’d gathered somewhat of consciousness that made him clench his teeth to avoid more sounds of pain.

He wanted to appear strong, being the captain after all. With the healer in front of him reaching the bandages to Beregond behind him, they managed to get a good start at the twining. Beregond’s face darkened at the sight of Faramir’s scars on his back. The lad had not been long enough in battle to attain such damage, and he’d not heard of him being captured by the enemy.
“There. Now, would you gently lay down our good patient?”
Beregond did so, and Faramir sighed in relief feeling the bandages’ healing oil. “Now we’ll be fine. You may leave.” the healer smiled at Beregond. Beregond did not actually want to leave Faramir, but thought it best that way.

The huge hallway, lit up by great windows at day, and numbers of candlesticks holding five white candles each at night, seemed smaller to Boromir where he stood in the entrance. An exact memory hit him; He remembered himself and his little brother running through it playing spy and guard. He smiled thinking of Faramir’s screams when he’d scare him popping around the corner. Even though Faramir had been playing the guard one time, he ended up being chased.

Boromir’s glad face darkened remembering his father yell at Faramir at one time he’d crashed into a vase belonging to their mother. Faramir at age of seven could clearly understand what he’d done without their father’s scolding. They had been playing in one of the rooms where no fun was aloud, and clearly, Boromir as the eldest should have known better, but it was Faramir who’d received it all.

Their father had seen nothing else than the broken vase and the small regretful sad child. Boromir closed his eyes and could only imagine what faith his little brother had received after he got dragged out of the room by their father.
The citadel could never be the same as he thought more and more of how Faramir had been treated. He’d thought it as a matter of course the way Denethor lectured the difficult kid who’d never listen to the grownups, and would blurt out his own opinions in the worst matter of time.

A slap now and then, but he’d never seen anything really brutal. As Boromir walked out on the balcony his eyes caught the fencing school, the plane field where he and his friends often spent their time. Faramir did cause himself trouble among his friends, but only when they’d do things that would provoke him, a thing they enjoyed doing, like talking bad about someone. Even though they were talking shit about orcs he gave them a warning by the look. If they continued, as they did whenever Boromir wouldn’t be around to stop them, Faramir would go right on attacking, leaving the elder brother to handle his temperamental little one who learned the power of words later and didn’t need his brother to aid him from them anymore.

As Boromir leant against the rail he thought of every time he had comforted Faramir after their father had taken him in after one of his misdeeds. It was not those moments his mind chewed on though, it was the times where Faramir had run off for several hours, or the times where he’d refused his elder brother to tend to him.

Boromir dropped his head in his hands and sighed for his stupidity ‘Why didn’t I see it?” He lifted his head to gaze at the upcoming stars in the horizon. His eyes glistened as they perceived everything anew. ‘I was too selfish to see my brother’s struggles. When I saw him I saw my cute little brother who’d always turn happy again and run around smiling. I knew he and father didn’t go along, but not that he’d…’ As usual, Boromir came up with the annoyingly solution where there was nothing he could do for his brother other than being there for him and comforting him and to continue softening their father to him.

“My lord, please do not restrain yourself, you must rest” the healer pushed Faramir back down and wiped his sweat away from his face and forehead “Your fever is still high. You must stay like this until the inflammation goes away.”

Faramir sighed and stared blunt in the tent for the third night in a row when the healer placed a cold cloth against his forehead. A rough laughter was heard before the owner entered the tent with a grey bearded smile around a jolly face.

“Lord Faramir, I know it is difficult for you. Take it as a test of patience.”
The healer blurted out “Hah, oddly this comes from you Lahadrar, who the rangers have almost given away to the haradrim because of your whining and worrying of the captain’s health.”

Faramir smiled the best he could to Lahadrar when he made a grimace behind the healers back, but when the healer turned to the old joking man he straightened up and flared his gaze around the tent like nothing and excused himself by “I think I should get our captain something to eat.”
The healer shook his head “Aye, you go do that.” and when Lahadrar left, the healer continued “so our captain can get some rest.” The healer blinked to Faramir who wanted to laugh, but the cut made it painful.

The only light shining in the camp was the light from the moon and the stars. Some torches lit up a few steps from the tents, and guards and men were sitting or walking in conversation or sleep. Beregond was on his way to Faramir’s tent when he overheard a conversation among two soldiers; “Our captain is healing quite fast and will be up and running in no time if I know him correct.”

The other one agreed happily, but changed deeper in voice as he went on “Even though, I hear that that wound of his was quite nasty. I think the healers have decided that he is to be sent back to Osgiliath. I remember one time I got badly wounded; my wife cuddled me and did everything I pleaded for until I was walking again, and longer. That was jolly times.”
“Isn’t it that jolly anymore?” the other guard laughed. They laughed together, and Beregond was just about to leave when he overheard something more; “Who do you think awaits the captain back home?”

“Don’t go there again, Vamirar. Who keeps the captain’s sheets warm is none of our business.” Beregond thought of his this matter as he closed in on his young friend’s tent.

He’d never seen Faramir close to a woman, or anybody for that matter. Sure it was normal for a 21 year old man such as himself to at least have one lover. Beregond smiled thinking that his Captain did whatever was expected of him and dedicated himself to his chores and duties whenever he had the chance.
He remembered seeing many lassies that’d approached Faramir on rare occasions where he had joined the men on a night out. He’d treated the women gently and warm, but never gone anywhere with them.
He could barely recall one time where his young captain could be seen making out with a lovely lucky lass, but he’d kissed her good bye and gone away leaving her heartbroken. Beregond smiled at his captain’s mystery.
He opened the tent carefully and sat by his captain who slept soundly and peaceful. The older man sat there for a while just listening to the nightly sounds and enjoying some time away from the other rangers and soldiers. He was thinking of history and philosophy that he and Faramir had been discussing earlier. They had become good friends at times where Beregond had been guarding the city and had been stumbling upon the youth whenever he had escaped from whatever the youth escaped from, and sometimes he just wanted peace to read a book.

Flashback ~

It was a sunny day in Minas Tirith, and Beregond stood guard at the watch tower. He held on to a spear with the gondorian flag swaying proudly in the cool wind. The view was amazing, and he thought of his son and wife. His thoughts wondered off to Rohan and of the plans the steward had for his youngest to be sent off there. Beregond wondered of the boy’s age ‘How old is he now?’ He gazed to the blue sky. But then a small pebble fell beside him, and rolled forward. He frowned at it for a while before he turned abruptly at the roof. He stepped back and scouted for the causing at the ceiling above him.

A wary and surprised Faramir at the age of 16 met the guard’s gaze. He was climbing the roof, and that small stupid pebble had betrayed him. Beregond understood this was young Faramir at once. He had not seen him since he was a small child, and even though Faramir had a small amount of stubbles on his well shaped jaw, he saw it was him by the mellow and worried eyes. Then Beregond got gladly surprised by the youth’s viral voice and smiled at the sudden command

“Who are you to stare at me? Just turn around and continue your duty.”
The guard saw Faramir’s insecurity and fear behind the strict and determined mask.
“Excuse me sire, but what are you doing up there? It is not safe.” Faramir’s lips forged into a line. Beregond could see his little lord think hard and fast ‘This soldier wasn’t as blinded by fear as the others’
He smiled once more of the boy’s struggle to come up with something. Then Faramir’s lips loosened and he moved to a better position while speaking like a lord full of authority

“What is not safe for me is up to me to configure.”
The conversation could have been quite interesting if not for the sudden interruption.
A swift guard jogged around the corner, and at the sight of Beregond, he called and jogged towards him. Noticing Faramir’s worried grimace and quickly retreat to the wall above the roof; he straightened his back and acted like nothing was going on.
“Have you seen the youngest lord?” the guard asked desperate to find him. Beregond acted confused at the panting guard

“The youngest lord? I remember seeing him as a child once; so cute and adorable.” Faramir grimaced and rolled his eyes hearing it all from the roof.

“I may have seen a boy run quite in a hurry past here. May that have been the youngest lord?” Beregond acted regretful and worried when he continued “Oh my, I would have bowed if I knew it was him!”
Faramir once again grimaced by the ass kissing. The guard was not interested in hearing this blabbering guard’s whining, and thanked him as he ran off. Beregond smirked as the guard disappeared.

Stepping back again and gazing up to Faramir, he saw he had been moving further away, balancing to the wall he’d been sitting against. Beregond stepped a couple of steps closer and called up to him. “Excuse me sire. You know I have to report this sooner or later.” Faramir froze immediately.
Beregond smiled as he imagined Faramir’s look, and awaited a clever reply. Faramir turned to look upon his rival “Then why did you back me up just now?”
“I just couldn’t stand that guard’s attempt to get you down. He’d probably yell and shout and cause a lot of ruckus, and as in fact being your guard I have a duty to protect you. I thought it better if I could help you get down safely. Will you accept my offer?”

“Your effort to help me is pointless the moment you report me being here, so I’ll be better off without.”
Beregond frowned and walked along side with Faramir as he kept on crawling and dodging windows in between.

The guard did not exactly know what to say. After a brief moment he spoke; “What exactly are you running from, my liege?” Faramir stopped, surprised by the guard still following him. He abruptly sat down by the wall as a few soldiers were patrolling past Beregond. They greeted everything alright and moved on with the patrol.

Beregond waited to look up again until they were out of sight. It looked like Faramir had given up, and sat down quite grumpy and lost. The rooftops were ending, and he would have to jump down to carry on, having him to face the annoying guard.
Faramir sighed and gazed at the view thinking of his mother and… “Do you miss your brother, Faramir?”
Beregond dared to ask, hoping the rumors of the kind child were true.

The seemingly kind youth looked blunt at Beregond, still not happy about him catching him. They had a staring competition, where Faramir did not hide his malcontent and tried to seem like a strong and cold lord. The guard tried to make his lord cheerier by having a friendly gaze to the hostile youth’s, certain this was not how he was like. Faramir frowned at the unfamiliar friendly guard and sighed as he lost the staring competition and gazed to the sky. Missing both mother and brother he answered with a low and sad voice “yes.”

“How long has he been gone?” The same low and sad voice appeared “Two weeks.” Beregond thought their bond must have been strong missing his brother after such a short period. Beregond worried for the sad boy being in such trouble that he’d been forced to hide on the roof.
“Can you tell me why you are hiding up there?”

Faramir tried to hold back his anger but it showed in his voice “No! You said you would report this anyway, and you’d probably blurt everything in fright for my father. So I think not!”

“You don’t want your father to know why you’re skipping class?”

Faramir looked angry at the head sticking up from the roof down below, and the guard continued.
“He would have known sooner or later. I’m sure you know that.” Faramir turned blunt once more

“I guess the new fencing teacher scares the wits out of me.” Faramir thought himself stupid to have run away in the first place, and the soldier was right.

Finally getting to the meaning of it all Beregond spoke “So it is your fencing teacher you run from.” Faramir leant forward crossing his legs in lotus.
“If I had him running after me I would have been caught shortly after because my legs would be petrified by the outmost fear. Having one of the guards after me is just annoying.”

Beregond thought back at the distressed man earlier, and looked at the ground trying to hide his smile. Faramir raised his head with pride and couldn’t help it but smile as well. Beregond looked back up soon enough to see the tiny smile on the youth before acting serious once more.
“Is your teacher that bad?”

Faramir’s strive to seem lordly and grown up vanished by the youthful and childish grimace and act by the answer.
“You damn well can be sure he is. I could handle Alfallar those five years, but coping with this guy is like coping with an orc half the IQ.”

Beregond laughed so loud by the explanation of his teacher, that Faramir sat back afraid someone might see him by the attention Beregond could cause. Beregond leant forward and wiped a few tears of his eyes “Eeh, oh, Faramir, that made my day.” He sniffled looking back up at a smiling and headshaking Faramir.

Beregond admired the boy. He was a lord, but so easy and nice to talk with “So you have a new fencing teacher. You must be sixteen then?” Faramir smiled askew as a ‘not too happy about’ it answer.
When Beregond studied the well shaped youth who perhaps was to become his Captain one day, he felt pride as he also saw his good heart.

But when Faramir got back to his original reason for being there, he lost contact with the man and his eyes flickered nervously for a way out. The man could just the same have watched a rare beautiful bird lift its wings to fly away, and to keep him at place, he hurried with another question;

“What’s so bad about this new teacher? Who is he anyway?” Faramir looked at Beregond like an annoying problem to solve before being able to fly away, but then his tense eyes softened while leaning back to the wall and dropping his wings. He sighed inward and squinted at the strong evening sun.

As he had the youngest lord captured (he’d heard rumors he was hard to catch), he wanted to use this opportunity to get to know him. Noticing Beregond’s expecting look he sighed
“Is there much more to say than what I just explained to you?”
Beregond laughed once more as the IQ half the size of an orc reached his mind
“Aye, aye, I get it.” Sensing Faramir did not wish to speak of it he stopped asking about that foul teacher. Suddenly Faramir asked; “What’s your name?”
Surprised, he answered “Beregond, my lord.”
Faramir crawled to the edge of the roof and spoke with his viral and warm voice;
“I understand, Beregond, that you have to rapport this. You are a good guard, loyal to Gondor, but please don’t stop me while I climb down from here.”
Tilting his head to the side, Beregond smiled and just watched the worried boy.
“Where are you off to then?”
Faramir thought his father had gotten the news of his escape, and wanted him to calm his anger before confronting him.

“I thought I’d sneak around for a while. It was my second class with Mindor today and I intend to speak to my father about it after he is finished with his meetings today.”
Going on a bit heavier he spoke “That’s why I ran. Because Mindor, my teacher, can’t cope with me and I can’t cope with him.”

Beregond noticed a wave of pain render through the young man’s body. “Alright Faramir, I will not stop you. Can I at least help you down from there?”

Faramir was rather skeptical, but chose to trust this friendly guard and lowered his foot to Beregond’s palm. The guard placed the spear to the wall before grabbing Faramir’s waist to keep him from falling. The boy let go of the roof and landed lightly on the ground with Beregond’s help. He thanked him with a smile and tidied his clothing. Just then, four soldiers rounded the corner and stared at them both.

Faramir jumped but stood still keeping an eye on the guards, not taking any rushed conclusions; he did not need to run if they were not after him.
One of the Soldiers stepped forward “Faramir, you must accompany us back to the citadel. Your father the steward wishes to speak to you.”
Faramir’s body chilled thinking his father had sent more guards to fetch him. And he had been disturbed in the meetings because of him. Fearing what his father might think of this matter, since he actually had left his meetings to speak to him, Faramir was not eager to accompany the men. He cursed himself for getting down from the roof at this exact stupid point and swallowed a lump.

“Faramir, if you please.” The soldier opened a way for him as a hint to join them. Beregond noticed Faramir’s breath fastened and the sad face made his heart melt. Just as he was about to encourage the boy, he ran off the other direction quickly as a shy lynx. The guards ran after him like a pack of wolves afraid not to come home to their leader with the prey. Beregond watched the young slender boy disappear behind a corner abrupt by the noisy soldiers.

End of flashback ~

He returned from his thoughts to the dark tent as Faramir moved and started to breathe uneasy, and sweat was pouring from him. Beregond worried and lifted his blanket to check on the wounds. There was no way there could be problems after this many days of recovery, though it didn’t look good. He did see no worries but Faramir’s chest which lifted and lowered by the heavy breaths.

“My lord.” he was about to call for the healer, but listened as Faramir mumbled. Beregond thought it nothing more than a nightmare, and sighed in relief. When Faramir was increasing the mumbling to words, he listened to what his friend could be dreaming about
“…this nothing to do with Boromir. Leave him…” Beregond frowned and listened for more
“Father, please. This has nothing… it is all, my fault…” Faramir jerked his head to the side and panted heavily. He winced and Beregond was about to wake his captain, but he got ahead of him and woke abrupt weeping in his words “It’s all, my fault” Beregond embraced him as he tried to rise.
He pushed him down again and kept on embracing the weeping lad “It’s all, my fault” Beregond shushed him, “What’s your fault Faramir? What are you talking about?” Faramir kept on weeping in the older man’s hug who kept his calm despite his hundred questions in mind. ‘What did Faramir mean as his fault? He was talking to his father. He had mentioned Boromir. What about him?’ Faramir calmed down and his breath calmed and he didn’t seem any more flustered.

A sudden whisper reached the lieutenant’s ear “I love you.” Beregond sat up abruptly after widening his eyes. He looked at his fast asleep captain as a last tear rolled down his cheek. Beregond wiped it away ‘Well, that answered one question, there is someone he loves’. The older man gave his captain a warm and understanding smile as he watched him.
The worried frown was still present on his troubled head, and his lips wide letting air flow slowly in and out.
“You want to say something more, Captain?” Faramir shut his lips as if to answer, and it made Beregond laugh a silent laughter
“It’s alright captain. Sleep well now.” He touched his undamaged shoulder and made the worried frown disappear.

Flashback ~
“Wait up! Boromir!” Faramir at an age of ten called out desperately while running after his brother through the city Osgiliath. The busy streets mingled with people more cultivated than Minas Tirith, but these boys were heading to fencing class, and they were late. Faramir stumbled and bumped into the tight crowd as he tried not to lose his leading brother of sight. Three of Boromir’s friends were running beside him, and didn’t think of their friends’ little brother. Boromir on the other hand, looked back and gazed after the reddish blonde kid among the crowd who struggled greatly to keep up being so small as he was. The other three called after their friend and said they would not wait for the fencing teacher’s punishment.

Boromir didn’t want it either, but didn’t want to leave Faramir behind in the huge crowd or leave him to the punishment alone if he ever made it to the class alone. The teacher wasn’t known for his mercy, and didn’t considerate his students age. He bit his lip when the three run off and he could not yet see Faramir. His legs twitched to run, but his heart stayed.
“Faramir, where are you?” he mumbled to himself clenching his teeth. Filled with frustration he started to walk into the crowd once more.
As small as Faramir was at the age of ten, he had been closed in among many women blabbering about fabric, dresses and clothing. Two of them had stopped Faramir, calling him the cutest thing and wasn’t letting him pass. Faramir being so polite among ladies had not made his point that he had to go “I’m sorry miss, but I have to…” “Oooh, look at that nice fabric this lovely boy is wearing. Where do you come from little one?” Faramir tried once more “It will be best if I didn’t…”
“Now look at this lovely hair, so lovely”. Boromir rolled his eyes and squeezed himself through the thick dresses and pulled Faramir out. The ladies chuckled and giggled at the sight of the cute boy’s grumpy elder brother.

Running with his little brother’s hand in his, he shouted “What are you doing, Faramir? Have you no idea what kind of teacher we are up against? If we are late it’s all your fault.”
“I’m sorry. I just couldn’t get out of that sea of dresses.”
Boromir cursed the whole world if they’d be late. They had missed out of time fooling around in the exciting and flourishing city, so many things to see, and so many different kinds of people. They had been staring at a couple of elves, and had to hold Faramir back not to go talk to them. He’d been reading Sindarin for two years in secret, and wanted to see if they could understand him.

The boys had been afraid of the elves, and refused the kid to go near them. A Gondorian boy trying to converse with the elves was an outrage among the men. It had been such a ruckus holding Faramir back, luckily they had been a hundred meters away so the elves were luckily not engaged with it, but they had gracefully turned and smiled at the fighting lad. Gaining eye contact with one of them made Faramir freeze and widened his eyes in excitement.

Luckily it made the people lose attention towards the boys, and as one of the elves stared at Faramir in a friendly manner, he had stopped fighting at once. After a while staring in the eyes of the gracious elf, he smiled and ran along with the others as they’d hurried on to class.
The elf had talked to him. The elf was amused that the boy knew some sindarin and had made a small conversation with him by not having a single word escape his mouth.
Faramir’s heart pumped in joviality in Boromir’s captivating arms as he’d been talking to the elf just by thinking the words. The elf had told him there was nothing wrong in him wanting to learn their language, but he had to understand people would react if a small child suddenly talked to strange elves. He encouraged Faramir, and wished him luck.

Boromir ran with his little brother half running half dragged through the streets which were less crowded now. Faramir bumped into Boromir as he stopped at a corner where he saw the boys standing ready in line with a sword each, and with Alfallar, the teacher, calling out orders. Boromir was about to shove Faramir back behind the corner they’d come running from, but was too late as the teacher turned and gazed upon the panting boys.

He frowned malcontented at the youngest, and then at the eldest “I can see Faramir’s late coming, but yours Boromir? What’s happening to you? You’re always the one showing up long ahead of time. Is your brother holding you back?”
Boromir bowed
“Forgive me and my brother; the streets are filled with a lot of people which makes it hard to get through. Please excuse us for our late arrival.”
When the teacher lifted one eyebrow and looked back at Faramir who jumped by the suspicious look, Boromir glared at the other boys if they had betrayed them, and of course the one fool who thought Faramir as an annoyance looked far too innocent than the rest.

Faramir tried to copy his brother, but the gracious and respectful bow, which Boromir had made, was done too quickly by Faramir and the fright in his voice was nowhere to be hidden.

“I’m sorry too, it’s just as my brother says. It was rather difficult to get here in time.” Boromir was afraid he’d say something to ruin his attempt to avoid a beating, and worried for how this would turn out.

The fencing teacher had a thicker beating stick, which was one of the reasons Faramir liked these classes the less. His father had made the teacher be strict on Faramir to rough him up. This was Faramir’s fourth class with Alfallar and had made it through without a beating, which Boromir had helped him with.
Faramir had bowed just when Boromir had straightened up, and was now staying in the position not sure what to do. Faramir was afraid Alfallar would take a short bow as disrespecting, but sensing the teacher close in he straightened up and got uncomfortable as he came too close. Boromir stood his ground proud and strong, but Faramir measured the teacher uncertainly.
“Turn around” Alfallar ordered as he revealed a stick from behind his back.

Boromir did as told, cursing that idiot of a boy who called himself his friend. Faramir on the other hand dropped his jaw by the size of the batten, and stood still flaring his gaze between the teacher’s strict face and the thick branch kept firm in his hand. Boromir tried to give Faramir hint to turn around, but Faramir stared at the huge man in front of him with horrid grey eyes.
As the man bent down to stare the kid deeper in the eyes, he turned and swallowed. He looked at Boromir for answer or comfort, but his brother stared forward cursing the teacher if he’d make Faramir cry. Faramir copied his brother once again; he stared forward without looking at anything.

Boromir received a spank one after the other with nothing more than clenched lips in a painful grimace and a bit of proud beaten away. Faramir’s fright for the batten grew by the sounds and numbers of strikes, but Boromir seemed to take it easy, so he decided he would too instead of running away as his feet ached for.

Boromir received five strikes before Alfallar walked over to the trembling Faramir. He worried if this would be harder or like the same he’d received from his father. When the first hit was done it was just like the time he’d broken the vase of his mother, only then he didn’t have the protective fabric from the angry hand, and was glad he was to keep the pants up this time. He clenched his teeth to hinder himself from releasing the screams as the second strike landed, and he took a step forward not to lose balance. Feeling his buttocks burn he thought ‘Only three more’.

The third he managed barely without a sound, but by the fourth he whined.

‘One more I can handle’ he thought while also thinking how the man could beat someone this hard just for being late. As the fifth landed, he felt the pain not so bad being the last one. He sighed out the restrained screams after feeling his behind burn at the final strike.

He screamed in pain and surprise while taking an unsteady step forward as the sixth strike landed on his sore behind. As Faramir fought his tears back, Boromir turned and looked upon Alfallar with a warning in his eyes. The strict man smiled and spoke “That’ll teach you not to be late for my classes again, huh?”

Faramir being the youngest in the class they would always fool around with him, but not long enough to get Boromir at their throat.
Faramir felt his pride and buttocks burn while cursing the teacher.

“Pick a fitting sword and get to your places.” Alfallar yelled. Boromir hurried with the order, feeling sore, but had no problems going on as usual. Faramir on the other hand felt a new burn for every step, though he kept it discreet, and he fought way worse than ever. He made only one victory against Brumadur after anger had filled him by the scolding from Alfallar.

The brown haired boy, who was Faramir’s sparring partner this session, was a bit taller than him, and two years older. He was also far back in genus of the brothers, and was friendly, but wanted to prove himself strong. After the fifth time Faramir’s sword was dashed to the ground after a hurting and difficult battle, and the tenth shout from Alfallar reached Faramir’s ears, Faramir yelled back “How do you expect me to perform the way you wish after that kind of treatment!?”

After Boromir slammed another kid at his size to the ground after disarming him, he turned abrupt and stared at the angry little brother of his. Everything went silent after Faramir’s small voice had screamed that loud. Boromir straightened up, and stepped away from his just as shocked partner lying on the ground. ‘No, Faramir!’ He looked at his brave and panting but insecure little brother who did not look away from the fierce teacher.
Boromir looked at Alfallar who boiled with anger, and was ready to go for Faramir’s rescue.
Faramir noticed everyone stopped their training and looked at them both. He regretted what he’d said by the second, and felt his hands numb. He said his goodbyes to his behind.

Luckily, Boromir needed not to step between them. “Take a look at this boy lads” the teacher made to say calmer than expected “this is a boy who’ll never learn, and will always be the one you’ll see under the whip of his teacher.” The teacher was right. Faramir was the one retrieving more whips and beatings than the others. Not because he was bad, just because he cared for the other’s and did not obey orders of the teachers.
Five years later the same event occurred.
Faramir had been holding back to a smaller kid, and the teacher beat Faramir for being weak and folly. A reason Faramir meant unfair, and after the seventh hit he’d pushed the teacher away and yelled his opinion at him “It’s not right of me to receive this just because I don’t slam the kid to the ground. He is five years younger than me! There’s a limit for a child’s confidence!”

The teacher had shown the other students what happened to a student after talking back to his master once more, and someone meant to have seen a single tear from their brave companion.
Boromir was not at that practice. He’d turned twenty and had other fencing practices.
The smaller kids, who’d eventually be in Faramir’s troop as he grew older, thanked him for teaching them in a respectful and calmer manner. They could never show enough of their gratitude to him for receiving all those beatings on their account.
One of them, only one year younger than Faramir, was now sitting beside his Captain in Osgiliath at an inn.

They were preparing to leave for Minas Tirith after seeing everything under control after the ambush near the river in Ithilien. Of course Faramir had been sent back to Osgiliath after his injury, and let Lahadrar lead on further to Erui.
Beregond had joined to be Faramir’s guard in the city but was now on an errand which he’d insisted on doing instead of him.

Their captain’s cut was still under healing, and the poison from the arrow was still weakening him, but he managed. The man who was now joining his captain for a meal, smiled at Faramir’s comic remark of himself when he’d ordered the food.
The food tasted great. Meat, vegetables and salad had been Faramir’s usual meal the last days, in contrast to the soldier across the table who had only eaten dry bread and not any better tasting meat. He relaxed more around Faramir, so manners were no matter.

He dug in both food and ales, but as Faramir looked at him over his pint of water “Hey, just because I am nicer than the other captains of yours, doesn’t mean you can drunk yourself at the mid of the day”, the boy noticed he’d been relaxing a bit too much and sat his ail back at the table feeling the alcohol bubble his head
“Forgive me captain.” Faramir smiled forgivingly and started to eat again.
Seeing his captain’s mood rise in his own thoughts at the meal, he studied him for a while. While picking his teeth, the curious soldier frowned at the smile Faramir tried to hide.
“May I ask what you’re thinking of, dear captain?” Faramir stopped chewing and held his gaze on his plate. He lifted his eyes onto the questioning man innocently. After looking at the curious man for a while he lifted his head in an innocent manner “huh?”

“Don’t you give me that look, captain, I saw you smile at something.” Faramir leaned back “What is there not to smile about?”
The boy was about to say something, but shut it just after. Faramir smiled even wider and kept on eating. The man studied his captain with intensity like if he was going to stare the answer out of him.

With his mouth full of food and still looking at his plate he muffled “Famdur, that aint gonna help you.”
A sudden dutiful voice appeared.
“We’re ready to leave captain, but take your time. We’ll wait for you to…” Faramir took a large bite, and with his mouth once again full with food, he rose to speak. The tense guard stepped back out of respect of his captain, which he had not yet got to know “Then we’ll be off.” Faramir muffled as he placed his cloak on, and headed for the exit. The tense guard looked confused after his captain and at his plate still half full. Famdur grinned and went after his captain.

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